Up early. Do some light cleaning, just in case the check-er out-er didn't get the message, and enters the apartment with another key. Pack my lunch, and out the door for Montparnasse-Bienvenue, where I will catch the TGV to Rennes. Able to get there, obtain my ticket from the window, and find my seat in good time. Even validated my ticket like a seasoned traveller.
Beautiful French countryside whizzing by. Short nap. Arrived at Rennes, and found the Gare Routiere even though the directions were a little off. On arrival to MSM, hope to find the travel bureau straight off. If not, there will be lots of wandering. I have loaded as much pertinent info as I could,on the iPad, but I feel as if it's still not enough.
Got a simplistic map at the tourist office, and made my way to the top. There were a few museums on the way, but I told myself that I would see them on the way down. When I bought my ticket, it was to find that the English tour (free, 1hr 15mim) had started at 11:00. Bought my ticket anyway, and decided to come back at 14:00 for the next tour. Wandered around the periphery of the abbey, and found a shady spot to have my alfresco lunch. Then I got restless, and decided to go it alone, with an audio guide. I thought that since the were so many stairs, I'd better get cracking. Normally, I hate stairs. In fact, when I have only a floor or two to go, I generally take them two at a time to get it over and done with more quickly. However. With 900 steps, I thought that I'd better give myself plenty of time.
Wandered through the walled lower part, just in awe. Reached the tourism office, and found that the tour started just on the Grand Terrace on the other side of the chapel. Good thing I'd started early. I wandered through the rooms, listening to the audio guide, and hurried back, against the flow of tourists, until I returned to the terrace.
MSM is certainly a magical and mystical place. I can only imagine what it must have been like to cross the mudflats as a pilgrim. And to see the island surrounded by water prior to the building of the causeway? That would have been a fantastical experience. From the terrace, it was possible to see tiny people who had gone out onto the flats, hopefully with a guide, as I understand that there are some deaths each year due to people misjudging the tide, and getting stuck in quicksand.
Guide was wonderful, if somewhat a bit testy at the general noise level. She said that the construction work is projected to be finished in 2016. Then, it wil be possible to see the place as an island again.
Bought two watercolor pictures. One for me, in blues; one with sheep, for the beanie boys. Took a little moment to walk a bit on the mud flats. My initial intent was to dangle my feet in the nearest water. But the. I discovered how slick the mud was. Slick, and mushy, and thick. Suddenly I had a vision of slipping, and getting that mud all down my backside, and I found myself angling back toward the causeway. Nothing like a little anticipated humiliation to curtail adventures. Then again, I did have to spend a few minutes scraping the mud off of my sandals. I intend to throw the sandals away before going to the airport, but they've got to hand on until then. They? Me! I've got to hang onto them until them, and no mud was going to ruin it for me!
Four hours to get back to Paris. A long time for someone with a lot on her mind, as she contemplates leaving Paris, and returning to real life and responsibility. I was twitchy the entire way. Sometimes able to rest, but mostly watching the French countryside whizzing by.
When I get back to the apartment, it is to find that the checker has definitely been here. The blankets on the couch are in disarray, the things I had in the laundry are unceremoniously dumped on the floor, and towels are slightly out of place. To add injury to insult, Magalie said that he found the place very dirty, and suggested that I clean it up to avoid a cleaning fee. Silly, but my feelings were hurt. The thing is, I did straighten up, but also was rushing around to pack for the day out, and had some piles of things that I needed to repack after I returned. Anyway, I can imagine that the guy was frustrated that I wasn't there (having not received my email), but now I will always think of him as a jerk. Besides, if I didn't need to be there in the first place, it would have been very easy. He could have come Friday, when I would be virtually out of the apartment.
Things I would tell the agency that could be improved:
Have the second key available when I arrive, instead of making me return to the office to pick it up.
Have the apartment ready, with linens, on the day I arrive. Also, make sure that everything is in working order.
Have working Internet and cable.
A light above the stove, so that one can tell when food is properly cooked.
A towel rack in the washroom, to hand a hand towel
A shelf in the shower for soap, shampoo, etc.
Teaspoons
Cleaning supplies in the kitchen
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