World Tour

July 12 - Wednesday Arromanches to Volognes We were up early and on the road before the wind really picked up and the heat started rising. More rolling hills - my knees were talking to me. It's a pretty ride though not much shoulder to speak of for cycling. By mid morning we were within a few kilometers of the cemetary when we came up on a tiny little museum dedicated to Big Red 1 a division of the US army. What was interesting about the museum was the number of historical documents and, although small, the collection of WWII artifacts and a well detailed description of each piece. The guy that ran the museum was able to obtain what looked like nearly all of the miliatary belongings of the Big Red 1's chaplin which were in very good condition. He also had WWII artifacts that have been found as recently as last year along the Normandy beaches. There were helmets with single shots that likely came from snipers as the soldier came onto the beach. There were binders with hand written very detailed accounts of the of what D-Day was like for these men - Jon and I spent a long time going through these binders and reading the accounts. They were amazing, detailed and graphic. What impressed us is that the whole show appeared to be run by a young gentleman who was cleaning up what is sure to be another piece for the museum as we pulled up. There was a little history of the museum and pictures of this young man with the remaining members of the Big Red 1 division that was at D-Day. We both agreed that this was probably the best museum we had been to yet. We went the remaining few kilometer to the cemetary. There was a variety of languages being spoken in mostly hushed tones - it was a cemetary afterall. We asked the visitor's office director if we could park and lock our bikes a little closer than waaaaaay out in the parking lot where the rack was and she gave us the OK. The cemetary is beautiful and the lawns were as manicured as any chatueaux that we have visited. In the cemetary there is a huge, beautiful statue to memorialize those that were lost flanked by maps depicting where the fighting occurred. Behind the statue was rounded wall listing those missing in action with a few whose remains were found or identified at a later date. There was a walk that took you to an over look of Omaha beach. Looking at the beach, which is very beautiful with the green grassess edging the sand and the blue green of the English channel calmly lapping the shore. You'd never have guessed what happened right before you all those years ago. All of the crosses, perfectly aligned and pristine - it was incredibly powerful. We walked amongst the graves reading names, home towns, rank, division they belonged to and date of death. The sites were not in alphabetical order. On the grave stones of unknown soldiers they had what must be their dog tag number inscribed on the back of the marker. There is a small chapel with both the star of David and a cross inside. On the ceiling is the most stunning mosaic of the ocean, and an angel cradling a fallen soldier. There were arrangements and bouquets of flowers at some of the graves which we found very touching as we think it shows that this particular soldier is not forgotten. Really, all of the graves stones should have flowers on them. It was nearly mid afternoon and we still had at some kilometers to go before hitting camp. There were other museums we were interested in but time was running short on the day and quite frankly I was museum and memorial-ed out. We agreed to take the more direct route to Valognes where our campsite was and the train station that would take us to Cherbourg. It was another hot day in France and we arrived in town around 1700. We had laundry to do so after we checked in we decided to go to a laundromat and pay for the washing. I stayed with the clothes and bikes while Jon walked to the train station which was just around the corner. The washing was nearly done by the time he returned. We there were many trains throughout the day that we could take, the trouble was that we didn't know when the ferry ran from Cherbourg to Poole, so we decided earlier was safest. We loaded up our clean wet clothes and headed back to camp. We picked a site where the sun was still shining. The wind had died down which it always tends to do once we stop riding and Jon set up the clothes line. We had clothes in every imagineable place. On the line hanging off the handle bars, the back, and the pedals of both bikes. The wind did pick up again and started blowing hard enough to take the clothes right off the line. Sheesh - sometimes you just can't win. A very kind woman in a caravan across the path came over and, not speaking a word of english, offered us the use of her clothes pins. That was a life saver. Soon our clothes were dry and we were packing them away. It was a nice campsite and we had a view of a race course just on the other side of the fence and you could hear the hum of the motorway just beyond it. Jon made me a cup of coffe which was so thoughtful and totally appreciated. We had pasta and canned veggies for dinner I think and Nutella afterwards. We felt a little more relaxed knowing we were going to be on time with our agreed on date with Rory.