Mary Ann drove the Macks off to the airport and then returned for us.
We had a day before we were due at the Calais ferry, so we drove down to Mont St. Michael.
It was a pleasant drive through the country side, and then when we saw the place, it was immense. There is something about the sight of the place that touched something inside the mind.
Mary Ann had called ahead and found a room on the island itself, so we arrived and talked our way into the close parking lot. The room was much larger than what we had been used to in Paris and the girls were thrilled.
We walked up the mountain, totally built over with structures, and managed to get to the upper gardens. From above, we could see people out on the mud flats making a trek over to the neighboring island.
It was evening, and the mobs of tourists were down to a throng, and we found a nice place to eat. Note, mussels come in large quantities. We had that as an appetizer and the plate was stacked high with the two-inch black shellfish.
After dinner, we went out to the causeway to get some night shots of the place, and realized that the tide had come in, covering the mud flats and making the place an island again, except for the causeway.
Change of Schedule - Henry’s Stories has been on-line and regularly updated for almost two years now, with a mix of new and old stories -- some short and others novel length. ...
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