Connie and Steve
Connie and Steve Arrive
Yesterday we fought our way to the front of the receiving line with our little sign which read, “Welcome Connie and Steve”. There were several other vendors with their welcome signs including one for “Lord Painting”. I hope to have some pictures up but my access for the pictures isn’t working. In retrospect, our sign should have read: “Welcome Lady Kinyon and Lord Torgesen”!
For the rest of the day we had a whirlwind visit of all the major Paris sights including the Notre Dame, Seine River, Eiffel Tower, and Arc Triomphe. During our visit to the Arc Triomphe, Gayle suggested that we re-live an experience she had with Dave and Linda, by standing in a little pedestrian safe zone in the middle of the Champs Elysees. This is just outside a 12 lane circle which is a complete free for all, with cars, motorcycles, and a rare bike, going every which way. When we got to the free zone, Gayle noticed that they took down the 3 cement posts that pedestrians can huddle behind, so we were basically standing in the middle of 12 lanes of traffic. Two motorcycles almost ran us down!
At noon today, we leave Paris to head for St Remy in the center of Provence (Southeast France). On Sunday we will see the hearding of the sheep, goats and other livestock in St. Remy, where thousands of animals are paraded through the streets for two hours… what a welcome that will be! This is where we meet up with Pat and Marty Miller, Kim and Marilyn Shelley, Dave and Linda Lyon, and Sunny and Brad Hilliker. I can only imagine the stories that will be spun tonight!
Important note: Our internet abilities for the remaining three weeks of our journey are very much in question so our blog entries might become more erratic.
Quiet Days
Quiet Days
After a final shopping day, saying goodbye to the Italian brothers, who sell homemade ravioli, lasagna, gnocchi, and sauces that bring tears to your eyes, especially when there is not enough time to buy another bite of food which always whisks me to the golden hills of Tuscany. When we first met the brothers, the quiet one had just cut his finger pretty deeply while slicing a Parma ham which was aged 3 years. Every time he sees me and my chopeau bleu (blue hat) he laughs and says his finger hurts.
Then there is the “crepe mademoiselle” with the angelic smile whose perky face and gestures makes you laugh as you devour every nutella filled morsel of your crepe. We gave her our card and asked her to visit us in Washington. She smiled and said, “maybe, I will add you to my list!”
Today while eating our final falafel at the park next to the abbey a young classic caricature of a Frenchman entered the courtyard. Picture this: he was wearing a dark blue beret, blue blazer top, grey pinstripe slacks, yellow argyle socks. He had a dramatic goatee and carried a blue blackpack that look more like a suitcase, with several baguettes sticking out at the seams. He carried a large square bag that looked perfect for an accordion. As soon as I pointed him out. Gayle said, “Why didn’t you bring your camera?” I’ve perfected the French shrug, which could mean anything!
Our imagined Monet or Renoir ate a small sandwich, rubbed his goatee and looked around expectantly. At any minute, I imaged an impromptu accordion concert or perhaps he would withdraw a sketch pad from his briefcase and begin drawing a courtyard of full of ethnic people, eating ethnic foods, bathed in a warm bath of golden sunlight.
Looking back, everyone had a story to tell, the sexy woman in flesh and black, stretched out provocatively on the bench, a mother and daughter who fed each other between giggles, the quietly chattering Japanese gals, a business man bent forward slugging down his lunch, and an elderly couple who gingerly found their bench and who ate from plastic containers so scarred from use that they were no longer opaque, seldom talking but having a closeness that only comes with binding age. Everyone has a story to tell, perhaps what makes a friend and a lover is having someone who is eager to hear our stories.
Evening In Paris Picture
Van Gogh and a Walk in the Woods
Van Gogh and a Walk in the Woods
We are at the place on our trip to Paris where were rushing to do all the things we’ve missed and to do our favorites before we leave. It’s like sitting on your luggage to get it closed. We’ve only had 6 weeks to get it all in the suitcase. If we had skipped eating and drinking we would still have 2 weeks left!
Our last two days included a trip to the small town where Vincent Van Gogh painted his last 70 paintings and yesterday to two chateaus complete with woodland creekside walks. The Van Gogh town started out inauspiciously with a four-way argument between Rick Steve’s guidbook, the train ticket seller, Gayle, and Myself. Basically the ticket seller didn’t want to sell us a ticket on the route that Steve’s recommended. We finally gave in and did it the sellers way, and steamed all the way to the small town, on the slowest, poorest connected train so far.
Once we got into town, we found a realtors dream, house after house, of charming homes, restful courtyards, and friendly people. The famous church that was depicted in Vincent’s last works was foreboding, when you consider the context for Van Gogh. His first love in life was God and the ministry. He was extremely devout, gave to the poor all his belongings, living meagerly as he ministered to the poor miners and factory workers. Unfortunately, the church thought his devoution and interpersonal skill lacking, and asked him to leave.
Thus we see a church with no entry, on a crooked path, a sky whose clouds look ready to pluck one up into the darkness. All this, while a poor working woman walks to her fate taking the broken path to the left. I hope she makes it to the welcoming town that peeks out on the left and not the church that turned it’s back on poor Vincent.
The one fun quirk of this town is the “Dogs on the Wall” phenomenon. As we walked beside these rough rocked walls and homes, we kept running into chens (dogs) peering at us from above. At one location, we were getting ready to film two dogs, when a car drove up. A lady got out and the dogs went crazy. One dog pacing 12’ skyward had a half deflated soccer ball that it kept swinging toward the woman below.
Walk in the Woods
Yesterday we went to two Chateau’s, got lost and found, and walked in our own private creekside woodland. As I write this, I am soaking my tired feet on what must have been our longest day thus far. After stocking up at a farmers market, we searched out the entrance to the Chateau. We began to wonder if we were going to find the little path described in our book, when we overtook a French lady walking her chien (dog). Gayle asked for instructions, and the delightful madame, turned around and walked us ½ mile in the other direction to the Chateau. Later we learned that if we would have walked another three very bleak blocks we would have seen the trail that leads directly to the Chateau. Our delightful guide chatted in French the entire way, describing the deficiencies of the young and taking us up the prettiest street in Malesherbes.
Later in the day, our guide instructed us to walk up to the other Chateau, knock on the window and the caretaker would take you on a tour. We paced, torn about whether or not we should bother the caretaker. Finally a head popped out the window and asked us if we needed help. Gayle started out in kids level French to say yes, then Severine said would you prefer we talk in English? Voila, the communication gap was filled! It turns out that Severine is visiting her mother from England where she works for Amazon.com. It’s just a bit weird that I just bought a book and a CD online from Amazon (while in Paris), to be shipped home to Sequim!
Severine and her non-English speaking mother took us on our best guided tour so far while in France. We saw slits in the castle that were used to fire arrows at invaders. There were spigot holes to drop hot oil on the unwanted visitors and even a pigeon roost where thousands of birds were raised to eat, send discreet P-mails, fertilize the fields, and as a bragging point to neighboring chateaus. “I have a Dell Pentium 300 blacked striped pigeon capable of delivering P-mail up to 50 KM away!”
We completed our walk along tree-tunneled paths, peasant like fields of crops, and tiny hamlets now housing the rich and famous. It was so beautiful that a crew was set up to take modeling pictures, with our forest and homes as the background. En route to the train station, we came to another confusing junction and asked the assistance of portly man wearing a beret who had just fixed his gate. We started talking but had trouble communicating through the gate bars. The man started to open the gate but it wouldn’t open. He had to run into the garage and get a tool to finally get to us. In rapid fire French he told us which direction to take. Amazingly, I understood more of his instructions than Gayle! As we left, I looked back and the home mechanic was looking very disapprovingly of his errant handiwork.
We ended our journey to the train station by making our way through a child-size underpass and magically appearing across the street from the “gare”. Imaginez donc! (Imagine That)
Picture Set
Picture Set
Picture Set
Picture Set
Picture Set
The Maid of Lorraine and Dave and Linda’s Status
The Maid of Lorraine and Dave and Linda’s Status
Yesterday we went to Orleans for the 576 anniversary of Joan of Arc’s liberation of Orleans from the English and the Burgundians. I truly believed that we were the only Americans in this small city, packed with people from differing parts of France. It started with attending a catholic mass, lead by an Archbishop with rousing tributes to St Joan, thunderous organ pieces, and haunting songs and chants from the choir. We believe the Archbishop was from Barcelona as his French was not very fluent (as if we would really know!).
We left the mass after about 40 minutes, which is about the absolute maximum for a non-catholic, listening to a Spaniard talking in choppy French, by two Americans who speak minimal French and understand even less.
As soon as we left, we ran into a moving river of ethnic color, wild hats, bizarre instruments, and marching bands. We clicked our heels three times knowing we weren’t in the US this day. Each region of France participated, wearing regional outfits and carrying historic tools. The bands were always a mix of all ages rather than the XYZ High School marching bands we see at home. Plus there was a smattering of medieval characters. One guy represented the wild and rough Gauls, wearing animal skins and carrying a 4’ horn. Every once in while, he would run toward the crowds, grunting and howling, to the wild glee of the spectators. The gal holding the chain would come over and kick him back into the line. Now that I think about it, this is not so different than real life today. Another group of regional folks were followed by a man wheeling a keg of what looked like beer, but was really their “boom box” playing regional folk music.
In one of the pictures, you will see 2005’s Maid of Lorraine (Joan of Arc). Being selected is like being Miss Teen France. They have a whole room in the restored home of Joan of Arc filled with pictures and information on prior years Maids. Apparently, girls of the appropriate age here in Orlean cut their hair in the page-boy style, undoubtedly act piously, and dream about this day.
Later that day we had a military and service parade mostly made up with tanks, fire trucks, and ambulances when one of the spectators passed out. The parades took all day and there was often a 5-10 minute interval between entries. These people were definitely in no hurry. As we were getting close to leaving we found a medieval market, where we ate medieval mountain cow cheese, boar sausage, one bite which we kept tasting for 20 minutes (Ughh), and a walking fondue of sheep’s cheese on a baguette for Gayle. (“Fair food” in Sequim was never like this!)
Dave and Linda Status:
Linda gave us a call from the region of France close to Toulouse. As Linda said, we are “Loose in Toulouse.” They are having a great time. She said she hated to leave her last gite (apartment) run by a kind English couple in central France. Her bathroom in her new place is actually a tower! Driving has been no problem if you don’t mind driving in circles a few times in small villages to get your bearing.
Dave has been really engaged by all the ancient weaponry, tools, and castles that pop up around every corner especially in the Dordogne. I can’t wait to see all the home improvement ideas he is going to bring back. Sequim might have its first moated castle! Linda says she needs my help emptying her pictures from her camera into my laptop and onto a CD. Her camera holds over 500 pictures!
Apparently the wine is good, the food great, and I am hearing words like, “when we come back we’re going to …” The Lyons, world explorers and travelers, par excellence!
Picture Set
Picture Set
Picture Set
Picture Set
Picture Set
