Hmm, where to start...

So when I was in 8th grade, my mom and I decided that it in order to accelerate my education, and to free up my schedule to take geometry and algebra the same year, I should skip out of Home Economics and Keyboarding. Now, after years of learning to type the old fashioned way (and a fair amount of IMing) I can now type sufficiently well, and am currently using a French keyboard to type in the American system. So the keys in front of me no longer line up with what shows up on the screen, making the task of posting quite challenging. So if there are typos throughout this post, blame that Keyboarding class I never took.

On Saturday, I left Paris for Bayeux, a city that I loved for its medieval buildings, friendly locals, and small town feel. I saw the cathedral, where the Bayeux Tapestry originally hung, as well as the Tapestry itself. For art and history lovers, that tapestry was a goldmine. Not only is it a piece of linen that has survived almost 1000 years (just imagine!!) but it also is a wonderful artistic accomplishment and rich in historical detail. I couldn't get over its age, and its clear and concise storytelling. I think I could have figured out the tale even without a really awesome audioguide. I viewed it once with the audioguide, and again without, and both times it was incredible. A trip to Bayeux is worth it just for that.

On Sunday, I made the trip to Caen to the World War II Memorial Museum, from which I took a tour of the D-Day beaches. While I have to say the public transportation system worked against me very well that day (and surprisingly I could not find any English-speaking people to help me), and the weather was the absolute worst (cold, windy, and raining) I managed to have a great day. At the Pont du Hoc, at the end of the exhausting day, I stood at the edge of the cliff and looked up the coastline to the beaches of Juno and Gold, and could not help but to picture the events of that day. I could see the beach littered with small black dots, slowly crawling towards the cliffs, and the sea overcrowded with ships and makeshift pontoons in an ever encroaching approach to the beach. Overhead, I could hear the roar of planes and bombers, and an incessant echo of shells and gunfire. The very soil of that wide area is permeated with history, so much so that you can feel it by just walking past the abandoned bunkers and pill boxes (some of them still housing the original guns). It was wonderful, regardless of the weather.

My time to be online has run out, so I shall save the most recent adventures for another time...