Climbing Mont-Saint-Michel at 80: Could I Make It to the Top?

There it was, rising out of the gray bay — the village wrapped around the rock and the abbey high above it. Mont-Saint-Michel. I had seen that unmistakable silhouette in photographs for years. In person, it was even more extraordinary.

Mont-Saint-Michel: The View from Below

Climbing Mont Saint Michel wasn’t necessarily in our plan.

Once through the entrance, we found ourselves in a narrow medieval street lined with old stone and half-timbered buildings, restaurants, and little shops. After that wet, windswept approach across the bay, being inside the walls felt almost sheltered. It was much more compact than I’d imagined, with buildings crowded together along streets and passageways that twisted around the rock.

We had decided to stay for the night so we could experience Mont-Saint-Michel after the day-trippers had gone and before the crowds returned the next morning. Our small hotel was almost at the entrance and exactly what we needed. The location was perfect for wandering through the shops and streets and simply getting our bearings. From our room, we had beautiful views over the rooftops and out toward the bay — cloudy, windswept and unmistakably Mont-Saint-Michel.

We spent what was left of the afternoon exploring, ducking in and out of shops and seeing what was around the next corner. After weeks on the road, it was nice to have nowhere else to go.

By the next morning, the weather had completely changed.

And Up We Went

The rain was gone, the sky was blue, and visitors were already pouring into the village. We joined the crowd and followed the narrow street as it wound its way uphill. The incline was gradual at first. Then came some steps, another passageway, another level, and more steps. We stopped along the way to look around, then continued. That’s one of the things photographs don’t really show you about Mont-Saint-Michel. It is remarkably vertical. Structures seem to grow out of the rock, one above another, connected by narrow streets, passageways … and stairways.

There was always something else to see — another view across the bay, another turn in the passageway, or one of the small places set aside for prayer and contemplation along the way. We weren’t in a hurry, and I wasn’t counting steps or paying much attention to how high we’d climbed. Before we knew it, we’d come surprisingly far.

I remember stopping at one level and wondering whether I wanted to go any farther. We’d already climbed a long way and seen a lot. Stopping where we were seemed perfectly reasonable. Then I looked up.

We Were Almost There

There it was — much closer than I expected. Somehow we’d covered most of the distance without really thinking about it. The abbey that had seemed so far above us was suddenly within reach. That’s when we really decided to go for it.

The last stretch took more effort. There were more stone steps and passageways, and every time I thought we must surely be there, another set appeared.

We made it.

The View From the Top

OHHH!… the view...

The gray skies and driving rain of the day before were gone. Above us was a brilliant blue sky, and below, the bay stretched out in every direction. From that height, we could see the tidal sands patterned with pools of water left by the rain, reflecting the sky and catching the light. The causeway reached across the enormous expanse toward the mainland, and everything we’d crossed the day before seemed very far away.

It was extraordinary. In fact, the rain we’d complained about the day before had left us something in return. Those pools scattered across the sands made the landscape below even more beautiful — patches of blue and silver across the vast sweep of the bay.

We stood there for a long time, looking out. After spending the morning concentrating on streets, steps, and what was immediately in front of us, suddenly there was nothing but space.

The climb had been worth it for that view alone.

Inside the Abbey

Then we walked into the cloister…

After all that massive stone, it was almost startling: a small green garden surrounded by slender columns, open to the brilliant blue sky. It sits at the top of La Merveille, high above the bay. Nearby were enormous vaulted rooms; elsewhere, quieter spaces for prayer. Windows and archways kept bringing us back to the landscape outside.

We passed through centuries without really knowing it — medieval monastic rooms, later additions, and that enormous wooden wheel, each belonging to another part of Mont-Saint-Michel’s story.

Eventually, the route led us downward and outside, into gardens tucked beneath the abbey’s towering walls. Even on the way out, Mont-Saint-Michel wasn’t finished surprising us.

One More Look

From the gardens, the route continued downward, eventually returning us to the village. Going down was certainly easier, but it gave us a very different view of the place we had spent the morning climbing through.

At the bottom, Patricia and I turned around once more.

There’s More to Mont-Saint-Michel Than the Climb

And that’s only the beginning. Stay tuned …