Paris

Wednesday, May 2nd

I woke up in Paris and jumped in the shower which was, no lie, as big as a telephone booth. The whole time I was in Paris I didn’t have a nice comfortable shower.

I took the metro to Place de la Concorde and laughed at the Japanese tourists who all do the same things and take the same stupid pictures of themselves in front of relatively meaningless landmarks. From there I walked to the Grand Palais and Petit Palais and then down the Champs Elysees where I visited the Adidas shop and then a café where I was able to grab some breakfast. I was nearly thwarted by some damn kid that didn’t seem to want to wait his turn in the line.

After grubbing, I walked to the Arc de Triomphe and then headed to the Eiffel Tower. I hit a couple of other famous sites, Notre Dame, Pont Neuf, Hotel de Ville, etc., before heading to the financial/skyscraper district, La Defense, which ended up being completely pointless. I tried to visit the Bois de Bolougne but it was also pretty lame so I got back into the metro and headed for St. Denis, just north of Paris proper.

St. Denis, it turns out, is the place where many of the former kings of France are buried. I took a long tour of the place and then headed back into Paris to visit Sacre Coeur and was incessantly hassled by the immigrant string trick dudes. They tell you they’re going to show you a trick and then ask you to let them tie your fingers up. Umm… nice try. I have to give them credit though: there were tons of tourists from all imaginable nations there and these guys knew how to swindle them in almost every language. I was impressed.

After Sacre Coeur, I tried to visit St. Sulpice (made famous in The DaVinci Code) but it was closed. While heading back to the metro, I saw the quintessential Parisian flaky dude. He was sitting in a café drinking wine, drawing sketches and looking über-douchy.

I stopped by Pere Lachaise cemetery but it was also closed so I went to St. Eustache and then headed back to the hotel. On the way back, I took a wrong turn and ended up next to the Moulin Rouge. It turns out that my hotel was in the red-light district. Neat!

I marched back to the hotel and planned on watching the other Champion’s League game (Man U v. AC Milan) but it was fuzzed out so I watched the French presidential debate instead. My understanding was limited but I can’t tell you how annoying Segolene Royal was in that debate. She was constantly interrupting Sarkozy and acting like a pompous ass while Sarkozy kept his cool. If I were French, I would have voted for Sarkozy without question. Even if I had to make a judgment call without knowing anything at all about their proposed policies, the caliber of the Royal supporters and her behavior during the debate would have doomed her in my eyes. Seriously though, fuck socialism…

Thursday, May 3rd

Woke up, showered and then headed back to the Pere Lachaise cemetery. Tons of famous people are buried there including Marcel Proust, Frederic Chopin, Balzac (seriously), Jim Morrison, Oscar Wilde and many others. Morrison’s grave has to be guarded because it became a place where loser hippies would go to have sex and do drugs, ostensibly to honor him. Wilde’s tomb is covered in red lipstick kisses; problem is they’re all from gay dudes who have chosen Oscar Wilde as a gay hero.

After visiting the cemetery, I went back to the city to visit the Hotel Cluny and Sorbonne, but first I had to get some lunch. I stopped in an Irish Pub because they had a smoking lunch deal which included beer. Problem was, the food was fucking terrible and the beer was a demi-beer – which is to say it was 0.25L. Fuck that. To top everything off, there were these dumbass Americans in there who were being the shithead tourists that give the rest of us a bad name. To make it even worse (for me) they started talking to a couple of French dudes having lunch near me and immediately began the whole, “We’re Americans but we didn’t vote for Bush!” shtick. Fucking can it, Ok? I mean, the politics of it all pisses me off to begin with, but the whole thing about throwing your country under the bus within two seconds of meeting a foreigner really gets to me. If you don’t agree with Bush, fine, but let’s keep it in house. I can’t explain why this pisses me off so badly but it does. If only they knew that France would be electing a candidate they had nicknamed “the American” in a few days. Moving on though…

The next thing on my agenda was a trip to the Chateau at Versailles. I got on the train and was sapped of all my energy for some reason. I nodded off on the train and had to be woken up at Versailles. Everyone else had disembarked and if it weren’t the final stop, who knows where I might have ended up.

I toured the Chateau and then went back to Paris to see the Pantheon and the Jardin du Luxembourg. After that, I tried to find the next metro station and ended up at St. Sulpice again. I was able to go in this time and saw the line and other crap depicted in the DaVinci Code. The funniest part, however, was the church propaganda that they had published and made available to counter the effect of the book. After that, I headed to the Louvre to walk around and take a couple of pictures before my planned stop there the next day.

I went back to the hotel and chilled for a little bit before heading out again to see the city at night. I hit all the major sites again, including the Arc de Triomphe. This time, however, there weren’t any dumbass Canadian tourists approaching me and asking me if I spoke English. For some reason that irritated me; do I look French? Do I look anything other than American, what with my baggy pants, t-shirt and backward baseball cap? Not to mention the fact that I was also looking at a map and, therefore, obviously a tourist also. Morons. They were nice enough though…

The only other notable thing that happened was the scooter driver that got pasted by a taxi cab. This is the second time I’ve seen a scooter person get run fucking down by a cab (the other time was in Rome in 2002). Both times, they just popped back up. Since he wasn’t dead, and I was privy enough to witness a Frenchman being run over, I think we both went to bed happy that night.

Friday, May 4th

Not much to report here. I went to the Louvre and spent the whole day there. Luckily for me, the Louvre stays open until 9PM on Fridays, so I had ass-loads of time to spend in there.

And it still wasn’t enough.

I spent the first part of my visit touring the ancient Egyptian artifacts before making my way to the Greeks – the Venus de Milo, Winged Victory of Samothrace, etc. – and then to the Italian paintings where the Mona Lisa sits along with dozens of other masterpieces. From there it was the French paintings, the northern European stuff and then the ancient Persian stuff. Then, after nine hours, it was back to Montmartre for dinner and a rest before my flight back the next day.

Normandy Part II

Tuesday, May 1st

I woke up early again to meet with my tour group but had to check out of my hotel first as I was going to travel directly to Paris after we returned to Bayeux. It took FOREVER to check out; so much so that I thought I was going to be late for the tour group. It seems that the two hotels I wrote about earlier were indeed connected and that there was only one person to work both desks. Nicely done there. But I finally did get out of there and I walked back to the supermarket to get some breakfast like I had the day before except the damn place was closed because of the commie holiday. I did score a baguette from a bakery though and that had to do until we stopped for lunch.

We got into our conveyance and drove to Omaha beach. Unfortunately, the tide was in and the tide at Omaha varies by an enormous amount, at least in my eyes. There’s a sea wall and at low tide, the distance between the wall and the waterline is at least 500-600 yards. We got there at a rising tide and we only had 10 yards of beach to stand on. The tide kept coming in though and forced us over the sea wall (distance to water line 0 yards at high tide) before our guide had even finished explaining the assault. I should point out that we were at the Dog Green sector of the beach. Dog Green was a massacre. The first wave landing on the beach suffered 85-90% casualties. Think about that for a second: only one in ten men made if off that beach without getting hit or killed. There was a company in which only one guy got off the beach that day without a wound (or without being killed, but that should go without saying). I should also point out that this is the sector that was portrayed in Saving Private Ryan and it was just as bad, if not worse than, what they depicted in the movie. Our guide told us about the defenses the Germans had set up, i.e. the number of machine guns, mortars, and artillery pieces that they were armed with and if you calculate the total number of machine guns with their rate of fire, the Germans were capable of putting over 11,000 rounds on target in any given minute. And that’s just the machine guns; that doesn’t take rifle, artillery or mortar fire into account at all.

After Dog Green, we moved to the American cemetery and it was stunning. There’s actually not too much to say here except that it was a sobering experience and beautiful in a disturbing sort of way.

From the cemetery, we traveled to the Omaha Beach Museum and then to lunch. I had a ham sandwich that they stuffed fries into. It was tasty.

We left the café we had lunch in and went to a pretty much deserted area that only a few people know about. There were four major roads, or draws, that lead off Omaha beach and which incoming tanks and support vehicles could use. There was also a fifth draw that wasn’t usable but troops found their way up it and it’s also where Jimmie Monteith won his Medal of Honor. The other notable things about this location: first, it provided a great view around the whole crescent shaped beach. The Second is that, since it is unknown, some of the original German zigzag trenches are still visible and a couple of bunkers are around that you can go into.

The next site we went to was Widerstandsnest 62, a fortified German strong point overlooking the beach just north of Colleville-sur-Mer (where the American cemetery is). This time, we were given biographies of the German defenders and their stories of what was happening that day. I may be mistaken, but if I remember correctly, only 3 of the Germans that occupied that position made it out of Normandy alive. We got to go into an observation bunker and visited the site where the machine guns were located and some other German defenses. Some of the trenches are still visible here too but since this is a more trafficked location, they’ve been worn down quite a bit more than the other place we had seen. It wasn’t hard to imagine what the Germans would have seen that day and why the place was a complete shooting gallery.

We made a quick, quick stop to the site of a makeshift airbase that the Americans built just inland from Omaha. There isn’t much to say here either and the only reason we stopped here was because our guide wanted to explain that within a day or two of securing the beachhead, the Americans had already built a functional airstrip for fighter planes and an emergency landing area for stricken bombers. The speed of the building project was pretty impressive.

The next stop was another sector of Omaha beach – this time it was Fox Green. I collected another sand sample and then we headed off to Pointe du Hoc. This is where Army Rangers scaled a cliff to make an assault on some German artillery pieces that were supposed to be on top of the cliff. The Rangers are believed to be the first American forces that made it to the high ground during the Omaha assault. Some climbed up manually with their trench knife in one hand and a bayonet in the other, hand over hand, all the way to the top. Nuts. When they got there, they discovered the guns had been moved but they set out, found the guns, destroyed them and then beat back furious German counter attacks on their positions.

What stands out about Pointe du Hoc today is the landscape. The terrain is hilly and full of bumps and uneven ground. Or so you would think. Our instructor pointed out that none of the terrain as it appears today is natural. It was all caused by the bombardment on D-Day and prior to the landings. It must have been a moonscape if after 60+ years it’s still that fucked up. And the crazy thing is: there are still German bunkers that look more or less unscathed by the bombings. The krauts knew how to build defensive structures. There are random pieces of concrete strewn about though, some as many as 30 tons. Apparently, the Rangers found a bunker that was used as an ammo dump and they tossed grenades in there. The ensuing explosion was powerful enough to toss these several ton pieces of concrete about like dice. There was another unfinished bunker that was hit and the twisted rebar enforcement is a testament to the energy the explosions unleashed.

I do have to relate the tale of something else that happened at Pointe du Hoc though. I went to use the restroom and a dude pulled up next to me at the urinal and was completely staring at my junk. It wasn’t one of those split-second glances that you notice from time to time either – it was a full-on, “I think I’m just going to stare at your dick now” moment. The guy was French though and I reckon he hadn’t seen a real proper slab of meat before in his life so I can’t hold it against him even if it was wholly and totally inappropriate. That and my wang is so incredibly large that it does have it’s own gravitational pull which, naturally, pulls some eyeballs in its direction.

The last place we went to was the German cemetery. It wasn’t as majestic as the American cemetery, but let’s be honest: it fucking shouldn't be, should it? When you start a World War and the Holocaust was also your doing, you get a simple understated cemetery. Period. Still though, there are tons of people buried there. The American cemetery has over 9,000 graves. The German cemetery has over 20,000 in a much smaller area. The headstones are places nearly level with the ground and each plot has at least two soldiers buried in it. I found one with five unknown soldiers.


We left the German cemetery and with that, our tour was over. I went back to Bayeux and said goodbye to the others and then went to a pizzeria for dinner. Then I walked to the train station and was lucky enough to find and earlier train to Paris and boarded. Fortune was in my favor once again when a super hot chick that looked like Amy sat just ahead of me. She got up at one point and passed me and then as she was coming back, another dude was coming down the aisle in the opposite direction so she scooted over into my row and placed her booty right in front of my face. Word.

Once in Paris, I bought my metro ticket and then traveled to my hotel. It was a dump, honestly, but I was exhausted so I washed up, watched Chelsea v. Liverpool and then crashed out.

A quick note about my tour though: if you ever find yourself in Normandy, do a tour with Battlebus. I have gotten to be a relatively experienced traveler and I normally HATE tours with a passion. I did one in Dublin and I’m still pissed about it. It was a complete waste of time and money. I, naturally, wanted to visit Normandy and do the D-Day stuff on my own but decided against it because I wasn’t mobile (i.e. I didn’t have my own wheels) and because in THIS case, there is WAY too much info and way too much stuff to learn to do it on your own. I never would have known about Angoville, Graignes, WN 62 and a ton of other stuff if I’d have tried to wander around on my own.

As for Battlebus, there are a number of tour outfits that operate in the Normandy area that are probably fine if you just want to go to a location, take a picture or two and split. But with our group, every place we visited had its strategic importance explained, the battle broken down and relevant information passed on so you weren’t left wanting for information. On top of that, it’s a long tour and you definitely get your money’s worth. I signed up for a two-day tour and we were gone for nine hours each day. At the end, I still felt there was so much to see and do and I can only guess at how much one of the shorter baloney tours would have left me unsatisfied. I should also note that the tour group has a maximum of eight people and mine only had five including me so it’s not a big cumbersome group. Like I said (and no, I’m not getting paid for this or anything) if you go to Normandy and want to have the best experience, I would recommend Battlebus. You simply can’t do it on your own and the other tours wouldn’t do the whole thing justice.

Normandy

Sunday, April 29th

I left Munich without too much to report. The flight was ok too, except for the woman sitting next to me. She was a little too tanned and looked like she was made of leather. She kept nodding off and snapping her head back and did this for the duration for the flight. I can’t pinpoint the reason, but it irritated the hell out of me and wanted bad things to happen to her.

The other thing about the flight was the damn frenchie pilot thought he was Maverick and kept pulling tight ass turns at low altitude and low speeds. I’m not excessively nervous on flights, but the dude seemed a little crazy to me and didn’t exactly put me at ease. At least he was funny. I think. He would come on the intercom and make his announcement (in French) and everyone would crack up. Unfortunately, my one year of college French wasn’t up to par and I missed all the good stuff.

I landed in Paris and then took the Air France bus into the city. My initial stay in Paris was short lived though, as I was only there long enough to get to the train station and over to Normandy. The bus dropped us off right near the Arc de Triomphe and I began my walk to the St. Lazare train station. I underestimated the length of the walk though and, to make things worse, it started to pour down. I eventually made it though, soaked to the bone, and a short time later I settled into my seat.

I sat and re-read the relevant parts of Stephen Ambrose’s “D-Day” to prepare for my tour the next couple of days. When we got to Caen, they announced that we had to wait for another train which was running late and needed to make a connection with us. We sat for over an hour before heading off again. The other train never did come. I should also mention what my schedule was like. I didn’t even land in Paris until after 6PM. My train didn’t depart from Paris until 9PM (which isn’t as bad as it sounds, it took about an hour and a half to actually get into Paris from the airport – with the luggage collection and all – and another half hour to walk to the train station. That left me with an hour to eat and get sorted out at the train station). The journey to Bayeux was supposed to take two and a half hours but add a one hour delay to that. By the time I actually arrived in Bayeux, it was half past midnight and there were no buses or taxis to speak of. I had to navigate using my guide book map but still had to walk to my hotel which was a little bit of a way removed from where I was. By the time I did make it to my hotel, it was well past 1AM and dark and deserted. I rang the doorbell: no response. Rang again: nothing. I walked to the next hotel over (they appeared connected) and rang there: no answer. Bayeux is a small town and even in big European cities like Munich practically shut down after 10PM so I was fucked. As I was resigning myself to sleeping outdoors somewhere and losing a night’s payment for the hotel (which I’d booked online), I noticed the door to an adjoining restaurant was cracked so I made my way in and must have created enough of a disturbance that someone actually came down and checked me in. Word.

Monday, April 30th

I had to be at a certain place at a certain time to meet up with my D-Day tour group. That means I had to wake up early and wander over to said place. Before doing that, however, I stopped in a little supermarket to buy some breakfast and water. After chowing down and heading over to Place de Quebec to meet the group and we were on our way.

Our first stop was a little known place called Angoville au Plain. Angoville was near one of the 101st Airborn Division’s drop zones and the church in the village was used as an aid station for wounded soldiers. The two medics, Kenneth Moore and Robert Wright also treated wounded citizens and even a couple of wounded Germans. They worked straight through for three days, treated over 80 wounded and only lost two. The chuch is still as it was over sixty years ago and, believe it or not, the blood stains on the pew are still visible. It was a touching human interest story and a good start to our tour. The citizens of Angoville are so grateful for what Moore and Wright did that they’ve put up some monuments and even two stained glass windows commemorating their work.

Afterwards, we headed off to St. Mere Eglise; a town made famous by many D-Day movies. We visited the paratrooper museum there and got to tour the church were Pvt. Steele landed on (and got stuck on) the steeple.

Our next stop was a short drive away, at a little hamlet called La Fiere. La Fiere was another airborn drop zone – this time for the 82nd. It was also the site of some of the heaviest casualties suffered by American troops. As a matter of fact, the cost in casualties per yard of territory won was the highest in the entire war. The battle for the bridge at La Fiere was the basis of the “last stand” bridge at the end of Saving Private Ryan.


Our next stop was Utah Beach. While we were on the beach, we received a full briefing on the assault plans and the way the battle for the beach unfolded. Afterward, we visited the museum and a couple of bunkers that are sprinkled throughout the area. I took some pics and collected a sand sample and then we were off again.

The next stop was hedgerow territory and the Pratt memorial. Pratt was a general that was killed in a glider crash – another event that was portrayed in Saving Private Ryan.

We moved on to St. Come-du-Mont and the incredible story of Joseph Beyrle. Beyrle was an ass-kicking paratrooper that had dropped in before D-Day a couple of times to help the French resistance. He did another combat jump on D-Day and completed some sabotage missions before being taken prisoner. He escaped but was captured again. He escaped again and headed east, hoping to run into the Russians. When he found them, he was so intent on killing Germans that he fought for an extended period of time with the Russian Army. In the meantime, he had been reported killed in action and his family had even held funeral services for him before Marshal Zhukov signed his papers allowing him to re-join the US Army.

The last stop on the tour was the little known town of Graignes. A force of paratroopers landed near Graignes, far away from where their actual drop zones were supposed to be. They had reports that a Waffen SS division was operating in the area so they blew up a bridge and decided to put up a fight in Graignes. The town’s citizens were asked for help and they put the matter to a vote: either they could help the Americans as liberators or refuse to cooperate knowing that an elite SS division would probably rout the small band of Americans and then punish the citizens for providing assistance. The town’s people voted unanimously to help the Americans. The paratroopers, despite their numerical disadvantage, inflicted heaving casualties against the counter-attacking Germans and managed to hold them off for a few days. After a while, however, the Germans broke the resistance forcing the few Americans that were left to retreat through a marsh, leaving behind the wounded and the citizens of Graignes. The SS, slaughtered the wounded paratroopers, the town’s two priests and many of the town’s people for good measure. The town was so badly damaged that only three building remained and after the war, the few survivors just picked up and moved their town, leaving the original Graignes as a memorial.

After that, we drove back to Bayeux and I had a chance to explore that city a little bit. I also got to see the Bayeux Tapestry, an embroidered cloth that’s 210 feet long, nearly a thousand years old and tells the tale of William the Conqueror’s exploits. Then, after a long couple of days, I went to sleep early to prepare for part two of my D-Day tour.