Another glass of port? Why yes!

One of the things we wanted to do while we were in France was to travel around Europe. Heck, we can jump hop on a train and be in a new country in a few hours. Well, we haven't done a very good job at that. Our visions of weekends in Switzerland have mostly turned into the reality of weekends prowling IKEA and other daily drudgery. The French have their own phrase 'la vie quotidien' for the requirements of daily life - which here can easily eat up all of your time. Everything just takes a little longer in France. So, when our friend Helen called up and said her fiance was on a boys' trip and did we want to go to Portugal for the weekend, we said "YES!" Chores can wait.

Neither of us had been to Portugal before, and after a weekend in one city I don't think we can say "Portugal? Oh yeah, been there, done that," but it was still cool to go to another country for the weekend. We're meeting Helen at the hotel and the hotel had already told us to take bus 58. But, where was bus 58? We found the bus stop, but all the busses were numbered 600-606. Then the info booth told us bus 58 is gone, we need to take the new metro.

There are 5 different metro lines - wow, just like Paris or Lyon, but... hold on here! There's only one physical track. Who do they think they are fooling? The different lines just go different distances along the track. There is a metro waiting so we grab our tickets and jump on. We're at the end of the track so it can only go towards our destination. We're getting comfortable when we remembered we better check to see if we need to compost our tickets! France and many other countries use an honor system on public transit, your ticket is good anytime, but you have to timestamp it yourself so you can't use it a second time. If you forget or "forget" to stamp it you can be fined if they catch you. In France there are small boxes labeled "composter" for this. From that label we now call stamping "composting." So, here we are sitting in the metro car when I burst out with "Oh my god! Did you see a composter?" "Oh no, I don't see one." "Quick! I'll check the escalator!" A conversation that makes no sense in any language except our own. Hurry up and compost? What are those wackos talking about?

Dashing down the escalator I spot them at the bottom - composters! (STAMP!) (STAMP!) I dash back up and jump on the metro. Phew! Still the metro doesn't appear in any hurry to depart... And now I notice some other passengers start to look uneasy after seeing my dash. A few jump off to look around. Finally we set off and of course we are not checked. Later I found out bus 58 still exists, it just got renumbered to 602. Argh! OK, if the route doesn't change, the bus should still have the same number! There oughta be a law. I don't care if the other bus numbers are up to 5 digits, bus 58 stays bus 58!

Porto is definitely a tourist town, but the tourists haven't shown up yet. Beautiful weather and no crowds are going to make this a good weekend.



The next day we head to the riverside where cute outdoor cafes abound. And we have them pretty much to ourselves. Monica says she doesn't know who she feels more sorry for - the panhandlers or the cafe owners. The docks and cafes are deserted and sure enough, each cafe has one guy leaning on the doorjam quietly watching us as we check their menu boards. Sorry guys, we can only eat one lunch.



The city itself is beautiful with tiled buildings and cobblestone streets. The people are very nice too with a relaxed attitude. For example, what time does this clock say? I think it's "Just about 6 or 7 o'clock." If I had gotten the camera out quicker I would have gotten exactly six or seven.



The traditional Portuguese fare was quite good, but for dinner we couldn't resist the warmth and smells that night from an older Russian woman's restaurant. She made us feel like we were her kids as she cooked up a big Russo-Portuguese meal and hugged us goodbye like she hated to see us go back out into the uncaring world.

The next day we went port tasting and it was nice to have tiny groups. No rushing and plenty of port to go around. As we walked/weaved along the river afterwards, an enterprising guy apologizing for his lack of English (why do people apologize for their English? We're in their country - WE should be apologizing about our lack of Portuguese!) approached us about taking a scenic boat ride on the river. Why not? Plus Monica and Helen were already charmed and giggling.



It was a nice long ride and we got a chance to see six bridges and nice scenery from a comfy seat while enjoying a fine glass of port. Now this is living!

Too Sexy?

Hi there Everyone!
We are in England hanging out with some friends, and last night we showed them this video. I realized that we love this video so much that we show it to all of our friends, and they all LOVE it. So, I thought it would be fun to share it here too. Hope you enjoy it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_oKaCL-OA8

Owen and Lynne visit

Our good friends Owen and Lynne visited us just after dad and Thea left. At this point we had the apartment sort of working, but still had a broken fridge, dishwasher, and washing machine, and no microwave or dryer. But we have electricity and hot water! That and a bed is all you really need right? This week we got our second set of keys including one to our "cave" ooh! This damp storage area under the building must be 400 years old. Owen thought it could make a good dungeon for uncooperative guests. I also love my gigantic key to the monster double doors of our traboule. These covered passageways are a trademark of Lyon from its silk-making heyday. Our apartment was probably once a silk workshop in the 1700s before the industry moved up the hill in the 1800s, although we really don't know how old the place is. I also love the incongruity of my modern USB keyfob and the ancient heavy doorkey on the same keychain.

Lynne had never been to Europe before and we had a great time soaking in France with a newcomer. But she would not touch the frog's legs! "You can't eat Kermit! That's Kermit!" Well, I think if he was cooked in butter, pepper, and herbs and served piping hot, even Miss Piggy would have a hard time turning away her snout. But we had to respect her resolve. More for the rest of us... Yum! We went to a lot of great places by our new apartment including a crepe place that makes Monica's new weakness - the Texane: a crepe with chile and tabasco among its ingredients. Owen summed up the France food experience by saying that not only did the food taste great, your body felt like it was getting top grade fuel.



For the weekend we rented a car and drove down to Grenoble. This is a cute college town with a large pedestrian zone and fountains. We had to go for a ride in the 'Giant balls' - a string of spherical gondolas up to a nearby peak. But the highlight of this trip in my mind was using Owen's GPS to travel the tiny backroads to visit the Palais Ideal. The countryside was beautiful and we got to top it off by seeing the results of a deranged postman.

I guess since postmen here do not have access to high powered weaponry, they have to express themselves in other ways. This guy used rocks and cement to build a bizarre castle-like structure. Little did the surrounding townsfolk suspect this crazy endeavor would become a tourist attraction and now it has become an official site with attendant gift shops, cafes, bus parking, and maintenance staff. It probably provides half the employment in town. Ah, there is nothing quite so lovely as a cement chandelier! You can see more at this English site http://www.sadtomato.net/cheval/.



We continued our trip back to Lyon by using driving directions from Owen's GPS to 'avoid tolls.' This took us along tiny roads and through little villages and roundabouts. Boy, cheapskates have some long trips, but it was perfect for us since we weren't in a hurry and preferred the scenery immensely over the boring straight shot past the nuclear reactors. It worked amazingly well and we didn't even take a wrong turn once.

Birthday in Paris

About 12 years ago, when I was a brand new bride, my sweet husband wisked me away to Paris to celebrate my birthday. There are songs written about Springtime in Paris, he said. Let's go experience it together. Little did I know that he had made reservations at the Jules Verne Restaurant in the Eifel Tower, 3 months ahead of time, as part of the celebration. That was our first visit to Paris together, and it was the most romantic birthday I had ever had in my life. Through the years, we have often reminisced about that first visit to Paris together.

But Dave hadn't had enough I guess. He sought to recapture that birthday, so many years ago, again this year. Last Saturday night, again he wisked me away to Paris for a weekend away and a big birthday celebration. We started the weekend with a beautiful walk through our old favorite places in Paris. We visited the Eifel Tower, the Champs du Mars, walked along the Seine, visited the large flea market and antiques market, and had dinner at Place St. Michel.



When we started our walk in the morning, we had no intention of taking any pictures. We had been to Paris so many times, surely we had plenty of pictures. But we realized that we hadn't been to Paris since we had digital cameras, so we didn't actually have any digital pictures of Paris. Wow! Had it been that long since we'd been here?

We'd stopped in Paris for an evening on our way to Africa a couple of years ago and hopped into Place St. Michel for some dinner. But we hadn't had the time to see much. And we'd done a bike ride through the Loire Valley a year before that, but that trip had included a stay in Tours, but we hadn't visited Paris. Hmmmmmmmm......so how long had it been. It turns out, we probably hadn't visited Paris for about 7 years. 7 years!!!! Wow how time flies. Anyways, so we took lots of pictures.



Paris was truly fascinating this visit. First, now that we are living in France and are much more comfortable with the language, Paris is much more familiar to us. Not quite as "exotic." And it has changed so much. We were absolutely amazed at how much English we heard everywhere. It was so rare to hear French conversations going on. That made sense in the tourist areas, but we did visit areas less trafficked by tourists, and even there we heard a lot of English. Also, I was a bit shocked at how sloppy everyone looked. In Lyon, everyday, everywhere you look, people are dressed up and look terrific. That's what I've always expected in France. But the Parisiens seem to have gotten a bit more "comfortable" than the Lyonaise, so it was hard to find someone looking "French." Both Dave and I were surprised by that. Dave even said something, without me asking him, and he never says stuff like that. But it used to be so fun to watch all the dapper looking people walking by as we sat at a cafe sipping our coffee. So we felt a bit cheated as people slouched by, looking sloppy, and speaking English with heavy French accents...but still smoking, of course. Hmmmm....people watching in Paris is a completely different thing now than it used to be.

But, on the other hand, everyone was much more kind than they used to be. We have always enjoyed the French people. As long as you are respectful to them, they are very kind. But this time, they were even kinder than they have ever been to us before. People smiled as we walked by, and not a single person was unhelpful or too busy to answer a question we may have. Again, another surprise. Wow! This trip has been full of surprises! Oh we love Paris!

The next day we visited Musee Pompidou, which I had visited in 1989, and Dave had visited in 1990. The building is really fascinating with it's inside out architecture, and huge wide open rooms. We began our visit with a stop at the current temporary exhibit, the videodanse area where, to our surprise, they were showing a full length old french film. It was a musical about a small town in France, where everyone is dancing and singing in the streets and all people live for is...of course...l'amour. There were hysterical songs about "I just painted my perfect woman. I don't know if she is chaste or fast and free, but she is the woman for me." Hmmmmm..........do you wonder about the priorities of the 50's :) The dancing was fabulously fun, and the songs cracked us up. It was a lovely way to spend an afternoon, as it rained outside. What an unexpected treat.

We then took a walk through the museum. In 1987 the Pompidou was my very first exposure to contemporary art, and I have to admit I absolutely hated it. It was too wierd and I couldn't relate to it at all. This time...well....I know I'm supposed to say something educated about it, but all I can say is, it hasn't really grown on me. Most of the stuff was just too strange for my blood. But this time, I did actually find some art I absolutely loved. There were several Matisses and Picasos that were beautiful. And many sculptures and displays that captivated me. So, although I can't say that I loved the Pompidou, this time I actually found plenty that I liked.

The next day was my birthday. It was a sunny gorgeous day, like Paris itself was giving me a birthday present. We slept in late and ambled to a local cafe for breakfast. Then we headed to the Musee Rodin. Ever since seeing the Rodin Garden at Stanford, I have wanted to visit this museum in Paris. But, we'd never had enough time before. It was beautiful. The museum was in a gorgeous old house with beautiful gardens outside. Most of the artwork was inside, but there were several pieces, like "The Thinker" and "The Gates of Hell" in the gardens, surrounded by blooming roses and views of gorgeous old French buildings behind them. Actually, here is a picture of "The Gates of Hell." Doesn't it look like it is leading you out to the city?




After our afternoon with Rodin, we relaxed at home for an hour and then headed out for dinner. And guess what Dave had done? He had called the Jules Verne restauarant again, but this time 6 months in advance so that we would get a window seat! OMG!!!! What a lovely evening it was. The food was dilectable, and the view from the restaurant was gorgeous. We watched the dinner cruises float down the Seine, and saw the sunset over the city. Also, it was pretty fun to watch all the flashes in the distance, as people took pictures of the Eifel Tower from afar. It was like a little light show. Another unexpected treat. The restaurant was very different this time too. The food was still fabulous, but the atmosphere was very different. First, of course, all the waitstaff spoke English, and very well too. We actually spoke to them in French most of the evening, because we wanted it to feel like a French meal, but us and two other French couples in the room seemed to be the only ones speaking French. Can you guess what was being spoken most the last time we were there? It wasn't French. It was actually Japanese. The last time we were there, the restaurant was filled with Japanese businessmen on the company tab. This time it was filled with lovers and tourists....much more romantic :) There was even a man who proposed to his girlfriend there. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh...............l'amour..................




When we left dinner, the blinking lights show on the Eiffel Tower was going on, so we ran out to the Champs du Mars and watched the tower glitter in the night. What a beautiful way to end the evening. Then, feeling completely content and satisfied, we stolled home in the gentle breeze and we said good-night to Paris.

French Pervs and Renaissance Faires

Have you ever had something happen that made you wonder "what the heck just happened there?" Last Saturday was the annual Rennaisance Festival in "Old Lyon." It was wonderful to see all the gorgeous costumes, and everyone was speaking French, a European language, so it all seemed a bit more authentic than the ones we have at home. Okay, maybe not more "authentic" but at least more "exotic." There was music in the streets, food stands, a King and Queen holding court, and bands parading about town as locals and tourists alike sat at outdoor restaurants enjoying the good food, the better wine, the gorgeous sun, and the goings on. It really was a lovely day. We felt like we had been transfered to a different world as we ate lunch on our little benchs and table on a cobble stone-street and an "old Scottish couple" ambled by having a very loud marital quarrel, with on-lookers (following close behind gathering juicy tidbits for the next morning's gossip at the wash bins) muttering and cheering as the old man or woman each dealt some pretty impressive verbal blows.



After our lunchtime entertainment, we walked the streets licking gelato off of cones and our fingers, and shopped a bit in boutiques all sporting their medieval wares. I was almost inspired to finally buy myself a medieval costume for future events, but decide not too, again.



As we headed home, Dave discovered the "game court" where jesters and bar men hosted old-fashioned games on wooden board with stone and metal pieces. Cool, Dave exclaimed. A kid could actually get hurt with these pieces! He couldn't resist watching the games and joining in the cheering as young children struggled to win little gold pieces for their toil. About a half hour in, I realized I had completely lost Dave for the afternoon, so I decide to sit on a bench and read a book I had handily carried with me in my purse. I put on my big straw hat to protect me from the sun and headed to a bench near the "bowling" sandbox. On the way, I passed a group of older Frenchmen all dressed in their Renaissance finery, and smiled at their fabulous costumes. However, I realized that was a mistake immediately as one of the men stared and grinned back. Oops!! I blew it again! I REALLY REALLY need to learn to not smile at Frenchmen!

To try to recover, I sat on the bench, and stared straight down at my book, so that all anyone could see on that bench was basically a big straw hat and blue jean. Okay, I felt safe now. But within minutes some man was lifting my hat and fire hosing me with French exclamations. He wasn't drunk, but he had an accent so I couldn't understand a word he was saying. But he was very animatedly exclaiming something. As I sat there baffled, I thought this couldn’t be happening. Old men are supposed to be safe. What are they doing?! One of the costumed men sat very close to me, put his arm around me and had a friend take a picture. This was my "what the heck just happened there" moment. How many times do you go to a fair NOT dressed in costume and have people who ARE in costume want to take a picture with YOU? Isn't that backwards? But now all the men were getting into it. They sat around me laughing and talking and taking tons of pictures with this woman in a blue t-shirt and jeans. What the hell?!!!! Are these guys crazy?

Finally, one of the men put his arm out gallantly and asked if he could show me around the fair. I pointed at Dave and told them my husband would show me around. As soon as they realized I had a husband, they sobered up. "Au revoir Madame!" they exclaimed, now on their most formal behavior. "Bon Journee!" And they slipped out into the crowd. What the hell?! Now that I have a husband they are more respectful? They couldn't have been that way before? Didn't they notice the huge fake ring on my finger? FRENCHMEN!!!! No matter what age they are, they are all just PERVS!

Our new new place

We still had not found a good apartment and were beginning to get discouraged. We had seen some very nice places but they were not going to be empty for another month or so. After one experience where the owner changed her mind and decided not to move out, I was not going to risk somebody backing out again and us losing a couple of months. Then, on Thursday morning of the week we had pledged we were going to make a decision or *else*, we made a mistake and visited a place with an agent. I called the agent and asked if we had to pay before we saw the place? No, we only pay if we choose it. Oh well, it can't hurt to look, right? The place turned out to be gorgeous, right in the heart of a great downtown neighboorhood. It reminded me of Versailles with very high ceilings, heavy woodwork, parquet floors, and the eerie feeling that all the furniture had been stolen. It was also double the size of our current place and at $1400 a month we'd save $600 each month. The downsides were the agent fee of $1500, the owners lived in Italy, and it needed a little work and a little furnishing. So, despite the fee we basically told the agent we wanted it and would decide for sure by the weekend.



The next day we looked at a place I had earlier scratched because it was 4'th floor/no elevator. However it appeared to be in a great location, so Monica asked that I put it back on the list. So, one final place to look at and we're done. It turned out to be in an even better location than yesterday's place! It was also only $800 a month and no fee. That would leave more money for travelling... The owners spoke English and were really helpful and local. It even had a great (but tiny) layout. Basically, it was perfect except for the stairs. Now we were in the reverse position - we couldn't decide between two great places! We spent the weekend saying "I wish we hadn't seen that one place. Then the choice would be easy."



In the end, we decided on the Versailles place (as you might have guessed from the pictures). Laurent from work helped us drive all our stuff over. My dad and stepmom arrived the next night and they actually saw both places since we spent the last night at the old place (with a sofabed) and then Eloise at work loaned us a mattress for the new place. It was really nice having French-speaking T+T with us since they could help Monica during the day with the apartment boot sequence. Fortunately, the Lyonnaise are very nice and although everything gets messed up, they expect that (perhaps it's an integral part of the massive social employment system and the fact the nobody can ever be fired) and cheerfully fix the mistakes others made. Generally we figure everything takes two tries and one level of escalation on average. But to our surprise, our 3-in-1 internet/TV/phone installation which we dreaded was going to be torture turned out fine on the first try! The good-looking young guy sent over to drill and string cable never stopped bouncing up and down and had the thickest country accent ever. It was like trying to understand a heavy Irish accent. Thea's French is the best so he ended up talking to her the most. She struggled, but she was grinning from ear to ear the whole time - he was just so cute.



It's interesting seeing how these old places keep up. There are fireplaces in every room for heat originally I guess. These have been superceded by "modern" radiators and pipes which run along the baseboards, sometimes looping up to the ceiling to get around a door. Our cable guy ran the wiring outside the walls. Well, I guess for reliability it is better to be either really new and have everything in the walls done right or really old and have everything outside the walls where you can service it. Speaking of wiring. I don't know how many times I have passed this statue before I caught it spewing mist from the horse's nostrils on the hour! The statue looks super old (and it is humongous), but that has to be a modern addition!