We woke up and finished packing with little fanfare. Our Paris stopover between Disney and Mont St Michel had been so brief, we didn’t really unpack too much. Our train was scheduled to leave Gare Montparnasse at 8:54, and I thought we did a good job of getting ourselves where we needed to be in plenty of time to figure out the giant train station. When we got there though, we were dismayed to discover that our trip had been canceled. Huh. Bad weather I think was the reason.

We chatted with a couple of uniformed employees who gave us conflicting and (to us) uncertain advice. Oh, just take this later train. But how do I know we have seats on the later train? Oh here, you can take this other earlier train. But how do I know which connections will get me where I need to go? I tried logging onto the app I had used to buy the tickets (Rail Europe). It was of the opinion that I was already on my train and well on my way to my intended destination. Which is to say, it didn’t seem to have knowledge that the trip had been canceled.

Could we stay either at the hotel we had just left or the next AirBNB I had booked if we elected to skip all this and stay in Paris this evening (no)? The kids wanted to know what the plan was. Heck, we wanted to know what the plan was.

Eventually, we regrouped a little and talked to one more person to see if they could point us in the right direction. This employee took a little more time with us. He explained that our tickets would work on the (much) later train. No, we didn’t technically have seats on this train, but many of the seats are unassigned anyway. Plus, since it was so late in the day, it was less likely to be crowded with Mont St Michel tourists. We were skeptical, but it seemed like the best option (and also, we really did want to see it).

We puttered around the train station, because by this point we didn’t want to have to try to figure out how to store our bags and find something to do for an hour or two. Sean went and bought the kids McDonald’s and then he found an empanada joint and bought the grownups some lunch. And then, we waited till our 1:54p train was to leave. We found it with little problem, but having no idea if we were sitting in seats that were technically assigned to someone else caused us a lot of anxiety. We had found a table (like I had reserved on the canceled trip), but then moments later discovered the seats belonged to someone else.

Eventually we found a couple seats for the kids, but Sean and I kinda sat in the jump seats near the luggage area for a while till enough people exited the train that we could find seats to sit in. Would someone come by to claim these seats too? I guess we’d wait and see.

The ticket controllers did come through, and they verified that yes our morning tickets were good for this trip too, no problem. Our original fare included bus transfer from Pontorson station to Mont St Michel. That was no longer an option this late in the day, but the nice ticket controller explained to us there was another bus we could take and gave us that schedule (I had it anyway, because I thought it was the bus we’d use to get back to Pontorson station the next day.)

At long, long last, many hours later than we had originally planned, we walked into Mont St Michel, travel-weary but relieved. Even as tired as we were, seeing Mont St Michel loom in front of us as we rode the bus up to it was amazing. Getting out and completing our walk into town was epic. The tide was out, so we didn’t really get the “rising up from the sea” view, but it was by far the tallest thing around, so it stood command over the surroundings. The sea breeze was a bit crisp, which was delightful after our sweaty past couple days, and I think it helped perk all of us up a bit.

We had missed our 3:00 entrance to the famous abbey at the top of the mont by several hours (in fact it was essentially closed by the time we got there), but we thought we might explain the situation in the morning and see if they’d let us in.

I had contacted our hotel earlier to let them know that our train was canceled, and we’d be arriving later, so they had someone available to check us in (we arrived well after posted check-in hours). By this point, most of our dining options were closed, so we simply ate dinner in our hotel’s restaurant, which turned out to be … fine. Given our very late arrival and very short time the next day, had it been available, I’d have opted for a quick dinner. Alas, we had the typical French 1.5-2 hour experience. Luckily, we were very far north and the sun set pretty late.

I won’t lie, after dinner, it was nigh on magical walking around an all-but-empty Mont St Michel. Most of the shops were closed, but I at least am not a big shopper anyway. Wandering the relatively empty medieval streets was a good tradeoff in my opinion. Much to Maya and Ian’s delight, there were chatty seagulls everywhere. We were astonished at the variety of sounds they made. And we saw seagull chicks – a first for us. They were fluffy and gray and slightly speckled and blended in very nicely with the rooftops and nests.

Maya and Ian were ready for a change of scenery anyway. Here they could tromp up and down the streets and pretend they were in a Harry Potter movie. We wandered around for a good hour or so, even managing to catch the pink sun setting into the western sea (around 10:00).

We were hoping to catch interesting photos of Mont St Michel lit up at night, and from a distance, so we could get some of the sea around it. We went back to the hotel and fetched our jackets and started to head out.

We had noticed a gathering of some kind near the entrance to Mont St Michel, but we figured it was just a tour group and didn’t think much of it. And then they lit their torches. I haven’t been able to figure out just exactly what that was all about, but it seemed peaceful enough. They were marching away from the Mont, torches held high, possibly singing, I can’t remember. Maya, given her aversion to fire, was supremely unimpressed, so we boarded the parking shuttle bus and then exited again further away from the Mont. This was a lovely spot to gaze back at Mont St Michel, though there weren’t as many lights in the buildings as some photos had led us to believe there would be.

We doodled around long enough that the fire-bearers were getting closer and Maya panicked. We hopped on the shuttle bus again, thinking we would ride it out to the parking lot and then shuttle back to the Mont again, and we’d deftly avoid the people carrying torches and offending Maya’s sensibilities. I was trying to figure out how late the shuttle ran (till midnight during high season) but Maya was in a fizz, so we just ran for it and boarded before it left.

It stopped in the parking lot at 11. And that’s where it stayed. The driver explained to us they were done for the night. June, it turns out, is not in high season. We spent somewhere between 45 minutes and an hour hoofing it all the way from the parking lot back to our hotel. It was a pretty walk, especially once we got onto the bridge over to the island, but my tired and stress-weary body truly could have done without it. But hey, at least Maya didn’t have to suffer the torches.

We woke the next morning early enough to get all packed up and out the door with plenty of time to eat before the Abbaye du Mont St Michel opened at 9. Alas, nothing was open! It was nearly 8:30 or so before we found a place that would sell us a few pastries (and me a coffee). No worries, we plowed through our food while we got in line to beg entrance into the Abbey. Luckily, they sent us through ticketing and the kind people there issued us new tickets for that morning instead.

The Abbaye du Mont St Michel (Mont St Michel Abbey) has been around for hundreds of years. While the “legend of Mont St Michel” begins in the year 708 with the archangel Michael coming to Bishop Aubert in a dream and telling me to build a shrine to him, the church as it stands today began construction in 1023. It became a significant pilgrimage site thereafter.

Interestingly, it became a prison for a while from the 17th century to 1863. The website credits its use as a prison with having saved it from complete destruction, however, it did leave the site in bad shape. In 1874, it was declared a historical site and a period of restoration commenced, and continues today. From that time on, tourists have been welcomed at the site.

The Abbey is an amazing structure. I still laugh a little at how much of our time on Mont St Michel was spent looking upward. The way the Abbey is set up for tourist visits, there’s a very clear route that you walk through to see all the points of interest, and had we had more time, we’d have lingered longer. As it was, we looked through a goodly amount of the structure, and then had to kind of high tail it through the rest on our way to fetch our bags from the hotel and catch our bus back to the train station.

I do wish we had had more time to linger in the Abbey, but all in all, I thought our visit to Mont St Michel was pretty special. I’m glad we stayed overnight too. The original notion was that it would allow us to experience the site without the crowds. But it ultimately allowed us to avoid cancellation altogether. Thankfully, it is not a large place and could easily be traversed in the evening after dinner, and enjoyed again in the early morning light for a bit the next day.

In stark contrast to our travel to Mont St Michel the day prior, we had no trouble at all catching our bus to Pontorson Station, then taking our regional train from Pontorson to Rennes, and then finally getting to take the fancy high speed TGV train from Rennes back to Paris.

The is was our first TGV train and it was absolutely delightful. We had assigned seats at a table for four. The kids had wifi. We could power our devices. Sean and Ian went to the bar car and ordered food and sodas for all of us (it was fine, nothing to write home about, but definitely convenient). I had a window seat and was happy as a clam to watch the scenery zip by at speeds reportedly as high as 320 km per hour (around 200 miles per hour). About the time I could get the words, “Oh look, a castle!” out, the castle was already gone from view.

We were heading back for our last small jaunt through Paris. Maya especially, but probably all of us, appreciated having a break from the hustle and bustle, even if it wasn’t even for a full 24 hours. Ending that break with trouble-free transportation was just a bonus.