Tauck Treats: A Day of Amazement in Paris
Sunrise over the Seine, and yes, that is the Eifel Tower and it is another glorious (and hot) day. We are still jet lagging, which means getting up early is easy.
It is wonderful to have a grandson who has a good eye with a camera.
The area where we are docked is modern, with businesses, apartment blocks, a little industrial, and – we are right by a beautiful park with an air balloon, convenient to a train station just steps away on a major line that can take us anywhere we want to go (K discovered this yesterday and shares with us) and we are sleeping on the Seine with a view of the Eifel tower. For me, it just never fails to thrill.
Tauck Treats. Today is a day like no other, for me. Today, I just do what I’m told, go where I am taken and I don’t have to make things happen, just be fully present. I love it. Tauck doesn’t tell you everything you’re going to do; it is a mystery, a treat when it happens. One of today’s treats is that they are giving us Euros to find where we want to eat. The amount is generous, and some are choosing to eat street food and spend the rest on souvenirs.
One surprise is that we are on a smaller, private Bateau Mouche. This is really fun! We are doing the same trip, only one way; we board right next to our ship and will get off at Ile de la Cite’.
I love his bird’s eye view – I wonder if he has to walk up all those flights carrying his groceries? Maybe they have retrofitted an elevator?
We arrive; the normal toilets are blocked off with the upcoming Olympics, so Tauck makes a deal with a local store to let us use their restroom – a familiar store on the Left Bank (Subway.)
It’s a long line, but serendipitous – we start to meet our cruising mates. Here is one of the unexpected blessings. The cruise is full of families of all shapes and kinds. Some are celebrating, and some are grieving and overcoming losses. Some are traditional and some are not. The families are formulated all different ways with one thing in common – they love their children and grandchildren, and the trip is a wonderful way to spend time together. We all have a lot in common, no matter what our differences might be.
We are in the group that starts with the Citroyen Tour, and we have to be a party of three so we ask to take N with us – she is a lot of fun.
We arrived back at the meeting point to discover our other three family members had not been able to go, they were one car short! We agreed to take N on the next activity, and then split up for lunch, agreeing to meet in an hour.
We walked a short way into the Left Bank and found a place to eat that sang to our souls.
Our time in Paris is short; we are happy to make the most of it!
Pork with sauce, frites, and salad
Steak frites and salad
I forgot to take pictures of the chocolate mousse!
Across the street was a very beautiful small church, Sainte Severin. As we stood outside looking at it, the waiter ran after us carrying my husband’s “go bag” with our maps and water jugs. He was so kind and went to a lot of trouble to catch us.
We meet up with our family, grab N and head for our group meet-up.
We love Paris. We’ve spent a lot of time in Paris. AdventureMan and I agree that our next experience blows us out of the water. It is thrilling, and it brings history to life in an intense way – you are a participant!
It is called Eternelle Notre Dame.
If someone told you that you would experience the history of Notre Dame Cathedral, you might go ho-hum. I did.
We were guided downstairs to what I am told used to be an underground parking lot, now a museum and virtual reality area. N went with a couple of her friends, and we were right behind her. You only “see” the persons in your group, but others appear, and we always know which one was N, so we felt comfortable that she was safe.
We were suited up with a backpack thing and helmet, including goggles that covered our entire upper faces. It felt a little creepy but I was curious enough to endure it.
And then the adventure begins! Your medieval guide appears and gives you instructions. You see a path and you follow it, or if you do not, you wait for instruction. Sounds simple enough, right? At the beginning, it is.
You are surrounded by medieval Paris. You meet the craftsmen and watch them work. They are just beginning to build the cathedral.
Now I will stop telling you about the experience or I may tell you too much. Perhaps I am too suggestible. My husband said I nearly gripped his hand off! There were times I could NOT move forward, I was so afraid. I knew this was make-believe, but my lying eyes told me otherwise. Once, I groaned aloud!
It was one of the most memorable, intense Paris experiences I have ever had, and I feel like I was there, all the many years they spent building the cathedral. I had no idea! When I can re-visit the real Notre Dame of Paris, it will be with new eyes and new appreciation!
(I screenshotted these images off TripAdvisor, which sells tickets for this visit.)
N had a great time, too. We met up with her parents and then parted company. Here is the truth – sometimes we are bad examples to our grandchildren. We skipped the walk. We told the guide we knew how to return to the ship, and we went to a cafe to sit and talk about our Eternelle Notre Dame experience. What was really fun was that the walking group went by and we waved at our family from our cafe’ table.
We had an iced lemon drink, leisurely found our way to the metro/train station, and caught the train to Javel. It was a short walk to the ship, where we met up for a lively dinner.
Boarding the Ms. Sapphire
The ride to the pier took us through a part of town we hadn’t visited this trip, and in no time we were boarding the Ms. Sapphire. While we settled in, K took off to do some quick shopping; she is familiar with Paris and it was smart of her to grab some time where she could find it. Orientation would be at 5 and dinner at 6, so we unpacked and explored our new surroundings.
The curtains are closed because we are tied up next to another ship, AND because it is still really hot in Paris. And yes, it is temporarily chaotic while we get our clothes hung in the closet and our bags stowed, have a little patience!
We had packed just enough to get us through the trip; we had so much more space than we needed. In this bathroom, every mirror has a cupboard behind it, and there are additional electrical sockets in the little cupboards. The shower is luxuriously spacious.
We all got oriented, heard the plan for the next day (Classic Citroen Car Tour, a virtual tour through the ages of Notre Dame under construction, and a walking tour of the Left Bank, whew, and lunch on the Left Bank, yay!) and sat down to dinner. We were ushered to a lovely table for six, and spent most of the trip sitting at that table.
It takes a special crew to be so good with a wide range of ages. The waitstaff was excellent. Our primary waiter, Peter, was good at explaining how things worked and helping us find our way through it. No, they made explicit, French law would not allow serving wine to anyone under 18. You could order a starter, a main course, and a dessert, or three starters, or just a main course or even just dessert, which is up to you. They had wonderful desserts, and an ice cream stand in the back where any combination of ice cream and sauces was possible. Just how good can it get? They kept adult wine glasses filled unless you firmly said no.
It’s a new culture, new foods, and also familiar foods, up to you. The young people learned customs and etiquette very quickly. Yes, you can get your Caesar salad WITHOUT anchovies. (I love anchovies, and it’s how Caesar salads come in France, wooo hooo!) There are several choices at each meal and at least two soups from which to choose. Portions are normal-sized, and you can get more if you need (lots of teenage boys on board.) There is also a buffet with lots of favorites for American young people.
Just after dinner, our son’s family took off for the Eifel Tower to take one last stab at going up.
Success! Although it is close to 10:00 at night, there remains enough daylight to climb up and enjoy the view!
Bravo to parents who help their children achieve their goals!
Climb the Arch, Lunch at Cafe de Paris
This is a really fun day. We gather in the dining room for breakfast, and all around us we can see other families gathering. I wonder who is on the trip with us?
After breakfast, AdventureMan takes Q and N on a great adventure, climbing to the top of the Arch of Triumph.
Direct quote from Baba (aka AdventureMan)”Made it, calves burning, heart racing.”
Their view from the Arch:
Everyone arrives back at the hotel around the same time. Mom and Dad have not had any luck with tickets, but they have a plan. We decide to have a nice lunch in Paris before we board the bus to take us to the ship. The bags have gone ahead and we will see them again on board the Ms. Sapphire.
Lunch at the Cafe de Paris was great. The waiters were wonderful with the children, explaining everything. Yes, N could have her Ceasar salad WITHOUT the anchovies. Yes, the steak frites came with fries. Yes to everything – what is not to love?
On A Mission: Target Eifel Tower
In preparation for this trip, we had several family meetings to put together activities and priorities. Each one of us came up with one “Must” (mine was wandering in the Marais – Mission Accomplished!) so that we had some focus. My granddaughter, N, wanted to go to the top of the Eifel Tower.
We started working on access to the tower months before we departed Pensacola. Tickets were not available. Ticket scalpers had begun scooping up access tickets early in the game and selling them for exaggerated prices. This made life uncomfortable for tours and guides and independent tourists. N’s mother and I would check the official website often, with no luck.
N’s mother is a determined woman – and she lived in a Paris suburb where she taught English for a year, how is that for bold? She determined that accessing the tower would be the number one goal on Day One. Once the family had rested, showered and dressed, they took off to find out what access possibilities looked like on the ground.
They learned it is all luck, but that there are some times when access is likelier than other times. Meanwhile, they had a wonderful adventure and found a Kebab restaurant they all loved.
AdventureMan and I also found a restaurant we loved, Chez Barbara, just a short walk from our hotel. We loved it so much we ate there twice. As an aside, usually I take great notes to help me write up these trips, but when I went to look at my notes, the only notes I had were the Menu from Chez Barbara!
Chez Barbara
47 Rue Washington
75008 Paris France
Menu at Chez Barbara
ENTRÉES
Escargots – 6 pièces 10.00€
Croustillant de chèvre sur salade 8.00€
Carpaccio de bœuf fromage dur et câpres 10.00€
Melon et Jambon Serrano 10.00€
Burrata sauce pesto tomates 10.00€
PLATS
Croque Mr frites ou salades 13.00€
Croque Mme frites ou salades 14.00€
Burger ‘Chez Barbara’ frites 17.00€
Salade italienne 16.00€
Salade, tomates, artichauts, burrata, jambon sec
Salade de croustillant de chèvre chaud 16.00€
Fish & chips 19.00€
Mi-cuit de thon au sésame et purée 19.00€
Bœuf bourguignon (Black Angus) purée de pommes de terre 19.00€
Cuisse de canard confit purée de pdt 19.00€
Tartare de bœuf frites & salade 19.00€
Entrecôte grillée sauce au poivre frites 22.00€
DESSERTS
Crème brulée 8.00€
Tarte tatin, crème fraîche ou glace vanille 8.00€
Fondant au chocolat crème anglaise 7.00€
Baba au rhum 9.00€
SNACK
Tapenade des olives 6.00€
Grissini et Jambon Serrano 7.00€
Assiette de frites 5.00€
Assiette de charcuteries 12.00€
Assiette de fromage 9.00€
Croque Mr frites 13.00€l
I share this with you so you can see the prices, which we found quite reasonable. Wines, beer, and liquors also seemed reasonable – this is downtown Paris, a block from the Champs Elysees’.
What drew us to Chez Barbara was the menu – very down to earth French foods – and then the atmosphere. This was not a snooty restaurant. It was a local restaurant. In the outside seating area, a local sports team was meeting (heavy on beer and french fries) and a girl met up with a man who looked like her father, and they had a plate of french fries and a plate of cold cuts, which they shared, and several glasses of wine. A friendly Australian who worked as a day laborer offered to translate but we told him we were OK, and thanked him for his offer. There was a television and a small bar.
It was also another very hot evening, and we were jet-lagging. We split an Italian salad and a Beouf Bourguignon, and we drank a red Bordeaux. It was a great evening.
Police presence was heavy. As we ate (again, the windows to the street collapsed to the side, we were entirely part of the outdoors) several police cars came by nee-ner, nee-ner, and on the way back to the hotel we saw a person being ticketed for stopping. It was a chauffeur, waiting for a family dining at Cafe’ de Paris.
True confession: AdventureMan was very angry with me for photographing the police in action. He was right. I was probably not supposed to do that. Sometimes I take unnecessary risks. Don’t do what I do!
We linked up with our family who were eager to get to bed, get a good night’s sleep, and AdventureMan made plans for the next day to hike up to the top of the Arch with the grands while Mom and Dad sought to get those elusive tickets to climb the tower.
Tauck Tours Family Seine Trip: Not a Single Glitch (!)
By now, you know me. I don’t scare easily. This trip scared me.
We’ve traveled before as a family – you’ve gone with us, to New Orleans, to Seattle, to the beach and family Thanksgivings. We get along. We have fun together.
Taking a family to a foreign country, with a foreign language, different customs, different foods, and different modes of transportation is not for the faint-hearted. When it comes to trying to figure out all the moving pieces, I anguished. And then, bless his wonderful heart, AdventureMan said “what if we throw money at the problem?” As soon as he said that, I knew what to do.
We called Tauck Tours.
We’ve only traveled with Tauck once before, to visit the Christmas Markets On the Rhine, in 2018. It was a truly great trip. They took care of every little detail. We don’t always need that kind of hand-holding, but this time, I did.
Here is a truth about me that has just never come up in this blog before – I am not that great with entertaining children. I am great at rocking a baby, or soothing a toddler, or talking over problems with pre-teens. Thank God for AdventureMan; he can make babies laugh, can speak toddler to a toddler and organizes game days our teen grandchildren love. AdventureMan is wonderful with youth. He volunteers with local schools. I volunteer behind the scenes, creating rosters, working financial matters, raising money for worthy causes. Yes. I don’t look it, but I am shy. And mostly quiet.
Tauck Tours Family Seine Trip to the rescue! As soon as the dates for this trip came out, we booked. We took care of air travel, and when we landed, Tauck took over. This is our ride to the Hotel.
I had never ridden in a Tesla before. I loved it.
Teachers waiting to get their children across to the Park.
Tauck had put us at the Napoleon Hotel; coincidentally, Napoleon is one of AdventureMan’s historical favorite generals. It felt like a good omen, and upon arrival, we loved it. First, we loved the location, with a view of both the Arch of Triumph and the Eifel Tower. We loved that just steps away was an entry to one of the best Metro interchanges in Paris. We loved that it was surrounded by sweet restaurants, something for everybody. I loved that it had great air conditioning. I was delighted that it was a 7-minute walk to my favorite shoe store, Arche. At first, I was not a fan of our room, with a view of a courtyard, but I do like to sleep, and we slept wonderfully in this quiet, peaceful room.
Paris was hot and sticky. We were hot and sticky. We showered. We took a quick nap and then we were eager to get out and enjoy a little Paris.
“Mom, That is Very Bold”
He looked troubled. He knows living here is one of the reddest counties in one of the reddest states in the country, a sign like this could invite trouble.
“I’ve had the sign for weeks; I was afraid to put it out.” What I didn’t say is that this is Florida. People express themselves in ways I find unacceptable, like shooting at your house, or at the very least, stealing signs that express an opinion they don’t like. I didn’t have to say it. He deals with it every day.
You might think that sign means I am pro-abortion. I am not. I believe abortion is a last, desperate resort. And it is a remedy I want women to have – I want women to make decisions for their own bodies. Not men. Not a legislature. Not a governor.
It was a shock when we amassed enough signatures to get this initiative on the November ballot, not only enough, but way more than enough. The people of Florida want to vote on this and be a part of the decision-making. Right now in Florida, there is a six-week deadline on the pregnancy, during which a person might get an abortion – but that assumes the person realizes she is pregnant and can process and make a decision in that very short time.
Statistics show that since the states began limiting abortions, the number of abortions actually rose. Go figure?
No woman chooses abortion lightly. It is a medical procedure. It costs money. It takes time. It is uncomfortable. Women only choose abortion when the alternatives are unthinkable. Not having the right to choose doesn’t stop abortion, it only makes it a greater burden on women.
So I planted my sign and I hope for the best. I have found that in this very conservative neck of the woods, there are many like-minded people who of necessity keep their heads down. I want them to feel a ray of hope when they see my sign, and maybe, maybe along with voting for Proposition Four, they might even put a sign in their own yards, help others register to vote, or help transport voters to the polls in November.
EUPHROSYNE/SMARAGDUS OF ALEXANDRIA
MONASTIC, 5TH c.
The prayer in today’s Lectionary is dear to my heart:
PRAYER (contemporary language)
Merciful God, who looks not with outward eyes but discerns the heart of each: we confess that those whom we love the most are often strangers to us. Give to all parents and children, we pray, the grace to see one another as they truly are and as you have called them to be. All this we ask in the name of Jesus Christ, our only mediator and advocate. Amen.
Saint Euphrosyne of Alexandria (fl. 5th century CE) was a female saint who adopted male attire and lived at a local monastery as an ascetic.
Euphrosyne was the beloved only daughter of Paphnutius, a rich man of Alexandria, miraculously born in her parents’ old age in answer to a monk’s prayer. Her loving father desired to marry her to a wealthy youth.
But having already consecrated her life to God and under pressure to break her vow, she dressed as a man and assumed the identity of “Smaragdus” (“emerald”). She then escaped to a nearby men’s monastery, where she made rapid strides toward a perfected ascetic life. She was under the guidance of the abbot, who also happened to be the same monk who had prayed for her birth.
Years later, when Paphnutius appealed to the abbot for comfort in his bereavement, the abbot committed him to the care of Euphrosyne, still under the guise of Smaragdus. Paphnutius received from his own daughter, whom he had failed to recognize, helpful advice and comforting exhortation. Not until she was dying did Euphrosyne reveal herself to him as his lost daughter. After burying her, Paphnutius gave up all his worldly goods, and became a monk in the same monastery. There, he used his daughter’s old cell until his own death ten years after.
from Wikipedia
I want to be in Venice, too!
We are getting ready to take a journey to a whole new set of petroglyphs, so I have activated a new AirTag. I love these things. I am taking a checked bag this time, for a stop in Denver where I will initiate my niece’s twins into the art of quilting. Just basic stuff, rotary cutting and beginning piecing, and the idea of a quilt. I’ve had a lot of fun planning this, and I have a suitcase full of resources for their exploration.
The set-up is so easy that a technologically impaired elder can do it in under a minute. How cool is that?
So as I set up, I also checked on independent AirTag, the one that disappeared in Barcelona, traveled the Med, crossed the Atlantic, went up the Amazon and crossed back the Atlantic to Barcelona and is now in Venice. Venice! I love Venice. AdventureMan loves Venice. We find Venice endlessly interesting.
And the Villa del Geologia. Wow. I don’t think I even knew it existed. I love that this little AirTag has this fascinating life of its own.
We are taking our son and his family on a trip next year, and I think I will gift them AirTags, for their luggage, for their backpacks, maybe even for their kids. How handy it would be to be able to keep track of all the individuals traveling together as they scattered out in an airport! Of course, you have to get their consent, otherwise, as the instructions tell you, it would be stalking, and against the law.
The Great Sea Voyage: Barcelona to Abu Dhabi
So, my friends, I promised you a new trip, and I apologize for making you wait. We got back just in time to step back into our normal Pensacola routines and then to whirl into the celebrations of Christmas. I like to plan, I like to execute, and I like to give myself time to process. It’s time to begin.
We chose this trip three years ago. We loved the destinations, and we loved the idea of this journey, especially going through the Suez Canal. We love the idea of visiting new places, and we loved the opportunity to revisit some old favorites, especially Wadi Rum, in Jordan, where we lived in another life.
The trip itself took three weeks. We went early to Barcelona. I had been to Barcelona for an international quilt show years ago and loved it; I’ve been so eager for AdventureMan to experience the aliveness of Barcelona. We chose to go a few days early to enjoy the city.
We were traveling with Oceania, a line we haven’t sailed with before. People handle air reservations differently; we choose to let the cruise line set up the travel so that if there are changes (and in the last three years we saw lots of changes) the cruise line is ultimately responsible for getting us where we need to go.
It’s tough giving up our autonomy. This time, it was a struggle, and we finally paid extra for “custom” reservations when they kept offering us bizarre routes we didn’t want to take. At one point, we had reservations that were direct, and we liked, and then they changed, again, because of an airline time change, and we found the new ones unacceptable. At some point, we gave up. We accepted a bizarre routing and the fact that we were responsible for getting ourselves to Atlanta and back, not such a big deal, except for when things change. Right?
This is how we were routed to Barcelona: (Pensacola) – Atlanta – Detroit – Paris – Barcelona.
And here are the bags I took, except at the last minute I took everything out of the backpack and put it in a duffel, not much bigger but the space was more flexible.
We decided to go minimal and to carry everything with us. It caused a lot of agonizing, but in the end, I had everything I needed. It was enough. I think carry-on is a great idea, except it is such a hassle, I like the luxury of checking a bag and carrying a purse and a book. Having had bags go missing so many times in my life (they always caught up with us – eventually), we opted for this illusion of control.
Our first travel day was, in almost every way, a breeze. Our son picked us up on his way to work and dropped us at the airport, giving us time for a leisurely breakfast after an uneventful check-in. The flight schedule was eccentric, even convoluted, but every flight left on time and came in minutes early. Our last two flights of the day were with Air France and were delightful.
Getting to Barcelona took almost two days. We flew from Pensacola to Atlanta on our dime and picked up our cruise-related reservations in Atlanta. We checked in and had time for lunch at PF Changs. Out of Atlanta, we flew to Detroit – I’d never been to Detroit before. I had never seen a Great Lake in person. I was blown away by the vastness of Lake Erie and Lake Superior – so HUGE. I thought of Detroit and its terrible water problem and crumbling infrastructure, surrounded by water, and it seemed so infinitely sad.
Our flight out of Detroit was an Air France flight – we love Air France. Once we board an Air France, the vacation begins – they take such good of their passengers.
We had a late dinner on board; Air France does a really cool thing. They serve an appetizer course, an entree, a dessert, and drinks. They also have an express meal which is just the appetizer, bread (with French butter, better than butter I have had anywhere else), and desserts, and the dessert course features really tiny tastes. We chose the express, and then curled up and went to sleep.
I usually sleep badly on planes, but on this flight, it was all grown-ups and somehow it was mostly very quiet. I remember vaguely hearing a bell once when the air got a little turbulent, but it only awakened me slightly and I went back to sleep. My quick breakfast was yogurt and fruit and coffee, and boom, we were at Charles de Gaulle.
Big difference from prior times. While we love Air France, we always dreaded the bag drag through CdG. In years past, there were crowds pushing and snaking for hours, people pushing in line, people crying that they were going to miss their flight – it was a kind of purgatory for travelers. This time, however, it was streamlined, a piece of cake. We had a close connection, which we made with time to spare.
On the flight to Barcelona, we had a snack meal, and AdventureMan had wine, I had coffee. I asked for more, and Sophia, our flight attendant said “Oh, you like my coffee?” and I said “yes!” because it was really good. Then AdventureMan said “And I really like this wine” and she brought him a small bottle of white wine to take with him, then turned to me and said “And which wine would you like? White? Red?” and I chose a red Bordeaux, the start of our cabin collection since we don’t buy the ships drink package, but pay as we go.
We found the Oceania representative waiting outside the immigration door, and very shortly, she had us taken to our hotel with Ingrid and Juanita, who had also been on our flight. We heard Ingrid speaking harshly to Juanita, and Ingrid caught our exchanged glance and said “Oh I’m just bossy. Juanita is 92 and I have to keep her organized.”
While Juanita was toting two large bags, she might have a hearing problem and might need Ingrid’s explanations and organizing. I was amazed at how strong Juanita was.
This is a longer trip than we usually take, with a variety of temperatures. I have a small carry-on suitcase and a small duffel. They were not stuffed. Our airports are huge, however, and when you have to tote two bags from gate to gate, even take trains or underground trams and still walk a long way, those bags can get heavy. I told AdventureMan that it is different when we go West and wear jeans and casual clothes all the time and no one cares, a cruise ship is a different situation. If our future is carry-on, we will need to go on shorter cruises.
The upside is you just whiz through customs – no waiting around at the baggage carousel. So I like the carry-on idea, I just don’t like the reality of toting bags.
The limousine driver was kind and helpful and gave us lots of good information on the way to our hotel, the Hotel Barcelona Almanac.
“Has Your Wardrobe Changed?”
I was on my hands and knees, sandwiching two new quilts when AdventureMan seated himself near me and asked if he should take his grey-green pants on the upcoming trip. With all the baggage insecurity going around, we’ve made a decision to take a carry-on bag and one personal item, and skip checked luggage altogether.
Being the kind of person who used to over-study for tests, this is causing me some anxiety. I told him that the pants did not coordinate with enough of his wardrobe to make them useful, to stick with the tried-and-true khakis which used to be his staple, and his blue jeans, which will get him through some of the more rugged places.
More than once, we’ve had luggage go missing. It always caught up with us, but once – in Lusaka, we were headed out into the bush the next day and had only our traveling clothes and night clothes – and, thank God, some shoes. We grabbed a taxi and found a street mall with a combination grocery and department store, stocked with camo and green clothing from China which was more or less apropos. We couldn’t be choosy, and we were thankful to find something that would get us through until, we hoped, our baggage showed up. I still love the thick green socks I found; they have worn like iron.
But this is different, this is not the bush, it is a lengthy cruise, and I am trying to pack enough cool-weather clothing for cooler places, warm-weather clothing for places that are pretty hot even when they have cooled off, and clothes for dining in specialty restaurants with a dress code. I need clothes which will be modest. I need something for just hanging around. I’ve saved old swimsuits I can wear and leave behind, so that’s one thing solved.
“We’ve never lived in one place this long, ever,” AdventureMan continued, “and I have clothes I never wear anymore, things that have just become irrelevant. I keep thinking I need to get rid of more, like the pleated pants and the dress shirts, but it’s hard, I wonder if I might need them. Does that happen with you?”
I pause in my pinning and laugh. I have one dress in three different colors, another dress in two colors, and two jean skirts. I have a winter hooded dress in five colors. I am not a big shopper, so when I find something that works, I go with multiples.
Meanwhile, yes, AdventureMan, I have that other closet full, like you, with just-in-case clothes. I still have what is left of my evening dresses. I have clothing for in case I have a business meeting, or a funeral, things maybe I’ve worn once or twice since moving here. I have the odd specialty pieces, like Christmas clothing. When will I be ready to part with my cold-weather clothing, so beautiful and once so expensive?
I laugh and tell him all the above, and then tell him that of all the clothes I wear, I still have the clothes which were made for me in Qatar and Kuwait, copies of one particular Coldwater Creek linen dress which I had copied in both linen and cotton. I have three left. I’ve been wearing them for fifteen years, and they still look like new.
“I’ve taken them in,” I tell him because I’m smaller than I was when I was relatively sedentary in Kuwait. “And I’ve taken the hems up at least twice as I’ve gotten more used to being back in America. People tell me I look nice – they used to ask me if I was a missionary wife,” I added, and we both laughed. When you live in a different culture for a while, you become adapted to local ways. I remember how disconcerting it was in summers coming back to the USA and finding all the women shockingly and scantily dressed in their sleeveless dresses and shorts and T-shirts, even respectable women and I knew the change was in me and my perceptions, not in my culture.
I am thinking the backpack will be my Godsend. I am hoping I still have the strength and energy to run through Charles de Gaulle airport with the backpack on my back, lifting the carry-on if we need to run up or down stairs. I am thinking I can strap the backpack onto the carry-on handle in the straight places. I am thinking whatever I take will be enough; I am hoping it might even be a matter of discovering I have overpacked a little less than before.
It’s a curious mentality you develop when you’re nomadic. You become aware of so many possibilities, things that can go wrong, and things you might need, so you are always thinking “just in case.”
We have a backup plan. We know there is a Carrefour (large French supermarket) in walking distance to our hotel, so we can stock up on things we don’t have room to pack, or which we can’t carry on-board an airplane – manicure scissors, needles, sun protection, and some good bottles of dry red wine for our cabin. My list gives me a small illusion of control.
I take a deep breath and remind myself that this is our get-away, our escape, and that anxiety is counter-productive. We will be fine. Enough is enough, it will be a grand adventure.
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