Normandy

Normandy is beautiful countryside.

Our trip was amazing.

It's strange saying that, given the nature of what we went there to see.

It's almost impossible to imagine what went on there 71 years ago. But we tried. Just to be there is completely humbling.

I don't remember feeling much of anything when I learned about D-Day and World War II in school. In fact, I don't really even remember when I learned about it, what grade I was in or any of the details. As we walked from site to site and museum to museum, reading story after story of what really went on, I thought how terrible it is that I didn't feel emotional about anything that happened until I was standing right on the Normandy landing sites at age 30.

As I got older and saw my brother going through ROTC and what he was preparing to do in the wake of 9/11, I developed a deeper appreciation for our military and eventually my own desire to serve my country. But as we walked through the Normandy American Cemetery the morning before we drove back to Calais, after 2 days of absorbing what D-Day REALLY meant for the U.S., Europe and really the world, I listened to a French tour guide explain to a group of young American kids the importance of what the U.S. military fought for and defended during that time, that the freedoms and values we have today were protected by them and why we must always remember what they did, and tears rolled down my face. It was powerful. This French woman had such a deep appreciation for that day and that War and our country. And I felt like I had never appreciated any of it nearly as much, until I was standing in the middle of the American Cemetery.

Normandy American Cemetery. There are 9.400 graves there, out of 407,000 U.S. military who died during WW2.

That might sound strange. I'm patriotic. I was in the military. I miss serving my country. My husband is in the military. I completely support the military and appreciate all that they do. There are so many ways to support the military, whether it is monetarily, through volunteer groups, serving yourself or being that supportive spouse, family member or friend. But I realized for me that is the *easy* part. All the brave ones who are gone...it's those who we must make ourselves remember and think about. Of course we don't forget about those who we knew personally or are connected to in some way, but every life lost is so very important and I know I do not think about that often enough. After this trip, that became clear to me. I felt everything very deeply that weekend.   

Every soldier who gave their life deserves our remembrance on a more individual level. Every unknown and missing solider has a name and loved ones without closure and they deserve our remembrance on a more individual level, not only as a collective group we call POW/MIA. 

The blood that was shed for liberation is absolutely astounding.

The steps we walked from Omaha Beach up to the Cemetery

Can you imagine this beautiful water as the 'Bloody Omaha?' It's so incredibly sad. But don't we owe it to our men to remember when it wasn't so beautiful?

We had lovely French hosts at a home on Omaha Beach. Emmanuel served us a fresh, delicious breakfast at whatever time we chose both mornings. He talked with us and helped us make the most of our time, gave us a book of information to reference and treated us like friends when he made us a reservation at the nice local restaurant down the street. We went back there for dinner the second night and I think the staff were pleased we enjoyed Normandy and dining with them so much, giving us some Calvados on the house :) Everyone we met was so friendly.

Here are my trip pictures on Flickr. I wanted to capture everywhere we went, and even some of what I read. So sometimes there are pictures with a lot of words that you would have to zoom in to read, but you might find some of it interesting. Even all the information on landing vehicles, trucks and tanks starts painting a picture of just how massive the operation was. 

This trip was one of my favorites ever, and I know that it probably always will be. It made an impact on me that I will be forever grateful for. 

Anne Frank House

After searching for tickets a couple weeks before our trip and finding that there were 'No tickets available' to the Anne Frank House for the rest of April, but also after learning that more tickets regularly become available for the 'day of' or next couple days, I knew I might eventually find myself in a situation where I was frantically and/or obsessively reloading the ticket page to find tickets.

Yes, that day came when we were on the ferry from Harwich to the Hook of Holland. The wifi was just existent enough for me to see that more tickets became available for that day and the next 2 days, but so unbelievably slow that I was never able to purchase tickets. After 7 hours of trying, I almost gave up on the idea of getting them at all and decided I would just have to come back to Amsterdam.

It was really important to me to see this historical location.

2 days later, I was able to purchase 2 tickets for that evening from my phone while we were walking around Amsterdam. I was so relieved. I don't know....how can you enjoy all of Amsterdam without stopping to honor the horrific experience and incredible spirit of Anne Frank?

During what felt like a solid day of agony trying to get the tickets, I sort of stopped to think why this was so important to me. Memories of my childhood came flooding back.....to when I learned about Anne Frank, and built a model house with all the furniture for school. I don't know what grade it was; so many of the unimportant details are fuzzy. But some of the emotions I felt learning about her incredible experience definitely stuck with me. I have to say as an adult who has witnessed even more evil in the world since, her experience was no less tragic to think about or relive as I walked through the house. To be walking through the secret annex where they hid from evil for so many years was just so powerful.

My heart sank. Some tears fell. This was one of the quotes in the first room we walked through.

 "The time will come when we'll be people again....."

Incredible. Incredible that the Jews were in the situation that they were; that she recognized the injustice at her age, and that she believed in a better way of life & was brave enough to write about it. Writing can be so powerful, for the reader and, I would argue, even more so for the writer. As I went through the museum and learned about the role that writing played in her life, I could really relate.

Her father, after reading her diary (after her death)- 
"....and my conclusion is, as I had been in very very good terms with Anna, is that most parents don't know really, their children."

My heart broke for Anne and her father when I heard this. You can spill on to paper what you just can't put into words for even those closest people in your life. I know this.  

During the darkest times, she shared her deepest and darkest feelings in her diary, that she planned on eventually turning into a book. Writing kept her from going crazy, when all she wanted to do was sing and dance and enjoy the outdoors.  

The tulips are beautiful. The canals are gorgeous. The cheese is delicious. The trip was amazing. But Anne Frank really kept things in perspective.

Sometimes I feel like I'm participating in one big 3-year travel competition while living here. It's easy to start feeling like you "aren't doing enough" compared to others, because everyone's travels are always in your face, quite frankly. While we love to travel and would like to see as much as possible, I try to always be mindful of how fortunate we are to get to do the things we do and see the places we see. There will always be more. 'More' is not a good measuring stick.

Going through the Anne Frank House is just one of those experiences that makes you truly appreciate freedom & all of the joy we get to experience every day, no matter where we live or how much or little we travel. Just getting tickets for the experience made me feel more at ease for the rest of the trip and made me stop worrying about what we were going to see and do, because what could be more significant? I felt so fortunate just to be there.

Anne Frank, your spirit certainly lives on. You are amazing!

London, Baby!

So I always say 'London, Baby!' because of Joey on Friends. But apparently there is actually a site, the London Baby, for babies in London. While I'm here, providing my thoughts & info...there ya go.

After Ely, the place I've been to most in England/Europe is London. Why not actually start blogging about my experiences and start with the first place we visited when we moved here. Until I actually start a glamorous travel blog, I will catch up here. Travel week on the blog.

Ahhh, London. I think I'm in love. But can we just hook up on weekends? I like living in a small town.

I've now been 6 times and each time I got a little more comfortable. After the first trip, I knew not to hit a local commuter in the knee with your gigantic touristy suitcase when getting on the tube, even if it WAS an accident. *If looks could kill.* Hey, that's part of the deal when you're in a big city on the subway. So the next time, I was a little more calm, cool and collected. NBD. 

Since then, I've mostly observed that your time on the tube can be quite entertaining and most people are pretty nice. By the third or fourth trip, I knew that the Piccadilly line was my favorite line to ride, for the location of the stops but ALSO to hear "this is a Piccadilly line to Cockfosters." With the accent.  Even though I don't get it, I learned that "Gloucester" is actually pronounced "Glouster." I learned that at the expense of getting laughed at by the Ely train station ticket lady who couldn't figure out where I wanted to go until I finally spelled it. That is just an example of many words I don't know how to say. But with each trip, this huge city stopped feeling so huge. The tube is easy and there is SO much food to eat. And after 2 shows (Phantom of the Opera and The Commitments), I want to see them all.

Our second trip to London was about 5 months after we moved here, and even by then it sort of felt like home a little bit. You know me...I have many homes. But when I'm there, I kind of feel like I could be in any big city (except, of course, there is the unique AWESOMENESS of London). And that means I could be in the U.S. Or anywhere. Very international. But it felt less overwhelming than the first trip, and more like a camouflage blanket wrapped around me :) I didn't stand out as an American like in our little town of Ely. Don't get me wrong, plenty of love for Ely, but ya know sometimes just blending in without effort is nice, ha. 

Some favorite attractions/areas:
Churchill War Rooms: How is it not cool to check out a wartime bunker and the areas where people worked while bombs hit London above?

Westminster Abbey: Did you know that Sir Isaac Newton, Charles Darwin, Charles Dickens and C.S. Lewis are buried there? Among loads of other famous and/or cool people. 
 

Hyde Park: So much peaceful space. So much space to run!

 

Favorite food:
The variety of food in London is amazing! There are plenty of traditional pubs EVERYWHERE in England so when I find myself in London I tend to want to get my hands on some other stuff. However, we have eaten at a few pubs there and this one was great!

Buckingham Arms

Tortilla: Dave and I found this place on Trafalgar Square during our first trip to London. We were sort of scoping out Chipotle but getting all turned around even Rick Steves was not helping. Yelp pointed us in the right direction on this one and we've gone back twice since. Seriously made me forget about Chipotle.

California-style burrito and a Sierra Nevada. Cowabunga?!

La Polenteria: Narrowed in on this one while searching for Gluten-free options with a friend. Like Polenta? Yum. All I gotta say.

Honest Burger: Not sure what to say except....maybe my favorite burger ever. At least top 3.  And the rosemary salted chips. Couldn't stop, didn't stop.

Feast your eyes on that special.

Serpentine Bar & Kitchen:  People can get a pizza or burger anywhere, okay? They come to Serpentine for the ambiance :) Beautiful spot to eat high quality food in Hyde Park.

So there is my quick wrap of my mouth-watering feelings on London. Love walking around, love the vibe. Here is a collection of my touristy London photos thus far. This love affair...TBC.  

Can't forget Big Ben (fun fact: the tower is known as the Elizabeth Tower; Big Ben is the clock)
 

Pure Michigan vs. Ely. There is room for both.

We've been in England for 6 months now. It is our new home. Current home? I don't know. What does home mean? :)

Several weeks ago in the midst of Spring, while some Summer temps started creeping in, I was walking to the grocery store in the evening and got a whiff of burning wood....like a campfire....where?! Where is it coming from?! Waves of sadness and nostalgia for Pure Michigan came over me...I swear I almost shed a tear.

For the most part, there is just too much to enjoy here to worry about not being there. But you can't escape the feelings that a campfire brings to the surface :) 

When I first wrote about our new home, we were definitely still the new Americans in town. We were sort of recognized at some of the places we frequented, but overall....I still felt like as much as I wanted to experience it, I just as badly wanted to get in and get out of places before I stood out too much. Before they knew!

But everyone is just so friendly here, that I started feeling more comfortable dropping the anxiety that my American accent gave me. When they realize you are an American (*gasp*), they just want to talk, hear your stories and welcome you. I have to say I love living in the country of our closest allies....where we have plenty of similarities and differences to discuss.

I decided to be more talkative and engage more in conversation when I was out and about. And what happened next was.....well, I turned into a Chatty Cathy. 

One particularly epic day, I chatted with the owner of the local chocolate shop about her haircut. I went back later that day and bought some marzipan and chocolate so I wasn't just known as the girl who used her for haircut advice :) I chatted with the gentleman at Mountain Hardware.....just about the weather, but still. And I really chatted up the ladies at the new delicatessen in town about cheese recommendations and all of their tasty-looking products. It was so much more fun being socially normal :)  The next day I talked to the kid working the checkout at Sainsbury's (my grocery store....that I'm in basically every day) about his studies at Cambridge & his Easter holiday.  I had no shame in asking him to help me out when he started using educational terms foreign to me....help out the American, I don't know what you're talking about. 

One day, I left my keys in the door...outside. They had been there a few hours before a nice lady knocked on the door and told me....I know, I'm lucky. But at the same time, I'm not surprised. We feel like we live in a very safe place. A couple weeks later, I was walking down the street back home and had the opportunity to inform someone about THEIR keys in the door.

This all probably sounds silly and miniscule. But, as each day and each week passed, I felt more and more at home.

By the time we were showing all of our visitors our favorite places to eat and drink in town in May, it felt so nice that we were known and greeted with such a friendly welcome everywhere we went. I've never felt such a strong sense of community anywhere I've lived (ok except maybe specifically on Zachary Dr. in Kansas:). I'm already sad for when we leave. 

A little over a week ago, we were at Peacock's  (the local "famous" tearoom across the street) with Dave's Mom and Step dad. As our normal server, who is from France, was inquiring about where they are from in the states, we learned that he really wants to visit Detroit. Yes, you read correctly.  A guy from France who lives in the UK really wants to visit Detroit. He is into photography, and has an interest in capturing the state of a place that is desperately holding onto its roots and trying to recover. He is interested in capturing the beauty of the Motor City. It's A Small World started playing in my head. I was very fascinated with his fascination and found it refreshing that he saw more than what the media portrays. It made me wonder what people over here see/hear about Detroit, and what made him seek out the deeper story. More to talk about next time. I have nothing but fond memories of visiting Detroit as a child, adolescent and adult...Tigers games, Red Wings games (um, also, Stanley Cup parades), Greektown, shows at the Fox Theater, the 4th of July fireworks, SEVERAL auto shows with my family...but can't say I always have the patience or willpower to defend it against people who only see one side of things: its current state, without looking at any of the history about why it was so important to the U.S. and what went wrong. It inspired me to watch the Anthony Bourdain Parts Unknown Detroit episode again.

So, here is my opportunity to tell you that the full episode is on Netflix and you should watch it, without shoving it in your face.  It doesn't go into the corruption of leadership over the years, but that is nicely summarized in plenty of articles on the web.

Here is a preview.

So, 2 of my many worlds collided that day.  I have several experiences and travels to write about since we've been here, but I guess I first had to mention the French guy who wants to visit Detroit.

This week, I also have my last 2 of 10 sessions for my Learn to Row course with the Isle of Ely Rowing Club.  It has been an awesome experience learning the sport, getting to know the locals who run the club and meeting other new rowers. I can't wait to join the club and look forward to Saturdays on the water. Fun fact: The first recorded races at the University of Cambridge were in 1827. The Detroit Boat Club was founded in 1839 and is the oldest continuously-operated rowing club in the U.S. Just a little something I learned while reading about the history of rowing. 

One of the many beautiful Saturdays I've had for rowing on the River Great Ouse

Last week, I realized that I now have little fear of the roads and the roundabouts. I decided at that point that it's official. I'm totally integrated. Home is on the left side of the road for now.

However, my mate who is from England just recently corrected me.....it's Beans ON Toast, not Beans and Toast. What is beans on toast, you ask? It's a British thing (or English thing?), and it's amazing, and it's exactly what it sounds like....I make sure to include mature British cheddar.  Wikipedia tells me it is also a British folk singer who sings about sex, drugs and politics. I still have so much to learn, but I'm proud to add Ely to my list of homes. 

It doesn't look like much....I know. Trust.

You have to use these beans.