Butchie Boy

The other day I was chatting with our friend Jenny Wertz. She said she heard a sound outside her house a little earlier and when she went out to see what it was, she spied an owl on their TV antenna. When the owl noticed that it had been seen, it flew away making a screeching sound as it did so. The screech made Jenny assume it was a Screech Owl.

As we talked, we were looking up screech owls on the internet. She found an interesting website about owls:

http://www.owlpages.com/sounds.php

It turns out that from the calls you can listen to on this page, the great horned owl was a more likely ID. Coupled with her observation that the owl had a large wing span when it took off adds further proof.

As she was following the leads on her computer, I was looking up images on mine. I came across this picture of 3 baby screech owls that sent me on a trip down memory lane.

When I was quite small, maybe 7 or 8 we lived at 3117 Merle Hay Road in Des Moines, Iowa. This would probably be about 1955 or 56.

One day my mom shooshed me and had me follow her to the front window where the curtains had been drawn. She carefully pulled back the curtain and there, not 18″ away from me where 3 screech owl babies. I remember them looking just like the 3 little cuties you see above. In the picture of our house I’ve circled where they were. You can make out the bushes which must have grown some by the time the owls appeared.

I talked with Mom about it, but the little guys must not have made the same impression on her as they did a 7 year old.

When we returned from our trip to Paris, I called my friend Ernie Rairdin to see if he was interested in helping me complete our DSEC (Digital Stereo Exchange Club) photo exchange that I hadn’t finished up before we left. He didn’t answer but he called the next day when I was at the craft store looking for some albums to put our vacation pictures in.

He wanted to stop by and show me something he got at the annual convention of 3D fans that he had just returned from. I said I wasn’t home so he suggested I stop at his house which is more or less on the way home.

When I got there we talked a little bit about our trip then he said that when he was at the convention awards banquet, the speaker started reading from a plaque. He said, “NSA (National Stereoscopic Association) 2009 Lou Smaus Award, Best Stereo World Article on Modern Stereoscopy – Robert Thorpe – `The Cedar Rapids Flood of 2008′, Stereo World Vol 34, Number 1”

I was floored. I had not had any indication of this whatsoever. Ernie said the speaker said that I couldn’t be there, so Ernie volunteered to accept the award for me. Thank you Ernie.

When I wrote the article, it was only a few days after the flood. I had called the editor of the magazine and he said he would hold the presses for the next issue for the late breaking pictures. I dashed off the article and sent him a dozen or so pictures I took during the flood. I also got Ernie to let me send another dozen or so pictures that he took. His were aerial views in hyper stereo and were just astonishing.

They didn’t just print a page of pictures, they published the whole article with a selection of both our photos. One of Ernie’s got the cover of the magazine.

I feel a little sheepish getting the award. I think all too often the contributors of visual content get shortchanged to the benefit of the writers. This can especially be the case in photo or art magazines. I consider Ernie’s contribution to be equal to my own in this situation and I want to make sure he is given the credit he is due.

July 12, 2009

After yesterday we slept in till 7:00! We had breakfast at the hotel then took Rouen’s Metro down into the old part of the city. It is more like a tram but it does go underground by the time it reaches the train terminal that we departed from. The oldest, historic part of Rouen has a central street running through it that they have closed off to motor traffic.

This street, the Rue du Gros Horlage, is named for a gigantic medieval clock. It has clock faces on both sides of the building that spans the road. On one side there is some construction going on on the adjacent building which spoils the effect somewhat. But the other side looks just fine.

One of the first buildings we saw was the Palace of Justice which was riddled with bullet holes. From their size I assume it happened during World War II but it could just as easily have been done in World War I.

The streets in this area are very narrow, almost alleys. There were many very old half timber buildings and it was quite picturesque. It was a gray misty day and there weren’t many people about.

We continued walking to the cathedral and we went inside. Sunday Mass was going on. We looked around briefly and then went back outside so as not to disturb anyone. The tourist information center was across the street and we went over to see that. The lady said the shops would not be opening today because it was Sunday but there was a market a few blocks away. We walked in that direction but it seemed to be farther than we anticipated. On the way we found a faiance pottery shop and Karen bought a picture for her collection for €50.

We took the Metro back to the hotel to make sure that we would be there when everyone arrived. As we walked in, Karen noticed a parking place right in front and said wouldn’t it be great if it was still there when Susan & Co. arrived. We went up to our room and Karen looked out the window just in time to notice Susan, Pat, Auntie Edith, and Auntie Joan just pulling into the spot. Karen yoohooed out the window and we went down to the lobby for a chat.

The restaurant at the hotel served lunch so we decided to eat there. We were seated for lunch by 12:30 and stayed talking until about 3:15. The lunch was very nice, the best meal we had in France. Most of us had the plat du jour which consisted of an appetizer of cheese and herbs on puff pastry, the main course which was salmon mousse with scallops in St. Jacques sauce, rice and vegetables. Just delicious! For dessert Karen had a chocolate mousse cake with sauce d’Anglais and I had the crème brûlée. After our long lunch we went outside to get pictures of everyone.

The relatives departed for England and Karen and I went across the street to catch our 4:00 train to Paris.

One of the things that had been stolen with our luggage were our electronic tickets to catch the train. We told the Ticketmaster that but he said we had to buy new tickets anyway. We had got the original ones on sale for €30 for us both but now the new ones cost €41. We took a regular train into Paris because we had been on the bullet train once already and it would give us a different experience. It was a half hour shorter trip on the regular train than on the bullet train anyway. We arrived at St. Lazare and took the Metro into Chatelet, one of our old stomping grounds. We got a ticket on the RER for Sevran, one of the last stops before Charles de Gaulle airport. We told the ticket taker that’s what we wanted to do and she issued us a ticket. But it turns out it was a nonstop one all the way to the airport. We watched our stop go by and a few minutes later we were at the terminal. As long as we were there we decided that we would see what my chances for getting on the flight were.

The people at Delta said they did not know what to tell me. They knew they couldn’t issue me a boarding pass, and that I would either have to be let on by the head of their security company or by the Delta Airlines station manager. They suggested that I return first thing in the morning to see what could be done.

We went back to the train station in the terminal and took the train to Sevran. Our hotel was a few blocks north of the train station there. We noticed that we were in an ethnic neighborhood and that things were somewhat rundown. Lots of graffiti and loiterers and that type of thing. After just having all our luggage stolen we weren’t all that comfortable, but nothing untoward occurred and we were treated to the wonderful aroma of a picnic featuring some sort of roasted meat that was going on in the park that we passed on our way.

We stayed in another Etap Hotel, similar to the one we stayed in at Honfleur. Both were economy hotels, but were fairly new and clean. Both had that strange configuration of a bunk bed over the queen size bed. We were able to shower and otherwise clean up in our hotel rooms every day, but we had no deodorant which was taking its toll on our clothes as time went on. Karen decided to wash out my shirt and hang it by the open window to dry overnight. I could just see it blowing out the window and me having to go to the airport bare chested. I got a little clip that I had and threaded it through the buttonholes of the shirt to make sure it wouldn’t fly away. Luckily it was dry in the morning.

July 13, 2009

We set the alarm for 5:00 and were on the train by 6:00. At the Delta desk they said that the station manager was not there and that I needed to talk to their security company. Who in turn said they could not issue me a boarding pass either and that I would have to go into Paris and get a “transportation letter”. Piece of cake. Right, I thought! I asked the head of security, a man named Susu if there was some way I could contact him to get a message to Karen if things didn’t work out. He gave me his direct cell phone number. The man at the Delta desk did say that once I came back with my documentation to talk to him and he would see to it that my ticket got changed if I missed the flight.

I went over to Karen who was waiting patiently nearby and told her the situation. We had already decided that since she still had her passport and could make the flight, that she should go on home alone if I didn’t get back in time, no matter what. I gave her a big hug and some kisses, turned, and headed back for Paris once again.

Our vacation accounts take two different directions from this point on…

Karen’s account:

I hated to have him go back to Paris. I wanted him to come home with me! I bought a small breakfast and most important, some coffee, and settled down to wait. I decided to stay near the check-in point in case he was back in an hour or two. But finally, reality hit and I knew that I should join the long lines of people heading to the international terminal.

I checked in and got a bit of grief because our tickets were issued together. The woman at check-in kept telling me that I couldn’t check Butch in unless he was there. I kept trying to explain that I just needed to check-in myself and hopefully Butch would be along later. Finally, she got it and let me go through and I went to my gate. I positioned myself so that I could see down the terminal in the direction that Butch would be coming from. There seemed to be some security problem with checking passports and boarding was delayed 30 minutes. I hoped it would be enough and that he might make it back in time. Just as I got in line to board I got a message saying Butch was delayed at the embassy and would not go on the flight with me. I had no idea if he got this transportation permit they told us about, if he had to get a new passport, or what had happened. I also was not sure they would transfer his ticket now that he had missed the flight.

The flight was OK. I sat next to a young French man who didn’t speak much English. I had gotten a bad case of the sniffles on top of all of our other troubles and this kid tried to lean as far away from me as he could as I sneezed and blew my nose throughout the flight. I’m sure he was worried about catching the flu. I’m afraid he was doomed even though I didn’t have anything serious.

I arrived at 3:30 – Cincinnati time. I cleared customs just fine. It would be hard to have a problem because I didn’t own anything! Getting into the US was a very different thing than arriving in France, however – much higher levels of security. They figure you must have assembled a bomb while on board because you have to have all baggage screened and take off your shoes and everything as you go through security again to get into the terminal. I called Paddy from my gate in hopes that she had some information about Butch, but she hadn’t heard anything. I now had to settle down for another 3 1/2 hour wait for my flight to Cedar Rapids.

Paddy and Lisa picked me up at 9:30 Iowa time and took me home. I was very glad to get out of the clothes I had been wearing for 3 days and get into my own bed. I fell asleep wondering how Butch was getting along.

The next morning, I called our travel agent to find out about our travel insurance. I told her about our theft and how Butch was not able to come home with me. By that time, I had looked up all of the Delta flights leaving Charles De Gaulle that day. There were 4 possibilities. Laura, our agent said she could find out if he was booked on any of them. She found him! He was booked out on the 9:30am flight and would be traveling through Atlanta and arriving in Cedar Rapids at 9:30 that night. I finally felt like I could breathe easier.

Butch’s account:

As I walked out of the terminal back to the train station, I did so with a heavy heart. I just knew that things would not go right at the embassy and that I would not make the flight. I found my train. Charles de Gaulle Terminal 2 is a terminus so the train waits until the scheduled departure time. That was a few minutes away so I sat down in one of the cars to wait for it to depart.

As I was sitting there a fellow sticks his head in the door and says, “Parle vous… English… do you understand any of this?”
“Yes,” I responded, “what can I do to help?”
He said that he had just arrived and that he had to take the train to the Gare du Nord, transfer to the Gare St. Lazare, then take another train to his destination where he was going to meet some friends. He was going to help them celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary. I started grinning from ear to ear and pulled out one of my only remaining possessions. It was the booklet I had put together that had all our flight numbers, hotel reservations, sites to see, French phrases, and photocopies of all our documents. But the important part is that the cover said, “40th Anniversary Adventure – Robert and Karen Thorpe”.

While we were chatting he said that he lived in Ireland but that he was originally from the USA. I asked him where he was from originally and he said Keokuk, Iowa. I said he must be kidding, I was from Cedar Rapids. No way, he said he grew up in Cedar Rapids and did I know Al Louvar. I said yes of course, he was in my class and we wrestled together in ninth grade. I told him I lived on Bever Circle and he said, oh yes, just behind the mansion. Small world, huh?

You have to think, what a coincidence. Personally, I don’t think they are coincidences at all. I don’t know what it is, karma, telepathy, or some association in a past life, but this kind of thing happens to me all the time. Way too often to be coincidence.

We exchanged e-mail addresses and I pointed him on his way when we got to the Gare du Nord. I continued on into town and took the Metro to the Place de Concorde. The US Embassy was in the neighborhood and after poking around for a few minutes I found it. As you can imagine it is very heavily guarded. I gave them my penknife and they gave me a number to pick it up with when I left. I told them I needed an emergency passport and they ushered me right in. There was a man who was giving out numbers. I told them that I thought I needed a “transportation letter” or replacement passport and that I had at 12:10 flight. He said if I went for the letter he guaranteed me I would miss the flight for sure, and if I went for the passport I might or might not make the flight. It sounded like the passport was the thing for me. I sat down in the waiting room and twiddled my thumbs till my number came up.

When it was my turn I went to the window and we went over what had happened and they looked at all my documentation, took my completed form and my two pictures which I had had shot in the lobby and they said, “Take a seat and we’ll call you in a little while.” As I was sitting there people came and went and I was chatting with a guy who was getting a “transportation letter” and said that he had to pay $160 for it. I’m glad I went with the passport which was only $100. He also said I needed to tell the airlines I was not going to make my flight or they would not exchange my ticket. Great! The payphone in the embassy only worked with credit cards and would not accept either of mine. Incommunicado! Their estimate of how long it would take to get the new passport meant that I wouldn’t get it until an hour or so after my flight took off. But I was pleasantly surprised, they had completed all their work with a half hour left to go. Unfortunately, there is no way you can get from central Paris to Charles de Gaulle airport in a half hour’s time.

I mentioned to the fellow at the passport window that I needed to get in contact with my wife and let her know that I was not going to be able to make the flight. I told him I had tried the pay phone and that it did not work with my credit cards and I wondered if there was some way that I could make a call to let Karen know what was going on. I had to get a special dispensation from someone to make an outside call. Anyway, they allowed it and I called the only number I had, Susu’s personal cell phone. He answered and I explained who I was. I asked him to tell Karen that I had my passport and that I would not be able to make the flight. I also asked him to tell the people at Delta that I would not be make in the flight, so that my ticket wouldn’t be canceled.

One added bonus to buying the emergency passport was that if you sent it in within three months after it was issued, you could have a converted to a full 10 year passport for free. Since my passport only had about a year and a half to go before it expired, the hundred dollars would be almost no additional expense whatsoever.

I bought a one-day Metro pass and went back to the old neighborhood by our first hotel because I knew a brasserie nearby had free Internet access. I went there and had lunch and logged on with my iPod. I knew I had to try and e-mail some messages out to let people know what was going on. There was some problem and none of those messages went out till I got home and I had turned the iPod on once again. I went back to the phone store where I had bought my SIM chip and asked them if they could charge my iPod up a little bit, which they did, but eventually the iPod ran out of juice and from then on I had no way to recharge it.

I really didn’t have any reason to stay in Paris any longer so I got back on the train and rode it out to Charles de Gaulle once more. I went to the Delta desk and told them everything that had gone on and could they change my ticket for me. The woman I talked to was very nice but said that I had missed my flight and I would have to buy a new ticket. Oh no! She looked to see if I could get on the next flight, or any other flight, and things were just not looking very good. I said I would be happy to go to Atlanta or Chicago or any place like that as long as I could get home. I said I had done everything in my power to make sure they knew I was not making my flight. I said that the man at the counter in the morning had told me he would switch the ticket. I told her that I had called Susu and he was supposed to have let them know. Wasn’t there something that they could do? She kept clicking away at the keyboard and said she could get me on a flight to Atlanta the next day but that I would have a seven or eight hour layover before I could get to Cedar Rapids. I told her I was going to have a six-hour layover anyway when I got to Cincinnati. So she said this would be no big deal for me, would it? I had my ticket!

Still, I had no way of letting anybody know what was going on. I went to an information booth and asked them about hotels at the airport. I knew they would be expensive but when you balance that against two train fares, one into Paris and one back, I figured that that would make up the difference of any hotel room that I would have to get. I said economy was a factor but the most important thing was that I could get to my flight on time. The fellow recommended a hotel that was right next to the terminal and because occupancy was low that day they had a “€10 off” special going on. I stopped at a Relay store, kind of an in-terminal 7-Eleven type shop, and bought a couple half liters of highpoint beer and headed for the hotel. I got my room and a reservation for breakfast the next morning. As I drank my beers I realized just how exhausted I was and went to bed at 5:30 in the afternoon with the sun still high in the sky. I slept through till 5:00 the next morning.

Breakfast at the hotel started at 4:00. I was up at 5:00, downstairs and had breakfast (which was one of the best values of any breakfast we had our whole time in France), and was at the terminal well before 7:00 when they had told me to be there. As I headed for security I realized I still had my pen knife in my pocket so it was back to the Relay store where I bought some stamps and an envelope and mailed my penknife to myself back in the good old USA. An hour and a half later I was on the plane heading home. I was in the middle seat between two tall, but skinny guys, so I had just about as comfortable a flight as I could have.

Once in Atlanta I was finally able to call Karen and tell her what was going on. With that done I went to a bar and had a Sam Adams ale, $7.00, so there would only be one of those. Then I went to a bank machine and got some more American dollars in case I had some additional expenses before I got home. I went to my gate and settled in for the long tedious wait before my departure. But it did come and I was eventually on the plane to Cedar Rapids. Karen met me when I came in.

At this point our adventure is over and the two storylines come together once again.
A few days later my pen knife arrived. Tale complete.

July 11, 2009

We were up by 6:00 as usual and had breakfast and checked out of the hotel by 8:00. Off to the nearby bank machine and our daily infusion of euros, then off to Rouen.

When doing my travel research I kept running into La Pont du Normandie or the Bridge of Normandy whenever I found something in the Honfleur area. It is a beautiful modern bridge and I wanted to go over it if I could. It was a simple matter to plan our route so that could happen. As the Seine approaches the sea, the river valley flattens out and widens and the Seine runs in a series of long slow loops. After crossing, we more or less made our way along the north bank.

Today’s drive was the most complex one I had planned for our entire trip. It was imperative that Karen be spot on with her navigating. So it was no help when just after our start her cheaters broke in two and she was forced to follow our course with only one lens of her glasses balanced precariously on her nose.

At that point I looked a ways ahead and thought, “oh no”. In front of us I saw a pack of bicyclists and I thought we must’ve landed ourselves smack dab in the middle of the Tour de France. Of course it hadn’t started yet so these guys must’ve been just a bunch of devotees. They did stay pretty well in their lane and to their credit they were going almost as fast as we were. However, the road was fairly narrow and twisty and it took quite a while for me to find a place where I could pass them, all 50 at once. I tried to get far enough ahead of them that they wouldn’t be a problem for me again, but it was increasingly difficult for Karen to tell where we were going with only half her glasses on.

We decided to pull over at the next small town to see if we could get another pair of cheaters in a pharmacy. The first place we tried didn’t have anything, but the second one had just what we were looking for. The sales clerk did not have one word of English though. But she rose to the occasion, pulling box after box of +2 diopter glasses out of the back room. She was really into it and seemed excited that Karen would have some new, cute frames to wear. Unfortunately, while we were in the store, the pack of bicyclists rolled past, but Karen was now set to do some serious navigating in her new €15 glasses. Karen: She helped me find a really cute pair- really getting into the fashion statement and oohing and ahhing in approval when I settled on the right ones. It was worth getting passed by the bikes.

A short distance on we turned off the main road at Yainville. Our destination was the Abbaye de Jumiege. In all the guidebooks I looked at they said this Romanesque ruin was one of the high points in this section of Normandy. It is old but as far as I could see it was not any more spectacular than any other medieval ruin. It is supposed to be lit up spectacularly at night but we were there in the morning so we couldn’t see that it was any big deal. The carved head is the capital of a column and the faint painting to the right of it is the only bit of the original painted decoration to have survived.

On the way back to the main road we noticed that the pesky pack of pedalists had stopped at a brasserie for a rest and a beer. Hooray, they wouldn’t be a problem for us anymore. Just down the main road is the town of Duclair whose claim to fame is that it has a car ferry across the Seine. I thought this would be a fun thing to do and since we were a little ahead of schedule, even if it took an hour, it would be worth it. There appeared to be a line forming, with just one vehicle at this point, so I pulled in behind him. I got out of the car and walked to the ferry master to find out if I was doing things properly. He spoke no English but indicated I was doing the right thing and when I signaled to ask them how much it cost, he said, “Gratuit” or free. Perfect. We had seen the ferry landing on the other bank just as we pulled up. In no time at all it was making its way back to our side of the river full of cars. When they had emptied out, they started loading us on. During the process I got out of the car and took some pictures and the one shown here is the only one I have that shows the car we rented. The picture in the last installment was copied from the internet.

We arrived at Château VascÅ“uil about 1:00. There was a nice young lady manning the ticket building. You could walk around in there and find a number of brochures of local attractions. She flattered me by saying she thought my French was pretty good and invited me to read a paragraph or two from one of the brochures. I’m sure she was getting a hoot out of this but she was a sweetheart and we had fun talking with her. We decided to have lunch before we started touring the place and they had a nice little café right on the grounds. It was next to a beautiful little waterfall and was landscaped with flowers. I had Capococcia Beef which was sliced paper thin with oil, basil, and fromage. Karen had quiche and we both had “les frites” or french fries.

The Château was beautifully landscaped and the gardens were used as a setting for many pieces of sculpture. There was a small stream running through the place with lots of flowers and meticulously trimmed hedges. We have been seeing these hedges all over France and this would be one of the last opportunities we had to take a picture of them.

The sculpture was why we came here of course. They had at least four sculptures by Salvador Dali. The house had been restored by the national trust or something and is now used for art displays. There was a show featuring very strange and disturbing paintings of angels when we were there.

We spent a little over two hours in the grounds then left to go to our car, waving to the ticket girl on the way out.

Later that afternoon

As soon as we got in the car Karen noticed that my suitcase and backpack were not in the backseat. We jumped out and looked in the trunk and Karen’s backpack and suitcase were not there either. Linda’s cell phone was also gone. I must’ve pushed the unlock button not the lock button when we got out of the car. They had stolen practically everything we owned and worst of all, my passport was gone too.

We had faithfully carried our passports in special pouches that we had around our waist everywhere during the vacation . The pouches were fairly hot and uncomfortable to wear, so today Karen decided to put her passport in her purse and I put mine in the front pocket of my pack. Wouldn’t you know this would be the day when things fell apart. Strangely, they had not touched any of the souvenirs that were neatly stacked in a pile on the left side of the trunk. They also did not take our map atlas, my trip papers, or most important, Karen’s little journal with all our memories recorded.

We went back to the gatehouse to see if the girl could help us. She called the nearest police station which was about 15 miles away. Speaking French, she could explain the situation way more clearly than we could have and she was also able to let us know what was going on in her almost perfect English. She pulled out one of the brochures and showed us which road to take to get to Lyons-la-Forêt where the gendarmerie was.

When we got there the gendarme, Marie Sohier, waved us in and asked us to wait a few minutes. She was dealing with some other small village problem at the time. That took about a half hour or 45 minutes to resolve then her time was ours. With the limited amount of each other’s language that we shared, sign language, and drawings, we got the theft report filled out over the next three hours. During that time there must’ve been a shift change because two male officers and another female officer showed up. The men went off on patrol and the other woman stayed around to help us resolve our problems. While we and Marie worked on the theft report, the other officer got on the Internet and made phone calls for us. One of the first things she did was to call our hotel in Rouen and tell them what happened and that we would be late. She also tried to find out whether the photocopy of my passport, my driver’s license, and a copy of the theft report would be enough to get me a boarding pass at the airport on Monday. And if we were traveling to France it would have, but it turned out it was not good enough to get us back into the good old USA.

I had Marie try a couple of things for me. One was to call our telephone number and see if the knuckleheads answered. They were smart enough to have turned off the phone, which is more than I had been able to do the whole time we were in France. She also called the US Embassy for me and handed it over so I could deal with them. There was no dealing with them of course because it was Saturday and they were closed for the weekend. Nothing could be done until Monday morning at nine o’clock back in Paris.

With official documents in hand we left the gendarmerie at about 7:30 and started off for Rouen. Later, we regretted that we had not taken a picture of the station or Marie, who at this point, we had spent more time with than any other person in France. She was very kind to us and did the best she could. We all knew that it would be a miracle if any of our possessions were found.

Karen: Yes, my beautiful silk scarf that made me feel so glamourous was gone. I thought some very dark thoughts about people who would be so mean to steal all our stfuff. The worst part was, since everyone in France is nice and slim, they had no use for our clothes or most of our other things. I lost some jewelry that meant a lot to me and other things that were just a nuisance. Overall, we took stock and realized that we had already had a marvelous, fantastic, romantic adventure and they couldn’t take any of that away. We had all of our beautiful pictures, my journal, our memories and two more days to enjoy.

It was only a short hop of about 15 miles to Rouen but the metro area has about 500,000 people so this was a pretty big city with complex traffic. We had a lot of trouble finding our hotel. Because of detours, we took two or three wrong turns and at one point found ourselves in a tunnel which went who knows where. We tried to turn around and did find our way back to the tunnel, but once on the other side of it again we did no better than the first time and ended up in it once again. The worst part of all this was that my atlas only covered the areas that we were supposed to be traveling in and once we got outside of that we had no clue where we were. Somehow or other we muddled through, routed up one tiny one-way street and down another. We finally got to the hotel at about 9:00 and abandoned our car in Parking Ramp P2 as we were told to do.

We ate a late supper in the bar, a mixed grill, which had some disgusting kind of kidney as part of it, but otherwise was various delicious cuts of pork, beef, and something else. I tried to call my cousin Susan who was going to meet us the next day. We had decided we would make final arrangements after she arrived in France and called me on our cell phone, which was now gone. With some difficulty I eventually did reach her and we got things sorted out. I asked her if I could borrow a small suitcase to put our few remaining belongings in for the trip home. Trying to make those calls through the switchboard and the phone in our room was a nightmare.

We fell into bed exhausted around 11:30. What a deal!

July 9, 2009

Today we began the second part of our vacation, a tour through Normandy. Our strategy for seeing the sights in Paris had been fairly simple. We planned one major museum per day, scheduled first thing in the morning and we left the rest of the day open. We would add in visits to this or that other attraction as they came up. This worked really well and as you can see from the previous accounts we got to see quite a bit.

With our trip through Normandy however, we needed to plan things more carefully because we had to get to four specific places, one every day. We planned those stops because usually there was a major attraction in each place. We also planned to stop a couple times a day and see other interesting things along the way. This required that I do quite a bit of planning, not only to determine which sites we would see, but to make sure that we allowed enough time in between those sites to get to where we wanted to go.

We left the Hotel Bretagne and had breakfast in a little café near the hotel. We had croissants, juice and coffee. We picked up the car at 9:30. The woman at the desk kindly entered phone numbers for Europcar into our phone, both Rennes, our starting point, and Rouen, where we would drop the car off at the end. We had wanted to rent a Smart car but this agency didn’t use them. They indicated we would have a Renault Twingo, but when we picked the car up it was a Toyota Aygo. It was small, comfortable and brand-new.

Our trip into Paris when we first arrived had been a white knuckle affair. I suspected that would be the case and I was determined not to drive anywhere near Paris. That’s one reason why we took the bullet train to Rennes and why we would take another train back to Paris when we returned there. When we had figured out the sites we wanted to see in Normandy, I planned a route between the cities with Google maps. I picked small and medium sized roads to make sure that the traffic would be as friendly as possible. Then I ran out an atlas of our entire route with each page covering about 10 miles of driving. This was a small enough scale to show every road in the surrounding area and yet covered enough area that we didn’t have to turn the page every minute or two. Also, Karen could usually see it with her old bifocal-ed eyes! This scale also allowed us to keep on our way if we made a wrong turn or two.

We got out of town smoothly despite the fact that we had to alter our route slightly because of one-way streets and where we got out of the parking lot. I picked small back roads that were narrow, and wound through the countryside. Roads are paved very smoothly so driving was comfortable. We saw many picturesque villages, farms, and beautiful flowers everywhere. It seemed like everyone has glorious blue, purple and pink hydrangeas, also lots of geraniums.

We arrived at Mont St. Michel about 10:30 a.m. We parked fairly close and walked about two blocks to the entrance. First order of business was toilets, .40€ a go. There was no line at the men’s but of course it took Karen about 20 minutes to get through the line. Then we started up the cobbled street to the Abbey. There were lots of small souvenir shops and restaurants. We sampled some cookies at a biscuitier and decided to buy three boxes. Also bought a small model of the island and a mug.

The street was steeply sloped and pretty crowded but nothing compared to the crowds on the way down. We timed our visit perfectly to miss the worst of the crowds. The Abbey was simple, but beautiful. The views from every window and terrace were astounding. This was quite a sight and one of our favorites so far.

We stopped in Villedieu-les-Poêles which is famous for shops with copperware. We walked around to shop and look at the sights. The town had some really ancient sections. We planned to have lunch there but most restaurants were closed because we were late, two o’clock or so. We bought a small copper colander with a handle.

After we left Villedieu-les-Poêles we got a little mixed up but finally got on our way to the American cemetery and Omaha Beach. We stopped in the visitor center first which had very emotional displays about the “people” who were there as soldiers. By hearing about their personalities and a little about their lives, the tragedy of so many young lives lost was even greater. One display said there were 9000 American soldiers killed in the assault but there were 18,000 civilian lives lost during the battle! The cemetery was closing so we saw taps and the flag lowered at the monument. Also saw a view of Omaha Beach and the thousands of graves.

We really got turned around as we left for Bayeux. We went round and round several times before we got on the right road. We saw an old church that had been bombed or shelled in the war and restored. Bayeux was a hopping tourist spot when we arrived. We drove right by our hotel on the narrow streets but missed it. When we found it, it was our most charming place of all, Hotel Riene Mathilde, very old. Our room was very large, nice, and had a new bathroom. Our view overlooked a charming river with a brick cobbled path along the bank with beautiful flowers and plants. There were old buildings all around.

We checked in and had a small adventure with our car, the key, and parking. After check-in I returned to the car to move it to the free hotel parking lot. Try as I may, I could not get the key to turn in the ignition. Eventually we got ahold of Europcar tech support and he asked me if I had turned the steering wheel slightly when I tried it. I knew that, drat. I told him, “Thanks, you are Superman!” He had a little chuckle over that.

Dinner at the restaurant featuring Normandy dishes. We both had fish. Karen, red mullet in cream sauce. Butch, trout. I had escargot for entrée while Karen had salad with pickled salmon and trout. In France the entrée is the appetizer. We both had Crème brûlée for dessert. We were dog tired and stiff from all the stair climbing. Asleep by 11:30 p.m.

July 10, 2009

We slept in today, 7:00 a.m. We had breakfast at the hotel then off to the Tapestry Museum. €7.80 each with a guided commentary included. The tapestry was a marvel of detail and artistry. Particularly beautiful where the horses and the battle scenes. There were details along the bottom that added to the context of the story. The commentary was perfectly paced, informative, and funny. It was totally amazing. We got a postcard for Linda (see above), a great large format book, and a mug.

We were on the road out of Bayeux at 10:15 a.m. It was a beautiful curvy road, we saw picturesque villages, and colorful golden crops (maybe rape?). We passed through Putot-en-Auge but our first stop was listed as an “unspoiled village” in our guidebook, Beuvron-en-Auge. They were absolutely right. Every building was half timbered and painted beautifully. There was a main square with many shops, restaurants, and the manor house. But they knew what they had and everything was a bit pricey.

We had a glass of cider and did a little browsing. We bought some caramels for Karen’s office friends in a tin box decorated to look like the shop where we bought it. Lunch prices were very expensive so we each had one caramel and went on.

The next stop was the Château de CrèvecÅ“ur. It was a very well preserved and restored medieval Lord’s moated and fortified manor. There was a program video about how half timber buildings were originally built and also how they were restored and maintained. The grounds were beautiful and included a barn, a dove cote, a chapel, and a farmhouse/stable. Of particular interest to me was a display of early musical instruments in the chapel, but when we went to see them, another exhibit was there because the instruments had been lent to another museum. Rats.

Back in the car by 2:30 p.m. and on the way to Honfleur. We took a scenic drive along the coast road through Deauville and other small villages. Honfleur is very busy and very touristy. We had a hairy time getting to the parking lot of our motel and using a parking machine for the first time, but otherwise everything went well. Everything we have seen is utterly charming and wonderful on the roads we have traveled.

We checked into our hotel in Honfleur. Strange place, rents rooms from a machine for 24 hours at a time. It was inexpensive, €47. When we got upstairs we found a large, new clean room. It had a queen size bed with a single bunk bed over the top. It had a desk and a sink in the main room with separate shower and toilet compartments. We were given an entry code instead of a key.

We set out for St. Catherine’s Church which is an all wooden cathedral. Very beautiful, big old oaken beams, black with age. The ceiling looks like the inside hull of a wooden ship, upside down.

After visiting the church we strolled along the square harbor. It was very picturesque with all kinds of boats and old buildings. We chose a restaurant and picked the prix fixe menu for €21.50. Karen had mussels marinated in butter garlic broth and fish soup for the entrée, chocolate mousse for dessert. I had prawns for entrée, “Two Fish with Normandie Sauce” for the main course and three cheeses for dessert. Karen’s mussels were great, the rest so so. My whole meal was adequate but not great. We stopped on the way back to our hotel and bought some port at a grocery store. We would have to get up at midnight to feed the meter for our car since parking in this tourist town was 24 hours a day and we could not afford to deal with a Denver boot, something we saw quite a bit of. An early night for us, we were both tired.

Yep, we did get up at midnight but instead of feeding the meter we backed the car length of the parking lot and parked it in a hotel free space. The car in front of us was encroaching into the space but I worked and worked and got our little car in. Karen: A truly masterful job of close maneuvering after only a few hours’ sleep and a half bottle of port!

July 7, 2009

Our decision to switch the Louvre and Versailles would come back to haunt us today. We arrived at the Louvre bright and early as is our strategy and noticed that practically no one was around. Great, we would have the Louvre to ourselves. We were a few minutes early so we took some pictures of the glass pyramid and the machine that washes its glass panels.

As opening time approached we headed for the entrance only to notice a sign that said the Louvre was closed on Tuesdays. Rats. I had been so careful about scheduling which museum we would see on which day, taking into account who was open when. It never even entered my head when we decided to trade. To make matters worse, this was the fourth day of our four-day museum pass. That meant we would have to pay if we wanted to go to the Louvre.

We had other things we wanted to see, so the day would not go to waste. We got on the Metro and took it to the Arènes de Lutèce. This is the ruin of a Roman amphitheater. In its day it could hold 35,000 people but was used as a stone quarry for later building projects and now is a shadow of its former self. Still, its one of the oldest things in Paris and worth seeing. Where gladiators once died, it is now mostly used as a neighborhood playground. Kids were playing a baseball-like game when we were there.

A couple metro stops farther along was the market on the Rue Mouffetard. This street is one of the oldest in Paris and was the road to Rome back in the day. It may even have existed in Neolithic times. It is narrow and twisty and has been closed to traffic in sections. In those areas they have set up a permanent outdoor market. It is noisy and colorful and has stalls for fruit, butchers, bakeries, bags, chocolate, wine, etc. We stopped at one brasserie where I had a cafe-au-lait and Karen had a plain French cafe which is more like what we think of as an espresso. She drinks her coffee black but even she had to add sugar to this cup.

As we got near our hotel we noticed that they were having a street market by our metro stop. There were lots of vegetables and fish. I found a canvas pouch with a neck strap that fit my camera perfectly. Now I wouldn’t have to carry our backpack everywhere I went. It also had several other pockets that I could use to store my iPod, compass, and misc papers. Karen bought a lovely silk scarf. Karen: It was the kind of thing that I would never normally buy for myself – way too expensive and all that. It had subtle stripes of lavender and shades of green and gold with beautiful knotted fringe trim. The guy in the booth was quite a salesman and showed me how to form a loop and wear it fashionably. I felt very cool and Parisienne and the sale was made!!

We had been on the road a number of days now so we went back to the hotel, gathered up our unmentionables and headed to the laundomat, half a block away. A laundromat in a foreign country is another small adventure in its way. Not too much of a pain and only took us about an hour and an half. The cost for the hotel service was 7 euros for each t-shirt and the prices went up from there so we chose this route. The whole thing cost us about 8 euros so it was worth it. Besides, Karen went down by the metro and bought a small quiche and a meat pie from one of the street shops for lunch.

After a short nap we were off to Montmarte. We got off at a stop directly across from the Moulin Rouge. The neighborhood is pretty rough. Both sides of the street are crammed with porn shops and venues of adult entertainment. It was a cool and drizzly day and everything looked filthy and unappealing.

We headed up the hill a couple of blocks to the Café des Deux Moulins, the place where the movie Amelie was filmed. Amelie is one of my favorite movies so this was a required stop. This time Karen had the cafe-au-lait and I had a beer. The place is pretty nice but definitely capitalizes on the tourist aspects of being the movie site.

We rode the metro back a stop or two then found the stop for the Montmartobus. This bus just runs around Montmarte. We were going to use it to sightsee. Also on the bus was a feisty, clever, but very nice older woman who spoke English. She pointed things out to us and joked and when we told her we were Americans she said, “Well, nobody’s perfect.” We had high hopes for Montmarte with its reputation as an artists’ colony, but the reality was it was just a run down, low rent area. The lady showed us the best place to get off for our next stop, the Basilique du Sacré-CÅ“ur.

This cathedral is a relatively recent addition to the Paris skyline, not completed till 1914. I think it is the highest point in Paris and from its steps it presents a broad panorama of the city.

It is on these steps that we had arranged to meet Pierre Miendre of the French 3D club at 7:00.

I became acquainted with Pierre when he responded to a question I sent to one of my 3D mailing lists. From his email address I could see he was writing from France. I asked if he happened to live in Paris and he said he was only a few minute’s walk from Montmarte. I invited him to have a drink with us when we were there. I had no problem recognizing him when he arrived because we had had a video chat before Karen and I left for France. We showed each other our cameras at dinner and he gave me some copies of the monthly newsletter he is the editor of. Like many photographers, we forgot to take pictures of each other. Just as we got to the restaurant for dinner, there was a heavy cloudburst. The rain pelted down and tourists scattered to find shelter. We were happy to be inside. Pierre could also translate to help us order and communicate- nice for a change.

On the way back to the hotel we made our only screw-ups on the subway. First, we got on one going the wrong way. This was easily fixed, you just get off as soon as you realize it, cross over to the other side of the platform, and get back on. The other was a bit more tense but worked out OK. The platform was pretty crowded and when the train pulled up I got on and turned to say something to Karen but she was nowhere to be seen. I looked out the still open doors, no Karen. Just as the doors were closing, out pops her head from the next car. I gave her the OK sign and at the next stop she joined me in my car. We really did not want to get separated and made some quick plans for what we would do if that ever happened again.

Another late night. In bed by 11:00

July 8, 2009

Our last day in Gay Paris! But third time’s a charm, we finally got into the Louvre. There was a fast moving line at opening and we bought our tickets at an automatic machine. When we got the guide map we sat down and formulated a plan of action. We had prepared a list of many of the things we wanted to see at the museum but true to form, left it at the hotel. Not to worry, most of them were featured on the map. We circled them and headed out. First on the agenda was the Mona Lisa. Good thing too, by the time we got there the crowd was already 10 deep.

Still the room is enormous and when we arrived there were only about 150-200 people in the room. When we walked by the same room later on our way to another part of the Louvre there were probably close to 600 people in the room. People could barely move, let alone see any of the paintings. We were glad we made a beeline there first.We took our pictures with her. After all, it was most important to show we had been there. You can’t really see her anyway, not the way you want to. The railing is about 10 feet back and she is protected by a layer of bullet proof glass. At the other end of the room is a picture of The Wedding at Cana. This was one of Karen’s favorites.

Karen: The painting is enormous and filled with all kinds of action and color. It shows the time when Jesus performed the miracle of turning water into wine at a wedding when it ran out. You can see that would be a big bummer but according to the story I read, Mary was there and urged him to do it so people would start to see that he was no ordinary prophet. As I stood in the middle of the room admiring the painting, there was a couple next to me just standing and looking as well. Pretty soon the guy says to his wife,”Well, I see Jesus and that has to be Mary and St. Peter but there are way more than 12 men in this picture so which are the other desciples?” His wife says, “You idiot, this isn’t the last supper!” Well too much art can really confuse a person. It was still my favorite painting of all.

From the Mona Lisa we went from place to place. We saw the other two grand ladies of the museum; the Winged Victory of Samothrace and the Venus de Milo.

The Louvre itself is very beautiful and the perfect setting for all this art. We enjoyed many paintings even though we didn’t know all of them. We tried to avoid Byzantine and other Christian art and also a lot of the Egyptian stuff. We saw lots though because we walked through some of those areas. High points included the Code of Hammerabi, Vermeer and other Flemish painters, and some very ancient and large winged Assyrian bulls.

We were in the Louvre from 9:30 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. and got thoroughly tuckered out. We bought a mug of the Mona Lisa and a magnet of the Venus de Milo for souvenirs.

Took the Metro back to our neighborhood for one last Café lunch on the sidewalk (wine and beer too). Ended the meal with crème brûlée and tart tatin. Our waitress was a real treat. She joked and talked with us the whole time. The people of Paris were very nice to us on the whole. I wished we could speak their language better. I got her to pose for a photo.

Then we picked up our suitcases and left for the train station. We waited about two hours then boarded the bullet train (TGV) for Rennes. First class was very comfortable and everyone was very quiet-maybe a little too full of their own first class-ness for our tastes. Got a glimpse of the countryside as we hurtled by. Looked a lot like Iowa. Arrived Rennes at 8:10 p.m. A nice man helped us find our way out of the station and to our hotel, Hotel Bretagne. Small room, adequate.

Checked out where we pick up car tomorrow, got some cash and had a “Norwegian” pizza (smoked salmon, olive, and tomato; it was probably really canned tunafish) wine and beer. Back to hotel for bed by 11:00 p.m.

July 5, 2009

Today we planned to visit the Louvre. We got ready, had breakfast at the hotel and got on the Metro to the Louvre. We were there well before the nine o’clock opening time. But when we got there we noticed that there was already a long line. We looked around to see where the museum pass entrance was but couldn’t find one. When we saw a Louvre employee, we asked. She said the first Sunday of every month was free day, that our museum passes didn’t do us any good, and that we would have to stand in line like everyone else. At that point the line was already about three blocks long. We stood in line for a while thinking about things and decided that the museum would be just too crowded. I suggested to Karen that we swap the Palace of Versailles and the Louvre on our schedule. She agreed.

We took the Metro across the river and went to the station to catch the RER out to Versailles. But when we got to the station we were told that that line was under repair and we would have to go via Montparnasse. OK. Off to Montparnasse, which is one of the major train stations in Paris. It was a very confusing station. Buying tickets was a nightmare because you have to put coins in the automatic ticket machines and the ticket office was closed because it was Sunday. We only had bills. They only announce which platform the train departs from 20 minutes before it’s time to go. We ran into two other American couples who are also going to Versailles and we all worked as a team to solve the problems. English speaking tourists tend to find each other in these places.

We finally got there but when we did, we were in for a nasty surprise. Versailles has three train stations. The one we originally planned to arrive at, Gare Rive Gauche, was the one that was closed. It was the closest to the palace. But the one where we actually arrived, Gare Versailles-Chantier, was the one that was farthest away. Twice as far as the normal one and almost a mile from the front gate. The day was hot and it was just plain bad for a person with arthritic knees. We had to stop along the way and buy water, which by the way, in France costs as much as wine.

Our museum passes did get us right in however and we started the “royal apartments” tour. Remembering our Rick Steves audio guide we went from room to room looking at this and that. The big payoff of course is the Hall of Mirrors. One good thing about the Palace is they realize people need to rest frequently and there are benches everywhere to take a load off your feet. It really was a spectacular sight and an example of the lavish life that French royalty lived. You can see why the peasants were a bit miffed. Viva la Revolution!

While the museum pass gets you into the royal apartment tour, it does nothing else for you there. If you want to see the grounds or Marie Antoinette’s Village, you have to pay extra. I was for going back right then but the gardens were one of the things Karen really wanted to see.

After paying to get into the gardens we made our way to the tram which would get us to Marie Antoinette’s Village. What a ramshackle thing that was. There are speed bumps every 50 feet on the road and the tram vibrated and shook as every set of tires went over them. To make matters worse there were glass panels all around the cars whose sole purpose seemed to be to deprive the occupants of any breath of wind that may be blowing by. We remembered too late that Rick Steves had mentioned that very drawback with the tram. When we got to the end we learned that the ride did not go to Marie Antoinette’s Village, only got you within about a 15 minute walk and stopped at two sites that I can’t imagine anybody wanted to see ever. We stayed on the tram and went back to the palace.

They also rent golf carts and bicycles at Versailles and we really should have got one of those, especially the golf cart.

To make matters worse, when we left we could not find a bus to take us back to the train station. We discovered that we could have ridden one from the station to the palace, by the way. And we had to walk that whole mile back. By the time we got to the train station we were completely wrecked. My feet and legs were screaming and I thought I was going to faint about five times on the way. Physically, this was a day from hell. But the palace is beautiful and interesting. We would do things differently if we went back.

We were back in Paris by 5:00. We had a rest and cleaned up. We had dinner at the La Village Ronsard Restaurant, about a block from our hotel. Karen had Salad Perigordine, a mixture of pâté, tomatoes, and duck breast. I had sliced duck breast in honey sauce, and green beans. Just delicious. Home again to the hotel, refreshing air conditioning, and a night’s sleep that helped us recover.

July 6, 2009

Today, the Pompidou Museum of Modern Art was our artistic target. My planning schedule indicated that it opened at 10:00. We were running a little late because of our exhausting day yesterday and stopping to buy a phone chip on the way. When we got there we discovered that it did not open until 11:00, so we had to wait a few minutes before we could get in. Not to worry. I took a few pictures of the museum’s unique exterior and when the gates opened we went right in. There are about five floors in the museum. I’m not sure what’s in all of them. One, at least, is for traveling exhibits and costs extra to go to. It seems like there are only two floors that are the main part of the museum. The top one of these had the most Cubist sculptures and was the one we went to see first. When we got there, there was almost no one else on the whole floor and what a bonanza of sculpture there was. Just what I wanted to see. Duchamp-Villiers, Miro, Lipchitz, Calder, Picasso, all the biggies.

We were finding our sea legs about how much time to spend in museums and decided that modern paintings were not worth the wear and tear on our legs.

On the way back we stopped for lunch. I had a ham and Swiss sandwich which was okay but not out of the ordinary. Karen had salad avec trois frommage (three cheeses) which was just delicious. Salads were particularly interesting and had wonderfully fresh ingredients in unique combinations.

Next, Notre Dame. This is almost as big an icon of Paris as the Eiffel Tower and is a fine example of Gothic architecture. But to me it’s just a little plain. Some of the stained glass is very nice. In one of the apse chapels there are some models of the cathedral that give you a wonderful idea of how it was constructed.

The flying buttresses at the back of the building are marvelous but are very difficult to see because of the surrounding trees. We found some Ameriacans willing to give our camera a go and they took one of just a few shots of the two of us together. The wind was blowing and our hair was standing straight up but the breeze felt nice.

Two major sightseeing attractions in one day were starting to take their toll on us so we headed back to the hotel to rest for a little while. On the way we bought some sunblock and I got a small penknife that I had been trying to find since we got to France. Had I tried to take my normal one it would’ve been confiscated at airport security. I did not want to lose it because of its sentimental value. Small things like bandaids, sun block, and antiseptic that we bought in pharmacies were very expensive. I wonder what the French do for everyday health care needs!

After we rested up we still had quite a bit of time before sunset so we took the Metro back to the Isle de la Cité to see Ste. Chapelle. It was originally built in the royal palace complex as a place to enshrine the relic, Jesus’s crown of thorns, which cost more for the king to buy than the entire cost to build the chapel. The chapel is part of what is now the Palace of Justice, the home of the French police and as such has fairly tight security. They took my newfound penknife away from me, but returned it to me when we left.

Ste. Chapelle is an absolute jewel of Gothic architecture, perfect in every way. Because it is fairly small it does not have to rely on massive stonework so there is a much higher percentage of stained glass. There are two floors; the ground floor being the place for common people to worship and the upper floor for the aristocracy. The lower floor is still fairly nice with a painted blue ceiling with gold fleurs-de-lis. But upstairs, the beauty of the stained glass takes your breath away. They had small chairs all around the perimeter of the chapel for people to sit and take in the beauty of the windows.

What an action-packed day so far. But wait, there’s more!

We got on the Metro and rode it to the Arc de Triomphe. Our museum pass would have allowed us to go to the top, but it was 240 steps or about 50 meters to climb and not an elevator in sight. We decided to just look at it from the outside. It is much bigger than I thought it would be.

Back on the Metro, next stop the Trocadéro Park. But first, a stop at a brasserie for some beer, wine, and pâté. It had to be done.

A big party crowd was at the park waiting for the lights to be turned on. There had been some kind of concert or event at the fountain before we got there and workers were taking down the stage.

Our friends Doug and Lynne had told us this was the spot to look at the Eiffel Tower from when they lit it up at night and we took them at their word. They were right, the landscaped park provided a beautiful foreground for the scene. As the sky grew darker they turned on the lights, (around 10:00) and as it got darker still, they started firing off strobe lights all over the Tower. It was a very romantic end to a very full day.

Back on the Metro and home to our hotel by 11:00.

July 4, 2009

OK! The vacation begins today. From reading all the guidebooks and watching the Rick Steves videos we knew that we needed to arrive at all our tourist destinations as soon as the doors opened in the morning. One of the major reasons for our our vacation was to see art, and especially sculpture. So, for the five days we were going to be in Paris we decided to see major museums on four of the days. We left the last day open in case something went wrong or in case we just wanted to hang out and soak in the sights.

So in keeping with our plan we got up first thing in the morning, six o’clock. We showered and got ready and went down to the breakfast room for our petit déjeuner, or breakfast as we say in English. Breakfast was provided in the cost of our hotel room and we decided to take advantage of it. It was a handy thing because we could have something to eat before we left and we didn’t have to mess around with finding a place or paying a bill or anything like that. The hotel put on a pretty good spread. They had three or four kinds of croissants, many kinds of cheese, ham, fruit, cereal, various kinds of jams and spreads, orange juice, and of course coffee. We left the hotel happy and full. Usually it meant that we could buy just one meal a day to save on costs.

The first order of business was our transportation needs. We walked the block to the closest Metro station, Maubert Mutualité. Finding the ticket office, we bought a 3-zone, 5-day Paris Visite transit pass each. Paris is divided into six zones roughly forming concentric circles around the center of town. Practically anything you would want to see in Paris is in the middle three zones. Only Charles de Gaulle airport, Versailles, and Euro Disney are outside that. For those destinations it is cheaper just to buy a single ticket. To enter the Metro you insert your ticket into the front end of the mechanical gate which processes the ticket and spits it out again about half way along. When you take the ticket out of the machine it releases the doors into the subway platforms. We became Metro experts by the time we left Paris.

We were going to the Musée d’Orsay so we took the train to the Gare Austerlitz then transferred to the RER for the trip to the Orsay. It took less than a half an hour all told. The Musée d’Orsay opened at 9:30 and we were ready when it did. We bought a 4-day Paris museum pass which we would use at all the other museums during our stay in Paris. We ended up staying at the museum for four hours.

The three major museums in Paris; the Louvre, the Musée d’Orsay, and the Pompidou have divided the art collections into three time periods. The Louvre has artwork up to about 1840. The Musée d’Orsay has art from 1840 to about World War I. And the Pompidou has modern art from about 1914 to the present. I think the Musée d’Orsay is my favorite art museum in Paris. It has all the Impressionist art from that time and a whole lot of sculpture, what I was interested in. We saw many famous paintings; van Goghs, Dégas , Monets, you know, those guys. But I was particularly interested in the sculpture. One of the people I had my eye out for was Maillol and he was there in spades. Also, Dégas was well represented both in sculptures and paintings. While the Impressionist painters had left the traditional art scene of this time, the sculptors continued with a fairly realistic approach for some time longer. The art nouveau furniture section was amazing. There was a bedroom suite that was particularly beautiful and one place had a whole room of furniture with fancy woodwork as well.

We had a fancy dessert at the museum, looked out over the city from the balcony, and had a thoroughly wonderful time.

Instead of taking the Metro back to our next activity Karen suggested we ride the Batobus, the boat that runs up and down the Seine just like a bus does on land. You have to buy a daily pass so we figured we’d use it again later in the afternoon. We took it up the river to the Notre Dame stop. Then we crossed the bridge and went to the Isle Saint Louis. This is a smaller island just up the river from the Isle de Cité, the island that Notre Dame and other government buildings are built on. Isle Saint Louis is primarily a shopping district. There is one major street that runs along the centerline of the island and it is populated with many art galleries, high-end ice cream shops, street musicians, and other fancy places of business. It also had places where a person could quench their thirst Parisienne style.

We got back on the Batobus and decided to ride its full circuit. We left Notre Dame and headed upriver to the Jardin des Plantes. This is a big park and it had many sculptures along the riverbank. Sadly, we never got a chance to go back there and have a look. The boat made a U-turn and started back down the river along the other side, that is, The Right Bank. We just sat there and watched Paris go by and when it got to the Eiffel Tower it made a U-turn again and headed back upstream along The Left Bank. We got off again at the Notre Dame stop then walked back to our hotel.

There were quite a number of restaurants in our neighborhood. And while it may seem crazy to have a pizza in France, we did just that. We ate at a place called Pescatore and after the pizza had a yummy dessert. Our waiter looked a bit like a very young Brad Pitt. He was very nice and helpful with our pitiful French.

It was still fairly early so we went to another brasserie and had a nightcap, gin and tonic for me and more wine for Karen!