It's a warm sunny day here in the middle of the English Channel. We're about half way between Ouisterem, Normandy and Portsmouth, England. I've seen these waters a thousand times on black and white film with ominous invasion music playing in the background. We're heading in the opposite direction. Thankfully, there are no U-boats or bombers in sight.

The first time I remember taking a real interest in the D-Day invasion was after watching "Stand By Me" for the first time. One of the kids, Teddy, breaks down at some point and cries out "My old man stormed the beaches of Normandy!" I had no idea what he was referring to, but I resolved to pay closer attention the next time I heard someone mention it.

We arrived in the Norman City if Caen three days ago via train from Paris. As we walked from the train station to our hotel, we began to take note of a Canadian flag hanging from a window now and again. By the time we were downtown, we were in a sea of red maple leafs! Caen lies about 20 miles inland from Juno Beach, one of the five primary sectors of the D-Day invasion and the one fully commanded and attacked by Canadian soldiers. After a fierce day of fighting on June 6, 1944, the Canadian regiments moved inland toward Caen, which proved much more difficult to capture than initially hoped. By the time the Germans had been forced back across the Orne and the now free citizens embraced their Canadian liberators, the town had been all but destroyed. In addition to thousands of Canadian soldiers, up to 12,000 civilians had been killed, mostly by Allied bombs.

Save for a few impressive gothic churches, most of the town looks brand new. Afterall, it is. Everyone who discovered that we were Canadian welcomed us "back" with genuine warmth. After dinner on our first night I decided to slip down to the Abbey des Hommes, built by William the Conquerer in the 11th Century and the site of his grave. During the bombings of Caen, thousands of citizens took refuge in the Abbey trusting that the British would not destroy the burial place of one of their kings. I was surprised to find the door open and the place empty. While standing over the grave of the Conquerer, a voice called out to me in french. "Pardonez-moi Monsieur, nous sommes fermes." I apologized explaining that the door was open and that I hadn't meant to intrude. When I explained that I was a Canadian tourist, he gave me a full tour of the place and then put on his coat and walked me down the street to show me the exact site of the Canadian liberation memorial.

The next day we rented a car and made our way to the Normandy Coast. We rented a small apartment in Berniers-sur-Mer, just a few kilometres down the beach from the Juno Beach Centre at Courseulles-sur-Mer. I hadn't expected to see much at Berniers but knew I was in a special place when I saw most of the streets were named after Canadian Regiments. As I walked down to the beach, the first thing that struck my mind was I that I was seeing the North Atlantic Ocean for the first time since we set off from New York City heading west eight months ago. The sun was setting right over Canada and it felt like if I swam towards it for an hour or two I'd come ashore in good old St. John's.

Then I started thinking about what must have been going through the minds of all those young Canadians who were coming the other way on a rough sea a little more than 70 years ago. For many, it was their first chance at action after years of waiting in England. For those who'd survived Dieppe, it must have been a terrifying reliving of the events of that tragic test run two years earlier.

The next day we walked down the beaches to the Juno Centre at Courseulles-sur-Mer. This thoughtful and well designed museum lies right on the beach where the Royal Winnipeg Rifles came ashore on D-Day. It is staffed by Canadian students who work here during summer holidays or one year post graduation assignments. The girls were far more delighted to chat with these outgoing young people than listen to me drone on about who did what on which beach. If they'd offered Mira a job for the rest of the summer, I'm convinced she would gladly have accepted. If nothing else, I think they both came away with a better appreciation of the benefits of a good liberal education and a second language, even if the motivation at this point was nothing more than getting paid to live in France. I can notice their confidence speaking french improve with every week they spend here. I'm not sure they were convinced it was a real language, and not just something spoken in school, until they were fully immersed in it.

Today we visited a few more D-Day sights including Winston Harbour, a man made breakwater constructed by sinking hundreds of concrete barges off shore in the weeks after D-Day to supply the renewed war in Europe. We then had a lovely visit to the Canadian Cemetery at Beny-sur-Mer where the rows of maple leaf engraved crosses stand witness to the terrible price paid for victory here. "How many of these were from Canada?" Shannon asked when she stared down on the sombre headstones tastefully decorated with striking fresh flowers and small red flags. "All of them honey. And there are just as many at another cemetery down the road." I could see it all start to sink in as she stared silently at the familiar names from familiar towns in her own country far across the sea.

It's hard not to be impressed by it all. As I looked on the faces of the thousands of people who still come here to pay their respects every year, I wondered if any cause will ever unite the free world in the same way again. I wonder if future generations will look back on our lives and times with any of the same wonder, awe and shock as we do on the events of the first half of the last century. Let's hope that if they do, it will be for something other than war or destruction and rather for something we gave to the world rather than save it from. Like fish and chips or Coronation Street. Oh look! There's Jolly Old England up ahead now.

We will be spending a few days in Portsmouth with some new friends we made in New Zealand last November, then off to London for a few shows and some curry. Au revoir France. See you again next week.