We walked to the station via the cake shop, but silly me, realising that the customs people wouldn't let me bring it home, decided I would have to eat Tim's pud myself.
The train trip was scheduled to take from 9:35 to 11:20, and we were in the front of the second of three carriages.
At about 11:00. as we rolled along through a level crossing there was a bang and a crash, bits of debris and dust flew past the window, and we fairly quickly came to a stop. There were 3 or 4 in the driver's compartment, who all put on reflective vests, and a couple got out and went walking back along the track. After a while we were told we had hit a car, and two were hurt fairly seriously. We ended up staying in the train for well over an hour, while gendarmes and pompiers (firemen) walked up and down the line and inside the train.
Eventually, we got out, and could see a piece of the car hanging off the front of the train, scratch marks down the side, and damage to the doorsteps. Oil was spattered on the side of the train. We walked back along the track a little, then up to cleared railway land and a bus came to take us to the next station.
We arrived in Bayeaux at about 1:30. We found the hostel, and some late lunch, then went to the tourist office. We have no more train pass, and no more hostels booked, and were hoping to be able to hire a car from Bayeaux. However, Avis are not in town, so we will have to ring the next town first thing tomorrow morning.
We went to see the Bayeaux Tapestry, which is, after all, why we came here. The taped commentary runs so fast that when we got to the end, we both felt we had to go back and look at it all again. That was much better, and though the commentary wouldn't run a second time, we were able to look at it in much more detail. We looked at their exhibition, went to sleep in their movie, and then came out and went to the cathedral, built by William the Conqueror.
Already it was nearly tea time, so we bought pizza and salad and brought them back to the hostel to eat in the garden. And I ate pud!
David saved the day's photos onto the computer, then went to sleep while I wrote this. Now it's bed time.
Saturday 26 July Mont St MichelWe caught the 9:15 bus for the 9km ride to Mont St Michel,
which is currently celebrating its 1300th birthday; ie it was founded in 708,when a local bishop had the same vision three times. He built a monastery on top of a rocky island just off the coast, and parts of the 11th century buildings are still there today. Most of the fancy decorations were removed after the French Revolution when it was used as a prison, but there are still about a dozen monks and sisters who live there, and follow their religious life.
The island is in a bay which has extremes of tides, so at low tide there are extensive sand flats, but at high tide the island is almost surrounded by water, except for a causeway linking it to the land.
From the bottom of the hill a narrow mediaeval roadway leads up to the abbey. This road/lane way is flanked with souvenir shops, eateries and accommodations in wonderful old buildings.
The abbey has three levels, with the religious centre at the top, rooms for pilgrimaging nobility in the middle, and for peasants at the bottom. Then there are cellars etc built into the foundations.
It is currently running a photographic exhibition called “Entre Terre et Ciel” (between earth and sky), showing photos of 11 UNESCO listed mountains of religious significance, including Uluru.
However, I don't think it was featured enough compared with the others, and none of the photos showed any aboriginal people, who are the ones for whom it has sacred meaning.
Anyway, we got to the top just as an English guided tour was starting, so we joined the tour, which meant we started going back down almost immediately.
We did go back up later, but couldn't go into the abbey. As part of the celebrations, a crowd of modern pilgrims had trekked across the sands,
and had made their way up for a special service. Also at the gate were a mob of 'hunting' demonstrators, (we think pro-), and a million police, so it was quite the in place to be. After lunch it started raining, so as we'd just about seen everything we went back for the 14:40 bus, but it didn't show up, so we waited until the 15:50 came, and went home.
We went into town to try to find internet somewhere, but had no luck, but in a boulangerie/ patissierie found one of the most luscious chocolate puddings I have ever had. I have decided to buy one for Tim if they are open tomorrow. After tea was sort of a repeat of last night – French TV, blog, pack up.
Friday 25 July Quiberon to PontorsonWe'd packed up and left the hotel in time to catch the 9:15 bus to the station, with plenty of time until the 10:05 train.
We changed at Auray, had lunch at Rennes, changed again at Dol de Bretagne, and arrived at Pontorson at 15:15. On one leg I managed to do lots of computer work, adding little extras to some of our earlier blogs which I have saved as Word documents for self-publishing later.
There didn't appear to be any other way to the hostel (we asked a bus driver at the station) so we wallked through the town to the Auberge de Jeunesse, about 15mins. The lady receptionist was very happy to see us (gave her someone to talk to on a lonely afternoon). She showed us around, and up to our room (on 3rd floor – no lift, just lots of stairs and four heavy bags to lug). We walked to the local shops, started up a washing machine at the laundromat, and went to the supermarket to buy some real food to cook in a real kitchen.
While we were there, the shoulder-strap on my special 'Sallies' vinyl holiday handbag finally gave way (I was hoping it would last until we'd finished with public transport after London), so when we got back to the hostel I had to transfer all my good essential stuff to a fabric carry bag. It will feel funny. It started raining just as we got back, so it wasn't worth going out after tea, and besides, I got another blister yesterday so didn't feel like walking. So David is doing sudokus on his phone while the washing blows in the breeze (no-one else in on the 3rd floor, so we have our room door open to allow the air to circulate). We had tea, watched French TV for a while, trying to work out what it was all about, and had a fairly early night.
Thursday 24 July Belle Isle en MerAfter breakfast, we walked back to the station to check that the train times I had for tomorrow were correct, and to reserve seats if necessary. Just as well we did, because the station guy took about 20mins to sort us out.
Our hotel room is on the top floor, pink shutters and window open, underneath 3rd dormer window.
We got back to the Gare Maritime just in time for our 10:20 catamaran ferry to Belle Isle.
This was another of my pilgimages, to visit the lighthouse whose photo we have on the wall in Yendon.
We went on a coach tour of the island with 'Voitures Verts', which means 'green carriages', but the coaches were white, and the drivers wore yellow shirts?? All the commentary was in French, and much too fast for me to understand and translate. We stopped at several locations, for 20 to 60 minutes, so that we could walk about and take photos as we pleased. The first place, on the ocean coast, reminded us of the Great Ocean Road.
We had lunch at Sauzon,
and then went to Point des Poulains, and took lots and lots (and lots) of photos.
We got back to La Palais, the port town, at about 16:30, and wandered about the 'Citadel'
and the town until our boat ride back at 18:30.
After tea, we had a bit of a walk, then came back to the hotel to tidy up,
Wednesday 23 July Paris to QuiberonWe left the hostel as early as we could without rushing, and after 2 changes on the metro, reached Gare Montparnasse, the country station we needed, at 10:00. The train was due to leave at 10:05, and we didn't have a reservation for the TGV, so by the time we joined another queue, we were too late. I thought there was another train at 10:25, but no, it was 12:05! So David sat around and minded the bags, while I wandered the station and the surrounding streets looking for a Post Office to buy stamps and lunch.
We hadn't been able to get the first class seats our Eurail pass entitled us to (none left), so had to pull our bags past 3 locos and 19 coaches till we reached our No.20 carriage next to the front engine, and of course it was jammed packed, with hardly anywhere for suitcases, prams etc (and there were lots of those).
The French train system is definitely nowhere near as efficient or well organised as the German.
We had one change of train, at Auray, to a funny slow local train which only runs in summer, and stops at little camping ground stations along the way to Quiberon. We had to walk about 1km down to the waterfront to our hotel.
This is a very popular beach for day trippers and holiday makers, which reminded me of Lyme Regis.
We got changed, as it was quite a hot day, then went exploring. We booked our boats and bus for tomorrow, had tea, found a castle
and waited for the sun to set into the western sea, but a cloud bank had come up and blocked it out.
We then went back towards Villers-B to the second Australian memorial at Le Hamel, but this is currently being rebuilt, so there was not much to see.
As you drive along you keep passing little cemeteries, with their neat rows of stones, and lists of names, and you try to picture what it was like. But the potatoes are growing, the wheat is being harvested and the hay-bales are being rolled up, and it is so green and peaceful, and Ballarat's population is about 90,000.
where I finally met our Uncle Dick and his chum.
I left him a koala, and wrote in his visitors' book. There was a photo left under one column of names on the wall. It showed four generations of guys who remembered their father, grandfather, gr-grandf, and gr-gr-grandf.
We set up in a hotel in the main square, and I went for a little walk while David slept.
where, with about 500+ others, we attended the local daily commemoration and playing of 'The Last Post', which has happened every evening since 1928.
The gate itself is huge, and has nearly 55,000 names of soldiers missing in the Ieper area.
asked at the tourist office about B&B, and ended up choosing the cute little garden house owned by the tourist lady.
We went for a walk, had tea, drove a little way out of town to a huge crater left when British tunnellers blew up a German command post in 1916,
and then went off to bed.
