'Hurry up! We’re going to miss the bus!' I screamed
over my shoulder.
'Relax, chid-chid' she said, as she continued walking
at her slow pace.
Over the 10-day holiday in Normandy with a friend,
this has come to be my nickname. Chid-chid. Irritable. Whether it is a noun or
an adjective, I still don’t know, but the Hindi language has always been too
mind-boggling for my ‘How can non-living things have a gender?’ logic. I can’t
argue with her. I think I can be a real chid-chid, more so when it comes to
travel.
Visiting Mont-Saint-Michel (pronounced Moh-Sah-Me-shell)
has been one of those little dreams for quite a while now. Those little dreams, that aren't large enough for you to dive into and pursue in hasty determination, but that lie in wait at the back of your mind, and find their ways into your thoughts at the most random moments, only to gently remind you that they too, are waiting to be acted on. It struck me as unreal in every
picture of it that I came across, as if such beautiful structures were saved
for fantastic imagination, and would be lost the moment pen touched paper. This
was undoubtedly the top thing-to-see on my bucket list when planning my trip to
Normandy.
Mont-St-Michel is a small island off the coast of Lower
Normandy. The hill's peak is capped by the beautiful abbey, while ramparts
along the periphery of the island enclose a tiny medieval village. Due to its
location, the island has been exposed to the strong currents of the Couesnon
river. I stand corrected. That’s how it should be. But over the years, a
lot of sediment and silt have accumulated on the island, and the river,
rendered powerless due to human activity, has been unable to carry away the
sediment. A huge project, to be completed by 2015, is now underway, to
restore the Mont to its original maritime character.
To get there, we caught a bus from the city of Rennes. I’ll save practical information for the end
of the post. But, be warned, a day-trip there must entail solid plans,
quite unlike our own. The bus schedule can quite often get in the way of visiting
the Mont at your own pace.
The things that stood out on my visit: The crowd
reminded me of the only time I visited Tirupati with my family. For the
uninitiated, Tirupati is a city in south India, well-known for its temple that
is probably one of the most visited pilgrimage sites in the world. A trip that we
took when I was around 8 years old, that has left me with unexpected memories;
of being unable to catch sight of the idol after waiting for long hours to see it,
because I was being carried away by the sheer force of the tall crowd; of being in
tears while my father got a tonsure, as amused bystanders looked on; of being
appeased by large portions of Tirupati laddoo, a sweet that I
hold in high reverence, quite unlike the place it originates from.
I seem to have digressed. Back to Mont-St-Michel. So, caught amidst
such a high density of people, we could hardly move. Before we even realised
it, we had joined the end of a queue that appeared to head in the direction of the entrance of the abbey. It was time to
weigh the odds, as we stood there sweating under the scorching sun.
With this never-ending queue, who knew if we’d be able to make it
back in time before the last bus left? We had no place to stay there, and I
wasn’t willing to squander 100 or more euro on a hotel closeby. I had been
inside more cathedrals in the past three years than I had visited sacred places
my entire life before that. And quite frankly, probably because of my agnostic
nature, I am more enamoured by the external architecture of churches than their sacrosanct interiors.
We passed souvenir shops on our way, and I began to
take a look at the postcards. One thing I have come to realise on travels, and then applied to every trip I make. I always take a look at postcards displayed
in local stores after I have finished visiting a place. That way, I know if
I’ve missed something, and if it is alright to have skipped it. Postcards
provide a compilation of the best shots of any spot, and usually cover the main
attractions in a region. While I guiltily swallowed the voice inside my head that screamed 'This is cheating!', I quickly spotted a few postcards of the abbey. It
looked like a pretty cloister, but it was something we could skip. We broke out
of the queue, and made our way in the opposite direction as we walked along the
periphery of the little island.
A lot of people were peeking out from the abbey and taking photographs. This struck me as a little unusual. I
doubted that the muddy slush that surrounded us would make for a pretty picture. But a view of the distant bay lay in wait. For the moment, I was happy enough to be looking at the
structure than from it.
After spending an hour or two walking around the island, we made our way back to the bus stop on the causeway. I took one last look, longingly, before getting on the bus. The feeling hadn't changed. I had imagined that being there, seeing it for over two hours, touching the medieval walls as we walked in narrow streets packed with touristy shops, would change its surreal feel. But it hadn't. To me, it was still unreal, like a florid drawing in a fanciful dream. I would revisit it, I promised myself, in what now seems like shallow attempts at placation. Someday, after 2015. When the construction was complete, and the Mont had been restored to its original setting. When plans were properly laid, queues wouldn't bother, and I didn't have to worry about having to leave. I would time it to stand at the highest point in the abbey, and peek out as high tides swept up to the shores of the island around me. And then I would stay there, on top of the world, and allow it all to sink in. Someday.
Practical information:
- This site here provides all the information you’ll need about Mont-St-Michel. Do try and sychronise your visit with the time of the high tides that occur twice a month. I’ve heard that the view from the abbey during high tides is spectacular.
- Getting there by public transport: Buses ply from Rennes and Saint Malo. In Rennes, the bus service is provided by Keolis, and the bus station lies just outside the entrance to the train station, on the right. Silly as this might sound, if you’re over 18 and have a valid licence, my suggestion would be to rent a car and drive there! It’d save you a lot of trouble.
