The monument at Omaha Beach as seen from inside a German bunker.
Hydra walking on the beach, toward the spot where he will collect some sand and pebbles. I hadn't realized how big the beach was, or how high the cliffs were that they immediatly had to get up to get to the bunkers. I didn't really get a shot that shows that. Here's a link to some historical photos.
Mom and I both found this tree terribly evocative.
The Normandy American Cemetery is nearby. More than 9,000 U.S. men and women are buried here.
This photo of one of the markers at the end of a row of crosses is probably my favorite from the day. It doesn't really mean anything out of context. As I stood there, though, I thought of the person who has travelled here to find the grave of the lover, brother, father who never made it home.
Drove from here to Paris, stopping in Bayeaux for lunch. Hydra is to be highly commended for keeping his cool when we accidentally got onto the Perifique Interior (inner ring road). The Arc d'Triumph was right in front of us!
Dropped the car, taxied in to our hotel in the 6th Arrondissment, and scrounged the local mini-markets for supper. It was a holiday Sunday, election day to boot, and nothing much was open.
We bought cheese, wine and the most taste-free toast/crackers known to humanity, which we ate in the room. Opened gifts that the fabulous Laweeez had given us. Notebooks and a pen for me, books for Hydra and amazing Griottines--morello cherries in liqueure--for Mom. I used the smallest notebook for notetaking the rest of the trip, and we dipped into the cherries the whole time, too!
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