Caen to St. Lo: Fast forward by train into memories that aren't my own

August 6, 2014

It was pissing down in Caen when I awoke. Not entirely unexpected, but none-the -less a pain in the nether regions. A quick check of the train schedules and the weather reports showed that if I dallied in Caen, and caught the 11:10 to St. Lo, I might just avoid the major part of the rain, and indeed enjoy some sunshine. I got online and booked a hotel in St. Lo, so when I arrived I could dump my baggage and ride unencumbered for once. The train station in Caen is just downhill from the hotel I stayed at, so just about 10:00 I coasted down and bought a ticket. I had hoped that I might have some respite from the rain before I had to get on board, but that was not to be. I would have enjoyed seeing the ruins of the castle, but not in heavy rain with baggage, so,I waited in the station for departure time. Luck was with me, though, because the regional government had placed a piano in the station, and a very talented young pianist was playing Satie, Chopin, Beethoven, and some others I don't remember, which helped while away the time. The train was called just as the rain was letting up, so I got on board and took a seat after hanging my bike from one of the hooks provided.

Arrival in St. Lo was just before lunch, but having eaten a late breakfast, I was not very hungry. Instead I went in search of my hotel, and promptly got lost. The problem with large scale maps, and having the hotels sited for automobile traffic and not bicycles compounded the problem, but after an hours search, I fetched up at the proper address. Leaving the luggage behind, I rode the 8 km south to Condé sur Vire where I treated myself to a crepe with creme de marrons, chestnut cream crepes. I enjoyed that thoroughly, and left town in a fine mood. It threatened to rain, and at one point I even put the poncho on, but nothing ever came of it. I made my way over a couple of ridges to Balleroy, where I replenished my water supply. Then it was turn for home, back through the bocage and the forest of Cerisy. The front fender was rattling by then and I pulled off to tighten one of the screws holding it to the fork. The re-entry to St. Lo is via a long descent, and the hotel is found on the far side of the town after climbing back up. Pasta for dinner, and a light load of laundry,

St. Lo is the birthplace of William the Conquerer, AKA William the first of England. The citadel in the center of town is where he lived until he decided that he needed something bigger and moved to Caen, from where he decided that being a Duke wasn't good enough so he went off to jolly old England, thus being the last successful invader of that sceptered isle. The city remembers that, of course, but it remembers much more the invasion that came the other way, from England to Normandy in 1944. This year marks the 70th anniversary of the invasion, and the cities and villages of Normandy, particularly here near St. Lo, are all,decorated with French, British, Canadian, and American flags. Monuments to the fallen are everywhere. I had friends, of my father's generation to be sure, that were here for the invasion/liberation. I can't help but think of them being here. I wonder if a thousand years from now they will still be remembered, as old King Bill is a thousand years after his cross channel adventures, or if like the catholic leaguers at Arques la Batteile they will be a footnote in history. I won't ever know.

A talented pianist playing in the gare in Caen. I could have listened for hours, but her train was called just before mine.

More hydrangeas. The color depends on the acidity of the soil. Blue on acid soil, pink on alkaline.

Flags from my two countries on a bridge in St. Lo in remembrance of the 70th anniversary of liberation.

Reminders of the invasion and liberation are everywhere this year. A window in Condé sur Vire.

The road looks to be sunken, but its not. The hedges have collected soil over the centuries, and are built up more than a meter.

I saw this memorial on my return to St. Lo.

What could be more Norman than cows in an apple orchard?

Today's ride: 79 km (49 miles)
Total: 781 km (485 miles)

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