When in Rennes

Rennes, France is not a household name. Not many people have heard of it, because it's not a very touristy place. So why were we headed there? Well, because that's where Evan's school is, and we figured he should probably show up for classes at some point.

The timing also worked out pretty well, because that Thursday was the fourth one in November, which for my non-American readers, is that greatest of food-centered holidays: Thanksgiving.

In fact, the first thing we did when we got to Rennes (before we even put down our luggage) was go grocery shopping for the Thanksgiving feast that Evan and one of his American friends had stepped up to host. We probably looked pretty ridiculous pushing two carts around the store, one of which was piled high with our backpacks, the other with an obscene amount of potatoes (among other things).

We then carried all of our luggage, plus the groceries, to the apartment of some of Evan's friends, who had graciously offered to let us crash on their couch since Evan's landlady didn't allow overnight guests.

Over the next couple of days, Evan went to class while I ran, did some planning for the next leg of my journey, and, okay, watched "The Crown" on Netflix. (Since my next stop was London, I figured I'd better brush up on my knowledge of Her Majesty.)

We also made Mexican food--it's pretty difficult to find decent Mexican food in Europe, at least the places that I've been, and since Chipotle is one of my main food groups in the States, I had been really jonesing for some Mexican food. And since one of our hosts had studied abroad in Texas, she appreciated the Tex-Mex-style dinner as well.

The night before Thanksgiving was spent peeling, chopping, boiling, mashing (using only a fork!), and stirring. All. Ten. Kilos. Of. Potatoes.

If I ever mash another potato in my life, it'll be too soon.

On Thanksgiving day, Evan and I made a day trip to Mont St. Michel, an abbey located on the peak of what is sometimes an island off the northwestern coast of France. How can a landmass only "sometimes" be an island, you ask? The tides, dear reader. The tides around Mont St. Michel are quite dramatic, so that one day there is just a wide expanse of muddy sand surrounding the island, and others there is saltwater. On the day that Evan and I visited, the tide was out, so we were able to walk out on what is technically the ocean floor.

The Abbey of Mont St. Michel itself is also pretty dang cool. It's been there since 1523. One of my favorite things about it is the device that was devised to get things up to the Abbey from the bottom of the island. It's basically a giant wooden hamster wheel, in which a monk or two would walk in order to wind up a rope, which in turn pulled a cart loaded with supplies up the nearly vertical train track on the side of the mountain.

My other favorite things about Mont St. Michel were the views from the Abbey. The fact that it's the off-season for tourism may have been a factor, but it just seemed like a lonely and beautiful place. I could've stared out at the ocean (well, mostly the ocean floor) for hours.

But we had to get back for our Thanksgiving feast!

We got back to Rennes at about 5:00, and after a brief stop at the grocery store for some last-minute ingredients, we got to work. By the time the guests started showing up at 7:00, we had the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade streaming and piles of food steaming.

Even though we had three Rotisserie chickens instead of a turkey, and we had to do without cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie--those things being apparently unavailable in France--we had a pretty authentic-feeling Thanksgiving. All twenty of us shared what we were thankful for and ate ourselves stupid.

And yet, we still had plenty of mashed potatoes leftover.