Tides of Change

The English Channel—Ahoy! We are sitting on the eighth deck of a Brittany Ferry, sailing from St. Malo, France to Portsmouth, England. Our time in Normandy and Brittany was really great and gave us many opportunities to fill up on crepes, croissants, Kirs, baguettes, chevre cheese, noisettes, and all of the other local fare that we’ve loved for the past 4 months.

We ended our time in France on a very high note. After a lot of effort juggling our schedule around, we finally made it to Mont St. Michel on Friday. After a 5K “pilgrimage” from our hotel to the Mont, we climbed through medieval alleyways to the towering abbey. Looking out, we saw miles of flat, wet sand dotted with puddles as if someone had drained the Atlantic.

We timed our visit to coincide with the few days when the tides rise high enough to flood the normally dry bay. This epic event only happens a couple times a month and takes about two hours. For the first hour we could barely tell that anything was happening. Then, a small and steady wave crept around the closest sandbar, raising the water level a couple of inches as it moved. Soon, sandbars became islands, which then began to shrink and finally to disappear. Currents swirled, gaining strength and depth, and before we knew it, the once-beached Mont was surrounded by water.

The next day we followed in some tour groups’ sandy footprints and headed out to the dry bay, dodging the quicksand along the way. At one point, we came upon a “stream” that cut across the sand. As we waded in, the water got deeper and the current got stronger. Just as we were about to turn back, the water began to get shallower and we emerged on the other side, on a higher sandbar. The view was awe-inspiring. We were standing in a part-time desert, part-time ocean.  That evening, we decided to watch the tide roll in from just above the beach, a view that was really different but equally impressive. From there, the tide seemed to rush in much faster and more dramatically. This time we could hear the waves crashing against the shore.

We left Mont St. Michel for St. Malo, where we spent our last night in France. For once our “budget hotel” was really nice, and we got checked-in in time to walk along the beautiful beach. When the wind got too cold, we continued our walk through the old city to the most incredible outlook from its ramparts. After a farewell dinner, we returned to that spot to watch the sun set over the ocean. It was one of the most beautiful sights of the trip—as if France was giving us a warm “au revoir.”

New pictures starting at number 128:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2556567&id=5726231&l=8b408adf23 

D-Day Dimanche

Ferme d'Escures, Normandy--- Not so much to report, but I am writing this post on our last night as WWOOFers (at least on this trip), an occasion worth noting. Our time at La Ferme d'Escures has been a bit of a mixed bag. There were days when it seemed like there was no work for us to do, which made us feel guilty about being here. They are clearly struggling financially and at times we felt like more of a burden than a help. But the good experiences outweigh the bad, and in the end we are glad to have been here.

We feel very lucky that our time here overlapped with Veronique's friend Marie-Francoise. She was practicing her English and also very knowledgeable about farming, so we came to rely on her a lot. We also became friends, and because of her interest in history, we all went to visit the D-Day Normandy beaches on Sunday. We started in Arrowmanche at Gold Beach, the British counterpart to the American invasion of Omaha Beach. There was a little museum which mainly focused on the Mulberry projects: temporary, floating harbors built incredibly quickly in the heat of battle. On the beach we walked amongst the remains of the ramps that connected the harbor to the shoreline. It was humbling, but we were shocked at how the information was presented. It seemed to focus almost entirely on the engineering feat of the harbors rather than the actual battles that occurred. The video presentation was as much an instructional guide to building a floating harbor as it was a testimony to the many men who lost their lives. As Americans, we take D-Day extremely seriously. In Ben's words, "It was our finest hour, and it made us the world power that we are today." We didn't get the impression that the Europeans valued the D-Day battles the same way.

Our feelings were only confirmed at our next stop, Omaha Beach. Here, in a very Washington, D.C.-like museum  we were immediately shown inspiring and emotional quotes, photographs of soldiers, statistics about how many fought and died, timelines, artifacts, all arranged in an incredibly interesting and moving way. Here the video (narrated in the quintessential Marlboro man voice) focused on the importance of the the sacrifices the young soldiers made and how crucial their victory was. I joked about the corny voice at first but by the end was moved to tears. The museum lead outside to the American cemetery, where thousands of white marble gravestones stretched out in perfect parallel lines, not unlike troops marching. The pictures speak for themselves. We left the beach feeling that D-Day got its due respect and that we were proud to be Americans.

New photos on the same link as last post, beginning with number 93. Also see our revised calendar at the bottom of the page for an updated, accurate schedule of the time we have left.

Ridin' Dirty

Ferme d'Escures, Normandy, France -- We are settling into our new roles here and getting a chance to catch our breath a bit. It's been over three months that we've been flying, training, hiking and living all over France, Switzerland and Israel and we are finally showing some signs of fatigue, both mental and physical. So, now that we've been here for five days, with only four hours of work asked from us per day (though we do about six) we are recharging our batteries.

Also, our free time and energy gives us a chance to do the things that we never seemed to have time for on this trip. Betsy has been reading a lot, I was able to finish my Tony Garnier drawing from Lyon, but most excitingly, we had the chance to teach Betsy how to ride a bike! She wasn't scared at all and picked it up really quickly. We suspect that she might have learned in the past, but hasn't ridden in over fifteen years. Anyway, this new freedom has allowed us to bike to the small town of St. Jean-Le-Blanc, and really explore the verdant countryside. The hills here were a big challenge, especially because I was riding a broken bike that's chain kept catching. Corn, which is just starting to grow, and wheat seem to be the crops that fill the fields here, and of course the many dairy cows for Camembert!

The most exciting thing that happened around the farm this week was when I noticed a rabbit that had gotten out of its cage. It took a while, but we finally caught it. Not for long though as he got out a minute later and stared at us almost patronizingly. Betsy said we "felt like Elmer Fudd." It took two more times catching Bugs Bunny before we could rig the cage enough for him to stay put. Other than that and some mishaps with the goats, things have been pretty calm.

New Album! Our travels through Lyon, Loire Valley and now Normandy:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2556567&id=5726231&l=8b408adf23