Back to France: Jersey to Mont Saint-Michel

On Wednesday, July 31st, Leslie and I woke up early, had a light breakfast in our Jersey guest house, walked the mile back to the ferry terminal and rode our final ferry back to Saint Malo. The ferry was blessedly not too rough and I managed to doze a bit during the 90 minute journey. My phone had 4% battery power left but it had enough juice for me to answer a call from Jeff when he and the kids arrived in Saint Malo to pick us up. I charged my phone in the car. We had lunch at McDonald's (blah) and then drove the hour from Saint Malo to Mont Saint Michel, all six of us together again. Time for an adventure in Normandy!


Mont Saint Michel was crowded, but we still had fun exploring. Jeff and I couldn't believe how much more touristy the place has become since our last visit 11 years ago back in 2008. There was a whole complex of parking lots with free buses shuttling people to and from the parking. Mont Saint Michel itself was relatively unchanged, as it has been for centuries. We climbed all the way up to the abbey at the top of the wedding-cake shaped island city, but didn't go inside the abbey. None of us felt up to standing in lines and shuffling through a dark church. That is a grumpy bleak way to put it; what I mean is the kids were antsy from the long drive since they had driven 2.5 hours from Vannes to Saint Malo with Jeff that morning, then another hour with all of us to Mont Saint Michel. We also had another 2.5 hour drive back home to Vannes ahead of us, so we respected the limits of our children.

Back to Mont Saint Michel: it was cloudy and crowded, but we all thought it wasn't too crowded or too cloudy to negatively affect our visit. First we walked down around the base of the city as far as we could. The tide was beginning to come in and soon the entire sandy base of the city would be covered in water, except for the bridge where the buses and tourists were flocking. The kids couldn't resist sitting down and playing in the sand, so we spent nearly our first hour there outside the city walls. Eventually we pulled the sandy sloppy children away from the flats, put shoes back on, and entered the bustling narrow winding city streets. We climbed the ramparts up, up, up and around until Leslie needed to rest, then finished the climb and descended into the city streets in search of some water. I purchased our water--I'm getting more bold with my simple French transactions, although most proprietors seem to notice my bad accent and nervous face and toss some English into the mix.

When we had had our fill of the place, we walked back and joined the throngs awaiting the shuttle buses. We only had to shuffle along in the line for about 15 or 20 minutes before it was our turn to board a bus. By high tourist season standards, a 20 minute line is petite!

We got pizza at Domino's in a small town on our long drive home to Vannes. Going to McDonald's and Domino's all in one day while in France seemed like base treachery, but for the record, French Domino's pizza is WAY better than American Domino's pizza, and for an on-the-go road trip quick lunch, McDonald's can't be beat worldwide.

A carefree sailboat on the English Channel. The weather can change so fast in the ocean! It was a beautiful day as we chugged away from Jersey.

Goodbye, Jersey, I know we only saw one mile of you and I am more than a little biased, but I like Guernsey so much better! At the ferry terminal in Jersey when I was buying Leslie a drink, I asked the cashier if Guernsey money was accepted there (Guernsey prints its own money, but it has the same value as the British pound). The cashier answered with a grin "We take Guernsey's money; we just don't talk to them." In that one sentence he seemed to perfectly illustrating the age-old rivalry between the two biggest channel islands.


Mont Saint Michel:

The kids HAD to go stick their feet in the water. There were muddy patches mixed in with the sand and they got mired down. Jeff had to do some serious shoe-scrubbing in the water to salvage their footwear for the rest of our outing.

Scrub-a-dub-shoes.

Rose in the ramparts with a glob of sea mud on her triceps.

Jeff carried Amber a lot in the thick of the crowds. She just kept scampering off too quickly between clumps of people for us adults to squeeze between gracefully and fast enough. Onto Daddy's shoulders she went.

A view of the long bridge where the buses shuttled people to and from parking.

I love steep rustic rooftops.

The abbey, looking pointy and imposing as ever.

Peeking out through the defenses.

People watching as un-subtly as possible: that's our Rose.

It really was fun to look down on people in the streets from up high on the ramparts.

Crowded narrow streets

Mont Saint Michel Abbey

You know how I feel about a good view.

Descending.

Resting on the thick thick wall while Grama Leslie shopped for postcards.

Instead of lactose-agony (aka pizza) for dinner, I bought myself the longest baguette I've ever seen at  a nearby boulangerie. Jeff said nonchalanly, "the length of baguettes is only regulated in Paris." Say what? I didn't know it was regulated at all anywhere! This was a beauty though and exceptionally tasty--a rare combo for end-of-the-day bakery pickings. Jay took this picture for me and did his best. I have exceedingly long arms and this baguette was longer.