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By Joe Fries
Beauty abounded on a recent European adventure, but the most stunning thing I saw was found in the most unlikely of places.
The 2.5-week odyssey included stops in England, France, Ireland and Scotland.
It wasn’t in London where I saw this marvel, although there was plenty to see. Classic views of Buckingham Palace, the Parliament buildings, Big Ben and Westminster Abbey did not disappoint. Nor did a late-night champagne flight on the London Eye – sort of an enclosed ferris wheel that overlooks the city – and is well worth the money if you like the bubbly and heights.
This place wasn’t in Paris, with all its lovely balconies, immaculately-dressed women, sidewalk cafes, the Arc de Triomphe, and of course the Eiffel Tower, the base of which was guarded by machine-gun toting soldiers. Not at the Louvre, either, although the Mona Lisa was there and was much, much smaller than I had imagined.
Nor was it in the south of France, in the Provence region. Although the multitude of small villages and coves along the Mediterranean were absolutely picturesque.
And Ireland, for all its whimsy, didn’t hold a candle to this place. But its historic streets were charming. Outside the city, the Emerald Isle wasn’t all that green, given the time of year.
Scotland, although I find its people’s accents beautiful, also couldn’t hold a candle. Mind you, Edinburgh Castle, set high atop an ancient volcano is a marvel. How such a complex was built without the aid of modern technology is beyond me.
No, the most beautiful thing I saw was in northern France, close to the border with Belgium.
It was a graveyard. A war cemetery to be precise. It contains the bodies of hundreds of soldiers who died in the First and Second World Wars. One of them is my maternal grandfather, who died in 1940 while fighting with a Scottish regiment. He was 27 – two years younger than I.
Not that I’m a graveyard aficionado, but this one was simply breath-taking. I admired the symmetry of the place, the evenly-spaced, carbon-copy headstones arranged in perfect rows or perfect curves as required. The place was carefully tended and perfectly manicured. Not a blade of grass out of place.
A sign at the entryway said the land was a gift of the French people. I later learned that the Commonwealth countries share in caring for such graves and provide funds for the upkeep. Knowing only through history lessons what these soldiers went through, it’s heartening to learn they’ve been given such a lovely and peaceful place to spend eternity.
Beside the grave registry was a guest book for visitors to sign. One of the writers remarked that soldiers sleep soundly. Indeed. Beautiful.
joe@kelowna.com
