Caen and Normandy

The train ride from Paris to Caen in Normandy was sweet because it was my first time on a TGV and they are pretty dang fast. The only trouble is I was a bit sick and really didn't feel like reading aloud parts of the Easter story like Devon wanted to. I felt bad about it, but my nasal cavties were feeling worse. We arrived in Caen and were picked up by Romain, a guy we had never met before whom Devon had arranged things with through a website called CouchSurfing. It sounds shady I know, but after looking into the website, it seems very legit and after our experience with Romain and I can tell you it is.
Romain didn't speak any English, so it was mostly up to Devon to talk and I said a few phrases. I could understand most of it, but had a hard time formulating my thoughts into a French sentence. He was such an energetic and exited young fellow who really seemed to enjoy showing us around Caen and it's chateau before dropping us off at the DDay Memorial museum. We spent most of the afternoon there going through exhibits and seeing little films, but we found that the bus service that runs from Caen to the invasion beaches were not running because it was Easter weekend. We left the memorial wondering how we would reach our ultimate goal, but tried to spend the evening enjoyed our time at Romain's little apartment. His girlfriend knew less English, but we got to know another couple who was staying with him- friend from when they used to live on a little island off of Madagascar. That had a little two year old son named Joharey who had an ear infection and despite crying now and then was a very happy and explorative little guy. Devon played some songs for them and we chatted a lot (or rather they chatted and I listened). It was a very fun evening and looking back, I don't remember it being in a different language- I still feel like I got to know them without that barrier.
The next morning we worried about how we might get to the beaches and so we mentioned our problem to Romain who promptly offered to drive us the 45 minutes to Omaha Beach and the American Cemetery. I could not believe the generosity! Not only had this man picked us up from the train station, drove us all over Caen, fed us dinner, took us in for the night, fed us breakfast and lunch, he drove us all the way to the beaches an back! What a guy! He didn't even expect a cent in payment, but we insisted on paying for the gas for the long drive.
The beach and the cemetery were very moving for me. Even the drive to the beach looked familiar from pictures and stories I have read. I've done a lot of study on Operation Overlord and this has been my one travel goal ever since... forever. It was so exciting to look out on the very sea that was once filled with the largest invasion fleet in the history of the world (even up til now), to stand on the beach whose waves were once red with blood, to look up on the bluffs that once hid thousands of Germans in Rommel's Atlantic Wall. I took a few rocks from Omaha Beach- a black heart shaped one, a red heart, and two other random reddish ones. The cemetery was the best though. I though a lot on this quote from the end of Ernie Pyle's book "Brave Men"

When we come across the dead men who gave everything for their buddies and for everyone back home, all we can do is pause and murmur quietly, "Thanks, buddy".

I took lots of pictures at the cemetery and even got one of the American flag with the sun behind it just like in the beginning of Saving Private Ryan. That one and the ones with the cross with the rose are my favorite pictures.
I was glad I was finally able to make it to the DDay beaches and I really enjoyed being able to tell the history to Devon and the others. We drove straight from the beaches to the Caen train station where we emabarked on the next part of our adventure- Devon's little town of Angers in the Loire Valley.

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