Normandy

The remainder of our 2025 European visit was to the beautiful and heroic rolling hills and sacred shores of Normandy. Yet, the story about HOW we sojourned in this land must start with a sunken realization in Prague, two weeks earlier. My goodness!  I forgot my international driver’s license at home.  I even forgot where I put it at home, asking Alex to try to find it and have it expressed over to Lithuania but then giving him no successful leads as to where I had left it. (That was resolved upon my return when I guessed correctly where it was stowed.)

So, the planned rental car pick-up at De Gaulle airport needed cancelation, as did the beautiful rental home in the country outside of Bayeux.  With Jean’s French-speaking aid, we secured train tickets from the airport to Normandy and back again, got last minute (crummy) accommodations, and used public transportation and our own foot power to get to the sights we sought.  Does all that sound like we’re complaining?  Well, Jean had been in Europe for close to a month and we both needed to marshal our energies to gain value from this last leg of the trip.

Our first train ride took us to the city of Caen. After checking into our Ibis by the train station, we walked up to the historical area.  I dined on fish and cheese casserole, Jean had port and sausage with tomato sauce, we imbibed our first glasses of Normandy cider (there would be more such imbibing in the next couple of days), and we stared at the street scene by the Chateau de Caen. 

The Chateau de Caen – It’s a thousand year old castle constructed in William the Conqueror’s era (before being labeled the Conqueror, his nom de guerre was William the Bastard.

I’ve always thought of the word “chateau” as either a sweet little home or part of a proper name. The Chateau This, or the Chateau That.  But in Caen, the chateau was THE Chateau.  Built around 1060 by William the Conqueror – well HE didn’t build it. his subjects/minions did that trick – it is an enormous castle structure, with supplemental buildings within the larger chateau campus grounds.  

We went to the Tourist office where we signed up for a tour that included Omaha Beach and the American Cemetery. We also tried to find a hotel for the third night in Caen, as every place we looked at had been booked up.   We finally found a hotel to stay at near the Chateau, which ended up being the worst night of the trip!  Loud street music, all hours of the night and early morning.  The biggest downside of my misplaced international driver’s license.

The following day we took a city bus up to the WWII memorial museum, spent time exploring the exhibitory, and had a brief cafeteria-style lunch. Our tour began at the museum grounds and was led by a lovely and earnest young woman. We were joined only by one other family of three from Indiana.

At the WWII Museum in Caen.

On the approximately one-hour drive to the D-Day invasion sites, our guide started with her explanations of the reasons for WWII. We were able to engage in dialog on this and emerging topics in the van.  Upon arrival at the coast, we visited a German bunker site first, then on to Omaha Beach. Then we were driven to the American Cemetery.

Nazi bunker site, with extended views toward the west.

Our guide, explaining the significance of the site and the process of invasion.

Overlooking Omaha Beach.

The entire European trip for me was an exploration of heritages. Mine. Jean’s. My Jewish People’s. And here in Normandy’s beaches and cemeteries, my American heritage.

At the American Cemetery, I had a personal connection.  The gravesite of a father of a friend back home, was one of the thousands whose death was memorialized at that cemetery. My friend, Cleve, was born as his father, with the same name, was being shipped overseas for military service. They were never to meet in person. So, it was important for me to bring back to Cleve written materials that the cemetery provides to family members and friends of the fallen, and to bear witness to the sacrifices that were made in the fight against the Nazis.

Upon receipt of the written materials, a cemetery staff person drove us out in a little electric buggy to Cleve’s dad’s grave. He brought sand from the beach and rubbed it against the marble cross which extenuated the labeling.

Thousands of grave markers. If the deceased religion was Christian or unknown, they were given a cross marker.

If the deceased was Jewish, they got a Star of David. There were a handful of these at the cemetery. To our host’s knowledge, there are no Muslim Crescents nor symbols from other religions.

My friend’s grave site. The driver brought sand from Omaha Beach and spread it across the etch description in order to see the images more clearly. He also brought two flags, of France and the US, to mark and honor the fallen soldier.

The cemetery’s memorial grounds.

From there we drove back to the memorial museum. Then Jean and I took the bus back downtown. We had galettes at a lovely outdoor restaurant.  Our table neighbors were from Manchester, England, and we both realized that we were going to Bayeux to see the Tapestry Museum the next day.  But they were going later.

The next morning, we took the train to Bayeux.  The Tapestry Museum featured a work that was done, most likely, soon after William the Conqueror did his thing in 1066. It told the story, in pictures, of the Norman Invasion. We learned much about the history of the period and the history of the preservation of the extraordinary tapestry over a millennium.  As it turned out, the tapestry museum would close within two weeks for renovation, and the tapestry temporarily brought to England for display. (Really wonderful article about transfer here: https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/c14ev1z6d5go . Also important discussion about the number and purposes of Tapestry penises!) So, we were fortunate to view it in Bayeux.

A Bayeux street scene on market day.

At the Tapestry Museum, there are interpretive signs. Note, it says not to take photography, but that isn’t in this location! It’s at the tapestry itself.

Bayeux church. And this isn’t even the cathedral!

We took a walk in a nature park between the train station and Bayeux central city. The Cathedral is in the background.

Throughout our trip, we have seen magnificent medieval churches in virtually every town and city… dotting the countryside with splendor. Bayeux was no exception. After a lovely lunch of fish and rice in cream sauce (Jean had spaghetti), we visited a spectacular cathedral, lazed around for a while in town, then headed back to the train station for our return trip and last night in Caen.

And now for something completely different. Random thoughts on the way to and from Giverny and our travel back home.

1. It is a thrill for me and a joy for her, as Jean converses easily with French-speaking natives.
2. Looking out the train windows, I’m seeing brown cows huddling up together, basking in the sun.
3. European transportation systems: Buses to light rail to intercity rail to airports…planned and frequent and convenient. Beautiful modern light rail in Caen.
4. An early morning walk in Giverny. Unpeopled streets on a warm early morning stroll in a tiny village – the opposite of our Prague experience.
5. The Monet Garden was as tranquil as possible on the last afternoon with couples enjoying its beauty. Pictures taken, kisses earned and welcomed.
6. The check-out girl at the Monet Garden gift shop, when asked about her job after a long day, exclaimed with a sigh how some people can be so rude.  But then after a few pleasant words between us, she said, “but not you!”
7. The taxi ride to Giverny from the train station was from a diffident taxi driver. The draw for tourists to Giverny was beauty and tranquility. For the folks needing to make a living… not so much.
8. The place we stayed in the village was run by a Shanghai-born and raised couple.  Lovely people. She ended up driving us back to the train since we could find no other means.
9. Back to the juxtaposition as a place of tranquility. When we were in Giverny, Israel was at war with Iran and Jean watched Jon Stewart talk with Christiane Amanpour and Ben Rhodes about the horrors of war and historic blunders of US and Israel political leadership. That same day, we ran into two 30-something Israeli women in town.  They are stuck, not able to return home during the war.  Making the best of it with Monet, but…
10. The next early morning, the Giverny streets are cool and empty, but the forecast is for 95 degrees in the afternoon.  By that time, we would be at the airport waiting for our flight to take us home.

I have no consummating words for this intense European trip. I am writing this blog entry nearly three weeks after returning home. Clearly, the Holocaust-related sites have thrown me deeply. Processing those horrors, along with the sweet memories of Jean’s familial connections, along with the beauty of the architecture and other extraordinary human creations, along with current political events, and along with all the daily responsibilities of my life has me feeling a bit spent.  A bit confused.

But I guess that’s not only to be expected but also understood. Afterall, along with Jean, we planned for this mélange of experiences (who said I can’t speak French!). And we certainly got that in her four-plus weeks in Europe and my two-plus weeks.