Mont St. Michel

About five hours' drive west-northwest of Paris lies the small island of Mont St. Michel. I went by myself on a (very long but very worth it) day tour at the end of October there.

The island sits in a bay about one kilometer off the western coast of the province of Normandy. It has been inhabited since at least the 6th century AD when it was used as a stronghold and fortress by Gallo-Roman peoples until it was overtaken by the Franks (back then the island was known as "Mont Tombe").

Today the island is capped by an abbey that has stood there in some form or another for approximately 1300 years. The story goes that the Archangel Michael (Michel in French) appeared to the bishop of Avranches, Aubert (who would later become St. Aubert), and instructed him to build a church on the island. Aubert, suspicious that this vision may perhaps be Satan in the guise of Michael, was at first reluctant to obey (although if the Devil is going to impersonate an Archangel, you've gotta ask yourself why he would take advantage of that guise to order a bishop to build a Christian church, of all things). Aubert was finally convinced when Michael appeared to him a second time and, as punishment for his doubt, burned a hole in the bishop's head with his finger (obviously a basic litmus test for proving that you're really an Archangel, I'm sure).

Since that time the island and its abbey have withstood the Hundred Years' War (where the English failed to capture it) and remained a very popular pilgrimage site up through the French Revolution (by that time there were hardly any monks left in the monastery). After the revolution it was converted into a prison to hold clerics who opposed the new republican regime, but was restored to its original function after protests (joined by the likes of Victor Hugo, even) in 1863. The island and its bay were declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1979.

Impressive, no?

Mont St. Michel's bay is also famous for its treacherous tides. There can be up to a 14 meter (46 feet) difference between the water levels at high tide and the water levels at low tide, and the tides can come in and out very fast. It used to be quite dangerous at certain times of the day to get to and from the island, as the original causeway connecting the island to the mainland would be covered up during high tide. A more modern causeway was erected in 1879, but because it's a solid causeway that does not allow for the water to flow underneath it, its presence has allowed silt to build up on the bottom of the bay. Thus when I was there I could see construction crews working on a giant project begun by the French government in 2006 (to be completed in 2015) to dredge the bottom of the bay and build a new causeway that will allow the water to freely flow under and around it. In fact, the tour guide informed us that if the government hadn't stepped in, within a few more decades the bay would have been completely filled in with silt, and Mont St. Michel would have ceased to be an island!

Unfortunately, this combined with the gray day means that the bay was hardly picturesque:

As of 2009, there were exactly 44 permanent residents on the island. There is one street and one street only, lined exclusively with restaurants and gift shops. You have to clamber your way up staircases in tiny alleyways to get to people's homes, and in the middle of it all is a tiny cemetery that is clearly running out of space.

The guide led my group up the main street (oh yes, also, everything is either an uphill walk or a downhill walk--there are absolutely no flat areas on this island) to the abbey. I honestly don't know how some people did it; I was worn out by the time we reached the top and I'm young and healthy and in pretty darn good shape. 

The view from the top of the street, but the bottom of the abbey.

So...many...stairs...

And at the top of those stairs, MORE STAIRS!

The gothic architecture of this place is very cool. The abbey didn't reach the exact way it looks today until the 19th century, but it's amazing to think of how old parts of the structure are.

The view looking down once we FINALLY reached to top of the stairs and were about to go into the actual church itself. There is a shuttle from the mainland that takes you as far as where the causeway starts to curve, then you gotta walk.

The French flag off to the right marks about where the entrance to the island lies. 

The church.

The inside of the church was rather disappointingly plain, I have to say.

The cloister.

The refectory, where the monks ate.

On the landing of the stairway leading down from the refectory are the pieces of a carved relief showing the moment Michael burns a hole in Bishop Aubert's skull.

One of the other main dining halls where guests of the abbey ate. I can't remember if it was this room that was reserved for the rich nobles who traveled here and the other dining room was for the regular poor pilgrims, or if it was the other way around...

Two of the massive fireplaces at the end of the hall. The opening of each one is probably around six feet tall.

The second dining room.

After our abbey tour, we had about an hour and a half to explore the island on our own, so I wandered down the single street and up into some of the alleys.

St. George slaying the dragon.

This place is seriously adorable. Somehow even though it has been completely taken over by gift shops and similar touristy-ness, there was something that felt so authentically medieval about it.

I especially loved how each shop and restaurant had an old-school decorative sign hanging out front. This is the one for the post office.

And you have to cross a real drawbridge to get in and out!