On these trips we visited Strasburg which has an operational locomotive from the early 1920's, the Jersey Shore, the Baltimore Aquarium, the Cleveland Zoo, and even the underground railroad of the Civil War. These sites are not necessarily available by interstate, but US routes offer easy access. So, when we began our trip from the American Cemetery at Omaha Beach in Normandy, France to Deauville, we had two options on the GPS to use. We could use the fastest time or the shortest route. There is a difference between each, but I was unaware of just how long that difference could be, given the functionality of the GPS we were using.
Most GPS units I have used will provide these different routes. However, in the states, the differences are significant because they seem to take into consideration that the shortest route is on roads with lower speed limits. In France, the GPS unit we were using did not do this, or at most, did not do it accurately. Sarah had requested we take the shortest route so we could see more of the French country and villages along the way to Deauville. Little did I know that the differences were more significant than we expected; lots different. The fastest time would be about an hour and a half. The shortest distance was actually about 4 hours.
As we left the American Cemetery, we saw a sign indicating there was a McDonald's nearby; 15 minute drive. It was 3:30p, and we were ravenous, so McD's seemed like a good quick stop. The last thing we wanted to do was get a typical french sandwich made on baguette because their cold cuts were lousy and the bread terribly crumby when eaten in the car. And I was not in the mood to sweep out this car before I returned it; though I probably could have simply turned it upside down and shaken the crumbs out onto the road for the pigeons to eat. So, we figured a small detour to McD's would be fine. We followed the road that said in 15 minutes we'd be at McDonald's, and we followed it and followed it. We went through a few circles, which I just really enjoy; sorta like organized chaos or reminiscent of driving in Paris. Just wen our hopes of finding a McD's had about run out, there was another sign just telling us a few more minutes to go. At the 4th sign we saw this, I began to think the French were screwing with us; they wanted us to simply visit more remote, and I mean remote, sections of France. Eventually we simply gave up and unfortunately, we were even more hungry, but now being angry helped squelched some of the hunger pains.
So we began following the "shortest" route to Deauville. One thing that struck me was that as we continued to follow the route, we encountered dozens of really small towns along the coastline that abuts the English Channel. We did encounter some very interesting homes and even what looked like some small villas and castles like the one shown in this posting. We also noticed that each town had a cross with Jesus on it as a monument at the beginning and ending of the town. I'm still not sure why these were there, but there were lots of them. And unlike the US where we have speed bumps, France has speed humps. These things come out of nowhere because they are not clearly marked with a different color paint. But if you hit these things at too fast a pace, as I did on the first one I encountered, you actually begin to fly. I could feel the steering become mushy when I hit the first one. It was scary, really scary.
So we were traveling through beach resort towns where dogs were being walked in the middle of the street, surf boards were being ushered across streets, and bathers of all ages simply waddled across the roads without a care for oncoming traffic. And everywhere we went there were cyclists on the road. No helmets, no padding, very little distinguishing characteristics, other than being in the middle of the road traveling 3 to 5 km/hr and annoying. In one incident, there was a mother walking her children home; two boys ages approximately 6 and 10. What startled us was the 6 year old was naked; stark naked. Sarah's interest was piqued, but was then turned off when she realized the boy was not circumcised. But seeing this in public was even more odd, but evidently French don't usually care about such things.
In one little village, the main route was completely torn up at the curbs for some sort of plumbing being done. That made getting through this town so difficult, I felt like a rat caught inside a maze. We went up and down various streets, both forward and backward, until we found a way out. If you ever saw "Groundhog Day" with Bill Murray, that's how I felt; I felt like I was never going to get out of this little village. And the locals were more angry that I was going up and down various streets which was clear when I asked for directions and basically received the "read between the lines" gesture. Gotta love those French.
Eventually we did make it to Deauville, but the day, which started in Rennes with a visit to the American Cemetery at Omaha Beach and a slow ride to the city was not the strangest part nor end of the day. To see what happens next, check out "Wee-Woo". So if you like driving back roads, be prepared for anything in France. At least in the US, there's all sorts of places to relax along US routes. In France, there's no place to poop or pee, and finding a place to eat is not necessarily all that easy. By the way, as we progressed through the small towns to Deauville, we did stumble across a McDonald's. The food was much better, but the staff less knowledgable. I know, how could that be possible? In France, they do not have a quarter pounder. From their perspective, why would you eat that much meat. Instead they do have the Big & Tasty, but it's called the Royal Deluxe and is very good. I simply had hamburgers and fries. Oh yeah, they don't serve French fries; you're in France. They are simply called frites, or fries, a rather confusing interchange with the staff resolved that issue.
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