This was it! The big day I was going to fulfill the dream! And walk across the bay of Mont Saint-Michel to the island – and back!

Here we go:

[Note: This was written that evening in my hotel room. I’m adding in pictures after I got back. I’ll distribute pictures through the text.]

I probably should have taken note of how often the tour company emphasized the distance – 7 kilometers – one way! And I should have considered that I already had blisters on the bottoms of my feet. And I definitely should have put sunscreen on my feet after I took off the shoes and socks I wore to drive to the meeting place!

I’ll be honest – I could not keep up. The mud felt better on my feet than hard sand waves – but in a lot of places, there were rocks under six inches of squooshy mud, which did hurt those blisters. And it was a lot more work to scrunch through knee-high mud than even to wade through rivers that went up to my thighs. Bottom line, the guide walked fast.

Selfishly, I was glad that there were three stragglers – a group with a little dog – who were as far behind me as I was behind the main group – so I didn’t feel quite as bad about not keeping up. At one point, the guide did go back for the lady having trouble in the mud and gave her a hand. But it wasn’t like you could get lost in the bay. I did worry about if I fell over in the mud or in a river, if I’d get help on time. Though it would have been nice to walk with friends who’d give you a hand in tough spots, I was kind of glad that I hadn’t dragged anyone else on an adventure that ended up being a strenuous workout.

There was a nice family – a husband and wife and daughter – who kindly summarized in English what the guide said at the stops. For all the French CDs I listened to, my French fled when I got here – but French people invariably speak much better English than my French, and have been very kind.

We walked very close to the island of Tombelaine in the middle of the bay.

By this time, I realized the tops of my feet were getting sunburned. (It’s a bad thing if I notice that while still in the sun!) So I tried to stand with my feet in the shade of my legs when we stopped for the guide to talk. But I still didn’t think to pull out the sunscreen in my bag and apply it!

It did feel amazing to be there in the middle of the bay.

I am glad I did the whole crossing of the bay. I didn’t know it without doing both, but the High Tides Tour would have been enough.

If anybody reading this ever visits Mont Saint-Michel, do one of the tours that takes you into the bay. They’re totally worth it!

But let me compare the two tours I did in case you only have time for one:

The High Tides tour is not only shorter than the Traditional Crossing (2 hours instead of 6 hours) – it also goes at a more leisurely pace. It’s more of a Wonder-filled Stroll, whereas the Traditional Crossing is more of a Goal-oriented Workout (get to the other side!). We also stopped more frequently on the High Tides tour.

Both tours played in quicksand (so VERY cool – nothing like the quicksand that terrified me on Gilligan’s Island!), but experiencing the tide come sweeping in on the High Tides tour is just incredible.

As of a week ago, I’m 62 years old. So my stamina may not be what it once was, and I may be in denial about that. I also have short legs and had blistered feet, so besides taking 296 pictures, that’s my excuse for not keeping up. I did make it the whole way there and back.

We had a bit more than a half-hour break at Mont Saint-Michel to rest and eat a snack.

Even though looking back, I realize it would have been much more prudent to settle for the High Tides Tour – especially once I realized I had blisters on my feet – I still can’t help but be glad I did it! The High Tides Tour was a thing of wonder and joy. The Traditional Crossing was a really hard thing across really interesting sand and rivers and rocks and mud – and I’m proud to have done it!

This is how far the stragglers were behind me. But I was that far behind the main group:

I’m pretty sure the water was deeper on the way back.

Now, on the High Tides Tour, I wore neoprene footies to protect my feet. But it got me wondering what the mud would actually feel like. I wanted a more visceral experience. Yeah, I probably should have reversed that and gone barefoot on the short walk. My blisters did burst, and I lost a big flap of skin on my right big toe. But what turned out to be even worse was that I put on sunscreen back at the hotel before I left – when I was wearing shoes. The tops of my feet got a vicious sunburn. Makes me really really glad I put on sunscreen everywhere else!

But – it is really hard to walk! I may be doing more modifications of my plans for the rest of the trip.

Added later: That was a bad sunburn. Second-degree, complete with blisters, was very painful on my trip and took three weeks to heal – but still – it was totally worth it!

I wrote the above that night when I was exhausted and had sore feet. A month later, when inserting the pictures, I think of it as an awesome experience that I will remember the rest of my life.

Friday, June 19, was my fourth day in France. I didn’t realize it was Juneteenth until I turned on my computer and the google background was the Museum of African American History.

When you go on vacation, you have to make choices. I really really like to make those choices ahead of time.

Today my plan was to go to Pointe du Grouin.

I read about it in a guidebook and looked it up on Google. It was almost an hour drive from my hotel, and it wasn’t real clear how far I’d have to walk. Another friend said I really should see St. Malo. That it’s amazing. And the guidebooks concur. But it’s even further past Pointe du Grouin. So my plan had been to go to Pointe du Grouin first, then St. Malo, then back.

But – I still had blisters on the bottoms of my feet. And I couldn’t get a straight answer from google how close to Pointe du Grouin I could even park. Also, my adventures the day before had made me less excited about driving on small roads through towns. An hour drive one-way sounded like a lot.

So – I grabbed a brochure at my hotel for Parc Botanique de Haut Bretagne. I think I’d briefly looked at it before my trip when I was looking for gardens – and then had decided I’d focus on the coast. Well, when I looked it up on Google yesterday, it was less than 30 minutes away, and mostly on the Autoroute.

It’s always hard for me to change plans. But even with sore feet, walking around gardens sounded like a more relaxing way to spend the day than hiking a nebulous length hike and then trying to figure out where in a city I could park and walk around.

Now, I do think it took me longer than 30 minutes to get there, and that my GPS was up to more nebulous redirects without telling me. Because I got to thinking about roundabouts on the way to the Parc – and then there were absolutely none on the way back. And quite a few times the British lady GPS voice said “Please,” which I think is what she does when I have been getting directions wrong, instead of saying, “I’m begging you! Take the third exit!”

The Botanic Park was just gorgeous. Various gardens, artfully arranged. I went kind of haphazardly at first, looking for the Tea Room, which I eventually found – but it was closed. So I went back to the restaurant at the entrance and had a small salad and water. (Later on, the Tea Room was open, but I wasn’t hungry.)

And it turned out to be a Castle! Castle #178 on my personal Castle Count.

During lunch, I read over the park brochure they’d given me in English. It turned out they had a marked route they recommend as a circuit of the park, so I followed that afterward and only got lost a couple times. But it was a lovely place to get lost in. I don’t think most of the blooms were exactly in season, but there was enough blooming all at once to be wonderful.

This warning in the bamboo grove of 7 years bad luck made me laugh when I saw someone had ignored it.

It was all so peaceful.

I especially loved the Japanese gardens with bridges and statues and winding paths.

Oh, and I discovered reading the brochure that there was a Minotaur statue at the heart of the maze I’d briefly explored – so of course I had to try again.

I spent a couple more hours after lunch, took less time getting back to the hotel (why I strongly suspect I’d missed a turn and gotten a scenic tour on the way there), and got back around 4 pm.

So today’s pictures are mainly of flowers. Lots and lots of flowers.

At 6 pm, I did a little walking on the path across from the hotel, to see if I could make it to the bay. (It’s very close.) But the first path dead ended, and the second path had a gate. It said be sure to re-close the gate because of sheep. And even though I’d seen other people on this path, by that time I admitted I’d walked enough today, and I went back to the hotel.

Looking back at the hotel:

There’s a part of me that doesn’t like changing plans. This means I will most likely never see Pointe du Grouin or St Malo. When you’re on vacation, you have to make choices, and making choices – with permanent consequences – is tough.

But you know what I’m telling myself? It’s totally okay to change plans. It’s okay to not see some wonderful things in this area. And if I’m not disappointed, nobody will be. I had an incredibly beautiful day, walking among flowers.

I’m in France!

I write this having made it to my first hotel, the Château Corneille. [It’s more than 100 years old! It has a name! I’m calling it my Castle #176. It’s not fortified, so more of a palace than most castles in my Castle Count, but it’s good enough for this American!]

I’m not sure if I’ll get around to actually posting this and adding pictures while on the road. But I thought that writing the text while it’s fresh, would be good. [Edited to add: These posts were written during the trip, but I’m adding in pictures and posting later.]

My flight yesterday went really smoothly. I’d decided to give in and download the United app. I’d purchased the tickets with miles – had to purchase additional miles, but it was still cheaper – and that came with an included checked bag. I’ve resisted the trend of checking in before you even get to the airport – what if you don’t make it? But I gave in and checked in and checked my bag – and everything went super quickly from there. Dropped off my bag at the curb and then headed to the gate. That is a couple miles away at Dulles, but I still got there with almost two hours to spare. Which is all good.

There were some glitches on the plane. Turns out, wearing both a mask and hearing aids isn’t a great idea. I’d take the mask off one ear to get a drink or something – and my hearing aids would come off. I didn’t wear the mask the whole flight, but at least in the busy coming and going parts. Then the new travel pillow I got didn’t work out too great. The good side – I was very well cushioned, and I did have a window seat. But it was almost too big and I was drooping inside the pillow. But the scary part – I leaned against the window to start – and got vicious pain in my neck exactly where my right vertebral artery dissection happened.

This is scary because fifteen years ago I had a stroke caused by a right vertebral artery dissection – that happened when I slept on a plane. That time, I didn’t have a neck pillow at all, so I’d always blamed it on that and that we hit turbulence while I was sleeping. So to get some bad pain in my neck just from leaning that way on a plane – that was scary. And it continued long enough for me to worry.

But the good news is that I started leaning the other way and eventually, at least after I stopped trying to sleep, the pain went away. I didn’t get much sleep, though, but I did get some rest. And I did get some good reading done. I’m reading Old Bones, by Aaron Elkins – a mystery set at Mont St-Michel, that a friend told me about. Almost finished it on the plane. And hearing aids are fantastic for listening to an audiobook on the plane, so I did that when I needed to watch what was happening and while I was eating. I discovered this evening that hearing aids are also great for dining alone and listening to an audiobook. I’ve been known to bring a physical book when dining alone – this is much subtler.

It did turn out, though that the excitement of being in France, plus coffee on the plane, had me wide awake as we got off the plane, went through customs and I found the rental car office. I was in a different terminal than my reservation said (I booked it through the airline, why would they do that?) – but he had a car a little bit larger than what I’d reserved, so that worked out. (It’s still small.)

I landed at 7:30 am, so I was sitting in the rental car around 8:30. But it went really smoothly. In the garage, I hooked up my phone to it right away and chose “Android Auto” – and the directions are seamlessly integrated with the car, so I had a map on the dashboard and a highlight right behind the steering wheel telling me how much further before the next turn. I was happy that traffic was completely fine – I’d worried a little about rush hour – despite mostly being on roads with only two lanes on each side. I had an hour and a half drive to Giverny to the Impressionists Museum, but I took more like two hours. That might have been because my first time out with this car, I stayed in the slow lane behind a truck who almost led me all the way to Giverny. I figured I wasn’t in a hurry.

Early on, though, the car started beeping at me! It was very startling, and I didn’t want to look too hard at the dashboard to figure out what was going wrong. I didn’t see anything flashing that I was out of oil or gas or had a flat tire, anyway.

It took me a while – after I noticed that the current speed limit was displayed behind the steering wheel, and, yes, changed when I passed a sign that changed it – to realize that the beeping was when I exceeded the speed limit! Okay, it was really annoying, but ultimately I’m thankful for it. Because if there’s one thing I don’t want to do in a foreign country, it’s get pulled over for speeding. However, later when the roads changed to two-lane roads, with one in each direction, some cars behind me seemed kind of impatient when I scrupulously followed the speed limit. I don’t think their cars were beeping at them.

But oh my goodness, the countryside was beautiful! It made me feel like I was in a painting. And that got me thinking: Did I feel like I was in a painting because I’ve seen so many of Monet’s paintings? Or was Monet compelled to paint it because it is a quintessential painting-worthy landscape? Or both? And then I wondered, if Monet had lived during the time of color photography, would he have been as compelled to paint? I mean, this beauty begs to be captured. Would he have chosen a different method for capturing it in a different time?

Anyway, I arrived in Giverny and the GPS was asking me to go down some sketchy roads, so I just parked at a great big lot designed for tourists and joined the other tourists walking into town. And Giverny is in bloom! Walking through it was a treat. I had been envious of a Facebook friend who visited Giverny during tulip time, and I still think that would be amazing – but it is still amazing.

And then the museum! I purchased an audiotour and listened to every single stop (seventeen of them) and delighted that I didn’t have anyone with me who would get impatient with me. And read every sign by every painting. It’s not a big museum, so I could do all that in a couple hours. Right now, they’re featuring an exhibit about Monet in Giverny before his Water Lilies paintings. It told about how he moved to Giverny, became more successful, and then was able to buy a home and make the garden what he wanted it to be. The paintings were mostly of landscapes around Giverny, and they were truly wonderful.

I also walked in the Museum Gardens after that. They’ve got a haystack in a field with poppies in front of it and a big hill behind it – and I felt like I’d stepped into one of the paintings I’d just seen.

Then I grabbed a sandwich and iced tea at a café. By the way, the gray morning had turned into an incredibly lovely day with blue skies and white, puffy clouds and gentle breezes. I was starting to get tired after that, so it was good I only had another half-hour to drive to my hotel.

And my hotel is a castle! Well, it’s more of a manor, but by my old criteria – It’s more than 100 years old and has a name – I’m going to count it as the 176th castle I’ve touched – Château Corneille.

They did let me check in a tiny bit early. Then I took a nap for a couple hours and even woke up before the alarm I’d set went off. Next up was dinner in the hotel restaurant. And oh my goodness – It was a three-course meal, and each course was exquisite. I ate outside, and it was idyllic – breezes blowing and birds enthusiastically singing. (Had I mentioned? Giverny was loud with happy birds, too. I think it’s all the flowers.)

Now, some swarms of gnats showed up, and a man eating near me started smoking. But those blew over and it was lovely. I did listen to my (wonderful) audiobook after I’d soaked up all that birdsong.

So that was my first day in France for 2026. It’s now 9:25 pm and the sun isn’t nearly down. So this makes for a nice time to reflect on the day and simply be thankful.

Tomorrow: Mont Saint-Michel!