This year, we had decided not to come to the US for Christmas, but hadn't really decided what we were going to do. Then our friends Helen and Daron from England decided to invite us to have Christmas with them!!!! They usually do a big Christmas with Daron's family, so they checked if it would be okay if we came, and Daron's parents enthusiastically invited us to come over. Woohoo!!! So our holiday plans were set.
We arrived on the night of Dec. 23rd, after a hellish traveling day. But we slept in the next morning and then had a blissfully relaxing 24th at home. In the evening Daron took us out to see the lights. Anyone who has spent a Christmas with knows that I am like a kid when I go out to see Christmas lights. I gasp, point and clap my hands. But Daron and Helen didn't know this. So, I think they were surprised at my reactions as they pointed out another beautiful light display.
The next morning we all got up around 9 and then to my chagrin they all acted like adults!!!! Fuddy duddying around getting ready for the trip to Daron's family's house, feeding the fish, making tea, cleaning house, showering...oh my gawd it went on FOREVER!!! Until finally I couldn't take it anymore!!! Helen was sitting down with her breakfast and I finally broke. "Pressies!!!!" I exclaimed. "When are we going to do pressies?!" Helen was a bit startled, and Dave burst out laughing. He was wondering how long I'd last. He told Helen that I had been so restrained, but it probably won't last much longer. So, Helen ate her breakfast as politely fast as she could and we all finally sat down in front of the tree.
After our morning Christmas festivities we packed up and headed over to Daron's family's house. We had an amazing time over there. We really did feel like part of the family. Maureen, Daron's mom is so cute. She's this round very maternal looking woman with short blonde hair and she looks so "soft" you just want to hug her all the time. She was wearing a very elegant green outfit for Christmas dinner and so she definitely looked like Mother Christmas. And you should have seen the spread she cooked up for dinner!!! It was incredible! There was turkey and cranberry sauce of course. But she started with a shrimp cocktail atop a salmon mouse. Then the turkey, but she also served Lamb with a delectable mint sauce, grilled sweet parsnips, mashed potatoes, red cabbage, brussel sprouts....the meal seemed to go on forever. She had marked each place setting with a little gift which was charming wrapped. And there was plenty of wine flowing.
Then came the gifts. Dave and I brought some of our own so that we wouldn't make everyone else feel bad that we didn't have anything, but to our surprise Maureen had put together two bulging stockings for us!!!! We felt like little kids pulling all those little goodies out of huge stockings. It was so thoughtful. After gifts, we had bread pudding with custard and cream. Mmmmmm.....a perfect end to a wonderful evening.
The next day Helen's Mom and Dad came to Helen's place and we spent the day with them. I had met Helen's mom before but never her Dad. Both her parents are real characters and had us laughing most of the day. They told us stories of their young adventurous days where they were going to take 5 years to travel around the world. THe were going to do most of their travelling on a motorcycle, but the trip got cut short when they had an accident on thier bike about a couple months into their trip, in the midwest of the US. They talked about it like it was nothing, just par for the course. But, sadly, they needed to end the trip and rethink things. Unfortunately the 5 year trip never happened, but they still had lots of adventures to share with us. Helen's Dad has this huge smile and laughs easily, and her Mom just jibes him lovingly constantly. It was very entertaining. And another great day.
I had worried a bit about how our Christmas would be this year without family. I really missed everyone at home deeply. But I think this Christmas I really learned that Christmas is more about sharing than anything else. And I was able to share with family and friends at home in little ways even from here. And it felt really good. And I also got to experience the way other families share and celebrate. What a wonderful way to end our year on this adventure of ours. It was a fabulous end to an amazing year!
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
Christmas Wonderland
Oh my gawd, I’m FREEZING!!! We just got home from visiting the Christmas markets in Alsace, and I got so chilled to the bone I’m still cold. It was so cold up there that people had all their dogs completely winterproofed. I saw one dog wearing a jacked made of suede with a wool fleece lining! That was on top of his natural long hair fur! That little guy was better dressed than me, and warmer too. I felt so completely unprepared. It’s weird too, because I was wearing more layers of really good “ski wear” on this trip than I wore when we went skiing in the Alpes last winter. But I didn’t freeze during that ski trip. I didn’t realize how cold I could get when it’s not even snowing.
Other than the freezing cold weather, it was actually really sunny and beautiful up in Alsace. The Alsace region has switched hands so many times between the French and the Germans that it has a distinctly Germanic feel to the French towns. The storybook towns boast quaint cobblestone streets lined with German stone timber houses. Each town has a river or two going through it so there are many beautiful bridges decorated with flowers overhanging the sides. On any regular day these towns are magically beautiful, so we were so excited to see them all decked out for Christmas.
And we weren’t disappointed. The towns had been decorated with all of their French and German finery and had a very old world feel to them all. There were lights everywhere. The streets were laced with lights from roof to roof, and there were often even “candle” chandeliers hanging from the strings of lights. All the buildings dripped with pine boughs, red bows, and oversized ornaments. Everywhere we turned it was a true feast for the eyes. Dave laughed often as he’d look at me and I’d be standing there wide-eyed with my mouth hanging open completely taken by another gorgeously decorated house.
A picture of when we first arrived. Even without the lights it's so charming!
One of the decked out houses...
Although the decorations were magnificent, the real draw for us to go to Alsace were the Christmas markets we had heard so much about. We have a friend who lives in Germany and she told us that she always goes up to Strasbourg, Alsace, to shop at the Christmas markets. As the holidays approached, I did some research on the best Christmas markets in the world, and found that Germany actually won as far as having the biggest and oldest Christmas markets in the world. But, Strasbourg has the oldest Christmas market in France. It’s huge and very charming because of the mix of German and French influences. We debated flying to Stutgartt Germany to see the oldest market in the world, and then decided to go to Alsace instead. As we read about the Strasbourg maket, we also saw pictures of the Colmar ones, so we decided to go to both towns.
And in the evenings just felt like it was a Christmas wonderland.
Before we went to Alsace, we did visit our very own Christmas market in Lyon. It is actually very large and very cute, in compared to the markets in the US. But, it wasn’t what we expected. It was very commercial, with lots of “stuff” vendors, just like what you would expect in our part of the world. The Alsacian markets were much closer to what we were hoping to see. The vendors were mostly selling goods that were home-made. There were handknit scarves and hats, hand chisselled wooden boxes and carvings, hand painted pictures and picture frames. There were turned wood toys, adorable marionettes, and more different kinds of soaps, candles, and jewelry than you could imagine. But my favorite things of all, were all the home-cooked products. From liqueurs to gingerbread houses to red candy covered apples. I just couldn’t believe that there was all these fresh breads, fresh cookies, and unbelievable edible delights everywhere I turned. I kept spinning around to look at yet another colorful display of clear wrapped goodies.
Gingerbread hearts....
and good old-fashioned Christmas treats.
And with all that temptation, we couldn’t not eat! We found ourselves constantly picking up another little taste of this or that. On each street corner you’d see a little “train” with someone selling roasted chestnuts and the smell would waft past you as you walked by. Then you’d hear some sweet ladies voice “singing” vin chaud, chocolat chaud! Mulled wine, hot chocolate. We were so cold that we always had a glass of one or the other of these in our hands to keep us warm. And as we strolled around sipping our warm tasty drinks we’d pick up little somethings to complement them such as breaded pretzels,, chocolate dipped churos, gingerbread cookies, or my absolute favorite, chocolate covered fruit kabobs! I’m not kidding! They would cover pieces of pear, strawberry, kiwi, banana, etc with chocolate, dark, white, or milk, and then skewer them. So, you’d be walking along with a hot drink in one hand, turning your head sideways, holding a stick up to your face, trying to bite off a piece of chocolate covered fruit from your skewer while not spilling your drink. Dave and I were both so absorbed in this eating frenzie, we forgot to take pictures of each other looking like crazy kids. Oh, but you should have tasted these. The pears were so insanely juicy. And the strawberries! Oh my, how did they get such sweet strawberries this time of year?
Our very first exposure to the Colmar market on our first night.
This was the entrance to the huge Strasbourg market.
The booths at the markets were so quaint and well done.
By the end of our first night at Colmar, Dave and I decided that this was the place to be on the cold winter nights before Noel. In a magical storybook town, walking amongst the gorgeous lights, drinking mulled wine or hot chocolate, eating homemade tasty treats, and then slipping into a hot bubble bath afterwards to warm up our chilled bodies. The next several days and nights were more of the same. Colmar was a smaller town, so it was more quaint. But Strasboug had a reputation to uphold so they had huge markets and decorated magnificently. This weekend alone, will make this a forever in our minds…a Christmas to remember.
Other than the freezing cold weather, it was actually really sunny and beautiful up in Alsace. The Alsace region has switched hands so many times between the French and the Germans that it has a distinctly Germanic feel to the French towns. The storybook towns boast quaint cobblestone streets lined with German stone timber houses. Each town has a river or two going through it so there are many beautiful bridges decorated with flowers overhanging the sides. On any regular day these towns are magically beautiful, so we were so excited to see them all decked out for Christmas.
And we weren’t disappointed. The towns had been decorated with all of their French and German finery and had a very old world feel to them all. There were lights everywhere. The streets were laced with lights from roof to roof, and there were often even “candle” chandeliers hanging from the strings of lights. All the buildings dripped with pine boughs, red bows, and oversized ornaments. Everywhere we turned it was a true feast for the eyes. Dave laughed often as he’d look at me and I’d be standing there wide-eyed with my mouth hanging open completely taken by another gorgeously decorated house.
A picture of when we first arrived. Even without the lights it's so charming!
One of the decked out houses...
Although the decorations were magnificent, the real draw for us to go to Alsace were the Christmas markets we had heard so much about. We have a friend who lives in Germany and she told us that she always goes up to Strasbourg, Alsace, to shop at the Christmas markets. As the holidays approached, I did some research on the best Christmas markets in the world, and found that Germany actually won as far as having the biggest and oldest Christmas markets in the world. But, Strasbourg has the oldest Christmas market in France. It’s huge and very charming because of the mix of German and French influences. We debated flying to Stutgartt Germany to see the oldest market in the world, and then decided to go to Alsace instead. As we read about the Strasbourg maket, we also saw pictures of the Colmar ones, so we decided to go to both towns.
And in the evenings just felt like it was a Christmas wonderland.
Before we went to Alsace, we did visit our very own Christmas market in Lyon. It is actually very large and very cute, in compared to the markets in the US. But, it wasn’t what we expected. It was very commercial, with lots of “stuff” vendors, just like what you would expect in our part of the world. The Alsacian markets were much closer to what we were hoping to see. The vendors were mostly selling goods that were home-made. There were handknit scarves and hats, hand chisselled wooden boxes and carvings, hand painted pictures and picture frames. There were turned wood toys, adorable marionettes, and more different kinds of soaps, candles, and jewelry than you could imagine. But my favorite things of all, were all the home-cooked products. From liqueurs to gingerbread houses to red candy covered apples. I just couldn’t believe that there was all these fresh breads, fresh cookies, and unbelievable edible delights everywhere I turned. I kept spinning around to look at yet another colorful display of clear wrapped goodies.
Gingerbread hearts....
and good old-fashioned Christmas treats.
And with all that temptation, we couldn’t not eat! We found ourselves constantly picking up another little taste of this or that. On each street corner you’d see a little “train” with someone selling roasted chestnuts and the smell would waft past you as you walked by. Then you’d hear some sweet ladies voice “singing” vin chaud, chocolat chaud! Mulled wine, hot chocolate. We were so cold that we always had a glass of one or the other of these in our hands to keep us warm. And as we strolled around sipping our warm tasty drinks we’d pick up little somethings to complement them such as breaded pretzels,, chocolate dipped churos, gingerbread cookies, or my absolute favorite, chocolate covered fruit kabobs! I’m not kidding! They would cover pieces of pear, strawberry, kiwi, banana, etc with chocolate, dark, white, or milk, and then skewer them. So, you’d be walking along with a hot drink in one hand, turning your head sideways, holding a stick up to your face, trying to bite off a piece of chocolate covered fruit from your skewer while not spilling your drink. Dave and I were both so absorbed in this eating frenzie, we forgot to take pictures of each other looking like crazy kids. Oh, but you should have tasted these. The pears were so insanely juicy. And the strawberries! Oh my, how did they get such sweet strawberries this time of year?
Our very first exposure to the Colmar market on our first night.
This was the entrance to the huge Strasbourg market.
The booths at the markets were so quaint and well done.
By the end of our first night at Colmar, Dave and I decided that this was the place to be on the cold winter nights before Noel. In a magical storybook town, walking amongst the gorgeous lights, drinking mulled wine or hot chocolate, eating homemade tasty treats, and then slipping into a hot bubble bath afterwards to warm up our chilled bodies. The next several days and nights were more of the same. Colmar was a smaller town, so it was more quaint. But Strasboug had a reputation to uphold so they had huge markets and decorated magnificently. This weekend alone, will make this a forever in our minds…a Christmas to remember.
Monday, December 17, 2007
D's Birthday and Fete des Lumieres
The weekend started with a bang. Dave’s 40th birthday was approaching and we were so far from all his family and friends that I had to work hard to figure out how to make it special. Fortunately, it worked out to be easy. First, I invited some friends to a birthday dinner on Dave’s b-day, but found out they couldn’t make it because Jimmy, the male half of the couple I invited, was turning 30 on Dec. 10th and was celebrating on the 11th, which was Dave’s birthday. So, I decided to hold a joint birthday party for the 2 big 10 birthdays on Friday. Entertaining here in France is always an adventure for me, especially when I want to cook Indian food, because the grocery shopping is so challenging. To get the Indian spices, I have to go to this little whole in the wall spice shop that makes you feel like you are walking into a seer’s den. You walk in and it’s crowded with spices and rice and flour and you can barely walk around. The whole place dark and full of the smell and smoke of incense, and the owner is a wrinkled old Indian man who is so hunched over you expect to see him staring into a crystal ball and asking you what you want to know about your future. Their selection of spices is fabulous, but it’s a trip to get there, and I have to admit I am always just a little uncomfortable walking in there to do my shopping.
Then, after getting the spices, I have to go to the boucherie to get fresh meat, and I usually try to go to the morning market to try to get fresh veggies. Anyways, I spent the day traveling from place to place to get everything fresh, and arrived home at 4:30 to start my cooking.
Our guests arrived at 7:00pm, and fortunately loved the dinner. They are French, so I was really concerned that they wouldn’t like the spicy food. The French palette is not used to spicy food, and our friend’s daughter Melody, who is 4, was going to be there too. Well, little Melody kept humming and saying mmmmmmmmmm, and her Mom Cathy was beginning to feel insulted. “She never hums when she eats my cooking!” she exclaimed. And the birthday boys stayed quiet the whole dinner so they could concentrate on their eating. Woohoo!!! Success! You know you did okay when everyone goes quiet so that they can eat. :D
Dave, Jimmy, Melody, Cathy, and Cathy’s delightful Mom, after the boys blew out the candles on their cake.
After that we went for a walk to see the lights of the Fete des Lumieres. Dave was so excited that this holiday was happening on his birthday weekend. Five million people descend upon Lyon each year for this festival, and it really livened things up so Dave felt very festive. He kept going “Hey! Look at that! Monica come here!” and he’d make me stand still so he could use my head as a tripod for his camera so he could catch the lights on (digital) “film.” At one point Cathy started tickling me under my chin every time Dave was trying to take a picture so that I’d move. I made a huge effort to stay still but just couldn’t do it. So, then Dave started using his own head as his tripod. It was the funniest site. I’d turn around to see where he’d gone and he’d be standing on some bollard, grinning like a mad scientist with his camera on his head taking a picture. It kept us all laughing hysterically all evening.
Here was one of the pictures Dave got of the lampshade people. And yes, these lamps were all lit up.
The next morning our friends from England, Helen and Daron arrived. We walked around the Marche Noel (Christmas market) and then headed up to the regular weekend markets on the river. Helen really enjoyed the artwork and I loved all the artistic jewelry. After that we stopped for a cup of coffee and when we were walking out to leave we saw some guys handing out some paper lanterns. Our guys of course had to get some, but us girls were a bit skeptical. But the lantern people insisted we take 4, so we took them, posed for some pictures, and then nearly threw them out. Instead, we thought we’d enjoy them for a little while and decide what to do with them later.
Daron and Dave laughing after I told them to “look at each other lovingly.” They both wanted to be very clear that they don’t do “that sorta thing.”
Every time Dave looks at this picture he says “hey, that guy is looking at my wife’s pretty bouncy lanterns!” Everywhere we went people kept asking us where they could get lanterns of their own.
Do you remember the story about Rita’s turkey for Thanksgiving? The one that she needed to special order and cost $150?! Well, on our way home we walked by the same butcher who provided that turkey, and guess what we saw? A whole rack of Christmas turkeys hanging in front! And let’s just say, they definitely weren’t $150! But look at how they are displayed.
They still have their heads and tail feathers on!!!! I wasn’t sure whether to laugh of groan.
At about 6:00pm we headed for dinner. I had called and visited about 10 restaurants to try to get reservations so we could celebrate Dave’s birthday on Sat. night with Helen and Daron, but nobody was taking reservations that night because of the festival. They all told me to come between 7 and 8pm, and we should be just fine. Well, I figured they were telling everyone that, so I suggested we go at 6pm. It’s an ungodly hour to eat according to the French, so I thought it might be a good time for us. We decided to try the oldest Brasserie in Lyon, Brasserie Georges, which has 120 tables, great staff, traditional food, and a very old world feel to it. It’s actually a brew pub and many of it’s artwork, last updated in the 1920’s, are dedicated to the reconciliation between the gods of wine and beer.
We got seated immediately and the boys ordered very manly maas’s of beer and platters of meat and sauerkraut (choucroute).
Then Dave’s birthday cake, a huge Baked Alaska complete with sparklers on top, made it’s way across the crowded restaurant.
And our waiters, to Dave’s surprise and glee, sang happy birthday in English! I love those guys!
Saturday night was supposed to be the big night of the Fete des Lumieres, so after a quick stop at home, we headed out into the crowds to see as many lights as we could. We decided to light up our lanterns and take them with us, which turned out to be the best idea ever. The crowds were so thick, you could barely move and we’d all get sorta pushed around and get separated. So, we all just kept looking for the lanterns and that’s how we managed to stay together. Thank goodness we didn’t throw those things away.
Daron, Helen, and me sporting our festival lanterns. Dave asked “Monica, would you like a picture of all those hanging Lyonaise balls?” I giggled, “Yes Sir! I’m very much enjoying admiring them!” ;) So we decided to pose with those beautiful hanging Lyonaise balls.
The lights that night were amazing. I’d never seen anything like them. Lyon certainly knows how to do it all up. But then, of course they do. They’ve been doing this every December 8th for over a century! As we walked home absolutely exhausted, the last display we saw was my favorite one.
It was just so odd with the sorta space ship looking thing across the river, and then that flower ball thing and the fountain, and then these eerie flowers being planted by these slow moving ghost-like figures. I’m not sure why I liked this one so much, but it just had so much going on. The contrast between everything just seemed to stimulate my imagination. And I wasn’t the only one. Daron asked what the heck that flower ball was. We couldn’t answer so he pondered out loud “it’s kind of like the opposite of a Death Star. Hmmmmmmm……… I know!!! It’s a Love Star!” Yes! Yes!! We all agreed. It’s a Love Star.
Here’s the same scene the next morning as we walked by it. Now we can’t ever look at that flower ball without thinking “it’s a Love Star!” What a happy thought.
Helen and Daron left that afternoon, but it had been a wonderful weekend. I’m so very glad we were in Lyon to celebrate that weekend. And now….we can focus on Christmas! Next stop: Les Marches Noels du France!
Then, after getting the spices, I have to go to the boucherie to get fresh meat, and I usually try to go to the morning market to try to get fresh veggies. Anyways, I spent the day traveling from place to place to get everything fresh, and arrived home at 4:30 to start my cooking.
Our guests arrived at 7:00pm, and fortunately loved the dinner. They are French, so I was really concerned that they wouldn’t like the spicy food. The French palette is not used to spicy food, and our friend’s daughter Melody, who is 4, was going to be there too. Well, little Melody kept humming and saying mmmmmmmmmm, and her Mom Cathy was beginning to feel insulted. “She never hums when she eats my cooking!” she exclaimed. And the birthday boys stayed quiet the whole dinner so they could concentrate on their eating. Woohoo!!! Success! You know you did okay when everyone goes quiet so that they can eat. :D
Dave, Jimmy, Melody, Cathy, and Cathy’s delightful Mom, after the boys blew out the candles on their cake.
After that we went for a walk to see the lights of the Fete des Lumieres. Dave was so excited that this holiday was happening on his birthday weekend. Five million people descend upon Lyon each year for this festival, and it really livened things up so Dave felt very festive. He kept going “Hey! Look at that! Monica come here!” and he’d make me stand still so he could use my head as a tripod for his camera so he could catch the lights on (digital) “film.” At one point Cathy started tickling me under my chin every time Dave was trying to take a picture so that I’d move. I made a huge effort to stay still but just couldn’t do it. So, then Dave started using his own head as his tripod. It was the funniest site. I’d turn around to see where he’d gone and he’d be standing on some bollard, grinning like a mad scientist with his camera on his head taking a picture. It kept us all laughing hysterically all evening.
Here was one of the pictures Dave got of the lampshade people. And yes, these lamps were all lit up.
The next morning our friends from England, Helen and Daron arrived. We walked around the Marche Noel (Christmas market) and then headed up to the regular weekend markets on the river. Helen really enjoyed the artwork and I loved all the artistic jewelry. After that we stopped for a cup of coffee and when we were walking out to leave we saw some guys handing out some paper lanterns. Our guys of course had to get some, but us girls were a bit skeptical. But the lantern people insisted we take 4, so we took them, posed for some pictures, and then nearly threw them out. Instead, we thought we’d enjoy them for a little while and decide what to do with them later.
Daron and Dave laughing after I told them to “look at each other lovingly.” They both wanted to be very clear that they don’t do “that sorta thing.”
Every time Dave looks at this picture he says “hey, that guy is looking at my wife’s pretty bouncy lanterns!” Everywhere we went people kept asking us where they could get lanterns of their own.
Do you remember the story about Rita’s turkey for Thanksgiving? The one that she needed to special order and cost $150?! Well, on our way home we walked by the same butcher who provided that turkey, and guess what we saw? A whole rack of Christmas turkeys hanging in front! And let’s just say, they definitely weren’t $150! But look at how they are displayed.
They still have their heads and tail feathers on!!!! I wasn’t sure whether to laugh of groan.
At about 6:00pm we headed for dinner. I had called and visited about 10 restaurants to try to get reservations so we could celebrate Dave’s birthday on Sat. night with Helen and Daron, but nobody was taking reservations that night because of the festival. They all told me to come between 7 and 8pm, and we should be just fine. Well, I figured they were telling everyone that, so I suggested we go at 6pm. It’s an ungodly hour to eat according to the French, so I thought it might be a good time for us. We decided to try the oldest Brasserie in Lyon, Brasserie Georges, which has 120 tables, great staff, traditional food, and a very old world feel to it. It’s actually a brew pub and many of it’s artwork, last updated in the 1920’s, are dedicated to the reconciliation between the gods of wine and beer.
We got seated immediately and the boys ordered very manly maas’s of beer and platters of meat and sauerkraut (choucroute).
Then Dave’s birthday cake, a huge Baked Alaska complete with sparklers on top, made it’s way across the crowded restaurant.
And our waiters, to Dave’s surprise and glee, sang happy birthday in English! I love those guys!
Saturday night was supposed to be the big night of the Fete des Lumieres, so after a quick stop at home, we headed out into the crowds to see as many lights as we could. We decided to light up our lanterns and take them with us, which turned out to be the best idea ever. The crowds were so thick, you could barely move and we’d all get sorta pushed around and get separated. So, we all just kept looking for the lanterns and that’s how we managed to stay together. Thank goodness we didn’t throw those things away.
Daron, Helen, and me sporting our festival lanterns. Dave asked “Monica, would you like a picture of all those hanging Lyonaise balls?” I giggled, “Yes Sir! I’m very much enjoying admiring them!” ;) So we decided to pose with those beautiful hanging Lyonaise balls.The lights that night were amazing. I’d never seen anything like them. Lyon certainly knows how to do it all up. But then, of course they do. They’ve been doing this every December 8th for over a century! As we walked home absolutely exhausted, the last display we saw was my favorite one.
It was just so odd with the sorta space ship looking thing across the river, and then that flower ball thing and the fountain, and then these eerie flowers being planted by these slow moving ghost-like figures. I’m not sure why I liked this one so much, but it just had so much going on. The contrast between everything just seemed to stimulate my imagination. And I wasn’t the only one. Daron asked what the heck that flower ball was. We couldn’t answer so he pondered out loud “it’s kind of like the opposite of a Death Star. Hmmmmmmm……… I know!!! It’s a Love Star!” Yes! Yes!! We all agreed. It’s a Love Star.
Here’s the same scene the next morning as we walked by it. Now we can’t ever look at that flower ball without thinking “it’s a Love Star!” What a happy thought.
Helen and Daron left that afternoon, but it had been a wonderful weekend. I’m so very glad we were in Lyon to celebrate that weekend. And now….we can focus on Christmas! Next stop: Les Marches Noels du France!
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Party Cancelled
Hello there Everyone!
Thanks so much to those of you that joined in the virtual e-mail box party for Daves birthday. He says he couldn't have asked for a better 40th. He felt very loved. Unfortunately, we've had some complications regarding the 40th birthday party that I had planned on Feb. 1st, so I think I will need to just cancel that party. So, take that event off your calendar. I'm posting this here because I had kinda mentioned the party in passing to a lot of our friends and family, but hadn't yet mentioned it to everyone, so I'm not sure who to e-mail the cancellation notice to. So, if I post it here I am hoping everyone will see it.
Thanks so much to those of you that joined in the virtual e-mail box party for Daves birthday. He says he couldn't have asked for a better 40th. He felt very loved. Unfortunately, we've had some complications regarding the 40th birthday party that I had planned on Feb. 1st, so I think I will need to just cancel that party. So, take that event off your calendar. I'm posting this here because I had kinda mentioned the party in passing to a lot of our friends and family, but hadn't yet mentioned it to everyone, so I'm not sure who to e-mail the cancellation notice to. So, if I post it here I am hoping everyone will see it.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Birthday Weekend in Lights
You know it's not often that a whole city puts on a light show for your birthday, but it is extra special when your friends from England come over for the weekend too. Monica had already been going crazy trying to find a place to reserve for my birthday dinner, but nobody was taking reservations, instead they recommended we come by to eat at the (ungodly early to the French) hour of 6 or 7pm. This was just a hint at the crowds that were to come.
We picked up a couple of free lanterns at lunchtime and nearly tossed them away, but what the heck... Let's do things like the Lyonnais. They've been giving these out all over Lyon. All I can say is THANK GOD we took them. The candles burned all night, and the sleeve kept them from going out, but best of all we could find each other in the crowds later that night.
By 5pm Saturday it was already dark and the crowds were already the largest we'd ever seen - even including the Rugby World Cup games in Lyon. We decided to eat at the La Brasserie Georges as a safe bet. This place is absolutely huge - 120 bustling tables serving up hearty Alpine fare since 1836. They have a couple Guinness World records too. Already it had a line out the door, but not too long. Here you can see us and our very French waiter with very European glasses (dorky red frames).
For dessert we had the foresight to order their famous "Norwegian Omelet" which you must order at the beginning of your meal. What is that you ask? I'll bet you think it's something with egg and lox huh? No, it's called Baked Alaska in the United States. And it arrived with a sparkler and singing waiters who attempted "Happy Birthday" in English! Monica pulled off another one. Nobody else got that treatment. As we left the restaurant in high spirits we saw the current line to get in. It was huge! We estimated 200 people at least.
Well if you weren't that organized, every street corner had some kind of hot food or drink stand. Here's a guy cooking tartiflette (potatoes, bacon, and cheese) and yes, the pan is that big.
As we headed back towards the city center the crowds got thicker. Louis XIV in Bellecour was now all lit up and sporting some neon inside his new snow globe. (You can see the Ferris wheel as a reflection). Bellecour is practically soviet in scale, so it did a good job at handling the masses, but we as headed north towards the Newton's Cradle (that's what Daron told me the desk toy is called), we saw just how many people had decided to visit this weekend.
The crowd was really thick! And, guess what? We were the ONLY people with candle lanterns. Turns out they were really well engineered too. Super light, and easy to hold over our heads, soon everyone was asking us where we got ours - even offering to buy them off us. No way! These were worth their weight in gold. Actually a lot more than their weight.
From here on we progressed slowly but surely north to the Newton's Cradle. I could say it worked exactly like the small version... and from the pictures you couldn't tell, but actually it was more like an extremely slow motion version of the desk toy. Except here the globes changed colors and sent pulses of light back and forth.
Overall, the festival looked like a chance for the art community to do some fun projects with city money. Some were a success - like the synchronized light cubes along the Rhône. The giant cubes are actually industrial chemical containers and the money went into the cabling and computerized colored lights. You could walk among them and at night it attracted fire dancers and fire breathers. But another one looked they blew their budget on giant wood projection towers and sound system... but hardly any light? What happened there?
You know, you can't miss with fog, lasers, moody sound, and reflecting glass. Place Terreaux had a huge crowd just camped out in the large plaza.
Returning to Bellecour our last visit was the illuminated flower field. For days people in white suits with white skull caps very slowly (for artistic effect I suppose) planted glowing bottle-flowers on long stems in the lawn by the Saône and sometimes plucked a dead one. By Saturday, the field was really getting full.
We were exhausted, but at least we live in Bellecour so we could just walk in the door and collapse. The weather had held up most of the night, but it started to drizzle at the end making our paper lanterns look as tired as we were. But we all had had a delightful time.
We picked up a couple of free lanterns at lunchtime and nearly tossed them away, but what the heck... Let's do things like the Lyonnais. They've been giving these out all over Lyon. All I can say is THANK GOD we took them. The candles burned all night, and the sleeve kept them from going out, but best of all we could find each other in the crowds later that night.
By 5pm Saturday it was already dark and the crowds were already the largest we'd ever seen - even including the Rugby World Cup games in Lyon. We decided to eat at the La Brasserie Georges as a safe bet. This place is absolutely huge - 120 bustling tables serving up hearty Alpine fare since 1836. They have a couple Guinness World records too. Already it had a line out the door, but not too long. Here you can see us and our very French waiter with very European glasses (dorky red frames).
For dessert we had the foresight to order their famous "Norwegian Omelet" which you must order at the beginning of your meal. What is that you ask? I'll bet you think it's something with egg and lox huh? No, it's called Baked Alaska in the United States. And it arrived with a sparkler and singing waiters who attempted "Happy Birthday" in English! Monica pulled off another one. Nobody else got that treatment. As we left the restaurant in high spirits we saw the current line to get in. It was huge! We estimated 200 people at least.
Well if you weren't that organized, every street corner had some kind of hot food or drink stand. Here's a guy cooking tartiflette (potatoes, bacon, and cheese) and yes, the pan is that big.
As we headed back towards the city center the crowds got thicker. Louis XIV in Bellecour was now all lit up and sporting some neon inside his new snow globe. (You can see the Ferris wheel as a reflection). Bellecour is practically soviet in scale, so it did a good job at handling the masses, but we as headed north towards the Newton's Cradle (that's what Daron told me the desk toy is called), we saw just how many people had decided to visit this weekend.
The crowd was really thick! And, guess what? We were the ONLY people with candle lanterns. Turns out they were really well engineered too. Super light, and easy to hold over our heads, soon everyone was asking us where we got ours - even offering to buy them off us. No way! These were worth their weight in gold. Actually a lot more than their weight.
From here on we progressed slowly but surely north to the Newton's Cradle. I could say it worked exactly like the small version... and from the pictures you couldn't tell, but actually it was more like an extremely slow motion version of the desk toy. Except here the globes changed colors and sent pulses of light back and forth.
Overall, the festival looked like a chance for the art community to do some fun projects with city money. Some were a success - like the synchronized light cubes along the Rhône. The giant cubes are actually industrial chemical containers and the money went into the cabling and computerized colored lights. You could walk among them and at night it attracted fire dancers and fire breathers. But another one looked they blew their budget on giant wood projection towers and sound system... but hardly any light? What happened there?
You know, you can't miss with fog, lasers, moody sound, and reflecting glass. Place Terreaux had a huge crowd just camped out in the large plaza.
Returning to Bellecour our last visit was the illuminated flower field. For days people in white suits with white skull caps very slowly (for artistic effect I suppose) planted glowing bottle-flowers on long stems in the lawn by the Saône and sometimes plucked a dead one. By Saturday, the field was really getting full.
We were exhausted, but at least we live in Bellecour so we could just walk in the door and collapse. The weather had held up most of the night, but it started to drizzle at the end making our paper lanterns look as tired as we were. But we all had had a delightful time.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Lyon gets ready for Festival of Lights
One of things we most wanted to see once we heard about it was the Lyon Festival of Lights (Fête des Lumières). The way it was explained to me, every December 8, all the people of Lyon light candles and set them in their windows or outside their doors and it just lights up all of Lyon. Then everyone walks around and looks at all the lights! Wait a second, you light candles all over your house... then leave and walk around? I guess the firemen must be extra busy! Maybe this sounds like a good idea after all that Beaujolais Nouveau...
Well last year it was just awful weather, plus I also read there has been a metro strike 2 years in a row on December 8. A perfect time to remind people why automated trains are taking over. This year looks like it will be a winner though - plus we're right in the center of Lyon so we don't need any transit. Ha ha!
The city decorations are immense and have been going on for a while now. It's just amazing how many details there are. Even the lights in the metros have been changed to purple. The streetlights are red or blue. Every street has strings of lights hung across it. Trees are filled with blinking decorations. And then, there are the giant civic installations...
OK, I'm going to have to post a follow-up to this with some pictures because you wouldn't believe me. The giant statue of Louis XIV in Bellecour - is being turned into a humongous snow globe. In Cordelier, there now hang 5 giant lit globes that look suspiciously like one of those "perpetual motion" desk toys. In fact, I can see the hinges where the outer globe's beams attach to the super structure.
And in Bellecour, something we didn't know could disappear (but did) has returned. The gi-normous Ferris wheel. We saw this we when first arrived last January and it was so big we just assumed it must be permanent. Then one day in April it vanished! We hadn't even ridden on it! Now it is back and just as huge and permanent looking as before.
Anyway, you can just imagine how exciting it is to see all the preparation going on. Monica is constantly bouncing up and down.
Oh, and Eloïse insisted I snap this picture. I think this will have to become my new place or worship. The temple of cheese!
We'll talk to you later!
Well last year it was just awful weather, plus I also read there has been a metro strike 2 years in a row on December 8. A perfect time to remind people why automated trains are taking over. This year looks like it will be a winner though - plus we're right in the center of Lyon so we don't need any transit. Ha ha!
The city decorations are immense and have been going on for a while now. It's just amazing how many details there are. Even the lights in the metros have been changed to purple. The streetlights are red or blue. Every street has strings of lights hung across it. Trees are filled with blinking decorations. And then, there are the giant civic installations...
OK, I'm going to have to post a follow-up to this with some pictures because you wouldn't believe me. The giant statue of Louis XIV in Bellecour - is being turned into a humongous snow globe. In Cordelier, there now hang 5 giant lit globes that look suspiciously like one of those "perpetual motion" desk toys. In fact, I can see the hinges where the outer globe's beams attach to the super structure.
And in Bellecour, something we didn't know could disappear (but did) has returned. The gi-normous Ferris wheel. We saw this we when first arrived last January and it was so big we just assumed it must be permanent. Then one day in April it vanished! We hadn't even ridden on it! Now it is back and just as huge and permanent looking as before.
Anyway, you can just imagine how exciting it is to see all the preparation going on. Monica is constantly bouncing up and down.
Oh, and Eloïse insisted I snap this picture. I think this will have to become my new place or worship. The temple of cheese!
We'll talk to you later!
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Say it isn't true!
A French friend of mine was in town today and so we had a "shop till you drop" kinda day. We walked everywhere and were having a great day. And then, as we turned a corner in front of the opera house, it happened. I spotted a Starbucks!!! "OMG, this can't be happening," I gasped. "Lyon had stayed so pure for so long!"
Every city in the world that Dave and I have been to in the last 3 years has had a Starbuck in it. We were distressed about that. They were even in places that are known for making some of the best coffee in the world, like Italy, Switzerland, and big cities in France. But in Lyon, where the little cafes thrive, and the coffee is so good, we hadn't seen one. We rejoiced in that. We were so proud of the Lyonaisse for resisting. But now....Oh my....now! It's like they gave in.
The Starbucks is right outside a very big metro stop in one of the busiest parts of town. My friend, when she saw my dismay started to theorize on the capitulation of the Lyonaisse. "Well," she said, "in most French cafes you can't get coffee to go. They only allow you to drink it there. At Starbucks you can jump off the metro, get your coffee, and head to work."
"But it's a flippin' Saturday!" I nearly screamed. "They have plenty of time to get yummy French coffee! Why is there a cue around the block to get bad American coffee?! "
She rubbed my back soothingly as if to calm an upset child. We walked away from the offensive street corner quickly and she remained quiet as I took deep breaths and regained my composure. Forget Pinkie and the Brain. Starbucks is taking over the world!
Every city in the world that Dave and I have been to in the last 3 years has had a Starbuck in it. We were distressed about that. They were even in places that are known for making some of the best coffee in the world, like Italy, Switzerland, and big cities in France. But in Lyon, where the little cafes thrive, and the coffee is so good, we hadn't seen one. We rejoiced in that. We were so proud of the Lyonaisse for resisting. But now....Oh my....now! It's like they gave in.
The Starbucks is right outside a very big metro stop in one of the busiest parts of town. My friend, when she saw my dismay started to theorize on the capitulation of the Lyonaisse. "Well," she said, "in most French cafes you can't get coffee to go. They only allow you to drink it there. At Starbucks you can jump off the metro, get your coffee, and head to work."
"But it's a flippin' Saturday!" I nearly screamed. "They have plenty of time to get yummy French coffee! Why is there a cue around the block to get bad American coffee?! "
She rubbed my back soothingly as if to calm an upset child. We walked away from the offensive street corner quickly and she remained quiet as I took deep breaths and regained my composure. Forget Pinkie and the Brain. Starbucks is taking over the world!
Friday, November 30, 2007
Benelux or Bust
For my 2 week break we decided to rent a car and take a tour of Benelux. What? I never heard of this country... This is what Europeans call the three countries of Belgium, Netherlands, and Luxembourg - since these guys had formed their own trade zone before even the EU formed. I hadn't realized how culturally similar these guys were. We started with Luxembourg - the city - not the country, no wait, they appear to be the same thing from the road signs. In fact, what little directions we were able to get had to be thrown out the window as the road into Luxembourg was closed and we had to go into Belgium to get there. Once again the European "direction" system leaves us lost and driving in ever shrinking circles towards the Royale Hotel and Liberation Square. Maybe we should have given up and parked, because soon we are bumping along cobbles, dodging tables and chairs, as pedestrians swirl around us reading menus at the outdoor cafes, looking in our car windows like we're some kind of goldfish. Do we panic? Well, a little. But there's a car parked over there, we're not in a total pedestrian area. Still, I feel like I've accidentally driven into a parade route. Finally, forward progress stops, I get out and ask waiters if they know where the Royale Hotel is in Liberation square. Nobody know, but I know we're close because this IS Liberation Square, dang it! Aha! "Royale Café." They'll know. And they do! Why of course it's just upstairs from the restaurant. How were we supposed to find that? Now we can slink down an alley to a parking garage and return on foot like ordinary people.
I think people visit Luxembourg (city?/nation?) just to add one more country to their travel resume. It is a beautiful, albeit small capital where we could sit at a table under the trees in Liberation Square and listen to the Luxembourg army brass band play lively tunes. Perhaps this is the whole Luxembourg army? We don't know. Luxembourg is pretty small. Maybe the best thing for a country this small is to have their army just consist of a welcoming brass band. "Thank you for invading! Try our beer!"
We'd feel a little guilty if all we saw of Luxembourg was the cute capital, so we drove the entire length and breadth of the country. It took half an hour. No, just kidding. There was more than that and we did visit a very nicely restored castle that had belonged to William of Orange and had been a seat of power when European countries and rulers were changing hands faster than a game of 3 card monty. In France one of the cute things is the signs when you enter a city and the sign when you exit a city. The exit sign has a big red slash through it and I can't help but think "No Rheims" (or whatever city) when I see one of them. In Luxembourg every one of these signs is a double sign - you are leaving one place AND entering the next. You are never nowhere in Luxembourg.
Our next stop was Amsterdam and Rotterdam and all the "dam" cities in between as there doesn't appear to be a choice of freeways in Holland. But one nice thing about these Benelux roads is that gas is cheaper and there are no tollbooths! Whoo Hoo!
Amsterdam is known for its red-light district, its legalized recreational substances, and its sublime museums (which is what we came for of course). Unfortunately, the flagship Reichmuseum is undergoing major renovations and only a fraction of the collection is on display, so we had to spend more time visiting the other, ahem, sights.
One thing that amused me was how the drug culture changed with legalization. Instead of some guy whispering "this is good stuff, man." You have actual information. In fact, information overload! On a display of psychedelic mushrooms, each species is accompanied by colorful charts and graphs sure to satisfy any stat-starved techno-weenie. Like at a wine shop, the clerks recommend personal favorites, seasonal specials, and even give tips on food pairing!
What if we tried, you know, our favorite activity while under the influence of some of Amsterdam's famous, um, you know... tulips? Well, we are not ones to shrink from new experiences! After spending some time at one of the "coffee shops", we came out, crossed the street, and then right in front of everyone we did it... We ordered the empanadas. They were absolutely heavenly! We hadn't tasted their like since José's in Palo Alto closed. But, are these really that good, or could it be the, ah, tulip influence? Like a lot of things in Amsterdam, it can be hard to get an accurate account of what happened afterwards.
We headed back south to Belgium. I had once dated a Belgian girl who spoke English, French, Dutch, and her native Flemish. Wow, I was impressed. I didn't know Flemish is to Dutch, in the words of our hostess in Antwerp, "like UK English is to US English." What? That similar? So that ex-girlfriend was inflating her resume! Heck, I should have told her I can speak American, British, Australian, and a smattering of Canadian eh?
Personally, I think the Belgians are quietly trying to take over the world one specialty at a time. They claim to have invented the french fry - doubtful, but they are so passionate about fries that everyone just said "Fine. You are so small and cute. Have the fry title, nobody cares!!" Well now that they've convinced everyone to let them have the french fry title, they've moved on... They now claim they have the best chocolate, waffles, craft beer, mussels, cell phone coverage, etc. etc. I read the #1 vendor of carpet in the world is not Iran, but... Belgium! I think their plan is working! The southern French-speaking Belgians are even called Walloons. How serious a threat can they be? I mean, if you shouted "Look out! It's a Walloon invasion!" people would laugh and look for something funny like a clown car. Well, laugh now monkey-boy, but we'll all soon be servants of the Walloons...
Our final stop was Strasbourg which is not in Benelux, but we wanted to visit while we were in the area. It's in France, but it's really different from the rest of France because it has frequently changed hands between France and Germany. It's kind of a best-of-both-cultures place. I can see why our French and German friends said it was worth a visit, but of course they wouldn't want to live there because the culture is so strange. Well to us both French and German cultures are foreign so this didn't bother us at all. We thoroughly enjoyed the blend. Sausage crepe? Why not? Tastes great with mustard. Mmmmm.
I think people visit Luxembourg (city?/nation?) just to add one more country to their travel resume. It is a beautiful, albeit small capital where we could sit at a table under the trees in Liberation Square and listen to the Luxembourg army brass band play lively tunes. Perhaps this is the whole Luxembourg army? We don't know. Luxembourg is pretty small. Maybe the best thing for a country this small is to have their army just consist of a welcoming brass band. "Thank you for invading! Try our beer!"
We'd feel a little guilty if all we saw of Luxembourg was the cute capital, so we drove the entire length and breadth of the country. It took half an hour. No, just kidding. There was more than that and we did visit a very nicely restored castle that had belonged to William of Orange and had been a seat of power when European countries and rulers were changing hands faster than a game of 3 card monty. In France one of the cute things is the signs when you enter a city and the sign when you exit a city. The exit sign has a big red slash through it and I can't help but think "No Rheims" (or whatever city) when I see one of them. In Luxembourg every one of these signs is a double sign - you are leaving one place AND entering the next. You are never nowhere in Luxembourg.
Our next stop was Amsterdam and Rotterdam and all the "dam" cities in between as there doesn't appear to be a choice of freeways in Holland. But one nice thing about these Benelux roads is that gas is cheaper and there are no tollbooths! Whoo Hoo!
Amsterdam is known for its red-light district, its legalized recreational substances, and its sublime museums (which is what we came for of course). Unfortunately, the flagship Reichmuseum is undergoing major renovations and only a fraction of the collection is on display, so we had to spend more time visiting the other, ahem, sights.
One thing that amused me was how the drug culture changed with legalization. Instead of some guy whispering "this is good stuff, man." You have actual information. In fact, information overload! On a display of psychedelic mushrooms, each species is accompanied by colorful charts and graphs sure to satisfy any stat-starved techno-weenie. Like at a wine shop, the clerks recommend personal favorites, seasonal specials, and even give tips on food pairing!
What if we tried, you know, our favorite activity while under the influence of some of Amsterdam's famous, um, you know... tulips? Well, we are not ones to shrink from new experiences! After spending some time at one of the "coffee shops", we came out, crossed the street, and then right in front of everyone we did it... We ordered the empanadas. They were absolutely heavenly! We hadn't tasted their like since José's in Palo Alto closed. But, are these really that good, or could it be the, ah, tulip influence? Like a lot of things in Amsterdam, it can be hard to get an accurate account of what happened afterwards.
We headed back south to Belgium. I had once dated a Belgian girl who spoke English, French, Dutch, and her native Flemish. Wow, I was impressed. I didn't know Flemish is to Dutch, in the words of our hostess in Antwerp, "like UK English is to US English." What? That similar? So that ex-girlfriend was inflating her resume! Heck, I should have told her I can speak American, British, Australian, and a smattering of Canadian eh?
Personally, I think the Belgians are quietly trying to take over the world one specialty at a time. They claim to have invented the french fry - doubtful, but they are so passionate about fries that everyone just said "Fine. You are so small and cute. Have the fry title, nobody cares!!" Well now that they've convinced everyone to let them have the french fry title, they've moved on... They now claim they have the best chocolate, waffles, craft beer, mussels, cell phone coverage, etc. etc. I read the #1 vendor of carpet in the world is not Iran, but... Belgium! I think their plan is working! The southern French-speaking Belgians are even called Walloons. How serious a threat can they be? I mean, if you shouted "Look out! It's a Walloon invasion!" people would laugh and look for something funny like a clown car. Well, laugh now monkey-boy, but we'll all soon be servants of the Walloons...
Our final stop was Strasbourg which is not in Benelux, but we wanted to visit while we were in the area. It's in France, but it's really different from the rest of France because it has frequently changed hands between France and Germany. It's kind of a best-of-both-cultures place. I can see why our French and German friends said it was worth a visit, but of course they wouldn't want to live there because the culture is so strange. Well to us both French and German cultures are foreign so this didn't bother us at all. We thoroughly enjoyed the blend. Sausage crepe? Why not? Tastes great with mustard. Mmmmm.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Let's give Thanks... for friends... for beaujolais...
In 1999 Dave and I were backpacking around the world and in November we were in Phuket Thailand. The fact that Thanksgiving was coming hadn't even occurred to me, because it was so sunny and gorgeous and I was completely focussed on getting my dive certification. But one day, about 4 days before Thanksgiving, we went into a little restaurant we frequented that was owned by an American Expat. He was in the heat of preparing his traditional Thanksgiving dinner for the restaurant, so he told us all about it. He told us about how he had to order the turkey to be imported, what vegetables he was planning on using instead of greenbeans, and then he brought out his "pumpkin." They don't have pumpkin in Thailand, so he had experimented with several kinds of squash and found one that tastes "just like pumpkin" when made into a pie. He wanted us to join him for Thanksgiving dinner, but my heart sank as we told him we had a flight to Bangkok the next day, and wouldn't be in town. As we left the restaurant I told Dave I really wished he hadn't told us all that. Now I'm going to be craving pumpkin pie until we get back home. Aargh!
Thanksgiving came and went in Bangkok and our search for a pumpkin pie to satiate my craving was unsuccessfull. We were next in Bali and each day when I went to a balinese meditation class I had signed up for, Dave went out on a hunt to find good eats, and in particular pumpkin pie. After 3 days, he greeted me after class looking like he was going to jump out of his skin. "I found pumpkin pie!!" he exclaimed. "Come on! THey warmed a piece up and are holding it for you!"
We rushed over there, and I had a bite. It was really lovely, but it wasn't the flavors I was craving. So, although I enjoyed it, and deeply appreciated Dave's efforts, the craving lingered until we returned in March of 2000 and I could make a homebaked pumpkin pie.
It surprised me then that the only thing I really missed about Thanksgiving was the pumpkin pie. It's a family holiday, right? Shouldn't I have missed family? Well yes, and I did. But we had just left home, so I wasn't feeling the sadness of being away from the people I loved on Thanksgiving. I talked to everyone that day, but didn't ache for home.
Because of that experience, I had expectations of how I would react to being away from home this Thanksgiving. The thing is that this time, I've been away from home for so long, all I could think about was being home in the comfort of a warm home with Dave and my families. I even considered a quick trip home so I could see everyone. But I refrained and we decided to spend this Thanksgiving with an American girlfriend of mine here in Lyon. She loves to cook and was dieing to make a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, and Dave and I love to eat and would love to share a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, so we thought this might be a really good match.
Early on Thanksgiving morning, Rita and I started our shopping and bought everything we needed. It was absolutely amazing the difference between shopping here on Thanksgiving and shopping at home. At home, if you have any sense at all, you don't end up at a grocery store on T-day. And if you do go, it has to be before 2pm, and be prepared to deal with hordes of crazy people frantic because they forgot something they desperately needed. Lines are out the door, people are screaming, pleading and barking. It just ain't pretty. But here, we had a liesurely morning meandering through the market, deciding on the menu as we went, and sampling all the products on special that day. What a great way to start a holiday. Then we settled down for a nice lunch and coffee. In the afternoon I had a dance class, so we decided she would pick up the turkey she had special ordered from a local boucherie and I would be back at her house at about 5pm.
When I got back to her place she told me that her boyfriend wasn't going to be able to make it until about 9 because of the darn train strike that was going on in France. So, we openned a bottle of wine and settled into an evening of liesurely cooking. I peeled and blended and shelled, while Rita, the expert cook that she is, calmly put together an amazing meal. She made a gorgous Turkey (more to follow!), mashed potatoes, yams, and greenbeans. Yummy!
Dave arrived at 7:15pm and we sat down to our only Frenchized portion of our Thanksgiving dinner, pate, 3 delicious cheeses, toasts, and some Beaujolais. Beaujolais? Here's Dave to tell you more about that....
Thanksgiving arrived in Lyon and through the wonders of pervasive American culture, all our friends and co-workers knew about Thanksgiving. They weren't going to do anything special themselves, they just wanted to know if we were going to be OK, because they understood this was an important family holiday.
Anyway, everyone here was more wrapped up in the Beaujolais Nouveau. Oh yeah... We had heard about this, but maybe something got lost in translation? This is when the first of the Beaujolais wine from the year hits the market. So, this is like super young red wine? Wouldn't the wine be better if it aged a bit? Well, apparently, we didn't misunderstand. Even the French admit it is silly, but they have races to get the wine to Paris or Japan, plus public spectacles and parties. Since we're right in the Beaujolais area, it's not so much a race as an excuse to have big parties and drink lots of wine. Signs in all the restaurants remind us that the beaujolais "has arrived!"
So, it was amid this wine quaffing backdrop that we humble Americans put together our plans for Thanksgiving. Personally I love Thanksgiving, if only because it has stubbornly resisted commercialization and (somewhat) acts as a bulwark against the monster marketing machine known as Christmas. Our British friends tell us "you guys are lucky you have Thanksgiving. We've been forced to listen to Christmas music in the malls since October!" Well, even if Thanksgiving is reduced to just a green flag for the Great Christmas Shopping Spree - at least WE were going to do something to celebrate.
The American club did have something planned for Thanksgiving, but like any organization that is entirely volunteers, the whole thing was mismanaged and we were told the event was full. So, instead we joined with our American friend Rita and her French boyfriend Olivier for a quiet Thanksgiving evening. Rita loves to cook and nothing was going to stop her from making turkey, stuffing, potatoes, and yams. And we could drink some of this Beaujolais Nouveau stuff at the same time! Monica and Rita picked up a bunch of bottles. "You can only get it at this time of year, so we seized our opportunity!"
The rest of their shopping went normally, except for the turkey. Rita tried to explain to Olivier just how plentiful turkey is in the US at Thanksgiving - that they even give them away free at the grocery stores when you spend a certain amount. Here turkey just isn't very popular, and unless you want pre-packaged sliced turkey you have to wait for Christmas or order it. So, Rita ordered a 16 pound bird from her butcher. She knew it was going to be expensive. Very expensive. She ordered it the day before Thanksgiving so it was also a rush delivery... Uh oh. Rita? How much did that 16-lb bird cost? Well, it was enough that she almost considered not having turkey for Thanksgiving. She sucked in her breath when she found out what it was going to cost. Ninety-nine euro ($150). Oh my god! Maybe we should just fill up on caviar and savor the turkey bit by bit.
Olivier got delayed by the train strike, so the three of us had cheese and pâté on toasts and opened up the Beaujolais Nouveau while we waited. Hey, this stuff isn't bad, it's actually quite quaffable. I read that it is sort of the wine equivalent of eating cookie dough. And, since it is made so quickly, it doesn't age well. Uh oh. I guess we'd better open more bottles! After a bottle or two, it's really quite delicious!
I think Monica will tell you about the delicious food we had - I'm sure you had plenty of good traditional favorites too - but it's all a drunken blur in my mind. No! I'm just kidding! We didn't drink THAT much. It was really a nice Thanksgiving and the two celebrations together made for a pleasant combination. I hope you had a great Thanksgiving too!
A final note on America... We were walking down the street when Monica exclaimed that there was a painting with the label "America" and it was a woman with naked breasts sticking straight out! Well, we are the "Land of the Free." Oh, and there was a man grabbing them! "Ah, That would be Home of the Brave!"
Thanksgiving came and went in Bangkok and our search for a pumpkin pie to satiate my craving was unsuccessfull. We were next in Bali and each day when I went to a balinese meditation class I had signed up for, Dave went out on a hunt to find good eats, and in particular pumpkin pie. After 3 days, he greeted me after class looking like he was going to jump out of his skin. "I found pumpkin pie!!" he exclaimed. "Come on! THey warmed a piece up and are holding it for you!"
We rushed over there, and I had a bite. It was really lovely, but it wasn't the flavors I was craving. So, although I enjoyed it, and deeply appreciated Dave's efforts, the craving lingered until we returned in March of 2000 and I could make a homebaked pumpkin pie.
It surprised me then that the only thing I really missed about Thanksgiving was the pumpkin pie. It's a family holiday, right? Shouldn't I have missed family? Well yes, and I did. But we had just left home, so I wasn't feeling the sadness of being away from the people I loved on Thanksgiving. I talked to everyone that day, but didn't ache for home.
Because of that experience, I had expectations of how I would react to being away from home this Thanksgiving. The thing is that this time, I've been away from home for so long, all I could think about was being home in the comfort of a warm home with Dave and my families. I even considered a quick trip home so I could see everyone. But I refrained and we decided to spend this Thanksgiving with an American girlfriend of mine here in Lyon. She loves to cook and was dieing to make a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, and Dave and I love to eat and would love to share a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, so we thought this might be a really good match.
Early on Thanksgiving morning, Rita and I started our shopping and bought everything we needed. It was absolutely amazing the difference between shopping here on Thanksgiving and shopping at home. At home, if you have any sense at all, you don't end up at a grocery store on T-day. And if you do go, it has to be before 2pm, and be prepared to deal with hordes of crazy people frantic because they forgot something they desperately needed. Lines are out the door, people are screaming, pleading and barking. It just ain't pretty. But here, we had a liesurely morning meandering through the market, deciding on the menu as we went, and sampling all the products on special that day. What a great way to start a holiday. Then we settled down for a nice lunch and coffee. In the afternoon I had a dance class, so we decided she would pick up the turkey she had special ordered from a local boucherie and I would be back at her house at about 5pm.
When I got back to her place she told me that her boyfriend wasn't going to be able to make it until about 9 because of the darn train strike that was going on in France. So, we openned a bottle of wine and settled into an evening of liesurely cooking. I peeled and blended and shelled, while Rita, the expert cook that she is, calmly put together an amazing meal. She made a gorgous Turkey (more to follow!), mashed potatoes, yams, and greenbeans. Yummy!
Dave arrived at 7:15pm and we sat down to our only Frenchized portion of our Thanksgiving dinner, pate, 3 delicious cheeses, toasts, and some Beaujolais. Beaujolais? Here's Dave to tell you more about that....
Thanksgiving arrived in Lyon and through the wonders of pervasive American culture, all our friends and co-workers knew about Thanksgiving. They weren't going to do anything special themselves, they just wanted to know if we were going to be OK, because they understood this was an important family holiday.
Anyway, everyone here was more wrapped up in the Beaujolais Nouveau. Oh yeah... We had heard about this, but maybe something got lost in translation? This is when the first of the Beaujolais wine from the year hits the market. So, this is like super young red wine? Wouldn't the wine be better if it aged a bit? Well, apparently, we didn't misunderstand. Even the French admit it is silly, but they have races to get the wine to Paris or Japan, plus public spectacles and parties. Since we're right in the Beaujolais area, it's not so much a race as an excuse to have big parties and drink lots of wine. Signs in all the restaurants remind us that the beaujolais "has arrived!"
So, it was amid this wine quaffing backdrop that we humble Americans put together our plans for Thanksgiving. Personally I love Thanksgiving, if only because it has stubbornly resisted commercialization and (somewhat) acts as a bulwark against the monster marketing machine known as Christmas. Our British friends tell us "you guys are lucky you have Thanksgiving. We've been forced to listen to Christmas music in the malls since October!" Well, even if Thanksgiving is reduced to just a green flag for the Great Christmas Shopping Spree - at least WE were going to do something to celebrate.
The American club did have something planned for Thanksgiving, but like any organization that is entirely volunteers, the whole thing was mismanaged and we were told the event was full. So, instead we joined with our American friend Rita and her French boyfriend Olivier for a quiet Thanksgiving evening. Rita loves to cook and nothing was going to stop her from making turkey, stuffing, potatoes, and yams. And we could drink some of this Beaujolais Nouveau stuff at the same time! Monica and Rita picked up a bunch of bottles. "You can only get it at this time of year, so we seized our opportunity!"
The rest of their shopping went normally, except for the turkey. Rita tried to explain to Olivier just how plentiful turkey is in the US at Thanksgiving - that they even give them away free at the grocery stores when you spend a certain amount. Here turkey just isn't very popular, and unless you want pre-packaged sliced turkey you have to wait for Christmas or order it. So, Rita ordered a 16 pound bird from her butcher. She knew it was going to be expensive. Very expensive. She ordered it the day before Thanksgiving so it was also a rush delivery... Uh oh. Rita? How much did that 16-lb bird cost? Well, it was enough that she almost considered not having turkey for Thanksgiving. She sucked in her breath when she found out what it was going to cost. Ninety-nine euro ($150). Oh my god! Maybe we should just fill up on caviar and savor the turkey bit by bit.
Olivier got delayed by the train strike, so the three of us had cheese and pâté on toasts and opened up the Beaujolais Nouveau while we waited. Hey, this stuff isn't bad, it's actually quite quaffable. I read that it is sort of the wine equivalent of eating cookie dough. And, since it is made so quickly, it doesn't age well. Uh oh. I guess we'd better open more bottles! After a bottle or two, it's really quite delicious!
I think Monica will tell you about the delicious food we had - I'm sure you had plenty of good traditional favorites too - but it's all a drunken blur in my mind. No! I'm just kidding! We didn't drink THAT much. It was really a nice Thanksgiving and the two celebrations together made for a pleasant combination. I hope you had a great Thanksgiving too!
A final note on America... We were walking down the street when Monica exclaimed that there was a painting with the label "America" and it was a woman with naked breasts sticking straight out! Well, we are the "Land of the Free." Oh, and there was a man grabbing them! "Ah, That would be Home of the Brave!"
Saturday, November 17, 2007
And Dimple Makes Three
Anyone who knows Monica could guess that living with her must be an adventure - she is always coming up with new ideas. So really, living in France has been two adventures - living in France, plus the regular adventure of living with Monica. On Monica's part, she knows that I am willing to go along with whatever new thing she has cooked up, so she can feel free to just start on something and tell me later.
(View from the Fourvière)
So it was no surprise to Monica that I didn't flip out when she calmly told me that, by the way, a stranger was going to be living with us for a while. She didn't know how long or what kind of criminal record this person had. In fact, she hadn't even met her.
Dave: "Her?" What's her name?
Monica: Bunny. Bunny Bedhopper. She's an adult film star who's desperate.
Dave: Really? Well, all right she can stay, but I get to keep my pillow and you two can't hog the covers!
All right her name isn't Bunny, it's not even Dimple, but we'll call her that for her privacy. She's Indian, 22-years old, and she wants to work in French-speaking West Africa. She came to Lyon to learn French after graduating from Virginia Tech and getting a position teaching English at a local university. She was staying with some girls, but her room had such a bad mold problem she couldn't breathe. So, she asked if she could move to the tiny room down the hall and initially they agreed, but then they had a change of heart and said she had to be out of the house by Saturday (3 days). Well, maybe something was left out of the story, but the result was Dimple didn't have a place to stay, was desperate, and a friend posted a message to the American club email list (on Friday). Monica saw that and immediately offered to help her out.
So, that explained the suitcases in the corner and the new products in the bathroom. Dimple actually turned out to be a model roommate. Every day she would fold up and put away the sofabed, clean up the bathroom, and generally made as little an impression on the living space as possible. She even offered to stock the refrigerator, we laughed and told her it was all hers since we eat out every night. Basically, we wanted her to have a base where she could make phone calls, have internet access, and be able to store her stuff without stress. Dimple for her part was very quiet and actually kind of depressed.
View of Fourvière from the Saône
As the weeks dragged on Monica observed that this depression was probably the major reason Dimple was not able to find a place. Like any depressed person, Dimple didn't notice all the people who wanted to help her and she didn't feel like asking for help. A "perfect" apartment came up, but she needed to fill out a long contract in French. Another teacher at the school offered to help her, but Dimple didn't want to take her up on it. Another place required a "guarantor" - someone French who basically co-signs the contract. There are several ways to get around this, some people ask their boss or friend to sign. We got around it by convincing our landlord we were financially sound. Dimple's parents could provide this kind of backing, but again, "I probably won't get it." In fact, Dimple sounded so much like Eeyore that Monica was thinking even if she had been French, she wouldn't be willing to be her guarantor.
In fact, what was up with her parents? Weren't they worried about her? It turns out they were frantic but Dimple didn't really tell them very much, perhaps to keep them from stressing. They learned that she was now living with some couple from America she didn't even know. Aaah! How alarming! What kind of bizarre, predatory people would snatch some girl up off the streets? "Relax," Dimple told them, "Monica is Indian." And incredibly that did the trick. Apparently India does not have weirdos or predators. Well, whatever, I guess I could bask in the grace of Monica's heritage as in the same instant I too was immediately accepted as a good person.
As we were leaving for a trip, Monica overheard Dimple on the phone chatting with a friend say "if I'm here at the end of November, this will have been the place I've lived the longest." Hmmm, maybe this would be a good time to remind Dimple WHY she was here - to look for someplace to live. Dimple took this in good grace and by the time we had returned, miracle of miracles, she had found a place. In fact, a great place, and she was really happy. She's living with 3 other girls who only speak French (which is exactly what she was hoping for). We found a note on the table explaining everything, that she'd be back to pick up the rest of her stuff and give back the keys, and that sort of thing. She also left us a sketch of the Fourvière which we hung on the wall. Another interesting episode in France.
View of Fourvière from our bedroom
So it was no surprise to Monica that I didn't flip out when she calmly told me that, by the way, a stranger was going to be living with us for a while. She didn't know how long or what kind of criminal record this person had. In fact, she hadn't even met her.
Dave: "Her?" What's her name?
Monica: Bunny. Bunny Bedhopper. She's an adult film star who's desperate.
Dave: Really? Well, all right she can stay, but I get to keep my pillow and you two can't hog the covers!
All right her name isn't Bunny, it's not even Dimple, but we'll call her that for her privacy. She's Indian, 22-years old, and she wants to work in French-speaking West Africa. She came to Lyon to learn French after graduating from Virginia Tech and getting a position teaching English at a local university. She was staying with some girls, but her room had such a bad mold problem she couldn't breathe. So, she asked if she could move to the tiny room down the hall and initially they agreed, but then they had a change of heart and said she had to be out of the house by Saturday (3 days). Well, maybe something was left out of the story, but the result was Dimple didn't have a place to stay, was desperate, and a friend posted a message to the American club email list (on Friday). Monica saw that and immediately offered to help her out.
So, that explained the suitcases in the corner and the new products in the bathroom. Dimple actually turned out to be a model roommate. Every day she would fold up and put away the sofabed, clean up the bathroom, and generally made as little an impression on the living space as possible. She even offered to stock the refrigerator, we laughed and told her it was all hers since we eat out every night. Basically, we wanted her to have a base where she could make phone calls, have internet access, and be able to store her stuff without stress. Dimple for her part was very quiet and actually kind of depressed.
As the weeks dragged on Monica observed that this depression was probably the major reason Dimple was not able to find a place. Like any depressed person, Dimple didn't notice all the people who wanted to help her and she didn't feel like asking for help. A "perfect" apartment came up, but she needed to fill out a long contract in French. Another teacher at the school offered to help her, but Dimple didn't want to take her up on it. Another place required a "guarantor" - someone French who basically co-signs the contract. There are several ways to get around this, some people ask their boss or friend to sign. We got around it by convincing our landlord we were financially sound. Dimple's parents could provide this kind of backing, but again, "I probably won't get it." In fact, Dimple sounded so much like Eeyore that Monica was thinking even if she had been French, she wouldn't be willing to be her guarantor.
In fact, what was up with her parents? Weren't they worried about her? It turns out they were frantic but Dimple didn't really tell them very much, perhaps to keep them from stressing. They learned that she was now living with some couple from America she didn't even know. Aaah! How alarming! What kind of bizarre, predatory people would snatch some girl up off the streets? "Relax," Dimple told them, "Monica is Indian." And incredibly that did the trick. Apparently India does not have weirdos or predators. Well, whatever, I guess I could bask in the grace of Monica's heritage as in the same instant I too was immediately accepted as a good person.
As we were leaving for a trip, Monica overheard Dimple on the phone chatting with a friend say "if I'm here at the end of November, this will have been the place I've lived the longest." Hmmm, maybe this would be a good time to remind Dimple WHY she was here - to look for someplace to live. Dimple took this in good grace and by the time we had returned, miracle of miracles, she had found a place. In fact, a great place, and she was really happy. She's living with 3 other girls who only speak French (which is exactly what she was hoping for). We found a note on the table explaining everything, that she'd be back to pick up the rest of her stuff and give back the keys, and that sort of thing. She also left us a sketch of the Fourvière which we hung on the wall. Another interesting episode in France.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
More Parents + Annecy
When my dad and stepmom (T+T for short) visited us we were in the middle of a move, we didn't know the city well, and we weren't even sure we'd have a place for them to sleep. Now with Monica's parents arriving, we were in a place twice as big, we had a sofa bed and an air mattress, and we could sleepwalk through the metro, train stations, and buses. But we had a big challenge ahead of us... finding good spicy vegetarian food for Monica's mom. Not so hard you think, well, she also doesn't really want to eat salads for a meal, nor does she like a lot of cheese on her food nor pasta, nor eggs. We knew we could go to Indian or Chinese, but it is always mild. Plus, we wanted Monica's dad to be able to try some of the Lyonnais specialities from chefs we knew. The result was various restaurants had reservations placed with special requests to make something spicy and vegetarian next Tuesday, etc. And our preparation paid off! Both Monica's parents loved the food in Lyon. Phew!
Monica's parents also wanted to travel around and see something besides Lyon, but we just had the weekend to do that so we thought this would be a good chance to visit the nearby Alpine ville called Annecy. It's called "the Venice of the Alps" because of the beautiful canals through the downtown area. One reviewer said the 3 most beautiful cities in the world (in his opinion) are Prague, Bruges, and Annecy. But if that's true shouldn't Venice be called "the Annecy of the Mediterranean?" Well, Annecy is definitely up there being situated on a lake, surrounded by majestic alps, riddled with little canals, and garnished with swans and bushels of flowers. With all that, they can't really go wrong. As an unexpected bonus Sunday was the market day so the streets were filled with stands selling fruits & vegetables, cheeses, meat, clothes, children's toys... Hey! What kind of farmer's market is this? Monica and her mom didn't seem to mind as they started looking at purses, boots, shawls, jewelry... Monica's mom bought us a new bedspread. Certainly not something I expected.
Besides beauty, the other thing Annecy seems to be known for is paragliding. We saw swarms of them pinwheeling around the mountain peaks. Although Monica's parents are adventurous, they're not THAT adventurous. But WE picked up a brochure and price list from one of the adrenaline shops that line the quays in case we come back with friends our own age. Judging by how casually they let me go rock climbing (you pay your money - now go for it!) They probably just push you off a cliff and say "See you at the bottom!"
Shopping...
While we were there we went to a restaurant 15 minutes out of Annecy recommended by Laurent. It's a combination restaurant/dairy where you dine within cud-shot of the cows. Certainly not something you could do in the US. We had fondue and this dish called raclette - something I ordered because I had read about it and now found it on a menu. In the old days the hostess would take a wheel of cheese and grill the top of it, then rake (hence the name) the cheese onto your plate of bread/potatoes etc. These days the cheese comes sliced and you have a little shoe and oven to do it yourself. Talk about sinful and delicious! The alpine farm idea of portion size is also old-fashioned. We couldn't come close to finishing - we even ordered food for 3 and there were 4 of us.
One of the owners must be into taxidermy as they also had a two storey barn filled with creepy stuffed wildlife. As I snapped pictures, Monica asked "why are you taking pictures in here, when there are scenic vistas just outside?" "Because, every time I try to get a picture of the bunnies by my office, they dive into a bush. I have seen upwards of 15 bunnies (at one time!) bounding around the lawns of the industrial park. But I can never get close enough to make them look like more than a vague bunny shape on green. Finally I'll get a clean shot of one!" OK, this needs a little work in photoshop... but then maybe I can convince someone I shot this outside my office. Maybe? No?
Monica's parents also wanted to travel around and see something besides Lyon, but we just had the weekend to do that so we thought this would be a good chance to visit the nearby Alpine ville called Annecy. It's called "the Venice of the Alps" because of the beautiful canals through the downtown area. One reviewer said the 3 most beautiful cities in the world (in his opinion) are Prague, Bruges, and Annecy. But if that's true shouldn't Venice be called "the Annecy of the Mediterranean?" Well, Annecy is definitely up there being situated on a lake, surrounded by majestic alps, riddled with little canals, and garnished with swans and bushels of flowers. With all that, they can't really go wrong. As an unexpected bonus Sunday was the market day so the streets were filled with stands selling fruits & vegetables, cheeses, meat, clothes, children's toys... Hey! What kind of farmer's market is this? Monica and her mom didn't seem to mind as they started looking at purses, boots, shawls, jewelry... Monica's mom bought us a new bedspread. Certainly not something I expected.
Besides beauty, the other thing Annecy seems to be known for is paragliding. We saw swarms of them pinwheeling around the mountain peaks. Although Monica's parents are adventurous, they're not THAT adventurous. But WE picked up a brochure and price list from one of the adrenaline shops that line the quays in case we come back with friends our own age. Judging by how casually they let me go rock climbing (you pay your money - now go for it!) They probably just push you off a cliff and say "See you at the bottom!"
Shopping...
While we were there we went to a restaurant 15 minutes out of Annecy recommended by Laurent. It's a combination restaurant/dairy where you dine within cud-shot of the cows. Certainly not something you could do in the US. We had fondue and this dish called raclette - something I ordered because I had read about it and now found it on a menu. In the old days the hostess would take a wheel of cheese and grill the top of it, then rake (hence the name) the cheese onto your plate of bread/potatoes etc. These days the cheese comes sliced and you have a little shoe and oven to do it yourself. Talk about sinful and delicious! The alpine farm idea of portion size is also old-fashioned. We couldn't come close to finishing - we even ordered food for 3 and there were 4 of us.
One of the owners must be into taxidermy as they also had a two storey barn filled with creepy stuffed wildlife. As I snapped pictures, Monica asked "why are you taking pictures in here, when there are scenic vistas just outside?" "Because, every time I try to get a picture of the bunnies by my office, they dive into a bush. I have seen upwards of 15 bunnies (at one time!) bounding around the lawns of the industrial park. But I can never get close enough to make them look like more than a vague bunny shape on green. Finally I'll get a clean shot of one!" OK, this needs a little work in photoshop... but then maybe I can convince someone I shot this outside my office. Maybe? No?
Monday, October 22, 2007
Heaven
About 4 years ago, when I was in the heat of building a business and had very little time for travel, Dave took a biking vacation with his Dad. They came to France to bicycle in the Dordogne. Each day he would call me and tell me about the views of the rolling hills, the beautiful castles, and the unbelievable food. The scenery sounded enchanting, but my greatest heartache was being deprived of the experience of tasting the food. The Dordogne is known for it's foie gras, and for those who know me, you know that foie gras is my ultimate weakness. I know there is so much controversy about it, but I just can't resist it. It’s flavor, the way it melts in your mouth, the sensual feeling that infuses me after I've eaten just a little. It's always served in small portions because it's so rich, so I am always left yearning for more. It's like my craving is insatiable. And whenever I have some, I melt into a puddle of bliss. Each night Dave would tell me about the meals he had and how this foie gras tasted like this, and that one tasted like that, and they served it over duck today, and the served it in a salad yesterday. And I just wanted to cry. I was sitting at home, busting my butt crunching numbers for my business and he was immersed in the sensual pleasures of the French countryside and cuisine. When he came home, he told me how much he missed me because he could just imagine the rapture in my eyes as I luxuriated in all that he had experienced. Then he told me that he would take me there one day.
When we moved to France, one of the first things he wanted to do was to take me to the Dordogne, and to Sarlat in particular. So we checked out train rides and it was going to take us 11 hours to get there! We checked out flights, and they were $500 a person! We thought about driving, but it would still take 11 hours! Oh my, this seemed like so much trouble, but we live in Lyon! We get the best food in France right here in Lyon, right? I convinced myself that our foie gras is just as good as theirs, and we procrastinated on taking the trip.
Last weekend, after our string of guests finally ended, I was exhausted. It has been months of entertaining and hosting people. As much as I love being hostess, and as much as I love my friends and family even more, I was completely worn out. So, Dave suggested that we go away for a weekend to thank me for taking such good care of everyone. And no place could surpass Sarlat. Evidently, this is what I deserved, and what he craved, this weekend. So, he booked the train tickets, reserved a hotel, and took 2 days off of work, and whisked me away to Sarlat. (Well, whisked me away as fast as the French train system made possible.)
The train ride was long, but a very welcome respite from everything. I was forced to take downtime and just read a good book. It put me into a very relaxed mood, and by the time we got to Sarlat I was completely wound down. I was ready for good food and whatever else Dave had in mind for me.
We arrived at about 6pm, checked into our hotel, and immediately went out to dinner. While in Lyon, I have eaten lots of excellent foie gras, but I wasn't able to get any seared foie gras anywhere, so I was aching to have some. Dave took me to a cute little place right by our hotel, and I ordered a seared foie gras for my dinner. It arrived, I cut it with my fork, and put it in my mouth. And oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh..............OMG I melted. It was soooooooooooo good. Sooooooo...just what I needed. Dave hadn't started eating. He just sat there watching me take that first bite. A huge grin crept across his face as he watched my face transform with that first bite. This was going to be a very good weekend.
Each meal was more delectable than the last. Each new dish burst with new flavors. I was in absolute heaven. Between mealtimes, Dave took me for drives into the hills. We visited castles, sipped wine on lush green lawns next to the Dordogne River, under picturesque bridges, and walked in cute walled towns. Another one of Dave's surprises for me was Chateau Milandes. It was the chateau owned by Josephine Baker, American cabaret dancer who became famous in Paris. Being a dancer myself, I loved walking through it. Seeing all the pictures of her life, looking at the gorgeous costumes and headdresses, and seeing how she decorated her own "little" country chateau was mesmerizing for me. It was also heart-warming to hear about all the things she did to "change the world" with her money and her reputation. She did a lot to help with the Civil Rights movement in the US. She helped with the French resistance. And she adopted 12 children to try to give them a better life. She was a woman who did things with her money. Her story truly inspired me.
After that, we came back to Sarlat and roamed the cobblestone streets to find another little restaurant to experience. We walked into a tiny little side road and stopped at a secluded restaurant to look at the menu. As we stood there reading, a kind gentleman opened his door and exclaimed that this was a very good restaurant. We laughed with surprise at his enthusiasm. Dave asked, "Are you the proprietor?" “Bien sûr!” he exclaimed, "Thats how I know!!" His excitement was irresistible, so we walked inside. And we weren't disappointed. After all the visual stimulation of the tour through Chateau Milandes, this was exactly the gastronomic sensation we needed to even the score. We had a walnut aperitif (walnuts are another thing for which Sarlat is known), another melt-in-your-mouth foie gras, and a delightful soft, creamy local goat cheese to finish it off. It was a day straight from heaven. I melted into the soft sheets of our bed that night with the thought “if this were the last day of my life, I couldn’t have asked for better.”
The next morning, we woke up before dawn and caught our train home. As we sat next to each other, my head resting on Dave's shoulder, I thanked my amazing husband for taking me to heaven for the weekend. He laughed. "That's where angels belong," he whispered. "I love you."
To see pictures of the beautiful Dordogne, go to:
http://s232.photobucket.com/albums/ee52/travelnuts/The%20Dordogne/
When we moved to France, one of the first things he wanted to do was to take me to the Dordogne, and to Sarlat in particular. So we checked out train rides and it was going to take us 11 hours to get there! We checked out flights, and they were $500 a person! We thought about driving, but it would still take 11 hours! Oh my, this seemed like so much trouble, but we live in Lyon! We get the best food in France right here in Lyon, right? I convinced myself that our foie gras is just as good as theirs, and we procrastinated on taking the trip.
Last weekend, after our string of guests finally ended, I was exhausted. It has been months of entertaining and hosting people. As much as I love being hostess, and as much as I love my friends and family even more, I was completely worn out. So, Dave suggested that we go away for a weekend to thank me for taking such good care of everyone. And no place could surpass Sarlat. Evidently, this is what I deserved, and what he craved, this weekend. So, he booked the train tickets, reserved a hotel, and took 2 days off of work, and whisked me away to Sarlat. (Well, whisked me away as fast as the French train system made possible.)
The train ride was long, but a very welcome respite from everything. I was forced to take downtime and just read a good book. It put me into a very relaxed mood, and by the time we got to Sarlat I was completely wound down. I was ready for good food and whatever else Dave had in mind for me.
We arrived at about 6pm, checked into our hotel, and immediately went out to dinner. While in Lyon, I have eaten lots of excellent foie gras, but I wasn't able to get any seared foie gras anywhere, so I was aching to have some. Dave took me to a cute little place right by our hotel, and I ordered a seared foie gras for my dinner. It arrived, I cut it with my fork, and put it in my mouth. And oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh..............OMG I melted. It was soooooooooooo good. Sooooooo...just what I needed. Dave hadn't started eating. He just sat there watching me take that first bite. A huge grin crept across his face as he watched my face transform with that first bite. This was going to be a very good weekend.
Each meal was more delectable than the last. Each new dish burst with new flavors. I was in absolute heaven. Between mealtimes, Dave took me for drives into the hills. We visited castles, sipped wine on lush green lawns next to the Dordogne River, under picturesque bridges, and walked in cute walled towns. Another one of Dave's surprises for me was Chateau Milandes. It was the chateau owned by Josephine Baker, American cabaret dancer who became famous in Paris. Being a dancer myself, I loved walking through it. Seeing all the pictures of her life, looking at the gorgeous costumes and headdresses, and seeing how she decorated her own "little" country chateau was mesmerizing for me. It was also heart-warming to hear about all the things she did to "change the world" with her money and her reputation. She did a lot to help with the Civil Rights movement in the US. She helped with the French resistance. And she adopted 12 children to try to give them a better life. She was a woman who did things with her money. Her story truly inspired me.
After that, we came back to Sarlat and roamed the cobblestone streets to find another little restaurant to experience. We walked into a tiny little side road and stopped at a secluded restaurant to look at the menu. As we stood there reading, a kind gentleman opened his door and exclaimed that this was a very good restaurant. We laughed with surprise at his enthusiasm. Dave asked, "Are you the proprietor?" “Bien sûr!” he exclaimed, "Thats how I know!!" His excitement was irresistible, so we walked inside. And we weren't disappointed. After all the visual stimulation of the tour through Chateau Milandes, this was exactly the gastronomic sensation we needed to even the score. We had a walnut aperitif (walnuts are another thing for which Sarlat is known), another melt-in-your-mouth foie gras, and a delightful soft, creamy local goat cheese to finish it off. It was a day straight from heaven. I melted into the soft sheets of our bed that night with the thought “if this were the last day of my life, I couldn’t have asked for better.”
The next morning, we woke up before dawn and caught our train home. As we sat next to each other, my head resting on Dave's shoulder, I thanked my amazing husband for taking me to heaven for the weekend. He laughed. "That's where angels belong," he whispered. "I love you."
To see pictures of the beautiful Dordogne, go to:
http://s232.photobucket.com/albums/ee52/travelnuts/The%20Dordogne/
Thursday, October 18, 2007
NaNoWriMo
No, it's not a chant, a mantra, or the name of a new disease. It's what will consume my life for the month of November! As many of you know, last year I discovered a book called "No Plot! No Problem!" and I got really excited. I have always wanted to write a book, have started many times, but never finished. This book seemed like exactly what I needed. The problem was that I discovered the book just before I left for France, and couldn't dedicate any time to it. So....I brought it with me and read it earlier this year. NaNoWriMo stands for "National Novel Writer's Month," and November is the designated month. So........I've got a couple of friends on-board and we are going to do it!!!!!!! We are going to write a novel in a month. What do you think? Think I can do it? We are encouraged to have friends, family, and perfect strangers take bets out on whether we'll finish or not as a motivation tactic. Any takers? The word is out....I'm taking bets!!!!
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Fast Forward Tape II
We have boarded our cruise and are on our way to Norway. As soon as we
board I realize again that, as much as I like the idea of being able
to see lots of places quickly without having to lug my luggage around to
a new hotel each night, cruising is not really my style. We are going
to have about 6 hours at each destination, except St. Petersburg, and
because our time is so limited in each place I feel compelled to just
book tours each day. But each tour starts at like 7:00 in the
morning!!!!! I don't wanna get up at 6am every day of my holiday!!!!! Aargh!!!
But, that's the way they do things on this cruise, so I sign us up
for some interesting tours and then go up to the pool deck and watch the
ocean slip by as I sip a frothy mixed drink in my swimsuit.
We arrive in Norway and board our tour bus. Our first stop is the
Vigeland Sculpture Park. Oh my goodness it's beautiful. You know how much I
adore Rodin's work, but this artist is even more amazing! Where most
of Rodin's work is heavy and dark, this artist sculpted people in every
day life, doing things we can all relate to, even today. He sculpted
them naked so as to make the sculptures timeless, and the figures
all look soft and human, even though they are in stone. It took my
breath away. It turns out that Gustav Vigeland was a contemporary of Rodin, and
so Rodin's work influenced his work, and vice-a-versa. That explained
a lot. What a delightful way to start our day.
Next they took us to their ski-jump. Ski-jump? Why the heck would we
want to see that? Well, it was huge! The tour guide told us that
Norweigian mothers are some "serious mama's" because their children are
born with skis on. It makes for quite a delivery ;) And if they happen
to not be born with ski's on, most children get their first pair of skis
on their first Christmas and learn to ski before they learn to walk.
Talk about human beings adjusting to their environments! It snows so
much in Norway, well of-course they'd learn to ski before they learn to
walk! I'm always amazed at the human ability to survive and thrive no
matter where they are and what they have to deal with.
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
Next stop Tallinn, Estonia. Beautiful Eastern European city. Gorgeous
architecture, adorable cobblestone streets, and lovely people. We got
to see the town Mercantile Guild building that was started during the
prosperous days of Tallinn. In order to be able to get membership into
the Guild a man was required to own a house, a cow, and a wife. Own a
WIFE?!!!! Um....not a word from you guys out there! Wives and cows
are NOT comparable, and you cannot "own" a wife!
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
And off to Gdansk, Poland. The thing that was most striking about Gdansk is the spirit of the people. We have all met Polish people who have emigrated from Poland to make more money. It makes sense, because things are still pretty bad in Poland. But the people seem so hopeful. Things are so much better today than they have been in the past, and they keep getting better. So the Poles that leave, fully intend to come back to help their country succeed, and the ones that stay in Poland work hard and have a genuine smile in their eyes. They were a true inspiration!
Another interesting thing was the 1 kilometer long building!!! It just kept going forever!
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
The next port of call was St. Petersburg, Russia, and we were there for 2 days. I was actually going to write a full blog about St. Petersburg called War, Religion, and Royalty. The city is absolutely stunning, if you like overly ornate buildings, palaces on every street corner, grand domed churches, and canals and rivers. It certainly was an impressive sight to see...at first. But within a few hours I started to wonder, how can a government spend so much money on such decadence, when it's residents still suffer from poverty? Inside of me I found a huge conflict burning stronger and stronger by the minute. After seeing the first couple of churches and palaces, which I found very impressive, I had had enough. Why is there so much?! And everywhere we went they talked about how this royal family was instrumental in the victory of this war or won a victory in that war. By the end of the trip I kept thinking, "If I have to go through one more church or palace, or hear one more war story, I'm going to scream!" So, although it was beautiful, it was too much for my taste.
Having said that, I will say that I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to visit the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg. It is huge and if you spent 30 seconds (or 3 minutes...I'm not remembering which) in front of each piece of art in the museum, it would take you 3 full years, non-stop, to get through the whole museum. It was an incredible collection. We saw Rembrandts, da Vinci’s, Raphael’s, Titians and Michelangelo’s. There were also Monet’s, Renoir’s, Picassos, Cézannes, Gauguins, and of course Van Goghs. There were paintings and sculptures, samples of lamoge and delftware. It was a true feast for the eyes. Everywhere you turned there was something stunning. We were very lucky because our tour guide in St. Petersburg is a tour guide teacher, and she is very well known in St. Petersburg. So she got us a special early admission to the Hermitage, so we got to view it privately for the most part. We started with basically a private tour and even after the doors opened to the public we were so far ahead of everyone that we didn't run into anyone else until we were coming to the end of the tour. It was a truly amazing experience.
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
(Our next stop was Helsinki, which Dave wants to write about. So I won't put anything here. But stay tuned for his blog about this one)
And next we landed in Stockholm, Sweden. What a gorgeous city Stockholm is! Everywhere you looked it was just delightful. But the best part of my trip to Stockholm was a conversation I had with another lady in my tour group. She was a beautiful older Indian woman. I had run into her several times on our ship and she had always given me a very pleasant hello. She had a beautiful accent and spoke English perfectly, so I wasn't sure if she lived in America or India. In Stockholm she was on my same tour and at one point, as I was sitting alone waiting for Dave to run and take pictures, she sat next to me and started chatting. Toward the end of that conversation she said to me "You are so lucky to have such a loving attentive husband.....and I'm so proud that you married an American." What?!!!! I must have looked completely shocked because she laughed. She continued "Indian men are such chauvinistic pigs. I keep trying to convince my daughter to marry someone better for her, like an American. But she keeps refusing and keeps marrying Indians!!! She's been divorced twice and is dating another one! It's so frustrating!" I must have looked bug-eyed and I had no idea what to say. I couldn't believe an older Indian woman had just said that to me. After a few moments of shocked silence I started to giggle. I told her I'd have died to have her around to talk to my parents when they were trying to arrange a marriage for me, and kept threatening to disown me if I married out of the culture?!!!! And I wished she'd been there when I brought Dave home and hoped to God my parents would look past the white skin and see the man I was in love with? OMG! I couldn't believe older Indian women like this existed! She laughed a beautiful musical laugh and said again how proud she was that I stood up for what I wanted and did so well. Of course, on the very first conversation with my parents after I got back from the trip, I told them this story, and they just laughed. "Yeah, well, no one's perfect," they admitted. "We are so glad you married Dave too."
bloop bloop bloop bloop.....
We ended in Copenhagen, which is a beautiful city too. We spent the day exploring Tivoli Garden, and walking through the city. We had lunch at Wagamama Ramen Restaurant. Notice, it's a ramen restaurant. Ramen...the stuff we all lived on when we were starving college students...remember? Well, we had a salad, 2 bowls of ramen and a side of 4 pieces of sushi, and tap water. And it cost us $100!!!!!!!!!!!! One hundred flippin' dollars for ramen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Okay, they'd told us Denmark was expensive, but this was rediculous!!!! We got hungry again after about an hour...um, because it was RAMEN...but we couldn't afford another meal in Denmark so we starved until we got back to the ship. No wonder the Danes are so skinny!!!!
Later that day we boarded our ship, ate immediately :) , and the ship headed home......
End of tape II....Recordings ended.
To see pictures, goto: http://s232.photobucket.com/albums/ee52/travelnuts/Baltic%20Cruise/
board I realize again that, as much as I like the idea of being able
to see lots of places quickly without having to lug my luggage around to
a new hotel each night, cruising is not really my style. We are going
to have about 6 hours at each destination, except St. Petersburg, and
because our time is so limited in each place I feel compelled to just
book tours each day. But each tour starts at like 7:00 in the
morning!!!!! I don't wanna get up at 6am every day of my holiday!!!!! Aargh!!!
But, that's the way they do things on this cruise, so I sign us up
for some interesting tours and then go up to the pool deck and watch the
ocean slip by as I sip a frothy mixed drink in my swimsuit.
We arrive in Norway and board our tour bus. Our first stop is the
Vigeland Sculpture Park. Oh my goodness it's beautiful. You know how much I
adore Rodin's work, but this artist is even more amazing! Where most
of Rodin's work is heavy and dark, this artist sculpted people in every
day life, doing things we can all relate to, even today. He sculpted
them naked so as to make the sculptures timeless, and the figures
all look soft and human, even though they are in stone. It took my
breath away. It turns out that Gustav Vigeland was a contemporary of Rodin, and
so Rodin's work influenced his work, and vice-a-versa. That explained
a lot. What a delightful way to start our day.
Next they took us to their ski-jump. Ski-jump? Why the heck would we
want to see that? Well, it was huge! The tour guide told us that
Norweigian mothers are some "serious mama's" because their children are
born with skis on. It makes for quite a delivery ;) And if they happen
to not be born with ski's on, most children get their first pair of skis
on their first Christmas and learn to ski before they learn to walk.
Talk about human beings adjusting to their environments! It snows so
much in Norway, well of-course they'd learn to ski before they learn to
walk! I'm always amazed at the human ability to survive and thrive no
matter where they are and what they have to deal with.
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
Next stop Tallinn, Estonia. Beautiful Eastern European city. Gorgeous
architecture, adorable cobblestone streets, and lovely people. We got
to see the town Mercantile Guild building that was started during the
prosperous days of Tallinn. In order to be able to get membership into
the Guild a man was required to own a house, a cow, and a wife. Own a
WIFE?!!!! Um....not a word from you guys out there! Wives and cows
are NOT comparable, and you cannot "own" a wife!
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
And off to Gdansk, Poland. The thing that was most striking about Gdansk is the spirit of the people. We have all met Polish people who have emigrated from Poland to make more money. It makes sense, because things are still pretty bad in Poland. But the people seem so hopeful. Things are so much better today than they have been in the past, and they keep getting better. So the Poles that leave, fully intend to come back to help their country succeed, and the ones that stay in Poland work hard and have a genuine smile in their eyes. They were a true inspiration!
Another interesting thing was the 1 kilometer long building!!! It just kept going forever!
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
The next port of call was St. Petersburg, Russia, and we were there for 2 days. I was actually going to write a full blog about St. Petersburg called War, Religion, and Royalty. The city is absolutely stunning, if you like overly ornate buildings, palaces on every street corner, grand domed churches, and canals and rivers. It certainly was an impressive sight to see...at first. But within a few hours I started to wonder, how can a government spend so much money on such decadence, when it's residents still suffer from poverty? Inside of me I found a huge conflict burning stronger and stronger by the minute. After seeing the first couple of churches and palaces, which I found very impressive, I had had enough. Why is there so much?! And everywhere we went they talked about how this royal family was instrumental in the victory of this war or won a victory in that war. By the end of the trip I kept thinking, "If I have to go through one more church or palace, or hear one more war story, I'm going to scream!" So, although it was beautiful, it was too much for my taste.
Having said that, I will say that I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to visit the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg. It is huge and if you spent 30 seconds (or 3 minutes...I'm not remembering which) in front of each piece of art in the museum, it would take you 3 full years, non-stop, to get through the whole museum. It was an incredible collection. We saw Rembrandts, da Vinci’s, Raphael’s, Titians and Michelangelo’s. There were also Monet’s, Renoir’s, Picassos, Cézannes, Gauguins, and of course Van Goghs. There were paintings and sculptures, samples of lamoge and delftware. It was a true feast for the eyes. Everywhere you turned there was something stunning. We were very lucky because our tour guide in St. Petersburg is a tour guide teacher, and she is very well known in St. Petersburg. So she got us a special early admission to the Hermitage, so we got to view it privately for the most part. We started with basically a private tour and even after the doors opened to the public we were so far ahead of everyone that we didn't run into anyone else until we were coming to the end of the tour. It was a truly amazing experience.
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
(Our next stop was Helsinki, which Dave wants to write about. So I won't put anything here. But stay tuned for his blog about this one)
And next we landed in Stockholm, Sweden. What a gorgeous city Stockholm is! Everywhere you looked it was just delightful. But the best part of my trip to Stockholm was a conversation I had with another lady in my tour group. She was a beautiful older Indian woman. I had run into her several times on our ship and she had always given me a very pleasant hello. She had a beautiful accent and spoke English perfectly, so I wasn't sure if she lived in America or India. In Stockholm she was on my same tour and at one point, as I was sitting alone waiting for Dave to run and take pictures, she sat next to me and started chatting. Toward the end of that conversation she said to me "You are so lucky to have such a loving attentive husband.....and I'm so proud that you married an American." What?!!!! I must have looked completely shocked because she laughed. She continued "Indian men are such chauvinistic pigs. I keep trying to convince my daughter to marry someone better for her, like an American. But she keeps refusing and keeps marrying Indians!!! She's been divorced twice and is dating another one! It's so frustrating!" I must have looked bug-eyed and I had no idea what to say. I couldn't believe an older Indian woman had just said that to me. After a few moments of shocked silence I started to giggle. I told her I'd have died to have her around to talk to my parents when they were trying to arrange a marriage for me, and kept threatening to disown me if I married out of the culture?!!!! And I wished she'd been there when I brought Dave home and hoped to God my parents would look past the white skin and see the man I was in love with? OMG! I couldn't believe older Indian women like this existed! She laughed a beautiful musical laugh and said again how proud she was that I stood up for what I wanted and did so well. Of course, on the very first conversation with my parents after I got back from the trip, I told them this story, and they just laughed. "Yeah, well, no one's perfect," they admitted. "We are so glad you married Dave too."
bloop bloop bloop bloop.....
We ended in Copenhagen, which is a beautiful city too. We spent the day exploring Tivoli Garden, and walking through the city. We had lunch at Wagamama Ramen Restaurant. Notice, it's a ramen restaurant. Ramen...the stuff we all lived on when we were starving college students...remember? Well, we had a salad, 2 bowls of ramen and a side of 4 pieces of sushi, and tap water. And it cost us $100!!!!!!!!!!!! One hundred flippin' dollars for ramen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Okay, they'd told us Denmark was expensive, but this was rediculous!!!! We got hungry again after about an hour...um, because it was RAMEN...but we couldn't afford another meal in Denmark so we starved until we got back to the ship. No wonder the Danes are so skinny!!!!
Later that day we boarded our ship, ate immediately :) , and the ship headed home......
End of tape II....Recordings ended.
To see pictures, goto: http://s232.photobucket.com/albums/ee52/travelnuts/Baltic%20Cruise/
Friday, October 05, 2007
Woohoo!!!!
Guess what?!!!! We're staying!!!!! OMG! We get to stay!!! Well, not forever, but Dave got an extension at work and we just signed a lease with a new tenant today, so it's all final, we are staying in Lyon until April 1st! I just wanted to share that with the whole world!!!! Woohooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Pictures of Ireland
I finally figured out a way to upload pictures so you could view them all. So...here are the pictures of Ireland. I hope you enjoy them:
http://s232.photobucket.com/albums/ee52/travelnuts/
http://s232.photobucket.com/albums/ee52/travelnuts/
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Fast Forward, Tape I
Oh my god am I behind! The last time I left you, we had just arrived
in Bunratty, Ireland and had a very animated conversation with a very
talkative teenage girl. Since I now have about 3 months of time to cover
in a blog or two, I'm going to do this in fast forward style.......
Rolling tape I:
We woke up the next morning in Bunratty, and went to Bunratty castle.
It was a lovely castle with replicas of old farm houses and farms
within the castle walls. That night we had a castle dinner complete with
folk dance and song and a beautiful harpist and violinist. As we entered
the castle for dinner we were each handed a glass of honey wine.
Mmmmmmmm..... as we sipped we were informed that honey wine is suppose to make a woman more fertile, and a man more verile. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh..........:) In the old days, when a couple was newly married, they drank honey wine for the first month of their marriage, or at least until the
next moon. That's how we got the term "honeymoon!" After that sweet
story, the men were guided in how to be perfect gentlemen of the court and
warned that if they were caught ogling any woman other than the lady at
thier side they would have thier eyes gouged out. And if they should
"drop some bread" and "accidentally" brush up against another woman,
they would be boiled in hot oil. Of course no gentleman at this event
would be so crass as to need such punishments, but they do keep the
caldron of oil ready just in case....
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
Driving the Irish countryside was gorgeous and we finally arrived at
the famous Cliffs of Mohr. They are as stunning as we'd been told. They
are sedimentary cliffs topped by a lush layer of green. So you can
see the history of the earth in the cliffs. Snap, snap...we took some
pictures and took a leisurely walk along the cliffs while enjoying the
sounds of the ocean waves below us.
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
Another day of driving in beautiful Ireland. We decided to visit the
Canamara today. The oceanside drive was grueling. The roads are so
skinny, the cliffs are steep, and it was raining. On the way back I had a
white knuckle grip on the door handle. It was pitch black with no
lights on the streets. It was a Friday night so the drinking had already
begun in the local pubs, and people were on the road going from pub to
pub. It was raining hard, and Dave was driving a stick-shift on a side
of the road he was not used to driving on while other cars zipped by
at seemingly break-neck speeds on these skinny country roads. Deep
breathes I kept whispering to myself. But suddenly a sharp turn appeared
out of the dark and I screamed. Dave smiled. "Relax Sweetie," he said
calmly "this is nothing. At least there is no fog." And as soon as he
said it, it's like someone had heard him, whooshh...a whispy fog
appeared. Dave paused, I was stunned, and Dave commented "well this isn't so
bad. It's a baby fog really." I had to laugh. He is really amazing.
And he had cracked himself up so much that he was grinning the rest
of the way home. As soon as he parked I practically jumped out of the
car and felt like falling to the ground and kissing it. But I was too
dignified for that, of course. But Dave knew what I was thinking and
winked. "Yes, I'm sure the ground would appreciate that kiss," he
commented. And I just grinned. "I'm just so happy to be ALIVE!!!! You're my hero!!!!!" I grabbed him and laid a big kiss on him. "Um...yes, I actually appreciated that kiss too!"
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
We arrive at Portrush. It's raining today and we can't see street
signs. The directions Dave got from the B&B owner we will be staying with
said something about "just keep going straight and you can't miss our
road..." Um....is that how everyone in Europe gives directions? We've
heard that before, and it NEVER works! But, being trusting Americans,
we just decide to follow directions. We go through Portrush and keep
driving. Soon we're on the edge of some cliff somewhere, in the rain,
wondering where the hell we are. Okay, figured! We see a hotel on
another nearby cliff and head over there to get directions. It turns out
the woman Dave talks to knows the owner of the B&B we are headed to and
gives impeccable directions.
We are driving along the road our b&b is on and we miss our turn....or
so we think. It looks like the right turn, but there is no sign for
the B&B on the corner, where it is supposed to be. We turn around
anyways and head back. As we pull onto the street, we see a lady with
frazzled red hair, in a housewife get up straight from an old movie, running
up to cars turning off the street and leaning in to talk to them.
"Quick," I tell Dave. "Looks like she's asking for money. If we turn
quickly she won't be be able to catch us!" We turn quickly onto the street
and then duck into the first driveway on the left, as instructed by our
directions. The crazy lady approaches us.... "Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer?"
she askes. "Yes...." "Oh thank goodness you made it. The other hotel
called to say you were lost so I was trying to help by asking all the
cars coming down my street if they were lost. I'm so glad you found us!"
Dave and I look at each other and burst out laughing. She grins
broadly, "I guess I must have looked like a crazy woman to you." She had no
idea!
The next day we drove to "the giant's causeway," which is why we came
to Northern Ireland in the first place. It was fascinating and
gorgeous. There were thousands of hexagonal shaped pillar like rocks standing
next to each other in fomrations. It's like people had laid them out
they were so perfectly arranged. But they were placed by the loving
hands of mother earth, and no one has been able to figure out how it all
actually happened. See the pictures on the link. You'll be amazed.
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
We arrive in Copenhagen. Dave spent the whole last night trying to
book a hotel, but to no avail. There was a fashion expo in Copenhagen
that week, and everything was booked. So, he booked a place in Malmoa,
Sweden. We take a train...yes a train over the sound between Copenhagen
and Sweden. They recently finished an incredible bridge that spans the
sound. It is one of the longest spans of bridge in the world. The
train runs very high speed and arrives in 20 minutes. Cool!!!!!!! After
breakfast the next morning, I start my "Nordic Cruise" blog....which I
never have time to finish and have not yet posted....But here is how
it starts:
We started our stay in copenhagen (actually Malmoa) with a breakfast of pate, caviar, and 5 types of herring. Organic coffee with organic milk, swedish pancakes, organic fruit yogurt, and fresh squeezed orange juice. When I went to the "sugar bar" to sweeten my organic coffee they offered unrefined sugar. Well, with a breakfast of pate and caviar I just couldn't put anything "unrefined" into my coffee, so I dunked in several refined sugar cubes. OMG!!! Are these guys for real?!!! I've never had a breakfast like this. Who eats a breakfast like this?!!! Ummmmmm......well, I guess we do :) And this is the cheap place in town! Our room only cost us about $100/night, including breakfast. I wonder what kinda breakfast the "nice" places serve. More than loving eating this stuff, we loved the look of it all, and just the idea that for the first time in our lives, we just had pate and caviar for breakfast. How bizarre!
End Tape I.......
in Bunratty, Ireland and had a very animated conversation with a very
talkative teenage girl. Since I now have about 3 months of time to cover
in a blog or two, I'm going to do this in fast forward style.......
Rolling tape I:
We woke up the next morning in Bunratty, and went to Bunratty castle.
It was a lovely castle with replicas of old farm houses and farms
within the castle walls. That night we had a castle dinner complete with
folk dance and song and a beautiful harpist and violinist. As we entered
the castle for dinner we were each handed a glass of honey wine.
Mmmmmmmm..... as we sipped we were informed that honey wine is suppose to make a woman more fertile, and a man more verile. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh..........:) In the old days, when a couple was newly married, they drank honey wine for the first month of their marriage, or at least until the
next moon. That's how we got the term "honeymoon!" After that sweet
story, the men were guided in how to be perfect gentlemen of the court and
warned that if they were caught ogling any woman other than the lady at
thier side they would have thier eyes gouged out. And if they should
"drop some bread" and "accidentally" brush up against another woman,
they would be boiled in hot oil. Of course no gentleman at this event
would be so crass as to need such punishments, but they do keep the
caldron of oil ready just in case....
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
Driving the Irish countryside was gorgeous and we finally arrived at
the famous Cliffs of Mohr. They are as stunning as we'd been told. They
are sedimentary cliffs topped by a lush layer of green. So you can
see the history of the earth in the cliffs. Snap, snap...we took some
pictures and took a leisurely walk along the cliffs while enjoying the
sounds of the ocean waves below us.
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
Another day of driving in beautiful Ireland. We decided to visit the
Canamara today. The oceanside drive was grueling. The roads are so
skinny, the cliffs are steep, and it was raining. On the way back I had a
white knuckle grip on the door handle. It was pitch black with no
lights on the streets. It was a Friday night so the drinking had already
begun in the local pubs, and people were on the road going from pub to
pub. It was raining hard, and Dave was driving a stick-shift on a side
of the road he was not used to driving on while other cars zipped by
at seemingly break-neck speeds on these skinny country roads. Deep
breathes I kept whispering to myself. But suddenly a sharp turn appeared
out of the dark and I screamed. Dave smiled. "Relax Sweetie," he said
calmly "this is nothing. At least there is no fog." And as soon as he
said it, it's like someone had heard him, whooshh...a whispy fog
appeared. Dave paused, I was stunned, and Dave commented "well this isn't so
bad. It's a baby fog really." I had to laugh. He is really amazing.
And he had cracked himself up so much that he was grinning the rest
of the way home. As soon as he parked I practically jumped out of the
car and felt like falling to the ground and kissing it. But I was too
dignified for that, of course. But Dave knew what I was thinking and
winked. "Yes, I'm sure the ground would appreciate that kiss," he
commented. And I just grinned. "I'm just so happy to be ALIVE!!!! You're my hero!!!!!" I grabbed him and laid a big kiss on him. "Um...yes, I actually appreciated that kiss too!"
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
We arrive at Portrush. It's raining today and we can't see street
signs. The directions Dave got from the B&B owner we will be staying with
said something about "just keep going straight and you can't miss our
road..." Um....is that how everyone in Europe gives directions? We've
heard that before, and it NEVER works! But, being trusting Americans,
we just decide to follow directions. We go through Portrush and keep
driving. Soon we're on the edge of some cliff somewhere, in the rain,
wondering where the hell we are. Okay, figured! We see a hotel on
another nearby cliff and head over there to get directions. It turns out
the woman Dave talks to knows the owner of the B&B we are headed to and
gives impeccable directions.
We are driving along the road our b&b is on and we miss our turn....or
so we think. It looks like the right turn, but there is no sign for
the B&B on the corner, where it is supposed to be. We turn around
anyways and head back. As we pull onto the street, we see a lady with
frazzled red hair, in a housewife get up straight from an old movie, running
up to cars turning off the street and leaning in to talk to them.
"Quick," I tell Dave. "Looks like she's asking for money. If we turn
quickly she won't be be able to catch us!" We turn quickly onto the street
and then duck into the first driveway on the left, as instructed by our
directions. The crazy lady approaches us.... "Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer?"
she askes. "Yes...." "Oh thank goodness you made it. The other hotel
called to say you were lost so I was trying to help by asking all the
cars coming down my street if they were lost. I'm so glad you found us!"
Dave and I look at each other and burst out laughing. She grins
broadly, "I guess I must have looked like a crazy woman to you." She had no
idea!
The next day we drove to "the giant's causeway," which is why we came
to Northern Ireland in the first place. It was fascinating and
gorgeous. There were thousands of hexagonal shaped pillar like rocks standing
next to each other in fomrations. It's like people had laid them out
they were so perfectly arranged. But they were placed by the loving
hands of mother earth, and no one has been able to figure out how it all
actually happened. See the pictures on the link. You'll be amazed.
bloop bloop bloop bloop....
We arrive in Copenhagen. Dave spent the whole last night trying to
book a hotel, but to no avail. There was a fashion expo in Copenhagen
that week, and everything was booked. So, he booked a place in Malmoa,
Sweden. We take a train...yes a train over the sound between Copenhagen
and Sweden. They recently finished an incredible bridge that spans the
sound. It is one of the longest spans of bridge in the world. The
train runs very high speed and arrives in 20 minutes. Cool!!!!!!! After
breakfast the next morning, I start my "Nordic Cruise" blog....which I
never have time to finish and have not yet posted....But here is how
it starts:
We started our stay in copenhagen (actually Malmoa) with a breakfast of pate, caviar, and 5 types of herring. Organic coffee with organic milk, swedish pancakes, organic fruit yogurt, and fresh squeezed orange juice. When I went to the "sugar bar" to sweeten my organic coffee they offered unrefined sugar. Well, with a breakfast of pate and caviar I just couldn't put anything "unrefined" into my coffee, so I dunked in several refined sugar cubes. OMG!!! Are these guys for real?!!! I've never had a breakfast like this. Who eats a breakfast like this?!!! Ummmmmm......well, I guess we do :) And this is the cheap place in town! Our room only cost us about $100/night, including breakfast. I wonder what kinda breakfast the "nice" places serve. More than loving eating this stuff, we loved the look of it all, and just the idea that for the first time in our lives, we just had pate and caviar for breakfast. How bizarre!
End Tape I.......
Monday, August 27, 2007
Finding work San Jose
Hello there Everyone!
Well, Dave and I are finally back in Lyon after an amazing vacation and a ton of travel. We got back to Lyon to discover that our internet and phone services were dead, so we've spent the last week trying to get ourselves back to a civilized state of communicatability. Is that a word? :) We are still down, so I'm at an internet cafe right now sending out this update. At least these cafes are plentiful :) We're preparing some blogs about our travels and hope to post them soon. But in the meantime, I have a question for everyone.
I have an ambitious friend who is trying desperately to improve her already fairly good English so she can pursue a decent career here in France. She was hoping to move to England or the US for about 3 months so she can immerse herself in the language for a while. She would like to find work, and might consider going to school. She was asking me if I thought she could find work for such a short period of time, and in spite of the fact that she's a foreigner. And would she need a work-permit or any other paperwork? I didn't have any answers for her, but I know there must be someone out there that might know some stuff. So, if anyone has any ideas or advice, please let us know. I love helping people reach their dreams so I'd love to see my friend have success in her career goals. Any thoughts?
Well, Dave and I are finally back in Lyon after an amazing vacation and a ton of travel. We got back to Lyon to discover that our internet and phone services were dead, so we've spent the last week trying to get ourselves back to a civilized state of communicatability. Is that a word? :) We are still down, so I'm at an internet cafe right now sending out this update. At least these cafes are plentiful :) We're preparing some blogs about our travels and hope to post them soon. But in the meantime, I have a question for everyone.
I have an ambitious friend who is trying desperately to improve her already fairly good English so she can pursue a decent career here in France. She was hoping to move to England or the US for about 3 months so she can immerse herself in the language for a while. She would like to find work, and might consider going to school. She was asking me if I thought she could find work for such a short period of time, and in spite of the fact that she's a foreigner. And would she need a work-permit or any other paperwork? I didn't have any answers for her, but I know there must be someone out there that might know some stuff. So, if anyone has any ideas or advice, please let us know. I love helping people reach their dreams so I'd love to see my friend have success in her career goals. Any thoughts?
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
The Emerald Isle...
Dublin 7/28/07
When they talk about the gae Irish, they aren't kidding. I have never seen so many smiling happy people in my life....well except for in Australia. The Aussies and the Irish are in a league of their own as far as being friendly, kind, and full of fun.
Our first night in Dublin we checked into your youth hostel room and headed out for our Saturday night on the town. We'd heard all about the Irish propensity to party hard and we wanted to see them in action. We headed to the Temple Bar area of Dublin, which is the hip part of town, and grabbed a window seat at a little restaurant. We each ordered appetizers and a big drink and then relaxed to watch the crowds go by. Saturday nights are Stag and Hen nights in many parts of the world, and Dublin is no exception. The Irish stags and hens were some of the most entertaining we'd seen....but Dave wants to write about that, so I will defer to him. Let me just say that at one point a group of about twenty 22 year old "bunnies" were walking towards a group of very drunk tourists wearing tall satin green leprecon hats. And out of the blue 2 of the bunnies hopped right into the arms of two of the extremely appreciative tourists :) They all tottered about the street for a bit while onlookers clapped and cheered. And then, straightened up in a very civilized way, and went on their merry ways. When Dave and I were talking about hen and stag nights Dave asked, why are they called that? Stags and hens aren't even the same species? AH HAA! I exclaimed. That explains why men and women have so much trouble getting along!!! We aren't even the same species!!!
I had never been in a town so lively on a Saturday night. In most cities there are different areas to hang out, but in Dublin Temple Bar is it, and there are no cars allowed, so everyone who is anyone comes to that area. So the pubs were hopping, the restaurants were packed, and the streets were full of people stolling by. It was so much fun. There was so much happiness everywhere, you couldn't help but get caught up in it all.
The next day Dave and I were so jet-lagged that we slept in until about 4!!!! Oops! So we hurried out to get some "lunch." We had some fabulous fish and chips and then went to an adorable little place called the "Queen of Tarts." After being in Amsterdam so recently, you can only imagine where our minds went immediately when we saw that name :) But the place had a reputation for fabulous tarts, so we stepped inside. The atmosphere was so cozy and inviting Dave and I huddled in a corner, ordered some coffee and some chocolate bread pudding, and again watched the crowds go by. This time a show of "Annie" was just getting out at the local theater so we saw lots of kids dancing about the sidewalks singing happy Annie songs. What a delightful way to spend an afternoon.
At about 7:30pm we joined our literature pub crawl at Duke's Pub on Duke street. Literature Pub Crawl...Only in Dublin!! The tour leaders were a couple of local actors who were full of stories and facts and kept us laughing for the 3 hours we were with them. The male actor had an absolutely gorgeous accent and kept me completely mezmerized. He also reminded me a ton of our friend Denis! He had the exact same mannerizms and style as Denis does. Denis we missed you!!
They told us all about many of the famous Irish authors including James Joyce, Oscar Wilde, and Samuel Beckett. They told us at lenght about Oscar Wilde's admiration of the American silverminers' gorgeous muscular bodies on his tour in America. And his disgust with all of his fellow students at Trinity College, Dublin's only University. At great length he described his peers as "simply aweful." We also heard about Samuel Beckett's drinking problems and heard about his tour of the United States. He screwed up so many of his interviews in the US that he finally decided to stop drinking, which he was doing fairly well at actually. Then he got a series of interviews in Canada, and never showed up for any of them. When an interviewer finally found him at a pub, astonished he asked Samuel why he had started drinking again. In a drunken flourish Samuel said that it all started because he saw a sign that said "Drink Canada Dry."
When Samuel was asked what the difference was between poetry and prose, he gave an example.
There once was a feller from Rollocks
Employed by a man called Pollocks
He stood in a stream
And dreamt of Irene
And the water came up to his knees.
This is prose. But if the tide had been in, that would have been f**kin' poetry!
The tour was probably one of the most informative tours culturally I have ever been on, but the best part of the tour was the pub stops. Boy oh Boy are those Irish beers yummy!!!! In the United States if I am forced to drink Irish beer, I will always choose a Murphy's over a Guiness, but I don't really like either one. But in Ireland, OMG, both are soooooo good. We couldn't stop drinking them. The Irish Guiness is so smooth it just slips into you, and Murphy's is so creamy you don't want to stop drinking. No wonder the Irish love to drink! In one of the pubs our leaders told us to check out a little room called the snug. The snug only holds about 6-8 people and is where the women were forced to go when they wanted to drink in public. They were forced to seperate themselves from the men because the religious leaders of the country were afraid that drunk men seeing women amongst them would be tempted to diverge from catholic morality. But according to our speakers, an Irishman is the only man in the world who will crawl over 20 naked women to get to a pint of beer!
We went to the Temple Bar area again for dinner that night and ate at a place called Gallegher's Boxty House. We'd heard that food in Ireland was terrible, so we hadn't expected much, but so far we had really enjoyed our meals. This meal however, was amazing. Boxties are like Irish crepes and the the way they were prepared at Gallegers they were amazing!!! Mine was filled with honey marinated pork and just melted in my mouth! I of course coupled it with a Guiness and by the time I was done I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. And no, I wasn't drunk :)
Oh yes, there was one other thing about Dublin. The weather was GORGEOUS!!! We couldn't believe how beautiful it was. The sun was shining and it was a perfect level of warm. What was this that everyone was telling us about it raining in Ireland all the time? We barely saw a little drizzle. So, by the end of our weekend in Dublin we were in love. The food, the people, the beer, even the weather. Oh my, what a way to start a vacation! I can't wait to see all the other parts of Ireland!
Kilkenny 7/31/07
Today we started our day in Dublin. We decided that we wanted to buy a book that was set in Ireland so we could read it together on this trip. We used to do that every time we were taking a trip. We'd buy a book set in the location we were visiting and then read it together. But we hadn't done that in a while and thought it might be fun to do in Ireland since we are going to be here for 9 days. We went to a huge bookstore and started to sift through our many choices. As we were searching the song "Eternal Flame" came on and I automatically, without realizing it, started to sing. An Irish guy next to me spontaneously started to sing also. We looked at each other, grinned broadly, and both broke into song together. And everyone around us grinned!!! OMG!! That would never happen in the US, or in France, or in any other place I've ever visited. It was so much fun. As I was singing I thought of the many times I've been with my sister Neela or my friend Paul, and we've broken into song in a public place. Usually people roll their eyes or politely try to pretend that they don't hear anything. It's so embarrassing! But I missed you two that morning. What fun it would have been to sing outloud in a bookstore and have everyone around us either singing with us or grinning at us. Wish you two had been there!
After lunch we picked up our car and headed onto a country road towards Kilkenny. Dave really is my hero. He just hopped into our rental car and headed out onto the road, driving on the wrong side of the road as if it were nothing. How does he do that?! He can make himself comfortable in any situation!!! He's so amazing! Anyways, we decided to go to Kilkenny because it is supposed to be one of the most nicely preserved traditional little Irish towns. All lighted signs are banned there so all signs are made with carved wood and paint. The building are all beautifully painted and there are pots of flower everywhere....on windows, hanging from the light posts, and all over the sidewalks. On one end of the town is and old Irish restored stone castle with huge green lawns heading out from the courtyard. On the other side of town is an old stone church with a bell tower so high it looked like a smokestack. We were struck by the old stonework of these two buildings. They were done using a grey stone that we have never seen anywhere else. It gives the buildings a very somber old-world look. I've seen so many other castles in other countries, but they usually use some sort of colored stone. These stones were so starkly grey, you just couldn't seem escape the fact that they were from a completely different time. They didn't go at all with any of the "newer" buildings, which were themselves very old and historical.
Although this little town was very cute, I have to say that the very best part of the day was the drive through the Irish countryside. Ireland is known as the emerald isle, and it's no wonder why. It was absolutely magnificently green. Just the emerald green rolling hills spotted with cows, sheep, horses, and farmhouses, took our breath away, and I didn't want the driving to stop. so, we decided to hit the road again the very next day instead of staying another day in Kilkenny.
When they talk about the gae Irish, they aren't kidding. I have never seen so many smiling happy people in my life....well except for in Australia. The Aussies and the Irish are in a league of their own as far as being friendly, kind, and full of fun.
Our first night in Dublin we checked into your youth hostel room and headed out for our Saturday night on the town. We'd heard all about the Irish propensity to party hard and we wanted to see them in action. We headed to the Temple Bar area of Dublin, which is the hip part of town, and grabbed a window seat at a little restaurant. We each ordered appetizers and a big drink and then relaxed to watch the crowds go by. Saturday nights are Stag and Hen nights in many parts of the world, and Dublin is no exception. The Irish stags and hens were some of the most entertaining we'd seen....but Dave wants to write about that, so I will defer to him. Let me just say that at one point a group of about twenty 22 year old "bunnies" were walking towards a group of very drunk tourists wearing tall satin green leprecon hats. And out of the blue 2 of the bunnies hopped right into the arms of two of the extremely appreciative tourists :) They all tottered about the street for a bit while onlookers clapped and cheered. And then, straightened up in a very civilized way, and went on their merry ways. When Dave and I were talking about hen and stag nights Dave asked, why are they called that? Stags and hens aren't even the same species? AH HAA! I exclaimed. That explains why men and women have so much trouble getting along!!! We aren't even the same species!!!
I had never been in a town so lively on a Saturday night. In most cities there are different areas to hang out, but in Dublin Temple Bar is it, and there are no cars allowed, so everyone who is anyone comes to that area. So the pubs were hopping, the restaurants were packed, and the streets were full of people stolling by. It was so much fun. There was so much happiness everywhere, you couldn't help but get caught up in it all.
The next day Dave and I were so jet-lagged that we slept in until about 4!!!! Oops! So we hurried out to get some "lunch." We had some fabulous fish and chips and then went to an adorable little place called the "Queen of Tarts." After being in Amsterdam so recently, you can only imagine where our minds went immediately when we saw that name :) But the place had a reputation for fabulous tarts, so we stepped inside. The atmosphere was so cozy and inviting Dave and I huddled in a corner, ordered some coffee and some chocolate bread pudding, and again watched the crowds go by. This time a show of "Annie" was just getting out at the local theater so we saw lots of kids dancing about the sidewalks singing happy Annie songs. What a delightful way to spend an afternoon.
At about 7:30pm we joined our literature pub crawl at Duke's Pub on Duke street. Literature Pub Crawl...Only in Dublin!! The tour leaders were a couple of local actors who were full of stories and facts and kept us laughing for the 3 hours we were with them. The male actor had an absolutely gorgeous accent and kept me completely mezmerized. He also reminded me a ton of our friend Denis! He had the exact same mannerizms and style as Denis does. Denis we missed you!!
They told us all about many of the famous Irish authors including James Joyce, Oscar Wilde, and Samuel Beckett. They told us at lenght about Oscar Wilde's admiration of the American silverminers' gorgeous muscular bodies on his tour in America. And his disgust with all of his fellow students at Trinity College, Dublin's only University. At great length he described his peers as "simply aweful." We also heard about Samuel Beckett's drinking problems and heard about his tour of the United States. He screwed up so many of his interviews in the US that he finally decided to stop drinking, which he was doing fairly well at actually. Then he got a series of interviews in Canada, and never showed up for any of them. When an interviewer finally found him at a pub, astonished he asked Samuel why he had started drinking again. In a drunken flourish Samuel said that it all started because he saw a sign that said "Drink Canada Dry."
When Samuel was asked what the difference was between poetry and prose, he gave an example.
There once was a feller from Rollocks
Employed by a man called Pollocks
He stood in a stream
And dreamt of Irene
And the water came up to his knees.
This is prose. But if the tide had been in, that would have been f**kin' poetry!
The tour was probably one of the most informative tours culturally I have ever been on, but the best part of the tour was the pub stops. Boy oh Boy are those Irish beers yummy!!!! In the United States if I am forced to drink Irish beer, I will always choose a Murphy's over a Guiness, but I don't really like either one. But in Ireland, OMG, both are soooooo good. We couldn't stop drinking them. The Irish Guiness is so smooth it just slips into you, and Murphy's is so creamy you don't want to stop drinking. No wonder the Irish love to drink! In one of the pubs our leaders told us to check out a little room called the snug. The snug only holds about 6-8 people and is where the women were forced to go when they wanted to drink in public. They were forced to seperate themselves from the men because the religious leaders of the country were afraid that drunk men seeing women amongst them would be tempted to diverge from catholic morality. But according to our speakers, an Irishman is the only man in the world who will crawl over 20 naked women to get to a pint of beer!
We went to the Temple Bar area again for dinner that night and ate at a place called Gallegher's Boxty House. We'd heard that food in Ireland was terrible, so we hadn't expected much, but so far we had really enjoyed our meals. This meal however, was amazing. Boxties are like Irish crepes and the the way they were prepared at Gallegers they were amazing!!! Mine was filled with honey marinated pork and just melted in my mouth! I of course coupled it with a Guiness and by the time I was done I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. And no, I wasn't drunk :)
Oh yes, there was one other thing about Dublin. The weather was GORGEOUS!!! We couldn't believe how beautiful it was. The sun was shining and it was a perfect level of warm. What was this that everyone was telling us about it raining in Ireland all the time? We barely saw a little drizzle. So, by the end of our weekend in Dublin we were in love. The food, the people, the beer, even the weather. Oh my, what a way to start a vacation! I can't wait to see all the other parts of Ireland!
Kilkenny 7/31/07
Today we started our day in Dublin. We decided that we wanted to buy a book that was set in Ireland so we could read it together on this trip. We used to do that every time we were taking a trip. We'd buy a book set in the location we were visiting and then read it together. But we hadn't done that in a while and thought it might be fun to do in Ireland since we are going to be here for 9 days. We went to a huge bookstore and started to sift through our many choices. As we were searching the song "Eternal Flame" came on and I automatically, without realizing it, started to sing. An Irish guy next to me spontaneously started to sing also. We looked at each other, grinned broadly, and both broke into song together. And everyone around us grinned!!! OMG!! That would never happen in the US, or in France, or in any other place I've ever visited. It was so much fun. As I was singing I thought of the many times I've been with my sister Neela or my friend Paul, and we've broken into song in a public place. Usually people roll their eyes or politely try to pretend that they don't hear anything. It's so embarrassing! But I missed you two that morning. What fun it would have been to sing outloud in a bookstore and have everyone around us either singing with us or grinning at us. Wish you two had been there!
After lunch we picked up our car and headed onto a country road towards Kilkenny. Dave really is my hero. He just hopped into our rental car and headed out onto the road, driving on the wrong side of the road as if it were nothing. How does he do that?! He can make himself comfortable in any situation!!! He's so amazing! Anyways, we decided to go to Kilkenny because it is supposed to be one of the most nicely preserved traditional little Irish towns. All lighted signs are banned there so all signs are made with carved wood and paint. The building are all beautifully painted and there are pots of flower everywhere....on windows, hanging from the light posts, and all over the sidewalks. On one end of the town is and old Irish restored stone castle with huge green lawns heading out from the courtyard. On the other side of town is an old stone church with a bell tower so high it looked like a smokestack. We were struck by the old stonework of these two buildings. They were done using a grey stone that we have never seen anywhere else. It gives the buildings a very somber old-world look. I've seen so many other castles in other countries, but they usually use some sort of colored stone. These stones were so starkly grey, you just couldn't seem escape the fact that they were from a completely different time. They didn't go at all with any of the "newer" buildings, which were themselves very old and historical.
Although this little town was very cute, I have to say that the very best part of the day was the drive through the Irish countryside. Ireland is known as the emerald isle, and it's no wonder why. It was absolutely magnificently green. Just the emerald green rolling hills spotted with cows, sheep, horses, and farmhouses, took our breath away, and I didn't want the driving to stop. so, we decided to hit the road again the very next day instead of staying another day in Kilkenny.
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