Morocco Malta and the Med: Ajaccio (Corsica) and Napoleon
Early morning arrival in Ajaccio
Breakfast at Mamsens, the small Norwegian style kiosk in the Explorer’s Lounge. We love their waffles with fruit and I especially love the golden gjetost, soft smooth and nutty.
We can see the buses lining up for our excursion. We signed up for the earliest; I like the early morning light for photos and we are docked right in town; we can leave the tour as it finishes and explore on our own. We hope we can also have lunch in Ajaccio. We’ve never been here before, and AdventureMan is a long-time appreciator of Napoleon, his strategies and tactics, who was born in Ajaccio.
Sometimes I overthink. My morning is cloudy and grey, and light flat and sullen. Ah well, we do the best we can with what we’ve got. Fortunately Viking has their nice bright red canopy and carpet to usher us off the ship and to our buses.
The light fixtures are interesting, Napoleonic crowns
Napoleon looking at AdventureMan with appreciation. 😉
The cave of Napoleon (he hid there? I don’t know the significance.)
We drove along the coastline, I never mind a coastal drive! This is some of the priciest real estate in Corsica, overlooking the sea. These are family crypts, so beautiful that families picnic, even sleep in these houses where their family members are encrypted.
We come to a rest stop, and the three island/mountains with towers on top are significant, but I can’t remember how. It is sunny now, and windy, and we appreciated the time to walk and breathe in the sea air. Their were powerful waves hitting the wharf, so it was chained so we wouldn’t walk out there.
Back in town, we exit the bus at the church where Napoleon was baptized, which is undergoing some repairs and renovations now, but they let us go in.
We are told that these are Corsican windows, special to the area because Corsicans are snoopy and into one another’s business and these windows allow snoopy women not to be seen but to keep up with the happenings in the neighborhood. I tell you this because in Malta, these same windows are reported as a Maltese invention because Maltese women are snoopy, and in Rome, of course they were a Roman invention because – well, you get the picture. I guess the women were snoopy because they were often confined to the home, and learned what they could by peeping out these screened windows?
The next church was dear to my heart, the Mariner’s church. Far less elaborate than Napoleon’s church, this church was in place to pray for those who go to sea, who fish, who are sometimes late returning, and for those who never come back. Growing up in Alaska, among fishing folk, I have a great respect for and a healthy fear of the sea. I feel at home in this beautiful, heart-felt church.
Leaving the Mariner’s Church and nearby, the Fortress and moat. And something else, can you see?
I’ve changed the angle just a bit, can you see now?
That’s our ship! We’re the only ship docked in the center of town, and you can see it from everywhere. We have no concern leaving the group when we are ready; we know how to get back to the ship before it sails.
Our guide implied that the people of Ajaccio are actually prouder of Pascal Paoli than Napoleon, and that we should be too, we Americans. Do you know who he is? Wikipedia says:
Paoli commemorated in the United States
The American Sons of Liberty movement were inspired by Paoli. Ebenezer McIntosh, a leader of the Sons of Liberty, named his son Paschal Paoli McIntosh in honour of him. In 1768, the editor of the New York Journal described Paoli as “the greatest man on earth“. Several places in the United States are named after him. These include:
- Paoli, Colorado
- Paoli, Indiana
- Paoli, Kentucky
- Paoli, Oklahoma
- Paoli, Pennsylvania, which was named after “General Paoli’s Tavern” a meeting-point of the Sons of Liberty and homage to the “General of the Corsicans”.
- Paoli, Wisconsin
Our guide told us that the first democratic constitution in the world was Paoli’s 1755 Constitution for the independent Republic of Corsica and that it was written in conjunction with with Thomas Jefferson and was directly influencial in the formation of the US Constitution.. I can find no verification of that information, but I found the following in Grunge. Hmmmm.
The American Dream is born
Emanuel Leutze
Across the Atlantic, Patriots in the Thirteen Colonies eagerly followed the Corsican War. According to the Journal of the American Revolution, Corsica’s heroism made Paoli highly respected in America, inspiring the Patriots (especially the Sons of Liberty) to push for a war of independence. William Pitt called him “a hero out of Plutarch.” According to the Colonial Society, the leader of the Boston Riots, Ebenezer Mackintosh, named his son after Pasquale. At Columbia University (then King’s College), a battalion of student volunteers of the NY militia nicknamed “the Corsicans” formed in 1775. Its most famous member? Alexander Hamilton.
Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and Wisconsin all contain towns named Paoli after that famous Corsican hero. At Paoli’s Tavern, PA, British forces defeated George Washington and Anthony Wayne. The significance of the name was surely not lost on either side. But was Paoli’s spirit present at the Old Pennsylvania State House in 1787?
According to Thomas Jefferson, he was not. The US Constitution was a purely American product, free of foreign influence. But Georges Coanet, secretary-general of the Pasquale Paoli Foundation, during a visit to Paoli, PA, noted that Paoli ran in the same Masonic circles as Benjamin Franklin and Lafayette, so they would have at least known about his constitution and ideas. It will never be certain, but given his American fame after Ponte Novu, it is certainly plausible that Paoli was at least on the minds of some of the founders during that hot Pennsylvania summer.
Read More: https://www.grunge.com/441925/the-heroic-story-of-the-island-that-inspired-the-american-revolution/
Paoli and the Bonaparte family did not get along. There’s a history. Below is the house where Napoleon was said to be born.
Lots of little shops open selling Napoleonic schlock, but it is Monday, and the Napoleonic Museum is not open.
At this central plaza, we separated from the group; I knew where the open market was and I wanted to see it. It was nearby. It was closed. No big deal, I also urgently needed to buy some mascara, and we had seen a large French department store on a main street, so we looked it up on Google and followed the blue dots until we got there. French store, lots of mascara, emergency met. As I paid at the caisse, I had to wait while a very long conversation took place between the cashier and a woman I thought to be a customer. But no, the cashier turned to me, although the other woman kept talking, and took my payment.
We are always trying to break large Euro bills so that we have small coins for bathrooms and for tips, so I broke a 100 Euro bill and as the cashier handed me the change (the mascara was not expensive so there was a lot of change) the woman was talking to me, and she was telling me she had not eaten for several days and that she was very hungry.
I am on a 23 day trip on a large ship going to wonderful places and I have a fist full of change in my hand. A part of me feels extorted, and a part of me sees me – privileged, buying a luxury, not a necessity, and with a handful of bills. I was ashamed I had even hesitated. Yes, I gave her some money to eat.
I never know when it is right or wrong, and I am sure I have been taken advantage of. In my readings, I came across this exhortation in scriptures: Matthew 5:42 Give to everyone who begs of you.
We are hungry, and we wanted to eat in Ajaccio. We find a place that looks promising, there is a local man sleeping with a glass of brandy in his hand and a dog on his lap. We take that as a promising sign. Here is another promising sign:
We love this name, liberally translated “The Hole in the Wall”
If you look very closely, you may see the sleeping man and his dog on his lap 😊
My husband orders the Entrecôte, and I order the Aioli Maison Cabillaud. It’s too much food, but it is delicious! Sorry, I ate most of my fish before I remembered to take a picture.
Here’s something interesting to me – we eat like kings. On these cruises, we eat what we wish, and we eat desserts. We are walking so much – most days 10,000 steps or more. Sometimes way more. We are so active, the weight doesn’t stick. Also, we really like vegetables and salads and seafood with lighter sauces or no sauce at all, so we don’t worry, and we don’t gain weight. Also, the desserts served on board are very small, and even so, we might split a dessert so we usually get home our same weight or – even a little less! It’s a mystery.
We walk back to the ship – we had wine with lunch and are ready for a short nap. After our nap, we head for the spa, the beautiful Viking spa with hot water pool, a snow room, a wet steam room, a dry steam room – oh what luxury.
We are back in our cabin for sunset and Sail Away, and we see a spectacular sight – it’s nearing sunset, and suddenly the starlings start flocking; they look like schools of fish in the water, same movement, a glorious, joyful dance! I looked it up. It is called a murmuration. A murmuration . . .
This must be a frequent occurrence; guns are going off all over town, and fireworks. I don’t know if it is to keep the starlings from landing or to provide everyone with this spectacle.
At sundown the Christmas lights come on!
And we sail away from Ajaccio.
Morocco Malta and The Med: Marseilles and Cassis and Calanques
It is very early morning as we approach Marseilles, so early the sun has not begun to rise. The infamous Chateau d’If, made famous in Dumas’ Count of Monte Cristo looms in the semi-darkness.
We quickly eat breakfast; we are on one of the first tours out today, to Cassis and the famous calanques. What are calanques, you might ask? Here is what the Marseille Tourism board has to say:
What are the Calanques?
A Calanque is a unique kind of geological formation made of limestone. They are big rocky coves forming a steep and narrow valley inland and are mostly found around the Mediterranean sea. Here, the Calanques National Park is a protected and highly regulated area, stretching over 20 km from Marseille to Cassis, with 26 Calanques of various sizes (25 in Marseille and 1 in Cassis). Some are easily accessible and others are a lot less, but regardless, the Calanques are an absolute must-see when you visit Marseille!
I have always loved smaller villages, especially fishing villages, having grown up in one. And it will be Sunday in Marseille, not a great day for a Marseille tour as many of the roads are closed to traffic this Sunday, only open to bicyclists and pedestrians. Great day to get out of town.
The daily question becomes what to wear? What to carry? It is cold in the mornings, but will likely warm up. We will be going out on a small boat. How small? How windy will it be? Will we have any protection? What do YOU think?
I chose a dress that is like a sweatshirt, only with a full length zipper and it has a hood. I carried a scarf as well, and a hat in a go-bag. On the boat, it was indeed cold, and windy, and I put up my hood and tied it tightly so only a small portion of my face was exposed. I suppose I looked like one of those TeleTubbies, but I was not cold.
Sights en route to Cassis:
At the beach in Cassis: “In the town, I wear clothes.” LOL it is forbidden to walk around nude or in a bathing suit.
We have time to roam while we wait for our boat ride, and the fishing boats are in with their haul. Locals (they have bags with them, too) are seeking out the freshest fish for today’s Sunday meal.
We find a table at a corner cafe where we can have a coffee and watch the world go by. A group of four elegant elderly French women settle in front of us, with great red lipstick.
One of the nicest things happened here. Another couple women from our ship settled in next to us; they had been shopping and found some great things. What I loved was the bag from the shop, and when I asked how to get there she laughed and emptied her bag and gave it to me saying she didn’t care about the bag. I love the bag!
The boat ride begins. I can’t believe how many people they got on one small boat – maybe forty people!
We saw people on beaches in swimsuits, and people swimming in the cold water! I am hardy, but this is Mid-November! I am wearing a sweatshirt dress! And my legs are cold!
A very old aqueduct / bridge:
On our way back to Marseille.
The Christmas Market opening down by the port.
Cathedrale La Major: “Huge 1800s neo-Byzantine cathedral featuring an opulent interior lined with murals, mosaic & marble.” (Google Maps)
Viking Saturn is parked right next to the Cathedral La Major.
Our view from our cabin:
Morocco Malta and the Med: Barcelona Farewell as We Board Viking Saturn
Today, we board the Viking Saturn. We have to have our bags in the hallway to go to the ship by 0700, and we have to check in with the Viking organizers to get our bus assignment. First, we have to have breakfast, us and all the other Viking passengers gathered in the hotel. There are long lines and few tables for two, so we are put together with six others at a large table, and it is fine. We discover something in common – we are all excited by the itinerary.
At this point, I want to tell you something odd. Or maybe not so much. We are just a week away from one of the most contentious elections in American history, the victor claiming a mandate with a tiny margin over his opponent, and in all my little chats with fellow passengers, it never comes up. Never. And the entire trip, 23 days, it never came up. For a year, we’ve been talking about the election. Now, nothing. Not a word. And no, I’m not about to bring it up, I just find it weird.
I needed my camera, and there were so many people waiting for the elevators, I decided to walk down. About ten stories down I thought maybe I should try the elevator, but the key card only unlocks to door to the floor your room is on, and I still have another ten plus stories to go. Oh well. I walk the entire way, find my camera, and take the view above, with the sun rising over Barcelona. Later, I pay dearly for the 23 story downstairs hike becoming acquainted with muscles I didn’t know I had.
Our bus assignment is one of the later ones to leave; they time these things so as not to overcrowd any one location with too many Viking guests. We don’t mind; our bus is only half loaded and very comfortable. As we leave, there is another motorcycle car accident outside our hotel, with all the police and emergency people.
Our first stop is at the Arc de Triomf built for the Barcelona World Fair in 1888. The Fair took place to bring some revenue into Barcelona during a desperate time but also gave the city an opportunity – and excuse – to demolish the Citadel and replace it with much-needed green spaces for Barcelona’s citizens.
I love this building, designed in the Modernisme style by Liuis Domenech i Montaner. Here is what Wikipedia tells us about him:
His buildings displayed a mixture between rationalism and fabulous ornamentation inspired by Spanish-Arabic architecture, and followed the curvilinear design typical of Art Nouveau. In the El castell dels 3 dragons restaurant in Barcelona (built for the World’s Fair in 1888), which was for many years the Zoological Museum, he applied very advanced solutions (a visible iron structure and ceramics). He later developed this style further in other buildings, such as the Palau de la Música Catalana in Barcelona (1908), where he made extensive use of mosaic, ceramics and stained glass, the Hospital de Sant Pau in Barcelona, and the Institut Pere Mata in Reus.
This is the Castle of Three Dragons!
I remember Spain used to be a country where we needed to dress modestly. It is mid-November and we are wearing long sleeves and sweaters. These lovely fitness seekers must be cold!
Parakeets!
Port of Barcelona
The highlight of the bus tour – an hour at the National Museum of Art of Catalunya. If you had your passport or something proving you were over 65, you got free entrance to the special exhibits. I had a copy of my passport page and AdventureMan’s passport page. I told the cashier we were OLD and she laughed and gave us tickets to the special exhibit I wanted to see with very early church art preserved in this museum.
I hope you find these as breathtaking as I do!
Don’t you love how little Jesus is crouched on Mary’s lap?
Our ticket also allowed us access to the Museum roof, with 360 degree views of Barcelona.
A last view of what we learned was once a bull fighting arena, which has been transformed into a Mall.
So now we are delivered to the ship, and we are starving. We quickly embark, drop our gear and head for the World Cafe, where we can find something to eat. Dan Noodles for me, with Chinese shrimp. Yummm.
This is our view, and this is our cabin.
Lots of storage space
Sail Away from Barcelona.
Dinner as we sail away
Morocco Malta and the Med, Day 2, A Nightime Adventure
Fresh from our nap and not sure where we want to eat, we head out to accomplish a small errand. I have discovered I have lost my hairbrush. This is an emergency. Brushing hair is a must do! AdventureMan is sure I have misplaced it, so I look again, and it is nowhere to be found. But how hard can it be to buy a hairbrush?
Harder than we thought. We pop into a couple grocery stores, where they have everything, everything except hair brushes. We head into the side streets, where I find a hair salon and go in to buy a hairbrush. This turned into a real comedy. They couldn’t understand me, so I spoke French, and they got the brush part they were very concerned. I finally figured out they had no appointments for me, they thought I wanted my hair brushed. I kept trying to explain. AdventureMan left to see if he could find anything, but came back and we were still trying to figure it out. Finally, they understood I wanted to buy a brush, but they didn’t have any for sale. They were so kind, and by the time we finished, the entire shop was engaged in trying to help me.
“China! China” and they pointed to the right, and then to the left. “China!”
We never found the China shop, but AdventureMan found a Pakastini shop that carried a little of everything and spoke Arabic; he just reached behind him, pulled out a brush and it was great. First problem solved.
Now, where to eat? We are not out on the main street, but these back streets are intriguing. Like this is where real people are living, buying groceries (and hairbrushes) and there are restaurants, not fancy, but we walk until AdventureMan finds one he wants to try.
We go in and find a table and ask for menus, and a table of guys drinking next to us starts raising a ruckus and looking at us. It’s hard to be a stranger.
The manager or bartender admonishes them lightly and takes our order.
I am thinking it might not be the right time to be eating, maybe it is only time for drinking and maybe little tapas until dinner time, which in Spain is a lot later. But we order, and everything seems OK.
AdventureMan orders a Fisherman’s Soup, and I order a different kind of soup, and we share a plate of grilled peppers. The soups are some of the best food we had on the trip.
I ended up with a soup that was white beans and some kind of pork, hammy pork, and vegetables. The broth was flavorful, probably had more salt than we normally use, so it was delicious. AdventureMan’s soup took the prize, though. Full of fish and shellfish, with a broth that could almost stand up, it was so strong.
If we hadn’t gone off the main road looking for a hairbrush, we would never have ended up in this little neighborhood pub place with its delicious soups!
It’s a risk. We went against conventional wisdom. The streets were darker, and smaller, and might not have been so safe – Barcelona IS a big city. The walk back to the hotel was a little bit scary, but nothing happened, and we had a small adventure and a really good local meal. As we passed the hair salon, they were still open, so I waved my hairbrush in victory, and the hairdresser came out and hugged me in joy and said something (I have no idea what,) but she was joyful with me. I call that a great adventure.
Morocco Malta and the Med: Our First Lucky Day
Everything had gone so smoothly. All our preparations, packing, the taxi driver lined up. And then, just before we are to leave home, a text from Air France, cancelling our flight with them and putting us on a Delta flight. Not a tragedy, but a disappointment; we always try to book Air France because their service is so welcoming, the food is delightful, and we just feel like the vacation starts as soon as we step aboard. So we know we will have to deal with it when we get to the airport.
We are checking in, and explain to the Delta check-in lady that we had the text, which had not yet shown up on her machine. She started poking around, and said “Mind if I make a phone call?” and we said “no, go ahead” and she talked with someone somewhere and looked at us and said “How would you like to fly directly from Atlanta to Barcelona?”
“YES!” we chimed together! We had wanted that direct flight, but Viking Air had said it was not possible. With just a few flicks of her fingers on the keys, it was entirely possible. Wow! We were blown away. We would get in several hours earlier than we had thought; more time in Barcelona!
What we didn’t know at the time was that we would not be sitting together, but it didn’t matter. We had a great flight, got some sleep and landed hours early in Barcelona.
For some reason, the bags took forever to get from the plane to the baggage delivery, like a full hour. We picked up my bag (AdventureMan did his entire trip out of his carry-on and backpack) and headed out to meet up with the Viking transport.
Two people with clipboards looked for our names – and we were not there! Finally a third person said “Oh! I’ve been looking for you; you are on our bus and we are leaving now!” so we went with a very small group to the bus. It was a small bus, filled mostly with elderly passengers with mobility issues, and us. We got to the Nobu hotel very quickly, and checked in.
“We’ve given you a very large room,” the porter said, and it was. We had a large sleeping area, a separate sunny sitting room, a dressing room/office, and a generous bathroom. It felt very spacious.
We settled in, took a brief rest, then headed out to get to know our neighborhood. AdventureMan had spotted a circular something, a mall, on the map near the Plaza d’Espana and wanted to go see what it was. I was actually not enthusiastic, but once we got walking I perked up and was glad for the exercise and the fresh air.
This was the circular “thing” on the map, and it was a mall, it had an elevator to the top, and we later learned that it was once a bullfighting arena, turned into a mall after years of neglect. They really did a great job; this was a fun place to explore.
We never felt unsafe on this trip. In Barcelona, police and emergency people were everywhere. This was a car and motorcycle collision, and they were there within minutes.
This is the arena / mall, and the round thing is the elevator to the top floor. As we were digging for change to pay for the trip we spotted a sign that said something like over 65 is free. There was a couple in front of us (I think also American) who were trying to insist on paying, so she just waived us through and continued trying to explain to them that they could go for free while we went straight to the top.
Inside the mall, things were happening. There were all kinds of stores you would find very familiar – American food chains and coffee shops. The place was packed with young people having something quick and fried at the end of the day. These kids were playing some kind of game where you step on clouds that form and reform in some kind of computer-generated way.
At the top, you could walk entirely around the whole arena, viewing the whole city. In the center of the circle were all kinds of restaurants. First, we had a great view of the Plaza d’Espana.
Just behind the very tall blue building in the center is the Nobu Hotel. To the left, off the busy main street, are quiet, bustling side streets we also got to explore.
Sagrada Familia is continuously under construction. Every time we visit, the date for completion has slipped further into the future.
I love seeing how people live. Imagine having this penthouse apartment with this little lap pool high above the city.
What tourism people will tell you is that Mount Tibidabo is an amusement park, but I can’t wait to get back to Barcelona and to visit this place – the tower on the right is part of the early Barcelona water system, and is supposed to be elegantly beautiful as well as functional. Guides in the area tell us that the church can be visited for free, and the art inside is stunningly beautiful, and the views from the top of the church – yes, you can go up there – encompass all of Barcelona, and too, are stunning. Worth a trip. (So many good reasons to visit Barcelona.)
We walked right by this park going to the arena and returning to our hotel, a park with installations by Miro’!
This is what the walking path on the top of the arena looks like, and on our right is the top of the elevator from base to top. To the left you see a couple of the restaurants – there are many – at the top.
So it’s 4:30 in the afternoon and we are starving and tired. While normally we shun touristic places, tonight we are ready for any port in the storm. We find A BrassaMe (I haven’t a clue what that means) which is open and already serving people, and they welcome us inside. And they have wine, and a view of the setting sun.
We are surprised most of the customers are Spanish and maybe local. Our waiter is very kind. We ask him to help us with choosing a good wine. We know we want to try some of the common tapas – bread with tomato, patatas bravas, I want to try fidua, a noodly disk kind of like paella, and he suggests a couple others, one a “bombe” (a potato filled with highly spiced ground meat) and something which we cannot identify but we think might be a deep fried fish of some kind. Doesn’t matter. It was a lot of fun, we ordered way too much food and it didn’t cost near what we pay in Pensacola for far less.
Bear with me, interiors interest me. I love the way this restaurant has capitalized on the view and the sunset. I love the sort of Miro-esque pipes in the ceiling.
I like the quiet elegant seclusion of this private dining room.
I love this bathroom. In modest, modern Spain, none of this silliness about bathrooms. Adults share the same room, doors are marked sort of ambiguously and people use whichever is free. How very grown up.
Our waiter is from Argentina, came here to find work and loves his life in Barcelona.
This is found everywhere – bread with tomato. He tells us that everything has to go on in a particular order.
This was the delicious spicy bombe.
These are another Spanish favorite, Patatas Bravas, kind of deep fried potatoes with tomato sauce or garlic sauce.
We’re pretty sure this was fish. Have you noticed how much food there is? We thought tapas were SMALL plates. We never saw a small plate of tapas in Spain.
I really liked this – Fidua. It’s kind of like rice-a-roni, little thin noodles cooked in a seafood broth, so tasty and delicious.
l love sunsets and sunrises and am more than a little uneasy about the sulphuric haze we found in most Mediterranean seaports.
Well-fed and well-wined, we rolled our way back to the hotel and managed showers before we fell, exhausted, into bed after a day full of good surprises. We slept straight through to morning.
Morocco, Malta and the Mediterranean: Another Great Adventure
We thought we were done with cruising (this happens a lot) when suddenly this trip popped up on Viking’s new itineraries. We waited only two days, and called to reserve. The cabin area we want was already almost sold out! We got the last cabin, not the normal cabin we reserve, and felt lucky to get it. I checked the cabin catagories; the ship was almost entirely sold out.
Algiers. Malta. Ajaccio. Places we had never been before. It got our hearts racing.
We tried something new; for Barcelona, we booked a tour through Viator to visit the hillside Monastery of Monserrat. For Tunis, where we lived so many years ago, we booked through Tours for Locals, so that we could have a personalized visit to see things that mattered to us. We paid in advance – like more than a year in advance.
We are cautious with our money, so this was a little scary for us. Booking private tours in expensive. Between booking and implementing, a lot can happen. And what if the guides don’t show up??? What is your fallback? By faith, we bit that bullet and it worked out great for us.
It was also a long trip with 23 days total and various climates, so I did not believe I could do it with a carry-on. I used a bigger suitcase, again, by faith, and checked it. We never had a problem, and I was thankful to have a variety of clothing appropriate to the cultures and climate.
This trip took place from mid-November to early December. Today, AdventureMan asked me how I wanted to spend the weekend, and I said “I want to write up the trip for the blog.” In between getting home and now, I had to get Christmas decorations up, bake Christmas dishes, do Christmas Eve dinner, Christmas Day brunch, deal with having norovirus (me, just before Christmas), deal with AdventureMan having norovirus (shortly after Christmas, and with AdventureMan getting a papercut that turned into a severe infection with heavy duty antibiotics. Take Christmas down. Oh, and jury duty. And welcome the New Year with friends.
We are just now getting back to normal. At the end of this month, we start a major bath reconstruction that will disrupt us for six to eight weeks. Now is the time 😊.
What Love Looks Like at 76
I’m on my way down to restock the Little Free Library and pass AdventureMan, who always asks me why I love him. It’s hard to keep it fresh. It’s hard to find new answers to that question, but this time, it’s right there in front of me.
“Who likes to clean out the litter box?” I ask. He looks puzzled.
“No-one!” I answer my own question, but I continue “I love you because you clean out the litter box in hot humid weather, even when you don’t want to, and give the cats a nice clean place to poop! I love you because you do it faithfully, and I don’t have to do it! It’s not romantic, but I consider it TRUE LOVE!”
It makes him laugh. I am not the romantic young bride he met in Heidelberg and married six weeks later. I am pragmatic and grounded. I know what matters.
We have always had cats. I used to do the litter boxes, and when I got pregnant, he took it over because pregnant women can get a disease that can infect the baby. Around when our son turned 18 he had a perplexed look on his face and asked me “just how long after the baby is born can you scoop litter again?” and we both laughed.
True love is bigger than diamonds or white roses or wonderful perfume. True love is scooping the cat litter and cleaning out the litter boxes. Thank you, AdventureMan.
A Bientôt Paris!
We have a family joke – I have an alarm on my phone; I find it very gentle, it is called “Twinkle” and sounds like little stars coming out. That’s how it sounds to me. I use it all the time, and my husband will yell “Time to hustle the bags out to the car!” He hates Twinkle, it reminds him of all our very early morning scrambles to get to the airport, turn in our rental car, lug our baggage to check-in, and all that jazz.
We have an early flight, so when we hear Twinkle, we are up and ready. Our bags are packed. We might wait for a baggage person, but it is 4:45 a.m and our car is due at 5:00 so we take our own bags down (I am proud; I have lived this entire trip out of one carry-on suitcase and one personal item/bag.)
We did the right thing. We awakened the baggage person and the desk clerk; I don’t think they would have awakened us or come for our bags. Our car showed up exactly on time (a Mercedes this time, thank you Tauck, but not a Tesla) and we got to the airport in record time.
We got to the airport and went to line up at Air France and a beautiful airport Air France person asked to see our tickets, and said “Oh! You are on our partner, Delta! Not here! I invite you to walk just over there and you can arrange for your flight!”
So French! Not to be directed, not to be told, but to be INVITED to go elsewhere. We loved it.
We checked our bags, full of dirty laundry, who cares if they don’t show up on time? And we headed to the Air France lounge, which evidently IS a part of the partnership, even if we have to check in elsewhere.
The Air France lounge is huge. The buffet is lavish. The drinks are set out and available at oh-dark-hundred in the morning. There are even showers, if I needed another shower.
We boarded on time, but our flight was late leaving because while boarding, one of the passengers tripped and fell and had to be taken to the hospital, which also required his bags be removed, and it all took time. They made up most of the time, we got to Atlanta in time to catch our Pensacola flight and our son was at the airport to transport us home.
You know me. I’m a happy kind of person. I had a great time; this trip was perfect. I wept. I didn’t want it to end, and I didn’t want to leave France.
Paris, Le Train Bleu, and Adieu
We have just enough time when we get back to the Napoleon Hotel to wash up and head right back out again to catch the Metro to Le Gare du Lyon where we have a reservation for lunch at Le Train Bleu. This is where those Navigo Easy Pass cards come in so handy – no stopping to buy tickets, we already have trips loaded on our cards.
We have noticed some changes – look at this metro car – can you see how clean it is? This is not the metro I remember. I never saw a busker, not a singer, not a violin player. The French, except for one snooty shoe saleswoman, were infallibly polite and welcoming. People who waited on us in restaurants, even waiting on people with children, were patient and kind. We wondered if there had been a campaign to train people in preparation for the Olympics?
We don’t like to be late, so we often arrive too early. Never mind, there are always things to look at, and this train station, Le Gare du Lyon, is full of interesting sights and people.
One group of well-dressed, attractive young women were handing people something – religious tracts? bracelets? something for “free” but they also wanted to talk, and we could tell that the talk was about making a donation. We had heard of this technique, but this was the only time we saw it happen. We think maybe the heavy police presence in Paris has deterred a certain amount of begging and scamming, maybe even the pick-pocketing.
AdventureMan is hungry; he checks at Le Train Bleu to see if we can get in a little earlier than our reservation, and the answer is a very gracious “Yes!” We love the location of our table, on the side of the restaurant looking out, but with a good view of the entire (huge) restaurant.
I knew what I wanted РPat̩ to start, and a salad for my main course. AdventureMan also had the pat̩ and then a fish, with a sauce.
It was a lovely celebratory meal, in a glorious location. Well done, AdventureMan!
We wandered back to the hotel, repacked our bags for the following day, napped a little, and then had another small supper at Chez Barbara’s.
Farewell Tauck Ms. Sapphire, A Bientôt ma Famille
When we awaken, we are in Paris. I didn’t know we would be gathering for breakfast, but breakfast was one of our favorite meals and we did. AdventureMan wanted one last fresh squeezed orange juice and croissant, and N wanted one more cinnamon waffle with whipped cream. I had, I am not kidding, French Toast, also with whipped cream, a luxury I never allow myself in “real life.”
And while we ate really well this entire trip, when I get home, I find I have been so busy that I didn’t gain weight, I lost weight. I need to spend more time in France.
We gather in the lounge after our bags are packed and left in the hallway to be picked up. The good thing is that we can see the bags in the desk area, so we know they are tagged and will be safely delivered to our transportation.
We are tied up on the outside, next to another boat. To get to our rides we will go out the door, up the stairs, across the deck, down the stairs and down the gangplank. You can see the lights of other ship through the windows.
Our transportation comes, and we say farewell and head our separate ways, sadly, because this has been a great trip and we hate for it to end.
Our son and his family head to the airport for their flight. AdventureMan and I head back to the Napoleon Hotel, to catch up with ourselves and to have a combination 51st wedding anniversary and trip celebration dinner at a restaurant my husband found online and fell in love with.
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