Side Roads of Europe

Scotland in June

2011-01-23T09:57:00.000-08:00

Exploring the corners and crannies of Britain provides endlessly fascinating travel pleasure. Although my husband and I have driven the backroads of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland many times, my son and grandson had not until June experienced the fun of exploring corners and crannies well known to UK citizens but less so to Americans. My son is fascinated with Romans, so our route beginning a two-week trip to Scotland dictated northern England's premier Roman site, Hadrian's Wall, which stretches some 80 miles east to west just below the Scottish border. We flew into Manchester, and immediately drove north, an easy turn from the airport onto the motorway that carried us through the Lake District to the region near Carlisle on the western edge of the wall.

The Bessietown Grange Guest House provided gorgeous views of the blooming spring countryside looking toward and into Scotland, luxurious bedrooms and fabulous breakfasts. "We have eggs, bacon sausage, to-mah-to, mushrooms beans, haggis, black pudding and toast," our host, clad in green suspenders with red Welsh dragons marching down their length, announced to my grandson on our first morning there. "Do you want The Full Monty?" The Full Monty, he explained to us, is the full spread of choices, named after the Commander of Britain's forces in World War II, Field Marshall Montgomery. Popularly called "Monty," he believed that soldiers fought better on a full stomach, so ordered large breakfasts every day. Grandson Cameron, a brave lad, tried it all, pronounced that he indeed liked haggis, and even managed the black pudding at least once. His fascination with haggis overcame even American astonishment at tomatoes and mushrooms for breakfast, forgetting how often at home he has asked for salsa for his scrambled eggs.
Fortified for a full day of exploring, we set out to find Romans, but first found sheep, grazing freely around the ruins of a border castle. Surprisingly, we also found llamas, frolicking with the sheep.

We would see sheep, more sheep, and even more sheep though, during the next two weeks. Cameron quickly learned to identify the differences between a Swaledale Ewe and a Scottish Blackface.

Nearby, we stumbled on a tiny little church guarding a graveyard and the remains of a seventh-centuy cross. Humbled by its mystery, we paused to ponder the lives memorialized on lichen-covered gravestones, thinking of blustery winters and long, lonely days during the long centuries of the Middle Ages among small communities building churches of this tiny size.

Bewcastle Church, Northumberland

And we did, finally, find the wall, and Romans. In amazingly good repair, the long stretches of the wall can be hiked between frequent mile castles and a sprinkling of restored forts. Begun in the first century A.D., it remained the last bastion protecting Romanized British citizens against marauding barbarians for nearly four hundred years. It is a vivid testimony to the engineering skills and military organization of the Roman Empire.

The museums scattered along the length of the wall and maintained by British Heritage tell the story of the frontier between civilized Roman territories and the wild land of the Picts and the Scots who never succumbed to the mighty Roman military engine. Reconstructions, artifacts and videos bring to life the conditions of Roman life along this long borderland. The four hundred years of Roman occupation from the construction of the wall until the Roman withdrawal in the fifth century is a time span hard to mentally process until one remembers that the settlement of what is now the United States of America is scarcely four hundred years old.

The emblems of the legions look surprisingly modern in their abstractions, but tell of troops marching long miles along Roman roads to fulfill their tours of duty along this northernmost imperial frontier. In later centuries of the wall's existence, the third and fourth and the final fifth, these troops were more than likely British-born though Roman in lifestyle and culture, but the early guards who came north from the sunnier lands of Italy must have strongly cursed the cold winds that sweep this land even in summer.
We would eventually get to Scotland, and that was equally fascinating and exciting for all of us. But that is a tale for another post. Northumberland and the country of Hadrian's Wall are alone worthy of a week or more exploring backroads and country lanes. We spent three days there, and longed for more time. If you go in June when the flowers are fresh and plentiful and the air is crisp and invigorating, you can begin the day with a Full Monty and spend the rest of it tracking barbarians, Romans, Medieval citizens, llamas and sheep, yes, lots and lots of sheep. Stay in a country guesthouse--Bessietown Grange if you can get it--eat Monty-sized breakfasts, and be grateful for the travel gifts that come your way. Choose any road--in this case, almost all do in fact lead to Rome, or at least to the Roman wall.

Forgotten Corners of French Louisiana

2010-08-15T15:55:00.000-07:00

Everybody knows about New Orleans, though the mythical city that lives in most people's minds is not always the same city found on the Mississippi River in southernmost Louisiana. Sometimes it isn't even the same city that lives in my mind, and I lived there for over eight years, but a long time ago. Lots of folk who lived there just five years ago find that the city that is there now isn't the same city they left, and many of those who came back after the Katrina cleansing still long for the city that they knew.

But New Orleans is a topic for another day. Today I want to share some of the pleasures of a part of the state that is often not considered part of the more Gallic, Catholic, hedonistic southern sections of the state. North Louisiana is predominantly Protestant, Anglo-American and less-often-visited by non-Louisiana residents. But the oldest French settlement in the state is in this northern section, close to the Texas border. Natchitoches, settled as a French trading post by Juchereau de St. Denis, retains its colonial atmosphere and its French flavor, blended with a rich African-American heritage and a treasure trove of early colonial and southern planter architecture.

The Badin-Roque House Kitchen at Isle Brevelle

The kitchen of the Badin-Roque House as it is known today is a well-preserved example. One of the oldest surviving structures in the Mississippi Valley, it served the bousillage (mud and timber), dirt-floored house built by and for the Ursuline Nuns when they first arrived in the still largely unexplored Louisiana territory in the 1790s. By that time Natchitoches, only a short ten or so miles away, was a thriving settlement. The house itself stands nearby in an amazing state of preservation.

The House, once the home of the Ursulines

The small Cane River Community of Isle Brevelle is home to several generations of Louisiana Creole families descended from a former African slave named Marie Therese but called by her more familiar name of Coin-Coin and a French military officer and planter named Metoyer from the Natchitoches Post. Theirs is not an unusual story in some ways, and extraordinary in another. After fathering twelve children with Coin-Coin, Officer Metoyer decided that he had to have a white, Catholic, French wife. Giving her forty acres miles away on the Cane River, Metoyer freed her, but not her children. Cultivating the land diligently, she succeeded in buying all of her children from slavery and with them built one of the most famous early-nineteenth century plantation homes in Louisiana, Melrose, just across the Cane River and about a mile from the Badin-Roque house. The house came into the families of some of her descendents who intermarried into other free famililes of color, many of whom in Louisiana were affluent, highly skilled, and well-educated. Some of Coin-Coins own grand-children were educated in Paris, returning home to Louisiana with worldly ideas as well as silver-headed walking canes and rock-crystal tumblers decorated with sterling heads of Napoleon Bonaparte.

A visit to Natchitoches offers a fascinating opportunity to explore deeply into the inter-connected history of Old World France and New World Louisiana. Anyone seeking European side roads would be well repaid in spending several days in the too-often forgotten corner of the American south. And a day or two relaxing at nearby Toledo Bend Lake, especially in the Fall and Spring, will provide some of the best of Louisiana's pleasures.

French Louisiana

2010-07-23T08:25:00.000-07:00

The Lafayette, Louisiana Museum, home of Alexandre Mouton, President of the Secession Conference, 1861

I (Bonnie) live in the southwest corner of Louisiana, the heart of what is known as "Cajun" country. When I was growing up here, French was commonly heard in and around my home town, most of the merchants and businessmen spoke French or had someone around who did as so many of their customers spoke only that language. After the spread of American affluence and television, the language died out except in remote areas and country pockets, but a determined effort in the 1950s and 60s by a local congressman by the name of James Domengeaux created an agency called CODOFIL--the Council for the Development of French in Louisiana. CODOFIL is still strongly promoting Louisiana French language and culture, and the degree of its preservation that exists is the result, and the result of the determined efforts of young Louisianians of French heritage who have appreciated and promoted their culture. The popularity of Louisiana French music, now widely appreciated as a unique cultural expression along with Creole and African-American musical forms has ensured that Louisiana's distinctive French-influenced cultural gumbo has survived. "Cajun," though, is widely misunderstood outside its home territory--even in the state at large. "Cajun" on menus throughout the U.S. and lately way too often in London and even in provincial England simply means drowned in red pepper. Those of us who know the richness and subtleties of true Cajun cuisine run like mad when we see "Cajun chicken" or other such frights on British or New York menus--we know it will be a travesty of any of our proud culinary dishes.

Over 500 years old, Lafayette's Cathedral Oak has presided over a unique blend of cultural influences.

A visit to southwest Louisiana and to "Cajun Country" is a visit to a complex cultural pocket containing a blend of Caribbean, African-American, French, Spanish and Anglo influences, spiced lightly with Irish, German, Vietnamese and other strains. From town to town, even close neighbors less than twenty miles away, cultural dominance can change. Franklin, for example, with its many Greek-revival plantation-style nineteenth-century homes and moss-draped oaks, was formerly dominated by southern Anglo-American elites. Now populated by the descendents of early planter families and of their African slaves, it remains a pocket of American plantation culture only a few miles away from both the French areas to the west and the bayou regions to the east. Driving through the southern regions of Louisiana is a drive through time-warps of multiple cultural colors.
And all of this is not to say anything about New Orleans, America's unique port city, the city that almost everyone first thinks of when one hears "Louisiana." New Orleans is truly sui generis and worthy of its own entry. But if anyone is looking for a European sideroad, he or she should certainly look here, to Louisiana, starting with the Queen City perhaps--no one should die without experiencing it--but going on beyond, into the regions where the cultural European past still lingers, still resonates, still fascinates.
A trip to Louisiana is in many ways a trip to a foreign country, and equally compelling. It is quintessentially American, yet not like the rest of America. It is southern, yet unlike the rest of the American south. Its languages are English, often spoken with a strong accent, various varieties of French like yet unlike the mother tongue. Its cuisines are rich and proud; food is a religion here. The oil rig spill in the Gulf of Mexico is a far greater disaster than the national news media generally recognizes. Its threats not only to the environment and to the economy is dire, but its threat to one of America's richest unique cultures is heartbreaking.

2010-07-13T08:48:00.000-07:00

After a hiatus of more than two years, I am hoping someone out there will still be interested in reading our blog. I have just returned from my first trip back to Europe since 2008--the longest time between trips for me since the early 1980s. A year in Washington, D.C. and a prolonged re-entry following kept me not only from traveling, but from having much to add to a blog that involved exploring fascinating roads and by-ways. But I have learned that the U.S. has just as many interesting sideroads, with many, many connections to Europe. So I am going to continue to expand the interpretations of the term "sideroads of Europe" to include those in the U.S. that invite European discoveries in other ways. That was one of the many things my year in D.C. taught me. I have been a shameless Europhile for so long--I guess that comes from being educated from the age of 12 by an order of French nuns and from living in a region of the country that proudly proclaims that it preserves the French language. Southwest Louisiana is one of those European side roads, so often both American and yet different.
France in late May, early June 2010, after a two-year absence--was similar: familiar, yet different. I found the streets of Paris dirtier than I had ever seen them, but the spirit of the Parisians as energetic as I remembered. I was there, sadly, to empty the apartment my family has enjoyed for over eleven years, a sad task that involved sifting through memories of so many pleasant experiences, even those that would probably have been trying but for the excitement of place. Sifting through STUFF and trying to figure out what to do with it wasn't easy either: what does one do, for example, with a ten-year old, burnt-out ten-inch television set? But we sold the apartment to friends, which made it much easier to part with it in so many ways. And I found that all of my wonderful, varied friends acquired over the years in Paris jumped to the task of helping, rallied round strongly, and solved all the problems, the television set among them. One wonderful friend simply came to pick it up and take it to the "dechitrie", wherever in the nooks and corners of Paris that might be found.
It wasn't all hard work, so later posts will detail some of the interesting moments. But on June 5 I closed the door for the last time, left the doors and the street that I have greeted with such joy for so many years, and said good-bye to the 12th Arrondissement street that I think is one of the most beautiful in the city.

Exploring The Luberon

2008-07-30T08:33:00.000-07:00

Provence is a huge area in France encompassing many different regions, all interesting. Many people think that the Cote d'Azure on the Mediterranean is Provence and it is but only a small part. In my opinion, one of the most lovely and fasinating sections of Provence is the area known as the Luberon and I put together a driving tour of some of my favorite places. It really can't be done in one day but it would be possible to split it into two days with north of the Luberon mountains one day and south the next but be sure to take the chance to savor what makes the Luberon so special. From lavender fields to perched villages, rolling hills covered in vines, fruit trees or olive trees, the Luberon is a place to which you will want to return again and again. Be sure to keep your eyes open for advertisements on little signs announcing either vide greniers or brochantes for buying local Provencal products, antiques or maybe just someone's junk. Especially investigate at tourist offices if there are any festivals which are always fun and which give a unique view of what makes Provence what it is.

Most of the Luberon lies around the Grand and Petite Luberon Mountain range and there are intriguing things to see on both sides. The roads themselves can be narrow, always two lane, sometimes seeming more like one lane with barely room for two cars to pass each other. After a while you will get used to driving along, going around a corner and suddenly seeing a car or truck heading towards you. Just slow down and get over but be careful of the deep ditches that often run along side the roads for water run-off. I often won't give highway numbers but you will easily find the village you want by being alert as you come to round abouts which don't always give highway numbers but only which villages or cities lie in the direction of the exit. By the way, there is nothing wrong with circling a round about several times deciding which exit you need to take.

Heading north from the lovely city of Aix-en-Provence on D 956 you will reach Pertuis not, in my opinion, a very interesting city although it does have a nice tourist center in the old section of the city located in a nice tower. If you go west on D 973 in the direction of Villelaure, there is a really nice winery to visit, le Val de Joanis. It has a magnificant garden and a quality gift shop. Follow the directions for la Tour d'Aigues which you will reach by continuing through many round abouts on D956. la Tour d'Aigues has a charming ruined chateau and you can take a tour of the mostly empty interior. (You many notice that there are several villages with the word “aigues” in there names. This refers to their location in the valley of Aigues. Aigues is an old Provencal word meaning water.)

La Tour d'Aigues

Driving through la Tour d'Aigues continue on D 956 to the perched village of Grambois. It is worth the stop for a look at its petite square and the charming church. If it is Monday and if you have the time, there is a huge market-the largest in Provence- in the mornings on a town outside of the Luberon area called Forcalquier reached by taking N96, a major highway and taking D 12 or N 100 which is on the north side of the Luberons. From Grambois or la Tour d'Aigues follow the signs to Ansouis, winding your way through vineyards. Ansouis has a castle at the top of the village with tours given and a really lovely chapel attached and fantastic views of the country circling around. From Ansouis follow the signs seen at round abouts for Cucuron. Cucuron has a wonderful rectangle pond once used for tanning surrounded by two hundred year old plane trees. The inside of the village itself is interesting to walk around, and you can see how the typical person lives here.

Ansouis

Another alternative when in the area of Grambois is to take D33 in the direction of Vitrolles-en-Luberon, over the mountain and down into the village of Cereste. From there take N100 to Apt which is the site of a good market on Saturday mornings. It is fun to wander through the old streets and to visit the Cathedral of Saint Anne. On the way to Apt is the little village of Saignon well worth a visit. There is a stupendous view from a rocky cliff with lavender fields down below in the summer and, although there are only a couple of small streets, there is a beautiful fountain in front of a hotel and many photo opportunities. It makes a refreshing stop. From apt you can head on to Gordes or Roussillon.

Leaving Cucuron, follow the signs once more to Lourmarin, D 27. This will probably be your favorite village. It is a delight, especially on the Friday morning market day, full of all sorts of Provencal wares to buy as well as fruit, vegetables, cheeses and more. Wander around the alluring streets and sit and have a drink at one of the cafes for a spot of people watching.

Lourmarin

An especially lovely drive is the one on D943 from Lourmarin to Bonnieux, another perched village with breath-taking views of the valley below. From here you can visit Lacoste and Menerbes if you wish. I would recommend that you go to Roussillon, an ochre and rust colored village reflecting the ochre that was once mined there. There is a valley there to walk through too but it will leave your shoes covered in orange dust.

Roussillon

Gordes is nearby, a gorgeous perched village built totally of stone. There is a wonderful view of it as you approach.

Gordes

Not far away is the interesting village des bories, a deserted little city built entirely of rock and, lovely when the lavender is in bloom, Senaque Abbey. For those interested in antiques, Ile sur la Sorgue is a must although it is not within the Luberon. Sunday is the huge market day there but it is packed with antique shops and it is a delightful place to wander around as there are canals and water wheels everywhere. You can end in Cavaillon, a good place for wandering around, eating or shopping.

Corsica Part 3

2008-07-21T01:18:00.000-07:00

After a nice breakfast (typical French with great bread) we backtracked a little as I wanted to see a village called SantAntononino. We were high in the mountains and as we took turn after turn we could see villages high on top of hills that we had just driven through across a valley or see the next village we would arrive at perched on top of a hill looking a long distance away but quickly driven into. We went back through Ile Rousse, a popular tourist stop packed with people and traffic as it is a sea side village in a beautiful setting with turquoise and dark blue water curving around the cliffs and beaches which we could see as we climbed again to find SantAntonino.

The whole area gives me the feel of Provence with rocks and boulders everywhere, and many perched villages, although there is a lot more vegetation called maquis here in Corsica. The village was one of those built totally of rocks easily found here with winding climbing steets also of stone reminding me of Gordes. There wasn't that much there to see other than the stellar view-just a few shops and places to eat. We stopped to see a 12th century church inside a cemetery with primitive carvings on the outside in the area.

Then we crossed what is called a desert here, although I'm not sure why. There were mainly rocks but there was vegetation, not sand with very little else to see. Maybe nothing can be grown there.
We made our way up and then down many curves and twists to St Florent, a little harbor village which we didn't like nearly as much as Calvi although my husband had good memories of it when he went sailing with friends years ago around the island. It didn't have the neat beaches and architecture of Calvi although there are apparantly beaches to be found only not easily accessed.
Our hotel was interesting. When we first pulled in we were appalled as we entered an unpaved parking lot full of weeds and unfinished walls. We would have driven on and found another place but we had already payed for our room with a credit card. We went through a garden which badly needed weeding to a dirty, messy office. Thank goodness our room turned out to be clean and it had a/c and a TV so all was fine. They even served drinks in the evening with a few munchies on a porch with a view of children's toys everywhere in the weed overrun yard and cleaning products and equipement on shelves with spiderwebs everwhere (I am a critical viewer of other people's housekeeping) and we met everyone staying there. The owner of the hotel is a Harley Davidson owner and so was one of the guests. He=2 0told us about really delightful sounding but remote beaches but it would require a four wheeler or be a three hour walk. A nice little lady sat next to me at the “cocktail hour”. She and her husband were from Paris and she told me that they had come to Corsica several years ago and fallen in love with it. Then she told me that on her first trip she and her husband had circled the island on their Harley Davidson motorcycle. This surprised me as she certainly didn't look the part sitting there with short gray hair cut in an old fashioned curly short style. I looked at her husband and he was more the type with a sleeveless t-shirt and beard. Just goes to show—you can't judge a book by its cover.

The next day we drove back to Calvi after passing through a really bad traffic jam in Ile Rousse. All the highways in Corsica are two lane and when you enter villages and towns it can really be crowded. After picking lunch, we headed on to Piana climbing, twisting and turning as all roads seem to do here passing breath-taking views of the deep blue sea below breaking on cliffs, and finally entering the famous calenques which are cliffs and rocks in shades of red and rust in all sorts of intersting shapes. It is really lovely.

We had dinner at the gite where we spent the night in Piana which featured wonderful salads made up from vegetables from their own garden-jullienned zuchinni, carrots, onions and anise and another of jullienned beets. We were also served sanglier, wild boar, which, as expected, tasted gamey but I ate a little of it for the experience. The gite is set up rather like a dorm-we have a room with a bed (no a/c or TV), and the bathroom is down the hall with showers down stairs. I haven't done something like this since high school camp. There is a young couple here riding their bikes. They started in Accacio and plan to ride up all the way to Ile Rousse which is over 150 kilometers with lots of climbs. It is rather dangerous with cars as one must slow way down to get by approaching cars. We had a really fabulous sunset as we sat outside in the rather chilly air eating dinner. Everyone went and got coats, sweaters and long pants. I'm not sure if it is a cold spell, or due to the wind, or if it is normal for this part of Corsica.
The next day was spent in Cargese where we scuba dived which was disappointing due to the lack of much to see. The town itself was interesting with two lovely churches and a tiny harbor down at the bottom of the hill on which the buildings tumble down. Back to Ile Rousse the next day where we caught the ferry for a five hour ride to Nice.
We really loved Corisca. We loved it so much we are going back next June. It's undeveloped and simple and, best of all, close to France.

Corsica Part 2

2008-07-15T11:15:00.000-07:00

We left Calvi and set off to do a bit of exploring. First we went to the west coast to see a chapel called Notre Dame della Serra which turned out to be closed but was set up on top of a cliff overlooking a spectacular view of Calvi and the bay. A statue of the Virgin Mary was on top of a big group of rocks.

There are huge rocks in this part of Corsica, some with very strange shapes with part of the shell of the rock broken off with a halow section inside. It isn't unusual to see buildings using these in their structures. The whole area reminded me of northern Arizona which has an area that is very rocky, especially one called Granite Dells near Prescott.

Next we went back through Calvi and then took highway D 151 which took us to Calenzana where we had lunch, then to Zilia, Lunghignano where there was an olive press turned by a friendly mule named Charley where we bought some olive oil and a t-shirt.

The road kept curving up and up until we reached the summet full of some vegetation but mostly rocks and boulders and, I bet, snow in the winter. We finally made it to our village called Speloncato which turned out to be charming with two unusual churches and interesting streets winding up to a view of a lake far down below. Our hotel, A Spelunca, was made from the former summer palace of Cardinal Savelli, a minister of Po pe Pius IX.

There were no elevators or air conditioning (or WiFi or TV) but it was very charming with antiques all around. Our room had a strange little cubicle and a plastic curtain for the toilet but here was a nice shower in our room. The hotel was totally full and we understand that after the 15th of July it is almost impossible to get a room anywhere in Corsica, especially in August when most of Europe and especially France take vacations. We decided that we very much want to retun to Calvi again and stay at the same hotel we were in, l'Onda, which is near the beach but it will probably be in June to escape the crowds. We had a nice meal at the cafe across from our hotel in Speloncato with lots of Corsican rose. When the sun set the temperatures cooled off and with the open window I was thinking we would have a cool night which we did. By the way, there were signs all over the hotel warning clients to close the windows and shutters when they were there or left the rooms due to violent winds. I'm sure they must really blow around here with the village on such a high mountain. When we went into our room for the night there was a wonderful crescent moon in the sky that we could see from our window. Such a nice stop.

Corsica Part I

2008-07-13T07:58:00.000-07:00

We finally had a trip planned to Corsica, a place I had had on my list of places to visit ever since we came to France. Corsica is French island which is 114 miles long by 52 wide lying between France and Italy. Sardenia, which is Italian, is immediately to the south. Corsica through many conquerers and rulers finally ended up being French although apparantly there are radical citizens who want to have their own country and sometimes set off bombs. As late as the 50's it was very primitive and under-developed and the Corsicans were known for their violent disagreements, usually over honor, and the shooting and killing of offenders often as many as 900 in one year being killed. Once 36 people died as the result of a vendetta when a sheep was wounded. I think it is pretty much a thing of the past. Now there are people involved in drug rings usually set up in Marseilles from what I read. It is now a haven for tourists with all sorts of hotels and resorts. There are many rugged mountains with forests inbetween and it is known as The Granite Island. It is also the birthplace of Napoleon although his family had to flee to France during a political uprising there and Napoleon only returned there once on his way back to France from Egypt.

We set off for Toulon to catch the ferry to Corsica. Various ferries can be caught in many places along the coast from France but Toulon was our hopping off point due to last minute tickets. We got in line with other cars and were supposed to be boarded and on our way by 10:30 PM but another huge ferry pulled in first and ours finally did afterwards. They are all enormous, able to hold six to eight hundred cars. We didn't board the ferry until 10:30 and we didn't set off until 11:30. It turned out that this was going to be an overnight trip taking almost eight hours. If we had left from Marseille and gone to the town of Calvi in Corsica it would have been a five hour trip. Sometimes you just can't plan these things in time. Almost everyone in France that I told that we were going to Corsica always replied, “So are we!” It turns out Corsica is a very popular vacation spot for both French and Italians. We didn't have tickets for either rooms with beds or special chairs that reclined into beds. Luckily, we just went to the bar, claimed long couches and, in a few hours, were stretched out trying to sleep. Of course it was noisy, full of bright lights and people walked around for hours. Around 2 AM a little girl started acting up and yelling “No!” over and over. Luckily they took her out. Around 4 AM a baby started crying but hushed up before long. Actually, I didn't sleep much worse than I do on a plane from Paris to the States although Maurice got very little sleep.

Finally we landed in our port of Ajaccio. Imagine two huge ferries carrying hundreds of cars each, both unloading at the same time. It took us quite a while to finally get on the road. We didn't even take time to explore Ajaccio as we had to head north to Calvi where Maurice's son and his girlfriend had to find a space at a camp where they were going to stay for a few days for a music concert and they had to get there early enough so there were still some places to chose from. There are two ways to Calvi from Ajaccio. One is a picturesque, winding road along the coast and the other is cutting across the island, then heading north and then west to finally reach Calvi on the northern end of the island. On the map it looks like the coast road would be best but actually, because of the curves, it takes twice as long. As it was, we twisted and curved our way across mountains across the center of Corsica actually circling the base of what looks like an enormous chain finally reaching Calvi in about three hours. A camp site was secured. The camps seem very nice with huge buildings holding shower stalls, toilets and sinks, swimming pools, trees to camp under, a unit with small refrigerators to rent, and a short walk to a beach.
We then had lunch and set off to have a look at Calvi which has a beautiful harbor full of huge sail boats and yachts and then a climb to the top of the village for breath-taking views of the turquoise and blue waters below. Calvi seemed to me to be a typical French village full of ancient buildings, interesting churches and shops for tourists. That evening we sat on the beach with a bottle of Corsican rose wine and watched the sun set. Nearby a small bar was playing music, a mix of pop and techno and young people were on the beach dancing and enjoying the music. I think I was the oldest person on the beach. We then had a pizza at a little place at the camp before calling it a day.

Dijon and Beyond

2008-05-28T23:40:00.000-07:00

I have often been asked, “What are some good areas outside of Paris to visit?” There are many, many possibilities such as Giverny; Epernay and the Champagne region; Chartres; a trip to Normandy is even possible. If the person asking has more than one day available I often recommend making a trip to Dijon and some of the other villages and cities nearby. I made my first trip to Dijon by train from Gare de Lyon and arrived there in a little over an hour. The old city is a short walk from the train station and the tourist information building is passed on the way — so a map can be picked up. Walk through a nice pedestrian area, with a stop at a Maille shop if you want some mustard from the area and a cute little mustard jar to put it in. Cassis, a sweet liquor, is also made in the area and is seen in many of the shops along the way.
One of the distinctive things about architecture in Burgundy, the section of France in which Dijon is located, is the wonderful rooftops decorated in colorful argyle-like designs. There is also a wonderful delicate outline around many doorways shaped in a gothic design — seen in many castles and buildings throughout the region. The cathedral is an interesting one to wander through and the outside is loaded with statutes on the roof. I loved the museum, Musée des Beaux-Arts, a one time palace, full of great artwork and the very dramatic elevated tombs of Dukes of Burgundy: Philip the Bold and John the Fearless surrounded by hovering angels. Burgundy, or Bourgogne, was once a separate country from France and the dukes were the royalty there. They were often in disputes with France and even sided with England at times.
If you are lucky enough to have a car there is a wonderful town nearby to see called Chateauneuf. My husband and I had passed this village many times on the way to southern France and had wanted to visit it. It sits on the top of a high hill topped with a castle. Finally, we made plans to stop over night. It is a charming village where fewer than 100 inhabitants live and it is small enough to see in an hour. We walked around looking at old buildings with ancient carvings above the doors, some with those gothic outlines. There is a huge round tower not far from the center of the village and a rather magical walk through a forest leads to an old chapel and a moss covered wall with a bench in front made of huge slabs of rock. There are several view points of the valley below which are breathtaking with rectangular fields spread out below gentle hills and vineyards in their soldierly rows. We walked through the castle free of charge seeing 3 or 4 different centuries of work. I liked the chapel in the castle the best with a replica of the tomb of Philippe Pot, one of the rulers there. It is unusual in that eight black robed monk statues stand around it. The real tomb is in the Louvre and the monks there support the tomb with the "body" of Philippe on their shoulders. We learned some curious local history. The last remaining member of the original family was put to death when she poisoned a husband she had been forced to wed. The title was then passed to Philippe Pot.
In the village, there is also a sixteenth century church with a carved wooden pulpit, some remains of a cross and ramparts, where there are stunning views of the Burgundy Canal and countryside. We stayed in a nice hotel right next to the castle, the Hostellerie du Chateau, run by a young couple. It was very clean and there is a nice restaurant for evening dining. A great lunch was available right across the way at the Grill of the Castle. We just had steak and frites — but they were great, followed by an ice cream sundae chosen from a huge selection of flavors.
The next day we drove on a small road that followed the Burgundy Canal for a while and we decided we wanted to do a barge trip someday. We passed freshly tilled fields waiting for the spring crops to be planted and some growing what looked like green grass to me. Even in the winter it was a beautiful area with gently rolling hills to drive through as we made our way to the little city of Beaune. This is yet another interesting place to walk through. It has its own little Arc de Triomphe and many parts of an old city wall remain. And, of course, the argyle tiled roofs can be seen in many places. It's a great city to walk around with pedestrian areas and lots of great shopping.
And I didn't mean to forget to mention the wine — those wonderful Burgundy wines. This is the area to stop and try some really great vintages. There is a hall in Beaune called the Marché aux Vins where close to 40 wines can be tasted and bought. And, they ship overseas, if you are lucky enough to live in a State allows it. We did all of these stops in two days with one overnight stay in Chateauneuf and were back in Paris in time for dinner. It's just one more wonderful area to see close to Paris.

Hostellerie du Chateau
Chateauneuf, Bourgogne, France
Telephone: 03 80 49 22 00

Marché aux Vins
Rue Nicolas-Rolin
Beaune

Finding Europe in America

2008-05-17T00:00:00.000-07:00

Few of us would consider Washington D.C. one of the side roads of Europe—but it can be thought of as a New Rome. I have spent the better part of the year in the D.C. area, becoming acquainted with a city that can hold its own with any of the European capitals in its cultural richness and its multiethnic diversity. What has been not only surprising to me but a fact of some chagrin is that I am more familiar with many areas of Europe than I am with this corner of the United States. And I certainly did not expect to find myself in France, as I did last night.

The French Embassy in Washington offers to visitors, which it welcomes in a particularly charming and very French way, a cultural program of exhibits, performances and concerts that showcase French culture. Last Sunday all the European embassies held open house. Our visit to the French Embassy introduced my companions to wonderful French wines, pastries and cheeses, the varied programs of the Alliance Française, and intrigued a gaggle of children with a display of French aviation achievements sponsored by Air France. French music playing in the courtyard and the Embassy staff greeting visitors made it indeed a step across the Atlantic to French territory.

Last night I visited the Embassy once again to hear one of the last and surely one of the best of this year’s series of concerts offered at La Maison Française in the Embassy itself. The Suspicious Cheese Lords, a male a cappella ensemble, enthralled a packed house with a program of little heard and previously unrecorded works of the Renaissance master composer, Jean Mouton. I was unfamiliar with Mouton, despite the fact that a large population of families by that name live in my Louisiana home town, all descended from a 17th century immigrant to Acadia, now Nova Scotia whose came to Louisiana in the great expulsion from there in the mid-1700s, an early example of ethnic cleansing. This earlier musical Jean Mouton, perhaps related to the Acadian and Louisiana families, was probably born in northern France in the mid-1450s. He is first recorded as a singer and a teacher in a church in Nesle, moving to the Cathedral in St. Omer by 1494 and becoming master of the boys choir at Amien Cathedral in 1500. He ultimately became a prominent member and Master of the Chapel for Queen Anne of Brittany from 1510 until his death in 1522. He compositions were widely influential in France and in other parts of Europe; he was praised by the Pope and celebrated by other European musicians. Now, more than 400 years since they were written, his major compositions are being recorded, performed and re-published.

The Suspicious Cheese Lords

This was a spellbinding concert. The Cheese Lords—their name derives from a corruption of the first line of one of their standard Latin motets—first coalesced in 1996, when Clifton (“Skip”) West III invited some of his friends to join him for food, friendship and singing. They continue to have dinner together during their rehearsals, and their focus on food extended to the cheeses served with wine and good French bread after the concert. The cheeses alone took me right across the Atlantic. An exhibition of Delphine Perlstein’s paintings enlived the atrium for the reception.

From Deborah Perlstein’s Tisse Sa Toile.

If you can’t get to Europe but you can get to D.C., think about a “vacation” in France—or Germany, or Britain, or Finland—attending the cultural programs at their embassies. The Open House at the German embassy last Sunday was particularly good fun as well, with bratwurst, free beer, a Bavarian band and an Alpine horn concert on the patio.

The special exhibition at the National Gallery on the Mall offers another taste of France. In the Forest of Fontainebleu: Painters and Photographers from Corot to Monet displays some 100 nineteenth century paintings, pastels and photographs made in the forest near Paris before 1870. Tracing the development of French landscape painting, it leads the viewer down a romantic road at the very dawn of new technologies as they led to a modern vision.

Claude Monet, Walking in the Forest of Fontainebleu

Europe’s side roads extend farther than we normally suspect! Next week, I think I’ll visit Britain. Until I can get back to Europe, I will seek European experiences here at home, and Washington isn’t the only place to find them. Wherever you live, you can travel a European cultural road until you can actually get there, even if you’re housebound.

Citroën: A French Legend

2008-04-10T00:22:00.000-07:00

I am not a person who pays much attention to cars. When my son says, "Wow, did you see that car?" I never have. I'm not too picky about what kind of car I drive. I just want it to be dependable and easy to park. But all of that changed when I saw my first Deux Chevaux here in Paris. There is just something special about it:it has personality, spunk. Just the fact that its name means “Two Horses” is spunky, even though it only means it has two cylinders. I would love to have one but as they are no longer making them and as we already have a car, I probably won't ever get my wish. There is an antique car show the first Sunday of every month in front of the Chateau Vincennes — and there is always at least one Deux Chevaux. I am hoping to talk one of the owners into giving me a ride. I want to see what it is like inside.
I found out that the Deux Chavaux was made by Citroën, a French company. I had no idea that Citroën was somebody's name until I was strolling through the Montparnasse Cemetery and saw the name Citroën on a gravestone. I have since found out that Renault and Peugeot are also family names. It wasn't until I met a young Australian who was absolutely crazy about Citroën and it's suspension (something about hydro-pneumatic suspension) that I got curious about the company. There are clubs all over the world of Citroën fanatics where they must spend a lot of time discussing where to find spare parts for cars no longer being made. There are 60 registered clubs in Paris alone.
It was an André Citroën, an engineer, who started his own company and by 1919 was the first to mass produce a European car that was unlike others. It came with electric lighting, a starter, a hood, and a spare tire. Citroën was a marketing genius who hired the Eiffel Tower and advertised his car on the side with a sign 30 meters high with 200,000 light bulbs. He talked the French government into letting him make safety signs that said things like, "Dangerous Bend — Slow Down — Thanks to Citroën". He did the first mass mailing of car catalogues to customers and started his own printing company. Josephine Baker sang at a car show, "I have two loves: my country and my Citroën."
The first documentary films were done by the Citroën company when a caterpillar car did an expedition from Beruit to Peking crossing the Himalayas and Gobi Desert. When the Deux Chevaux was dreamed up most cars in Europe were far too expensive for ordinary workers and farmers to buy. In fact, when the Deux Chevaux model was first introduced in 1931, it was not supposed to cost more than '2 cows'. This meant it had to be light with special suspension and could only go at slow speeds. It was, in fact, a type of bicycle with four wheels, although watertight, and able to roll along at 60 kph if the terrain was flat and there was no wind. There is also the story that it had to be able to be driven across a field by a farmer wearing wooden clogs, with eggs in the back seat that would arrive at his destination unbroken.
Eventually, in 1935, the company started having financial problems and Citroën handed over his shares to Michelin who had previously helped him. He then retired and just a few months later died. 1948 was the year the car itself got it's famous shape, the one I like so much. In 1976 Peugeot bought Citroën although the cars made by them still say Citroën and still have the little double chevron sign, which has always been the logo for Citroën.
There are many legends about Citroën. Supposedly two of the latest models were buried during W.W.II to save them from Hitler's hands and dug up after the end of the war. Charles de Gaulle escaped an assassination attempt while driving one; when that famous suspension allowed him to escape even though all four wheels had been shot out. Citroën has turned out to be yet one more thing about France that I had no idea about. I see them parked here and there in Paris and have whizzed past them on highways without a clue to their history. Ask most Frenchmen about it and they say "Yes, it is a French Legend."

Chartres

2008-03-28T00:31:00.000-07:00

There are many treasures to be seen outside of Paris--interesting villages, imposing châteaux, and magnificent cathedrals. One of the most breathtaking of these is the cathedral of Our Lady of Chartres, whose two towers rise majestically to dominate the wheat fields of the surrounding countryside. A Gothic masterpiece built eight centuries ago to honor the Virgin Mary, Chartres cathedral is only an hour's train ride from the Gare Montparnasse in Paris.

Crowds of visitors come to Chartres to see the cathedral and peer through the dark, vaulted space at the world-famous stained glass, admiring especially the "Chartres blue," which has not been duplicated in modern times.

The town of Chartres was a center for the cult of the Virgin throughout the Middle Ages, as it possessed a statue of Mary reportedly carved by St. Luke, as well as the "Sacred Tunic," supposedly worn by the Virgin at the time of the birth of Christ. Now it is one of most famous cathedrals in France, a splendid example of the "High Gothic" style of architecture. (The facade, however, is early Gothic; it was rebuilt after a fire.) Visitors will see that the floor of the cathedral slopes down near the front entrance; pilgrims slept at the cathedral, and the floors were washed off afterwards, the water flowing out the door.

Embedded in the cathedral's stone floor is one of the world's most famous labyrinths, a winding path that stretches the width of the cathedral's nave and twists and arcs through 11 concentric circles. The labyrinth at Chartres was built around 1200 and is laid into the floor in a style sometimes referred to as a pavement maze. The original centerpiece has been removed, and other areas of the labyrinth have been restored.

This labyrinth was meant to be walked. In the past it could be walked as a pilgrimage and/or for repentance. As a pilgrimage it was a questing, searching journey with the hope of becoming closer to God. When it was used for repentance the pilgrims would walk on their knees. Sometimes this 11-circuit labyrinth would serve as a substitute for an actual pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and as a result it came to be called the "Chemin de Jerusalem," or Road of Jerusalem.

In walking the Chartres style labyrinth one meanders through each of the four quadrants several times before reaching the goal at the center: a rosette design that is rich in symbolism, including that of enlightenment. The four arms of the Christian cross are also visible. Those interested in walking the labyrinth today must do so on Fridays, when all of the chairs that cover it are removed.

Visitors can also explore the subterranean chapels and crypt; tickets for guided tours are available at the bookshop outside and toward the back of the cathedral. Just beyond the bookshop are the cathedral's apse and a pretty garden overlooking part of the old town.

One of the best ways to see the cathedral is to take one of two tours offered by Malcolm Miller. An Englishman, Mr. Miller has lived in Chartres for many years, making the study of the cathedral his life's work. He has been conducting tours for more than four decades, enlightening many thousands of visitors about the cathedral's history, archicture, and treasures. The tours, which run an hour and a quarter, are given daily except Sunday at noon and at 2:45 P.M. To Mr. Miller, "Chartres is like a modern public library except that the texts are in stained glass and sculpture instead. No one person can claim to have read all the books in a library! Almost 70, and having guided here for 45 years I am still learning!" Mr. Miller came to Chartres as a student and returned to teach, never dreaming he would someday be giving daily tours and would have written five books about the cathedral. You can tell, while taking one of his tours, that he loves to teach. It is wonderful to sit in an area of the church and have Mr. Miller point out different architectural components of the church or "read" an ancient stained glass window, top to bottom, left to right.

After the tour, you will be tempted to stroll around the church, check out the bookstore and look at the books that Mr. Miller has written, then perhaps meander around the village but, if you want to eat lunch, you must immediately set off and find your restaurant as they close very early by French standards. There are bistros here and there with one in particular across the way from the cathedral where later meals can be obtained.

The town of Chartres itself is a nice bonus; narrow, winding streets head downhill from the cathedral to the river, where ancient stones can still be seen standing. A map obtained from the tourist center gives an interesting, self-guided walking tour of the village.

You can take a 3 Km walk to explore the sites of ancient Chartres; signs are posted to lead visitors along the way. The stroll begins at the cathedral; turn left, and you will find the Centre International du Vitrail (an exhibition and research center of stained glass). Go back to the cathedral, and behind it you will find the Musée des Beaux-Arts, a museum housing 12 paintings of the apostles by Leonard Limousin. Continue through the gardens and you will reach la Fontaine de St.-André, which was once the main water supply for the city. Then you follow the river until you reach the Reine Blanche, which is famous for its sculpted wooden staircase. Nearby is the Eglise de St.-Pierre with its wonderful stained glass windows. Next, follow the hill to the Maison de l'Archeologie and then to rue de la Poissonnière before returning to the cathedral.
Practical information:

Reservations are not needed for Malcolm Miller's public tours--just wait by the bookshop at noon or 2:45. Information: (33-2) 37.28.15.58, fax (33-2) 37.28.33.03. Cost: 10 euros, and more than worth it. He is occasionally out of town so you might want to call before going if you want one of his tours.

Trains to Chartres from Paris leave the Gare Montparnasse at least once an hour. The fare is approximately $14, and the trip typically takes a little over an hour. The walk from the train station in Chartres to the cathedral takes just about ten minutes.

The noted restaurant La Vieille Maison is on one of the narrow streets near the cathedral, in a historic building dating from the 14th century. The food is wonderful. 5 rue au Lait (tel. 02-37-34-10-67).

Moulin de Ponceau, on the river below the cathedral, is a great place for lunch (if you arrive before the 2:00 p.m. closing).

England's Side Roads in the Spring

2008-03-24T23:08:00.000-07:00

I think it was T.S. Eliot who said, “April is the cruelest month…” He was writing in England, and about England, and I think must have had some terrible personal experience when he wrote it. I visited England one year in February, another year in March, another in April, and several times have traveled the back roads of both England and Ireland in May, and I have seldom been anywhere more beautiful. In February, the crocuses sprinkled “The Backs” of the colleges along the Cam in Cambridge. In March, the daffodils were clouds of yellow blowing in the breezes in St. James Park in London and even broke through the snow in Wiltshire. In April, flowering trees brought surprising color to even the dreariest subdivision, and May was an explosion of yellow broom and white hawthorn. June may be best of all, with rhododendron hedges embracing the roads all over southeast England, and the roses climbing over doorways and spilling into tiny streets in villages everywhere.

Recently talking with a group of friends planning to visit Britain, I suggested that they drive themselves through parts of the country. They were immediately against the idea, expressing nervous fears of driving on “the wrong side of the road.” I know this is a daunting idea to many Americans, sadly. It is only with the independence that a car permits that some of England’s best rewards can be found. Driving through Britain in the Spring is perhaps one of the most intoxicating travel experiences one can have.

Backroads travel is hard to do by train or by public transportation, and hiring a driver with a car can be prohibitively expensive. But for a price that will be more cost effective for two or more even than the train, even with Europe’s gas prices-- nowadays not much more frustrating than America’s—and a few days taking careful practice on back country roads, travelers willing to launch themselves into the countryside will be richly satisfied. Driving allows pub lunches and cream teas unobtainable in the larger cities, sojourns in smaller, friendly, locally-owned Bed-and-Breakfast guest houses, and visits to hard-to-access tourist sites.

Our most memorable travel experiences have been in staying with folks all over Britain who not only served exceptional breakfasts but accompanied them with insight into the history of the region, told us of sites we would otherwise have missed, and generally introduced us to the real culture of Britain. A brief online or letter request to the tourist authorities in the region you plan to visit will bring all the information you need about lodging options, restaurants, and local landmarks. Taking to the low road—the not-so-beaten-path, is the best way to feel a part of the place. And driving through arches of rhododendron or fields of hawthorn simply can’t be experienced any other way—nor can staying in a rose-bowered guest house.

The Coolest Thing I Have Ever Done

2008-03-10T01:43:00.000-07:00

The Coolest Thing I Have Ever Done

I'm in Paris, full of marvelous things to see and do. Treasures and history are on every corner. I'm with a group of people and a man turns to me and says, with his eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas, "This is the coolest thing I have ever done!" What was he talking about? Walking down the Champ-Elysées? Looking at Paris spread out at his feet from the highest level of the Eiffel Tower? Maybe a meal at Tour d'Argent? He probably had done all of those, but none of the above was what he was talking about. So what was it?

It was a ride on a Segway, a new-fangled mode of transportation that had people stopping and staring, pointing and smiling. It is a human transporter allowing people to go up to speeds of 12 miles an hour in any pedestrian environment. I suspect it was first invented to help people with limited mobility, but it is so much fun that everyone wants to hop on and try it.

The only place in Paris that you can rent a Segway is at Fat Bike Tours, an American owned and run operation, owned by David Mebane. He has the exclusive contract with Segway as the only tour operator to have these machines.

I joined a group one day for a trial run. A quick orientation is needed before you set off. There are three keys for starting a Segway, each producing a different speed. The red key, being the fastest, is no longer available to tourists after two couples left a guide in the dust speeding for the fun of it, not as tourists getting a look at Paris. Our great guide, Brittany, had to hold on to our Segway when we first stepped on because at first you wobble back and forth, then suddenly you are balancing-- some sort of gyroscope system underneath the machine keeps you balanced. Then you just lean forward and pull back on the handles to stop or to reverse if already stopped. The turning device is on the left handle. This is the part I enjoyed most, as you turn very quickly and easily and maneuver like something out of Star Wars. The Segway was easy to ride and great fun.

Then we were off on our tour, seeing the Eiffel Tower, Invalides, the Louvre, Ecole Militaire, Alexander III bridge, Place de la Concorde and more. We were covering ground 2 to 3 times faster than the pedestrians we whizzed by on the sidewalks. We could go up or down small curbs easily and quickly come to a stop. I imagine that those who have a little trouble with mobility would love the Segway. All that is necessary physically is being able to step up and down. Plus, you must weigh at least 70 pounds.

Part of the fun of the tour on the Segway is the attention we attracted. As we drove by, people stared either with a smile, because they could see how much fun it was, or with a frown, wondering what in the heck this new-fangled contraption was (however you say that in French). Bikes aren't allowed in parks, and we saw security men and policemen trying to decide if we should be made to dismount and walk our Segways. We found that as long as we didn't go right up to the Pyramid at the Louvre they would let us continue to ride.

When we stopped there to take a look at the Pyramid from a distance, people surrounded us and asked, "Where can you rent these?," "How do these work?," "What are these?," "Can you buy them here in Paris?," and on and on. I have a feeling that Madonna gets this kind of attention when she goes out for a walk. For just a few hours on one day, it was a rather heady feeling. We saw a bike tour go by us and I saw the riders look at us with envy.

David, the owner, told me that after a Prince of Saudi Arabia tried the latest Segway, he immediately went and ordered 30 of them for his use back home, as well as for his family and employees. Plaza Athenée has struck a deal with David to put carrying bags with their name on them for groups coming from this prestigious hotel to do the Segway Tour.

I asked David why this tour has become so wildly popular and he said he thought it was because it was so new--the latest rage. Maybe in a year or so the fad will pass, but it sure is a draw at the present time.

Is it potentially dangerous? I guess it could be. The Segway stops so quickly and easily that I don't think it would be easy to run into a pedestrian. It is possible to fall off, and I'm sure a few people will run into a wall or get a wheel caught in some gravel. No one in my group had any problems once we became familiar with our Segways. All I know is that it was a really fun thing to do and, possibly, "the coolest thing I have ever done."

These tours are very quickly booked. Call or email ahead of time to book.

Fat Bike Tours-Paris
Dates : Every day March 1st-October 15th
Times: Day tour at 10:30am, night tour at 6:30pm
Prices: Day tour 70 Euro, night tour 70 Euro, both tours 125 Euros
Meeting Point: Both tours meet in the area under the Eiffel Tower
Phone : 01 56 58 10 54
Web site :http://www.fattirebiketoursparis.com/
email: info@FatTireBikeToursParis.com

le Refuge

2008-02-29T11:37:00.000-08:00

My husband and I decided to go on a short hiking vacation in the French Alps with another couple. Maurice has been hiking many times over the years and knew a beautiful area with great hiking trails and places to stay. He told me it would be a little basic but I thought, "How bad could it be?" I pictured a little building made of wood, planks for the flooring, maybe some showers like the ones I experienced in gym class--those stalls all lined up but with doors. To me, basic means no curtains on the windows. I was to learn that basic means something else to a French hiker.

We set off early one morning from Paris heading south to Lyon and then east through Grenoble and into the French Alps. The roads got higher, narrower and more winding and rivers and streams could be seen far below. At times we had to stop to let cars pass which were coming from the other direction on the narrow road. Eventually, the road ended when we had come to the end of the world in a little village called La Berarde. We spent the night in a simple hotel there; the first in the area, it was built in 1909. We even took a short hike out into the valley, an hour each way, and saw the river up close and glaciers shining in the distance nestled on top of various mountains. It is not an area full of wild nightlife, and the altitude made us sleepy anyway, so we were in bed early.

The next morning we each packed, as lightly as we could, the backpacks we would carry, including the ingredients for a picnic at the top. Up the trail we started, the end of which we would find a refuge, famous places all over the Alps for hikers and visitors to the mountains needing shelter and a place to sleep. The first part was hard going, all uphill and the trail was covered in all sizes of rocks left behind when a glacier, centuries ago, slid its way down the mountain making a valley and leaving behind a clutter of rocky debris.

My backpack got heavier and heavier cutting into my shoulders. We reached a fairly flat area, crossed a stream a couple of times, walked in a green area with trees, which was pleasant. Waterfalls could be seen tumbling down the mountains that rose up on either side of us. Then it became difficult again--more rocks and all uphill. Eventually we could see the refuge up the mountain in the distance looking like something out of Lord of the Rings or maybe a labor camp, institutional in appearance. The men were losing patience with us women and finally left us behind in disgust and, scurrying up the boulders, got to the refuge first. They were waiting at a table outside in the sun, smiling, when we finally arrived, sweating, hot and with shaky legs. I had thought all the walking and stair climbing I’d done in Paris would prepare me for hiking. I was wrong.

We sat there and had a nice picnic. Then I wandered inside to find the toilet. Imagine the horror of someone with burning thighs and weak knees when opening the stall door and seeing a Turkish toilet, a spider-web-covered black hole in the ground. Oh the trauma.

I found the proprietor. "Where are the showers?" this innocent asked.

"There aren’t any."

I began to understand what "basic" meant. I looked at a long sink beneath some windows. I realized that this was going to be where any cleaning up would be done. There was a sign in French that my friend translated into, "This sink is for personal cleaning purposes only. Any dishes must be washed outside in the torrent." I was glad we hadn’t brought any dishes. I could see them being washed away in the fast-flowing stream down to the valley below.

I remembered that I had forgotten to include a towel in my backpack. "Do you have any towels for rent, or that someone may have left behind?"

"No."

"I don’t suppose there is any hot water?"

"No, all the water comes straight down the mountain from the glacier." The glacier could be seen high up on the mountain behind the refuge, melting in the summer heat.
This meant that the water would be ice cold. It occurred to me that I could have left a whole change of clothes behind in the car and not have lugged them up the mountain on my back. I also found out that we had to haul our own garbage with us when we went back down. Had we known that, we would have had one of the sandwiches sold there and not made so much trash with our picnic.

Then I went upstairs to check out the sleeping arrangements. My husband had told me that it would be a dorm set-up. I pictured rows of bunk beds. What I found was two giant bunk beds that ran from wall to wall with a row of mattresses all together where everyone would be "cheek and jowl" that night, rather like the beds I have seen in concentration camp movies. There were folded-up blankets, dirty looking mattress covers and pillows which, I discovered when I laid my head down that night, smelled. I don’t think they changed anything between visitors. I wonder if they only change the beds once a season? I wouldn’t be surprised.

Luckily, the refuge wasn’t full that night but Maurice told me that he had been there before when they had been packed in that bed like sardines, having to turn as one or not at all. I feel fortunate that I didn’t have to spend the night between two strangers. Both my friend and I rushed to grab our places at the extreme corner walls, using our husbands as barriers from strange men.

Later we sat outside, where the setting sun turned the clouds pink. We saw a small herd of chamois, a type of mountain goat, eating their way down the mountain. And a cute marmot, a type of badger, could be seen poking its head up and then waddling out to a rock, soon joined by its baby. Our dinner, surprisingly good, was served in a fairly dark room and we wondered why they hadn’t turned the lights on as night fell. We soon discovered that the refuge had a generator but they never turned it on. I quickly ran downstairs to brush my teeth to save myself having to find everything in the dark. I cleaned my face with a cotton pad, having lugged my beauty products up the mountain, too. By 8:30 we were all in bed. If you had anything you wanted to do, it had to be done with a flashlight. I read a little while with a small flashlight on my chest. By 9:00 we were all asleep.

Twenty-five loud, soiled hikers suddenly burst into our dorm room, arriving late and setting up their sleep areas. All during the night there was snoring (and a few other disagreeable sounds). All night, people climbed in and out of the squeaking bed, carrying their flash lights, then walked across the creaking wooden floor to noisily open the toilet door. One group got up at 3 AM to hike across a glacier while it was still frozen. A second group got up at 5 AM to hike with a loud, "Time to get up, boys." We managed to sleep until 7:30.

The trek downhill was, of course, much simpler and faster. With a sigh, we reached the bottom. Maurice had planned another hike up to another refuge but the women rebelled. I, for one, just could not face another sweaty hike followed by no shower and then a night in a room with a group of smelly strangers whose bandaged feet protruded from the bunks. I guess I’m just not cut out for this stuff anymore. I’ll leave it to young, rugged men. I love the scenery, love the walking, but give me a comfortable clean bed, a place to take a shower and a standard toilet. That is basic enough for me.

A Taste of the French Alps

2008-02-07T02:18:00.000-08:00

Having a chance to visit the Alps and, in particular, a city called Annecy, I had to get out a map of France and to find it is in the eastern part of the France, in the French Alps. When I finally got to see Annecy first-hand, I wasn't prepared for its beauty. It is situated around a stunning lake and has a charming old city full of beautiful buildings and an old prison around which a stream splits and flowers spill out of containers on every corner.

This, I knew, was to be the beginning of my love affair with the French Alps. I have since been into the French Alps to a town called Bourg St Maurice. I like it with it's own little old town lined with cobbled streets. The village is in the center of the Haute-Tarentaise region and is the starting point for an entry into Italy up and over a mountain pass, or the way up to a ski resort called Les Arcs. My husband and I have skied at Les Arcs, and it's huge with runs all over the mountain.

In the summer, I've seen people taking off the side of mountains on hang gliders, and there is excellent hiking. We trekked over a mountain trail, through fields of lavender flowers, to a little Russian-looking chapel at the top of a mountain built sometime in the 1800s. I wondered what inspired someone to want to build in such an inaccessible place, and how hard it must have been to get everything up there.

We found a great restaurant in Bourg St. Maurice called Restaurant La Tartiflette. It's a wonderful place to try the food from the Savoie region such as Tartiflette, a dish made with potatoes, bacon, onion, and the local Reblochon cheese , or Diot, a local pork sausage with Crozets a Savoie pasta. Try the Vin de Savoie, such as Apremont, as well as one of the killer desserts, like the ice cream dish called Vertigo or Diablo. (Just don't plan any strenuous activity afterwards, as this is not food for the diet conscious!) Be sure to say hello to the very friendly, and entertaining owner of ten years, Rene Bignon.

While we were in this area one summer we did several driving trips to explore the many little villages. All of the drives involved hairpin curves, and there was seldom a time I didn't get a little car sick. One day we went across the border into a little Italian town for lunch. We crossed a pass called Col du Petit St Bernard where a good deal of fighting took place during World War II and there is a statue of St. Bernard de Menthon standing at the top. Another day we headed off for a little town called Bonneval-sur-Arc. It lies south of Mount Blanc and to get there we had to go over a pass called Col de l'Iseran, the highest pass in the Alps. There are areas here where the snow never melts. When we started out it was a sunny day, but as we got higher we entered thick fog and had to creep along, almost deciding to turn around. We finally got above the clouds and as we reached the summit, it started snowing (this was only August!). Then we descended the mountain, going again through fog and finally entering the area of Bonnelval-sur-Arc, which sits in the valley of the Arc surrounded by high peaks. It is a little town left totally untouched by development, with no satellite dishes or phone or electrical wires in sight. The tourists are all put up at a nearby village, and no cars are allowed. The buildings are all built of rough granite blocks, and the roofs are covered in slabs of stone. It all has such an ancient feel. It rained the whole time we were there, and it was cold so we went into a little restaurant and had some hot tea and a lunch of salad and local cheese and sausage to get warmed up. Coming out, we passed some hikers dressed in shorts and looking, to my unseasoned eyes, very wet and miserable. The whole area is covered in hiking trails that are used a lot during the summer months. I could see ski lifts for winter skiing.

My husband's uncle had told us to be sure to do the drive to Beaufort, as it was especially beautiful, and he was certainly right. After many a hairpin curve, we entered a little valley where one of the most beautiful lakes I have ever seen sat—Roseland Lake. It was a milky turquoise color sitting in the sun. I have since read that it is manmade and covers an old village, but it is still breathtaking when first viewed.

As we drove along we could see a glacier in the distance, and we passed cows everywhere eating grass that eventually becomes the famous Beaufort cheese.

The charming town of Beaufort has a stream running through the center and flowers everywhere—and, of course, a picturesque church. What's a wonderful thought to me is that we have barely scratched the surface of all there is to see in the French Alps. I am not much of a hiker, but I am inspired to become fit enough to start taking hikes around this beautiful area. Hiking is very popular in Europe, and now I know why.

Restaurant La Tartiflette 29, avenue del la Gare BourgSt. Maurice 04-79-07-07-94

Exploring the Bordeaux Region of France

2008-01-30T07:32:00.000-08:00

Bordeaux: the name conjures thoughts of legendary wines in hues of deep red, French châteaux and rolling vineyards whose names are associated with quality; that specially-shaped bottle filled with the nectar of the gods, the wine known the world over as the crème de la crème of wines.

Is it any wonder that anyone lucky enough to possess a bottle of Bordeaux wine feels blessed? Names like Mouton Rothschild, Lafite Rothschild, or Latour are instantly recognizable even to the amateur wine connoisseur.

Like most areas that I have found in France, Bordeaux is an area where one should spend more that a few days in exploration. First comes the ancient and beautiful city of Bordeaux itself; the nearby coastline can be visited en route to the area if you want to sit on a beach and enjoy the Atlantic. I had never associated Bordeaux with the ocean until, in an interview with French designer Philippe Starck, I learned of his plans to one day retire there, to raise oysters of all things. I had to get a map out to see that it did indeed run along the Atlantic.

A fishing hut on the ocean

The region where the wine is grown is divided in two by the Gironde River. Great vineyards grow on either side in the soil, which is heavy with rocks and pebbles that drain water away from the grapevines as well as holding in the heat during the night, something that leads to the magic of the flavorful grapes’ becoming the region's signature wine.

On the west side of the Gironde is the Médoc region, where the some of the most famous vineyards are found, those with the stronger, more robust taste. On the east side, lighter wines are made, such as St-Emilion. The sweet white Sauternes are made further to the south, and the little town of Cognac lies to the north.

We didn't have a long time to stay in the Bordeaux area, but we discovered that a great way to see the region when driving south from Paris is to start at Royan. This town was totally destroyed during WWII, but has a great beach. Taking the ferry, which leaves every hour from the dock, gave us the pleasant experience of being mildly adventurous. Landing at the northern tip of Médoc 30 minutes later we took the small D2 road and headed south, passing fabulous châteaux that dotted the landscape. Many are private homes and can’t be visited, but you can take a tour or do a wine tasting at most that you see in the tourist areas.

The town of Paulliac, the name associated with one of the greatest Bordeaux of all, has a great tourist information/wine store that is a must. Hundreds of bottles of Bordeaux are offered for sale there, and every one of them is sold at the same price as at the châteaux themselves.

The problem we had was deciding which of the many bottles to buy. It was a little like throwing a dart and seeing where it landed, or just closing your eyes and taking whichever your hand landed upon. So we decided to taste and try and then settle on a budget, since the wines come in a great variety of price ranges. There was a small selection of open bottles where, for a small charge, you could taste some of the wines for sale. We walked around seeing names or regions that we recognized, but how to decide? We finally picked three middle-priced Bordeaux wines marked as ready to drink (but better if allowed to age), just to have a variety.

Continuing south we stopped at Château Beychevelle, where we got a free guided tour. There is a little Viking boat with a sail at half mast on all the château’s labels and the Vineyard does, in fact, lie on the Gironde River, where many ships through the years used to stop to load or unload or to wait for the tide to rise. For me, the surprise highlight of the tour was going to the back of the château to see the gorgeous grounds stretching down to the river, which have been given the name of Versailles of Bordeaux, with reason. No wine tastings were offered here, but we bought three bottles anyway, and they turned out to be excellent.

The grounds of Chateau Beychevelle

We reached Lamarque and caught a ferry again, this time to Blay, with its citadel, very much worth a visit. Our next stop was the medieval city of St.-Emilion. Besides having good wine (we bought three bottles from different vineyards to compare, on the recommendation of the owner of one of the many wine stores there), this city is a delight to explore, especially the cathedral built entirely underground; it was carved out of a huge rock and took monks over 300 years to finish. St. Emilion himself had a small chapel that he carved out in the soft stone.

The best way to see this region is to stay in the area for a week. Highlighting our own too-short stay too was the bed-and-breakfast called La Sauvageonne, where we stayed near the small town of St.-Cier-sur-Gironde. A little oasis in an ocean of vineyards owned by delightful Marc Rudat and Alain Bienfait, it is one of the nicest inns I've seen. The rooms were huge, with luxurious bathrooms to match. For those wanting a longer stay, a gite with a kitchen is available.

Strolling around the grounds was heaven, and best of all, there was a swimming pool that we took full advantage of during hot afternoons. Alain himself prepared and served us one of the best meals we had during our time in Bordeaux, consisting of braised pork tenderloin and vegetables, a crisp salad dressed in a tangy vinaigrette, and Poire Belle Helèn for dessert. As we just happened to have a great bottle of Bordeaux from Château Beychevelle to go along with our sumptuous dinner, we couldn't have had a nicer time. Bikes are available to wend your way through nearby vineyards or down to the Gironde Estuary to gaze at the water or maybe spot a bird or two.

The grounds of Les Sauvageonne

Les Sauvageonne (Bed & Breakfast)
2 les Mauvillains
St.-Palais, France
05 57 32 92 15
www.relax-in-gironde.com

Getting there:
There are hourly TGV( high speed) trains from Paris to Bordeaux.
It is a 6 hour drive from Paris to Royan on highway A10, where a ferry can be taken to Medoc.

Eating:
Médoc area:
Le St-Julien
4km south of Paulliac via D2, 05 56 59 63 87
Built in 1850, this old village bakery with beamed ceilings servs elaborate regional cuisine.

St.-Emilion:
Le Bouchon
3 Place Marché, directly across from the underground cathedral
05 57 24 62 81
Simple meals in a great location.

Information on Bordeaux and its wine
www.greatwinecapitals.com

If you are interested in a specific wine and vineyard, call or e-mail ahead for reservations; there is seldom space left in any of the tours on the day you arrive. Some vineyards, such as Mouton Rothschild, charge a fee for tours, with an additional amount for a wine tasting.
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Something Different in Paris

2008-01-20T10:25:00.000-08:00

Even though I had heard that there was a pet cemetery on the outskirts of Paris, I was more interested in walking around the cemeteries for people, like Père Lachaise and Montmartre. It was only after a friend talked me into going with her to the pet cemetery that I wondered what had taken me so long.

It isn't that difficult or that long of a Métro ride to get there—just take a short walk from the end of line 13 in Asnières to find the Le Cimetière des Chiens D'Asnières-Sur-Seine. It's in a fantastic location right on the Seine and, although most of the tombstones are very small, it does have the feel of the typical French cemetery. As All Saints Day had occurred a week before my visit, the cemetery was full of yellow chrysanthemums, a custom in France. People had visited the graves of the pets here just as families visited departed relatives in all cemeteries across France.

There was a sweet feeling about the place as well as some melancholy. I think I would have felt the same if it had been a cemetery for children. To the owners of these pets, their animals were their children and we came upon graves with tiny miniatures of animals on them or old chew toys. One dog's grave had a hollow plastic ball full of old tennis balls that he must have loved to play with. There were photos of the pets and names like Fifi or Susan. One grave had written on it: "I have been mistreated by other people, but never by Gaston, my friend, who loved me unconditionally."

At the entrance to the cemetery stands a huge sculpture with the carving of a Saint Bernard carrying a child on its back. The dog represented is Barry, who saved the lives of 40 people in the Alps before he lost his own life attempting a rescue for the 41st time. There is also a large tombstone—with a statue of a German Shepherd Statue on top—that memorializes all of the police dogs who die in action. The grave for Rin Tin Tin had me puzzled until I did some research and found that the original Rin Tin Tin (a French cartoon name, by the way) was taken to the States by an American soldier and the rest is history

Not only dogs and cats are buried here; there are also tombstones for three horses. I was surprised to see a stone for a rabbit and also one for Cocotte, a chicken said to have lived for 25 years and to have been a wonderful companion.

My friend and I are both cat lovers and so we loved seeing the many cats that live among the tombstones. (They do other things among the tomb stones as I discovered when I got home and traced a horrible smell to the bottom of my shoe). Most of them were tame and friendly-looking; one could pet them or feed them, and they managed to weave their way around our legs as we wandered around. While we were there, some ladies came and fed some of them. We overheard one saying her cat had recently died and she came to the cemetery twice a week to walk around. It brought her comfort.
Would I recommend a first-timer to Paris visit this cemetery? Not really, as I think Père Lachaise and the Montmartre cemeteries should be seen first. But, if you have been to Paris several times, and you are a pet lover, I think this would fill the bill for something different. I found it to be a very pleasant way to spend the afternoon.

Nearby, we found the restaurant, Le Père Lamotte. It looked very plain on the outside but served some very great-tasting food. I had a salad, baked fish, 2 vegetables and a soda for 13€. Additionally, there were also some interesting shops on the streets selling Middle-Eastern spices, fabric and housewares.

Le Cimetière Des Chiens
4, pont de Clichy
92600 Asnières-sur-Seine
Restaurant au Père Lamotte
23, Bd Voltaire
92600 Asnières

German Christmas Cookies-A Year Round Delight

2008-01-16T04:40:00.000-08:00

German Christmas Cookies—A Year-Round Delight

The Christmas markets in Cologne spread throughout the city, and offer different delights, but all offer at least one variety of Christmas cookies, and usually many more than one. At the Christmas market in Strasbourg, France, another one worth a visit, visitors step off the train into a large tent filled with booth after booth offering a dizzying choice of cookies.

Most of the cookie recipes are relatively simple to make. The smell of fresh baked cookies filling the kitchen on a cold day is wonderful and not just at Christmas. In these often grey January and February days, making cookies with children or grand-children can fill the house with warmth and good memories.

Here are a few typical German cookie recipes that can be adapted in various ways to suit the season. Red and white Valentine icing and sprinkles make them perfect for February, green and white St. Patrick’s Day icing and sprinkles for March.

This first recipe will be familiar to many, as a variation of it is made throughout the American south. In Texas and Louisiana they are called Pecan Sandies, and are popular there at Christmas time too. They are easy to make and always well.

Nusse

1/2 pound butter or margarine (butter makes a MUCH better cookie)
¼ c. sugar (Splenda or another sugar substitute CAN be used but the result will not be as rich tasting)
2 ½ cups flour
1 cup pecans, chopped fine
2 teaspoons vanilla
Confectioners Sugar

Cream together the butter and the sugar, add the vanilla and the flour making thick dough. Mix in the chopped pecans. Roll the dough into balls or half-moon shaped cookies and bake them in a 300 degree preheated oven for 20 minutes. When cool, roll them in powdered sugar. These will keep for days in a closed tin box.

This next recipe is also quite easy and makes enough cookies to feed a hungry crowd. This is basically a shortbread recipe that is popular in England and in Scotland as well. The cookies can be served plain, or decorated with sprinkles or nuts. They have a rich, caramel taste. They are good if simply marked crossways with the tines of a fork, or with a single pecan or walnut half placed in the middle of each round.

German Sugar Cookies

1 pound butter
1 pound sugar (2 cups)
4 to 5 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon vanilla
Grated lemon rind (optional)

Cream together the butter and the sugar. Add the vanilla and the baking powder. Gradually add in the flour to make thick dough. Roll the dough into a ball and refrigerate 10 to 12 hours or overnight. It can be rolled out and cut with cookie cutters or rolled into a strip, and then individual cookies cut off in rounds.
Spread on an ungreased cookie sheet and bake at 375 for ten to twelve minutes, until a golden color. You can decorate the cookies with nuts before cooking them or with icing and sprinkles after they are baked. This will make several dozen cookies, again depending on the size you wish.

Oma’s Cookies

1 pound. butter
1 1/2 cups sugar
6 cups flour
4 eggs
1 lemon rind, grated

Beat together one egg and the grated lemon rind. Then cream together the butter and the sugar, add the lemon/egg mixture, and then the rest of the eggs one at a time. Gradually add the flour. Mix the dough with your hands until all the flour disappears. Refrigerate the dough 10 to 12 hours, or overnight.
Roll out the dough to about a ½ inch thickness and cut with cookie cutters. Spread on a greased cookie sheet and bake at 400 for 8 to 10 minutes—cookies should be golden with a light brown edge. Cool, and decorate as wished.

Cookies, hot chocolate and a nice fire on a January or February day can magically re-create Germany at home until a trip there can be scheduled.

Christmas in Cologne

2008-01-11T12:29:00.000-08:00

Christmas in Cologne

Germany’s famous Christmas markets open early in December and usually remain open until December 23rd, some until a few days later. But by Christmas Day, most have closed after three weeks of providing mulled wine, sparkling ornaments and a wide variety of gifts and abundant Christmas spirit.

In the market at Cologne

Cologne is a German city that embodies the Christmas spirit. Christmas markets of various specialties punctuate the city, filling squares large and small with tantalizing foods, gifts, decorative items and always sausages, pretzels, and mulled wine. One of the largest takes place near the magnificent Cologne cathedral, a site worthy of a trip to the city all by itself. The floodlit cathedral, with a huge lighted Christmas tree calling attention to it, loudly speaks of the seasonal spirit.

The cathedral at Christmas

Christmas music is exceptionally rich in this cultured German city as well. The magnificent concert hall that is almost adjacent to the cathedral has a rich program of music throughout the weeks before Christmas. A Christmas concert we attended last December offered a brass ensemble playing glittering carols and classics to an enthusiastic audience that filled the house, and one of Germany’s top opera stars, in a mesmerizing tenor voice, spoke—yes, told and did not sing in a voice that resonated above and beyond all language barriers—Christmas tales between musical numbers.

Cologne's magnificant concert hall

By Christmas eve, the markets have closed, the city shops close, and everyone prepares for the next’s days festivities, which in Germany are family oriented. Legend tells that the practice of decorating trees at Christmas began when Martin Luther, walking home one wintery night, saw the stars above glittering through the snowy branches of an evergreen tree. Others would claim that the origins of decorating a green tree with lights and fruit, gifts and other symbols of abundant life lie much, much farther back, in the magic pagan rituals associated with the winter solstice.

Whatever the beginnings of the Christmas rituals, Christmas music, Christmas spirit, it is difficult for anyone, Christian or other, not to feel the spiritual mystery of this deep winter season. The Christmas eve and Christmas day services that occur in Cologne’s many churches proclaim a continuing belief in renewal and rebirth after a desolate period of frozen life. In Germany, given its twentieth-century history, this message is particularly powerful.

Wandering In Wales

2008-01-03T09:37:00.001-08:00

Wandering in Wales

Great Britain offers some of Europe’s most interesting side roads. One of its regions, Wales, is a too-often unexplored corner of the island, at least by the greater number of Americans touring the UK. It is, though, one of the most magical—even mystical—regions, especially in mid-summer. When most of the rest of North America and these days even Europe is sweltering under pitiless temperatures, southwest Wales remains pleasant, with bright, crisp days for walking its cliff paths, exploring its beaches, or touring its castles.

Pembrokeshire in southern Wales is home to miles of protected national seashore. It is also home to a necklace of castles that are among the finest in Britain. Its history is rich with fascinating characters—it is where Henry Tudor, the first of the Tudor Dynasty and father to the now-notorious Henry VIII of the six wives, was born, in a formidable castle at Pembroke Dock. The tiny room where Henry, better known as King Henry VII, founder of the dynasty that reigned through England’s golden age, was born is as fascinating as his father Jasper Tudor’s effigy that can still be seen at St. David’s Cathedral. The cathedral dominates nearby St. David’s, Britain’s smallest ecclesiastical city.

Saint David's Cathedral

It is the stunning landscapes and seascapes, though that most attract. Tenby, a resort town on the southern coast, is a good base for touring the area. It offers a wide choice of small hotels, bed-and-breakfast guest houses, and restaurants at more appealing prices than England’s more eastern coastal resorts. A twenty-minute boat trip from the dock at Tenby leads to Caldey Island and its serene Benedictine monastery. An afternoon walking the lovely, quiet wooded paths on Caldey or climbing the rocky promontories along its edges is a visit to a happier, calmer, safer world. Returning to Tenby, one can find lively pubs to fill a rather rowdier evening, with lots of Britain’s famous ales.

Tenby can be reached from either Carmarthen or Swansea. Frequent trains go between these Welsh cities and London. The most satisfying way, however, to explore the nooks and crannies of Wales is to rent a car and brave driving on the left side of the road along with the British. Not nearly as daunting as it appears, after an hour or two at the wheel, driving on the “wrong” side becomes one of the most exciting and rewarding aspects of a Welsh visit. A car allows stops for drinks or snacks at tiny, beautiful bays like Laugharne, where the twentieth century poet Dylan Thomas lived and wrote, and a visit to the boathouse where he produced some of his most well-known poems.

The food is good as well. Pub lunches and dinners offer moderate priced standards, extended by the wealth of seafood available in these coastal areas. Fish and chips is a great casual choice, but in Tenby, some of the pubs, the more luxurious hotels in St. David’s and in towns like Aberaeron and Fishguard menus will offer choices to suit the most sophisticated tastes.

harbor at Aberaeron

The red Welsh dragon can be seen everywhere, although in this English-speaking segment of Wales known as “Little England Beyond Wales” little Welsh will be seen or heard. But “Creoso y Cymru”—Welcome to Wales—offers a hearty welcome nearly everywhere. North Wales, more familiar to Americans and more frequently included on standard tours, is fascinating in its own way, but this more remote southwestern corner of the country should not be overlooked.

The Covered Arcades of Paris

2007-12-30T08:18:00.000-08:00

The Covered Arcades of Paris

Paris is full of famous monuments known the world over that are a delight to see and visit. They are huge, seen from miles away and from many areas of Paris-turn a corner and there is one of them. The first time visitor has to see them all-the Eiffel Tower, Arch de Triumph, Notre Dame. Their presence is a testiment to hundreds of years of history that rolled along in this part of the world, sometimes built on top of temples and relics from thousands of years ago.

All of these shrines to man, and sometimes, to God, should be seen. They are amazing. But sometimes it is refreshing to see a part of history from the not so distant past, as close as 150 years ago, in the galeries, or covered passages of Paris which give one a feel for Paris as it was in the 19th century. These first “shopping malls” allowed shoppers respite from the weather, not to mention the open sewers and unpaved streets outside as Haussman had not yet begun his monumental work which not only changed Paris to the city it is today but constructed the much needed underground sewer system. There were 150 of these arcades by the mid 19th century but only 18 remain today, nearly all on the right bank.Each arcade that remains is unique. Some have been beautifully restored to their original splendor, some are slowly continuing their descent into disrepair.

It is possible to see seven of these arcades all in one area, some of them running in a straight line one after another. A good place to start is the Galerie Vero Dodat located near Rue du Rivoli at 19 rue Jean-Jacques-Rousseau still remaining much as it was 150 years ago with its marble floors and painted ceilings.

From here it is a short walk to Palais Royal location of one of the most charming gardens in Paris often unvisited by visitors. Marvelous covered galeries run down each side of the building with columns and speared fences topped with gold marching along. Interesting shops line each side and Colette (the movie Gigi was based on one of her short stories) lived at the very end above the children’s playground. Continue on through the archway on the right, cross the narrow street and go up the stairs there, feeling like a Parisian who knows a great shortcut. You will enter a short alley called Passage des Deux Pavillions with a store selling interesting postcards. Crossing the street and to the right is Passage Vivienne, perhaps the most exquisite of all the remaining arcades with shafts of light coming down from the glass celling to the marble floor. Two great stops here are LeGrand Filles and Fils for a wine tasting or a great variety of wine accoutrement, such as wine glasses and cork screws. A little further down in A Priori The for a light lunch and a cup of tea. Next is Passage Cobert, now owned by the Bibliotheque Nationale.

Exit Passage Vivienne, turn right and walk to Passage Choiseul. This one lacks charm and sophistication, and is a more working class environment, but is lined with interesting shops and it leads to Passage Panoramas, a short walk away at 10 Rue St-Marc, which actually did once posses panaoramas in two large rotundas, now gone. There are shops here selling stamps for serious collectors and some very interesting antique postcards fun to look at to see how Paris has changed.

Directly across the street from here is my favorite passage, Passage Jouffroy lined with fun toys stores, kitchen ware shops, small restaurants and the Musee Grevin, the equivalent of Madme Tussaud’s, home of wax figures of famous people. It is a relaxing passage to walk through, looking up at the clock near the roof, the glass ceiling, the feeling of time past, with its charm and simpler times. At the end, across the street, is yet one more, Passage Verdeau, a contiuation of the previous two, but not as charming.

Carcassonne and the Hotel de la Cite

2007-12-20T09:34:00.000-08:00

Special hotels are often found in very special places. I once stayed at a hotel perched in the mountains right next to Machu Pichu. At night, after the crowds left, we had the whole place to ourselves and could wander around at will. The same was true of Mont St. Michel. There is something special about a beautiful place when it is almost deserted. My husband and I experienced all this magic all over again on a wonderful trip to the enchanting city of Carcassone, where we stayed at an equally enchanting hotel, the Hotel de la Cité. It turned out to be the perfect hotel for the perfect stay.

What makes this particular hotel extraordinary is that it is embedded into the ancient walls surrounding this fortified town, which seems to be lost in time.
Upon approach, the walled city of Carcassone can be seen from a distance. Ominous and magical at the same time, it is a fortress out of a fairytale with its fifty-two watch towers and double wall, the result of sixteen centuries of work.
No sooner had we pulled into a parking area, we were picked up by the small blue van sent by the hotel, driven through an old gate and up to the doors of the hotel. As the van inched its way past a group of onlookers who must have wondered if we were royalty, royalty is what we felt like stepping into the marble floored reception hall filled with antiques and a resplendent odor of Easter lilies that had been arranged in an enormous vase and placed in the middle of the sumptuous room where we were checked in.
Hotel de la Cité is one of the Orient-Express Hotels found all over the world, renowned not only for the train of that name, but for their attention to luxury that keeps a faithful clientèle coming back again and again. From the moment we arrived until the moment we left, we knew that the only thing we had to worry about was how we were going to spend the blissful evening before us.
Built on the site of a former Episcopal palace, and in operation since 1909 (it was purchased in 1997 by Orient-Express) the Hotel de la Cité has a long guest roster that includes Rudyard Kipling, Winston Churchill, Colette, James Stewart, Goldie Hawn and many other celebrities.
The Hotel has three restaurants. The most famous is a gourmet bastion, La Barbacane that features dishes such as free-range guinea-fowl rubbed with vanilla and carpaccio of foie-gras on a bed of pink lentil salad. A less formal lunch or dinner can be enjoyed at the brasserie Chez Saskia with its large selection of traditional French cuisine including cassoulet, the famous dish of this region.
When the weather is beautiful, there is a lovely restaurant in the Jardin de l'Evêque where a meal can be enjoyed under trees in a garden. There is also an area for private wine tastings or medieval candlelit dinners in the wine cellar with its arched brick ceiling, red terracotta floors and bottle-lined oak panelling.
Our room was perfect too: a marble-lined bathroom with a sumptuous tub to luxuriate in, a signature container at the foot of the bed where, at the touch of a button, the TV rose up for viewing on the horizontal. The room had a beautiful view of some of the city walls, and we were able to look down onto the busy narrow streets snaking below.

The best part of our visit was after dinner when we wandered around the now empty streets. The walls, now lit up, and the calmness everywhere made us feel like kids again, and we climbed up and down stone stairways, peeking through portals along the top of the outer wall, marveling at the city down below. That was when, gazing up at a star-studded sky, I had a smidgeon of an idea of what it must have been like centuries ago to stand on these very ramparts and know that no matter what goes on outside the walls of Carcassonne, time rolls on.

Web site for city: www.carcassonne.culture.fr
Web site for Hotel: www.orient-express.com
Hotel de la Cité
Place Auguste Pont
1100 Carcassonne, France
tel. +33-468 71 98 71
fax +33-468 71 50 15

An Unexpected Work of Art

2007-12-14T13:58:00.000-08:00

Paris Meridian Medallions
Would you believe that there is some art in Paris that most visitors never see and often walk on unknowingly? Few people are aware of these 135 bronze medallions embedded in the pavement of Paris, which start north in Montmartre and go clear across Paris, where they end at the Cité Universitaire on the edge of the city limits and Parc Montsouris.

You will notice one of them while visiting the Palais Royal; a little bronze circle embedded in the pavement with the name Arago and north and south represented by the letter N and S .You may not know who Arago is and may have read of these medallions in the best selling book, The Da Vinci Code, where you learn that the medallions represented a meridian line that was used by France.

Many countries had their own meridian lines on one time, including France. The French were very advanced in the science of time and the measurement of the earth. French scientist Abbé Jean Picard first measured the length of a degree of longitude and computed from it the size of the earth in 1655. In fact, the metric system was started at this time, the meter being 1 ten-millionth of a meridian quadrant from the North Pole to the equator. The meridian line was used both for navigation and time keeping. France, along with Ireland, adhered to the Paris Meridian for time keeping until 1911 and for navigation until 1914, when it finally converted to the Greenwich Meridian with the rest of the world.

Why is Arago on this medallion? He was a scientist and a statesman who became director of the Paris Observatory where he lived until his death in 1853. There is a monument to him across Arago Boulevard in Place Ile de Sein in the 14th arrondissement but the statue of him was melted down during World War II and never replaced. In 1995 Paris commissioned Dutch conceptual artist Jan Dibbits to create a new memorial. And now you can follow the path of this art through gardens, streets, buildings, courtyards and quais, through the 2nd, 6th, 9th, 10th and 12th arrondissements. As you do so you will notice that practically nothing built in Paris is on any straight north, south, east or west axis, neither streets or buildings. You can find a medallion on one side of a building and have to go blocks out of your way to get to the other side to find yet another medallion. The whole thing can become rather addictive.

Finding a list of the medallions with the address and general location of them gives one the feeling that they would be easy to find but you will soon find that this is not the case. It is helpful to note the direction of north and south on the medallions themselves and follow an imaginary line from one to another. You will discover that a few have either been dug up leaving an empty hole or covered with asphalt in others. People may stop you to ask if they can help you find the lost object you appear to be looking for as you scan the ground looking for these mysterious speres. You will often confuse what you think is a possible medallion for one of the many round gas or plumbling coverings which lie all over the pavements of Paris.
You may have hope of locating all of the medallions in one day and it could be done but you will find that after the first three exhausting hours on the first day that you will want to spread out the time to two or three days. A good place to start is at the locked gates of the observatory garden where Arago once did his research. The observatory itself is built on the line of the Parisioan Meridian with the four facades oriented towards the four points of the compass. You will find the monument to Arago with several medallions from there and ended up in beautiful Parc Montsouris where the marker for the southern edge stands. Going straight north from this you will find four more medallions and discover they are always embedded in cement or asphalt, never dirt or grass. Perhaps the next day you can through the Saint Germain des Pres area, through the Luxembourg gardens (there are six there) and even go into Saint Sulpice church where there is an obelisk on the north/south axis in a corner. The early church officials used to use this to watch the movement of the sun to determine the date of Easter. It has nothing to do with the Meridian Line itself despite what Dan Brown said in his book and, by the way, was never called The Rose Line.

Walk through the Palais Royal then cross the street to the Louvre where not only does a line of medallions run through the courtyard behind the I.M. Pei pyramid, but there is also one inside the Louvre. Go on the other side of the Louvre, find one on the quai, crossed Pont des Arts and find one in front of the Institut de France and then one behind it.

The most northern marker is in Montmartre but can't be seen as it is in a private courtyard. You can walk downhill from here through Montmartre finding medallions all the way to Pigalle where most had been removed at some point leaving either round holes or nothing. The line continues all the way down to Boulevard Haussmann.

It turns out to be a very interesting way to see Paris.You don't go to just one metro stop to see a monument such as the Opéra, but walk across neighborhoods with a new eye, realizing how small Paris can be, how connected all of the neighborhoods are. It turns out to be an adventurous way to explore Paris.
For the location of the medallions visit:
christophermolloy.com » outdoor living » gps » paris meridian / arago medallions

Cinque Terra

2007-12-09T23:31:00.000-08:00

Italy's Cinque Terra has become a popular destination, one of the country's most visited. It is, in fact, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Once you have visited you understand why this area is so seductive. There are eighteen kilometers of sheer rocky coastline punctuated with picturesque villages that spill down the hillsides to the sea below. Although it is full of tourists now it is also full of charm and ambiance. The Cinque Terra refers to five small villages, each with its own personality: Monterossa al Mare, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola and Riomaggiore. They string together side by side along the coast and are connected by a train line that seems to run mostly through tunnels. The train starts at la Spezia and it is the best way to get to these isolated towns. Driving from France is a tedious trip through tunnel after tunnel and winding roads that will have you arriving hours later than you think you will when you look at the map. There is a local ferry service between the villages as well as a trail between them. It takes about five hours of walking, starting at the first one and ending at the fifth. A few places are rather rough and it can be hard going, and it is physically challenging to say the least but a wonderfully exciting and satisfying trip experience. There are breathtaking views all along the way

By driving and arriving at Vernazza you may or may not find parking spaces outside the village. The local inhabitants will, for a fee, keep an eye on your car during the night. Walking into the village (driving isn't allowed), you will discover that there are no formal hotels, except in the more touristy town of Riomaggiore. There has only been a little adjustment to the influx of tourists by the locals and there will perhaps be some discomforts for tourists used to all-inclusive excursions with pre-arranged reservations. If you arrive on your own, you will find the locals offering rooms at reasonable fees and if the one you had hoped for should happen to be booked, the owner will probably lean out their window, and call across the way to see if a neighbor has a room. Luxury won't be found this way, the bells of the local church can wake one hourly, and the trains can be heard whizzing by, but it is a fun way to spend your time there and you get to see how charming the area is when most of the tourists have gone home for the day.

It is easy to imagine how it once was in simpler times as you sit at the table of a cafe in one of these small villages, drinking wine grown on the vines that you can see on the terraced hills up above and munching on olives grown on the nearby trees. You can eat fish, as seafood is plentiful, caught in the waters by the town from the boats tied up in the tiny harbors. Try a glass of the locally made sweet wine called sciachletra as an after dinner drink.

Lavender Route 3

2007-12-05T23:08:00.001-08:00

Route 3: Lavender and Faience

Valensole, the home of the best of the lavender festivals, held annually, can be reached from the larger city of Manosque, via the D6. As you approach the village, lavender fields all in bloom treat to your eyes and your nose. Normally held the third weekend in July, the festival brings visitors from all over the south for its lavender market, food booths and simply the fun of the day. Booths selling lavender products of all kinds line the main street of the village, and the products stir the imagination: lavender soaps, of course, perfumes, essential oils, but also lavender sausage, lavender ice cream, lavender lamps, and large armfuls of freshly cut lavendeFrom Valensole, the D8 leads to Metzel or you can take D953 to Puimoisson and head into Riez, which holds a famous week-end market specializing in Provencal products. Here you will also find, in a nearby field, a recreated portion of a Roman temple and a 6th century baptistry.

To the east, about 15 kilometers away on D952, is Moustiers-Ste-Marie. Moustiers produced one of the most famous faiences in France in the eighteenth century, maintains the tradition of its production today. Faience is a clay-based French pottery distinguished by regional designs--one of the other most famous is the Breton pattern made in Quimper--and Moustier's patterns are not inexpensive but certainly elegant, as they once graced the tables of France's royalty and aristocratic families. If you look closely, as you approach this village on the mountainous route, you will see a silver star suspended on a chain between two mountain peaks, put there by a fourteenth-century knight who survived the crusades. This is a scenic village, more than worth a visit for its charm even without the lure of the faience. There is a vigorous climb to a church at the top of the village with a great view of the region spread below and the stream rushing through it. From here, either return to Manosque through Riez to Greoux–les-Bains, an old bath town of the Romans with a pretty village center and pedestrian walk, a good place for a night's stopover, or as a base for exploring this region of upper Provence. Alternatively, you can carry on through the truly breath-taking Grand Canyon du Verdon, making your way to the city of Castellane to spend the night. An added advantage to the area is that in July when much of Provence is baking under the summer sun, this region is cooler and quite pleasant, especially in the evenings.

Lavender Route 2

2007-12-03T23:05:00.000-08:00

Route 2: Peter Mayle Country

Starting at the little city of Apt- try to be there on Saturday for one of the largest markets in Provence- go west on N100 in the direction of Goult. Another starting point can be the charming village of Lourmarin. Take D943 in the direction of Bonnieux. This is a breath-taking drive though a valley that leads to a climbing road, white cliffs on each side, studded with oaks and pines.Bonnieux is at the top of this climb. A stop can be made here for a look at the stunning view but it is really just on the way to the rest of our drive.

Taking D36, you will pass the exit to the village of Lacoste, with the ruined chateaux of the Marquis de Sade, the man who gave the language the word “sadist.”. Be sure to stop at the village of Goult, a peaceful and lovely stop, quite prosperous looking with several interesting looking restaurants and much more compelling to visit than the often mentioned Menerbes of Peter Mayle fame.Carry on to Coustellet changing to highway D2 in the direction of Gordes. As you near this town you will pass many walls built of stone, topped in an unusual way with slabs of stones lying sideways. All of the homes are built of stone, making one wonder how there is enough soil for anything to grow here. But things do grow, with lavender often clinging to the rocks and village markets selling summer produce. The melons are especially delicious in this part of France.Gordes resides at the top of yet another hill-you will get a fabulous view of it as you drive up the hill and understand why it was used as a lookout point by the French Resistance during the Second World War to watch the movements of German troups in the valley below.Gordes is a popular tourist center, with shops and restaurants, and is a charming place to stop for lunch. You will see signs for directions to the Borries, an interesting ancient village of rock huts occupied a homes until the coming of electricity.

Continue on D2 to Joucas, a small village with many climbing rock-lined walkways and lovely doors and windows. From here follow signs to Sault via D943, through more lavender country. In August, a lavender festival is held here. During the harvest period of lavender, it isn’t unusual to find yourself behind a slow truck or tractor which are packed with bundles of lavender and, when the lovely fragrance of it fills your car, you won’t mind the slow pace.Return the same route back and this time head for St Saturnin les Apt, the home of a ruined chateau at the top of a climb, and D111will return you back to Apt. This area is well known for the ochre that was once mined here and you will pass areas where the soil is a rich red or gold color. Roussillon is well worth a stop for being both an interesting village and the site of a walk through some of the rich colored canyons. In many of the stores you can buy packets of the ochre colored powder in many different ranges of shades that can be mixed with paint and sponged on a wall back home, taking a little of Provence back with you- sunshine on the wall.

Lavender Route 1

2007-12-02T07:42:00.000-08:00

Route 1: Towns and Villages of Upper Provence

Begin your day at Forcalquier. If you can, be here on a Monday. This unspoiled town is the site of Monday morning market known throughout France as the largest in Provence. The stalls selling fruit, vegetables, local crafts and art, hats, handmade soaps of infinite variety and tantalizing scent, dancingly colored provençal fabrics will tempt you irresistibly. Leaving town you may get lost as roads are badly marked in this area but don’t be concerned—getting lost is part of the fun, and taking any road will inevitably take you to a new experience.

You will travel to and through villages sometimes too small even to have a bakery—startling in France!—and eventually reach road signs pointing you in the direction of the larger towns. But if you can follow the D950 you will be on a scenic road leading to Limans, then to Le Rocher d’Ongles. Continue on the D950 to Banon, famous for its goat cheese wrapped in chestnut leaves and tied in little bundles with twine. Leaving Banon, follow the D51 to the D201 until you reach Simiane-la-Rotund. You will see this village perched high on a hill overlooking fields of lavender; it is one of the famous perched villages of Provence. It is a good stopping place for coffee, food, photos or simply to visit the local artists selling their wares here. A huge rotund tower at the top, and the hollyhocks blooming everywhere in summer make this an interesting village to walk.

Leaving Banon, follow the D51 to Rustrel, then to Gignac, where you can take the D33to Viens and then Cereste. At Cereste, go in the direction of Apt on N100. Keep your eyes open on the left in about 20 Kilometers for the sign to Saignon. Another perched village, Saignon, is a fascinating place to wander and perhaps to stay the night. It would also be a good base for relaxed exploring in the region

Driving The Lavender Roads of Provence

2007-11-30T00:40:00.000-08:00

These route suggestions are for summer time when the lavender is blooming, but it isn't too early to begin thinking ahead and making plans. We love lavender time in Provence--the air is intoxicating with the heavenly smell of the lavender and the purple color of the fields a feast for the eyes. These routes will take you away from the beaten paths and into villages and regions that are too seldom explored.You can get maps outlining Lavender drives from the Tourist Information Center in Gordes. These, though, take you on a different journey.

Driving Provence’s Lavender Roads

Following the lavender harvest in Provence in the months of July and August offers any lover of rural France a sublime travel experience, one that will drive away the stress of the most dedicated workaholic. Lavender grows in abundance in parks and gardens and along the roadsides, but the commercial fields of lavender grown as a profitable agricultural vocation can only be found by traveling back roads by car. They richly repay the time and effort dedicated to seeking them out.

Lavender grows in an immense area in scattered regions of Provence, a larger and more varied region than the tourist stereotypes suggest. Several directions offer day-long journeys punctuated with visits to colorful villages along the way. You will want to stop alongside of the road, walk into the lavender fields to take photos, marvel at the color and savor the fragrance. Don’t cut it—it is the farmer’s livelihood!--but you will find roadside stands where you can buy bouquets and bundles of lavender or bottles of pure lavender oil from the families that grow and produce it. In nearby villages you will find a princely selection of lavender products: dishes and pottery of all kinds painted with the flowers on them, kitchen, bedroom and bath linens embroidered with lavender flowers, and soap of all sorts to fill your place back home with that wonderful, clean scent. Although lavender only grows in the summer, the villages along the lavender routes are worth visiting at any time of year. Here are suggested routes through areas that provide a rich Provencal experience. If you want to visit the real Provence, these routes will take you into the heartlands and away from the areas usually included in mass-marketed tours.

Our first Lavender Route to follow in next post.

The Streets of Paris--Wintertime

2007-11-27T07:15:00.000-08:00

Paris enjoys a reputation as the most romantic city in the world—hardly a place that one would call a “Side Road” destination. It is the most chosen destination in the world for tourists to visit, with millions of visitors every year. Its beauty is undeniable: the Seine curving it's way through the middle of of the city, crossed by bridges that are works of art in themselves, the view from one of the boats that make their way up and down the river every day and every evening lighting up the monuments as they pass, giving a different point of view of each bridge the Louvre with its brilliantly faceted pyramid, Notre Dame’s graceful buttresses-- all this is enchanting.

At night Paris is a special delight. Evening is a most romantic time. The phrase "City of Light" is less a cliché than an obvious description when wandering around the quiet streets at night seeing famous monuments lit up against a dark sky. There is a special poignancy in looking into a room with its lights on, seeing a timbered wood ceiling or a tapestry hanging on a wall or a chandelier sparkling. Occasionally you see parties going on with music and laughter spilling into the sreets along with the light. A couple can be standing on a tiny balcony drinking wine, their hair lit from behind with a halo of light. Early evening when the lights are coming on is a magic time in Paris.

The popular song said, “I love Paris in the Springtime, I love Paris in the Fall.” We do too, but we especially love Paris in the winter. By November, Paris is beginning to put on her winter dress. Christmas decorations appear in the windows of the department stores, an annual delight for children. At Galeries Lafayette, there is a small, elevated wooden walkway in front of the animated windows for the tiny tots, making it impossible for taller, older adults to block their view. The frosty air and the sparkling lights make it impossible not to feel the holiday spirit, even in the midst of frustrations with the transportation strike that hasn’t entirely paralyzed the city but has certainly frayed tempers and drained patience.
If Paris doesn’t quite seem right for the category Europe’s “Side Roads,” there are nevertheless side streets here that do indeed qualify, that bear much closer exploration than they usually get from Americans on short visits, especially first-time visitors. Yet some of the city’s best charms are found there.

Eighteenth century bells on the roof of a convent tucked away in the depths of the 12th arrondissement.

Visiting the brocante on Saturday took us into the upper reaches of the ever-popular Marais, a well-visited section of the city in its lower reaches. Easily reached from the busy square of Republique, which bustles with contemporary Parisian life, the Carrefour du Temple, or Temple Square, houses an immense nineteenth-century iron covered market space, yesterday filled with brocanteurs.

The square itself was the site of the central chateau of the Knights Templar, one of their many throughout Europe, but one of the richest. Bankers and financiers who invented international financial exchange, by the fourteenth century they had become so rich and so powerful they threatened the Kings, particularly Philippe the Fair, King of France. He had them arrested in 1307, in an incident that has rung notoriously down through the centuries, had Jacques de Molay, the Grand Master of the Templars, burned with 54 Templar knghts in 1314 on the Isle de la Cite, the central island in the Seine that flows through the middle of the city. Legend says that the King watched from the towers of the royal palace there, vestiges of which can still be seen in the Conciergerie that became a terrifying prison in the eighteenth century and remains a working prison today. As the flames engulfed him, Jacques deMolay cursed the king and the royal family, predicting that by the end of the century, they would all have died and disappeared. The curse, indeed, came true, as the family line died out in a saga of soap-opera dimensions.
Later, in the eighteenth century, the Temple also became a prison. The ill-fated King of France, Louis XVI, was held there with his wife, Marie Antoinette, their two children, and his sister, Madame Elizabeth. He was taken from there on a cold winter day in January in 1793 to what is now the Place de la Concorde and to the guillotine that stood there, and beheaded before a large crowd. His poor wife was moved to the Conciergerie before her own execution several months later. The saddest memory held here, though, is of their young son, who disappeared into the depths of the prison and into the mists of history. His bones, proving the cruelties that he endured after losing his parents, were found several years ago and buried in the magnificent cathedral at St. Denis, along with the memories if not the actual remains of generations of his royal ancestors.
A map on the corner of the wall commemorates these events, reminding the visitor, as so much in Europe, of the layers of human experience that reverberate on every street and through even the most ordinary-seeming buildings.

Browsing The Side Streets of Paris

2007-11-24T23:14:00.000-08:00

Paris has its side streets and its unique pleasures one of which is the brocante. Brocantes are a particularly French diversion—some are true antiques markets, some more like flea markets, and they can move right on down to what the French call “vide greniers” which means “empty attics”. There are always lots of them in the summer in Paris but fewer in the winter, so when we read of one on Saturday and Sunday in one of Paris’ most interesting areas, we had to go. The day was cold but sunny and the market huge and sprawling all around the Temple square and on the side streets leading to it.
We had a great time browsing the booths, chatting with friendly brocanteurs, and making the occasional purchase when we simply couldn’t resist. The cold finally drove us in to a nearby café for coffee and chocolate. We were sitting near the window when Bonnie noticed the couple at the next table. "Look at that cute dog behind you." she said, and Linda quickly took a picture of a sweet little Jack Russel Terrier sitting on the chair at the table with its head nestled in a warm coat and muffler, fast asleep. The young man sitting closest to us then said, in good American English, “Can you tell us the difference between a café au lait and a café crème?” So we did, and this led to further conversation. Jesse and Art were from Asheville, North Carolina, and the dog was Maggie the Wonderdog. Maggie is famous, has been on Jay Leno’s television show, and is extraordinary in her mathematical ability, adding, substracting, multiplying and dividing. She has other talents as well. . Maggie's owners, along with Maggie, were in France to be on a local TV show where Maggie is to perform. Maggie’s web site is http://www.maggiethewonderdog.com/ , where anyone can see see clips from several of her shows, including Jay Leno’s. The owner told us that she didn't even really teach Maggie how to count, that she learned on her own. Although you never know who you will meet at a cafe in Paris, and it will usually be someone interesting, Maggie is our favorite celebrity café encounter.

Welcome!

2007-11-23T10:48:00.000-08:00

Europe's allure stays strong throughout the world. Living in Provence and in Paris, we often see travellers and tourists--there IS a difference--staring wide-eyed at the major monuments, strolling on the Champs Elysees, puzzling over maps trying to figure out where to go. Our love affairs with travel began long enough ago that we have "done" the major sites of most of Europe and America and some of the rest of the world. In the process we have learned the pleasure of leaving the beaten track and taking the side roads.We are sharing our experiences in taking the byways of Europe. We hope to find like-minded travellers who want to go beyond being tourists, sliding by fascinating places in a bus and moving from one major museum to another with little interaction with the residents of the towns and villages, especially the ones they didn't visit. We'll include restaurants, recipes, a little bit of history, tips on the artists and their backgrounds, and lots and lots of recommendations for easy travelling on the byways.
Labels: Why we love the side roads