fabrisse | Entries tagged with travel

On our drive from Toulouse to our first hotel, bunny rabbits came running out of a field to our right. There were more than 20. I came to a full stop and just let them keep running to their hutch to our left. It was amazing, and I'm so grateful that I didn't hit one.

neotoma being so patient pushing the car out of parking spaces. Bless.

Every single meal, but especially the confit de canard and iles flottant of our first night.

It's not my favorite Paris land mark, but seeing the Eiffel Tower so closely was amazing.

The feeling of relief I felt when I realized Notre Dame would be fine.

Having hazelnut/chocolate ice cream from Berthillon.

Get complimented on my French.

Getting to use my little bit of Dutch, briefly.

Now, I know I haven't written much about Iceland -- which was starkly beautiful -- but that's because I managed to slip in the bathtub and sprain my ankle badly enough that I couldn't walk around Reykjavik with

neotoma. The bruise on the opposite inner thigh is just now fading.

I do want to go back to Reykjavik at some point. It was stunning.

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 got up early on the Wednesday, found a way to extract our tickets from the kiosks and went from Paris Montparnasse to Toulouse Matabiau. Once there we picked up our very small car.

It took a few minutes for me to realize that I kept putting the car into third gear rather than first, but after the first hour, the fact that it had been 30+ years since I'd driven stick shift wasn't a huge problem. However, I will say that if I see one more traffic circle, I may burst into tears.

Getting out of Toulouse was one traffic circle after another. Then we hit the country roads. First of all, I would like to say that the Dordogne is every bit as beautiful as everyone says. We had glorious sunny weather as we hit the lovely vistas of plowed and planted fields with hills, forest, and poplar wind breaks everywhere we looked.

On the other hand,

neotoma learned that I will swear at the car if it's not cooperating (see the 3rd gear vs 1st gear issue), and we both learned that the Dordogne has more hills and curves than the average roller coaster. The posted speed limit for most of it -- unless we were actually going through one of the beautiful 16th or 17th century towns -- was 80 kph (~50 mph). There was no way that I could handle any car at that speed on narrow roads with no shoulders and more curves than Marilyn Monroe. At one point on our second or third day of driving, we actually cheered because we'd finally found a road wide enough to have lane markings.

We found a decent hotel for Wednesday evening, but had some upset because the GPS on neotoma's phone still said we were 2 hours away from Lascaux. It had told us we were 2.5 hours from Lascaux when we first got in the car and we'd been driving for three hours.

The hoteliers told us we were only about 30 minutes away, which proved reasonably accurate when we left the next day. It was a great relief.

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.

After being released from the emergency room, I found a hotel for the night. I slept late -- checked out on time, but I was glad I found a hotel with noon checkout rather than 11 a.m. -- and then drove for 40 minutes to a Jewish Deli just outside of Charlotte.

[n.b., Savannah, GA hosts the oldest continuous Jewish congregation in the U.S., Mickve Israel, but doesn't have a single real Deli. I've been craving Matzoh ball soup for months. Finding out that there was a decent deli in Charlotte meant the world. For the record, there is an older synagogue in Rhode Island, but they fizzled out and reconstituted rather than existing continuously.]

They had Cel-Ray soda. The turkey reuben was made with a turkey pastrami. There was good old-fashioned cucumber salad to go with it. I got two quarts of Matzoh ball soup to go. They had sturgeon by the pound. Next time, I'm getting sturgeon. Or kippered salmon.

I was later than I'd hoped getting home, mostly because my GPS told me to keep left when I needed a right lane exit at the Talmadge bridge in Savannah, but it was otherwise uneventful. I took a break at the two hour mark. It was pretty good.

Today has mostly been spent in bed. I know I should exercise. I know I should write or open boxes or do anything, but I mostly slept. I had a little phone argument with Sis. She doesn't want to put in solar power because she felt it didn't do anything for them in CA. I pointed out that Dad would have gotten the tax credit; this time she will. I also pointed out that they were never without power in CA. We've already had 9 days sans electricity and with hurricane season and tornados on the rise, I think this is necessary. I'm also worried about what tariffs with Canada will do to the oil supply. Keep fingers crossed on this.

It's been rough emotionally for the past year. Mom died on a Saturday, but it was just before 29 February, so everything is offset by two days instead of just one.

Last year, on February 15, the Thursday before her death, a dear friend of hers, the only one who could come and whom Mom wanted to see, came to visit. She and her SO went in and talked with Mom in the morning and let me have a long walk that I desperately needed. They came back in the afternoon, but Mom was non-verbal. Still understanding what was going on. They asked about her time as a stewardess and she squeezed their hand when United was mentioned. They'd brought us a lovely coffee cake, too.

This year, on Thursday, the four of us are going out to dinner at a restaurant Mom liked. It's not exactly a year, but it feels like it because it's the Thursday again. They've been to visit family in Florida. On the way down, they stopped at Beaufort National Cemetery and found Mom and Dad's grave. We're a stop on the way back.

I got to Atlanta Airport from California around 2 pm on Tuesday only to find that the Savannah Airport was closed. The airline put me up in a hotel where there were two vending machines for food, the hallway reeked of marijuana, and the curtains had cigarette burns. I lost my phone on the way to the hotel.

I went back to get my flight on Wednesday, spent over an hour in the TSA line (a rarity for wheelchairs), and then had three different flights cancelled on me. I spent a large amount of money to sleep in one of the Minute Suites locations for 10 hours, and then had three more flights cancelled on Thursday. I told them to refund the final leg of my trip and begged Sis to get me a respectable hotel for two nights and pick me up in Atlanta by car today.

In the event, Savannah airport reopened late yesterday, so Sis -- who had found me two nights at a respectable hotel with an actual, if very limited, restaurant -- called and told me to rebook my flight to Savannah. I did and got back around 2 pm. My checked bag had already arrived.

The dogs were very happy to see me.

I'm going to find clean clothes to put on.

Update on sick cousin: It's generally agreed that he's dying. Miracles may yet happen, but the family generally seems resigned to the fact that he won't be with us much longer. Schizophrenia, PTSD, and cigarette addiction are not to be trifled with.

It's my first time in Turkey. We toured the archeological site of Ephesus which is both beautiful and impressive. However, the Romans, bless their little cotton socks, laid out a road through the city of smooth marble.

The day was dry, or I would have been on my butt multiple times. Sis helped a great deal, and so did the site photographer. I learned early on to turn my cane around when going down hill. I looked for rough stones to help my footing and broken ones to secure my cane tip. It was still difficult. The distance was probably half to three quarters of a mile, but it felt twice as long because I had to measure every step.

The most expensive tour we booked was a classical concert at the ruins. I looked at the slick marble stairs and went, "no." We cancelled too late for a refund. I'm hoping that they'll give me something back because they didn't mention smooth marble steps in their warnings for the disabled. The distance, even the steps, are fine. Marble that even the able-bodied fell on is not.

I can hear the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer.

Query for biblical scholars: how did the evangelists get their symbols? I know the man, lion, bull, and eagle faces come from Isaiah. I think they're repeated in Revelation, but how did Matthew (man), Mark (lion), John (eagle), and Luke (bull) get their assignments? I ask because our tour guide mentioned that Luke had visited Ephesus, and I saw bull capitals frequently. But John, supposedly, was here, too, and he got the eagle. Anyone have a clue?

ETA: Someone on another of the ship's tours, fell so hard on the marble pathway that he had to be rushed back to the ship's doctor -- after they found him a wheelchair.

I didn't sleep on the plane, so I napped yesterday afternoon. Sis and I had dinner in the rooftop restaurant which had a great view of the Parthenon. We watched the Olympics for the rest of the evening.

Today, we went to find the hop-on hop-off bus. We found the Museum of the Parthenon first. We spent nearly two hours there (brief break for a snack in the restaurant) and decided that climbing up the Acropolis was not going to happen in 90F heat. It helpef that we'd done it when we were here 40 years ago.

We found the bus and did a turn around the city. Athens isn't picturesque in the way that Rome or Barcelona is. We'd been to the archeological museum on that previous trip, so we might or might not try to do it tomorrow, if we get up early enough.

I just about feel acclimated.

Sis and I leave for Greece on Monday. Addresses to either one of my real emails or dreamwidth messages will be answered with a postcard from one of our stops.

It was going to cost me over $1000 to stay at the little barrier island we love on the Georgia coast for three nights. It's high season. The couple of times we've been before we've paid around $150 per night for a room, they're currently over $300.

I looked at a couple of destinations in the U.S. to see if there were cheap options, Denver, Boston, and Chicago were all looking pretty damned expensive and Montreal was no better.

All of this is to say that I will be spending five days in Copenhagen while Sis is taking care of the move. It was actually cheaper to get a plane and hotel package through Expedia to Denmark than to Chicago or Denver and it was about the same as 3 nights in Boston with plane fare.

I didn't expect to be dancing with jetlag like this, but I love Copenhagen. I can read the signs even though I don't speak the language. After making the decision and paying for everything, I discovered that I will be there during the cooking festival.

This is weirdly wonderful.

The plane took off about a half hour late, but otherwise went smoothly. My knee swelled badly and the pain prevented sleep, so I ended up napping for a good part of the afternoon.

Dinner was the smaller of two tasting menus at the hotel's restaurant. They were very kind and substituted a shrimp ravioli for the pork course for me. Each of the 11 courses -- none more than a few bites -- was excellent, but the high point for me was a crayfish salad that was more of a cold soup. The flavor was perfect and the texture melting. The fried mushroom top with cheese and a different mushroom on inside was the most deconstructed course. There was a shot of cold mushroom consomme in a test tube as a chaser. It was refreshing and a bit surprising.

Our hotel is art nouveau and really well thought out. It's Hotel Espanya Ramblas on Correr Sain Pau if you're interested enough to look it up.

My mother gave me a cruise for my 60th birthday. Thanks to Covid, I'm finally going in June about a month after my 61st.

I wanted to do an Athens to Petra cruise with stops in Israel and Egypt. Sis, who's joining me, said there was too much terrorism there. So, I picked a midsummer tour that included St. Petersburg. Russia invaded Ukraine which made that a no go.

Instead we're doing a Barcelona to Barcelona cruise. I've paid for three nights in Barcelona before the cruise and the cruise includes stops in Valencia, Cartagena, Malaga, Cadiz, Tangiers, Gibralter, Mallorca, and Menorca. Since we transferred less than 180 days out, I'm waitlisted for a day trip that I really wanted: The Alhambra. Keep your fingers crossed that I can join that one.

If you would like a post card, please send me your address. If there's a specific city you'd like it from, let me know and I'll do my best to accommodate. All comments are screened, so you can leave your address there.