The Four Cs of Normandy include Camembert, cider, Calvados (apple brandy liqueur), and crème (cream sauces or crème brûlée). When we see “à la Normandy” on a menu we know it will be bathed in butter and cream. I understand my mission.
Sent from Ann's iPhone
With temperatures soaring we took to e-bikes in search of cooler coastal weather. We rode along the Gold and Juno D-Day beaches and took a swim in the English Channel but, even with that break, by the afternoon we all suffered from heat exhaustion and collapsed on the side of the road feeling the burn.
Sent from Ann's iPhone
We started our tour of the D-Day beaches and monuments at the center for history and peace in Caen and moved on to the American cemetery at Omaha Beach with 9000 marble headstones. The sculptured trees made me think of paratrooper parachutes. Our peaceful walk on Omaha Beach was such a stark contrast to the horrific deaths that happened there.
Sent from Ann's iPhone
Across France the solstice brings amateur musicians out onto the streets of every town. In our tiny town of Bayeux alone we saw and heard over a dozen bands. Everyone is urged to play music outside — in their neighborhoods, at cafes, or parks. No talent required. The Director of Music at the French Ministry of Culture discovered, in a 1982 study, that one young person out of two played a musical instrument. In a note-worthy move, he started the Fete de la Musique to bring music out onto the streets every summer solstice.
Sent from Ann's iPhone
A sweltering heat wave French fried us upon our arrival in Giverny and, combined with busloads of tourists, sucked the joy out of our visit to Monet’s House and Gardens. Even the water lilies were wilting. What a stroke of genius to Monet-ise the place. We brushed off any bad impressions when we finally found our friends and can begin our Normandy invasion adventure together.
Our ride ended in Koblenz, where the Mosel River joins the Rhine. The Germans call the confluence the Deutsches Eck, the German Corner. Before we turn the corner and head to France, we could knot resist a pretzel that reminded us of the twists and turns of the Mosel. I’ve already come up with a theme song for a return someday, “Towns to the left of me, vineyards to the right, here I am, back on the Mosel with you..🎶 ”
A ginger cat ran out to greet us on the bike trail foreshadowing our arrival at Zell where a big bubba black cat crossed our path. According to legend, three wine merchants were tasting wine to take back to Aachen and couldn’t decide which barrel of wine to buy. The winemaker’s black cat jumped up on one barrel and hissed at the merchants, fiercely defending the barrel. Seeing it as an omen, the merchants bought the whole barrel and bottled it with a drawing of a black cat with an arched back on the label. It was so popular that the merchants came back for more and more. The town trademarked the name Zeller Schwarze Katz for wine from this region and the rest is hiss-story. In Winningen, they remember the town’s witch hunts of the 17th century with a Weinhex (wine witch) who guards the cellars. Seems like they missed a good opportunity for their own spellbinding trademark. There’s always broom for improvement.
Sent from Ann's iPhone
