On our honeymoon we booked a day tour of Mont St Michel, the iconic abbey on a tiny island on the coast of Normandy. Today we sought to share the experience with Alex by making our own way to the island.
The hotel breakfast was the most extensive so far, with hot items, crepes, pastries and the usual cold cuts. Perhaps it is fortunate that we eat too much in light of what is to come.
Transport to Mont St Michel is sparse in the cooler season, so I have pre-booked bus tickets. We hurry to the double decker bus, sitting down the bottom in fear of motion sickness. The other two face forward, I to the rear. Big mistake.
The route has more roundabouts than Canberra. I look down to my phone to book abbey tickets and am rendered nauseous. No choice but to look out.
Fortunately it is pretty scenery once we are out of Rennes. As we get closer to the coast it becomes even better, with Tony historic villages with whole streets of stone houses.
A variety of animals populate the farms along the way. Horned cattle, sheep, horses and even donkeys.
Nice ass!
The bus pulls up at the Mont St Michel information centre on the mainland a long 35 minute walk to the island, first through flat farmland, then across the causeway, all accompanied by spectacular views of the island abbey.
Each side of the causeway are the grey mud flats. The bay has the highest tides in Europe and, on rare occasions, the causeway itself can be submerged.
Once you have made it to the island after that long walk (there is a shuttle bus), the next challenge is climbing those stairs. Half-wooden shops, restaurants and museums line the narrow path. I want to stop for the famous souffle omelette, but we have timed tickets to the abbey.
Up the steep steps to the abbey entrance, a bag check (one French couple ahead of us have a sharp knife to slice their bread and cheese!) and collect the tablet we hired.
25 years ago we had a guide, so we think that Alex might benefit from some description of the areas we pass through.
The Mont St Michel abbey has served many purposes since the Bishop of Avranches supposedly had a vision from the Archangel St Michael in 708 to build an abbey on the highly defensible site. Surviving invasions and wars, it was later used as a prison by the Ancient Regime and its successors..
The abbey has been added to and extended over the years, showcasing an evolution in architectural styles, including gothic and neo-gothic arches and spires. The tablet provides augmented reality displays to show that previous incarnations of the interior possessed a lot more colour than the bare stone of today.
Regardless, the abbey is full of astoundingly impressive structures and wonderful views of the surrounding bay and saltbush flats. My favourite area though is the small cloisters section, imagining the monks sitting and reflecting in peace.
I have to admit that it sounds kind of tempting right now.
We walk down via the battlements which protected the abbey along with the quicksand and tidal waters between the island and the mainland.
Our options for returning to Rennes are to wait until the 4.45pm bus or catch a 12.55 bus and train. We opt for the latter, leaving us no time to eat lunch at Mont St Michel. No souffle egg like we had last time, no fruits of the sea. Yes it’s touristy here, but it is atmospheric.
I suggest that maybe we can go to eat seafood at St Malo after we return. We should have a few minutes to change trains.
So we catch the bus to Pontorson, the closest train station to Mont St Michel. A large group of Japanese tourists join us, carrying huge suitcases.
When we arrive at the station we are greeted with the disappointing news that our train has been delayed by at least half an hour.
Then it turns into an hour.
An hour and a half.
Two hours. Two and a half.
There is barely anything open in Pontorson, no other transport options even to get back to the island. Eventually we decide to go for a walk around the town and see if there is anything available. We’ve had no lunch. We’re hungry.
There is one restaurant, but it closes at 2 pm. But we spot a French-Polish trio from the train station entering. We ask at the door and “only pizza is available now”.
Only pizza? Okay, it’s not the local seafood and saltbush lamb we were dreaming of, but pizza is fine!
It is more than fine. The smoked salmon and pesto pizza and Alex’s prosciutto and cheese pizza is possibly the best we’ve ever had. Suddenly everything isn’t so bad after all.
The train arrives, later still, but empty enough for us all to get seats. It runs fast too, over 140 km/h, not bad for a regional train!
By the time we reach Rennes all we want to do is go back to the hotel. The restaurants of here and St Malo do not open for food service until 6.30pm.or later and we don’t want to be stranded in St Malo with no way back.
So we go back to the hotel and re-emerge after 7.30 pm to have dinner at the Terminus, opposite the station. Our friendly young waiter spent a couple of years in Australia on a backpacker visa. B orders Cancale oysters, Alex tries and dislikes French onion soup. B has to get her medium rare steak cooked a bit more, but I really enjoy my local skate with salicorne and croutons.
When we return to the hotel Alex complains that he is tired of trains and all the delays and just wants to stay in one place for a bit, sleep in and eat some Asian food. The time wasted with these constant train delays has made things difficult. Hopefully the next part of the trip will be smoother for us all.