London Calling: A Stranger in a Strange Land
This entry is about France. I have been in France for the past four days, having only come back to London yesterday, and it has been a completly different experience.
First, let me explain that the part of France that I was in, that was the northern tip of France, it's the Canada of France if you will. That being said, despite the southern French who visit during the summer the area is not very populated and mainly farm land. English is a hardly a common langauge in this area. So, to recap, this isn't Paris, France. This is more Sheep Out Number People 100 to 1 France. Very rural.
I've had a very mixed reaction to this. One, being France is slightly uncomfortable for me because I don't speak French. This is a serious handcap (though not as bad as I feared) and I have spent the entire trip feeling bewildered because I'm not really understanding people and ashamed because I feel so completely rude not being able to speak the language. This has caused be to make the decision to never visit another country without being able to at least known the common courtesies.
That aside, the pastries hear are like no other. There is no Eclair like a french eclair.
A big part of the visit to France was being able to visit the Normandy Memorial and the Norman beaches. This was actually our reason for leaving England for Normandy. Visiting the Norman beaches left me with a weird, twisted feeling. Part of the feeling is: "OMG, I just visited the place the practically decided the Western Front. This is wear thousands of people died. " The another part of the feeling was: "Wee, we are on a beach with things (old German bunkers) to climb and play on! Let us all play!" Which is what we did. After collecting sand and taking pictures of the beach, cliffs, and the bunkers we would all procide to climb in and out of holes and over hills and old walls. We played on a battle feild. I can't really wrap my mind around that.
Out of this entire trip to France no part of it has been as emotional as visiting the Norman Memorial to the fallen American soliders. This is were our dead from the Norman attack are buried. All of them, and there are alot of them. It is a heart breaking thing to see those rows of whilte marble but it also made me so proud and honnored to be an American and to stand on the ground that our soliders died for. Truman put it the best I think, He said, "The heroic dead have our undying gratitude." Say what you want about America ( I"m talking to you angry Finnish lady in the pub) but we fight and die for our ideals even if it is on forgien land.
First, let me explain that the part of France that I was in, that was the northern tip of France, it's the Canada of France if you will. That being said, despite the southern French who visit during the summer the area is not very populated and mainly farm land. English is a hardly a common langauge in this area. So, to recap, this isn't Paris, France. This is more Sheep Out Number People 100 to 1 France. Very rural.
I've had a very mixed reaction to this. One, being France is slightly uncomfortable for me because I don't speak French. This is a serious handcap (though not as bad as I feared) and I have spent the entire trip feeling bewildered because I'm not really understanding people and ashamed because I feel so completely rude not being able to speak the language. This has caused be to make the decision to never visit another country without being able to at least known the common courtesies.
That aside, the pastries hear are like no other. There is no Eclair like a french eclair.
A big part of the visit to France was being able to visit the Normandy Memorial and the Norman beaches. This was actually our reason for leaving England for Normandy. Visiting the Norman beaches left me with a weird, twisted feeling. Part of the feeling is: "OMG, I just visited the place the practically decided the Western Front. This is wear thousands of people died. " The another part of the feeling was: "Wee, we are on a beach with things (old German bunkers) to climb and play on! Let us all play!" Which is what we did. After collecting sand and taking pictures of the beach, cliffs, and the bunkers we would all procide to climb in and out of holes and over hills and old walls. We played on a battle feild. I can't really wrap my mind around that.
Out of this entire trip to France no part of it has been as emotional as visiting the Norman Memorial to the fallen American soliders. This is were our dead from the Norman attack are buried. All of them, and there are alot of them. It is a heart breaking thing to see those rows of whilte marble but it also made me so proud and honnored to be an American and to stand on the ground that our soliders died for. Truman put it the best I think, He said, "The heroic dead have our undying gratitude." Say what you want about America ( I"m talking to you angry Finnish lady in the pub) but we fight and die for our ideals even if it is on forgien land.