Yellow

Daffodils and forsythia are brightening up the yard right now.

Spring gets closer every day. It's nice to have longer days, warmer days, sunnier days. Although until this past weekend, sunnier days were few and far between. We had a very rainy February and first week of March.

But now we have a stretch of sunshine and the yard is loving it and it's lifting spirits all around.

There are other colors, of course, but the yellow is so vibrant right now and looks great in the sunlight. We can't wait for shorts-and-tee-shirt weather, but that's still quite a way off.

I have a couple more posts stacked up for the Mont-Saint-Michel later in the week. We certainly are hoping to be able to be outdoors a bit more in the coming weeks. The sun's out now, but the ground is so wet that you can't really walk on it. Squish, squish.

Patterns On The Mont

The light is very interesting at the Mont-Saint-Michel. Sometimes it can be sunny, but down in the village's narrow street, not much gets through. It's often cloudy or foggy, and that diffused light makes for good picture taking.

Here's Ken (above) peering over a wall about halfway up the Mont. I wanted this shot because he was the only one in it. It was late in the day and people had begun leaving, and we felt like we had the place to ourselves. Normally, this walkway is filled with people coming and going from and to the abbey.

I think this is slate (above). It's not the dark polished ardoise that covers the rooftops in Paris, but a rougher hewn variety that is allowed to weather and be covered with lichens and mosses. Below is the roof cap made from terre cuite, also covered with lichens and mosses.

Down below you can see three siding materials side-by-side. On the left are wooden shingles; we saw these also used as roofing shingles. In the center are slate shingles. Again, these are used for both siding and roofing on the Mont. On the right is a basic stone wall.

It's In The Details

The Mont-Saint-Michel is all about views. Seeing the Mont from a distance in varying types of light and weather, seeing the expanse of mud flats around the Mont and the tracks of the receding tide waters.

But there are also smaller, less obvious views to be had, like these :

A door knocker.

The entrance to somewhere private.

The remains of a former restaurant.

An interesting doorknob.

Directions to this boutique's workshop on the mainland, where they also sell stuff.

Room With A View

The tricolore flies proudly at the entrance to the Mont-Saint-Michel. It also lets you know that a good stiff wind is blowing.

On arriving at the Mont-Saint-Michel, the first thing you do is pay to enter the parking lot. That's the first hint that your visit will be a Disney-esque experience. The lady at the kiosk explained that once we checked into our hotel, we'd be given a special key that opens the gate to the hotel parking lot on the causeway. Until then we were to park in lot #1, closest to the Mont.

The window of our hotel room is the second one from the bottom in this photo.

Ken had found us a good room on the Mont-Saint-Michel, and it was a great deal. Fifty euros for the night in a newly remodeled, quite comfortable room that overlooked the main street of town. It was small, but for just one night it was great.

The street below our room, looking north and uphill. This is the town's main street; there are no cars in town.

To get to the room, we had to walk up the street a bit, then up some stone stairs about 3 flights up into a back street. We went through a door, then down two flights to our room. And with all that up and down, we were still one floor above street level.

The main street again, looking south, downhill.

There was a sliver of a view out over the bay toward the east with the mainland in the distance. That's where I saw the tide come in the next morning. It was a very quiet night, with rain tapping on the slate roofs around us.

The view from our room, looking east toward Normandy and the près salés where sheep are grazed.

This is the flag of Normandy flying at the entrance to le Mont-Saint-Michel.

Le Mont-Saint-Michel

Monday was Ken's birthday and we went to the Mont-Saint-Michel to eat seafood and spend the night on the Mont to celebrate. We will both be posting our photos on our respective blogs over the next few days, and I hope we won't be too repetitive.

A Google Earth screen capture of the Mont-Saint-Michel at low tide.

I'm going to start with contrasts. In other words, the difference between the low and high tides that we saw while we were there. When the tide is out, the Mont is surrounded by vast mud flats. When there's a high tide the Mont becomes an island, except of course for the artificial causeway that connects it to the mainland.

A sunny day at the Mont-Saint-Michel seen from the causeway. Notice that it's low tide; you can see tour buses parked near the base of the Mont.

We arrived mid-day on Monday in very nice weather. It was relatively warm and relatively clear. In Normandy, that means a lot. It was also low tide. The signs we saw said that all cars needed to be moved off the lower lots up onto the causeway by 7:00 pm that evening due to the expected high tide, and again by 7:00 am on Tuesday morning for the same reason. All cars park on the east side of the causeway. Tour buses park in a smaller lot on the west side where the river flows into the bay.

High tide, and the bus lot is under water.

Once we checked into our hotel, we were able to put the car in the hotel lot up on the causeway, so that was done. We walked around quite a bit, retracing our steps at several points. We did not pay to go into the abbey itself, since we had just done that last June. It was interesting to notice how the place emptied as the evening came on. We felt kind of special, staying "after hours" on the island. It seemed empty, although there were still plenty of people.

At seven that evening, there was no sign of the tide coming in yet, but the town's public address system blasted warnings in at least five languages for people to move their cars out of the lower lots and up onto the causeway.

The caserne at low tide.

After dinner (I'm guessing around 10 pm), Ken and I climbed up on the ramparts and noticed that, indeed, the tide had come in, but it looked to us (in the dark) like the parking lots were not really flooded. Still, the water was right at the edge of the lots where only mud was earlier in the day. We found a restaurant that was still open and went in for after dinner drinks. We sat next to the fireplace and I sipped a calvados while Ken had an armagnac.

The caserne at high tide. The water covers the bus lot. There's a small boardwalk along the base of the Mont just above water level that you have to use to get in and out of the town gate.

It rained overnight - we had the window in our room open for part of the night just to listen to the rain fall on the slate roofs - and the morning was dark and stormy. I looked out the window at about 7:30 and actually saw the tide moving in over the sand, filling in the bay in a matter of minutes.

Ramparts on the southeast side at low tide.

When we checked out and got to our car, the parking lots on both sides of the causeway were indeed under water and, even though it was pouring rain, I got the camera out and snapped a few quick photos.

The southeast side ramparts and lower parking lot at high tide.

Word Of The Week

far

Another food-related word this week. Watch your calories !

The Mont-Saint-Michel sits just off the coast very near the border between Normandy and Brittany. As the story goes, the Couesnon river slides along the west side of the island putting the Mont officially in Normandy.

That doesn't stop one from enjoying the products of both regions while you're there. Fine Norman calvados (apple brandy) can be served up after a hearty meal of Breton galettes de sarrasin (buckwheat crêpes). One specialty of Brittany is the far breton, a kind of flan with prunes baked into it.

According to the Petit Robert, far comes from the breton and old French fars, which derives from the latin farsus, itself the past participle of farcire, meaning to fill or to stuff.

So un far breton is a Brittany flan stuffed with prunes. It's also very tasty...

Image from : frenchentree.com/france-brittany-restaurants-shops

I'll Solve, Pat !

Kitchen Collection took the day off. It'll be back next week !