W
E ventured out early by car from a cosy mobile home in the quaint town of Quimper, the capital of the Finistère region in the heart of Brittany with Radio Nostalgie FM classic hits accompanying us. The weather forecast was not good. I recalled a pretty young French girl we’d met on a train the night before saying, “You are going to Brittany and Normandy? There it always rains! Be sure you dress warm!”
We first saw Mont Saint-Michel, “the Wonder of the West”, as we braved the cold on a bridge in the nearby town.
The conditions were challenging but under no circumstances were we going to miss this opportunity to visit this magnificent abbey on an island off the beautiful French coastline.
A free shuttle bus known as The Passeur and horse-drawn carriages take visitors from the parking area to the bridge that now links the mainland with the island, thereby avoiding any problems that may arise with the high tides that still protect this iconic structure from any modern-day invaders. These reportedly rise over 15m between low and high tides and are the fastest rising in Europe.
Initial construction started in the early 8th century. Once used as a prison due to its unique situation, it reverted to an abbey in 1863 after representations by many influential figures of the day, including Victor Hugo, and it was declared a Unesco world heritage site in 1979.
As you climb this formidable fortress up the cobbled paths of the Grand Rue, you pass shops and restaurants, including La Mère Poulard, which is famous for its giant omelettes.
We were tempted to try one but at à30 (R433) apiece, we frugally opted for our pre-packed French padkos.
We did manage to peek inside though to see a wall of autographs covering over a century of famous diners, including Ernest Hemingway and Yves Saint Laurent. The blustery weather continued unabated as we explored the abbey and gazed out from various ramparts that reached out over the surrounding sea and mudflats. It was busy with hundreds of visitors but this did not distract from the
Still in the pouring rain and icy wind, we unsuccessfully attempted to take selfies from the ramparts until another tourist, seeing our predicament, offered to take a photo of us with the magnificent view in the background.
Suddenly, the sun pierced through the grey surrounds and lit up the beautiful garden in the cloister, built primarily for the monks to have a quiet place to meditate. We quickly captured as many pictures as possible just before the rain returned with a vengeance.
From our vantage point, we could see hikers making their way to the island over the mud flats, under the watchful eyes of special guides, making sure they were not caught in the dangerous quicksand that can be a major threat to any reckless tourists.
In the curio shops and in many of the rooms, photographs of Mont Saint-Michel show it in all its glory in glorious sunshine and blue sky with a sparkling reflection bathed on the turquoise sea. We did not see that sensational scene. There was no reflection at all with grey, menacing skies and an almost surreal sea. But this was another, meaner, somewhat magical mood of the magnificent abbey and probably was the real picture it paints on most days of the year because we really still believe that pretty girl on the train. — © Neville Green
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