Fine, Erin wins.

But only because I have to tell you about what a debacle this weekend was.

Sam and I had wanted to go to Normandy. We were planning on going Saturday, but we got an e-mail from BU telling us that the cultural event thing they had planned was mandatory, so we booked our train tickets for Sunday.

So Saturday morning we wake up and see that it is miserable and rainy outside. What a lovely day to go around with BU and take pictures! We debate skipping it, but the e-mail said "rain or shine" and Sam has too much of a conscience, so we trek out in the digusting weather to the meeting point. And there's no one there! We wait and we walk back and forth through the passageway we were supposed to meet in. Nope. No one. Awesome.

Sam and I are kind of really unhappy, but we find a cafe near L'Opera and get some wine and some fondant au chocolats. Then we catch a movie back at Montparnasse. Which was FABULOUS. Here's the trailer:



So Sunday, I wake up late. I must have hit the snooze button without realizing it. But so we kind of rush to the train station. When we get there, the ticket machines won't recognize our credit cards so we have to sprint to a ticket counter to get our billets printed out. We just barely make the train.

Once on the train, I realize that I have forgotten my 12-25 card, the one that gets you discounts. An hour and 45 minutes into the 2 hour train ride and the conductor hasn't checked tickets yet, so I think I'm in the clear. Not the case. With 10 minutes until we stop, he comes down the aisle and makes me pay an extra 25€. Awesome. When I get off the train and find Sam (who was one car behind me), she exclaims, "That's ridiculous! They didn't check our tickets at all!" Uber awesome.

But whatever. We're in Normandy! In Caen. We step out of the train station and look around the tiny town before us. We both declare that we love it here, and we go to buy day passes for the bus, like the Normandy tourism website recommended. Then we hop on and ride it to the office of tourism.

We decide that it's best to just ask the girls at the tourism office how we should go about getting to the cemetary and the beaches. Their reply? "It's Sunday. There's only one bus running. You can only get to this beach. And the bus only runs every 2 hours."

"Can we walk to the American cemetary?"

"No. It's many kilometers."

"Oh."

"...It's Sunday."

Sam and I realize that even if we are to take this bus, we have just missed the 11h25 one and now will have to wait 2 hours. So we find a restaurant and settle down for a long, hearty lunch.

We also pore1 over the maps and the schedules, trying to figure out a way we can possibly get up to where we want to go. We decide that are going to get there, no matter what the tourism women have said. We also decide to go back to the train station to ask for their advice.

After our long, relaxing lunch, we take an extremely long way through the market back to the train station. Once we get there, we ask the employees at the ticket counter how we can get up to the beaches. They tell us that there is a train that goes up to a town, Bayeux, that is closer to the beaches and that has a museum. We ask about a bus line that is going up to that town also, and they tell us to check out the bus station a few buildings over.

We head over to the bus station, but surprise! It's closed on Sundays! We finally find the schedules that are posted outside and eventually figure out that that bus isn't running either. So we head back to the train station, where we buy the train tickets to Bayeux.

After waiting for 20 minutes or so, we hop on the train and get to see some more of the lovely French countryside. I swear, train is my favorite way to travel. But the ride is only 15 minutes, and soon we're stepping off the train and looking at each other in horror.

"Where the hell are we?"

We are basically in the sticks. But we see signs for the war museum, so we follow them. It's a good 25 minute hike to the museum, but we got to see some cows, which was fun. We got to the museum around 2:45, I want to say. There were some tanks outside, so we felt better about ourselves, after having been in Normandy for over 3 hours and not seeing anything war related.


We entered the museum and before buying tickets, we asked if it was possible to get to the American cemetary.

"Oh yes!" was the reply.

Sam and I looked at each other in relief.

"You just take this road..." then the woman stopped. "You have a car, right?"

Fail. Was there any other way to get there?

"By cab..." was the cautious reply. "Would you like us to call one for you?"

Sam and I looked at each other. Did we want to stay here and look at the museum? The cemetery closes at 5. It's already almost 3. It'll take at least half an hour to get there. How much will it cost? OH WHAT THE HELL, WE CAME ALL THE WAY HERE.

"Sure, would you call one for us?"

45€ and half an hour later, we FINALLY get to the cemetery. As we step out of the cab, we see our first glimpse of the ocean and instantly decide that it was all worth it.

It was gorgeous. The beach was wonderful and gorgeous and the cemetery was moving and incredible. Nothing I can write will describe what being there is like, so I won't even try. You can see my pictures here.

We spent a good hour and a half there and then had to make our long trek back to the Bayeux train station and then back to Caen, where we grabbed some pizza before catching our train back to Paris.

It was a very long, frustrating and exhausting day, but the almost two hours we spent at the beach and the cemetery were incredible.