France with the family

Bon journee'

debjn — Tue, 12 Jul 2011 22:26:00 GMT

Tuesday dawned sunny and cool. Weather was supposed to be sunny and warm. We made it through early rush hour on the metro and RER with our bags and dignity intact. Not a small feat. I did notice a significant improvement in our ability to navigate huge long stairways and escalators with all bags attached. We have walked so much in this time, that we are all feeling much better at the end than at the beginning.

So, we check into the airport and navigate the terminals to where they quarantine American bound flights. This seems to be the new way of handling our security concerns, place our planes in the farthest terminals. This was true in Brussels and London -- a small sample I admit but one that makes me wonder...

Back to basics -- we check in and head to the Admiral's Club. Well, who wanders in but Tony Bennett. I had a total fan moment and then Bill did and so did the rest of the people in the area. Although I must say, everyone looked and then left him in peace. I was thrilled and now have a story that will make my mother happy. So, as I prepared to leave a piece of my heart in Paris, we came across the man who gave us great loving music about that other great city, San Francisco.

The sky opened up and poured great buckets of rain just before we were set to board. I like to think that Paris was sad to see us leave.

Sunday - July 10 - Midnight in Paris, the lost generation and so on...

debjn — Tue, 12 Jul 2011 22:00:00 GMT

We made it to "Shakespeare & Co". Somehow I expected to be there with silence and the ghosts of the lost generation. What was I thinking? It was jam packed with visitors and monitored by two very annoyed Americans working the cash registers. But, nothing is all a bad thing. I found my 'souvenir' of the trip. A copy of Alice B. Toklas' cookbook. Yes, this can be passed from one generation to another and I/we can use it as a companion to Julia Child as we try to re-create some of the wonderful food we've enjoyed.

After a fruitless but fabulous walk around this section of Paris looking for the steps on which Gill waits for his taxi in "Midnight in Paris" we decided to hang out on this beautiful summer's day in the Jardin de Luxembourg. It was delightful and we watched parents with children, some odd pick-up game of basketball, dozens of tennis players and of course lovers and their park gymnastics. I love that parks in Paris have moveable chairs as well as benches and tables. It allows for that moveable feast - as the action moves so do you.

Bon Soir

debjn — Tue, 12 Jul 2011 01:50:00 GMT

It's early evening on a beautiful summer's day in Paris. We head home tomorrow and connectivity is quite difficult the last couple of days. Perhaps I'll write what has been happening while on the plane and add later. Suffice to say, we are on the way to our happy time at the local brasserie. Planch d' fromage and a mojito await.

This it the part of modern travel that amazes. Tonight we sleep in Paris and tomorrow - with bon chance -- we sleep at home.

Au revoir and bon journee'

Monday - the countdown to reality begins in earnest

debjn — Mon, 11 Jul 2011 23:24:00 GMT

Last day in Paris - what to do??? Not enough time for Versailles (this goes on the list for next time) and we can't really manage the Louvre again (or more specifically the people in the Louvre).

La voila! Notre Dame and Cemetiere du Pere Lachaise. Why not start with the Gothic view of God and end with Jim Morrison's grave? A certain symmetry in that. Needless to say, Notre Dame is still magnificent - the rose windows in the transept are just breathtaking.

Oddly though, the greatest passion of the day was at the cemetary. It was amazing to watch multiple generations of people visit the grave of a man who lived for only 27 years and departed this mortal plane 41 years ago. The youngest visitor while we there was about 2 years of age and we were not the oldest to walk to the site -- by a long shot. Quite astonishing. People with their iPods on, sitting and listening to his music, humming along and swaying to the rhythms. It was almost like you could hear the song they were playing by watching their bodies move. People have taken to writing notes of thanks on the couple of trees near the grave site -- many were beautiful and touching. There was even art work involved with some of the messages.

This was of course followed by our last full meal at the Cafe' Sarah Bernhard. Croque madames or steak and pommes frites. Either way it worked.

J'ai de la chance

debjn — Sun, 10 Jul 2011 07:51:00 GMT

We must finally be in vacation mode. It's Sunday morning, we've had a delightful petit dejeuner (which is breakfast that is anything but petit). I can bearly stay awake I am so filled with goodness from the cows and chickens of France. This morning the biggest plans we have are to pack and remain vertical...

Yesterday we wandered around the city and spent several hours in the Italian section of the Louvre. The bad part of this is fighting the crowds who look for the Mona Lisa. The good part is that once you have passed the room the Mona Lisa is in, the crowds thin and they are much more polite. Sterling has been a revelation in the museums, taking the lead as he moves us from one section/period/origin of the works to another.

He should teach history because he makes connections between the politics, wars, leaders and the 'normal' people, the modes of thought and available tools to what we are seeing. The other tour members have remarked on his ability at 20 to see and think globally using history as a benchmark.

I have turned the map and plans to him, because he has really brought this visit alive for Bill and I in a wonderful and unexpected way. Thank you foothills history and literature programs, he may be a science and numbers guy but you've helped to create a well-rounded adult who has the chance to become a citizen of more than his provincial area.

Before the Louvre we stopped at the Musee Gustave Moreau. His work depressed me because he left so many unfinished projects (with lots of excuses) that it reminded me of my own process. After the Louvre we visited Musee de Cluny which is an active archaeological dig in the center of St. Germaine. The church is medieval and underneath are the remains of the Gallo-roman baths from the time that Paris was known as Lutetia to the 'civilized' world. The loveliest aspect of the visit was lying in the medieval garden that is part of the city but somehow set apart. Delicious.

For today, we will walk and enjoy the area Opera Garnier until mid-day then head off for the Latin Quarter and St. Germain des Pres - back to our first hotel and it is the final one of our stay.

Today is the day we visit Shakespeare and Co. and look for the stairway from "Midnight in Paris". Perhaps we will do this at midnight with a bottle of wine from Burgundy.

Rue de Drouote

debjn — Sat, 9 Jul 2011 17:40:00 GMT

We were chasing around looking for a different hotel for our last two nights -- frankly a stay in the area of Gare du Nord was not in the cards. I suspected as much when I made the original reservation, but now that we've been at the area of Opera Garnier and stayed in St. Germaine des pres I realize that I've worked too hard for too long to stay in a dodgy area.

On the hunt, we ended up traversing an area where there were truck drivers with loads of antiques and art from all over France (you can tell the origin of the truck or car by the last two digits of the license plate). The goods were destined for this area that I think is called Rue de Drouote. It's an area of back alleys and covered walkways from medieval times that house art and antiquity dealers. Since I am ignorant of what would qualify as worthy, this was a journeyman's tour through what is probably a most interesting area for dealers and visitors who have a knowledge of this world. Nonetheless it was fun to see what what was being unloaded and watching the jostling for position by the drivers and the dealers.

The dealers seemed to take no precautions, doors and windows were open to the street. Of course, there were only three tourists wandering this area - I guess we were off the beaten path for tourists. No photos, we didn't think that would be appreciated...

back to Paris

debjn — Fri, 8 Jul 2011 20:00:00 GMT

Friday we traveled back to Paris by bus. The countryside between Normandy and Paris is beautiful and devoted to growing grain. The major crops include flax which was formerly used in France but is now shipped to China for making linen. Flax is now being harvested and they use an interesting technique. Each 'grain' plant is uprooted and left to lay on it's side to dry in place. At a later date, the flax will be wound into bundles for further processing -- and I think some sorting for quality.

The other grain crops here include wheat for the lovely french breads and pastries, rapeseed which produces canola and is used for green energy for autos, and then there is corn grown for the cattle & pork. This is a silage type of corn that is very different from our sweet corn and it is not consumed by humans.

The wheat crop here is early and yielding less than normal due to the lack of rain during the past months. So, the European wheat crop is light this year and prices will surely rise. Couple this with the difficulties of the American wheat crops this year. U.S. farmers are either plowing their fields under (drought in the middle and southern plains) or not getting the planting done (due to floods in northern plains). Sounds like time to 1) stock up on pasta and 2) start playing with futures in wheat.

Already, riots are resurfacing in grain mono-cultures like Egypt due to rising food prices. It could be a very difficult time until the next harvest for many people.

D Day Revisited

debjn — Thu, 7 Jul 2011 22:30:00 GMT

Thursday, July 07, 2011

Today was quite extraordinary. First of all there was rain and at times a lot of rain. This was spectacular and although the region looks pretty green to us, everyone is excited that their drought appears to be finished.

For touring today, we were fortunate to spend the day with a gentleman named William Jordan (no relation). He was encyclopedic about WWII and D-day in particular. Not only was he filled with information, but he was an uncanny impersonator switching from Winston Churchill, to Montgomery to Roosevelt imitations in an instant. Fantastic way to learn!

We toured the beaches of Normandy and visited the American Cemetery at Sur la Mer. This is the cemetery where Bill’s uncle, 1^st Lt. Nelson D. Willis is interred. As far as we know, we are the first family to have visited Nelson’s grave.

It was an interesting process so I’ll give a little outline of what happened. After passing through security to get into the memorial, there is a desk at which families can request an escort to the grave site. After a few questions, the staff pulls up the necessary information about the soldier interred, puts together a packet of information and they whisk you away in a special golf cart – it’s enclosed and is extended so that it can carry 6 people. You go directly to the gravesite.

Once at the gravesite (and anywhere you go there are a sea of graves – it is an incredible sight to see and it really cuts to the heart) the staff member places an American flag “in the right hand of the fallen soldier” and a French flag “in the left hand of the fallen soldier”, they then take moistened sand from Omaha Beach and rub it into the etched letters and numbers that identify and mark the grave – the sand allows one to see the information better on the beautiful white Italian marble of the marker. This also provides for better photos.

It is impossible to describe the feelings of being there.

Once we finished, I inquired how we might find out more information about the circumstances of Nelsons’ service and death. It turns out that they had several pages of information about the mission that he was on and specific information about how he was killed. A wonderful young historian was eager to speak with us and here is a brief synopsis of what he found for us:

Nelson is the only man buried among the more than 9,000 at the Normandy cemetery who flew with a Night Fighting Squadron (in fact there is only one other pilot from his squadron buried in France and that gentleman is interred in the very far eastern part of France). Nelson piloted a plane nicknamed the ‘widow maker’, the P38. Sadly it turns out that Nelson was killed the day after Paris was liberated, on August 25, 1944. His squad had flown across the channel and was working reconnaissance for infantry and (I think) bombers. The squad encountered some flak and apparently Nelson began losing altitude – the cause is not clear but one can imagine. One wing of the P38 clipped a post and he crashed into a bridge. He was 20 when he died and he had been a pilot for a little over a year.

Bill will be able to supply them with photos of Nelson for the archive. They’ve also asked for pictures of his widow and family, so we will work on getting permission for adding his widow’s picture to the archive.

Nelson’s widow lives about 5 miles from us and has never remarried. So we are eager to share the information we’ve found.

It’s a funny thing. Bill only met Nelson when he was a toddler and Sterling and I have never met him. But after the time we’ve spent with Jane (Bill’s mom and Nelson’s sister) and Shirley (Nelson’s widow), and then way back with the oldest brother Wally we feel like Nelson has always and in some odd way been a presence in and with the family. Jane and Shirley remained very close until Jane’s death, speaking daily on the phone and calling each other sister until the end. There was no family gathering without some mention of Nelson or how Jane, her parents and Shirley came to rely upon each other after losing Nelson.

I was overcome with such a sad feeling knowing that there is a similar story for each of the crosses and stars of David we saw today. There was a mom, a dad, a wife, kids, sweetheart, and/or siblings for each of the graves.

From 1066 to 1944, and still we haven't learned

debjn — Tue, 5 Jul 2011 19:02:00 GMT

July 5

Yesterday we visited the Bayeux Tapestry. The word tapestry confused me as I expected a large wall hanging contained in one room. Instead, this is a long (about 68 meters) piece of light colored linen that is wrapped around the walls of a building that reminds one of being in a moat (an experience we’ve had at the Louvre and at the Paris Crypts). The cloth contains remarkable embroidery that tells (graphically) the story of the Battle of Hastings which was fought in 1066 – basically the Norman Conquest. The needlework is extraordinary and the origin is disputed – it may be French but is more likely created in England. As with all things regarding the Norman Conquest there is the French version and then there is the British version. Our instructor (Anne-Marie) insists that if the British had the same texts available, they would know better. C’est la vie.

After an incredible meal for lunch (my first pork of this trip), we visited the Caen Memorial. Caen was nearly destroyed by the allies during the D-Day Invasion so it is a fitting place to pay tribute to the French experience of WWII. Needless to say this was a very emotional time for everyone we are traveling with. I was almost OK until we got to the part that spoke to how we distance ourselves from our worst actions. In this section of the museum, there is the text of a letter sent by a young Austrian draftee to the German Army. The letter was sent to his wife and two young children. In the text he describes his work on the firing squad as the Jewish families are being ‘chosen and separated’ for immediate death or work camps. It is very descriptive and I am crying as I remember his chilling description of parents tossing their children in the air to try to save them from the bullets – and how on the second time at the firing line this young father and his comrades began to strafe in circles to make sure to deal with the entire problem efficiently.

This museum was the most graphic war memorial I have ever visited. The people who put it together did not hold back and edit out what might be disturbing. I wonder if this is so that perhaps we will remember the horror of war and not the glory that is portrayed?

Tomorrow Bill, Sterling and I are heading to a museum in L’Havre that specializes in impressionist art – they have the second largest collection of impressionist paintings in France. Second to the Musee d’Orsay, which delighted all of us.

Bon soiree’ mon amis…

Why are the churches so fabulous in Europe?

debjn — Mon, 4 Jul 2011 07:30:00 GMT

Apparently churches are so amazing here because they were part of the town selling themselves as a place to develop commerce. They wanted the spires to be as high as possible, the buildings to reflect latest technologies and set new architectural styles. All of this was meant to attract business, investment, and commerce.

We’ve seen four amazing churches in the last two days. First is the basilica St. Therese in a small town that was nearly entirely destroyed during WWII named Lisieux. Built in the 1920’s in the byzantine style, it was unlike any church that I have seen before. It is an amazing and surprisingly recent building -- it seems ancient. There is a crypt underneath that has mosaics that take your breath away. Sterling’s comment was that this church reflected a happier view of religion than did anything he saw in Rome.

The second church, the cathedral in Rouen, is a beautiful example of a different style and era. Built in medieval times, Monet painted this cathedral many times and it reflects the gothic style of ‘reaching toward God’ – tall, with multiple spires this cathedral was quite damaged with the April 1944 bombings and the repairs do not cover the damage. But, the grandeur is not necessarily diminished by the remaining physical damage, it does seem more vulnerable though.

We visited a much smaller church in Honfleur that is the only wooden church in Normandy. It reflects the Romanesque style that the Danes brought with them (it reminded me a modest version of the cathedral in Roskilde). The church was framed and built of wood and inside you feel that you are inside an upside down ships hull. It is quite exquisite.

Finally, we visited the new church in Rouen (built in the 1970's) that replaced the church bombed out on the place where St. Joan of Arc was burned. The folks of Normandy removed the stained glass windows of the original church and hid them from the Germans during WWII. Fortunately they did this but the real damage was done by the American bombers in the Normandy struggles in April 1944 and the old church was destroyed. The new church is framed by metal with wooden surfaces and again it is like being inside the upside down hull of a large wooden ship. The old windows are intact and frame the north wall of this remarkable structure. This church has a most remarkable feeling of peace.

So, here is the difference between a cathedral, basilica, and church: Cathedrals house the bishop and have special altars that the bishops (and higher order members of the clergy) use when they officiate at services. Weddings, funerals, mass, baptisms can all take place in cathedrals.

Basilicas are only used for limited activities. They can have mass there. But no marriages, no baptisms or funerals can be held there.

Churches – any activity related to the church can be held there – baptisms, marriages, funerals, masses.

Not sure how I made it this long not knowing this!

Happy 4th of July!!!

Food

debjn — Mon, 4 Jul 2011 06:38:00 GMT

I expected good food, but this is really ridiculous. Everything is so good here. I have decided that I am on the fish and dairy and fresh vegetable tour. At every turn we have great food. Here is today’s menu:

Breakfast consisted of local cheeses and yogurts and coffee

Lunch was lightly grilled salmon with a ragout of fresh zucchini, tomatoes, and eggplant. The dessert was crème’ brulee’ and a café aux lait.

Dinner was Salade Nordique (incredibly fresh greens with lightly smoked salmon, some shrimp, citrus garnish and a dilled yogurt dressing). This was followed by a light dessert of Ile’s Flottande Caramelisee’ (floating island in crème Anglaise with a light drizzle of caramelized Calvados).

Don’t get me started on the pommes fritte last week in Paris at the Café Sarah Bernhardt or dinner last night at St. Hippolyte.

You don't always get what you want...

debjn — Mon, 4 Jul 2011 06:27:00 GMT

You don’t always get what you want…

So, we are wandering around the town of Honfleurs, a beautiful and intact (it was not bombed in WWII) town on the Normandy coast. I look up at a city building in the port area and notice that this is the spot from which Champlain sailed in the late 1600’s. Who knew? To make a long story short, my dad’s aunt put together an extensive family history in the 1960’s and one of the great(time’s about 5 or more) grandfathers came to Canada with Champlain. He was supposed to be working as a translator – but I am unclear how that would work.

Nonetheless, the revelation is interesting because of the connection to Normandy – this on my paternal side. The name Normandy comes from “men of the north” meaning specifically the Danes – my mom’s side. Our tour guide is quite taken with this idea that all my roads (so to speak) lead to Normandy.

No wonder this place feels like home, it was genetically speaking one of my native places.

Steam Punk in Paris

debjn — Sun, 3 Jul 2011 06:19:00 GMT

Friday

This Metro thing is very cool, to get to CdeG airport to meet our MIT group we merely had to take the #4 Metro SB to Denfort-Rocherau, climb 56 stairs to the RER B and jump on board. Took us three tries to get a train that was not jammed. It was Saturday morning and we were sure the trains would be empty – how wrong we were. What we didn’t know – but we started to figure things out when we saw young people in costumes – was that there was a giant Anime’ exposition at the Paris Exposition (the train stop before the airport). There we were, sitting amongst our luggage on a too crowded train filled with young people dressed as their favorite Anime’ characters. It was like Steam Punk meets Louis the 15th’s court at Versailles.

The French word for bread is pain

debjn — Sun, 3 Jul 2011 06:15:00 GMT

The bread experiment ended in the Louvre. One way to learn how to read the crazy map of the Louvre is to have to find every toilette in the complex. Friday was our day at the Louvre. The best part of the day was trailing behind Sterling as he discovered treasure after treasure that re-anchored him in the European history studies that he loved. The coup of the day was the tablet of Hamarabi (sp?). This is the first written code of law. The Hamarabi code has been an interest of his since Mr. Torres’ 8^th grade world studies class. It was exciting for him to see the ‘real thing’ and deeply satisfying as a parent to bring the two of them together.

Getting lost doesn’t skip generations…

Earlier I mentioned that the Louvre intimidates me. Part of this is based upon my experience at 19 in the underground section of the Egyptian works. I was very happy to see that this section was closed for renovation during this visit. However, there is another area in the Louvre that is devoted to ‘other’ Egyptian art. Sterling wanted to visit this and I had happily turned map management over to him. Well, we found ourselves quite lost amongst the dizzying twists and turns of this section of the museum. Once we realized the irony of this situation, we were laughing so hard that tears flowed. It isn’t so funny in the writing, but it will certainly become one of my grandmother stories in the future.

To sum up the Louvre – we are going back once we return to Paris. We are determined to re-visit the Dutch masters at a slower pace and to spend most of the day in the Renaissance art. Big, massive, enormous, overwhelming, mind-numbing do not begin to describe the Louvre.

Bill has decided that Paris (and I expect this to expand to include the Normandy coast) is addictive for a photographer. It is early morning as I write this and he is out in the morning light taking photographs. So, the days are very long right now. I forget that Paris is actually north of New York (I always think of France as Southern Europe but that is not really accurate). Anyway, the light begins to break before 5 AM and it is dusk from about 6 PM until 11:00 PM, it isn’t truly dark until after midnight. So we are out walking at all hours and Bill is camera ready. His work is so beautiful; perhaps he will let me share some photos here.

Pickpockets

debjn — Sun, 3 Jul 2011 06:03:00 GMT

We used the Metro exclusively while in Paris. Mostly it was a great experience and it was fun figuring out how to get from point A to point B. But, then there was Friday afternoon during rush hour. So, on Friday, exiting the Louvre (after spending the entire day roaming around the museum and will go back once we leave Normandy), we were swept into a very crowded Metro station on the Rue de Rivoli.

I gave Sterling a quick warning to make sure his passport was tucked inside his shirt. Although he initially greeted me with a roll of the eyes and a “not again”. The pick pockets were out (apparently en masse) because between the place we got on the Metro and the next stop, a young woman tried to pick Bill’s camera bag and a gross old man had his hand in my left pants pocket. Bill kindly placed his hand on the young woman’s, made eye contact and she left at the next stop. For me, I leaned onto the man’s hand against the vertical post. Not a good ‘pick’ for either of them. The only things in my pocket were a lomotil pill and my lip balm.

Flexibility is key...

debjn — Sun, 3 Jul 2011 06:00:00 GMT

On Wed, June 29 we set off for the Catacombs, which is in the Montparnasse arondissement. Then we saw the long line waiting to get in so we decided to each lunch instead. It was another fabulous meal at the corner of a small walking alley lined with food vendors. Fishmongers, wine, fromage and charcuterie sellers lined the alley. We had a ringside seat as the locals celebrated the cooling temps with a parade of beautiful clothing.

Apparently during my food induced stupor of ecstasy I agreed to let Sterling map the remainder of the day. So, it became climbing day. We wandered around the Pigalle (home of the Moulin Rouge and other night time entertainments). It was fun because I located a small pensione that my brother Matt and I stayed at during the ‘80’s. Tucked away in a very quiet corner of this lively district, it was fun to see after so many years. Then it was off to find the Cemetary of Montmartre and then up to the Sacre Couer (highest natural point in the city) and then to the Arc de Triomphe to climb to the top.

I thought that this might not be the best idea for Bill and myself – each is a jaunt let alone serially. It turned out we didn’t struggle as much as many of the younger folks in the narrow, enclosed spiral stairway tower to the top. Victory and views of the entire city were the reward. It was rush hour so we were able to watch some of the famous chaotic traffic around the Arc before we hit the Metro and found our way back to a little Happy Time at our local brasserie.

On Thursday we decided to face the big museums. Frankly the Louvre is just overwhelming and having been lost amongst the Egyptian antiquities in the mid-70’s (I was very young), it has remained a bit of a force to be reckoned with for me.

Instead we started the day (and then lingered long into the afternoon) at the Musee d’Orsay. Perhaps my favorite museum of all time (although the Norton Simon and Glyptotek and Palace of the Legion of Honor run neck and neck and neck and…). Filled with Impressionist works, pre-Rafaelites (the romantics) and a healthy dose of furniture and architecture as art this reconfigured train station has the most amazing light and the architecture leaves you with an idea of how people travelled in the past – within each small section of the museum, the names of the train destinations are still present, carved at the top of the stone pillars in each corner.

The plan was to spend the late afternoon at the Louvre, map out the ‘highlights’ (from 300,000 pieces of art?????) and see what we could see, return Friday and see what we could see. Well, we detoured to the Café de Marly overlooking the glass pyramid at the Louvre. The people watching was too delicious. The rich people at the tables around us, the throngs/hoards/masses streaming by below us taking photos of themselves and loved ones holding the pyramid between their fingers, lolling about on the grounds facing the Tuilleries or just generally hanging out. When it occurred to us (that stupor of food again) that we needed to at least get a map, we were too late by 3 minutes…oh well back to the view.

For bookclub - re: "Sarah's Key" connection

debjn — Sat, 2 Jul 2011 05:57:00 GMT

We were walking toward the Seine, having exited at the Bir Hakeim Metro station, and came across a small triangle of grass with an historic sign. The words Vel d’Hivre caught my eye. It turned out that this was the site of the round up of Jewish women and children that we read about in “Sarah’s Key”. Once back at the station, we saw that on the other side of the tracks there is a small memorial to the victims. I had forgotten but was reminded that none of the children survived the round-up and fewer than a dozen mothers survived at the end of the war.

It is one thing to read stories (historical fiction) about the terrible things that we do to each other during conflict and war. It is another thing to stand at the site of the velodrome where so many people – women and children mostly – were held and then sent to concentration camps. A sobering experience in the middle of this beautiful place.

Rooftop living

debjn — Fri, 1 Jul 2011 07:25:00 GMT

Day Two:

Our room is what you might call a garret. It’s probably the original attic but the benefit is that we see the rooftops of the surrounding neighborhood. It’s almost identical to a stay we had in the Netherlands – I am beginning to think that to accommodate more than two in a room in old European buildings they reconfigure the attic and stick in an extra bed or two under the odd angles of the rooftop. Fine by me because we get views from the top.

So for this stay, we have low, angled ceilings and beams that are quite low (Sterling has a dent on the top of his head from not going quite low enough), with screenless windows cut in between. So, you can stand in between the beams and hang your head out the windows cut into the roof. Nothing prepared us for the view. I expected some wonderful rooftop views of the surrounding buildings, but once we got back and it was dark I stuck my head out of the window and to my surprise the view is the Eiffel Tower. I lie in bed at night reading my Kindle and turn my head to see the Eiffel Tower. What an unexpected pleasure.

Tuesday we spent part of the day looking for the Bastille. To Sterling’s great disappointment the site is now an opera house and there is only a small, neglected mall in recognition of this site. But, then we walked into the Marais district heading back to the Seine. The Marais is an old section of Paris, largely untouched by Napoleons’ grand scheme of re-creating the city with broad boulevards, grand streets, and impressive buildings. I guess that Napoleon (the first) was really the first government entity that destabilized neighborhoods for the ‘greater good’. Paris is wonderful as it is – although traditionalists would argue against the modern (and that would date back to the ‘modern’ buildings from Napoleons’ time). But, when you wander through the Marais you have the sense of what medieval Paris was like. In particular around Place des Vosges, you begin to see what these traditionalists are talking about. There is an intimacy and beauty that is lost in other arondissements. This is a very special place.

In the Marais, Bill found a museum devoted to the history of Paris called the Musee Carnavalet. Set in two former townhouses (this doesn’t describe the place in any true sense as combined they have more than 100 rooms). This museum is a gem and entirely devoted to Parisian art and culture and history – all by way of indigenous art. Small by comparison to the Louvre – it is still impossible to see in one day We ran into a young guy from Mountain View (my old neighborhood in the Bay Area) who is a student of French history – he helped us fill in some of the many blanks that we had. Although Sterling has studied European History and has been helping Bill and I understand many things, we were thankful for the added insight of our young American friend. We found so much to enjoy that the guards shooed us out of the museum so that they could close.

I don’t know how one cannot love Paris. Every street corner brings a new opportunity to discover something wonderful. For instance, yesterday (Wednesday) Sterling took over the mapping of our walk. He wanted to go to Espace Dali which is in the Montmartre not far from Sacre Couer. We wound around from the cemetery on Rue de Lepic. It was amazing. Every few feet our jaws dropped at the architecture, the gardens, the crypts – just an amazing walk with views that peeked out to the city from this highest natural point in the city. I don’t have the words to describe it.

The adventure begins

debjn — Fri, 1 Jul 2011 07:20:00 GMT

Day one…The trip started on a very auspicious note. We were upgraded to first class for the flight to Dallas. It was a ride to savor because there was no way that this would happen on the flight from Dallas to Paris. Sure enough, we were in the cattle car section DFW to ChdeG.

But, any way to get to Paris is OK for me. We landed at about 9:30 AM and headed off to figure out how to catch the train to central Paris. We were greeted at the ticket booth by the most wonderful ticket agent. She sold us on the idea of the NaviGo pass which allows us to use RER trains, the Metro (subway) and city buses. I highly recommend the purchase of a NaviGo pass. The agent was such an angel, she mapped our route and train changes and got us to a Metro stop that was on a corner two pie shaped wedges away from our hotel. One could not have been closer to a destination. She was a great help in beginning our first day in Paris.

Our hotel is in the southern part of the arondissement known as the Latin Quarter. We are far enough south of St. Germaine des Pres that we are out of the normal tourist flow. Not many Americans here. We are surrounded by people who live in this neighborhood and we’ve found a fine boulangerie, fruit market and our new local hangout – they have “Happy Time” until 10 PM. There is a Laundromat around the corner, so I could happily live here.

Once at the hotel, too early for a room, we left our bags at the desk and faced a very hot day in the city. We used the day to find the Seine, for me this is the best way to get oriented – again using the wonderful Metro. Why don’t we have good mass transit????

We have seen so many pictures and films set in the central part of Paris that it feels very familiar and comfortable. But, there is nothing like the smell, sounds, and light of being here in person. So, it’s like 98 degrees, we are sitting on a shaded bench along the Seine, looking up at the southern side of Notre Dame and the sound of the language is greeted by the sound of an itinerant accordion player combined with the smell of bread and garlic and onions. Dazzling…

We ended our first day hanging out on the Parc du Champ de Mars with most of Paris. Everyone was outside trying to stay cool. The extra bonus of this location is that it is the extended park at the base of the Eiffel Tower. So, we sat for two hours watching the gendarme lightheartedly chase the ‘illegals’ selling le tour Eiffel tchatke away from the citizens and visitors, clusters of young people passing bottles of wine and demi kegs of beer, young lovers engaged in polite gymnastics, and youngsters chasing ice cream. Then at dusk the tower was lit. C’est magnifique.

Too much information, my quest for simplicity

debjn — Sun, 26 Jun 2011 02:07:00 GMT

When did I begin to need 10 tubes of stuff for my skin?

What about the plan for the house? Fortunately we have the best house sitter on the planet. Kudos and thanks to Steve, he makes it easier for us to leave. He cuts a burly figure and is like glue to the house and animals -- nonetheless, getting the house ready for a vacation takes days and even then the place looks just the same.

Then there is the too much information. Did I really need to know that my first day in Paris would include a high temperature of 94 degrees F? It's ruined the packing plan because now those clunky American sandals and gauche shorts look pretty good...The five books that the tour company recommended. Do I really need another book on Joan of Arc?

It was so much easier to travel before we were all connected. Just coordinating the power cords is like the Paris Peace Talks during the Vietnam War. We needed a round table and no hierarchy and even then we disbanded without agreement. One certainty, there will probably be a trip to Best Buy before the day is out.