Visit to Mont Saint-Michel


It was the first trip that I made with crews of faculty. Not with all of them, but this selectiveness have proved a care and interaction we make in the faculty. There are surely more people in the programme, but there are just to many that we won’t be able to communicate with every one of them profoundly unless it’s not grouped in small number. What would be the best way to build a profound interaction between individual?

So, 10 of us, we decided to make a road trip, to the north part of France: Normandie. It was just later that I figured out where we visited was where Arsène Lupin glorified his story. The trip was quite simple not like it was for the designated drivers. The route laid passing Étretat, Honfleur, Caen and Mont Saint-Michel. Each visit had its charm. The theme of Étretat was a horn-like rock launching toward sky and an endless cliff whose gigantic height fear those who approach it from the shore. Honfleur, as a port town, strictly attached housed side by side, performed an exotic landscape of yacht garage, which I didn’t really identify myself in. There were many tourists walking around the boarder of canal romanticising the visit. Caen was for a beer night and to see an old castle centred in the city, then the highlight was Mont Saint-Michel we went after.


I didn’t assume that this place is such a well-known destination for many people, in that I’ve heard after many of them mentioning this site as their proximate arrival. It has turned quite touristic in the way there are restaurants and souvenir shops all shouldered up all the way up to the entrance of the monastery. It was the first Sunday of the month so we all could have free entrance to the monastery where it is believed to have a sacred energy pouring to the rooftop garden, which was under construction for remodelling that time.


The air was heavy and wet as I walked around the hall. It was dark, so that anyone would just lose oneself in walking. Fat pillars blocked the sight as if there were no more to see beyond, and as my curiosity dragged me to go around those pillars I eventually ended up coming back where I started. As it repeated, there was no more starting point to mark. I recalled those little rocks I collected on the shore of Étretat. I rescued them, because they seemed to possess faces of people who couldn’t escape from the ocean dreaming to arrive toward the gigantic cliff then got trapped. They were 10 little stones I carried in my backpack and there in the hall I prayed for them to ease their struggling. A light flashed down over my head as I looked up, and there I saw the statue of archangel Michel pointing down the earth with his sword.

There will be another trip as we already planned it. This time we’d like to go further and deeper to taste the flavour of such interaction. This time we are heading south, instead of north. And this time, we won’t be driving but be driven by the world’s fastest train and local taxis. And hopefully, I’d like to collect another 10 souvenirs as I could last time.


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