Today, Erin, Brittany, Marshall, Noe, Nate, and Cameron all ventured off to the American Cemetery up at Omaha Beach in Normandy. After our Amsterdam road trip plans fell through, we spontaneously decided to take another adventure. After battling the language barrier between the seven of us USD students knowing very, very minimal French and the SNCF train employees, we hopped on a 9 AM train out of Paris from the St. Lazare train station and arrived in Bayeux a little over two and a half hours later. I organized the entire trip, decided when to leave Paris, return, how to get to the cemetery, what we'll have time for, etc., yet I was the only one that managed to make it to the ticket counter and have to buy a second ticket the morning of, even with my confirmation number. At least I was promised a refund if I returned later in the week. Let's see how successful that is. Also, we accidently bought tickets in which a French discount card for 12 to 25 year olds is needed upon checking the ticket, so we were all forced to upgrade our tickets to the higher price when the attendant came by, waking up us to check our tickets. The attendant was having a rough time with a British woman travelling with a French man. They were speaking what seemed to be clear French to each other, but the woman, who was carrying an invalidated ticket, like ourselves, pretended she didn't know any French, like us, so she shouldn't be receiving the fine for breaking those rules as the man gave us an exception other than the necessary upgrade we all paid for. Since she was travelling with a Parisian, she should know to validate her ticket as there are numerous bold, impossible-to-miss reminders throughout the train station warning travelers of the fine. This is just another instance in which being kind to the Parisians has helped us. The French attendant explained to us what we were doing wrong and how to avoid the mistake next time, yet the British woman raising her voice and going on a rant, wearing the attendant out, was given a stricter, more demanding fine. Ticket checking on a train would be a very tiresome job to have with so many travelers trying to beat the system.
When we arrived in Bayeux, it was cold, windy, and rainy - just as the weather report predicted. We all decided to get a quick, warm pick me up with an espresso and some warm food. We sat down at the first cafe we passed by. Boy, was that a mistake. After finally getting used to wanting a simple shot of espresso, we ordered "cafes" all around. All of the other cafes I've been to in Paris have taken that to mean, "espresso shot," but here we were all given watery americanos. On the bright side, it did the job of warmth and caffeine. We then ordered pizzas, croques, a quiche, and a sandwiche. The pizza came out in overly symmetric and flat, not as disordered and scrumptious looking as any other meal I've ordered here in France. Cameron doesn't like mushrooms, so he picked them off and gave them to me. I was very excited and hungry to devour them, but I couldn't help but laugh after taking the first bite as the mushrooms were frozen. We all quickly concluded that our prior assumptions upon looking at the food were indeed true and our waiter had defrosted all of our meals from a cardboard box in a microwave. Nate savored the sandwich he ordered while the rest of us picked at our food in disgust. It makes sense that the restaurant can run such a scam as it's the only cafe by the train station in a little town that no one really travels to other than for the cemeteries. It's not like he has regulars there. He must do fine running off of tourists who will never return nor have anyone to warn about this awful dining experience. Hopefully he's able to realize the ethics of what he's doing. Karma might come back and bite him in the..
We then decided to take an adventure to the American cemetery at Omaha Beach. After much debate of taking two cabs or renting bikes for our 15 km journey, we all eagerly agreed on biking, despite the rain drizzling outside. And because cabs are apparently a significant amount more (25 or 50 or some crazy percentage more than any other day) in Normandy on Sundays. As sad as this sounds, it was probably the most exercise I had partaken any day I had been here thus far. The exercise reminded me how addicting I find adrenaline and endorphin rushes. Made me want to go for a run when returning to Paris, except it was 11 PM, so I figured it wasn't the safest idea. It was mainly a straight cut through the country to get to the memorial. The ride was a peaceful break from the city life. Smelling freshly bloomed flowers, rain in the fields, and even manure were a nice contrast to the sidewalks and metro smelling like urine and the sweaty BO smell of the metro, even on the rainier, brisk days due to the overcrowded city life. It was nice to be able to have a destination so far away and not have the option of taking the metro to get there. I'd much rather get some exercise and explore the natural, open air side of Paris. This bike ride is definitely a French treasure and has inspired me to walk over taking the metro and to go on runs for that addicting, healthy rush from only attainable with strenuous exercise. As unsafe as this bike ride seemed, biking on the side of an uneven road in the hills of a foreign country, the road barely having two lanes, us not having helmets, etc. - it all added to the excitement of this experience. It almost seemed like an accomplishment making it there and back without at least one of us falling off of our bike into a ditch. We're so ready for Tour de France. I even saw a man in a his spandex biking suit and a helmet making his bright fire-truck red bike, coming the other direction. He was turning onto a different road and I was quite impressed by how sharp his turn was and how he was able to lean his bike to such a small angle with the ground.. until he fell right in front of a car! Luckily, he bounced right back up without any scratches too intense. It was a good reminder we must still keep our guard up and live with at least a little fear to not fall into such easily avoidable and even life-threatening mishaps.
Rain usually puts a damper on the day, but it really added to the experience of the trip. It set the tone for travelling to such a moving, emotional cemetery. Many Americans know of at least one soldier who is buried here or at least are moved by their stories and pay reverence for their lives as they gave their lives our freedom. Over 9500 Americans are buried in this cemetery - all with different careers, backgrounds, economical statuses, sexes - but they all shared one thing in common - a love so great for America that they'll put their life on the line to honor their country and protect their families back home. One of the stories was about a father of 26 years old who died in battle at Normandy leaving his wife, three young children, and a son of 7 months he had never met before behind. It's instances like these that make me damn proud to be an American. Walking past the wall memorial of the missing and into the cemetery with white crosses and crosses of the Jewish soldiers with the star of David was very moving.
Endless amount of crosses
It was emotional hearing all the Americans speaking English around me and how they all travelled such a far way and made an effort to pay reverence to their ancestors and loved ones. Seeing tombs such as the one pictured below really moved me as they really did honor every soldier that acted heroically to give up his life for the rest of us today.
"Here lies in honored glory a comrade known in arms known only to God."
Omaha Beach
Diagram of Normandy attack
Think not only upon their passing
Remember the glory of their spirit
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