So, I took a little vacation from my vacation by getting away from the hustle n bustle of the big city and headed to a place full of old people and families on vacation. Saint-Malo. A small town on the coast of Brittany. My first night, I ate this...
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| Yummm! |
And saw this....
And the next day I headed to Mont Saint Michel. Now, you may think that it's a super touristy place and who would want to go to something so cliche, but you are a dummy and should shuttup. It's a beautiful sight. And I know I was just poopooing going inside cathedrals, but monasteries can be a nice break, because they're creepy empty, vast, and the architecture has the ability to shine on not just the outside, but the inside too.
The origin story is batty as hell. Basically, St. Aubert was commanded by the Archangel Michael to build a monastery on this hunk of rock in the bay in his honor. But Aubert ignored the decries of the ego-maniacal figment of his imagination. Dear old "Who is like God" didn't take to kindly to this, so he burned a hole in Aubert's fucking skull with his thumb. Aubert finally got the message.
Build me a house of worship (to ME) or I'll turn your head into a bowling ball.
Ain't God grand?
And now old dudes park their old cars in front of it. Amen.
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