Lost opportunities and loves

Bayeux! Tapestries and medieval houses and cobbled streets and cider and an absolutely amazing place. It is so beautiful and quaint and I bugged Claire to death with my "Oh look at that" 's.

We arrived at night, and each step (despite the Luggage) showed something more wonderful to look at. On cobbled streets past gothic buildings. We finally got to the hostel, and by finally I mean we almost missed it because it looked so much like the other buildings, with an old hanging sign over the door. Bayeux hostel - the best one I have ever been to. We looked through the glass on the door, and there was a tiny little office with red wallpaper and venetian masks hanging on the wall. I suppose they are of the kind used in the medieval festival in July.
Our hostess eventually came, a large Norman lady who ushered us in, gave us a key almost before we'd paid and lead us through the gloom to our room. Off a central courtyard, it was on the first story up a winding set of stairs - and it was really not hard to pretend to be a princess in a tower.

The illusion was almost shattered when we explored some more and found the main street. It has neon lights like any other, pharmacies and bakeries and shops full of cheap clothes. So we went back to the hostel and found that the rooms at the top of the stairs had been sealed with the stamps of the city. It has to have been the plague.

The next day at breakfast we talked to two Quebecois and a Breton lady who was staying for a literary conference in Caen, who invited me to stay with her in St Malo. I wish I could have and I wish that I did, but the train from St Malo to Paris was far more expensive than I could afford and the French had provided us with a strike the next day - so it was either be stuck in Brittany or travel some more. Tant pis, and now that I have her number I'll try to see her again.

Then to see the Tapestry, a long, long, long strip of fabric showing little men bashing in the heads of other little men. The free audio guide takes you through the story (useful if you're not a Latin speaker) at a cracking pace, so we lingered and looked and went backwards and forwards and wondered about the characters in the borders.

We tried to see the war museum, but it was closed and Normandy had decided to give us a taste of the rain. We saw the cemetery instead, and the leaves on the ground were the colour of blood.