Recap of the last few days

Dec 29th
12:45PM
We’re on Mediterranean time today. I’m supposed to drive Morgane, Zoe, and Gabriel to Bretagne today. The time of departure was intended for 11AM but as 1PM quickly approaches, we’re still at Zoe’s apartment. I’m in no rush. I just would have preferred a few more hours of sleep.
Yesterday was spent wandering Paris—at times in the right direction and on two occasions lost. I had separated from Morgane and Zoe around 11AM to take some bags back to the flat so they wouldn’t have to heft them around all day. After my successful trip back to the apartment I went back out to meet them for lunch. My problems began the minute I stepped out onto the sidewalk: I started walking in the wrong direction. Several things could have helped me: 1) A Map (this New Year I might resolve to carry one with me at all times while I’m in Paris) 2) Sense (or perhaps a lack of egocentric stubbornness). I should have started backtracking the second I realized I was heading in the wrong direction 3) The sun (if the sun ever poked its head through the clouds I might have been able to triangulate my position and figure out which way to go after I neglected to back track). Any of these would have been beneficial and rescued me from the inevitable phone call. Instead I opted to listen to my well fed navigational ego, thinking I could figure out the right way through improvisation and most importantly without backtracking. Eventually I ended up much worse off than when I began, so I made the phone call. Since I was at a metro stop Morgane was able to tell me which lines to take to meet them at a new location for lunch. This worked out well for me. For now on I’ll forsake the roads in favor of the metro since I seem to be able to navigate it. The incident has probably left me better off than before. I got to experience Paris without my chaperone. I also learned a valuable lesson, “there’s nothing wrong with back-tracking.” I was even able to put it into use. When I started walking in the wrong direction later in the afternoon I back tracked with great success.

Zoe and Morgane hosted a dinner party Friday night for family and friends. It was a rather large affair (the picture to the left is from the loft looking down at the table). Since Finney and McCall (my friends from Austin that are currently living in Paris) I got to practice my English. We three, along with Mark (Emmanuelle’s boyfriend…..E=M’s sister), were able to set up an Anglophone perimeter for most of the night to defend ourselves against the mass of Gauls.
The party ran past 2AM (the Subway doesn’t run past 2Am on Fri/Sat nights) so Morgane and I took a cab back into the city and were in bed by 3AM. This of course leads me back to the 11AM departure time and my final lesson of the day—if the rest of the country is on Mediterranean time, I should fall back asleep and join them.

Dec 30th
5:00PM

Located in the northwestern most reaches of France, Bretagne is the birthplace of impressionism. In the French mindset it seems to hold a place akin to our own conception of the northwest. The region is quite damp and experiences light rains throughout the year. In Bretagne, the sun’s presence is always in combat with cloud cover. That interaction between light and shadow is perhaps what first attracted people like Gauguin and Van Gogh to the region.

We are staying in a castle near Pont Aven (sorry the map image isn't great) overlooking an inlet that leads out to the Atlantic Ocean. The castle was purchased by about 13 years ago (I think) by the man who, as far as I can gather, invented the two way pager (I was also told he had the patent on DSL in France as well). Michel (owner) refitted everything in the castle with modern conveniences. Somewhere along the way the balance between old and new seems to have been lost, giving the castle a sterile, unlived in feel somewhat akin a hospital. The outer walls seemed to have been heavily power washed which leaves the walls to seem like a construction of this century as opposed to the 16th. I don’t want to split hairs: getting to stay in a castle is an exciting first for me. As a history lover, I regret the loss of unique identity the castle had in place of what it’s become. One would think a better balance could have been reached.

Dec 28th

12:05AM

Day two has come and gone. Despite my difficulties accessing the internet at Nanou's apartment, it is an amazing place. We are smack dab in the middle of Paris.




After getting my solid ten hours of rest, Morgane and I went out for breakfast. I had some sort of pear pie (apparently I like pears as long as they are in pie form, GoGo). Following breakfast we walked through the streets of Paris to "Au Printemps," a giant department store. Morgane had a "surprise" for me. The store has a rooftop terrace that offers an amazing panoramic view of Paris. During the winter season they build an "Ice Maze" which was to be the surprise. Unless you are 4, you don't have to worry about getting lost. Lest you think she has doubts about my intelligence or navigation skills, Morgane was expecting it to be much larger. Despite the ice maze let down, the views on the terrace were amazing. Low lying clouds shrowded the tops of the Eiffel Tower, Montemarte, and numerous other buildings. After taking in the view we went back downstairs so Morgane could pick up a few Christmas presents. Evidently they celebrate the season a bit longer than we do.
Next we walked to the Picasso museum which turnd out to be very crowded and generally disappointing.
This evening we met Zoe for a drink so Morgane and she could discuss a new work project. Afterwards we went to watch "I'm Not There." The girls had yet to see it and after reading a Dylan biography while in Houston, I was anxious to see it a second time. With the biography fresh in my mind the film turned out to be even more enjoyable to watch than the first time.
The visit to the theater also offered the highlight of my day: the inaction of a Constanza theory (and if you're counting at home, that's two Constanza references in two posts). Someone at the UGC Bercy cour St. Emillion felt that the Constanza toilet stall hypothesis should be tested. Not only did they drop the door all the way to the floor, creating private rooms for each toilet, they decided the urinal concept unnecessary. Private toilets for each man. C'est liberte!

Dec 27th

8:47 AM

My first "day" in Paris passed quickly. The rapidity of which it seemed to pass was most likely aided by my status as a zombie. Though I assume I got a few hours of sleep on the plane, by the time I had landed I had been awake almost 24 hours. However, for a person that has trouble functioning on less than 7 or 8 hours, I think I held up pretty well during my first day.
I "surprised" Morgane at the airport--she was reading a book, not expecting me to pass through customs, etc so quickly. The ease with which I was able to exit my plane and make it through customs made me feel like George Costanza on his fabled trip to the airport, "I was seeing moves 4 times ahead." Everything fell into place for me (and I never hit the Van Wyck!). I got the tram right before it left, my bag was the fifth off the plane, and unlike the U.S., France has no problems with my name.
After a long cab ride into the city (we are in the Marais, Bob I'll post some pictures), I got to open my birthday and Christmas presents. We went for a walk through the city and then had falafels with the rest of America. Evidently the best falafel place in Paris is right around the corner and has garnered mentions in all the American guidebooks, so I felt a little funny spending my first meal in Paris surrounded by Americans. The falafel was excellent. So it goes.




The temperatures here are not too much worse than they would be in Arkansas-30s to 40s (I'm still adjusting to that celsius thing).
One of my presents from Morgane was a scarf, so that's helping me stay warm. Much to Morgane's dismay, I've never owned a scarf before so I needed pointers on how exactly one comports oneself while in a scarf.

The sun finally seems to be coming out (it's hard to tell since th windows face a courtyard) which means it's time to face day two en France.

Apology & Thoughts before boarding

I'm sorry it took me a day or two to get back on board with the blog. I've been having unexpected problems with the internet connection at Nanou's apartment.

Dec. 25th
8:30 PM

With as much air travel as I've been exposed to over the last seven months one would think my flight nerves might have been a thing of the past. My nervous expectancy and the rumbling in my stomach are a constant reminder how little my uneasiness has dissipated.
As I struggled through a Monday level crossword, I wondered if it was a bad omen. The sort of signs I always hear are out there. My educated side dismisses these fears as irrational yet me churning stomach begs otherwise. The saying claims "mind over matter" but today I'll settle for "mind over stomach" and let the matter sort itself out.
As with every departure there are tinges of bittersweet melancholy that hang over the journey like a morning mist...blending images in just the right way to muddle your mind. The Christmas season has successfully magnified those feelings in ways I've yet to experience, tinging this particular adventure with a somewhat gray pallor. My heart knows it will wash away quicker than it crept in.

Looking back

Kasia was quick to berate me on how abruptly I "ended" my trip/thoughts on the experience. I apologize for the "abrupt" ending. Now that I've had a week and two days back here in the states I still don't know what this trip has meant for me. Certainly it has granted me a much broader world perspective that I previously lacked, granting my hesitant nature a bit more courage and bravado than I once had. It allowed me to reconnect with a special person, Morgane, whom I long assumed I would never see again. Never in a million years would I have guessed the course the trip, and consequently my heart, would take me down. The multitude of coincidences and occurrences that determined the shape my adventure would take confounds me still. Whether this trip will become a catalyst in my future or just a blip in my experiences remains to be seen. The siren song of travel has captured me and consequently the odds are in the catalyst's favor.

Windsor and Wrap Up?

I don't know how to wrap all of this up. I'm on the plane from London to Toronto and I guess it is still too early to have any perspective on all that has occurred these few weeks. My only recourse is to fill you in on the last day in London-
Morgane, myself, Mark, and Emmanuelle I went to Windsor Castle and then had a traditional Sunday afternoon lunch at a Pub before heading back into London. to visit Harrods/Laduree. I was also treated to a car tour of London as we drove Mark back to his flat. He's Australian and not been in London for very long but was able to give interesting commentary on the city's sights as we drove by them. The evening as spent quietly between the sisters and I over Italian food, talking of politics and "the state of the world today." Before I knew it I was in the air on my way home, wishing I had more time.

London

My first day back in London was lazy to say the least. We stayed up too late and then had to catch early trains the next morning. Morgane's was 35 minutes or so after mine and was then delayed an 1 1/2 at the Chunnel. Once she got in it was after 11. We set off for her sister's place and spent the next few hours napping, eating lunch, and napping more before finally setting out to find a cafe. As we walked around the neighborhood (west Kensington) Morgane of course picked the one wine bar (no English Pub?!). After an hour or so we walked back to the flat where Emmanuelle (her sister) and Mark (sisters BF) were waiting on us. After the initial formalities etc we all set off for dinner at Gazette.
Saturday-
The pattern continues. Got up late, had lunch at a pub (my first fish and chips left something to be desired), then walked by Westminster Abbey (which was closed), around Parliament Sq, and past Whitehall to Trafalgar Sq where the skies opened up on us. Hustling in to the National Gallery we quickly realized that a lot of people had the same idea to take advantage of the free museum to stay dry. Despite the somewhat noisy crowd I found the gallery to be a very pleasing museum. I was able to see several masterpieces from the likes of Botticelli, All the ninja turtles (sans Donatello), Rubens, Velásquez, Goya, etc. My favorite by far was a fairly striking yet simple portrait by (to me) and unknown artist, Bartolome Esteban Murillo's portrait of Don Justino Deneve.
After strolling through the gallery for some time we decided to head towards St. Paul's. Luckily the rain had stopped and we were able to get into the Cathedral. I had bad luck with churches in London. Westminster was closed and St. Martin-in-the-fields was closed until fall for renovations, so I was 1 for 3, which wouldn't have been bad if sightseeing were baseball. After St. Paul we headed to Green Park to enjoy the "sun"--I say sun because it was periodically counter balanced by powerful gusts of wind. After sitting in the park reading, the cold became to much for my Austin bones and we headed back to the flat.
Emmanuelle and Mark had been at a tennis tournament all day and were crashed out. Morgane and I followed suit. Upon waking up I couldn't believe it was 10PM--the sun still plays tricks. We ordered Chinese food and watched a movie.