The 25th of April we were ported in La Rochelle, France. Today was the day I was meeting up with my brother, who had flown into Paris the day before and took the train into this small seaport. I got off early, after checking and double-checking that all the paperwork was in order and I was aware of the protocol to get him on the ship. I took the shuttle into the town center, stopping right outside the information center, our meeting point. I saw him through the glass, standing inside reading his book. Butterflies started fluttering and I rushed inside. The excitement that was pumping through me was the same as when I flew home from my first contract to see my family, after being away for those 7 long months.
He still hadn’t seen me so I snuck up behind him and said “Bonjour!!!” We were in France, after all. Sean turned as if to reply; “I don’t speak French”, thinking I was someone else. When he realized it was me, his face was so shocked and his crooked smile beamed bright. We hugged each other tight; caught up in joy and disbelief that here we both were, in Europe.
We spent the next few hours swapping stories of home, our travels, and our plans for the future. We were hardly aware of our surroundings because we were so focused on catching up. My brother is one of the only reasons I miss having my cell phone. There have been so many days I would just need to talk to him, but couldn’t. I made a promise to myself to think only happy thoughts while my brother was with me, to not think about the next year when he won’t be in the same country as me. It’s weird to think about going home, and he won’t be there, because he is so much my home. But, these next two weeks were about us spending time together in the present, not focusing on the future.
Eventually, we remembered that we were in a foreign place and we should do some exploring! We stopped at Tour Saint-Nicolas, the oldest tower in La Rochelle, and then headed into the old town. We grabbed delicious chocolate pastries, under the recommendation of Mel. The local delicacy was Blood Pudding, we weren’t eager to test that!
It was a short day in La Rochelle, because we wanted to get back to the ship and make sure he could get on smoothly and have enough time to settle in. He was even able to get a room! We ate some Ben & Jerry’s back on the ship, something Sean had dearly missed in Thailand. It was the perfect day, spending time with my brother, learning what he had been up to and talking about anything and everything. I’ve missed him so much.
The next day was Brest, France. Because we had a show that day, we had tech run in the morning and unfortunately, we didn’t dock in this port for very long. Sean, Jessica and I had just enough time to run off, eat, see the major highlights, and then head back to the ship.
Brest is a part of the Brittany region, meaning it is a mixture of French and Celtic culture. It is the home base for the French Naval Fleet. The first thing you see coming into Brest is the 15th century castle overlooking the harbor. The Romans, under the rule of Julius Ceaser, conquered the area and named it the “country of the seas.” The British inhabited it in the 4th century, giving the region its name and the Breton language, the Celtic language of Brittany, similar to Cornish.
Brittany suffered various attacks from the Vikings and Normans over the following centuries. During the 100 years War between Britain and France, Brittany was reunited with France. Brittany also suffered horribly during WWI, and Brest especially in WWII. The city was heavily damaged from allied bombing attacks as they attempted to destroy a Nazi submarine base in the harbor. It was rebuilt in the 1950’s. The castle is now a naval museum, preserving Brest’s maritime history, culture, and tradition.
We stopped to eat at a street of small restaurants. Picking up a pizza from one place, we walked two shops down to sit at another place and order desert crepes. The lady came out and absolutely refused to let us be there with the pizza. Even after I tried to explain that we were ordering from her too, (she got the menus for us too!) she said “you can not eat that pizza here, it is IMPOSIBLE!” (Imagine it with the French accent!!) I was tempted to tell her, “it’s actually not impossible, watch…” and just sit down and eat but I figured I shouldn’t joke with the French. So we sat at the first place and ate our delicious pizza, then walked right past the crepe restaurant and refused to stop and give them our money. We were quoting her for the rest of the day!!! LOL.
We walked through the city, in search for a crepe place to finish our day off in France properly. I found a carnival booth decorated with Disney characters, including Ariel! :D We wandered into another street of restaurants, and tried to sit down. The lady politely told us that they were only serving drinks now, no food. The kitchen was closed and it was 1 in the afternoon! So we went next door, and the man told us the same thing. My brother practically begged the man to just let us have crepes, and he gave in. We ordered our crepes and sat next to a group of fellow employees from the ship. Pedro found us, he had left the ship before us and had run around exploring the port. We got our crepes, though they weren’t as good as the ones I’ve had from the street vendors in Paris.
As we headed back towards the shuttle bus, Sean and I ran into a crazy man. We thought he had been hitchhiking because as we got closer to him, he was holding out his hand towards the street. But then he pointed at us and shoved his hand, like he was guiding us. He was talking to himself so we quickly got across the street, hoping he wouldn’t try to follow. He continued up to where we just were and started “directing traffic”, before yelling some stuff and heading off up the steps.
We had Rhythm and Rhyme that night. The first show went smoothly but the second show became an instant reblock. The hydrolics that we use had some technical issues at the end of the first show. They are high-pressure systems and because it was rocky that night, when the stage staff tried to bring them down, they collapsed and collided into each other, refusing to flatten down to the level of the stage. There wasn’t enough time for them to fix it between shows, so we had to adjust the show, which uses the entirety of the stage, to less than half of the stage. They kept the mylar and one of the curtains to hide the hydros. Wesley did a great job leading us and we all acted professionally, but it was pretty funny because it felt, and probably looked, like a school talent show. But hey, that’s live theatre! Anything can happen!
April 27th was St. Peter Port, the capital of Guernsey in the Channel Islands. We had to tender into the town and the only seats left were on top of the tender! The wind was freezing, so our group huddled together. As we cruised in, we passed the 13th century castle sitting on the edge of a cliff that jutted out above the sea. My brother and I discussed the stupidity of placing the castle at such a vulnerable location, wide open for an attack.
A lookout tower would have been more appropriate; they can then signal that the enemy is approaching to the castle, which should be tucked away into the town. But, they did things backwards, and as a result, the castle was constantly under siege for over 700 years and control over it continued to switch between countries. The French held it until the 100 years war, when England recaptured it. In the 20th century the German forces occupied the castle, re-fortifying it in the chaos of WWII.
Our group headed to tour the Castle Cornet. Inside, a royal arms guard marched and demonstrated a live canon blast. It was so loud; I jumped! There were several levels to the castle, and we walked the entire maze of it; from the prisoner quarters to the rooftop gun positions. The castle also housed a military museum, displaying various artillery equipment. There was a display with audio sounds of weapons, so you felt that you were actually in the midst of war. After the castle, we weaved our way into the city.
Everything was decorated in preparation for the Royal Wedding. Jessica knew a lot about the typical English cuisine since her family is from England and she’s been there several times. We made a stop in a bakery and I ordered a delicious cheese and onion pasty. Sean tried the traditional sausage rolls.
We stopped in a small restaurant and tried a slice of the Guersney Gâche, a fruit loaf. I didn’t really like it. We had read that the Channel Islands are known for their dairy products, especially their milk. It’s said to be the best in the world, so Sean and I had to try some. He got a glass of milk and though I enjoyed my rich and creamy chocolate milkshake, I wouldn’t say it’s the BEST I’ve ever had. I still hold my organic Horizon milk on a high pedestal.
The locals recommended a fabulous French ice cream shop that sold homemade ice cream. Sean and I had two scoops :D The funny thing about this place is that they have their own currency. They take the Queen’s pounds but their Guernsey pounds aren’t accepted anywhere else in the world but the island!
Normandy
Le Havre was our next port of call, and we decided we were going to drive out to Normandy to see the D-Day beaches. We were waiting for Holly and Pedro to finish working the rock wall, so Sean and I hopped on the shuttle bus and went to explore a bit of Le Havre. There was a lady from Greece who sat in front of us and she struck up a conversation. She asked where we were from and said that her son had lived in Texas, before dying in an accident. AWKWARD. Then she talked about how she had loved visiting Colorado but was never a fan of Texas. “There were a lot of blacks”, she whispered. SUPER AWKWARD. It was the type of conversation where all you can do is nod and sit in the uncomfortable silence.
We were dropped off in the city center. Apparently, it was too early for the French. Even though it was already 9, hardly anything was open! We wandered, trying to find internet. After stopping in a few cafes with no result, we popped into one restaurant with two teenagers and a puppy. The lady from the bus had just sat down too. We played with the cute black lab, but the puppy kept jumping up on the lady and scratching down her back. The teenagers didn’t budge, even though it was their responsibility to keep the dog in check. I couldn’t believe it! Firstly, that the dog was even allowed in the establishment, because it serves food and most people are put off by that combination. But more so because these kids had no reaction to their unruly dog. I know that even when I walk Ozzy around the pond, he needs to be on a leash in all the required areas and that he needs to act appropriately around other dogs or humans. Yet here I was, trying to scold a strangers’ dog for disobedience. I guess the French are relaxed on common courtesy, among other things.
Giving up on our futile attempt of finding internet, we took the shuttle back to the ship. Sean rented a car from the company in the port, and we met Holly and Pedro at the gangway. Renting the car was easily the cheapest way to get around, the taxi tours were absurdly overpriced and between the four of us, we each spent somewhere around $40 with gas and everything! Our car was so cute and tiny!
Omaha Beach was about an hour and a half drive away from the Le Havre port. Holly and I shared a bag of “crisps” (chips that were in the shape of French Fries, super addictive!) and we all chatted about various things. Sean drove because he was the only one with a proper license. It was his first time driving out of the states! Finally we made it to the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial.
The museum was filled pictures and artifacts to tell the cataclysmic story of June 6th, 1944, the day that changed the course of history forever. There was an eerie hallway that spoke the names of those lost to the battle, and the walls were covered with individual accounts of true heroes. I read about the courage of Elizabeth Richardson, a woman who died helping the American Red Cross. And about the Niland brothers, whom Saving Private Ryan was based around.
Holly and I watched the video that played, which described the terror these men faced as they fought for liberty. When I saw that they took on such a difficult mission, a certain suicide operation, it left me speechless. I can hardly watch violent movies; but these men were so brave to sacrifice everything to defend the world from the threat of the German forces. I saw the astonishing pictures of the coast guard who ran on the beaches amidst the hail of gunfire, and those who scaled the cliffs to disable the German guns. I tried so hard to conceive how they must have felt, but I know there is nothing in my life that will ever help me comprehend this depth of sheer terror.
After the museum, we walked out to the beach. Utah and Omaha beaches were the landing sites of US soldiers, the British on Gold and Sword beaches, and the Canadian troops on Juno beach. As we walked down the steep slopes, we tried to imagine being the soldiers and tirelessly hurtling towards the German attackers at the top of the hill. The death toll was fewer than had been envisaged on the other beaches and the operations there were considered a success. But the soldiers struggled on Omaha, and I believe it’s because they were at such a topographical disadvantage. The Germans could see the American forces from the safety of the hills and cliffs. It took vast numbers of audacious men and their unyielding determination to finally break through the enemy defenses, eventually leading to the retreat of the German forces.
Having the opportunity to walk on the beach was such an anomalous experience. The area is so beautiful; it was hard to accept that only 67 years ago it had been tainted with the hellacious setting of war. There were people further down the beach enjoying the day, playing water sports and spending time with their family and friends. Yet this exact beach, the one I was standing on, was once strewn with thousands of valiant soldiers, gallant til their last dying breath.
Above the beach, we found the remains of bunkers and gun positions. I sat in a hole dug into the earth and tried to visualize that day. There were several monuments commemorating the efforts of the courageous battalions. We walked the path to the other side of the memorial, where the cemetery was. It was here they filmed the scene of the thousands of white crosses in Saving Private Ryan. As we weaved our way among the graves, it became overwhelming to realize how many there were. I stood in one spot and looked out at the sea of white crosses; it’s just unfathomable. I had read that 93,000 Americans were killed in WWII. At this memorial alone, there were 9,387 headstones and 1,557 names inscribed into the annular wall of the missing. There were Star of David headstones too, not just the Latin cross. Three Medal of Honor recipients were buried here. We found the gravestones of Preston and Robert Niland, respectfully placed beside each other. I overheard a guide telling his group that the Roosevelt family had extracted their son that died in World War I and brought him to lay with his brother, a victim of World War II. Only the Roosevelts, with their power and influence, have been allowed to take a grave from the original military burial site.
Two statues representing France and the United States stood at the west end of the cemetery. In the middle, there was a chapel with a mosaic ceiling depicting America blessing her sons as they depart by sea and aid, and a grateful France bestowing a laurel wreath upon the American dead. The trip to Normandy was inexplicable. I’m so glad I was able to learn about this imperative day that marks the start of the new world. I have a newfound appreciation because I was able to, in a very mild sense, live the experience myself. It wasn’t like when I learned about the war in my seat in high school. I walked the beaches the soldiers walked, I saw the trenches and I can now grasp the entirety of the situation. I hope to have more opportunities to visit other historical sites and throw myself into the authentic setting.
My brother drove us back and we grabbed some food at a grocery mart, similar to Whole Foods. I had two Nutella crepes and a coffee éclair, to end the day in true French spirits. Although visiting the memorial and the cemetery made me solemn and a bit somber, it was created in a way to honor those that had fought and died, and to inspire a change in the world. I felt it spoke a message of love, that it’s purpose is to promote peace and unity, so that those who lost their lives, would not have done so in vain.
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