Three Abbeys and a Wedding

We left Rouen on Thursday for the event that inspired the whole trip, our niece Ariana's wedding to Florent. It is not a long drive from Rouen to Cisai Saint-Aubin, the hamlet in which we were staying for the wedding -  109 km, about 1 and 1/2 hours, you would think. This being France, however, it took a whole day. There was an abbey or two on the way. Jumièges, on the 'route des anciennes abbayes' (don`t you love a country that has a `route des anciennes abbayes?!), was our first stop. It is a ruin now, rising high against the sky.

Its towers are 50 metres tall. (How did they manage 

that, in the 11th century?)

Romanesque nave. The abbey was founded ca. 654, 

burnt by the Vikings (they did a lot of burning)

and rebuilt. The existing building 

was inaugurated in 1067 by William the Conqueror

We wandered through the grounds admiring the vaulted ceilings and carved creatures and enjoying the peace.

note remnants of paint on vaulted ceiling and below

David and Nicholas deep in conversation

We wandered out to the town around 2:00  to find something to eat. It turns out that lunch in Normandy is at 12:00, and not a bite was now to be had. This was fine for me, as I am partial to carrots and crackers, but it was slim pickings for the men. Nevertheless, off we went to another abbey, Le Bec Hellouin. It too was founded in the 11th century; from it Anselm went to England to become, eventually, the Archbishop of Canterbury. This abbey, too, is beautiful, and it is still in operation. Its monks keep bees, and make hand-painted faience earthenware.

Founded on the river Bec by the knight Herluin (hence "Hellouin"), 

who was "suddenly struck with devotion," the abbey's site says,

it became an important centre of learning under Lanfranc (1045),

from which emerged in 1067 Anselm. Both became archbishops of Canterbury.

The abbey is found in one of the prettiest villages in France - which has that official designation: "un des plus beaux villages de France."

a nod to Canterbury

Finally we arrived, rather peckish, at the third abbey and our destination: The Wedding! It was the most beautiful destination of all: a radiant bride, a dashing groom, family together.

Ariana and Florent in the wedding car

Ariana and Flo with Ariana's family

Ariana and Florent were married in the church in which Flo's parents and grandparents were married, and then we all drove in procession to the abbey ruins for the wedding dinner.

Outside the church with Meaghan and Mitchell

at the reception: the cousins

Ariana's new family shared with us Canadians a warm welcome and amazing food.

The *second* cocktail hour

and dinner is served

cutting the cake. 

The dancing started at midnight. The fun went on till 5:30 am. Some

of the cousins closed out the dance floor. We did not!

For the Sunday brunch each family had brought cheeses of their region, some of them from their own farms, and you have never seen such a spread of fromages, great wedges of Morbier from near the Swiss Alps, Pont L'Éveque from Normandy, rounds of Camembert, Roquefort blue, bleu d'Auvergne, and more great wedges of Comté and some other hard cheeses whose names I have, tragically, forgotten. They shared with us their own home-brewed cider and "Calva," or Calvados, Normandy's prized apple liquor (Flo's father told us it had been aged 25 years in oak barrels and refined so that it was no longer 60 proof but merely 40 proof), their love of dancing (at one point the whole French contingent broke into a line dance, and they all knew all the steps, from the teens to the most elderly), and lots of laughter. 

They shared, too, the beauty of the place: the reception was in the ruins of the Abbey of St Evroult Notre Dame du Bois (which was home to a famed scriptorium and Ordéric Vital, a lad who arrived at the Abbey from England in 1085 aged 10 and became the Abbey's chronicler, writing one of the most important histories, the Abbey notes say, of the 12th century.)

Our only picture, somehow, of the existing Abbey

In the ruins at the reception

One of the best moments came at the very end. We don't speak much French, and Flo's family doesn't speak much English. We'd done a lot of smiling and feasting and dancing together, but conversation not so much. As brunch was winding down on Sunday (concluding with the cheeses and about 50 desserts) one of Flo's aunts, the one who brought the Morbier cheese, asked us how we liked it, and we started talking. And we kept talking, our kids and David and I with her, and then two more aunts joined us, and then another and another, and we had a hilarious conversation about everything from cheese to Trump to being an in-law (the aunts, who were smart and tiny and hilarious, and who had all married into Florent`s family, said, "You know what the French call us, the in-laws? Pièces apportées! But we say we are `valeur ajoutée.` Value added. I couldn't agree more.) We were all so pleased to get to know each other across the miles and languages. "Only connect!" E. M. Forster had it right.

Connecting was the theme for the whole weekend. We stayed that weekend at a country home nearby, in the hamlet of Cisai St Aubin (where, it turns out, Florent's father grew up). It was a beautiful place, and our host, Jean-Francois, as genial a man as you could hope to meet. 

Domaine des Thomins

Camembert and local cider on the terrasse

Jean-Francois served up marvelous breakfasts and dinners for all his guests together, cornucopias of food, nine courses that first night for dinner along with hours and hours of conversation. We met an English couple from London (she had been a Press photographer in Zimbabwe in the years of civil conflict and had harrowing stories to tell), a German family, a couple from Montpellier in the area for a baptism. It was great for our French! And it was a kind of communion. The last morning as we were sharing breakfast with the Germans and the couple from Montpellier -- for once the common language was French -- the Frenchman said (because again Trump and his territorial ambitions had come up, as it does when people find out we are from Canada), `This is what it should be like: here we are, Germans and French and Canadians, from our different countries, respecting each other, speaking together. This is peace.`

His words stuck with me, in this country where an old battlefield lies around every corner, and war`s destruction is real, written on the land. As we were driving home from Juno and Omaha beaches on Tuesday (stay tuned for David`s next blog) we passed a gorgeous old church in a little town called Colleville sur Mer.

Then we saw the picture on the church wall. This (below) is what the church looked like on June 6, 1944.

Ariana`s wedding; conversation with aunts and strangers around a breakfast table: it was a beautiful weekend because the bride and groom were radiant, and also because it was a time of hope, family together, a new family beginning, and friendship offered in a land scarred by war. 

And the sun agreed: it shone all weekend!