Arras & Vimy Ridge - France

After a transfer through the chaotic mega-hub also known as Paris, I boarded a TGV train to Arras, a brief 45 minute trip of 175 (!) kilometres.

Arras is a large town of ~50,000 people. One of its primary distinctions - for Canadians and others - is that both world wars (and a few other wars before that) occurred in and around the town. The horror and destruction that one area of the world has seen begins to set in; there are signs for monuments and graveyards all around the area.

A view of the Arras town square:

 

Around 10 kilometres from Arras lies the Canadian National Vimy Memorial, paying tribute to those lost in the World War I battle that plays a large part into Canada's historic identity. Taking a taxi up the hill into the forest the view changes. Maple trees are planted in rows all along Rue du Canada as it winds its way up to the momument above. 

Much of the site has been preserved as it was when the war ended. It is an eerie sight seeing grass covered bomb craters throughout the entire forest, every metre of space was changed. A forest - now a 90 year old one - has sprouted over much of the landscape adding to the surreal view:

The facility is a strange slice of Canada in the French countryside: government of Canada seals are all around, bilingualism is back in-effect, and Maple Leaf flags are all around.

The monument features restored trenches of both the Canadian and German lines, giving a taste of how close the two sides often found themselves in all the chaos.

View of the Canadian trench from a German one:

The preserved trenches:

After the trenches it was a misty walk along the maple-lined avenue to the monument itself. This is the first sign - of many - warning not to cross the fence into the woods due to risk of live ordinance being buried. Only narrow strips of the battlefield were ever cleared:

The monument rests on the highest point along the ridge in a large clearing allowing for a lengthy, pensive approach:

It was a breathtaking site. The white marble stood solemnly against the overcast skies.

Some 3,600 Canadians died the day of the battle in what was one of Canada's most important victories. It's a disgusting thought to think of what kind of sick logic calls such death a victory.

Along the bottom of the monument lies some 11,000 of Canada's unidentified dead. Names of soldiers never found circle the entire structure:

The view of the east side of the monument:

A grave rests at the bottom with a cloaked woman towering above. The woman is the largest single piece of the entire monument; a single 30-tonne, 4-metre high block carved out as a sorrowful young woman, representing a very young Canada mourning her dead:

The final site of the memorial is a graveyard for some of the Canadian and Commonwealth forces that perished that day. It was very difficult to read the names - if the tombstones had them - and the ages of those killed. Many are younger than myself at 26 years:

I think what privilege I have been given to be born firstly in an era where travel to places like Vimy is possible; but also what privilege I have personally to have the means, ability and opportunity to travel like I am. I am very fortunate.

A trip to Europe would have meant a very different thing 100 years ago for the 26-year-old Canadians buried here.

 

It's terrible that we need such grand and magnificent monuments to remind ourselves of why such violence and horror is inexcusable. Until war and injustice - in all its forms - are rooted out of human life altogether, I think places like Vimy are crucially important.

Hopefully a time will come where we won't need a place like this.

 

Rennes & Mont St. Michel - A First Taste of France

I flew direct from Dublin to Rennes, the capital of Brittany in France. A quick two-hour flight by turbo-prop again highlighted the vastness of distance that Canadians are so accustomed to but is much less common here. Ireland May as well be across the Atlantic, it seems so much farther away than the rest of Europe and is so small it seems like it doesn't get much attention from citizen on the main continent.

Departing from sunny Ireland over Dublin. Travellers Note: this is not the preferred seat on turbo-prop aircraft. Very loud and rumbly, with a constant morbid suspicion that if the propeller failed you would be the first to notice as pieces of it flew through the window. I'm not the best at flying:

Rennes is a smaller city of around 200,000 with a tiny airport and one EU passport control officer for the entire crew. Ireland is outside border-less zone so you must enter customs when arriving.

Despite being a smaller city, Rennes was incredible. A full metro system, bike share and bus rapid transit from the airport. If that wasn't enough all buses come equipped with "time to next stop" and "time to departure" clocks. Every bus stop has live next bus times and all necessary information for fares and other routes.

Time to departure screen:

It is clear that every aspect of society is designed for regular people in mind. Transport is cheap, pedestrians are protected at every intersection with "islands" between the two-direction traffic, bus lanes and bike lanes have priority at every road throughout the city. Most spectacularly - and a theme of Europe overall - the entire inner city is permanently or mostly permanently restricted to pedestrian and bicycle traffic. This allows enormously successful and welcoming public spaces and squares that attract everyone in the city.

The main square. Think Tompkins Park on 17th Ave in Calgary, but only in a city of 200,000 and add about 20 times the activity of a regular night. Why can't we emulate this in Calgary?:

Bars, cafés and restaurants pack the streets in the squares. Children play in the middle of the square until well past sunset, even on a Friday night. Safely designed streets isn't even a question; it is so obviously engrained that no one would expect otherwise. There is no conflict here between cars, transit, bicycles and pedestrians. People come first. Always.

Rennes Opera House:

Now the touristy stuff . Mont St. Michel!

Who doesn't love a mideval abbey/castle built on a lone rock outcropping in the sea hundreds of years ago?

Beautiful view from the top:

And they even had something for the urban planning / transit nerds out there. Double-sided buses(!!!):

The driver simple switches to the other end and starts driving. France is shaping up fantastically so far: with history, ridiculous buses and incredible pedestrian infrastructure what could go wrong?