Kristy McCaffrey's Blog: Author Kristy McCaffrey - Posts Tagged "mont-st-michel"
The Earth: Power Points and Ley Lines
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"The Earth: Power Points and Ley Lines"
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Kristy McCaffrey
A Touch of the Old West
http://kristymccaffrey.com/
http://facebook.com/AuthorKristyMcCaf...
http://kristymccaffrey.blogspot.com/
"The Earth: Power Points and Ley Lines"
http://kristymccaffrey.blogspot.com/
Hope everyone is staying warm.
Kristy McCaffrey
A Touch of the Old West
http://kristymccaffrey.com/
http://facebook.com/AuthorKristyMcCaf...
http://kristymccaffrey.blogspot.com/
A Trail Of Bread Crumbs: Bicycling Through Western France
By Kristy McCaffrey
On the second day of a bike tour through the French countryside of Brittany and Normandy, the differences in navigating style between my husband and I come to light. Our tour company—Backroads—has provided us with excellent equipment and enthusiastic guides. Each morning, we’re given a detailed itinerary of the ride for that day. It includes odometer readings and very specific instructions for EVERY turn we must take. Over a 20-mile ride, the list is well over a hundred directions.
I almost laughed out loud the first day we received these. This is far too complicated, I thought. I’ll just follow the person in front of me. Well, turns out I was the slowest of the group. My husband very graciously rode with me, but that meant we had to find our path ourselves. My odometer never worked, so I relied on visual cues. He was devoted to technology. Naturally there came a time when we got lost, and our differing approaches required negotiating. I’m happy to report, however, that our marriage was strong enough to handle this, and we only took a wrong turn five times.
We were invited on this grueling (I mean fun) vacation by my husband’s brother and his wife, Pat and Anne. Whenever an opportunity enters my experience that I’d never before considered, I know that I must pay attention. If not, I’ll miss those bread crumbs along the way. You know, those unexpected moments that occur—those connections, those insights, those meaningful encounters.
“Serendipity is the faculty of finding things we did not know we were looking for.”
~ Glauco Ortolano
Shamans say that everything in the world has a voice. A bike tour, as opposed to a bus or car tour, places you front and center with the earth beneath you, the wild wind around you, and the sunshine warming you. The intensive exercise breaks you down, both physically and mentally, and within these cracks will enter the lush, green, fully-alive French countryside, vibrating in your bones and beckoning you to connect.
Each day, we rode approximately 20 miles, either in the morning or the afternoon, depending on what sites there were to see. There was always a longer option, usually an additional 20 miles, for those desiring more. We did occasionally ride on busy roads—and I won’t lie, these were nerve-wracking—but we were, for the most part, on backroads winding through picturesque farmland. The tour company’s name is appropriate.
My early bread crumbs consisted mainly of horses and cows. Roaming in pastureland, they live an idyllic life and I stopped more than once to take a photograph and perhaps become acquainted. I had no idea I’d make so many animal friends on this trip. On the second day, I coasted down a long hill and met this lovely guy at the bottom.
Here are a few more of my French amis.
We began our trip in St. Malo, a walled port city on the English Channel and apparently the jogging mecca of Europe, if all the runners passing us on the beach—and some were quite old—was any indication. St. Malo was known in the past as the home of French privateers, or pirates. I did keep my eye out for Captain Jack Sparrow.
We explored quaint towns such as Dinan (dating back to the 13th century), entering on a bike path that paralleled the River Rance, a salt water estuary. It was here that we enjoyed a Breton mainstay, a crepe known as a gallete. Delicious and very filling. We also experienced the sometimes spotty service of French waiters. I can honestly say that I’ve met some of the nicest people in all of my travels while in France, but alongside that has been some of the worst restaurant service. Be prepared to switch eating establishments occasionally so you don’t go hungry.
In Normandy, we spent two nights in the town of Bayeux, founded as a Gallo-Roman settlement in the 1st century B.C. and bisected by the River Aure. A magnificent gothic cathedral, consecrated in 1077, anchors the town but even more famous is the Bayeux tapestry, an embroidered cloth nearly 70 meters long. It commemorates the Norman conquest of England in 1066 by William the Conqueror, constituting storytelling for the masses who couldn’t read.
Two significant bread crumbs on this journey were the opportunity to visit Mont St. Michel and the famed Normandy beaches of D-Day.
Mont St. Michel is a monastery dating back to the 8th century. Before that, it was an island known as Mont Tombe. According to legend, in 708 A.D. the Archangel Michael appeared to the Bishop of Avranches and instructed him to build a church. Today, it is one of the most visited landmarks in France. Our tour revealed that an entire village is situated within the lower levels of Mont St. Michel, complete with hotels, restaurants and gift shops. If you ever drop in, I suggest making a weekend of it.
I was quite unprepared for the emotional impact of visiting the Normandy beaches that witnessed the invasion by Allied forces on June 6, 1944. I knew it would be humbling, sobering, and sad. A great wound continues to pulsate, and each visitor is called upon to add a prayer, a loving embrace, to the restless and dedicated spirits that are still present. If you listen closely, you can hear the whispers of pain, but also the resolve of courage, and there is a blessed abundance of peace to be found. The monuments, the cemeteries, and the museums all honor and pay respect to one of the darkest periods of humanity. But despite the deep thread of grief, you leave feeling uplifted. Alongside great evil is always great goodness, and it shines brightly here.
On the final day, our group shared a picnic lunch at the Caen Memorial Museum. It was simple, colorful, and prepared with consideration by our guides. Good food, good friends, and gratitude. All vacations should be filled with such. Always be on the lookout for those bread crumbs.
“Instructions for living a life.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”
~ Poet Mary Oliver
On the second day of a bike tour through the French countryside of Brittany and Normandy, the differences in navigating style between my husband and I come to light. Our tour company—Backroads—has provided us with excellent equipment and enthusiastic guides. Each morning, we’re given a detailed itinerary of the ride for that day. It includes odometer readings and very specific instructions for EVERY turn we must take. Over a 20-mile ride, the list is well over a hundred directions.
I almost laughed out loud the first day we received these. This is far too complicated, I thought. I’ll just follow the person in front of me. Well, turns out I was the slowest of the group. My husband very graciously rode with me, but that meant we had to find our path ourselves. My odometer never worked, so I relied on visual cues. He was devoted to technology. Naturally there came a time when we got lost, and our differing approaches required negotiating. I’m happy to report, however, that our marriage was strong enough to handle this, and we only took a wrong turn five times.
We were invited on this grueling (I mean fun) vacation by my husband’s brother and his wife, Pat and Anne. Whenever an opportunity enters my experience that I’d never before considered, I know that I must pay attention. If not, I’ll miss those bread crumbs along the way. You know, those unexpected moments that occur—those connections, those insights, those meaningful encounters.
“Serendipity is the faculty of finding things we did not know we were looking for.”
~ Glauco Ortolano
Shamans say that everything in the world has a voice. A bike tour, as opposed to a bus or car tour, places you front and center with the earth beneath you, the wild wind around you, and the sunshine warming you. The intensive exercise breaks you down, both physically and mentally, and within these cracks will enter the lush, green, fully-alive French countryside, vibrating in your bones and beckoning you to connect.
Each day, we rode approximately 20 miles, either in the morning or the afternoon, depending on what sites there were to see. There was always a longer option, usually an additional 20 miles, for those desiring more. We did occasionally ride on busy roads—and I won’t lie, these were nerve-wracking—but we were, for the most part, on backroads winding through picturesque farmland. The tour company’s name is appropriate.
My early bread crumbs consisted mainly of horses and cows. Roaming in pastureland, they live an idyllic life and I stopped more than once to take a photograph and perhaps become acquainted. I had no idea I’d make so many animal friends on this trip. On the second day, I coasted down a long hill and met this lovely guy at the bottom.
Here are a few more of my French amis.
We began our trip in St. Malo, a walled port city on the English Channel and apparently the jogging mecca of Europe, if all the runners passing us on the beach—and some were quite old—was any indication. St. Malo was known in the past as the home of French privateers, or pirates. I did keep my eye out for Captain Jack Sparrow.
We explored quaint towns such as Dinan (dating back to the 13th century), entering on a bike path that paralleled the River Rance, a salt water estuary. It was here that we enjoyed a Breton mainstay, a crepe known as a gallete. Delicious and very filling. We also experienced the sometimes spotty service of French waiters. I can honestly say that I’ve met some of the nicest people in all of my travels while in France, but alongside that has been some of the worst restaurant service. Be prepared to switch eating establishments occasionally so you don’t go hungry.
In Normandy, we spent two nights in the town of Bayeux, founded as a Gallo-Roman settlement in the 1st century B.C. and bisected by the River Aure. A magnificent gothic cathedral, consecrated in 1077, anchors the town but even more famous is the Bayeux tapestry, an embroidered cloth nearly 70 meters long. It commemorates the Norman conquest of England in 1066 by William the Conqueror, constituting storytelling for the masses who couldn’t read.
Two significant bread crumbs on this journey were the opportunity to visit Mont St. Michel and the famed Normandy beaches of D-Day.
Mont St. Michel is a monastery dating back to the 8th century. Before that, it was an island known as Mont Tombe. According to legend, in 708 A.D. the Archangel Michael appeared to the Bishop of Avranches and instructed him to build a church. Today, it is one of the most visited landmarks in France. Our tour revealed that an entire village is situated within the lower levels of Mont St. Michel, complete with hotels, restaurants and gift shops. If you ever drop in, I suggest making a weekend of it.
I was quite unprepared for the emotional impact of visiting the Normandy beaches that witnessed the invasion by Allied forces on June 6, 1944. I knew it would be humbling, sobering, and sad. A great wound continues to pulsate, and each visitor is called upon to add a prayer, a loving embrace, to the restless and dedicated spirits that are still present. If you listen closely, you can hear the whispers of pain, but also the resolve of courage, and there is a blessed abundance of peace to be found. The monuments, the cemeteries, and the museums all honor and pay respect to one of the darkest periods of humanity. But despite the deep thread of grief, you leave feeling uplifted. Alongside great evil is always great goodness, and it shines brightly here.
On the final day, our group shared a picnic lunch at the Caen Memorial Museum. It was simple, colorful, and prepared with consideration by our guides. Good food, good friends, and gratitude. All vacations should be filled with such. Always be on the lookout for those bread crumbs.
“Instructions for living a life.
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”
~ Poet Mary Oliver
Author Kristy McCaffrey
Kristy McCaffrey writes western historical and contemporary romances. She and her husband live in Arizona with their two dogs. Visit her online at kristymccaffrey.com.
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