Short Update

Once again I have become lazy and not blogged for a while.  I hope to have something for this space later today.

My friend Lynne arrived yesterday.  She managed to get the only flight out of Binghamton, NY that left on Thursday evening in a big storm.  So I'm liking our chances of this being a lucky trip for her--she arrived on Friday the 13th.

We stopped at the pub down the street for a drink--but no dinner since they no longer have food.  We tried to go to the local restaurant but we were a little late, I gather.  If no one is there by 7PM, they close up.  We got there at 6:45PM and it was closed already.  So we went to Passias down the road and had dinner at the grill.  The place is owned by a guy named Steve--he's from London.  And we were waited on by a very lovely woman named Michelle--from Northumberland, UK.  Good dinner and great to hear some English spoken.

We are on our way to Mont San Michele this morning, though the rain is coming sown pretty hard right now.

Since I have written I have visited Rennes in Brittany--a really lovely city that I want to tell you about.  But that will wait for later.

Rouen

I'm afraid this will be a short post.  I went to Rouen on Saturday to see the Impressionist Exhibit at the Beaux-Arts Museum.  The amazing thing was, I managed to park only half a block from the museum, without even knowing it.  I followed signs for parking and ended up underground.  When i got out in the air, the museum was right there.  While there were no pictures allowed to be taken at the exhibit, it wouldn't have mattered anyway since i left my camera at home.

And that was a real shame because Rouen is absolutely stunning.  And it's not just the cathedral area, though that is beautiful.  A large part of Rouen is very old and mostly pedestrian.  The place is filled with the kind of half-timbered buildings that make it look like the 1500s.  And it has many shops where you find things you don't find elsewhere.  It even has art stores where they sell original works.  I went into a couple but could not find anything I was willing to pay the high prices for.  Still hopeful for this week and St. Ceneri.

On my way back I had a bit of a travel incident.  When I first got the car in Paris I asked if I could use my AmEx card for tolls on the highways.  "Sure.  Why not?" said the fellow at Enterprise.  And in fact, I did use the card on my trip from Paris to St. Fraimbault.  On the way to Rouen, I got into the "wrong" toll lane and just paid cash.  But on the way back I got into the credit card lane and discovered that it did not take American Express.  So I had to back up--with a car behind me--and go to the manned toll booth.  And, of course, I had put my card in the automatic machine, so I had no card and the fellow behind me had to deal with the card already in the machine.  Luckily, the woman at the booth understood my dilemma and I got past the booth in only about ten minutes.  The roads are also very expensive, about $20 for 70 miles.

When I got home, I found out that the toll booths are maned by a number of companies who have different cards that they accept.  But there appears to be no way--or at least I haven't found it--to determine what cards the booths take until you are looking right at the machine.  So I guess from now on it's cash.

France is much more of a "you're on your own" kind of country, I think.  Roads are very narrow and you're expected to find a way to navigate them.  The parking spaces are ridiculously narrow and I have trouble getting in and out of them, and I am driving a small car.  The signs for the museum begin a block from the building--things like that.

But when you have gotten the navigation down--and the money sorted out, etc. you really have accomplished something.

Caen, etc.

First a few comments that have been swimming in my brain....

It has always amazed me that Europeans do not use screens on their windows.  In fact, I watch a wonderful program on British TV called Grand Designs in which people either build or renovate properties into modern, mostly ecologically-friendly homes.  Almost always the designs involve a wall of windows that can be opened to make the patio a part of the house and vice versa.

So about a week ago, I opened these two little windows in the door of the house here in St. Fraimbault just to get a little air.  In that short time, two flies got in and have been pestering me ever since.  Am I supposed to keep the windows open so they can go out again?  How do the French/British,etc deal with this?  I still don't know.

And the flies are not just here.  They insist on landing right in front of me--if not on me-- wherever I sit.  One has taken a real liking to the computer screen.  I am absolutely the worst at being able to swat them, so I feel like they are winning.  How long does a fly live anyway?

The other thing I have to say is that I have never seen so much huge farm equipment.  Often it is lumbering down the very narrow streets of St. Fraimbault, or is in front of me on a road where I can't see around it, or is headed toward me and I can't figure out how to get past it.  And I'm not talking just about regular tractors--I mean mega-tractors, or huge trucks piled very high with bales of wheat--or harvestors that take up the width of two tractors.  The other day a large truck passed me with what I thought was dirt.  The fact that it was manure became very clear, very fast.

This is obviously a mostly rural, farm/dairy region.  I wonder about the future of the young people here.  Is it like the US where sons and daughters no longer are content to remain on the farm?  Or are conglomerates eating up the family farms?  It does not appear so, at least so far.  What do people do who don't want the farm life?  Do they have to move to cities like Rouen and Paris?  I just don't know.  I do know that I rarely see a young adult here  in St. Fraimbault--or in the small towns surrounding it.  I have seen some young people in Domfront--but not that many, I have to say.

I have been sleeping a lot here, which is wonderful.  I feel like I am getting about nine hours a night.  I have recovered from the exhaustion I felt when I first arrived, after some frenzied activity in the UK and Paris.  But I am getting up about 8AM.  Aunt Marie once said to me that it was important to get up slowly, so I am trying that.  But that means that I am ready to go out at about 11:30AM.  Unfortunately, much of Normandy closes from 12:30 to 2:30PM.  So I go anyway and am amazed, for instance, that the tourism office closes until 2PM.

Yesterday I went to Caen.  I have been putting off visiting just because it is a relatively big city and I have a tendency to get lost in those places. I do have the GPS, thank God, but even that does not help in certain circumstances.  For instance, I put the address of the Musee de Beaux Arts in Caen into the GPS unit and it would not recognize it until I put in a house number, even though there was none on the address.  And when I got to that address, there was no museum in sight.  So I went for "sights nearby" and put in the museum.  It brought me to a cemetery.  Then I just followed the signs to the Office de Tourisme and could not find that.  But I did find a big fortress.  Luckily I had done some research on the museum and found that the museum was within the castle of William the Conqueror.  I assumed that was what I was looking at and found a parking space a few blocks away.

I walked around the castle.....

and finally found the one and only sign that said that the Musee was within the castle walls.

The museum is very modern looking but you can see echos of the old castle in its design.

There are plenty of other buildings within the castle walls, including this chapel and the musee de Normandie.

And what looked like a vegetable garden.

The exhibit I was looking for was part of the Impressionist festival of Normandy this year.  All the paintings--including those by Renoir, Monet, Manet, Cassat, etc.--depicted scenes by the sea.  And they were lovely. Sorry that I was not allowed to take pictures, and that the shop, which was closed for lunch anyway, did not have any reproductions of those paintings.

That put me in a good mood.  I sat down and had lunch at a place within sight of the castle and was served by an English guy.  It was weird to be spoken to in English in this place.  It felt almost surreal.

By this time, the tourist office was open and I went over and talked to a very nice fellow there--no not this fellow, although he did greet visitors at the door.

I walked down a shopping street that was mostly just pedestrians.

It was quite an extensive area, actually, with many side streets also devoted mostly to pedestrians.

There were mostly modern buildings, but some that looked very old.

I understand that Caen took a real beating during World War II, so it's kind of amazing there are as many ancient buildings as there are, including this church.

Inside was beautiful, if a bit spare.

It had beautiful stained glass windows.

And there was a woman playing the organ above me.

And although I don't believe, I lit a candle for my mother, as I always try to do in churches like this.

At the other end of the street was the Abbaye aux Hommes (men's abbey), now the Church of St. Etienne, attached to the city hall.

It and a similar abbey for women on the other side of town were established by William the Conqueror at the behest of the pope and as offering to the pope to bless his marriage.  William is buried in the church.

I was kind of disappointed in this tomb because it is so modern.  I was hoping for the kind that had a likeness of the person himself above it.

Retracing my steps, I went into the most impressive church in the area, St. Pierre's.  The churches are so long and the spires so tall, it's hard to get them both in without being too far away for any details.

The carvings are just great outside....

and in.

It's a very impressive church.

Now it was time to go home and despite trying to make sure I knew where my car was parked, I took a wrong turn and was on the verge of a bit of panic when I saw the parking lot where the car was.  Another reason why these old cities scare me a bit.  The roads are not laid out in any organized manner.  But that's also their charm.

St. Ceneri-le-Gerai, Granvile

As I had expected, there were, in fact, no artists displaying their works on the street of St. Ceneri-le-Gerai but the hour and a half trip was worth it just because of the beauty of the town--and the prospect for an art fair in the near future.

St. Ceneri claims a number of artists now and in the past and you can see why.  This view alone is just calling out for a painting.

The Sarthe River flows around and through the town.

And looks very calm and narrow for much of the time.

I mention that because St. Ceneri was supposed to have had three miracles while in the area.  One was that he was able to cross the Sarthe River with the help of God.  I have to say, it does not look that hard but maybe the river was different in his time.

The center of the very small town is very lovely, with a road made of paving stones and a number of restaurants and cafes.

Quite a few of the commercial places in town were closed for vacation, including this one.

But the shop at the top of these stairs was open--though no one was actually minding the store while I was there.

The things in the store were quite expensive, I thought.  Forty Euros for a rather amateurish painting on a small piece of plywood?

I walked up to the church in the first photo above and found it open. Inside it was very old except for some very modern sculptures of the stations of the cross.

There were hints that the interior had once been much more ornate.

The altar looked to be in better repair.

There was also a notice of an art exhibition to be held next week in the church.  I'm hoping to make it back for that.

After I left the church

I walked down toward a small chapel that has also apparently been the subject of a number of paintings by local artists.

I walked back toward the center of town on a very lovely street.

Where I saw these kittens--or is it a mother and her kitten playing.

When I got to the center I thought I might try to see whether there were in fact artists who sometimes sold their works here.  But my two attempts to ask ended badly.  I asked the lady who owned a corner bar in town whether she spoke English.  She said something that I took to be yes, but then was mystified by my question.  She directed me to the restaurant down the street, but I could not tell whether she thought I was ordering something she did not have--or if the person at the restaurant could answer my question.

When I got to the restaurant the fellow brushed me off with a "non" when I asked about English and then asked me if I was going to eat.  I said I just wanted a glass of wine and when I sat down he basically ignored me.  

I don't think I am asking for this kind of treatment.  I have tried the totally flummoxed, "I'm throwing myself at your mercy" approach, the "I'm so sorry I don't speak French, do you speak English?" approach, the going right into English approach, but often I find people are rude, dismissive or annoyed by my questions. I suppose it could be because I am an older woman alone.  I don't think they particularly like English speakers here and certainly do not offer a warm welcome to tourists--even at tourist offices.  There are certainly exceptions, but in general the French are not very friendly--at least in my experience.

Yesterday I drove to Ganville, another coastal resort town.  I have been looking into the art of the area and found that a lot of the museums in Normandy are having special shows of Impressionists.  Granville's contribution was an exhibit of Dior gowns that showed the influence of the impressionist painters.  

The exhibit was held at the home of Christian Dior, now a museum.  The home was actually owned by his parents, so I'm thinking he grew up in a rather privileged environment.  The place sits on a cliff over the sea and is surrounded by beautiful gardens.

I can understand creating things of beauty if you are able to sit in places like this...

and see views like this.

The last two pictures were taken through glass panels meant to prevent you from ending up on the beach below.

The exhibition itself was great.  Before I realized you were not able to take pictures inside I did snap this of the garden room.  Just lovely.  I want to live there.

I got back in my car and drove down to the center of Granville.  It looked to be fairly old.

And very busy.

I sat down at a sidewalk restaurant and had a pizza and a glass of wine and noticed this board across the street.  

It's only the second time I have seen Japanese on a sign here.  The other time was in Mont Saint Michel, which is not too far from Granville.

I went looking for an ice cream--but even those stores close for the afternoon siesta.  I did come across the town casino, right on the beach.

The beach here is not as accessible as it was in towns like Houlgate and Deauville.  It seems a lot dirtier, as in as much dirt as sand, and wilder.

But there were a few people on the beach and even a person doing laps in what I assume is a salt water swimming pool, right in the middle of the beach.

Walking back to my car, I saw this Irish import shop....

And an art gallery that was either mocking or touting the almighty US dollar.

There is a port at Granville, which looks to be more about fishing than yachting.

I thought there might be a better beach that people were using so I tried to get that information from the tourist office, which was less than helpful.  Just coming off a two-hour break between 12:30 and 2:30PM, the fellow there still seemed to be much more interested in his paperwork than in helping the people who were visiting the office.  When I asked him for a map of Granville, he gave me one and pointed out where we were so fast that I had to ask again.  When  I asked what was on the other side of town, thinking there might be other beaches, he looked at me quizzically and said it was the way to the next town. Are there beaches?, I asked.  Well yes, he said, in a way that made me think that only the homeless might be interested in them.  They are probably lovely, but after that encounter, I decided to go home.

I have to say that the people in the restaurant where I ate were extremely nice.  It was just the tourist guy that gave me a bad taste for what I otherwise thought was a beautiful place.