This was difficult for me to do — narrowing it down to just ten — seems like every place I went had something special about it — like the French village with live chickens and ducks for sale in the square — or the brasserie in a small town where I sat each afternoon at a table outside with some locals trying to communicate over a glass of wine — or the isolated hamlet I was passing through and had a run-in with a flock of chickens over who “owned” the center of the dirt road — or the town in Northern Ireland where I went shopping to find a replacement sweatshirt for one I had lost and a store clerk said “Follow me” and walked me four blocks to another store that carried what I was looking for — it seems like every town had a "memorable” story. Below are ten, not in any particular order.
Paris, FR — a major cosmopolitan city with old world charm, world class museums, the Seine River, the Eiffel Tower, lovely Hausmann architecture, tree-lined
streets, wonderful bakeries, local butchers, produce markets, cafes — a great city for relaxing outdoors over a glass of wine or beer or a cup of coffee
and just watching people pass bye.
Brugge, BE — truly a step back in time, narrow cobble-stone streets, gorgeous architecture, quaint boutiques, great chocolate shops, small lakes and streams,
parks for strolling, well maintained historical sites, good food— a magical experience — probably my favorite of all the cities on this adventure
St Tropez, FR — not so much the town as the picture postcard beaches, the blue water and fantastic white puffy clouds against a deep blue sky — a place to
easily loll away a day, a week, a lifetime — and just let the world pass you bye
Castletownshend, IRE — a small village set on an inlet of the Atlantic nestled below majestic craggy towering cliffs — the view, from the B&B on the cliffs,
of the afternoon storm clouds in the distance, the gorgeous yellow-sand beach below, the moon slowly rising over the shimmering
water at night — a ten million dollar view!
Beaune, FR — an eighteenth century city surrounded on all sides by lush green vineyards terracing up and over the hillsides — cycling through the green fields
under the hot sun and deep blue skies was an unforgettable, almost surreal experience
I’le de Rey, FR — a lazy little village of one and two story tall, sand-colored, stuccoed houses with clay tiled roofs set on the shores of the Atlantic — wonderful
yellow-sand beaches hiding behind tuilly-covered sand dunes — blue skies, white clouds — neighboring harbors lined with tall-masted sailboats
waiting to catch the soft breezes — for all appearances, a million miles away from modern day civilization
New Mills, Wales — a tiny hamlet (so small, I never found it) — in the middle of the north Wales countryside, deep, tree-covered valleys suddenly giving way
to breath-taking two hundred and seventy degree views stretching twenty miles into the distance, sheep languidly grazing in the meadows,
birds soaring above and except for the gentle breeze blowing, so quiet you could literally hear a pin drop — so dark at night, it felt like you
could see a million, million stars twinkling in the skies above your head — I walked twenty feet out the front door of the cottage and picked
ripe, juicy apples off the trees in the surrounding orchard
Bailey, FR — an idylic little village where time seemed to have stood still -- quaint, charming with a beautiful, mature tree-lined, wide river languidly meandering
bye — flowing over a low weir creating a mini-waterfall effect — still can’t believe the winery tucked away deep in the limestone caves
Port Issac, ENG — a wonderfully picturesque fishing village situated on the SW toe of Cornwall — pastel, one and two story, cut stone houses clinging to the
cliff-sidessurrounding a small harbor, struggling to keep from falling into the sea — just as a fishing village should look — narrow, steep streets
lined with quaint shops — smiling female shopkeepers wearing white frilly aprons and gruff fishermen in stained, full-length, brownish leather
ones — a beautiful blue-green sea lapping on the stony harbor beach with dogs excitedly retrieving sticks and tennis balls from the surf,
splashing in the water way more than they needed to — a place to just sit and watch the clouds slowly pass bye overhead, casting grey
shadows on the water
Blois, FR — a medium-sized town, sitting astride the Loire River, with an extremely well-preserved Medieval quarter — super-steep, narrow, winding alleyways
lined with three-story houses whose doors literally opened right into the alleys — memorable to me as the place where I spent two nights alone,
locked in an eleventh century castle keep which had been pretty much untouched (and unimproved) for the last three hundred years — an
unforgettable experience (even without clanging chains and unearthly wails in the night)
