The Big Top

Now here are some words that I never thought I would write in my blog: Bill and I went to the circus.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen (or should I say, as did the ringmaster last night, mademoiselles and monsieurs), we spent our Friday evening in the little fishing village of Honfleur, France, inside a circus tent watching the Cirque Lavatta.

Bill loves the circus. This might be an unknown and surprising fact to everyone who knows Bill except for his children. Since I’ve known him, he has told me how very often when his kids were young he would get tickets to the Ringling Bros. circus. He would try to get the tickets early so that they could sit in the front row. One year, his kids even marched in the circus parade.

I, on the other hand, am not sure I have ever even been to a circus. Maybe once. But when Bill saw the circus tent set up as we walked into town for lunch, and saw the flyer that said (I presume, since it was in French) that the circus was in town, we were soooo going to the circus.

We got there early, and much to my surprise, the circus animals were grazing out in the open. I’m very serious. There were camels, zebra, a billy goat, and a bull all grazing out in the open where you could walk up and touch them (if you had the nerve, which I didn’t). Horses, donkeys, miniature horses, and llamas were in little pens, but were available to go up and pet. Even the three tigers, though they were, I’m happy to say, behind bars, were unattended so that anyone could go up and attempt to pet them through the bars. It was the craziest thing. It is certainly nothing you would see in the US.

About 45 minutes before the show, a man comes out of one of the trailers and walks out to the animals, followed by a little boy who looks just like him (clearly father and son). The little boy, who couldn’t have been more than 5 or 6 years old, proceeds to begin gathering the animals into the place where they would be kept for the show. He goes right into the pens of the horses and donkeys, puts a little harness on them, and walks them to the chosen spot. He does the same with the zebras.

There was only one ring, and it was quite small. The circus was a family affair, and the performers were also the ones who took the tickets, sold the popcorn and souvenirs, and walked you to your seats. The ringmaster spoke French, but as it turns out, you really don’t need to understand the language to enjoy the acts. After all, snapping a whip doesn’t sound different in France than in the US. You can cut a woman in half, juggle, hang from wires on the ceiling, and tame the tigers, horses, and a bull in any language. Even the clown could be understood. And the little 5-year-old boy who had herded the animals was dressed in a little circus costume and played trumpet, along with his daddy, as part of the act.

It was a fine and funny end to a very pleasant day in Normandy.

We got an early start from St. Malo, and beat the first tour buses to Mont Saint-Michel, a surrealistic-looking abbey that appears from afar to sit out in the middle of the ocean. In fact, there is a causeway that goes from land out to the abbey, but when the tide is high, the castle really does mostly sit out in the ocean. It is beautiful, especially before the little town around the abbey fills up with tourists. By time they buses arrived, we were already back on the road.

We got to Honfleur around noon. It was too early to check into our hotel, so we left our car and walked the mile into town. Honfleur is a pretty village that sits at about the point that the Seine River flows into the English Channel. It is a fishing village, and the fishing boats (and other boats) lined the harbor. The town was filled with happy tourists, many who sounded British.

During the month of August, many Europeans take their holiday. We had heard this, and it is definitely true. As we have driven down the autostradas the past couple days, we drove past cars full of vacationing gear, many pulling trailers or campers, many others with bikes on top of the car or behind the camper. We have read that the big cities, like Paris, will empty out so that the shop owners can spend August in a seaside resort. In fact, we will likely run into many closed stores and restaurants while visiting Paris.

We had lunch at a little café near the harbor. Bill decided to try a salad with the area specialty fois gras. I, once again, ate mussels and frites. The lunch was good, though we both decided the fois gras was a little too rich for our taste buds. And I must say, though I thought it was impossible, I’m not sure I can eat another mussel for a while.

We walked around the town for a bit before coming back to our hotel to check in and rest a bit before the greatest show on earth, French style.