Well we’re on the road again. This time we’re traveling from the Chateau de Flottemanville near Cherbourg where we spent the last 2 nights to Villandry where we’re going to spend the next 2 nights and visit a couple more chateaux. Then we’ll turn in our rental car and take the train to Paris.
This road trip was very similar to the one we took from Amboise to Mont St. Michel, just in the opposite direction. Lots of gorgeous green meadows and trees, many happy cows, a rest stop every 10 to 15 miles on the freeway, down windy roads through the villages, and lots of those incredibly beautiful yellow fields. Never get tired of seeing those. Today’s trip was about 150 miles.
I’m just amazed at the beautiful gardens and mazes. I realize they are tended by professionals, but they are just incredible. The fact that you have picked a seemingly perfect time to be there is great too. Everything is in bloom and the colors are spectacular.
The architecture is great too. Loving the doors and archways and stained glass windows as well as the odd bits of furniture that I have no clue what they are…
I was really struck by the grave markers at Normandy as I guess everyone is. It is a beautiful place to be buried, but at what cost.
I loved the story the little innkeeper told about her dad. Not that he was shot, but that he was mistaken for a German. I can see how that might happen though. I’m glad she wasn’t bitter…lol
This is one of my favorite blogs so far. (I think I say that each time don’t I?) lol
I’m just amazed at the beautiful gardens and mazes. I realize they are tended by professionals, but they are just incredible. The fact that you have picked a seemingly perfect time to be there is great too. Everything is in bloom and the colors are spectacular.
The architecture is great too. Loving the doors and archways and stained glass windows as well as the odd bits of furniture that I have no clue what they are…
I was really struck by the grave markers at Normandy as I guess everyone is. It is a beautiful place to be buried, but at what cost.
I loved the story the little innkeeper told about her dad. Not that he was shot, but that he was mistaken for a German. I can see how that might happen though. I’m glad she wasn’t bitter…lol
This is one of my favorite blogs so far. (I think I say that each time don’t I?) lol
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