After the Eiffel Tower, the next most recognizable
sight in all of France is the Merville of Mont Saint-Michel Abbey — a truly remarkable piece of
engineering that pre-dates the Gustave Effiel’s masterpiece by 600 years.
This famous citadel was
separated from the mainland by a causeway that would flood with the tides. Construction on Gothic Abbey began
in 1228 (although buildings on the rocky outcrop began in the 8th century) and it quickly became a pilgrimage
site for those seeking solace with Archangel Michael, the abbey’s protector. It was known as Mount in Peril
from the Sea because of the numbers of pilgrims who drowned trying to reach the abbey. Today, it’s more
likely camera toting blocking your way to the mount.
The foreboding silhouette
of Mont Saint-Michel can be seen from across the northern shore of Brittany and the southern shores of
Normandy. We glimpsed it from the toll motorways, from Saint-Malo, from Cancale — dozens of miles
away.
I have documented
Brittany’s independent roots in my two previous blogs, but it can really be found in the era of the audacious
building and fatal pilgrimages of Medieval Europe.
Our gite was near to the
impressively fortified city of Dinan, in the middle of Brittany. Today, its narrow cobbled streets,
overhanging buildings and flamboyantly gothic churches are effortlessly quaint. It’s a pleasant little city,
overlooking the River Rance, spanned by a wonderful viaduct. The Saint-Sauveur Church towers above everything
else. It also holds the remains of Bertrand du Guesclin, one of Brittany’s famous warriors, still revered 700
years later (for beating marauding English knight Thomas of Canterbury).
Medieval Brittany was a
dangerous, formidable place that has left its mark (it survived largely unscathed from Nazi attack) and
remains one of the most historically impressive regions of France — a place not short of historically
impressive sights.
We saw Mont Saint-Michel
almost two hours before we reached it very early one morning (travelling with a baby has some benefits). The
causeway now is a road open all year round and we were one of the first through the tremendous gates. We
climbed and climbed past bad restaurants and souvenir tacks just opening their shutters. Bottles and food had
to be delivered to restaurants by hand because the streets are too narrow and steep for vehicles. It was a
scene that had little changed. In the 21st century, as in the 12th Mont Saint-Michel was a destination for
pilgrims — then to worship Archangel Michel today, they worship with Canons and Nikons. But now, as
then, the bad restaurants and tourist tat would have been sold.
By the time I reach the
gates of the abbey (I have seen so many badly photoshopped postcards), I feel I know it well, but nothing
prepares you for the views from the top. The vast sandflats, occasionally doted with horseback riders, expand
to the horizon. The abbey itself is an architectural masterpiece, as understated inside as it is opulent from
afar.
I gaze from a look out
over Brittany. For a thousand years, its spirit has been beaten up, but never beaten down. Stickers on cars
are now the most visible sentiment for independence. Yet as unlikely it seems, Britain, across the channel,
is undergoing seismic changes to its makeup from its Celtic cousins, Wales, Scotland and we all know about
Ireland. I think perhaps Brittany is too integrated with France, but we will return for its food, its
architecture, its relaxed pace of life and some of the most atmospheric views in Europe.
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Brittany Blog Part
1
Brittany Blog Part
2
Photos by Daniel
Neilson
