Reposting this from 2 year ago, after Andrew and I visited various war sites in France.
The train, multi-national: April 28th, 2010
Today
was a travel day. We spent approximately 9 hours on the train (not
including the local train in Italy to get us to Milano, about 30
minutes), plus layover time (which was around 15-20 minutes at Milano
and Zurich), plus a 45-minute, hectic crossing of Paris from one train
station to another. We got into Caen, France around 9:00 pm. It took us a
few minutes more to figure out where to go for our hotel, but thanks to
the assistance of some friendly Red Cross workers we were on our way.
Unfortunately, once we got to our hotel they didn’t have our
reservation, which was what we feared would happen. We had had some
difficulties with the online reservation system earlier and had only an
email from a staff member saying we had a room. The staff covered the
confusion reasonably well and we were provided accomodations after only a
short delay. Once installed into our room Andrew ran out to grab some
dinner (donair). We scarfed it down and we went to sleep pretty much
immediately afterward.
Caen/Courseulles-sur-Mer, France: April 29th, 2010
On
our first morning in Caen we knew where we wanted to go, but we weren’t
sure how we were going to get there. Our hoped for destination was Juno
Beach, the landing location of the Canadian Army in 1944 when Operation
Overlord was put into action. The night before I had noticed signs
pointing to the tourist office, so once we were washed and dressed
(although not yet fed) we headed out in search of information. It was a
nice morning, promising warmth and sunshine, which helped our somewhat
aimless wander through Caen. The signs to the tourist office continued;
however, the exact direction they were pointing in was sometimes
unclear. We did get lost (although not by too much), but we eventually
found our goal. The office wasn’t open until 10:00 am, so we took the
downtime to score breakfast (some kind of bun-thing with chocolate
chips).
Once the tourist office was open, we were
helped by a friendly employee. We thought at first we might be able to
take a tour to see all of the landing beaches (Gold, Sword, Omaha, Juno
and Utah), but the bus was full. When we explained the most important
stop for us was Juno, we were informed we could take a local bus
directly there, although we would have to wait a bit for the next one
(in about 30 minutes), and the trip would take approximately an hour. We
located our bus stop, only a couple of blocks away, then took a walk
around the immediate area to see what else was around. Most places were
closed at this time, but we did pick up a couple of hot drinks before
returning to the stop. The bus ride to Courseulles-sur-Mer (the town
beside Juno) was pleasant, and as I said, an hour long. It was nice to
see the French countryside and the small towns along the way. Our stop
was about a 7-10 minute walk about from the beach.
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| The beach at Juno. |
Upon arriving we decided to take a good look around
the shore. It looks like a regular beach, there isn’t much left at Juno
(although I think that’s not necessarily the case at other landing
points) aside from the remnants of a couple of German bunkers, but I
found it fascinating anyway. After a half an hour or so we headed into
the museum and were attended by some very friendly Canadians (I think it
had been a quite morning and they were a tad bored). We chatted as we
paid our entrance and signed up for the tour later that day before
entering the exhibit. I found the permanent exhibit at Juno exceedingly
interesting. I could remember bits and pieces of the information
conveyed from school history classes (always my favourite topic). It
seemed to me that the designers had made a concerted effort to
demonstrate to the rest of the world what Canada was like during the
first and second world war, and the toll (different for the war-torn
countries in Europe) it took on our country.
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| The statue outside the Juno Beach Centre. |
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| A close up of the statue outside the Juno Beach Centre. |
We took our sweet time going through the museum
before heading out to meet our tour guide at 3:00 pm (we headed into the
exhibit around 12:00 pm). By this point, the beautiful spring day had
turned into an unpleasant, cold, rainy one and so everyone huddled under
hoods and umbrellas to stay dry. Our interpreter explained to us the
purpose of the Juno Beach Centre, took us into the remains of the German
observation bunker, and described what storming Juno would have been
like. Afterward we chatted some more with her and were invited to join
the Canadian interpreters at O’Donnell’s (the Irish Pub) in Cean later
that evening. Before leaving the site we briefly checked the temporary
exhibit, which was on the Metis. We didn’t stay long as we hadn’t had
lunch (now 5:00 pm) and our return bus was in an hour.
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| A view of Juno Beach Centre and the observation bunker. |
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| An interior shot of the bunker. |
By this point the weather had cleared up again and
was quite cheery. We grabbed a quick (and delicious) meal at a local
restaurant before heading to our bus stop. Then we waited. And we
waited. And we waited until almost half an hour after the bus was
supposed to come. Not sure what else to do we headed back to Juno Beach
since we knew the Canadian interpreters were heading back to Caen that
evening. We felt bad bumming a ride, but we didn’t know how else to get
back to our hotel. Being Canadians, and just friendly people in general,
they helped us out and six of us piled into a tiny car in order to get
back to Caen. I sat on Andrew’s lap while my head touched the roof. It
wasn’t the most comfortable ride I’d experienced, but it got us where we
were going.
I don’t remember when we finally got back
to our hotel, but it was around 8:00 pm. We had dinner (Moroccan food)
then got ourselves ready to go back out. Perhaps if we hadn’t needed to
go back to Juno Beach to get a ride we would have stayed in and gone to
bed at a reasonable hour. Instead we went out into Caen around 9:00 pm,
located O’Donnell’s, and ended up staying out until 1:00 am. We drank
and danced, and in general had a good time with our new Canadian
friends. We also made arrangements to pick up one of the newest
interpreters who hadn’t yet started work, and take him with us on our
journey to Arras (via Dieppe) the next day.
Arras (via Dieppe), France: April 30th, 2010
We
woke up far earlier than we would have liked given our late return to
our hotel, and walked to the nearby Hertz to see if we could arrange a
car rental. This was one of the few aspects of the trip we hadn’t
arranged before hand. As it turned out, the rental wasn’t a problem
(although somewhat expensive given the add-on fee for the second driver,
the drop off for a different city and the GPS). We had the car in maybe
20 or 25 minutes and were off. We ended up driving several (many, like
way more than necessary) blocks to just park a street over from where we
started then walked to our hotel. We had two things to do before we
headed off: 1) Call the folks at Juno to confirm we did have a car and
could take our new friend with us, and 2) eat some breakfast. Phoning
ended up being more of a challenge then we’d anticipated. Andrew’s cell
phone wouldn’t work, nor did the one in our hotel room. We had to keep
bothering the hotel front desk workers until we got through.
At
around 10:00 am we headed off. I agreed to drive the first leg, so we
set up the GPS and off we went. I actually kind of enjoyed driving in
France. The rental car was a standard, which was fine as I learned on
one, but it did make city driving slightly more difficult as the
occasional stall was a problem. The drive out to Courseulles-sur-Mer
took around 30 minutes. We didn’t stop long, just giving ourselves
enough time to pop into the visitors centre to say hello and thanks,
then we were off again. Our first destination was Dieppe, the coastal
town the Canadian army attempted to liberate in 1942. The operation was a
disaster, although some people try to see it as a training ground and
major cause of the success experienced in Operation Overlord. A moment’s
consideration for driving cross country in France: it is different then
driving across Canada (no really?). In Canada, you tend to get on a
highway and drive for ages until you reach your destination. In France I
was constantly taking exits, going through roundabouts, and slowing
down to pass through small villages. Although the speed limit got up to
130 km/hr at one point, I was generally traveling at something more like
60 or 70 km/hr.
We arrived in Dieppe around 2:00 pm
and wound our way to the Canadian museum there. To our unfortunately
luck, it was not open (we were a few days ahead of peak season and only
had limited hours). We grabbed some lunch at a nearby café then headed
out to investigate the beach. It was rocky, but pleasant, and giant
cliffs over looked the coast. Our next stop was the Canadian park, at
the base of one of the cliffs and over looked by the Dieppe castle. The
park was quite pretty, with a few commemorative statues and cheerful
flowers. A few locals were sitting and relaxing as we strolled around.
After a bit we decided to see if we could get on top of the cliffs for a
better view point and headed off down the street. We came to a driveway
leading up to the castle and decided to check it out. Entrance was only
4 euros so we went in. The castle contained a collection of naval
themed art, and ivory pieces. It was pleasant enough, although didn’t
linger for more than an hour.
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| The beach at Dieppe, with the cliffs over looking the water. |
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| The Canadian Park, at the base of the cliffs. |
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| The castle on the top of the cliffs. |
When we were done at the castle we headed out a
different exit, which took us higher up the cliffs. At the very top were
the remains of some kind of fortifications, but its purpose wasn’t
clear. Not too far a long the road there was another bunker, and keen to
see what it was and I managed to convince Andrew and our friend to
wander down to check it out. As it turned out, we couldn’t get into this
particular bunker. The door was boarded up, and the windows were too
narrow to shimmy through; however, I noticed there was another building
not too much farther along. We continued along on the agreement that
this would be the last stop and we lucked out. This bunker was open. We
approached it from the front, but quickly discovered we could climb onto
the top and around to the other side where the door was still open.
Although the main room was pitch-black, we ventured through to what was
probably the observation room. Clearly the teens of Dieppe had been
visiting this place for decades as the floor was littered with bottle
caps and graffiti covered the walls.
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| The German pillbox. |
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| The entrance to the German pillbox. |
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| The view of the beach from the German pill box |
After this exploration we did indeed head back to the
car where we made a most unfortunate discovery. We’d received a parking
ticket! It hadn’t occurred to us that we might have to pay for parking
and so we'd just left the car without thinking more than 3 hours before.
We tried to use our GPS to locate the police station where the tickets
were issued, but had some difficulty determining exactly where we were
supposed to go. In the end it turned out that all we had to do was go to
the nearest convenience store and purchase a special stamp that covered
the amount we were fined and put it in the mail. Once this task was
covered we headed off for Arras, another 2.5 hour journey. We made it
(though not without a few “Re-calculating route” comments from the GPS)
and while it was still light outside. Parking was a bit of a challenge,
but I’ll get to that…
Arras, Vimy Ridge, France: May 1st, 2010
We
had breakfast at our hotel that morning (all you can eat, with lots of
fruit, breads, cheeses, etc) and checked out before heading out to
retrieve the car. The night before Andrew had parked in the square
nearby, believing that it was safe to do so over night. Well, it was
safe, and we didn’t receive another parking ticket, but it was
surrounded. An outdoor market had filled the streets around the square
that the morning. On first glance we weren’t too sure how we were going
to get out of our spot, but after a quick survey of the land, Andrew was
able to determine it was possible. We slowly inched our way out, having
to wait for people to get out of our way as we crept along the street.
We found another parking lot nearby that was free (and you know, a
proper lot). Andrew headed back to meet up with our friend, while I
checked out the market in search of some lunch food.
Around
10:30 or 11:00 am we headed off for Vimy. It was probably a good thing
we’d rented a car, as even though we could have made it to Arras by
train, we would have been hard pressed to find our way out to the ridge.
No public transportation goes that way and it’s a solid 10 miles (not
km) outside the city. I was surprised when we reached the park to find
that there were all kinds of joggers and walkers on the trails--I’m not
sure why, maybe because to me this seems like an almost sacred place,
but to the people who live there I suppose it’s just another park with
some war monuments. As we followed the signs around the park to the Vimy
monument I marveled at the enormous crater holes left behind from the
shelling and landmines during the war. Numerous signs had been posted
warning visitors to not step onto the fenced off areas as active mines
are still buried in the ground.
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| A view of the Vimy memorial from the parking lot. |
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| The monument. |
The Vimy monument is an imposing figure when you
arrive at the site, even on a grey, windy day. The two columns tower
over the ridge, and the base is just plain massive. As we approached we
noticed a Canadian interpreter standing by unoccupied, so we asked her
if she could show us around the monument and she seemed happy to oblige
us. She walked with us along the path and explained the history of the
monument, its construction, the meaning of figures (such as the mourning
parents, Mother Canada, etc) and kindly answered our questions.
Eventually we wander about the monument on our own, taking a closer look
at the carvings and gazing over the over 11,000 names carved on the
walls. After some time we decided to drive (thinking the distance was
greater than it was) over to the visitor's centre.
At
the visitor’s centre we were able to sign up for a tour over the
trenches and subways left behind at Vimy. We picked up some pins,
postcards and stamps as we waited for our tour to start. Remains of both
the allied and Germany trenches are still in place. We were able to
pass through these trenches, and gain the faintest of ideas of what it
might have been like to spend time in the trenches, only a few feet away
from the German lines. These trenches are dry of course, and didn’t
smell, so we couldn’t really image what it might be like to spend hours
in these mazes. We also ventured into the Grange subway system and saw
the only remaining piece of authentic first world war graffiti--a maple
leaf carved into a stone wall.
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| The maple leaf graffiti, protected behind a sheet of plexi-glass. |
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| The remains of the trenches at Vimy. These were the Canadian trenches. |
Once we’d completed our tour we carried on to the two
war cemeteries located in the park. As we walked, we passed the herd of
sheep that live on the grounds. They are the park’s lawnmower as the
heavily cratered ground are not amenable to electric or gas run mowers.
We took our time as we passed through the rows of headstones. Not all of
the stones had names, some just stated “a soldier or the great war”
where the buried soldier is unidentified. Before departing from the park
we returned to the monument once more for a second look around. Before
coming I wasn’t sure how I would react to visiting these war sites. I
thought my imagination and my emotions might overwhelm me and that I
might break down into tears. I didn’t, but I was definitely full of
thoughts of what it must have been like to be at war.
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| The sheep mowing the lawn at Vimy. |
We headed back into town around 5:30 pm. We returned
our rental car (after a couple of loops of the streets of Arras as we
tried to figure out exactly where we had to go), and managed to grab
some dinner before our train embarked for Paris. We said goodbye to our
friend, who was heading further north, then relaxed on the train as we
ate our dinner. We were in Paris a little less than an hour later. It
probably took us no more than twenty minutes to get from the train to
our hotel, which we booked based on it’s proximity to the train station.
We watched several episodes of Simpsons in French as we re-packed our
luggage and wrote postcards.
Paris, France: May 2nd, 2010
We
awoke early-ish (around 7:45 am, I forget for sure) as we hoped to go
to the Lourve first thing in the morning. After a filling breakfast at
the hotel, we headed out on foot, zig-zagging through the streets to the
museum. I had hoped that, as this day was a Sunday, and the day after a
national holiday, the Louvre wouldn’t be too busy. As it turned out, I
had hoped in vein. When we arrived at museum only a few minutes after
9:00 am, a sizeable crowd had already assembled. The line moved quickly,
although it wasn’t until we passed under one of the archways, which
opened up to the main courtyard (where the glass pyramids are), that we
realized how enormous the line was. Additionally, we discovered that the
entrance was free this day. So, we were able to get into the Louvre
without paying, but because of that there were probably twice the number
of people than normal, and we couldn’t get anywhere near La Joconde
(the Mona Lisa).
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| One of the courtyards of the Louvre, and first part of the line leading into the museum. |
We spent much of the day at the Lourve and even after
6 hours of wandering and admiring we probably only saw half of the
collection. I liked the Venus de Milo a great deal. She wasn’t as
heavily admired as La Joconde, so I was able to stand to one side and
see her clearly. Several of the other visitors to the Louvre took
pictures of themselves in front of paintings and statues. I found this
excessively strange and while I was standing near the Venus de Milo I
had a very strong urge to mess up people’s photos. I managed to contain
myself and not make faces or other such nonesense, but it was tempting
nonetheless.
Once we left the Lourve we decided to walk to the cathedral of Notre Dame. I actually enjoyed reading Victor Hugo’s novel,
The Hunchback of Notre Dame,
so I wanted to see inside the church, which I hadn’t had the chance to
the last time I was in Paris. It was raining when we left the Louvre so
we opted to grab a snack before heading all the way to the cathedral. By
luck we were in the café long enough for things to dry up and so the 30
minute walk was pleasant, warm even. Entrance to the cathedral was free
and so we happily wandered in. I was surprised to see that Notre Dame
has modernized itself. There are monitors mounted on the pillars for the
congregation members, the confession booths had been remodeled with
glass walls, and there were posters advertising the cathedral’s
charitable works. All of these things were absent from the churches we
saw in Italy and Germany.
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| The cathdral of Notre Dame, slightly off kilter. |
After we’d finished our tour of Notre Dame, we headed
out toward the Eiffel Tower, but stopped before we managed to leave the
church square to watch a couple of street artists paint “name
pictures.” In what was probably less than ten minutes, these artists
were able to spell out the names of their customers using the figures of
birds, fish, flowers and other scenes. We had our last name “Milne”
drawn as the artists only charged 5 euros. Once our painting was dry and
we were able to roll it up, we carried on our way. We opted to walk
along the river bank, which was quite pleasant; however, by the time
we’d reached the Tower, almost an hour later, it had begun to rain. The
lines for the elevator up the tower were 45-minutes long and by this
time it was almost 8:00 pm. I had hoped to go up as Andrew had not been
to the Tower before, but we hadn’t had a proper lunch and we had to get
up early the next day to get our train back to Germany.
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| The Eiffel Tower. |
We had some difficulty working out the local train
system in Paris, figuring out how much tickets were and which trains
would take us where, but we got it figured out and got back to the area
of Paris where our hotel was with surprising ease. The only thing left
to do was pick a restaurant for dinner. I had noticed two potential
restaurants the night before when we arrived in Paris, so we consulted
the menus posted outside and selected one where enjoyed a delightful
meal. It seems pre-ordering a three-course meal is common in France. You
pick your starter, entree and desert from the menu, and the evening
precedes with little interruption and much delicious food. I started
with french onion soup, followed it with duck comfit, and finished with
an apple tart.
The Trip Home: May 3rd, 2010
Finally,
and briefly, we caught a train from Paris to Mannheim. Our next train
was 10 minutes late, and packed, but when it finally arrived it
successfully took us from Mannheim on to the Frankfurt airport. We had
some confusion over where exactly to check in, but we managed it with
sufficient time to stop at the airport McDonalds for a meal, which
included veggie burgers, curly fries and beer. The plane was full, and
also somewhat late to take off. We had to hurry through Pearson to catch
our final connection from Toronto to Edmonton. Just before 10:00 pm we
staggered through our apartment door, gave our cat several pets and
nuzzles, then went to bed.
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| Andrew and I, on our last train, on our way back to Germany to catch our plane home. |
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| Enjoying our one an only McDonalds meal while in Europe. |
Ciao,
Andrea
