Of War and God - Part II

It's winter and it's low tourist season, but at least we had bright, blue skies and space to breath

Mont St Michel sticks out from the flat coastal landscape of Normandy & Brittany, reaching out to the skies like a mythical medieval city.  Construction begun some 1300 years ago, when a monk was inspired by a vision of Saint Michael to build a chapel on an island.  

Today, the area has become silted due to sediments from around the causeway that links the island to the mainland.  There is a project to remove the causeway by replacing the access with a bridge so that the water can circulate naturally as it did before, and return Mont St Michel to an island.

"Today, the sea does not cover this car park."

The area has Europe's highest tidal variations.  A difference of six hours can make a difference of 15m, and during high tides, some carparks are completely submerged.  Visitors are directed to different carparks depending on tidal patterns determined by the time and day of the month.  

The whole complex is surrounded by salt marshes.

The UNESCO World Heritage Site is made up of 3 levels: Monks lived in the isolated top level, the abbot entertained noble guests at the middle level, and pilgrims were received in the lowest level. 

Shops line the Grande Rue (Main Street) leading up to the abbey.  A place is certified tourist-infested when the shops start selling Hello Kitty paraphernalia. 

Unfortunately, I did not have the chance to browse in the shops AT ALL, as a result of a toilet stop for Sophie, an out-of-battery iPhone, and the misguided notion that couples with 9 years of marriage between them think they know each other well.  Long story short, I did not get to shop, but I *did* get to go up and down Mont St Michel two times searching frantically for my husband and son.

The highlight of the abbey was the cloisters named La Merveille (The Marvel), a courtyard surrounded by intricately-carved granite pillars.

Another view of the cloisters.

We had the fiercest guide that we have met on our many trips showing us around the complex.  She sshh-ed and hushed all visitors, young children or adults alike, French or Japanese.  She clapped her hands loudly to stop the chattering, she accosted them to decimate their joy, she raised her voice sternly to startle them into serious, silent, souless tourists.  Ju made one whiny attempt to tell us how bored he was, and was promptly reprimanded.  We walked in silence for the rest of the tour.  


At the end, she complimented us on our "very well-behaved" children, and how Sophie is such a good listener.  


(Well, who wouldn't, with you around....)