St. Malo

So, it turns out I didn't go to Normandy after all this weekend, as I found out instantly from the wide-eyed stare of my host dad's mother when I told her how happy I was to be in Normandy. St. Malo, for those who care, is actually in Brittany (which is a big deal for the rather region-centric French - up until the Middle Ages Brittany, or Bretagne, had its own local language, Breton). While I was there, I spent my time at thouse of my host dad's mother. Jacques' Mother is one of those old wives of a french seaman who keeps a display of sabres and sailor gear in the dining room. She's going blind and likes to yell, and loved that I can eat more meat the average androgynous french young man.

There's a decent site on St. Malo over at Wikipedia to get a better feel for the town. The town functioned for a long time as an important guard against the English, which is easy to see when you're anywhere around the town. Numerous forts dot the islands aroung the town, some designed by the famous military architect Vauban. The fortifications, especially for a castle geek such as myself, provide plenty of a reason to visit. In fact, up until World War Two, the town was never taken, despite many Briths attempts to the contrary. One of their most famous involves turning an old warship into a powderkeg called the "Infernal Machine" and letting it loose against St. Malo. It was caught up in the rocks surrounding the city and never got close enough, exploding in a huge fireball which blew out many of the windows in St. Malo.

Also, thanks to host dad, who knows the curator of the Duchal Castle on one side of St. Malo, I got to go through a private tour of the off-limits ramparts of the castle. So damn cool. It really gives you a sense of how incredibly well-protected this city was.

Well, besides the swashbuckling adventures of the town and it's various offspring such as Jacques Cartier, there's also the beach. Don't forget the beach. St. Malo is right on the channel, and I spent a lot of my time when I wasn't on a bicycle zooming between fortifications taking in some salty air and dipping my toes gingerly in the water (I don't take well to cold water).