I was exhausted last night and didn't feel like writing too much about my weekend, and unfortunately I'm feeling the same way tonight. I just wanted to give a little update, let you know I'm okay (except for being sick after eating way too much sugar), and that I am not looking forward to going back to school tomorrow.
Quick synopsis of yesterday to be elaborated upon later:
After Omaha Beach, we went to Point du Hoc, where the American rangers landed. There were craters in the ground everywhere from bombings, and it reminded me of the time Jeff played dead in one of them. In order to keep up the Severn tradition of doing inappropriate things in serious places, therefore, I decided to take my clothes off and go swimming in the ocean at Utah Beach. It was actually the most amazing and wonderful part of my weekend, and I will always remember doing it. Obviously, going to places like the Normandy Beaches is moving and powerful (frappant, as the French would say), but running full speed into the ocean in the rain is incredible. Granted, the rest of my day was freezing cold and wet, but it was beyond worth it.
So after Utah Beach, we got back in the bus and went to another museum (in Carentan? Why can't I remember anything, even though it just happened yesterday?) where we saw the Saint Mere Eglise and its famous clocher. During World War Two, an American parachuter got stuck on the clocher (steeple) of the church, and pretended to be dead so that the Germans below wouldn't kill him. He was the only one who survived.
Naturally, inside the museum there, there were all kinds of letters and pictures of the American soldier, along with military equipment, weapons, signs in German (that Allie and I tried to read aloud), and a short film about the WWII history of the village (you would really think that I would know the name of it).
Okay, I promised a short recount of events, so I'm gonna get back to quickly and vaguely telling you what I did. We got back on the bus, got most of the sand off of my body, changed my clothes, and napped on the bus (probably after watching Allie act like a monkey and Ante dance to Lady Gaga) until we arrived at Mont Saint Michel. It was raining (of course), but it was still beautiful, and I was very happy to be there so that I could get some food and get some sleep. So, we got to the hotel, walked up approximately 8,000 stairs to get to my room, where I then walked up another 20 (yes, there was a staircase in my room. a staircase.) to get to my bed. I lay (laid? I need to look that one up. Merde - I'm losing my English skills) there until dinner, ate dinner, returned to my bed, and never left its side. I relaxed in bed until I fell asleep.
This morning, I woke up, showered, ate a very healthy breakfast of croissants (yes, multiple), cereal, yogurt, and orange juice (my diet starts tomorrow), and then put my stuff on the bus and started my ascent of Mont Saint Michel. Honestly, I think our tour guide took us on the bitch route, because there were NOT as many stairs as I remember. There are a few other explanations for this though. Number one: I am in better shape now than I was last time I did it (highly doubtful, considering I can count the number of times I have worked out since I've been here on one hand). Number Two: Mont-Saint-Michel isn't actually that high up (false). Number Three: I flew all the way up because I am a pterodactyl. Number Four: The fact that we stopped every 2 minutes to listen to the guide talk about something different made the trip seem way easier. I will let you decide which option you think is the most probable.
So anyway, we walked up Mont Saint Michel, took beaucoup de photos (typical), tried to understand what the guide was saying while suppressing yawns of exhaustion (not boredom - that doesn't come until museum #75948375, which we visited after Mont St. Michel), and then spend a weeks worth of lunch money on some food. Tourist attractions are NOT good for my wallet. Allie, Maddie, Emily M, and I all went to the beach during our free time (quicksand ahhh!) and acted like maniacs, sang Pocahontas, and ran into a tribe of the mysterious barefooted people of Mt St Michel.
After that, we all got back on the bus, and I slept until I was awoken for a food run to a gas station. This is where my downhill spiral truly began (hence the title of today's blog). But whatever - we loved it, now it's over, and tomorrow is a new day. Gahhh I miss Bikram.
So now, I'm back at the apartment, looking on Facebook in horror at some of the pictures from this weekend. Well, maybe not horror, but I do question my sanity when I look at a picture of me say, I don't know, being a pterodactyl or using Nutella as lipstick.
I am exhausted, so I'm going to go to bed now, but I promise to check back in tomorrow.
Bonne Nuit!
Love, Josie
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