Storming the Beaches at Normandy and Exploring Northwestern France
Welcome back, dear readers! As promised in my previous post, this is the grand finale of my European adventure and focuses on two unforgettable days exploring Normandy, Rouen, Caen, Honfleur, St. Malo, and the magnificent Mont Saint-Michel.
Our overnight trip to the northwest coast of France (so très chic, as they say) began in the early morning hours. Well, early for those of us still recovering from the fifteen million steps we logged at The Louvre the day before. We booked through Paris City Vision Tours and made our way to the Hotel Pullman in the 15th Arrondissement, where our groggy group filled two tour buses. You’ll note, I didn’t call them “spacious.” Legroom, apparently, is an optional luxury in Europe. The buses also lacked onboard facilities, which is not ideal for those of us with “petite” bladders (long-time readers know my struggle). Anyway, back to business. Once introductions were made – our driver, Brian, was a jolly fellow, and our trilingual guide, Lenora, gave her safety spiels in French, Spanish, and English – we settled into our personal space bubbles. Phones charging, snacks stashed, prayers whispered for working Wi-Fi and we were off! Oh, and a fun fact for ya: the moment a vehicle started moving, my brother fell asleep. Every. Single. Time. It’s his narcoleptic superpower.
We shared our bus with a friendly family from North Carolina (mom, dad, and a delightfully sassy teenage daughter) and a lovely couple from Indiana. The latter proved especially good company, especially since the Thunder vs. Pacers NBA Championship tipped off that very day.
Rouen: Medieval Charm & “Bonjour Belle!” Vibes After a couple of hours of watching the scenic French countryside roll by along the River Seine, we arrived in Rouen, a medieval gem of a port city oozing with storybook charm. I couldn’t help but hum songs from Beauty and the Beast (“There goes the baker with his tray like always…”). Rouen’s highlights include the Cathédrale Notre-Dame (home to Richard the Lionheart’s tomb), the Museum of Fine Arts, La Maison Sublime (a historic Jewish monument), and Le Gros-Horloge, a 14th-century astronomical clock that gleams like a golden portal to another era. Historical sidenote: The Rouen Palais de Justice was where Joan of Arc was tried for heresy and ultimately burned at the stake. Poor gal – “fiery” ending doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Honfleur: Postcard-Perfect & Full of Flavor
Lunch was in Honfleur – possibly my favorite stop of the trip. This delightfully small but hard-working fishing village, perched where the Seine meets the English Channel, looks like it was painted by Monet himself. Seaside markets, art galleries, and cozy cafés lined the cobblestone streets. I devoured some of the best asparagus risotto and grilled pollock of my life. And I consider myself a risotto connoisseur, so that’s saying something. With full bellies and happy hearts, we re-boarded the bus – fortified for the emotional weight of what was to come next.
Normandy & Omaha Beach: Where History Breathes
This was the stop. Normandy and the American cemetery at Omaha Beach. As children of a history professor, my brother and I couldn’t imagine missing the opportunity to visit Normandy. In fact, we insisted. We arrived on June 5, the day before the 81st anniversary of D-Day. Soldiers and staff were preparing the cemetery for the next day’s remembrance ceremony, and we found ourselves surrounded by living history: WWI planes flying overhead, paratroopers drifting down like ghosts from the past, and amphibious units practicing along the coast.
At one point, we came upon a family searching for their loved one’s grave with the help of several soldiers. When they found it, they gathered quietly as a hush fell across the field of white crosses. “Taps” began to play and the tears began to flow. It was one of the most profoundly moving moments of my life.
As we continued walking, we stopped at several headstones, one belonging to a soldier from Oklahoma who died on July 4, 1943, and another from New York who fell on D-Day as part of the historic Operation Overlord. Then came the one that undid me: “Here rests in honored glory a comrade in arms known but to God”. Cue the lump in my throat.
For the history buffs out there (and because I can still hear Dr. Jimmy’s voice lecturing with pride): The American Cemetery at Norman spans 172.5 acres and was dedicated on July 18, 1956. France granted the land in perpetuity to the United States as a gesture of deep gratitude. Now, let these numbers sink in: There are 9,388 headstones – 9,236 crosses and 152 Stars of David – along with a reflecting pool, a garden of the missing, and a stunning mosaic ceiling in the chapel depicting America blessing her sons as they depart. Forty-five sets of brothers rest here, as do three Medal of Honor recipients.
The Omaha Beach experience was just as tremendous. Standing there in the pouring rain, watching amphibious units in the distance, it was impossible not to feel the gravity of what happened on those very shores eight decades ago.
Everyone should visit this sacred place once in their lifetime. General John J. Pershing said it best: “Time will not dim the glory of their deeds.” May his words of wisdom and vision never diminish the importance of his message.
Caen: Apple Tart Tatin Therapy
Emotionally spent but grateful, we dried our eyes and headed to Caen for dinner and rest at the Novotel Hotel. The group meal ended with a perfect apple tart tatin. Everyone was part of the Clean Plate Club that evening. The hotel was modern and minimalist with concrete walls, simple décor, and clearly designed for tour groups (especially veterans visiting in June). Signs throughout the lobby thanked American, British, and Canadian troops. The next morning’s buffet featured a GIANT pump dispenser of Nutella. Enough said. We also sampled an impressive array of Bon Mamane jams, thanks to the handy croissant vessels. All in the name of cultural exploration, of course.
Saint Malo: Butter, Crepes, and Cobblestones
First stop of the day: Saint-Malo, a walled seaside town in Brittany that juts into the English Channel. Eighty percent of it was destroyed in WWII but has been lovingly rebuilt. We wandered through the farmers’ market filled with fruit, pastries, and heads of lettuce roughly the size of beach balls. Local artisans proudly displayed handmade jewelry, whimsical housewares, and unique artwork. My brother found his happy place at La Maison du Beurre Bordier – the world-famous butter and cheese shop. The aroma alone nearly convinced us to apply for French citizenship on the spot. After tearing ourselves away (barely) we enjoyed heavenly crepes – caramel, lemon, and chocolate…in that order of preference. A stroll to Cathédrale Saint-Vincent rounded out the visit, where medieval architecture, stained glass, and stone sarcophagi took our breath away.
Mont Saint-Michel: A Stairway to Wonder
Oh, Mont Saint-Michel – the crown jewel. Thankfully, we arrived at low tide, allowing us to climb all 350+ stairs and take in sweeping views of the bay. The abbey’s layered architecture seems to defy gravity, and it’s no wonder it’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I now know why it’s a pilgrimage destination for visitors near and far. We delighted in watching laughing schoolchildren exploring the sand and sea and collecting shells, which made the whole scene feel joyfully timeless. In the gift shop, I found a small wind-up music box with a pastel print of Mont Saint-Michel. It now sits on my mantel at home, playing Fϋr Elise as I recall fondly the magic of that day.
BSG Reflects
Northwest France, with its small towns and quiet rhythms, offers a glimpse into everyday life – families, shopkeepers, students, dreamers – all living their stories, just like us. People navigating the daily routines, joys, and challenges we all face.
Watching women my age chatting in the markets, I felt a sudden kinship. With the help of my brother, I proudly (and clumsily) told them, “Je suis grand mère avec deux petits fils”. Their smiles and knowing “oui oui, mon cher” warmed me from the inside out.
On the bus ride back to Paris, I began plotting and planning my next French adventure. Because, let’s be honest, this trip only deepened my wanderlust.
During this season of thanksgiving, and in honor of all Veterans, I bid you a heartfelt adieu – until the next adventure.
Big Suitcase Girl 
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