Normandy

Hey everybody! I’m really sorry I didn’t get a chance to finish my blog on the trip, and once I got home I was completely swamped with school work and the usual summer excitement. But I plan on making up for it now and I’ll try to finish off my journal at least.  If it's okay with you all, I’m just going to write it as if I were actually there now, that way I can hopefully be a little more specific on the actual happenings and it will make a little bit more sense.

Lets see, when I last left off we were in Normandy:

Sunday, June 10^th

Yesterday we drove up and along the coast to “Utah beach” one of the two beaches (the other was code named “Omaha”) that our fellow countrymen were in charge of attacking and securing.  It was one of the five overall beaches along the coast of France that were attacked by a combination of British, American, and Canadian troops, on that fateful day June 6^th 1944. It is one of the few places outside of the U.S. that I actually feel proud to be an American. Where there is a French flag, there is also a set of American, British and Canadian flags flying right beside it, in honor of the Allied powers fighting together as a single entity, against what they knew to be wrong.

Omaha beach

                        After our quick jaunt through town we walked down along Omaha beach, where just 68 years ago our fellow Americans had fought and died to protect their countries freedom and that of humanity worldwide. It seemed fitting that after this, we visited the American Memorial grave yard that stood atop a grassy hill above the white sandy beaches looking out to sea, where a German bunker had once stood.

Omaha beach

            Walking through row upon row of white marble crosses and stars engraved with countless names of fallen heroes, and seeing hundreds and hundreds of bare pillars of marble scattered throughout, where nameless victims of war lay. To even think about the sheer number of lives lost was mind-bogglingly incomprehensible. Gazing ahead, through the drizzling rain to stare at the seemingly endless sea of white and green that rose and fell like waves on the small mounds of earth, it made me wonder, doesn’t there have to be a better way?  We have to realize that we can not continue doing this to each other for ever. 

Normandy

The Cathedral in Chartre

      
 Hmmm strange day, sorry I haven’t written for a while, we haven’t had any internet access recently. We’re in Normandy now, where the famous D-Day landings took place, and have been for a couple days. We left Paris two days ago and took the train to Chartre where we picked up our car and drove the 5 hours to Normandy (only getting slightly lost on the way). We drove through tiny town after tiny town, which all looked like they had been there forever, but had in fact only been built less then 60 years ago after most towns had been leveled by retreating German troops or advancing allied ones. And although some towns have chosen to go with a more modern layout, many have decided to rebuild the houses and castle walls exactly how they were, before it was all blow to bits.

        We rolled into our bed and breakfast around 7 and were greeted by an elderly mostly deaf English lady who ran the establishment. She made us some tea and told us that for some reason, the room we had booked was not available. And I would be sleeping in an old barn recently turned apartment that was across the road. I’ll admit I was a little creaped out the prospect of staying there for four or five nights. It could have easily fit all three of us and was much bigger then my parents room, so my dad decided to come over and try it out for a night and see how it would work. Not thinking it would be a problem, I slept on the couch. The next morning we all woke up, refreshed if a little bleary eyed and went down to breakfast in the kitchen. She asked how my night had been and I said it was really great and that I actually just slept on the couch because my dad was sleeping on the bed. (very  very bad move). She seriously started freaking out, asking us why we were so displeased, and we assured here that it was fine but the more we said that the worse she got until finally at the end of breakfast she moaned “ohhhh! I’m getting the sense that your displeased we everything”. She was a total Mrs. Richards (if any of you have seen the TV show “Faulty Towers” with John Cleese, you’ll know what I’m talking about). When she doesn’t understand you she say’s “Pardon!” in a shrill, high pitched voice and looks at you as if you had just uttered something obscene. She’s more then slightly lost her marbles.                

           We said goodbye to her for the day, (all dreading our return) and cruzed out along the coast to the town of Bayeux. We had intended to go further along the coast to what was said to be one of the best museums in Normandy, but got lost once again and ended up on the wrong side of town. So we decided to take a quick peek at one of the numerous D-Day museums which was nearby and looked

The local fire authoritys 

promising before heading north once again.  We had scarcely been in for half an our before we were all rushed out of the building and into the parking lot, when we asked an attendant what was happening he said “oh it iz joost a wittle fire” (that’s my attempt at a French accent by the way). Sure enough, before long, all the fire engines, police and paramedics came zooming in with their sirens blaring. We stay for a while, watching things unfold and by the time we left, there were at least 6 emergency vehicles crammed into the little parking lot.

         

          We drove north along the beaches and concrete bunkers that 60 years ago would have been filled with soldiers and stopped at the town of Auromonches. Since it was close to the 60th anniversary of the landings, American, Canadian and British flags were strung from rooftop to rooftop in honor of the troops who had died to liberate their country. Auromonches was a significant point in the D-Day landings code named “operation Overlord”, not because troops were deployed there but because it is one of the most amazing feet’s of engineering in the entire world. In less then a week they Allies were able to build a harbor strong enough to withstand the punishing Atlantic Ocean and large enough to supply millions of troops. In the 8 months that it was in service, it deployed 2.5 million men, 500,000 vehicles and 4 million tons of supplies. It was built using 600,000 tons of concrete and over a dozen giant cargo ships that they floated over the channel and then sank according to plan.

Port Winston (in the distance you can see a few remaining blocks of concrete that were part of the original harbor). 

          The rest of the day proved rather uneventful after the excitement of the morning until we finally returned to our B&B. We had decided to possibly find another place the next day since we were obviously causing this lady nothing but trouble and we needed to use the Internet. However, when we pulled into the driveway (rather late because we’d had a hard time finding somewhere to eat), there she was, waiting in the doorway. She had moved all of my stuff out of the apartment/barn and into a new “family room” (which is what we had asked for in the first place). It was a nice place and would have been great if we hadn’t felt like we were being watched every minute.    

Paris!

             This is our 3^rd and final full day in Paris, tomorrow morning we’ll get back on the train to Chartres where we’ll pick up our car. I would love to stay here another couple weeks but it’s just not meant to be, this just means that I’ll have to come back.

The Giant outdoor Screen!

              Wednesday (aka yesterday) we once again boarded the metro and zoomed through the underground to the Jewish Quarter keeping an eye out for quick-fingered pickpockets (its kind of like a “where’s Waldo” on the subway). We walked through to the bank of the Seine where in front of the Hotel de Ville, they had set up a giant screen where you could watch the French Open! Behind the screen hundreds of chairs where set up for spectators and every single one was filled. We watched the end of the Women’s semi’s before my dad dragged us off to the next museum. We walked through the Latin Quarter this time and stopped in a little side street where a man sold home made crêpes out of his window. Then moving on with our snack past the ancient roman bathhouse and around to the museum. The museum unfortunately looked like one of those dark damp places that you go inside and then hours later reemerge covered in dust, brain wiped out and all without having learned a thing. So my mom and I left my dad at the museum and walked back to the Hotel de Ville to watch some more tennis. Later on my dad did admitted (although grudgingly) that it was not the best museum he had been to and that perhaps I was right for once! Once again the matches were great, Nedal whooped Almagro and surprisingly Murray lost to Ferrer.       

The view from our apartment

            Today it was pouring all morning so we decided to stay in and try and get some work done, which we did accomplish to a certain extent! I put up a blog post, did some writing in my journal and made some serious progress in a book about WWII and before I knew it, the rain had stopped. Our last museum on the list was the Clooney, which we had heard, contained some mighty fine tapestries and although this was true it was sorely lacking in everything else. So we walked along the river past the many colored barges rising up and down on the swells and to the Eiffel tower. It was afternoon by now and would have been a beautiful time to survey Paris from atop but we passed the temptation by helped by the sight of long lines of people still winding there way around the base to get up to the top. So we continued through the Champ De Mars and into the Louvre, unable to actually go inside the museum because of a lack of time and since we had spent four days in it on our past visit, we contented ourselves with a wander under the glass pyramid and a piece of pizza from a nearby take away.

Dad making some dinner

            We walked up into the twilight and the famous Tuileries gardens; it was a magical time to be there. The numerous fountains and ponds twinkling in the golden glow of the setting sun. Groups of people gathered and sat around them chatting away about whatever came to mind. The many hedges and trees rustling in the late afternoon breeze and the sun turning everything a warm golden brown like caramel. At the end sat the Obelisk and further on past that, the Champs-Elysees with the triumphal arch rising above the traffic-clogged street.      
Sorry about all the spelling and grammatical error’s in my last post, usually before I upload it I have one of my parents go over it with me and check for errors, but I forgot to last time. I hopefully this version is error free!

Paris!

Reading the bracket outside of "the bullring"

Paris!

What a great place to be, any day any time. I’ve been to Paris just once before when I was 10 and it is exactly how I remember it. The large cobbled streets with Vespa’s whizzing past trying to run you off the road as if you had a large target painted in bright red on your butt, the baguette shops enticing wandering pedestrians from the street with the smell of freshly baked bread and pastries. I love it! We’re staying in Montmartre, which is a small neighborhood that sits atop a hill in the north of the city. Once again, we are in the 7^th floor apartment, but it’s worth the climb. Out of our kitchen window we can see straight across to La Tour Eiffel and below the River Seine, which winds its way here and there throughout the city always making surprise appearances where you least expect it. The apartment is actually somebody’s room that they live in part time, so it has all those funky quirks that all lived in places have, like the chair that falls apart when you sit on it or the light that randomly turns off, but as in any home it gives the place a feeling of comfort and hominess.

(from left to right) Tsonga, Federer and Del Potro

Yesterday we went to the French open! It was amazing I couldn’t believe that we were actually there among some of the best athletes in the world. The Roland Garros was really nice and we got to watch some great matches. Unfortunately though we were only able to gain access to the outer grounds because to get into the two main stadiums costs at least $200 more. Fortunately though yesterday was the first day that “the bull ring” was free to enter so we were able to get in and watched the semi-finals doubles match between the Bryan Brothers(US) and two guys from Argentina. It was crazy how good they were and how hard they hit the ball.  Watching on TV doesn’t even come close to experiencing it live! We got to watch Sharapova (one of the top women tennis players in the world) practice returning serves and getting advice from her coach (imagine having that job!). We  had a lunch of overpriced ham and cheese sandwiches in the square in front of the main screen where we watched  Stosur cream Ciblulkova and helped cheer her on. But I have to say; the highlight of the day was watching Tsonga (French) play Djokovic (#1 in the world).  When they entered the stadium the announcers were drowned out in the wave of cheers and screams that broke out. At the same time they introduced Federer and Del Potro in the other arena much to the same effect. We were able to watch both matches from the square while hearing both stadiums cheer for every point won or lost in the game. On the main court Tsonga was doing great and even had four match points. The whole crowd was cheering him on and yelling, “allez Tsonga, allez Tsonga”. There must have been thousands of people watching the match but it was amazing how quiet it would get during a point and afterword’s the explosion of noise and cheers or the communal sigh.  Unfortunately, Tsonga lost the set in a tiebreaker and from then on everybody knew it was over.  Djokovic won the next set 6-1.  Tsonga looked utterly defeated as he walked out but the crowd cheered him on as if he were the winner.

Watching the match outside of the stadium

After the match was over I rushed around and actually managed to sneak into the stadium. Djokovic was still there talking to the press and I tried to get down but there was only one path and it was clogged with people coming up so I didn’t manage to get his autograph. It made me think; when I’m older I want to be someone like that, where even the mere sight of me can inspire someone.  

It was an exhausting and exhilarating day; we had stayed there the full 8 hours that the park was open. We took the tube back to Abbesses Street and had dinner at the same place we had the night before, we were just too tired to search out anything new.

The biggest stadium at Roland Garros

Happy Fathers day everyone!

Mt. San Michel

Mt. San Michel from the causway 

looking thoughtfull

Ah Brittany, the quintessential French experience, with its small villages and winding rivers and among other impressive sights one of the top Christian sights in the world... The famous island monastery of Mount St. Michel (Mount of the archangel Michel) and it definitely deserves top ranking. Built on a mountain in the middle of mudflats, at high tide it is completely isolated by the rising sea and only a single causeway links it to the mainland, while at low tide mudflats and quicksand surround it.  This place has one of the fastest tidal fluxes in the world and it races in faster than a horse can run! As an aside, just down the road in St. Malo they’ve been generating electricity from the tidal flux since 1961! Peasants have been coming on pilgrimages here since the monastery was built in the 8^th century A.D. and continue to this very day. They got the idea to build this when, in 708 A.D. St. Aubert was visited by dreams of the Archangel Michel telling him to “build here and build high”. Unfortunately though the first few of these orders went unnoticed until finally (according to legend) St. Michel got so fed up with it that he came and pushed in St. Auberts skull with his thumb in a dream. When the Saint awoke he realized the mark was there and set about building the church. (Don’t say you never learned anything from me.)

The view from ontop

Brittany!

It’s quite the place they have here! It is similar to Cataluña in Spain, in the sense that it lives apart from its country.  And of course, because of this they have been oppressed by their country and region for hundreds of years. Just 10 years ago they finally made it legal once again to speak Breton, which is the native language here. Before, it was illegal to not only speak it but also to write it or possess the flag of Brittany!  The ancestors of the people here a mostly Celts instead of the much more common Franks, hence the segregation. Amazingly though, throughout all of the repression they have managed to hold on to their heritage and culture.   Now kids in school here learn Breton as well as French and the flag of Brittany flies all over.

The Rocks!

            One of the main reasons we came here is because of the rocks. There sure are a lot of them all right, and they’re big, really big! Its said by some to be the Stonehenge of France, I’m not sure quite who said this, but I’m sure they had their reasons. One I’m assuming is because (like Stonehenge) nobody knows what the heck they were for! Archeologists estimate their age to be around 7000 years old, and nobody knows how they were able to do it! (You’d think that after all that time they’d have some idea). While driving along you’re likely to pass thousands of these giant boulders all lined up in neat little rows that stretch for kilometers. There are many theories as to why they are here but personally I’m going with the alien theory. Obviously they were runways and docking stations for flying saucers. Other than the rocks there isn’t a whole lot to talk about I’m afraid. We stayed in a small bed and breakfast run by an old German/French couple for four nights and would have loved to hang around for longer, but duty called so we said goodbye to the couple and headed north.

More rocks!

The couple who owned the Bed and Breakfast

Josselin Castle 

We drove through many a quaint little village with roofs of thatch or black slate dotting the countryside for miles around. And of course the customary row upon row of giant upright rocks that really made me wonder, didn’t those guys have anything better to do? It was a beautiful day though, the blue sky and the rolling green hills tempted us as always to walk up into them and stay there for a good long time, letting the problems of the world go by without hearing the smallest detail. It was a shame that we spent most of the day in the car. Thankfully though we did get the chance to stop at the old castle town of Josselin, as I’m sure you have guessed, there was indeed a fairly large castle sitting atop a hill overlooking the meandering canal below. 

We took a stroll around the ramparts and while looking for a coffee shop, stumbled upon a small second hand English bookstore run by an elderly man from Britain. It was a great place and had a wonderful selection of books, we bought a new book about General Bernard Montgomery’s (AKA Monty) liberation of North Africa and Southern Italy during WWII.

We continued along the cost for several hours, watching the rolling hills zoom past one after another until we passed around the ancient fortified city of Dinan. Where we finally found our little place on a small road that wound through fields of golden wheat and forests of evergreens. My dad had found a great deal for a little cottage just outside of Dinan, it’s at least 300 years old and you can definitely tell, it has a great feeling to it and was super cozy. But the best part is that it actually has a laundry machine that works!

Our cottage

Barcelona!

Hey everybody! sorry I haven't written for a while, we've been really busy so I'm a couple weeks behind. I've had to rush these posts a little just to get back up to speed but I hope you enjoy them!

the HUGE indoor Marquette a short walk away from our apartment. 

Wow, I finally finished 1984 bringing my total of books competed up to six on this trip. But what an incredible book! In my opinion all members of the United States government should read it before being allowed to run for office. Next on the reading list is Bill Bryson’s “Neither here nor there” and Dostoyevsky’s “Crime and Punishment”.

Today we signed up for a tour of the city or rather a historical walk focusing on the 1937-1939 civil war in the Iberian Peninsula and into the Fascist rule under General Francisco Franco. My head is buzzing right now with everything he shared with us and if I remember ¼    of it ill be very pleased. Apart from the three of us and our English guide (Nick) there were 4 Scotts, 3 Irish and a couple from some where in the E.U. there were all incredibly nice people but (especially the Scott’s) were nearly impossibly to understand. It was almost a four hour long tour so at the end we all went to “La Libertad” coffee bar for a bight to eat and too study their old civil war propaganda posters. Spain has such a festinating yet bloody history and I don’t think any one person could understand it thoroughly. 

Propaganda posters from the Spanish civil war.

Tomorrow we’ll be leaving Barcelona bright and early around 5 in the morning if all goes according to plan. Its too bad, I wish we could stay another couple of days, this is one of those few places where I could see myself coming to live some day. I guess it’s a good back up plan if Mitt Romney becomes president! (it’s a toss up between here and Canada).

Oh and one last thing I forgot to mention. Yesterday (the day after the visit to Sagrada Familia) we visited the Picasso museum here, it was amazing to see how much his artwork changed throughout his life, I heard someone say that: When he was young he learned to paint as an adult and as an old man he learned to paint like a child. 

The neighborhood Cathedral

Barcelona!

Me outside of the cafe were George Orwell wrote "Homage to Catalonia" during his stay in Barcelona while fighting in the Spanish civil war.

The door to our apartment 

Barcelona! City of music, culinary capitol of Spain and according to Rick Steves, home to quite a few pickpockets. But boy is it nice to be back in a big city! We flew in from Dubrovnik two days ago, and we’ve spent the past two days exploring. It’s amazing how different it is from Croatia the food is great and they have 24/7 markets. It has a perfect mix of old and new, fast and slow, humble and outlandish!

Our first day here was quite a shock; we’d just spent 3 weeks going from tiny town to tinier town. But as soon as we stepped off the plane it was clear that we weren’t in Kansas anymore! We walked through the Ramblas (which is a pedestrian walk way leading from the harbor to plaza Cataluña, running roughly along where the old city walls were) to our 7^th floor attic apartment, carried the bags all the way up a tiny cramped dark staircase and unloaded our stuff then immediately returned to ground level to scout out the surrounding area. 

My dad climbing up to our attic apartment

After several hours of scouting, we decided to have dinner at a large fancier restaurant to celebrate our arrival in Barcelona. Finally we found some good food and it wasn’t outlandishly expensive! You’d think some of the good food would have transferred across the Mediterranean and up the Adriatic! That night we climbed up or 7 flights of stairs and went to sleep happy and content.

Gaudy's Sagrada Familia 

The next day we went and explored. We took the tube to Anthony Goudy’s “Sagrada Familia”.  It is one of (if not the only) cathedral still under construction today (Their goal is to be done by 2026). It was unlike any Cathedral I’d ever seen before. Four beehive like towers which rise 100 ft. over an arch with buttresses that then plummet another 50 ft. to the ground. Underneath these reside cubist versions of Christ on the cross and other biblical scenes. Also Goudy laid the church out in the form of a cross mirroring most medieval churches. The entrance I just described is the west and the main entrance for now. When the Cathedral’s completed the south entrance or “glory facade” (which is decorated with pictures of Christ’s life and his family, after which the church is named, the sacred family) will be the main way in. Once finished it will have 18 towers in total 4 over each entrance and two in the middle. The tallest of which will be 560 ft. high and topped by a giant gold cross will be able to be seen from miles around. And the inside is no less spectacular. Walking out from under the blazing sun in through the solid bronze door and into the cool dark interior, it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. At first it looks and feels as if your in a forest of marble, with the blue, green, orange and red stained glass casting dancing flickers of light on the columns and canopy rising high above. At around 50 ft. up the columns of marble and granite split apart into various different branches that then support the multicolored roof another 50 ft. above. One of Goudy’s famous sayings was “nothing is invented, it’s written in nature.” In fact his whole religious vision was a love for nature. All of his numerous architectural wonders show this, not just “Sagrada Familia”. 

Walking back to the Ramblas from the Cathedral we admired several of Goudy’s other works along the way (it looks to me as if he took some of them strait out of a Dr. Seuss book, or visa versa). We stopped by our new favorite take away pasta place (which we had discovered earlier that day and had a great lunch for just 10 Euro before heading off again

A sign written by an unknown person in a square where the 42 children were killed during the bombing of the "fight for freedom".

Dubrovnik

Dubrovnik, its almost impossible to do the mystique and beauty of this city justice. During the day it’s beautiful, but during the night its incredible. It’s like being in one of those old black and white classics. Especially in the harbor, the warm sea breeze gently rocks the boats too and fro while the lights from the hillside reflect off the calm glassy water, making row upon row of boats appear to be floating on sparkling black volcanic sand instead of mere water. The castle walls lit underneath by spot lights, and of core there was a piano, playing one of those old songs that, normally you would never listen to, but under certain circumstances it is unimaginably and irreplaceably beautiful, I honest to god felt a tear come to my eye. It was one of those moments that you wish you could hold on to forever, because chances are, your never going to see something like it again.     

The city walls lit up at night

the main street inside the castle