Yesterday’s quick trip to the nearby pond where my canoe lives
the pond basks in silent stillness
darker bands of rock mark the drawing down of water
the cormorant is a surprise, his bill echoing the fading autumn color
tired old oak leaves that just yesterday offered the soft green hope of spring
they have lived a lifetime in the brilliant flash of summer
does the winging osprey sense the coming cold, cling to the still strong sun as I do on this late October morning?
Paris, the City of Light, could take a lifetime to know but we savored our short glimpse of her delights
We arrived back home in Maine around midnight Friday night, and I was up bright and early this morning writing, still on Paris time! Someone asked, why the walker? I should have explained that Lance has a very rare form of muscular dystrophy. He didn’t know, back when he was a paratrooper in the 82nd, or later, serving as a stevedore in an Army transportation company in Saudi Arabia during Desert Storm. Traveling through France heightened our awareness of the research we should do ahead of time and increased our appreciation for ADA accommodations in the U.S.
Cobblestones were everywhere, including the interior passage to our first apartment. Our second hotel had no elevator, and all of the larger rooms were on the second floor. Sometimes museums or churches would have elevators, but they invariably had many long, elegant flights of steps. We developed an efficient system of carrying the walker between us – descending into cathedral crypts or up to the heights of Pointe du Hoc, often without railings.
People were almost universally quick and generous to offer a helping hand, and we did find handicapped parking many times just where we needed it. Checking in at the Rouen hotel, a sharply dressed man stepped up to carry the walker upstairs with its load of two heavy bags piled on top. Only later, at dinner in the hotel’s fine restaurant, did we discover that he was a guest, not staff!
On our way home, we took full advantage of mobility assistance services. These were a lifesaver, not just the wheelchair transport, but having someone to guide us efficiently through security and customs. The walker, and people’s kindnesses, made this dream trip a reality!
We were pleased with Vedettes de Paris, which offers a one-hour cruise (20 euros) with a guide narrating alternately in French and English. He was engaging and imparted lots of historic information with a personal flair. We had booked ahead and scouted a way to access the river from a bike path near our hotel rather than down the several flights of stairs below the Eiffel Tower.
The boat cruised by the Louvre, the Musée d’Orsay, and Notre-Dame Cathedral, and under bridges both elaborate and historic. I was intrigued to learn that an 1856 statue of a Zouave soldier on the Pont de l’Alma is used to measure flood levels. In the epic flood of 1910, water reached the statue’s shoulders. Passing under the stone arch of the Pont de la Concorde, a treasured symbol of the French Revolution, we looked up at its darkened underside. For centuries, the people of France have taken great delight in crossing its span, which was constructed of bricks taken from the demolished Bastille.
There were many stairs (of course) to descend to the crypt level where Emperor Napolean Bonaparte’s impressive sarcophagus rests, encircled by white marble statues of angels. Above a huge bronze door made from cannons captured at Austerlitz are written these words from Napolean’s will: I wish my ashes to rest on the banks of the Seine among the people of France whom I so much loved.
Toasting our trip with beer and champagne downstairs that evening, we knew that although there were surprises, both helpful and difficult, we had done it! Immersed ourselves in memories of a place and time when the free world joined together with great courage and unity of purpose. Walked places that are hallowed ground to the men of the 82nd Airborne. Seen cathedrals and tapestries, flowers and lots of Normandie cows. Eaten to our heart’s content from markets and shops and in sidewalk cafés, just as we’d dreamed.
This harbor town at the mouth of the Seine would inspire anyone to take up a brush and paint
They say Honfleur has a luminous light all its own. Eugène Boudin, one of the first artists to paint outdoors, was born here. Later, Claude Monet came, to meet Boudin and paint. Visit Honfleur, and you will understand. The composition of the harbor setting is exquisite and its architecture very different from the rest of Normandy. The palette of colors, overhanging stories, slate shingles, and individuality of each home make a walk along the Vieux Bassin (Old Port) delightful.
Honfleur is renowned for seafood. I chose lunch from among the fish selections at the pretty outdoor restaurant right on the Vieux Bassin. I couldn’t read all of the French, but knew I wanted something different – not salmon, not tuna. The piece of fish arrived topped with butter and capers and accompanied by potato wedges, pasta, and vegetables. The texture of the white meat was unusual. It looked stringy but tasted delicious, and inside there were bones or cartilage, like thin fingers. Without doubt, I was having a culinary adventure!
We were back at the hotel before four and had the place to ourselves for a while. With our busy pace lately, it was a joy to claim one of the outdoor canopy tables, have a drink, and absorb the ambiance of flowers, bird song, and simply being here in France. Up in our room, with the window swung wide, we shared a bottle of pear cider I’d gotten in Honfleur. We’ve done this several evenings. Gotten salads at a local grocery, along with cheese, butter, and a baguette rustique, a whole grain version of the usual.
On the A-13 toll highway, we suffer an unexpected and unwelcome setback
Well, the good news is that I won’t have to devote two or three hours to writing about yesterday, our day of travel from Bayeux to Rouen. We had planned two stops – a cider and Calvados tour and tasting and a visit to the coastal town of Honfleur. Instead, with our Range Rover spewing diesel fuel, we limped into a pull-off just past a toll plaza on the A-13.
The ensuing saga was both stressful and very long. To sum up, it took five hours to get the response one would expect from the roadside assistance plan we’d purchased from Hertz. Lance told me that evening that I was “the picture of dignity under duress,” and I could say the same for him. We ended up arranging a tow ourselves, grateful that in the end Hertz paid the 190-euro charge and sent a taxi to pick us up to get our new Citroen SUV. “Now you have a French car,” they assured us, “you will not break down!”
Blue skies and sunshine warmed my early morning walk to the boulangerie. Lance had made me promise to bring back a generous selection of pastries, and I think I fulfilled my mission. After breakfast, with the GPS set for Juno Beach, we drove through one picturesque little village after another. Every few minutes, one of us would remark on cows in a green valley or a glimpse of an ancient manor house or flowers climbing a curving stone wall. In places, the roads are so narrow that cars must take turns in passing through. At Juno Beach, where 14,000 Canadians landed on D-Day, a raw wind and cloudy skies set a more somber note.
Walking the hallowed ground where men of the 82nd Airborne held a key bridge with valor and tremendous sacrifice of lives. Two Medals of Honor were awarded for actions taken here.
After returning home last evening, we sat in the courtyard outside our room, with the sun warming us at last. In the quiet, Lance began to talk about the day. He felt a new lightness of heart and spirit, even the sense that a physical weight had been lifted from his shoulders after making the pilgrimage to the La Fière bridge near Sainte-Mère-Église. There, “on one of the most hotly contested pieces of ground in WW2,” the men of the 82nd Airborne proved their valor. That quote, and the title above, come from the famous Iron Mike memorial.
We crossed the bridge as a tractor raked hay in a nearby pasture and a couple of fishermen tossed their lines into the water. By an old stone church, yellow roses bloomed. The sun peeked out once more and all this history seemed so long ago. That church, the Cauquigny Chapel, and its cemetery, however, were the scene of intensive fighting on the far side of the bridge during the same battle.
Traveling back eighty years to honor and understand the depth of sacrifice on which our future rested
On the eve of D-Day, General Eisenhower sent to each of the soldiers, sailors, and airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force a letter of encouragement from which I have taken the title of this post. How difficult it must have been for him to send forth so many young men into such great danger. Eisenhower spent that last evening with the men of the 101st Airborne and stayed until the planes had all disappeared into the dark night.
I collected a delicate, perfect seashell (as I had at Utah Beach) to add to our jar of seaglass back home. From here, we drove to the top of the 90-foot cliffs at Pointe du Hoc, where Army Rangers once achieved the impossible, under fire.
The Normandy sites come alive through many personal stories, though tens of thousands will forever remain untold. Here is just one: “June 6, 1944 was Sergeant Geldon’s third wedding anniversary. He and his fellow Rangers sang songs to celebrate the occasion shortly before landing on Omaha Beach. The 23-year-old steel worker from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, was cut down by enemy fire within a few minutes of coming ashore. When his widow died in 2002 at age 78, she was buried by his side.”
There are ups and downs to being here now, as June 6th fast approaches. An unbelievable number of active and retired military, as well as a stunning array of vintage Jeeps and other Army vehicles have gathered. The spirit of anticipation and brotherhood are at their highest. However, much of the American cemetery was blocked off, including the main memorial visible in the opening photo, with its soaring statue representing American youth. We never learned if there were open sections toward the back where you could walk among the graves. Thus, we were very grateful to find the Garden of the Missing open and paid our respects amid its tranquil beauty.
The story of the day would not be complete without mentioning our brush with the gendarmerie. At what appeared to be a random police checkpoint, Lance briefly considered making a run for it in our Range Rover (thinking of the movie The French Connection) when an officer waved him in. Better judgement prevailed, though, and after a very careful scrutiny of Lance’s driver’s license, we were free to go find lunch. We did not observe a single other vehicle get pulled in. On a lighter note, rambling the countryside has surely been a highlight, knowing that the churches, stone houses with their tile roofs and flower draped walls, even the hedgerows, must be little changed from 1944.
Bonjour from our French studio apartment! After days of off and on rain showers, the weather forecast has improved for the rest of our trip. My plan for this post is to show you our day yesterday in photos. The rainy morning and surprising news that the Olympic flame would pass through Bayeux kept us close to home. The police presence was unbelievable, and many routes would be blocked, so we breakfasted at home and walked to do our laundry and shopping. Our plan was to take a taxi to see the Bayeux tapestry in the afternoon, but in the end we drove after all and found a superb parking spot right by the museum. Anyway, here goes…enjoy!
Having visited the tapestry before in 2018, here is what I wrote then: the 11th-century Bayeux Tapestry is a remarkable work of art and storytelling. Embroidered with richly dyed woolen yarns on a 224-foot-long strip of linen, it is not actually a tapestry at all. Tapestries are woven, not embroidered. Its colors, primarily blues, greens, gold, and russet, still hold true after more than nine centuries.
Going to see this treasure is a must; the visitor experience is so well done. Before entering the darkened room, each person is given an audio guide, like a telephone handset, that narrates the tale and keeps everyone spaced out and moving at the same pace. The subtle lighting enhances the colors, and you can move up close to see the details of the stitching. These are stock photos.
The tapestry’s more than fifty scenes tell of the events leading up to the Norman Conquest, culminating in the famous Battle of Hastings in 1066. There’s a Norman spin to the story. The scene at the start of this post shows the coronation of King Harold after the death of England’s King Edward, despite Harold having previously pledged allegiance to William of Normandy. Much like a comic strip or graphic novel, the scenes are action-packed, depicting treachery, heroism, and humor. The audio guide pointed out details we might have missed, like Hailey’s Comet, seen as a portent of the coming invasion.
Well, wouldn’t you know, the forecast for today has changed to showers and rain. So once again we don our raincoats and set out for another adventure!
The immersive Airborne Museum is located not far from the historic church near the village square.
For months, we have dreamed of visiting Sainte-Mère-Eglise, the village most sacred to the legend of the fighting paratrooper. On June 5, in preparation for the D-Day beach landings, paratroopers from the 82nd and 101st divisions landed here, often far from their intended drop zones. A week ahead of the 80th anniversary celebrations, many current and former Airborne troops are gathering here to honor them. Vintage Jeeps and Army motorcycles are scattered around the square.
If you know this village, it may well be through the touching story of Private John Steele of the 82nd Airborne. As he drifted toward the village square that fateful night, his parachute caught on the church steeple. There he hung for hours, playing dead, while two armed German soldiers watched from the windows. Realizing the American was alive, they took him prisoner, rather than kill him in that sacred place. Steele soon escaped and survived the war.
The Airborne Museum in Sainte-Mère-Eglise follows the Airborne divisions of World War II from their creation through D-Day and beyond. Original war footage, full-scale dioramas, and an amazing collection of original uniforms and equipment, often tied to stories of the soldiers who wore and used them.
The British cemetery in Bayeux is a place of peace and beauty
Crisply edged, pure green grass. The flowers, a riot of color from an English cottage garden. The messages from family that adorn each stone. Together, these touches somehow brought comfort and honor and a rightness as we wandered the largest of the British cemeteries, right here in Bayeux.
Laurie Apgar Chandler 