Day Five

Okay, I get it! Being prolific is an area in which I fail terribly, and I understand that. It's half because I am busy, and half because it takes anywhere from 5 minutes to 20 for one picture to load on my computer, and I just don't like waiting for that. It's my internet connection, and it has a horrible upload speed. Therefore, to save me some time, I'm down sizing my days starting with day 6.

DAY FIVE:

Today I woke up after a somewhat restless night. Throughout the night, I kept thinking it was later than it actually was, so I kept on waking up at obscene hours, at one time actually waking up my roommate. She forgave me, but I still felt bad.

I believe that breakfast was in a small restaurant upstairs. I had cereal, because there was no meat available, and an apple for the road. I regularly took apples from breakfast buffets to eat for later. Just getting my money's worth. As I was leaving to go downstairs, a French-speaking gentleman greeted me, and I greeted him back in French, and it is entirely possible that he never found out I was American, ha ha! Well, scratch that. The ever painfully obvious lanyard probably gave me away. But it was pleasant because he called me madame. Belgium is friendly, yet very professional, and I like it there.

We hopped on our bus to Bastogne. The trip would take about 2 hours, and I occupied myself by taking pictures through the bus-window, even though I didn't have a window seat.

Belgium-y area which I cannot identify.

A highway!

If these delightfully gray pictures fascinate you, the other ones I took during this particular journey will as well, because they all look the same as these two. It was a gray day in Belgium.

We arrived in Bastogne, now a pleasant and small town, but once the stage of the WWII Battle of the Bulge.We stopped by an oddly-shaped building that had glass walls at the bottom floor, and through the glass you could see staircases going down to a cafe like area. Our friendly tour-guide, who was also the oldest tour guide we would have, hopped on the bus and said hello.

"Hello!"

We didn't stay on our bus for long, however. Soon our tourguide had us out and to our first site -- a tank.

How cantankerious! ... The jokes need work, don't they?

This was a real tank used in the Battle of the Bulge, with its own battle scars...

After that, we hopped on the bus for a short ride to the General Patton memorial, where we discussed how Patton affected the war, and what he accomplished. Our tour guide was very interesting about it, and because he had experienced the battle himself you felt like you could take his word for what really happened. We took a few snapshots of the memorial, and then got on the bus for our next stop -- a church.

The church that we had visited had been a shelter during blitzkriegs and had been bombed multiple times. Since then, it has been rebuilt and stands proudly as a site of the town's bloody history. Our guide pointed out several interesting things about the church, such as an American flag that was painted on the ceiling when the church was built, out of gratitude for our help. I thought that was really neat.

We walked back to our bus.

Next stop was a large memorial that was a massive dedication to what American troops accomplished during WWII (With Bulge being particular) simply called Mardasson Hill. It was a giant five-pointed star engraved with each of the fifty states' names, and the top had a wonderful view of the country side.

Standing on the point with Indiana on it!

North Dakota delegation.

Walking here inspired a part of my journal entry later that day.

"I gained a whole new perspective on World War II, and how it affected everyone, and how those affects are still present in Bastogne. It almost seems like the city is dedicated to preserving the memory of the Battle of the Bulge, and what American troops did there in particular. I think that it's wonderful that the efforts of our country have not been forgotten."

We had a nice talk, but we couldn't stay long. Too many sites to see! This was the most enjoyable part of the tour, but the places I visited afterward held a lot more meaning to me.

Next we went to visit foxholes in a forest not too far from Mardasson Memorial. There, we learned about the typical life-style of a man who had to endure living in fox holes during the battle. Usually, there was one hole to two men, who would take shifts. One would try to sleep while the other looked for and fought off enemy soldiers. It's a terrible idea that was only considered mandatory back then. Some of the guys messed around and pretended they were soldiers. One guy grabbed a log and hoisted it like a bazooka.

I messed around too.

So yeah, it was a little fun, but it was sobering as well. Looking at those giant, mishapen holes in the ground brought so many images to my head that it was painful.

We headed for a German grave site next. . .It made me sad to the point of almost crying. I suppose this is the enemy we are talking about here, but let's face it, these were people. Literally most of them were young boys who had their lives cut short before they knew who they were, or what they even truly belived in. I don't have the right to pronounce who among the dead was evil, or had foul intentions, because for all I know, one of them could have wanted to be a doctor, or one was so caught up in the romance of war he didn't realize what he was into before it was too late.


After our tour we set off for Paris. The trip went rather quickly, until we got into Paris, where there is no such thing as a stop sign. Traffic was horrid. It took two hours to get to dinner, but I got a good view of the city along the way. In the distance I saw the Eiffel tower and got really excited. I was in the city of love and lights and really large art museums! So exciting.

Dinner was beef and potatoes at a cool little place called Auberge du Pere, and it was pretty good. Half way through dinner a good friend of mine accidentally spilled coke on me, and when I let out a startled yelp everyone in my delgation made sure to take the good time to turn around in their seats and "shhhh!" at me. . . It kind of hurt my feelings, since everyone else was being loud, but oh well I suppose.

We went to our hotel, which was a two hour drive too, called Relais de Chartreux. I'll get on that in the next day!

Well, that's the end of day five! What do you think?