Mont Saint Michel, Normandy, France

Hunt for Calvados Continued

There are no commercial establishments whatsoever; only this strange boy curled up against a wall. I feel disappointed and wonder what to do next. I tried to appreciate the architecture but nothing stood out among these particular houses. They depressed me. For some reason, I felt pressured to turn right. I did and saw a truck go by up ahead and knew it was a main road.

Having Fun

When I got there I saw a store with its sign lit up, “Bar, restaurant, épicerie”. A convenience store! How convenient. It had everything. I walked in to find a man behind the counter and one patron sitting at the bar. I came right to the point, “Do you have Calvados?” “Yes,” said the man. Jackpot. He showed me two bottles: one for 22.50 Euros and the other for twice that. I chose the 5-year-old, he was cheaper. I asked to use the restroom, “toilette” I said. The red-faced customer sitting at the bar, and I mean beet red, gnarled, with a nose like a sponge said, “Down the lane.” “Down the lane?!” I gasped. “No, no”, the counter guy said and pointed to the in-house facilities. Just having a bit of fun with the American I guess.

Gone Fishin’

I walked to the back of the store, opened the door, and nearly fell into the urinal. I wondered if I had got the wrong one and frantically searched for signage. There was signage, on two doors right in the same room the urinal was in. There was a picture of a little girl and a little boy. I chose the girl.

Once inside the lights went out. That was alarming. Are they still getting their jollies? The lights came right back on. That was weird. But I had dropped my mitt in the toilet. I fished it out pretty damn quick though. You could say I was nervous.

I emerged from the facilities and asked the way to Mont Saint Michel. I knew I hadn’t quite got it right. The counter guy tried but finally gave up and turned to his red-faced, sponge-nosed guest who had just returned from a trip outside to use those facilities. Sponge Bob spoke pretty good English and set me off in the right direction. In fact, I’d say he was the best English speaker out of all the people I met over there.

This house with lavender-colored shutters stood right across the street from the convenience store.

This was the route I was supposed to take. You can see Mont Saint Michel in the distance. The water on the left is a canal ending with a dam. I said, “Bonjour” to everyone I passed and they all gave me a hearty “Bonjour!” in return. It was fun. There and back took me about 2 and a half hours. Instead of the windstorm that I fought against on my walk to Beauvoir, the return trip held nothing more than a salty zephyr. Maureen slept the whole afternoon, saying her knee was “jacked up”.

Two Lovely Specimens Having a Nice Stroll on the Causeway Coming Back from Mont Saint Michel

The Saint Pierre Parish Church on Mont Saint Michel

I returned from Beauvoir, got a tuna fish sandwich for dinner, and stopped by a very small church built in the 1400s. Joan of Arc stands beside the entrance. Archangel Michael guided her through The Hundred Years War.

I sat inside for a while and paid 2 Euros to light a candle for my mother. I asked Saint Michael to please protect us from illness and ruin and prayed that my mother and her sister rest in peace.

As I sat in the pew, a man walked in, paid 2 Euros, lit a candle, and left. He didn’t even linger to say a prayer. That’s rather business-like, I thought. Hardly spiritual. It seemed like a thing he just had to do and get it over with.