Across The Channel

I can’t even remember the first time I came upon the striking image of Mont Saint Michel. It could have been in one of those glossy coffee table books featuring ancient sites around the world. Or perhaps I saw it featured in some travel programme on television. All I know is that I have known about Mont Saint Michel for many years, and it quickly became a place I wanted so much to visit, if I had the chance.

The opening came over the past few days, when, with exams over and summer weather setting in, I headed for France early on Thursday morning with the Singapore Doctor to check out Paris for a day, before journeying through the countryside and then into the Normandy coast on Saturday to visit that awesome monument.

I guess it’s pretty easy to imagine why Mont Saint Michel would have captured the imagination of so many people through the ages. Look at its dramatic setting, desolate and windswept, centuries of ingenious human construction, brooding and looming on top of a natural rock outcrop surrounded on all sides by mudflats. At high tide, however, the waters sweep in, and Mont Saint Michel becomes a virtual island, cast adrift, it seems, from the mainland, lonely and isolated.

Yet it has been occupied for more than a millennium, emerging first as an abbey and place of pilgrimage, to become the world heritage site and tourist trap of today. How did it come to be? The story goes that there once was a bishop named Aubert who ruled the nearby town of Avranches in the early middle ages. According to my guidebook, in the year 708, Aubert was visited by Saint Michel in a dream.

“The archangel ordered him to make the rock that had just been surrounded by the sea, into a place of worship dedicated to him,” the account went. “Aubert did nothing about it thinking his imagination had got the better of him. Saint Michael grew impatient with him, and when he appeared the third time, he poked a hole in Aubert’s skull to make him believe.”

So Aubert got the message. With that, and several other miracles later, he ordered the foundations for the abbey to be laid, and over the next few hundred years, an imposing gothic structure was erected, ringed eventually by a small town at the foot of the rock. The history of the Mont surpassed even the ecclesiastical. The Mont also repelled English invaders during the Hundred Year War, became transformed into a prison during the days of the French Revolution and Empire, and was declared a historic monument in 1874.

Arriving from the nearby city of Rennes, we had the chance first to walk through the little town, meandering through the narrow lanes, choked full of ancient history and modern gift shops, up medieval staircases, before reaching the historic abbey, where stunning views of the surrounding were on offer. The rooms were impressive too – the main church, the crypt, the refractory, and the charming cloisters, where the colors of the flowers presented a bright contrast to the drab and dark interiors of the abbey.

We were blessed with wonderful weather that day, and had a delightful time exploring not only much of Mont Saint Michel, but also the central core of Rennes, about an hour and a half away. The city served as the capital for Brittany, and it’s worth noting that the Bretons maintain a distinct culture and language from the French, with some public signs even appearing in both languages.

We had spent the previous day in Paris, spending most of our time checking out the Musée d’Orsay, about which I may write separately, and then walking through the central parts of town, including a nice detour into the Galeries Lafayette, with its amazing golden steel and glass dome. Interestingly enough, Printemps was just next door. I guess only Singaporeans of a certain age would recall the time when both department stores had a branch in Singapore. What happened? Why didn’t they survive? Were their offerings really that bad, or was it because they had unpronounceable names?

Back in Paris on Saturday, the day had turned pretty hot, as we started off by touring the grand Hôtel des Invalides, featuring the prominent dome church which held the remains of Napoleon Bonaparte, plus several other great French military leaders such as Tourenne, Lyautey and Foch. Thereafter, it was off to the Musée d’Art Moderne across the river, but not before we chanced serendipitously upon a weekend antiques market along the Rue Cler.

Compared to the wonders of the Musée d’Orsay, this modern art museum seemed like a pitiful distant cousin. Parts of the front courtyard were covered in graffiti, while some young men were happy to take advantage of its marble work to try out their skateboarding skills. Inside, only a small selection greeted us, though I can’t really complain, given that the admission was free.

The rest of the day was spent on and around Ile de la Cité, where the Notre Dame cathedral could be found. We didn’t plan on going in, as the two of us had visited it previously, and it was just as well, for it seemed as though half the world had descended upon that small island. Yes, Paris is a popular place to be in, and we’re pretty lucky that it’s just a couple of hours away from London.

Finally, with me being me, no account of my trip to Paris would be complete without brief mentions of our culinary encounters. Lunch on the first day came at the Angelina, on Rue de Rivoli, right next to the Tuileries Gardens. It’s better known as a tea and pastry place, and we had one of their house specialties, the Mont Blanc, a meringue like item with chestnut paste. Yum. Dinner was an altogether grander affair, taking place at Le Madeleine Castellane, where the duck confit was totally divine, coming nicely in between a gratinée à l’onion and a crêpe suzette.

I wasn’t as satisfied the next day, lunching at Mont Saint Michel. I had heard about some special local Normandy omelet dished up at the La Mere Poulard, and decided to give it a try. It was weird. The dish came with copious amounts of eggy foam, resembling more a soufflé than a traditional omelet. It seems as though quantities of air must have been pumped into the egg mixture before it was set onto fire. My advice – don’t try it. Go instead for the grilled seafood.

I don’t know when I shall next see Paris. It’s an easy place to get used to, but when you aren’t familiar with the language, it’s difficult then to really absorb the culture of the city, which is why so many people from Singapore look more towards the English-speaking cities of the world instead. It doesn’t mean we are insular. And to be sure, art forms like music or painting command a universal appeal, transcending language. But it’s certainly not a place where I can wander in and out of bookstores, pick up Le Monde in the morning, chat with the locals, catch up with latest television shows, or attend the theatre.

But I have been fortunate in having journeyed to Paris quite a few times, savoring much of what it offers, and there are nothing but fond memories of each visit. My abiding regret this time round? Well, I wanted a chance to get a meal from the Quick fastfood restaurant. When I last had a Quick burger, I found it better than McDonald’s. This time round, it wasn’t to be.

Travel Notes: We journeyed to France under the Chunnel on board the Eurostar and stayed at the Helios Opera Hotel, providing delightful, clean and modern accommodation near the central Opera Garnier. The trip to Mont Saint Michel was managed courtesy of a fast TGV train ride, which whizzed us from Montparnasse station in Paris to the central terminus at Rennes, and a separate bus connection provided by Les Courriers Bretons, which ushers passengers straight to the destination’s doorstep.