The Last Post

We spent our 35^th anniversary, travelling from Chartres to our airport hotel and then making a quick trip from our hotel at Charles de Gaulle airport into Paris for a lovely walkabout and dinner.  This all sounds very easy in print, but believe me, it included a hotel search that was a bit of a gong show.

Paris is lovely.  Today is Fetes de Meres (Mother's Day) and everyone is walking around with bouquets of flowers (for their mothers, presumably).  It is warm and sunny and the city sings.

We have been very fortunate to make this holiday and it has been memorable.  Going home is always sad, but I am looking forward to eating vegetables, grilling hamburgers, facecloths, clothes in drawers, automatic transmission, English television , public bathrooms with toilet paper, Dean and Nellie.

See y’all soon.

Riding the Rails again

We have swapped our wheels for tracks and taken the high speed train to Paris, then connecting to Chartres.  I am re-discovering the joys of this mode of travel.  Once one is past the hassle and burden of dragging luggage and backpacks (I look like an eccentric troll bent under the weight of my pack), there is the dreamy freedom from fretting over traffic, waysigns and parking. Our seats, although second-class, feel like first-class- spacious, with cool electronic adjustment, and a plug-in for the netbook.  There is only us and one other in our car (I’m sure others will join us in time) as we hurtle along towards Paris at 300km per hour.  Maybe someone will come by with a coffee cart.  We grabbed a cappachino from the machine at the station and a bread stick at a bakery for our breakfast.  Walking down the street, munching on a baguette is very French.

Much later:  We arrived at Chartres, a busy market town around 3 and checked into our matter-of-fact hotel.  This is a busy place, with tons of shoppers, buskers and of course the cathedral.  Doug and I agree that this is the most extraordinary and astounding cathedral we have ever been in and that includes St. Peter’s, St. Paul’s, St. Joseph’s etc.  It is huge.  And, as it happened, when we entered, Mass was taking place.  Unlike other cathedrals, where there are tons of tourists gawking and a handful of the faithful in the pews, this place was packed – over a thousand people, in seats participating in Worship.  It was truly moving – even if I couldn’t understand a word (except “celebration mystere”)and being a person steeped in Protestantism.

On the road again

We are back in Arles for the third time!  (It’s a central point in our trip)  And this is the third room we have had at the Hotel du Musee.  This one is roomy, with a bath and huge windows in the bathroom and bedroom, with shutters to keep out the sun. 

The drive was on a highway of big vistas, where we noted the distinctive red stone in the rolling hills.  After we dropped off our car at Avis and unpacked, Doug and I had a glass of wine in the garden courtyard of the hotel.  We are wearing sun glasses again.  The clouds have cleared away.

Tomorrow, we must rise early and catch the 7:30am train to Paris, then transfer to Chartres.  We have picked up a pastry and still have some cherries from Albi.  I’ve scouted out the coffee machine in the train station, so we are good to go.

Albi

Today we drove from Sarlat to Albi. For once the weather was a bit dull. Overcast and warm (instead of sunny and hot).

En route we stopped at a variety of interesting towns: Carennac, Villefranche de Rourgue, St-Martin de (something), Castlenaud-Bretenoux etc. Lots of beautiful scenery... historic old buildings, ruined castles, rolling hills.

We arrived in Albi just ahead of the rush hour. Strolled through old town and walked over the Tarn River (teeming with large carp and catfish) on a 900 year-old bridge. Also visited Albi’s famous cathedral. Then had dinner on a lively square near our hotel.

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“If I see one more Romanesque chapel, I’m going to....”  These were the words uttered by Doug as we peered into the interior of a small house of worship built in the year 700.  Just kidding of course!  We have been bewitched by the romance of these towns, once at the heart of the Hundred Years War.  Lots of plundering went on, but lots left as well.  (I wonder if the people living in these ancient buildings dream of having a split-level with a brand-new deck?)

Our hotel in Albi is roomy and  modern, with one wall covered in a wallpaper mural depicting a birch forest. Hmm ..is this so that we will feel at home?  It is the most expensive stay of our vacation - breakfast is 18 E.  No thanks  We visited the Albi Cathedral before dinner, which claims to be the largest brick building in the world.
Our non-stop sun is taking a break.  I don't mind really, being a bit of a mole at heart. 

Driving the Uber-Scenic Dordogne

(From Doug)

Today was sunny and very warm – reaching the low 30s C.

We enjoyed the hotel’s breakfast before setting off to tour our first castle, on a hilltop overlooking the Dordogne River, about 20 km south of Sarlat. “Castelnaud” dates from the Cathar era and changed hands 7 times during the 100 years’ war.

Then we drove across the river to tour an old chateau “Marqueyssac” and its gardens, famous for its century-old boxwood.

We had lunch at Limieul and then drove to Les Eyzies de Tayac to visit France’s Museum of Prehistory.

Then we meandered the scenic route back to Sarlat for supper, stopping for coffee and beer along the way.

Maureen here:  The drive through the Dordogne valley was achingly picturesque, with impossibly perfect roses tumbling over the walls of oh-so old shops and homes, built into the cliffs above the Dordogne River.  I don’t think I could ever get tired of this vista. 

I have eaten an ice cream cone (glace) just about every day of this trip and for the most part I stick to my favourite flavour, pistachio (pistache).  It could have been the makings of a culinary survey of sorts, except that I broke my record in Les Eyzie today, where I had rum raisin.  I feel quite confident ordering ice cream in French.

On a holiday of tiny bathrooms, our bathroom in Sarlat is very large.  In fact, it is sweeping.  The tub is modern and long.  I feel like a luge athlete in it (except of course, the water is warm rather than ice).

Tomorrow it’s on to Albi!

Dizzy in the Dordogne

Call me Thunder Thighs. I have climbed up and down so many staircases,  hilly paths and roads, that all my muscles are calling for attention.
 We have reached the well-preserved medieval town of Sarlat, after a very twisty ride on the narrow country roads of the Dordogne area.  GPS (hereto known as Peggy Sue) masterfully guided us into town.  It was all so easy, until we realized that we were going around and around Sarlat never  reaching our hotel. There is a nightmarish quality to this situation.  In desperation, we parked and found a gentle spirit in the Town Hall who gave us directions. No wonder Peggy Sue was stuck.  Our hotel is buried deep in a so-called street, down which no car has ever rolled . Getting our bags into this sanctuary took some imagination, but we made it and have had dinner. It is warm enought to eat outdoors, which is a treat for all Victorians.  While we dined, we were serenaded by a French wench dressed in period costume, incongruously singing Edith Piaf songs.
We have a knack for getting food we didn't order.  I asked for a strawberry frappe, only to be told that there was only raspberry (the very flavour of ice cream that I really don't care for), so I changed it to a chocolate frappe.  Our meal arrived - for me- a raspberry frappe and a hot chocolate drink!
Tomorrow, we will get up early and drive out to the beautiful Dordogne valley -there is a wealth of chateaux, and Stone Age caves to explore in the area.

Carcasonne, France

We are, again, in the land of good food, fine wine and excellent diction.  Getting out of Barcelona was surprisingly easy and the drive to Carcasonne was quite pretty.  Our hotel here is very close to the walled city and we have walked over a couple of times already.  And there is a pool!  It is quite hot, by our standards (30C) and a refreshing dip was just the ticket at the end of our journey.  We have sighted wildlife - tiny osselated lizards that like to sunbathe on the warm stones around the pool.  They are about 4 inches long and move in a scurry/glide fashion.  Something between a snake and a`spider. They bite, we are informed - usually harmless, but painful
 The BBC news has mentioned that there is another ash cloud over Iceland.  There is no point in  worrying yet, but let's all hope that it does not interrupt flights at the end of the week.
Tomorrow, we will have a swim and head for Sarlat.  Tonight, I am going to bone up on the Cathars, who populated this area in the 12th and 13th centuries.

Ola from Spain

Barcelona is elegant and grand, like Paris, with wide streets and many monuments, but buoyant, informal and  tropical in flavour.  It’s hard not to be happy in Barcelona. There are parakeets in the trees. You can hear them before you see them. We took a bus tour this morning – the streets in the early hours were quite empty except for the tough turistos like ourselves.  I guess everyone was hung over after the game.  But, by 10am they were jammed again.

Our breakfast was a great surprise – the usual croissants, yogurt, coffee, but more: a variety of Spanish pastries, scrambled eggs, sausages, ham, bacon. And wine. Doug had a glass. I declined, it being 8am.

We visited the Barcelona Cathedral, huge and having Mass when we entered, so we couldn’t go past the chain.  They’ve gone electronic though, with a big screen video of the service for us outsiders and electric candles for prayers.  You pop in a coin and bingo! a little pretend candle lights up! Somehow, I have a feeling that they aren’t an affirming church.  Outside, the Catalonian dancers performed in the square.

Our tour, of course, included the Goudi church, unfinished and organic.  His work is very present around the town.  I intend to learn more about this mystical, creative man. 

After exploring every square mile of the city by bus, we hit the beaches so Doug could have a swim.  Thousands of people cover the sand, basking in the sun. This is such an energetic city.  The streets are an array of cars, trucks, scooters, bikes and roller bladers.  The sidewalks include pedestrians, bladers, skateboarders,  and bikes.  No rules, no worries.  The Catalonian personality seems to be friendly and casual.
Today, is election day in Spain.  In order to encourage citizens to fulfil their civic duty, airplanes made great white Xs in the sky.  A lofty reminder to vote.

Tomorrow, we head back to France.

Brave in Barcelona

We crossed the Spanish border around noon today.  No big deal, of course, since the EEU, but we did notice some Civil Guards standing around.  I've heard that Europeon countries may return to stopping people because of immigration worries.
Once we reached the coast, the vistas were spectacular.  We found a small town , picked up something to eat and took it to the beach.  Funny thing is - it was almost impossible to find something savory.  There are tons of bakeries but they specialize in sweets.  Nor was there any evidence of fast food.  My kingdom for a burger!
Navigating Barcelona's streets was no big deal, thanks to GPS.  We were handily guided right to the front of our hotel.  But, here is where the story gets complicated.  Our consierge (or whatever the equivalent is in Spanish) stepped out from behind his desk and told us to take the car...right, left, right, blah,blah....to get to the parking lot.  We thought we understood and off we drove into the abyss of Barcelonian traffic, without a map or our GPS!  Pretty soon, we knew we were lost and so we parked at the nearest lot and then realized that we had no idea how to get back to our hotel; nor did we remember the address! No one seemed to be able to help us, despite Doug's pleas in Grade 10 Spanish. (They actually speak Catalan here - maybe that was the problem)   In desperation we bought a map and figured out where we were.  Then we found a cab driver who kindly gave us walking directions (rather than"taking us for a ride").  Whew! Mucho stress.
We have just returned from dinner, a busy walk down the Carrera de Ramblas where we found a restaurant.  The streets are teeming with people.  There is a protest in Madrid against the lack of government action on the economic crisis and it has spilled over to Barcelona. The demonstration is in the square just down the road from our rooms. There is also a football match between Barcelona and Manchester United today  to add to the hyper atmosphere.  And it is Saturday night.  Altogether, it is wild out there!

Content in Collioure

 We are at Collioure by the seaside, in the atmospheric Hotel des Templiers.  The picturesque setting and ruined 12^th century forts and watchtower around us inspired Henri Matisse, and reproductions of his work are everywhere.   Reaching this idyllic seaside spot involved a meandering drive by marshy lagoons and non-descript commercial strips.  Then the countryside opened up to the most dramatic scenery of vineyards and olives.  The highway seemed lonely, with little traffic and no one around for miles – not a building, or even a barn.  This made it the more surprising to see hookers along the side of the road.  Picture a woman dressed in heels and purse, smoking,  sitting on a wooden chair on the shoulder of a country byway.  A more incongruous sight, I can’t imagine.  The first time I noticed one of these gals, I thought she was waiting for a bus.  Now I know better.  I couldn’t help hoping that one of them would think to bring along a good book.  It could be a long, albeit scenic, wait.

This morning, Doug is taking a swim – his second dip on this beach.  The water is rich with sealife and the sand is like a pillow.  The temperature is that of a perfect day in Victoria- 28c, clear blue skies and  just the hint of a breeze. The rich Mediterranean colours dominate and there is clearly some Spanish influence as we head south.

There are many eateries in this town, but our guide book (bought at Russells, second-hand and ten years old) suggested only one place, which was at the next beach.  Would it still be in business a decade later, we wondered? Well, it was and we were lucky to get a table. Many guests must have been reading the same old guide.  Our seafood dinner was very delicious and worthy of a photograph.

Our little room has classic French doors opening onto the street life below.  And it has a bathtub! But, naturally, no facecloths. 

The main excitement yesterday was believing that Doug had lost the car keys.  Happily, they were found flung on the bed.  In a short while, we will head for Barcelona, which we understand to be the theft capital of our journey.  So, my moneybelt thingy is tied to my bra – let’s see them get that!

Nice is nice

This morning, we said goodbye to Mary and Norman in Nice.  (Mary & Norman- if you are reading this, we hope that you located your train, made all your connections, and are safely situated at your lodgings ). Zigzagging through the narrow streets gave us a taste of Nice and, nice as it appears to be, we opted not to linger.  We headed back to Arles, taking the motorway almost the whole route.  The only piece of excitement was at the toll gate, where the robot rejected both our credit cards (!) and demanded change (we had none).  There were firm instructions not to leave your car, nor to back up. (Well, then what ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO DO?) . We had no choice.  Once out of the pickle, we found a gate which accepted bills.  Whew!
Along the route, we saw brilliant fields of red poppies, much like our orange California poppies.  And, there was time for Doug to have a swim in the Mediterranean.
We are back in the same hotel as when we started - but a different room - #5.  There is the faint scent of sewage at this end of the hotel, but my nose is beginning to forget about it.  Otherwise, I really like this B&B. Our room is large and has an enormous fireplace, topped by an elegant and large mirror.  I guess our room was part of a salon in the past.  Well, Life is humbling and now it is just a bedroom in a 2 star hotel.
Tomorrow, we are off to Collioure.  Bon nuit.

OMG

I am going to borrow Mary G.'s title because it so aptly described today.  Our drive from Vence to Monaco began after we spent a few hours wandering around old Vence, a historical town built around the springs that occur in the area.  There are many founts (taps)  around town, if you get thirsty.
The route from Vence to Monaco involved many kilometers of switchbacks on  unbelievably narrow roads which we shared with Francophone drivers who never slow down!  Miraculously,we made it without incident,but I swear we came close many times.  In order to catch our breath we made stops at two hilltop towns.  These are (breath-taking) medieval shopping centres,selling high end art and clothes (not to us).  I have taken a surfeit of photographs of amazing flowers against ancient walls and laundrey hanging out of interesting windows.  I need a new theme!
Finally we arrived at Monaco, the second smallest nation state in the world.  Monaco is packed with tourists, many Americans, who have been noticably absent on this trip.  To add to the traffic chaos, the city is setting up stadiums and fences for the Grand Prix which will happen next week.  We walked about 5k to the Palace and old city- mostly  uphill.  The old town is a welcome relief from the crowded newer city.  Every square inch of Monaco is built up.  It is over the top.  There is no top..  In spite of all the seediness of gambling etc. it is a fascinating locale in a dramatic landscape filled with very large yachts and extremely expensive cars.  Doug was in heaven.  Bentleys were in abundance.

Mediterranean Meanderings

After breakfast (still no evidence of that marvellous cherry yogurt that I had the first morning), we grabbed our bags and headed for the car, parked a few blocks away.  Norman found a wonderful Conde Naste article that mentioned Cassis as a good destination so there we went.  It is the quintessential Mediterranean coastal town, alive with French visitors – the colours are so vibrant and the sea enticing, but cold.  There were a number of topless mermaids lounging on the beach, to the delight of a couple of (male) people.  After a picnic lunch, we split up and I had a good time snapping pictures up and down the alleys.  I can’t get enough of the flowers and the painted shutters. It is hard to describe the sky, which is almost a violet blue.  It affects every other colour, creating an entense pallette.

Tiring of Cassis, we headed toward our B&B in Vence, just north of Nice.  The drive was very twisty and narrow and elicited a few gasps from Mary and I.  Doug masterfully kept us from driving over the precipice and, despite the weird road configurations,he and Norman got us to Vence in time for dinner.  It was a beautiful trip.  I should mention that we are not far from the Cannes Film Festival, which may account for the many people in the area.

Our B&B is called Aux 3Lits Qui Chantent –which means Three Singing Beds. It is run by Jean-Louis and Sara Jane.  They stressed that we must lock the front door as we came and went and then forgot to show us how, but it was locked when we returned!  The place is well kept and modern on the inside and  our hosts are tres charment.

Bon Nuit.  Tomorrow we are off to Monocco.

Did I mention that Xmas nativities here customarly have a shepherd holding his hat because of the mistral (which, thankfully, est disparu).

Hilltop Towns

Yesterday, we took off in the car and visited the seaside town of Saintes Maries de la Mer, where we wandered through the market and picked up the fixings for lunch.  This area is famous for white horses, which are everywhere.  The French make this a vacation destination and take part in the various opportunities  for trail-riding.  En route, we also spotted the local flamingos.
Next, we visited the two hilltop towns of Roussillon and Gordes, both around 1000 years old.  The views of the outlying countryside was spectacular.  These spots are tightly controlled - I can't imagine that McDonalds has a hope in hell of ever locating here - mostly art stores, gift shops and expensive ladies wear.  I enjoyed getting off the commercial  roads and finding the residential alleys, where roses wind up the ancient buildings and old men sit watching the world`go by.
Today, we say goodbye to Hotel du Musee and we are off to Vence.

Awake in Arles

At 3:30 this morning, I was awake.  Lucky Doug woke too, but in typical fashion was able to roll over and return to sleep.  At 7am, he joined me in wakefulness and we went downstairs for breakfast.  Mary and Norman joined us a little later - we were not sure that they had even arrived , but they had travelled by train from Holland, reaching Arles after we had retired for the evening.  It was a relief to know that a they were safely here, because we had not thought to arrange any back-up plan to connect should anything go wrong.
We spent the morning, wandering around the city, inspecting Roman ruins, downing cappacinos and finally enjoying a yummy lunch.  Van Gogh painted here and many of his important works are from the area.  We followed a self-guided walking tour of his locations.  Think Starry Night, Cafe on the Terrace.
Arles is experiencing a Mistral (wind) today.  I hope it blows intself out before long.  If I had to deal with such weather often, I'd cut my ear off too!
It is sunny and warm and the light is extraordinary.  Every colour is jewel-like. 
We've just had a little afternoon siesta.  Doug visited the Roman baths and a 12th century church, while I snoozed.  By tomorrow, I will have achieved a "normal" sleeping pattern.

Patience in Paris

We have landed at Charles de Gaulle airport.  Our air travel came in three parts:  Victoria/Vancouver; Vancouver/Montreal; and Montreal/Paris.  The experience reached the expected degree of discomfort, but I enjoyed the meal and “pigged out” on movies.  For the second time, I watched The King’s Speech and again cried at the conclusion.  Enjoyed ”Genius Within : the  Inner Life of Glen Gould and Toy Story 3.( I teared up at the end of this one too, but I was over-tired  at this point).  Also, saw Another Year and part of Blue Valentine.

We had enough time at Charles de Gaulle to become well-acquainted with the terminal and easily caught our train to Arles.  The signature colour of the building is pink.  How French.

 Un Tip pour les Toilettes:  The airport and rail station are one building.  Washrooms are free in the airport.  They cost .50E in the rail station. How French (encore).

We have found our little room at Hotel du Musee in Arles - small, but comfortable and overlooking a very charming courtyard garden.

Fashion Law: If the Shoe Fits, it’s Ugly.

My travel outfit is totally dedicated to comfort: stretchy, elastic-waist pants, slipper socks and a couple of sweaters, layered over a short-sleeve blouse.  This should cover all circumstances.  I can unpeel the sweaters, should the atmosphere in the plane be claustrophobically warm and stuffy or I can confidently, yet politely reject those thin detention-camp “blankets” that are offered, in favour of my own cozy ensemble, if I feel chilly.   Of course, I will carry the usual distractions - lipstick, notebook.  But the most important item of all is a toothbrush and oh-so tiny toothpaste tube.  I cannot abide going overnight without brushing my teeth.

Packing, Packaging and Panicing

In olden days, I would have packed a steamer trunk for a trip like this one ahead of us.  It would hold a variety of gowns and dresses for specific occasions, dainty gloves, linens and maybe a weighty book. Interesting compartments would hold pen and paper.  Today, I travel with a soft-sided pack.  I have found a pair of walking poles that collapse to 26 inches, easily contained in my bag.  I've down-loaded a number of books onto my e-reader.  Gortex will keep me warm; Gravol will make me sleep; and gusto will keep me going.  I am taking an embarrassment of gadgets - digital camera, bed light, recharger, netbook and a snakepit of cables. (I have no idea to which device each one belongs!) Am I really a steamer trunk sort of girl? 

Getting Ready

My "Title" is misleading because I am not getting ready yet.  I am thinking about getting ready.  There has been so much busy-ness that I haven't exactly applied myself to the fairly tedious task of making decisions about clothes, creating lists for Dean or even courting normal neuroses about leaving the house, plants, dog and son behind.  It might be a good thing.  If I am more spontaneous about this trip, the experience could be quite different.  The creation of this blog is the first step in my preparedness
I am a little worried about the garden.  Nothing is planted because of the dismal weather, so we will be way behind schedule when we return.  Will anything besides petunias be available at the garden centre?
Not that there is anything wrong with petunias.