We woke to the news of the shootings of yet more children in classrooms in America. How is it possible that gunshots have become the leading cause of death for children in the United States? Actually, how is it not possible? We are coming back to Minnesota and New Mexico, respectively, in less than two weeks. Being away has been both a sanctuary and an opportunity to see the US from outside looking in. The view is heartbreaking. There are plenty of terrific problems in Europe, many injustices, corruption, greed. But one thing I've seen, again and again, is the care with which the community cares for its children. What would we say about a country such as France if they allowed the mechanism that is the leading cause of death for their children to be so easily obtained? From this side of the Atlantic, the absurdity is even more astounding. Mom and I thought about wars and guns and slain children all day, and the sky cooperated by giving us a cloudy, troubled visage.
In northern France today, the wind was strong and rain was an occasional companion. We drove the back country roads (some of them verrryyy narrow) to a few locations that travel genius Mom had found. Our first stop was the chateau where William the Conqueror was married. Since the place was closed for lunch, we only toured the outer grounds, and I gotta say those grounds were epic. Gardens and sculpture and old, old trees, a moat and a huge, tall fortress wall were all that we needed to satisfy our medieval cravings. Day after day, we see the incredible beauty that humans are capable of building. It's hard to reckon that with the simultaneous, incessant news of destruction.
After our garden tour, we took a short jaunt over to a neighboring town on the northern coast. It was quite hilly and the drive there, all misty and dappled with bits of sun poking through the dark clouds, was enough of a sight to see. But oh, when I spotted the sea, the rocky beach, and the white cliffs that are typical of the region, my entire body, tense from worries and weariness of everything, released its burden and I was able to breathe deeply. What beauty! We took a funicular (what an excellent word and an equally excellent apparatus) from atop the cliffs down to the coast - in less than 2 minutes! It's a free service and if we wanted, we could go up and down all day. We decided to stay down, had lunch and then I explored the seaside. Rocks in many sizes from less than an inch to around 6 inches filled the coast. There were little beach huts along the edge and the ocean smells were all salty and fresh. Soon it was time to head back up the funicular, though, but for good reason.
Next we drove a short distance back down to another coastal area that is famous for its "belle epoch" houses. And boy were they both belle and epoch (good names for twins?). The ornate designs, bright and creative colors, and striking presence were breathtaking, and seeing one after another, especially with the wind and the clouds and the sea, made the atmosphere feel like some kind of dream world. The town had an eerie vibe, though. Most of the houses looked unused (or maybe closed for the season), which gave the place a kind of ghost town feel, but also, there were many tourists and occasional gift shops bringing a kind of false life to the place. I swear, we are the luckiest two people to be able to experience the number of awe-inspiring sights that we have on this trip.
And then, as if we hadn't had enough wow happening, Mom took me to the most confounding thing I've seen in a very long time. Close to the belle epoch town of wonder, there's a road that snakes through a forest (which is also dotted with these same surreal homes). When you get to the end, there is a beach. But get this - the beach is a rocky incline, and the ocean is on a plateau at the top! How can that happen? Climb a mountain to the ocean? Okay - not a mountain, but certainly a slope and definitely something I've never seen before. How does she find these amazements in the middle of nowhere? It's her superpower. I can't really even describe this natural phenomenon, and trust me when I tell you the pictures are not proper representation. You'll just have to hire my mother as your tour guide so that you, too, can have a daily dose (or several in today's case) of wonderment.
Last stop for the day was Ault, France. Actually, Ault is the reason we were in this part of France to begin with. It's a pretty unremarkable town and somewhat worn down. So why Ault? Well, big sister Jenny (hi Jen!) lives in Ault. That is, she lives in Ault, Colorado, USA. And we found out that her sister town (I'm pretty sure this is an official thing, maybe a handshake deal or a DNA test or something) is Ault, France. So we had to see it. And we did. It was late and we were tired and the tourist office that had official signs and a dot on a map turned out not to exist. So sorry, Ault. It was a short visit. We didn't even make it down to its coast, where their spectacular white cliffs are featured. As we drove away, tired and gloomy, Google and my brain, in cahoots with each other, got us lost. Good thing though. We found ourselves on the coast again, and in a perfect spot to view those cliffs of white and its dazzling beach and sea. Somehow, we always manage to find our way...
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