Spring Break: D-Day Part IV

Seven and a half hours is a long time, especially when you are alone in a tiny town on Easter Sunday. Stepping out of the van after the D-Day tour, I tried to tell myself that I would somehow find a way to pass the next seven and a half hours before my train to Caen swept me off the Bayeux platform and took me 18 minutes south. As much as I tried, I only managed to make it through four hours, and I combed through every square inch of Bayeux.

Hungry after the tour due to lack of breakfast that morning, I sat down in a café and ordered a café au lait* in my best French accent. Attempting to not look pathetic and lonely, I pulled out of my purse the only reading material I had with me: a booklet on Bayeux tourism. Unfortunately, I had left my copy of Lady Chatterley's Lover in my suitcase. After a mere 30 minutes, I had drank all my coffee, eaten the accompanying sugar cubes, and read through the booklet multiple times. Uneagerly, I ventured outside.

I did have an itinerary for the day. I just wasn't sure if it would occupy seven and a half hours. I was headed for the British War Cemetery, which was located next door to the Battle of Normandy Museum that I had visited the previous day. I decided to take my time walking and chose a completely roundabout route that took me around the very borders of Bayeux. On the way, I saw a quaint little plaza,

a random church,

and a park/square, which turned out to be called Place Charles de Gaulle.


Finally, and at the same time too early, I got to the British War Cemetery. In the bright April sunshine, the grass shone a vivid, juicy green. White marble tombstones dotted the field in perfect rows. Like the American cemetery, the British cemetery exuded a feeling of peace and tranquility as well as the unmistakeable hint of sadness.


I made it until about 4pm, at which time I realized that I had absolutely nothing left to see in Bayeux. Collecting my luggage from the hotel, I walked to the train station, where I spent three hours in the waiting room watching movies on my iPod and reading. So much for seeing France.

*coffee with milk

Spring Break: D-Day Part II

Staring at the cloudburst in utter disbelief, I considered my options. I could, a) idly wait an unspecified amount of time for the rain to stop or, b) employ my scarf as a meager head covering and hurry towards the hotel as fast as my short legs could carry me. I chose the latter. As I neared the center, the rain started falling harder and I decided on a whim to go see the Bayeux Tapestry, an activity I had been saving for the following day.

The Bayeux Tapestry is an almost 265-foot tapestry (surprise!) that depicts the story of William the Conqueror and his conquest of Normandy. The tapestry is almost as old as the tale it tells, dating back to the 11th century. The tapestry was mounted behind a glass wall and photographs were prohibited, but the good people of YouTube have provided me with a video panorama :


Apart from a slight drizzle, it had stopped raining when I left the museum and I began to once again enjoy my day, no longer in a hurry to return to the hotel. Sauntering down the puddle stained streets of Bayeux, I admired once again its medieval charm and style. The post-rain gloom added a touch of authenticity, in a way.




I explored some of the busier side streets, observing French shopkeepers and teenagers, before making the executive decision to purchase some food at at the supermarket that was thankfully opened on a Saturday evening before Easter and finally return to the hotel. Intending for my edible loot to last until my arrival in Caen, I bought a bushel of grapes, two apples, Lay's barbecue potato chips (the store did not carry salt and vinegar flavor), and Prince chocolate and white chocolate sandwich cookies, which would end up being my main source of food the next day because I could not afford actual meals.

I expected to enjoy a very long and quiet evening in the hotel room with the television, my assortment of books and movies on my iPod, and the safe knowledge that despite not having a computer, I could still be reached on my cell phone because incoming calls are free. It was not until after my conversation with my parents ended mid-sentence that I realized that the luxury of incoming calls only applied in Spain. I was now officially isolated from the rest of the world, with only D.H. Lawrence, French-dubbed Simpsons, and potato chips to keep me company and fend off my once again impending panic.

Spring Break: D-Day Part I

On the morning of Saturday, April 3, I arrived in Bayeux, Normandy, which is located in the north of France, several miles south of the English Channel. Although I had left behind a cold, rainy Paris, the train pulled into a warm and sunny Bayeux. Thank goodness. Making my way around all the cars in the parking lot, I headed towards the town center, my suitcase rolling jubilantly behind me. I made it to the center without a single issue, using the cathedral as a landmark. Unfortunately, I had some difficulty finding my hotel. Bayeux is not a big town--2.75 square miles--so I embarrassingly circled the same areas three or four times in search of the hotel before finally finding it tucked away on the quiet rue des Bouchers.

The real fun began when I decided to quickly check my e-mail before exploring Bayeux. My computer chose that exact moment to cease working; I was alone in a tiny town and I had very little credit left on my cell phone because all the stores in Spain had been closed the previous couple of days because of the Easter holidays and I had not been able to add money to my account. Panic took absolutely no time at all to instill its unfriendly self in me. Call me materialistic, but this was a bigger problem than going a few days without Facebook. I had quite a bit of work to do and it was all lost somewhere in hardware purgatory. I had also depended on the internet as my main mode of communication since calling from France was rather expensive. If there was ever a time when the word fuck was appropriate, this was it. Despite my calamity, I went to explore Bayeux, consoling myself with the fact that the following night I would be in Caen with my couch surfing hosts and I could use their internet.

Bayeux is a charming little town, medieval and historical. It played an important role in the days of William the Conqueror, almost a millennium ago, and it was the first town in France to be liberated after the June 6, 1944 invasion. The main street is lined with stone buildings--stores, ice cream shops, and restaurants. Due to its proximity to the five D-Day beaches, Bayeux receives quite a lot of tourists. The little town was abuzz with a variety of nationalities the weekend I was there, including some very obvious Americans ("Lisa! LISA! Do you want ketchup on your fries? Lisa!").


I began my sight seeing with the Bayeux cathedral, another Gothic church, yet impressive all the same. I admired the stained glass and the ornate chapels and descended to the catacombs, cool and dark stone lit up by the thin streams of light from upstairs.

After the cathedral, I took a quick lunch break of chicken kebab. Enjoying the warm sun and feeling considerably better about the laptop situation, I then headed towards the Battle of Normandy Museum. I had been waiting eagerly to go to this museum since finding out about its existence. The museum is meticulously filled with quotes, biographies, photos, videos, artifacts, and recreations. A novice World War II junky, I was satisfied. However, my newly found good mood did not last long because during the two hours I was in the museum, the weather had drastically changed. It was pouring rain and I, fooled by the midday sun, had left my umbrella in my hotel room.