Germany/France — July 30, 2012

Along with flights and the hotels, I had booked a guided bus tour to Mont Saint Michel

 through the travel agent. The tour was scheduled to leave at 7:15 Monday morning and get back 14 hours later — and give or take a few minutes, that's what happened.

I allowed plenty of time to get to the departure point

 (Place du Pyramide — or is it des Pyramides) by subway. It's a good thing I did. I emerged at street level

 on the Avenue de l'Opéra and decided to walk in the direction away from the Opera. That was a mistake. It was about four blocks directly to my destination if I had taken the intersecting street. Before long I realized I had no idea of where I was headed and stopped a passerby for directions, which enabled me to report to the bus in good time.

Early on in the ride, I saw a street sign: we were driving on the Champs Élysées, and ahead I could see the Eiffel Tower. So I can check off two sights I hadn't even really planned to see. We stopped for refreshments about halfway through the ride. The highway brought us within sight of Caen and a few other cities whose names are familiar from history books. When we arrived, we were provided lunch in

 a restaurant at the mainland end of the causeway to the Mont: a local recipe omelette, salmon, and dessert, with local hard cider and coffee.

Then a shuttle bus took us over the causeway. We walked (climbed?) to the top with our guide and started our tour. She had a wireless system for us to listen to her so we could hear her above the other groups without her needing to shout. We started in

 the church, which is the highest building, (top to bottom: facade built when the west end of the nave collapsed; east end, gothic choir and apse; west end, romanesque nave walls and barrel vaults) and then went through the rest of the buildings,

(top to bottom: cloister; monks' refectory, notice that the thickness of the walls allows the windows to illuminate the room while all but the nearest are not seen; statue in funerary chapel; scriptorium; scriptorium again, this time with a view of the chimney of one of the two fireplaces so the copyists coud keep their hands warm to write — the only heated room)
going twice around the Mont (I think) as we descended through the various levels. Finally we arrived at the base of the monastic buildings (and the souvenir shop) after which we were on our own for somewhat under an hour before we'd have to take a shuttle bus back to the mainland. (More detail than I'm giving can, no doubt, be found via google or other search engines.)

A couple of photos showing the rock on which the monastery is built

There were two ways to get to the base of the mont: one was to walk down the crowded main street of the village; the other was the walk along the top of the ramparts, less crowded. I chose the latter, but when I got to the base in good time, I decided to walk up

 the main street a short distance and pop into a restaurant (at the Hotel Croix Blanche) for a refreshing cold cup of cider. I got back to the mainland in time to enjoy the coolness of the strong breeze off the water and get a good look at the dam that has been built across the River Cuesnon which empties into the bay on the west side of the Mont. It has sluice gates which will enable it to regulate the flow to provide maximum rates so as to help wash out the silt which has been accumulating since the building of the causeway and threatens to turn the island into a peninsula.

Back in Paris, I took the subway to the Île de la Cité for another look at Notre Dame, and walked back to the hotel. Then I headed out for another stroll and eventually,  sometime after 10:00 settled on a restaurant where I took a table on the sidewalk (apparently, from the reviews, it would have been much more crowded earlier in the evening) and treated myself to what the tourist companies would call a "gala farewell dinner" to the tune of 92.60€ (= $114.06), which is more than I have ever spent on a meal for myself alone, except maybe on one or two occasions in very fancy restaurants. Well if it was 20 or 25 dollars more than I might have expected to pay before I chose the place, it was nice to have a really fancy meal for my last evening of the trip.

All in all, it was a very satisfying day to end a very satisfying time in Europe.

Click on photos to enlarge — I highly recommend it.

Germany/France — July 29, 2012

As mentioned in my previous post, Sunday became my day to go to Chartres. But first I went to Mass at Notre Dame Cathedral. It turned out to be a Mass with  Latin Gregorian Chant. Much of the congregational part was familiar to me from when I was a boy, so I was able to join in readily.

At Gare Montparnasse, I just missed the 12:09 train, so I had to wait for the 1:06, which was scheduled to arrive at 2:07. Malcolm Miller doesn't give tours on Sundays, so I bought a copy of a guidebook he had written and followed it around. The cathedral

 is fascinating, and the book explained it well. When a 4:00 organ concert was about to begin, I decided to head out for lunch

 at a restaurant (center left, with white placard in front) across the plaza from the south side of the cathedral.

After lunch, I took

 a picture of the St. Thomas Becket window in the martyrs' chapel in the southeast corner of the apse. The tower closes at 6:00, with no admission after 5:30, and at about 5:25 I started up.

 Altogether I went up about 400 steps, getting to the level of the bells. There was a good breeze with some drizzle and, given my fear of heights, I decided not to go any higher. When I got back down, I decided I'd better get back to the station to catch the 6:30 train back to Paris (which was actually scheduled for 6:52, to arrive at 7:53), rather than stay and take the 7:34 and get back at 8:50. Through general inadvertence, the distraction of the organ concert, and concern to get a timely train back to Paris, I missed getting to the crypt, which would have been interesting, and I didn't go to see the robe of the Virgin Mary in the northwest apse.

Strolling around in the area east of Rue St. Jacques, I got disoriented. Thinking I was headed southwest, back toward my hotel, I actually walked about 15 or 20 minutes easterly parallel to the Seine. When I got to the Place d'Austerlitz, I consulted my map, realized my mistake, and retraced my steps. For dinner I went to another restaurant in the Latin Quarter and had one of the "menus." The restaurant had lots of exposed wood and stuffed animal heads. Three young men came and sat at a table in view of mine. I noticed that they seemed to be economizing, including drinking only water. Belatedly, it occurred to me that I could have bought them a drink — beer or wine — but by the time I thought of it it was too late: they were finishing their meal. I enjoyed everything, although reviews are decidedly mixed. The whole meal cost me 37.10€ which came out as $45.70 — again, less than I'd probably pay in a restaurant hereabouts.

Click on pics to enlarge.

Germany/France — July 28, 2012

There were three places in France which I wanted to see: Sainte Chapelle, in Paris, Chartres Cathedral, and Mont Saint Michel. My plan had been to go to Chartres on Saturday, July 28, and get into the 2:45 p.m. English language tour guided by Malcolm Miller, which several people had recommended. But when I got to the hotel, I was informed that check in was only available after 1:00 p.m. From my internet research, I knew that to get to Chartres in time for that tour, I'd have to catch the 1:06 train from Gare Montparnasse. It didn't occur to me that I could go out to Chartres and then check in at the hotel when I got back. Instead, I decided to make Saturday my day for exploring Paris and seeing Sainte Chapelle, and to postpone Chartres until Sunday afternoon.

I left my luggage at the hotel (The hotel is on the "Rive Gauche" in the heart of the Latin Quarter, across the street from a corner of the Sorbonne.) (see map), and set out on foot down Rue St. Jacques toward the Seine.  Two blocks away I saw an interesting looking church, St. Séverin, and I went in to check it out. The present building was begun at the same time Notre Dame was being built. I have

 a few pictures, but I really recommend going through the English  tour on the church's own website. Check out all the links in the tour. For pictures of the modern windows, go to this site. And a few more pics are here. I took my time looking around the church, which had a number of multilingual explanatory displays on reading stands. There was a 12:15 Mass, which I attended, in the Eucharistic Chapel. Then I went back to the hotel and checked in and went out to lunch (outdoors) at a restaurant across the street from the church.

Then it was time for the main business of the day. I continued along Rue St. Jacques toward the Seine. As you can see from the map, it leads to a bridge, and when you cross the bridge

 Notre Dame Cathedral is to your right at the other end of a plaza. This picture was actually taken from the bridge. Sainte Chapelle (or more generally here) is a couple of blocks away, at a spot on the map indicated by the words "La Conciergerie."

 It's in the courtyard of the Palais de Justice, which seems an anomaly, but is understandable. Originally the royal palace stood on  the site, and the Sainte Chapelle served both as the site for the relics which St. Louis IX obtained, and as the chapel of the kings. One royal function was to administer justice for the realm, and that function is now performed by the courts, headquartered in the Palais de Justice. The sheathing covers some windows which are being cleaned and restored. But most are still visible.

I had wanted to see it since reading an article in  the Christian Science Monitor, in which the writer told of being in a tour group. One member of the group was a constant complainer, and as they climbed the narrow circular stone staircase, she kept up a stream of grumbling complaints until the instant she reached the doorway and caught a glimpse of the chapel, which caused her to fall instantly silent in awestruck admiration. It is amazing, overwhelming, and it's easy to understand its effect on that tourist. Even knowing the story, I was similarly awestruck at

 my first glimpse of it — a case in which expectations were not disappointed. I have to admire the artistry and technical skill which enabled people to create

 such beauty and the faith which motivated them to do it.

I stayed there almost till closing time. On my way back to the hotel, I checked out Mass times at Notre Dame and bought some cheese and a bottle of tea at a grocery store. Dinner was at a restaurant a block from the hotel, on the Boulevard St. Germain. The restaurants often have what they call "menus," which are not what we mean by the word in English, but pre-set choices: for a set price, you choose among certain appetizers, certain main courses, and certain desserts; for another price, you can choose among other appetizers, main courses, and desserts. One of the menus at this restaurant offered a Basque item called axoa (or more generally), which sounded good. But as I pondered my choices, I forgot about it and chose the steak instead. Dang! The steak was fine, but this had been my first, and maybe last chance to sample axoa. The waiter said that they sometimes repeat a special, but they'd be closed on Sunday, and I knew that on Monday I'd get back too late from Mont Saint Michel. The menu cost 15.50 euros; beverages (bourbon, wine, coffee) added another 15.60; my credit card company exchanged it to $38.50, which is less than I'd expect to pay for a comparable meal at most restaurants I go to around here.

I recommend clicking on the pictures for enlargements, which show the detail more clearly.

BTW, I've just added pics to my first post about the trip.

Germany/France — July 27-28, 2012 — Night Train to Paris

I had decided to economize by taking an overnight train from Berlin to Paris, rather than adding another night in a hotel and then spending much of the day traveling. So I had a ticket and a reservation for a seat in a second class compartment. As the time approached for the trip, I found myself wondering if I had made a wise decision. Should I have paid more for a private compartment with a sleeping berth?

There seemed to be a lot of college-age students among the people who would be in my car. Eventually the train arrived, and we boarded. I had the rear-facing seat nearest the corridor. The window seat was occupied by a middle-aged German who had brought along beer and snacks (and it occurred to me that I should have brought some provisions too). In the seat facing me and the one next to it were two college-aged girls, dressed for the weather in very short shorts and tube tops or something of the sort. Eventually I noticed that they were also wearing identical St. Christopher medals. The other window seat and the one next to me were empty at first.

We pulled out of the station, and before long we were in open country — farmland with crops similar to those I had seen in Bavaria with occasional cows or sheep. I noticed that some people were in the corridor, with windows open (from the top). When the conductor took tickets, I asked if there was food and beverage service. There was, in the car behind ours. So I paid a visit and bought a beer to keep hydrated in the heat and get a few calories. One of the girls said they had been told that beer was good with Coke*, and I said Coke was also for sale, so they could try it. Eventually they did and found it okay.

*I suspect the idea of beer with Coke may have been with reference to Berlin-style weissbier, which is so sour that I find it virtually impossible to drink. Ass I understand it, the local custom is to have it with a shot of some kind of syrup to sweeten it a bit.

Anyway, after I finished my beer, I decided to go into the corridor to try to cool off a bit. Standing by the open window was really pleasant, both for the cooling wind and for the view of the scenery. As on earlier evenings, I also enjoyed the long twilight which made things visible until around 10:00p.m. I began to see the clouds illuminated by lightning inside them, and in a while it started to rain, so it was necessary to close the windows most of the way to keep the rain out, but I stayed there until we reached Hannover. We sat in the station there for some time, then pulled out and went back, but switched to a different track. At that time passengers were allowed to board, and the other window seat in our compartment was taken by a man who was wearing what looked to me like a Franciscan tau cross.

After we left the station, I again went to the corridor to stand at a window. But now it was quite dark. Artificial lights were visible, of course, and it was possible to make out hillsides and treelines against the sky. Occasionally a train passed in the opposite direction, with an explosion of air and loud noise. Often I could realize they were approaching in time to shut the window. I really continued to enjoy it. Finally , shortly before midnight, I went back (although it was now forward as we had reversed directions in Hannover) and got a Coke and a water.

When we stopped in Gottingen, a young man boarded and took the seat next to me. Finally, I decided to try to sleep and I did doze for shorter or longer periods. Everybody was trying to sleep. Occasionally the young man's left side would press on my right arm, which was pleasant, but before long he'd shift.

At Mannheim, we made a long stop. If only I had known in advance, I could have invited Lunario to come to the station (at about 2 or 3 a.m.) and we could have met. Finally we reached Saarbrücken and then crossed into France. Daylight caught up with us. I got coffee and orange juice. The man with the tau cross took out a prayer book — a German Liturgy of Hours (Kleines Stundenbuch) which priests have to pray — which I instantly recognized because I have exactly the same book. I had noticed it in a bookstore on one of my trips many years ago and had bought it, even though I'm not a priest.

As we approached Paris the young man struck up a conversation. He was French and was going to his home in southwestern France. I told him about my trip and my plans. He asked what hotel I'd be staying at in Paris. I looked through my folder for Berlin-Paris, and my folder for Paris, and couldn't find the sheet from my travel agent which gave the name and address with confirmation of the reservation. All I knew was that it was a Best Western with the word "Tour" (Tower) somewhere in the name. At that point I was pretty nearly in panic mode, but he reassured me that it should not be too much of a problem, and he could help When we got to the station (Gare de l'Est) he brought me to the information desk and had the clerk look up Best Westerns. She couldn't find one with Tour in the name. So he had her find one near Gare Montparnasse, where he had to go to get his next train. He then showed me how to buy tickets for the subway and when we reached Montparnasse, he directed me to the hotel. At the hotel, the clerk was able to find the name of Best Western Tour Notre Dame and print out directions to get there by bus. So I got to the hotel, where they had my reservation in their computer, and all was again well. But I did comment to the clerk, "Old men should not be permitted to travel alone."

I don't know exactly what would have happened if that young man had not been there to guide me. I'd have been at Gare de l'Est with only the vaguest idea of where my hotel was and no way of figuring out how to get there, in a city which, like Boston, has streets which make it easy to become disoriented. IOW, I really believe that it was divine providence which led to our being seated next to each other. Not only did he enable me to find my hotel, but in the process, I got a tutorial in how to use the Metro. (BTW, I eventually concluded that when I got to the hotel in Berlin, I inadvertently gave them my paper for Paris as well as the one for Berlin, and they didn't notice or didn't realize that I needed the Paris paper back.)

But apart from that, my misgivings about traveling second class in a shared compartment were entirely unwarranted. Once I discovered the possibility of standing at the window, it was delightful. It's not ideal for sleeping, of course, but you can always catch up on lost sleep — eventually.