fabrisse

It is impossible to go into the caves at Lascaux -- and that's been true since 1963 -- but they have created substitutes over the years. Lascaux IV is the most comprehensive, and it's brilliant.

We decided to go at noon because that was when we could go at our own pace. There were two English language tours in the morning (and two in the afternoon) where we would have had to stay with the group. By arriving at lunchtime, we could get headsets.

The very first area in the cave replica, it talked about a bull to my left. I saw horses, which were also mentioned, but no bull. Then I took a step back and realized that the bull was huge. It was so big (probably 2.5' by just under 4') that my eye rejected it for the smaller horses.

The whole thing was beautiful. The layout got a little claustrophobic, especially with the cane, but I was so glad that I got to see it in context.

There was a room which allowed us to interact with parts of the exhibits in isolation, showing us incised sections that we may have missed or details that don't stand out when it's so far above you.

Before we left we had a cheese plate and a crepe, then went back to the car.

Now this whole "Fabi can't find reverse" meant that neotoma had been helping me out of spots by pushing the car while I had it in neutral and steered. This didn't work once we hit a barred route on our way back -- no suggested detour sign -- and ended up on driveways. We ended up stuck at one house for about half an hour before we made ourselves heard. The gentleman there backed the car up and gave us a better idea of how to get back to where we needed to be (I'd made a reservation at another hotel well in advance including a dinner reservation at the bistro). He also tried to show me what I needed to do to find reverse, but I misunderstood the directions. Also, bless him, he told me I had a very good accent when speaking French. On a wearying afternoon, the compliment meant everything to me.

Two or three towns later, I missed a turn. This time an old man -- probably my age, but we never really see ourselves as old -- called his son who spoke English. They helped us get out of their driveway and back on the correct road, and this time when I was shown how to get the car into reverse, it clicked.

We had a nice evening in a room at the top of a flight of steep stairs, and the dinner at the bistro was nice. There were also some very well behaved dogs at the bistro.

The following morning, after a good buffet breakfast, the woman at the front desk helped us find our way to the autoroute. She wrote down the name of each town we needed where a shift from country road D2 to country road D734 (or whatever the actual route numbers were) would take place. There must have been 8 names. This was where neotoma and I cheered when we found a country road wide enough that there were lines painted on it. I still wasn't going anywhere near 80 kph.

We found the autoroute -- which was a toll road (we took it and prayed it took credit card) -- and spent most of the rest of the drive doing 130 kph (~80 mph). We made it to Toulouse in time for our train to Narbonne. After that we took the "poor man's TGV" back to Paris. They announced when we were going to our top speed of 320 kph (~199 mph), and the countryside passed by swiftly.

neotoma and I spent 5 May-10 May in France. We also had 11 May in Iceland which neotoma got to see more of than I did. Overall, I think it was a good trip. It was certainly a needed distraction for me from a year which had way too much death in it. neotoma was in a similar boat, so travel seemed like a good thing.

Once I've downloaded my pictures -- I didn't take many -- I'll have a post with them in it. For right now, It's just words.

Our hotel in Paris was clean and conveniently located. We had tickets for a boat tour up the Seine and I invited my friend, Elainasaunt, who lives in Paris to join us. The Paris Metro was as convenient as ever and got us to the Trocadero stop, right by the Eiffel Tower. We were close enough to see the elevator cars do their funicular thing up the leg of the tower where we caught our boat.

After some minor kerfuffle where the boat operators conferred and decided our Expedia purchased tickets were good, we saw Elainasaunt in the distance and got on the boat. We had dressed relatively warmly (I was in a turtleneck that was heavy cotton with about 15% wool content) so chose the top deck. It was a lovely evening, nowhere near sunset and the sights of the city were clear. The music was a little loud, but Elainasaunt kept up a running commentary of what we were seeing. Once I noticed that my fingers were going a bit blue, I asked if we could go in, and the view from the lower deck wasn't as good.

After grabbing our respective metros home, neotoma and I searched for sustenance. There was a little square about a block from the hotel which had several restaurants. Two were very crowded cafes. Two were pizza/pasta joints which just didn't seem right in Paris, and the last one was a small bistro which said they could accommodate us.

neotoma had a pork roulade with mashed potatoes. I had duck confit with roasted potatoes (and the duck was perfect that evening). For dessert, the maitresse (I don't know if she owned the place, but she referred to her chef and her pastry chef, so quite possibly) let us know there was a special of floating island with pistachios. neotoma had never had floating island and it's my favorite dessert. There was only one portion left, but it was more than enough for us to split. It was really delicious.

We also discovered on our walk from the metro that we were pretty close to Notre Dame, so the next day we went. The lines were huge. Too big. The lines for the Sainte Chapelle were also very long. However, there were no lines to speak of for the Memorial des Martyrs de la Deportations. I highly recommend the Wikipedia page which I can't link to because the accent marks mess up the link.

This is part of a small park behind Notre Dame. It honors those, both Jewish and not, who were deported to the work camps in Germany during WWII. It's grey cement with narrow stairways in and out of it. There's one small, barred window low on one wall. Behind is a round room with lists of the camps and quotations, including "Forgive, but never Forget" over the exit door. We went upstairs and explored the two gallery rooms which had pictures, letters, and small mementos of Bergen-Belsen. In all, we spent about an hour there.

We went out to dinner with Elainasaunt again at a small bistrot on the Ile St. Louis, facing the back of Notre Dame. The dinner was very good.

We left Paris early the next morning and went to Toulouse. That saga will be covered tomorrow.