Normandy 2011 - The Last Day

So, again the bell ringers woke the light sleepers of the NMBS again. But seeing this was the last day in Normandy and packing, breakfast and getting back to Nantes needed to be done, and early start was sensible. The lady who owned the gite turned up and as usual we had opted for the paying her 40 euros for the cleaning – although surprisingly we are a tidy bunch, so it’s possibly the easiest 40 euros she has ever made. A few grumbles over the fact that we used bed sheets – we did, but they were already on the bed, she was getting 40 euros for cleaning and Lance feigned daftness, together with her getting the left over food (she did well – we always buy too much) it seemed fair that we didn’t pay the extra for the sheets.

So we headed off back towards Nantes – and on the way we hoped to bob in the American Cemetery half way between Nantes and Normandy. The Brittany American Cemetery and Memorial (St. James) in France covers 28 acres of rolling farm country near the eastern edge of Brittany and contains the remains of 4,410 of our war dead, most of whom lost their lives in the Normandy and Brittany campaigns of 1944. Along the retaining wall of the memorial terrace are inscribed the names of 498 of the missing. Rosettes mark the names of those since recovered and identified.

The grey granite memorial, containing the chapel as well as two large operations maps with narratives and flags of our military services, overlooks the burial area. Stained glass and sculpture embellish the structure. The lookout platform of the tower, reached by 98 steps, affords a view of the stately pattern of the headstones, as well as of the peaceful surrounding countryside stretching northward to the sea and Mont St. Michel. The cemetery is located on the site of the temporary American St. James Cemetery, established on August 4, 1944 by the U.S. Third Army. It marks the point where the American forces made their breakthrough from the hedgerow country of Normandy into the plains of Brittany during the offensive around Avranches. Finding the place from the motorway is a bit of a nightmare.

We went to the town of St. James, drove through and carried on. A few miles later we asked a local if he knew where it was. “Non” was the reply, a back street garage did and we were heading back to St James and the Cemetery. It was a brief stop as we had to be back in Nantes and drop the “Stath” off at 2.30. But the 10 minutes we were there was worth the stop the chapel is very beautiful and as always with any American site it’s immaculate.

After a break at a services and a wee stop we reached the outskirts of Nantes. Again we had a nightmare finding a car wash, and after a near miss trying to put the Stath through a bog standard wash. If we had drove the Stath through it we would have ended up with a convertible! A few harsh sighs between Stuart and Lance and we were looking for a Jet Wash, Eagle eyed Steve found one and the Stath was spick and span.

Unfortunately the clock read 2.20 and we could not find where we were due to drop the Stath off. At 3.00 we found it and with a small white lie of being daft and English, lost and apologies for Agincourt, we dropped of the Stath and headed to the Hotel via a pub, that can only be best described as an old biddies living room. Think a snug circa 1968 and you are there.

And the old biddie actually served us. She must have been delirious as we down a few beers in quick succession (that was her profits up for the day) and we dropped off the bags at the Hotel – the one we stayed in first night and thank god, there was enough bed for people this time. A quick shower and change and we hit the City of Nantes again, well it was our last night.

Again, Nantes did not disappoint us with the plethora of women on view, a still silly amount (In 2004, the Time magazine described Nantes as "the most liveable city in Europe" and with the women on show the NMBS agree) and we sat in the Webb Ellis again – the owner was pleased to see us, which was nice and we had a few scoops with him.

Oddly and I mean very oddly, some strange looking French man decided to buy the NMBS a round. And a round in Nantes was around £20 – so a dear do for a bloke who didn’t even know us. When asking him and thanking him, all he could say in broken English was “God Bless, England” and “God Bless Queen Elizabeth” – well we did bless them and drank his beer. God Bless odd French bloke, we’d say.

We left the Webb Ellis and had a beer in a pub up the road. Lance decided to buy a round and Lance, is always a generous soul – more so when he’s tipsy, bought a very dear French Cherry beer and a normal beer for Kevin, Steve and Gerry and the same for himself with a whisky chaser – a round up there of about 30 euros. Luckily for Lance, Stuart had decided to have a power snooze and was back in the hotel “Hog Chew” ing (say it fast and repeat and that’s Stuart’s snore)

Around an hour later, Steve collected Stuart after his nap and it was decided to eat. The NMBS are absolutely dreadful at picking an eatery and ordering food. We look at the price a moan that 15 euros is too much and wander around looking for cheaper and we usually end up somewhere paying more and no where near as good as the first place we were at. We found an Indian, called not very uniquely The Taj Mahal” and ate there. The food was nice, but it defiantly was for a wimpy palate as it wasn’t very spicy. The Balti was as mild as a Korma and Stuart’s Biryani was very disappointing, Stuart always seems to get the pooey end of the stick when ordering food. And, yes you have guessed it – the bill was more than the 15 euros we quibbled about. After the Indian, Gerry and Lance wandered off – leaving Stuart, Steve and Kevin to try a Crepe – in a proper Crepe café.

Steve and Kevin had a Crepe with Rum and raisins and, my giddy aunt; there was rum in those crepes. Stuart ordered a Crepe with Chantilly cream and chocolate, and tried to order in French. The Waitress (and being Nantes, an attractive one) was rather surly and said to Stuart in perfect English, that he could try order in French or English as she could speak it very well. When she came back with the Crepe for Stuart there was no Chantilly cream. She claimed she didn’t understand him; again she was quite surly with him. Stuart finally got what he ordered.

The Waitress must have felt bad and came to apologise – asking Steve how we say Chantilly in English. Steve, as smooth as ever, quoted the song, “Chantilly Lace and a pretty face” pointing to her, which made her blush. One-One Score draw. So after meeting up with Gerry and Lance, a few more beers were consumed and quite sensibly for the NMBS, we decided to have a relatively early night. Gerry and lance headed to their room and Stuart, Steve and Kevin headed to theirs. Sat all tucked up in their beds, Stuart flicked through the TV and found the French equivalent of “Strictly come dancing” – called “Danse avec les stars”. Now to hear them it was only worth watching for the scantily clad ladies. But a few comments about arms not being straight or steps out of synch was disturbingly too much knowledge for three, big, sweaty arsed NMBS members, who were sat in bed, watching ballroom, like some bizarre Morecambe and Wise sketch. As Bruce would say – Keeeeep Dancing! The next morning, Steve was the first up, and both Kevin and Steve were plotting the death of Stuart. Poor ol’ Stuart had been up most the night being ill. Maybe it was his bad Biryani. Maybe it was too much Chantilly, but most of the night the sound of retching from the en suite had kept Steve and Kevin up. Both like their kip. Both were bears with heads sore. Both were grumpy and Stuart was within an inch of being murdered. After leaving the cases in the hotel (we had a few hours in Nantes to kill, and maybe if the tired two of Steve and Kevin had their way, Stuart to kill) we had a light breakfast and visited the sights of Nantes.

The Château des ducs de Bretagne (Castle of the Dukes of Brittany) is a large fortified château, it served as the centre of the historical province of Brittany until its separation in 1941. It is located on the right bank of the Loire, which formerly fed its ditches. It was the residence of the Dukes of Brittany between the 13th and 16th centuries, subsequently becoming the Breton residence of the French Monarchy. The castle has been listed as a monument historique by the French Ministry of Culture since 1862. Today the castle houses the Nantes History Museum. Steve had decided that he was “All Museumed out” and gave the place a miss. Instead he went for a coffee, and although it cost him 5 Euros, it was a damn fine coffee, and nothing like the Baldrick coffee at Café Rooservelt on Utah beach.

Soon the trip was over and we headed to the Airport. A short flight back (passing over wonderful views of London – like the opening credits of Eastenders) and that was that. Back in Manchester and over for another year.

Eastenders