Venture inside a medieval kingdom perched on a mount. Photo / Getty Images
Venture inside a medieval kingdom perched on a mount. Photo / Getty Images
Mont Saint Michel may be the inspiration behind imaginary castles from Tangled to Disneyland, but this place isn’t a fairytale. It’s far more interesting and complex than that. Megan Holbeck chose a winter visit to soak up the atmosphere and emptiness.
Mont Saint Michel has awe-inspiring medieval architecture, a 1500-year history that takes in angels, sieges and revolutions, and an atmosphere steeped in centuries of religious devotion. This combination makes the tiny island off the quiet Normandy coast (population 20, including eight monks and five nuns) one of the most popular tourist drawcards in France.
We approach in the fading light of winter. The island is a looming shape on the horizon, massive and mysterious against the flat sea, big sky and dumping rain. The silhouette is steep and spiky, a golden glow lighting the belfry with its statue of Archangel Michael. Lights hint at the shape of buildings below – spires, walls, buttresses, houses. It’s a similar feeling to approaching a monolith in the desert: awe-inspiring due to size and presence alone.
Saint Mont Michel is awe-inspiring due to its size and presence alone. Photo / Getty Images
It’s not my first visit. Years earlier I’d come in summer, on a day trip of blue sky, picnics and big crowds. I’d been fascinated by the island’s beauty and medieval magic but felt that the visit didn’t match the vibe of the place: it was like listening to classical music at a rave. This time I’d brought family and we were staying the night, soaking in the atmosphere without people, rush or sun.
But first, we had to get to our hotel. The only way on or off the island with dry feet (at low tide at least) is along an elevated road of around 1.5 kilometres crossed by a courtesy bus. Cars must be left on the mainland, while the bus drives a kilometre or so before leaving you to approach the island on foot. It was a palaver of wetness and whinging, finding car parks and bus stops, further complicated by arriving in the dark and the rain. Eventually, we lugged our bags up two flights of stairs to check in at La Mere Poulard, a landmark hotel (one of only five on the island) and a famous restaurant.
The only way on or off the island is along an elevated road of around 1.5 kilometres.
Photo / 123rf
After a fortifying drink, we head out on to ramparts older than the European settlement of America. Light reflects in puddles as we follow the wide, empty walls, wander narrow cobblestone streets with buildings crowding above, and take steep steps to terraces of wind-bent shrubs. Above it all shines the light of the archangel’s gold-clad statue. We look up at the church built on a rocky peak, balanced on a fortress, the towers and spires and entire town made from similar golden granite to that of the island itself. It’s eerily quiet and there’s no one else around. I half expect cassocked figures to dart out of doorways, to hear soldiers’ cries echo from the ramparts.
The narrow streets of Mont Saint Michel at night. Photo / Getty Images
None of which is as far-fetched as it sounds, at least after considering Mont Saint Michel’s backstory. Before it was a monastery/fortress/shining beacon among rushing tides, it was a little rocky island off the coast. Even today this is a quiet rural landscape; sheep graze on lush green pastures, and fields of cabbages line roads leading to tiny villages of grey stone. But back in the eighth century, the only way to reach the island known as Mont Tombe (the Tombstone) was by boat or by crossing at low tide, braving the quicksand and the biggest tides in Europe (around 15 metres), said to be faster than a galloping horse.
This all began changing in 708 when the Archangel Michael visited Aubert, the Bishop of Avranches, and told him to build a sanctuary there. Apparently, Aubert was slow to listen; the archangel had to visit twice more, finally getting frustrated and putting his finger through the bishop’s skull. (You don’t want to mess with the heavenly militia.) So began the process of turning the island into a monastery and important pilgrimage site, involving building an abbey on the island, a church on its peak, collecting relics and attracting worshippers.
But first, it had to be built. Holy relics were collected from Italy, the sanctuary was completed, and pilgrims began to arrive. In the 10th century, a community of Benedictine monks was established and an abbey was built, followed by the church. The number of visitors and buildings increased, the latter constructed around the constraints of the island and the fact that the monks were an enclosed order.
Look up at the church built on a rocky peak and balanced on a fortress. Photo / Getty Images
By the 15th century, the broad shape of Mont Saint Michel was set. At its top were religious buildings built around the monks’ communal dedication to work and prayer: the church, abbey, cloisters, monks’ dining room and scriptorium, where a large number of manuscripts were produced and stored back when every book was written by hand.
Alongside religious life were the pilgrims, and lots of them; Mont Saint Michel was up there with Rome, Santiago and Jerusalem as a site of pilgrimage. The huge Guests’ Hall welcomed nobles (including kings of France and England), while below in the almonry, the monks received more common folk. It was big business – the more masses that were held, the more donations were received – and the village below grew right to the foot of the rock.
It’s in this village we stay, waking to the calls of seagulls wheeling around the ancient walls and bay beyond, all huge horizons and dark clouds. After breakfast, it’s back on to the ramparts with Florence Rocaboy, a local tour guide who entertains seven of us (aged 7 to 70) as she tells us how it’s more than religion that’s shaped this rock.
The island was also a fortress, its walls dotted with guard towers and murder holes for keeping attackers at bay. It withstood 30 years of siege during the Hundred Years’ War (1337-1453) and its importance grew, before waning again over the centuries. By 1787 the monastery’s numbers had reduced from 60 to only seven. “And what happened in 1787?” Florence asked our kids, met by the blank faces of an Antipodean audience. “The French Revolution,” she hastily answered, telling us how the monks were driven out and the island used as a prison housing up to 1000 people. A huge wooden “hamster wheel” can still be seen in the abbey, once turned by six prisoners and used to lift two tonnes of food up the walls in only 20 minutes. This stint as a jail lasted until 1863, saving Mont Saint Michel from destruction but leaving it a mess.
But as Florence tells it, this place is used to being rebuilt. In the 15th century, the church’s chancel collapsed, resulting in its distinctive mix of architecture, part wood-panelled barrel vault and part flamboyant Gothic (think of a wine barrel colliding with the Notre Dame Cathedral). After a fire in the church in the 1800s, parts of the nave became an outdoor terrace with fantastic views over the bay, while the building got a new facade. But in 1863, restoration began in earnest, setting the foundations for the modern town.
Our hotel was a direct result, opened in 1888 by Annette Poulard, the cook of the architect sent to manage the project. La Mere Poulard is a labyrinth, a sprawling space, spread over numerous levels and buildings, decorated throughout with drawings, clippings and other mementoes of famous guests. From Picasso to Woody Allen, King Edward VII to Margaret Thatcher, it seems the whole world has eaten the famous omelettes whipped up in copper pans in the open kitchen.
In its heyday, Mont Saint Michel was said to be like the French Riviera today, a place where the rich, famous and important gathered to eat fluffy eggs. Even now, it’s a well-sought-after destination. The last census put the town’s population at 20, while on one day in August 2022, 36,000 people visited the island.
Mont Saint Michel is one of the most popular tourist drawcards in France. Photo / 123rf
As I stand on the church’s West Terrace in the morning light, whipped by the wind and threatened by gloomy clouds, I can see down the walls to the water below and right up to the tiny golden figure on top of the spire. There are flat green fields and quicksand, ramparts and stained glass; more than 1500 years of history as a place of worship, defence and imprisonment. There’s no wonder that people want to see this place. It is stunning, a place of sublime beauty, oozing with atmosphere, history and magic. And on a winter’s night, you can have it all to yourself.
From Paris, catch a TGV (Train A Grande Vitesse) from Gare Montparnasse to Rennes. From there, a Keolis bus travels to Mont Saint Michel, operating four times a day. Allow 3h 50m.
If you are hiring a rental car, the drive from Paris CBD takes approximately four hours.
Getting around
The visitor car parks are 2.4km from the mount. Once you have parked, walk towards the Place des Navettes (about 800m) and take the shuttle bus which stops 450m away from the mount. Alternatively, visitors can book a unique horse-drawn carriage from the car parks to the mount.
