Following the Dream

Christian September 11th, 2008

     We took a late morning train from Paris to the city of Rennes, located in Normandy.  The city was quite small, which was a plesant surprise after Paris.  We made our way to our studio apartment on the brand new subway system.  It took only a matter of minutes to get to our stop.  Once we checked in, the first thing we did was use the internet connection that was available in the room.  It was so nice to have internet for free.  After spending some quality time on the computer, we headed out to the town to explore a bit and find out about bus tickets to Mont Saint Michel.  After waiting 20 minutes in line for the counter, we found out that we just pay when we get on the bus.  Not too bad.  We decided to be brave and walk back to the place we were staying without a map.  Luckily there were maps posted throughout the city that we used to guide us back.  The city has a young college town vibe to it.  There are tons of younger kids walking about.  On the way back, we managed to find a grocery store with all kinds of goodies.  We ended up having Mexican Night at our apartment and eating some soft shell tacos.  The next morning we had to be up early for Mont Saint Michel to catch the bus.  When that alarm clock went off at 7:30 neither of us wanted to get up.  We made it to the bus stop and got on the bus.  There was a Japanese tour group on with us that had came from Paris on the TGV for a day trip.  Our bus driver was crazy.  As we started off on the trip he started blaring some music and clapping into the microphone.  Then once we were at a red light, he started flickering the lights on and off in sync with the music.  It was too funny.  The ride to Mt. St. Michel was not bad at all, only lasting about an hour and a half.  The first views you get of it from the bus are pretty cool.  As you round the last corner, Mt. St. Michel appears looming in the distance.  The gothic abbey rises up high on the small island, connected to the mainland by a small causeway.  When we got closer, our driver announced it over the loudspeaker and put some french music on turning it up so that all could hear.  He then started swaying the bus back and forth in tune with the music.  It was a good way to end the bus ride.

We entered the walls of the island and walked through the old town, which is now filled with tourist shops and restaurants.  It felt very midevil.  Once we hiked up the long, narrow, winding street we were greeted with views of the surrounding water and land.  When it is high tide, the island is cut off from the mainland, however when it is low tide the water recedes and it is surronded by white sandy seabed.  We took a self tour of the abbey, which was built in the 8th century as a monastary.  It was pretty interesting on the inside.  It is massive, much larger than it looks.  When we were in one of the last rooms, there were these two mean old ladies who kept making faces at us and “shooing” us away and yelling at us while we were looking at this huge fireplace used by the monks.  We had no idea what they were making a fuss about, until we realized we were in their photo 20 feet back.  “I’m sorry, I had forgotten you had rented out the abbey for the day.  Let me move so you can have a photo,”  ran through my head, but would have been a lost cause since they did not speak english.  So seeing how they were being so polite, I snapped off a few photos of them next to the person who was taking their photo.  They looked a little freaked out.  Now at least I will remember them, and if I ever see them again I will know who to throw a nice cold slushee at.  After our visit to the abbey, we took in some more views before starting the climb down.  On the way down, it started to drizzle.  By the time we reached the bottom, it was an all out downpour.  We took cover under one of the overhangs while we waited for our bus back to Rennes.  Unfortunately the driver of this bus was not as nice.  Cold and tired we made our way back to Rennes for a couple of nice hot showers.

Unfortunately, there was no hot water.  There was no warm water, all that there was was freezing cold water.  Being the innovative young man I am, I started to boil some water on the stove.  After 10-12 mini pots I had my 2 inches of hot water in the tub.  I would say that it hardly warmed me up and not to mention I felt a bit awkwad in 2 inches of water in a tub in France.  The rest of the night was spent eating some eggs and bacon for dinner that we picked up at the grocery store and working on the great internet connection that we had.  The next morning we hopped on the early train back to Paris to catch a connection to Nice in the French Riviera.

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