Standing Stones and Floating Abbeys

Standing Stones and Floating Abbeys
I had two absolute ‘must see’ venues for my Brittany journey – the Neolithic standing stones at Carnac in southwestern Brittany (cousins to Stonehenge, site of my wacky summer solstice pilgrimage in 2007), and the fantastical abbey-on-an-island of Mont St. Michel, the most visited destination in France outside of Paris. Happily, Anne-Marie’s equally omnivorous historical obsessions run a similar gamut to mine, and off we went to discover the Stone Age. I was imagining that Carnac was a ‘site’, like Stonehenge, with a single impressive set of stones in a single location. But then again, I did discover on my previous trip that Stonehenge is part of a large region stuffed with Neolithic marvels (Amesbury, Avebury, Silbury Hill, many many many barrows and mounds) so you’d think that I could imagine a similar situation in Brittany, especially since Anne-Marie kept stressing to me that we really needed to leave EARLY because there was a LOT of ground to cover. I blithely chose to believe she just meant the 2-3 hour drive to get there, and was totally unprepared to find that ‘Carnac’ is, in fact, just one stop in a HUGE region of increasingly astonishing Neolithic engineering triumphs that simply baffles the imagination and blows holes in any static perceptions you may have of grunting cavemen and such. The Carnac site consists of multiple parallel lines of stones that run through open fields on and off for about a MILE, thousands and thousands of stones aligned along a common axis AND increasing in size from one end to the other. Yikes. And since after the Carnac alignment and the Musee de Prehistoire in town there are enough additional sites in the region to occupy you for six or seven weeks, we had to choose our destinations very carefully. So off we went to the island cairn of Gavrinis, which is only a mile by sea from the Carnac region, but a 30 mile trip by road (note to self: no cars in the Neolithic) and a fifteen minute ferry ride to the island and worth every second of effort to get there. It’s a long rectangular underground stone burial and/or ritual chamber completely enclosed in a constructed mound; the verticals are about 5-6 ft high above ground and 4-5 feet wide; the main chamber is something like 8’x10’ and it is roofed with a SINGLE ginormous stone and here’s the kicker – almost all the stones are completely carved with patterns of lines and images. Amazing. Then back over the ferry, into the car, and off to visit several other sites including the Grand Menhir at Locmariaquer, which, when it was somehow transported and erected in 4500 BC stood some 60 ft tall, and weighed 280 tons. One stone. Sadly it is now lying on the ground in several parts, but yesterday we went to see another menhir in Dol de Bretagne (see pic) that is about half the size and totally astonishing and is the tallest single standing stone in France. Half the size of the Grand Menhir. 4500 BC.

What can I possibly say about Mont St. Michel that has not already been said in its long history as a pilgrimage and tourist destination? The abbey and surrounding walled town sits on a tiny island reached by a long causeway through an absolutely immense flood plain that is routinely flooded and drained by the second highest tides in the world (see Bay of Fundy for highest). Anne-Marie said she tries to schedule her guests’ visits to coincide with the highest tides at the full and new moons, but alas we missed that bit but it gives me a very good reason to come back. Anyway, after you walk up through a sort of Disneyesque row of restaurants and tourist junk shops and past the abbey lodgings and administrative offices you find yourself at the bottom of the first of many flights of stairs leading up to the abbey proper, and having bought a ticket you plunge into the endless winding corridors, halls, chapels, and stairways that lead eventually to the amazing church on the very very top of the mount. The terrace in front of the church offers a mind-boggling 240 degree view of the flood plain; I really can’t even describe this view and photos can’t begin to capture it. You’ll just have to go. We went in the evening – during the summer the abbey is open from 7pm to midnight, with spooky lighting and individual musicians placed strategically in the larger rooms playing medieval tunes on harpsichord, flute, viola, and harp. And with the sun setting around 10:30, you get to see the sweep of the landscape in daylight, and the magic of the electrified abbey as you come out. I’ve said it before, but – wow.

So I’ve managed to get caught up in real time, and in just a little while we leave Brittany for the island of Sark, by plane and ferry via Guernsey, in the Channel Islands. The day dawned cloudy, but now it is once again gorgeous and sunny and it should be just lovely out there in the English Channel. Stay tuned.