On June 6 1944, thousands of Allied soldiers invaded Normandy in an act which contributed to the end of World War Two. Equally momentous, on June 6 1994 I sat in my PJs and watched The Longest Day in my Ashhurst lounge (put on by TV1 to mark the 50th anniversary of the landings ) and wrote in my diary that I would love to go to Normandy one day. Last weekend, I finally made it. Yay!
Saving Private Ryan. The whole experience was a bit surreal however in that I really didn't feel as moved as I should have. I am not sure why, possibly a combination of not feeling like it was my history (given the number of American flags I almost felt like I had no right to be there at all) and the number of loud Americans hanging out at the site.