We left on Sunday morning for Omaha beach in Normandy, where U.S troops stormed the shores that infamous day of June 6th, 1944. Coincidentally, we visited the site on D-day’s 70th anniversary. It made it feel somehow even more significant.
Standing there on the wide beach, we saw the cliffs shooting up from the flat sand. The day was grey, but the cliffs were the greenest green that I’ve ever experienced. It felt solemn, with a bit of hope. I don’t really know how else to describe it. And for such a violent history, Omaha beach is surprisingly calm; as if that day 70 years ago was just a dream, a nightmare, and nothing more. As if the dead had never died, as if that war was never raged. Perhaps it’s for the best.
Standing there on the wide beach, we saw the cliffs shooting up from the flat sand. The day was grey, but the cliffs were the greenest green that I’ve ever experienced. It felt solemn, with a bit of hope. I don’t really know how else to describe it. And for such a violent history, Omaha beach is surprisingly calm; as if that day 70 years ago was just a dream, a nightmare, and nothing more. As if the dead had never died, as if that war was never raged. Perhaps it’s for the best.
We then headed to the Normandy memorial and cemetery. The memorial consisted of several open rooms with plaques containing information on specific people and events that played a role in D-day. For instance, a young woman, an artist and athlete, was featured who volunteered with the Red Cross during WWII. She is one of four civilians buried in the Normandy cemetery. And for what it is, why it is, and what it represents, the cemetery is absolutely beautiful.
Row upon row of white Italian marble carved into crosses and stars. It made me wonder if Muslims fought for the United States during WWII, and if so, if their religion was recognized. I know there weren’t nearly as many American Muslims back then, but it’s something I thought about… At any rate, the cemetery was devoid of anything but stars and crosses. The dead are buried in no certain order, except that family ties are respected. 33 pairs of brothers are buried side by side, along with a father and a son. The youngest is a boy of 16, who had lied about his age and said he was 17. Isn’t it a shame just how much war destroys?
Row upon row of white Italian marble carved into crosses and stars. It made me wonder if Muslims fought for the United States during WWII, and if so, if their religion was recognized. I know there weren’t nearly as many American Muslims back then, but it’s something I thought about… At any rate, the cemetery was devoid of anything but stars and crosses. The dead are buried in no certain order, except that family ties are respected. 33 pairs of brothers are buried side by side, along with a father and a son. The youngest is a boy of 16, who had lied about his age and said he was 17. Isn’t it a shame just how much war destroys?
But I saw something incredible at the cemetery. A bouquet of bright yellow flowers caught my eye, contrasting wonderfully with the green lawn and the white marble. I made my way over to read the name of the soldier who was loved and lost. To my surprise, the gravestone read, “Here rests in honored glory a comrade in arms unknown but to God.” And for that instance, I felt lighter. My heart swelled, and I was so proud of the human being who was thoughtful enough to leave flowers at the grave of an unknown soldier. So today, I believe that people are intrinsically good. My opinion on that changes from time to time.
Next we went to see the Bayeux tapestry. Dating back to 1066, or around then, it is a 70-meter long tapestry with a scene-by-scene depiction of William the Conqueror’s rise to power in England, embroidered after the Battle of Hastings. It felt empowering, to stand in front of such history. We also stopped by the Bayeux Cathedral, which houses the tapestry for two weeks every July. It’s architecture is gothic, intricate, and beautiful, but for some reason I wasn’t swept off my feet. Is it possible to develop a tolerance for beautiful cathedrals? What a sad thought. I bought some hot chocolate and a decorative tapestry from some nearby shops, and was delighted with both.
Alas, we made our way to Honfleur… now how shall I attempt to describe absolute perfection?
Imagine a town in the center of an impossibly green valley, with a small harbor in its heart of hearts, white fishing boats drifting idly by. Imagine narrow streets lined with the most charming of cafés, boutiques, and small houses with ornate ballonets and window boxes filled with red geraniums. Imagine old stone walls held together with moss, imagine friendly faces that care more about where you are from than where they are going…
We set about to explore this beauty of a town before dinner. We ran across a closing street market, and bought some salted caramel at a small store near an open square. I spotted a pair of earrings in the window of a tiny corner boutique on a downwards sloping side street, and went in to meet a wonderfully friendly owner! He was an older man, and when I picked out the earrings he complemented them and added with a smile that they were almost as pretty as we were. So cheesy, right? Ah well, the French are known for doing cheese well, and we were both flattered. He asked us where we were from, why we were in France, and what we were studying in Lille. He asked us if we liked Honfleur, and we didn’t know enough French to explain to him just how much we loved it. I think we got the point across though.
Imagine a town in the center of an impossibly green valley, with a small harbor in its heart of hearts, white fishing boats drifting idly by. Imagine narrow streets lined with the most charming of cafés, boutiques, and small houses with ornate ballonets and window boxes filled with red geraniums. Imagine old stone walls held together with moss, imagine friendly faces that care more about where you are from than where they are going…
We set about to explore this beauty of a town before dinner. We ran across a closing street market, and bought some salted caramel at a small store near an open square. I spotted a pair of earrings in the window of a tiny corner boutique on a downwards sloping side street, and went in to meet a wonderfully friendly owner! He was an older man, and when I picked out the earrings he complemented them and added with a smile that they were almost as pretty as we were. So cheesy, right? Ah well, the French are known for doing cheese well, and we were both flattered. He asked us where we were from, why we were in France, and what we were studying in Lille. He asked us if we liked Honfleur, and we didn’t know enough French to explain to him just how much we loved it. I think we got the point across though.
Dinner was glorious. Salmon cakes, chicken, and a chocolate caramel mousse that was divine. After dinner I watched the sunset from a café while I journal-ed, sipping a café au lait. I could easily live here forever.