Friday night in a town of 4100

Wow, it must really suck to be a teenager or young adult in a small town. I was in pontorson the last two nights and as charming as it was, Friday night there was absolutely nothing going on. It looked like there was one bar with 3 people in it, the kebab stand was of course open and had another three people, but otherwise the most happening place seemed to be a room up on the second floor of a building nex to the church -- somebody's apartment of course. Both nights when I walked by it sounded like the sounds of a party eminating from the window -- mainly loud music. As I was walking back to the camp grounds where I stayed last night, I caught a glimpse of a guy with a mohawk all spiked up in the room. I guess all you can really do in a small town is have your friends over and party at home. In a town of that few, I'm sure everybody who saw me on the street new I was an out of towner. I kind of regret spending my friday night there, but when I woke up in the morning I didn't really feel like packing up, then spending the day seeing Mont St Michel without knowing when I'd make it back, or where I'd go. St Michel was pretty impressive, but didn't really take more than two hours to see -- plus the 20 minute bike ride up. I was tempted to thumb it -- I imagine that might have been an easy way to meet some people to spend the day there with. It was good to be on a bike again though -- even if it wasn't in the best shape and a bit small for my size.
I took a good number of pictures (for me that is) at Mont St Michel and I'll make sure to upload them and whatever else I took in Paris when I get a chance. Mont St Michel is basically a little mountain/island off the northern coast of france. One of it's big claims to fame is that it's located in the area where europe experiences the largest tides. Lonely planet said the difference between low and hi tide can at times reach 15 meters. Somehow I'm tempted to think that was a mistake on their part. In Rouen when I was looking at the tide charts, it looked more like they were citing numbers during the full moon of 115. I'm not sure what the units are -- I'm pretty sure they're more than centimeters, but at decimeters that would only be 11 and a half meters. However, maybe a little further along the coast they get even bigger and maybe when you get the perfect combination of moon, sun, and whatever that third thing is that affects the tide then it would reach 15 meters. Unfortunately, I was there during the half moon, so rather than seeing it during the grande mari, I saw it during the small one which was only a few meters difference between high and low tide.
So depending on the tides, St Michel is either a mountain or an island. There's an elevated road that you can take out even during high tide, but at low tide you can walk out along the sea floor. One of my pictures is of a boat marooned ashore which at high tide would be floating in water.
Aside from wandering around the streets, I did pay to go all the way up and take the abbey tour. When I walked into the first room, a service was taking place. I sat down and listened to a nun reading the gospel (or some other lesson) in french. Then the choir sang. The accoustics were impressive -- the harmony of vocal ensemble resonated off the massive stone walls and the whole place just filled with a beautiful sound. Later I noticed speakers all along the wall and I couldn't help but wonder if some of that "resonance" I heard was achieved with the assistance of loudspeakers, or if the speakers were only used for the man (or woman) on the pulpit. I found it amusing that they actually painted the speakers so that they'd blend into the stone wall better.
Other than that I didn't do too much in Pontorson. When I arrived I tried to check in at the hostel which my travel guide said was open year round. Not quite so... I couldn't tell if the closed sign meant permanently, or just until 6, so I walked nextdoor to the camp ground and asked at the reception. She called somewhere to ask and let me know that they were in fact closed for the season. I said I didn't have a tent, but asked if she had any cabins for rent. She said a small chalet was 25 euros a night, but since she didn't have any, she'd give me a larger one at the same rate. I imagine I could have found something a little cheaper in town, but this was only a little more than my bed in paris had been, so I was suffering from psychological tolerance of price inflation and the location was convenient, I took it. The "chalet" was really just a trailer, so for those of you who recall my fantasy of living in a trailer park, I finally got to experience a little slice of that heaven =)
The one down side to the cabin was that it wasn't heated (as far as I could figure out anyway) and the night did get pretty cold. This was the first opportunity I had to really put my sleeping bag to the test and I wasn't disappointed at all.
The trailer included two bedrooms, a kitchen, microwave, stove, coffee machine, sink, private shower, bathroom... Rather luxurious compared to some of the hostels -- in Paris I had to walk down two flights of stairs to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night... So I took advantage of the kitchen and spent the two days only dining in. Total grocery list:
1 cheap bottle of bordeaux
1 packet of smoked salmon
1 baguette (not impressed, it was cold when I bought it from the bakery)
1 circle of Fromage de Mont St Michel
1 can of ratatule
1 can of chick peas
1 can of spinach
1 can of ravioli
1 liter of milk

I also finally picked up a jar of nescafe to take with me so now I can easily have coffee any time. Last night as I was eating the can of spinach I felt a little bit like Popeye! I am what I am...
So although the room wasn't the cheapest, I ate well for cheap, and spending friday night in a small town definitely saved me some money...
In paris on the other hand I felt like I was hemoraging money. I didn't do aything particularly touristy -- I skipped the museums, the tower, the champs... Instead I guess you could say I did a bit of a literary tour of paris. The first day there I met two guys in my hostel room who were at the tail end of a three month tour of europe. One was a big Hemingway fan and wanted to see all the Heminway sites. As I'd just finished reading the Razor's Edge (thanks for the recommendation Sanya) which largely took place in Paris, I was myself interested in seeing some of the spots where the charaters spent their time. Montparnasse and Montmartre seemed to be the two big neighborhoods, and the first day I found Le Dome in Montparnasse where some of the characters were always bumping into each other. The second evening I had planned on going to la defense, but instead brought a bottle of wine, a warm baguette and some goat cheese back to the room and shared it with Mike and Codi. Then as it was getting late, I just went out with Mike to look for some of Hemingways old apartments.
The bars in Paris were ridiculously expensive, so we usually had a few drinks before going out and then mostly just walked around. The first night as we were walking back toward the hostel, a girl jumped out in the street and asked us if we wanted a free crepe. I'll admit, at first I was a bit apprehensive and thought she was just trying to run some scam. No thanks, that's all right. "Italian? Do you speak italian?" Mike tried a little. She explained that they had given it to her and she didn't want it. Then two of her friends came out of the bar and she said one of them spoke good english. At about that point it got to be clear she wasn't some gipsy trying to run a scam, she was just drunk and being friendly... We talked with them for a bit, and although nobody ever took the crepe (I have no idea what happened to it) we did decide to join them in the bar for a bit. I ended up talking to the girl who spoke good english, but mostly we spoke french -- very slow and basic french! I did my best to explain why I was there, where I'd been, how I'd spent five days in rouen trying to learn a little french. She asked how much french I'd studied and I said just the five days. I was flattered that she was impressed by how much I'd picked up in that short amount of time. Unfortunately I think I've forgotten a lot of it already...
Mike and Codi left before me but I continued to practice my french until the last minute when I had to run back to beat the 2am curfew back at the hostel. I hate curfews! When I got back everybody applauded my successful return and they let about ten of us sit around on the street by the entrance for an extra 20 minutes before making us come in.
The next night was Codi's Birthday and after searching for Hemingway's apartments, we went back to the hostel for a few drinks and then wandered around the town with three german girls and I'm really not sure how many bottles of wine. Somehow whenever we finished one, Codi or Mike seemed to have another in his pocket (actually, the phrase "up his sleeve" would be appropriate in this case as that was the night I snuck a few bottles into the hostel by hiding them up my sleeve...).
That night we just wandered around the streets, but the next morning we were all a bit tired after all the wine we'd drank, so wednesday we went to the gardens together but then split up. I wandered over to la defense -- I have a feeling I walked a good 10 miles that day! I think it took about two hours to get from the opera to la defense, and that was at a quick pace. By the time I got there I was pretty tired so I just sat around and enjoyed the view. I decided not to go up the grand arche, but the view from the steps was still nice. I got back to the hostel around 9 and we went out one last time -- although after the previous night I decided to stick mostly to water and orange juice.
So that was paris. Nothing special, but definitely fun. I could see where it would be a nice place to live for a few months and I could see going back again some other time for a longer stay -- in a cheap apartment with no curfew! One thing I'll say about France in general is that as much as I may have criticized it in the past for being isolationistic, it is actually refreshing to spend some time in a country that hasn't become to commercialized with western culture.
So now I'm on my way to bordeaux. I'll be stopping in Paris for an hour before connecting to another train for Bordeaux. Crap, I just realized my train arrives in Gare St Lazare rather than Montparnasse where my next train leaves from so I won't have as much time to grab some food and relax.... Oh well. At least the metro is always fast and reliable.
Au revoir