Mont Saint-Michel

I think I have always wanted to visit Mont Saint-Michel. But I'm not sure why or how I even know about it. Maybe I had seen a movie filmed there? (I thought it might have been Twelfth Night, but it doesn't seem to be.) Or maybe my brother had been there? There's a St. Michael's Mount in Cornwall too, which adds to the confusion, but—at any rate—I've been dreaming about going to Mont Saint-Michel for years now.

The trouble was, I was afraid it was too far from Paris. I read that we could ride the TGV (which Sebastian had always been dying to do anyway—especially since Malachi got to ride the ICE!) instead of taking a lengthy coach tour, but then it looked like we'd have to catch a bus or another regional train and that sounded like more complication than I dared attempt with a baby. Finally when I was ready to give up on it, I found this little tour company that would pick us up from the train station and drive us around in a minivan! That didn't sound too daunting, so I signed us up. And I was excited that the tour included two other towns in Bretagne that I hadn't heard of, but that looked really cool when I looked them up: Dinan and St. Malo. (The post about those towns is here.)

We drove toward Mont Saint-Michel on the back roads, and it was so peaceful and serene, I couldn't believe it when our guide told us that this was the third biggest tourist attraction in France, after the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre. 

It was a greyish and misty day. In the morning it had even been snowy, quite rare for this part of France, and when we got out of the shuttle bus that drives you across the bridge (private cars can't drive across), it was SO COLD. I think it might be the coldest I have EVER BEEN. I guess I should qualify that because I have been colder when I have to stay out in the cold for a long time (like in Moscow) or when I've been cold and wet…and this was better, because as soon as we were off the bridge and on the island itself, the wind wasn't so bitter, and the buildings blocked the cold air. But for those few minutes as we walked, I thought I might freeze into a big block of ice and they'd have to break Ziggy off of me with a pick-ax.

There used to be a causeway out the island and you could only cross at low tide. But now they've built a bridge (and a dam, which is somehow filtering out silt so it won't accumulate on the island and make it sink...our guide explained it to us but I'm not sure I grasped the details. Although Seb seemed to get everything she was saying, so I can't blame her English!). It's nice not to have to plan your visit around the tides! Although I would have liked to stay overnight in the area so I could watch the water go in and out. (I find myself very fascinated with tides since staying at this house, and the Bay of Mont Saint-Michel is an especially spectacular place to see them!)

There's only one street on Mont Saint-Michel, which is lined with little shops and paved with cobblestones, and which winds up to the Abbey at the top of the Mont. (Please note Sebastian's head in this picture. Usually Sam plays the role of Encroaching Head in my photographs, but since Sam was manning the camera this time, Seb rose to the occasion.) It was the off-season, so not everything was open, but that street wasn't really the cool part of the Mont anyway.

Although—we did like the places where you could climb up to the encircling stone walls, and look down into the little backyards/courtyards like this one. There are something like 44 people that live on Mont Saint-Michel itself, and I couldn't stop thinking about what that would be like!

But we thought the prettiest approach was the back road that led up past the walls and into the Abbey.

The Abbey is the most amazing part of Mont Saint-Michel. It is huge and imposing, and it looks like it is growing out of the rocks of the island itself. We couldn't get over how organically it emerged above the crags and stone walls. There were even buttresses on the rock in some places! How could they build this place??

When you reach the bottom of the Abbey you've already climbed a substantial hill, but then there is a succession of further archways and steps to reach the entrance. 

The stone walls looming up on all sides are massive and ominous. Walking through those mossy archways feels like going back through time.

From the top you can look out at the bay. On the day we were there, everything was pale and frozen-looking. It reminded me so much of this view of Lake Ontario in Toronto, with the different channels and currents running across each other! But there wasn't actually any ice.

The sun did emerge every now and then, and everything changed color when it did.

There are still monks and nuns that live in this Abbey! Wouldn't that be so great? It had me considering the merits of the celibate life for a few minutes…ha ha. Do you think they accept nuns with eight children? Anyway, my favorite part of the Abbey was this cloistered courtyard. (There was some debate, among the three of us, about which part, exactly, was the "cloisters." I think we eventually agreed that that was the name of the covered corridor lined with columns, and the inner yard was something else.) It felt so secluded and ancient. But then you walked around to one side to peer out through the columns and there was THIS VIEW. Amazing.

I just couldn't get a picture that captures the dim, peaceful, secret feeling of the place. But these last two come closest.

Inside there were all sorts of dark stairways, and columned dining halls, and a lovely chapel—everything massive and made of cool stone. Even the stained glass seemed pale and remote.

If you give Sam the camera, you will end up with many pictures like this one. He likes the small details. Moss. Cracks. Texture.

Outside there was a beautiful little garden. I don't how they managed to eke this green spot out of the forbidding rock!

More views of the bay, coming down from the Abbey. Must be low tide!

The town street

And then looking up at the Abbey over the jumble of piled-up houses. It felt almost spooky and Gothic, but at the same time Medieval—it was like nowhere else we've been!

What an amazing place. I would really love to return…in the summer…and stay somewhere where I could watch the tides come in and the sun set behind the Mont. But, even failing that, we will always remember this wonderful, freezing winter visit!