By DELL ARTHUR
The time spent at
Goodwood, England, was an adventure and thrill in itself. Flying off the grass
runway, as it has been kept since World War II, we climbed to altitude and
headed for France. Looking across the cloudless summer sky it was hard to
imagine that this same sky was the exact airspace that German and British
warplanes fought to the death. Looking down at the placid blue waters of the
English Channel one couldn’t help wonder about the hundreds of airmen, both
defender and enemy, who lie under the waters in immortalize sleep.
Our destination was Le
Havre, France. The flight was a relative short one and reaching the shores of
France I looked to the north and could see in the distance the beaches of
Normandy where on June 6, 1944, the allies invaded Europe. Le Havre at that
time was under German occupation and its port was used by the German Navy to
control both the channel and Atlantic Ocean. During the war the city was bombed
132 times by American and British bombers and the result reduced the city to
rubble. Over 5,000 Frenchmen and Nazis died as a result.
There was little aircraft
activity and the Le Havre-Octerville airport cleared us for landing. It was
exactly noon. Touching down we taxied to the customs area, parked the airplane
and entered the building. Reaching the customs office we rang a bell. No
answer. We waited a bit and rang again, still no answer. Finally someone came
by the office and we inquired about checking in with customs. The guy only stared
at us—he didn’t speak English. So, with a smile of indifference he wandered off
and we continued to wait.
Time passed so being
lunch time we went upstairs to the restaurant. Without question the sandwich I
ordered was the worst concoction I ever had the displeasure of eating! Anyone
who lauds French cooking would have had an argument with me! I wondered if this
was the same restaurant that provided food for the airlines.
With lunch finished we
returned to customs. Nobody there. We waited for an hour and nobody ever showed
up. Disgusted we returned to the airplane, fired up the engines and took off
for our destination, Macon. We never did check in with the French Customs and I
don’t know if they ever knew we landed there.
Macon is located in the
Burgundy area and about a two hour drive to Paris. It is a beautiful city of
over 35,000 people. I was billeted in a chateau serving as a “bread and breakfast”
about five miles out of town surrounded by some of the most beautiful pastoral
farming land imaginable. The building I
stayed at was over 400 years old and the original front door was still in use.
Compared to buildings on the east coast of the United States who brag about
some buildings being 300 years old the Europeans would consider these American
structures as “new construction!”
 |
| My "Bread and Breakfast" room upper right window Photo by Dell Arthur |
 |
| Customers enjoying a morning coffee Photo by Dell Arthur |
The history of the
community dates as back as the beginning of the first century. At that time it
was dominated by the Romans. As time passed Macon changed with the times and different
forms of government. As part of the French Revolution, Macon became prominent. It
is hard to understand the wars and deaths associated with this charming city
over its history. But the most horrific time was during the Second World War
when the Nazis occupied the territory. Walking down the cobblestone streets one
could picture German soldiers, armed with rifles, intimidating the population. Following
the Allied invasion the city was liberated on September 4, 1944.
But when the shops close
for the evening the streets become empty. Some restaurants remain open and it
was at one of these I met and became friends with the manager, a bald headed
muscular manager of about five feet, eight inches and solid built. It turned
out he was a Corsican who looked like a villain out of a James Bond movie.
Contrary to appearances he proved to be the perfect host. Now that I found a “favorite
restaurant” to visit I returned many times during my stay.
One of the most
impressive monuments is the Cathedral of Saint-Vincent. The Cathedral was built
in the early 1000’s and remains active to the present day. Walking through the
ancient church there are several tunnels and each has a small “side altar,” where
individual masses in the past centuries were said. But today Mass is a said exclusively
only in the main nave.
But it was getting dark
now and following a day of activity and flying it was time to retire to my
bread and breakfast and turn in for the night.
(to be continued)
No comments:
Post a Comment