Au Revoir Paris, Bonjour Normandy

“So, what was your favorite thing?”  That’s the question my family hears from dear old dad as every activity draws to a close.  I’m genuinely curious to learn about the one thing that stood out or meant the most to my wife and children as we prepare to leave areas that we’ve enjoyed and studied, and my hope is that the kids will have a special focused memory about each one.  Paris is an old city, but it still seems fresh and vibrant with lively, artistic flavor still prevalent in the streets.  The history is certainly there for the taking, but Paris moves forward with the winding of the Seine, the hard edges of the years softened by a desire to enjoy life in the midst of a troubled world.  The people of Paris live in a cool place, and they know it.  Our favorites:  Notre Dame will always have my heart with its gargoyles, flying buttresses, and historical bear hug; the art and architecture contained by the Musee d’Orsay captivated Deena the most; Joseph said he would never forget ascending the metro stairs to La Place de Concorde on our first day and taking in the city for the first time; Deveny loved la Tour Eiffel, and she was in her element as we enjoyed our last night in Paris together on the grounds of this Parisian icon.

La Tour Eiffel in Daylight

La Tour Eiffel at Night

We spent two hours lost in the panorama of the City of Light from the second floor of the Eiffel Tower thanks to the blessing of a gift from our dear friends, Brent, Wilkie, Emily, and Grant.  Our elevator ride was scheduled for 9:30 PM, but we arrived a couple of hours early while there was enough light to sit in the surrounding park and view the tower as the sun set.  Couples and groups of young people were picnicking on the grounds, their blankets serving as small cafes complete with baguettes, cheeses, and bottles of wine.  We found the spot designated to meet our tour group and sat in the grass for an hour and watched as the tower came alive with interior lighting.  The area surrounding the tower is blocked by metal barricades, and entry can only be gained through a security checkpoint.  All around the perimeter of the barricade, the swell of tourists grew with the setting of the sun.  Street vendors hawked Eiffel Tower key rings under electronic signs that flashed warnings about buying from street vendors; and neon tracers followed bicycle taxis as they carried passengers drinking champagne.  At the top of every hour after sunset, there is a light show, and we sat eagerly watching as 9:00 approached, not knowing what to expect.  We all shouted with delight as the hour came and the tower came alive with darting pinpoints of light that looked like an assault from thousands of fluorescent fireflies.  We sat transfixed for the duration of the show wishing it would continue all night.  

When we found our tour group, the guide gave us a concise history of the Eiffel Tower—I was interested to learn that it gets repainted every seven years, and it takes fifteen months to complete the job.  Two security checkpoints later, we boarded the elevator and ascended to the second floor where we had plenty of time to walk around and enjoy the commanding view of Paris at night.  We had difficulty processing the fact that we were on the Eiffel Tower.  The whole time seemed like a wind-swept dream as we walked the platform taking pictures and trying to pick out landmarks in the distance.  The light from boats marked the Seine, and we could see the towers of Notre Dame and the dome of Sacre Couer.  We had spent most of the day resting in our apartment knowing that we would be out late on our last night in Paris, and we were thankful for our energy reserve as we were completely absorbed in our experience on the tower—we had an amazing time.  After we descended, we walked toward the Trocadero Plaza, and turned around to view one last light show before leaving.  The plaza was full of people watching the tower, and there was a group of couples doing the tango to music punching through loudspeakers.  We sat silently during the long metro ride back to our Bercy neighborhood, each person lost in thoughts of Paris at night, and Deveny was remembering her favorite thing.

On the Tower

We were up early the next morning and solemnly began our packing ritual knowing our time in Paris was drawing to a close.  Deena and Deveny walked down the street to the corner bakery to get breakfast while Joseph and I pressed on with the packing.  He had stayed up most of the night to watch the Carolina Panthers game through some form of media setup devised with his buddy, Grant.  Although sad that the Panthers lost, he somehow summoned the motivation to pack.  The girls returned with all kinds of pastries, including apple tarts, eclairs, and chocolate croissants that once bitten, melted into buttery bliss.  We drank or last cups of coffee and tea, collected our bags, took one last look around, walked into the hall, and sadly closed the door to our wonderful Parisian apartment. 

Our Parisian Apartment

Surrounded by our belongings, we took one long, last metro ride to the bus station where we waited to board a coach to Normandy.  A pack of heavily armed security officers paced back and forth through the platforms occasionally asking travelers for their documents, and they pushed one guy against a wall and gave him a good frisking.  The whole scene was creepy, but we got used to seeing things like this around the city because heavily-armed security prowled every crowded plaza and tourist destination.  We discussed how sad it is that the lively City of Light always has a backdrop of tension and fear due to past and predicted terrorist attacks.  I confess that I breathed a sigh of relief as we left a few areas, and it’s obvious that armed security can do nothing to prevent attacks, but they try to keep casualties to a minimum once they occur.  I pray that the plans of these terrorists are foiled at every turn.

Deena told me that the three hour drive to Caen in Normandy was full of beautiful scenery, but we missed it all due to the deep sleep that enveloped us as we traveled in the comfort of the roomy coach.  We arrived in Caen around 2:00 PM, and the realization that I had to drive again in a foreign country slapped me in the face.  At least the French drive on the correct side of the road, and I steeled myself for the challenge.  We walked a few blocks to the Hertz office where our agent was efficient and friendly, and before long we were headed out into the streets with our peppy little Citroen—another car with a straight drive transmission, but manufactured with the steering wheel and the gear shift in the right place.   

The roads were well marked, and we easily found our way out of town headed to the village of Courseulles Sur Mer located in Juno Beach, the area where the Canadian forces landed on D-Day.  We stopped at McDonalds on the way for a late lunch, and I was amused to order a Royale with Cheese, an act in which a few readers may find humor as well.  We had booked a small condo on the beach through AirBnB, and we pulled up to the building and waited on the guy to show up with the key for over an hour.  He was cheerful, though, and gave us a quick tour of the place.  Through our terrible French and his terrible English, we were able to determine that our place had everything we needed except wifi, sheets, towels, toilet paper, paper towels, soap, dish towels, coffee, and most importantly, a cork screw—sacre bleu!  He finished with a cheerful, “Ees pairfect, no?”  No.  Fortunately, we had packed down sleeping bags and micro-fiber towels, and we now made pillow cases out of t-shirts.  The other things were remedied with a quick trip to the local market, and we found free wifi down by the beach provided by the town.  So, we had pizza for dinner and settled into our new headquarters by the sea and prepared ourselves for one of the most important history lessons of our entire trip, ees pairfect, no?

Sunset over Courseulles Sur Mer, Normandy