October 21
Nothing like a simple French Continental breakfast at our four star hotel: grand and petite croissants with fresh butter and an assortment of local jams, fresh squeezed orange juice, coffee, scrambled eggs, ham and sausages, toast, and assortments of pastries, French bread, cereal, milk, dried fruit, nuts, fresh fruit, hazel nut chocolate spread—I’m sure I forgot something.
Our first stop was the convent of St. Bernadette. We entered the Novitiate area and read some quotes from her, then we visited the gift shop and museum. By 10:30 we were headed northwest towards Chartres. Clouds with a light rain is the weather du jour. Barbara and I are trying to trace our route on a map of France while the other pilgrims view a DVD of the Cure d’Ars. I keep my translation device handy to search for the English equivalents for the French signs. Rolling hills with patches of hardwood trees trying to change to fall colors remind me of rural New Jersey near Newton. After a while I spot our highway on the map. Occasionally we see abandoned, crumbling, stone barns and houses then small complexes of newer farm houses and barns. It was jarring to see tagging on the side of overpasses even in the remote areas. At one point we were following the Loire River where the dry white Loire wine, Sancerre, is produced. That shoots down the New Jersey analogy. This is the Aire de Vignobles (area of vineyards). In the distance we can see the gigantic smoking stacks of a nuclear power plant. We entered a toll road (peage). Then we passed a sign on the right saying Aire du Sequoia, ironically, as we passed the nuclear power plant’s smoke stacks belching white steam on our left. We left the Loire River behind as we went directly north through open, flat land like the Sacramento Valley getting closer to Paris. Large signs in brown and white featured pictures of nearby quaint villages and medieval castles which we were missing on the freeway.
For lunch, we stopped at an Autogrill built across the freeway. A hot (haut) dog on a French bread bun with a Coca-Cola Light and a chocolate cookie was a perfect lunch with a fascinating view of the freeway. Now we’d have energy and room for dinner later.
As we started back down the freeway, Javier announced that his mother, Maria Catalina, had survived her cancer surgery. The tumor was removed with no indication that it had metathesized. We prayed a second rosary in thanksgiving. Javier gave Fr. Frank a big hug for leading us in the Joyful Mysteries for his mother.
It was grey and pouring rain as we turned west around 2:00. I couldn’t read the freeway signs through the rain drops on the windshield. Skirting the suburbs of Paris, we were nearing Chartres. After we passed near Rambouillet (home of Rambo?), we saw the spires of the Chartres Cathedral on the horizon.
Fr. Frank said Mass in the crypt near an ancient well.
We were beneath the Cathedral. It was like entering a time warp before the Cathedral was built, complete with musty, dank air for the proper atmosphere. After Mass, we had a tour by a Hindu woman who was more knowledgeable about the Bible and the Church than many Catholics. She told the history of the architecture and stories about the windows and the guilds that donated them.
By 5:45 we were back in the bus headed toward Lisieux in Normandy not far from the site of the D-Day invasion near Ste-Mere Eglise. As we left Chartres, we went north towards Dreux. The rain clouds had lifted and the sun glared in a final blaze before setting. Just as we seemed to pick up speed we hit another roundabout with signs to everywhere then to another straight stretch of road. This cycle continued for many miles until the road turned into a straight, monotonous freeway skirted with vast flat newly plowed fields. It reminded you of driving on Highway 99.
Darkness took over as I saw the first sign to Lisieux. It was 7:00, and some members of our pilgrim group were getting hungry. We pulled into Lisieux around 8:30 and could see the massive Basilica of St. Therese lit up on a hill, then the monastery nearby our hotel, the Grand Hotel de l’Esperance. After another four star dinner, we sought some rest. I couldn’t sleep because of an overload of sugar from the mound of whipped cream, sherbet, ice cream, and berries that we had for dessert. The battery on this laptop only has about 8 minutes left, I’m finally getting sleepy, and Barbara is snoring. Time for bed.