Tail Wind…Head Wind
January 30, 2007

It was on a Monday, January 30th; a drizzly and cold afternoon that I left for my sabbatical in Europe. One year ago today.
I never realized that the journey I was about to embark on would change my life forever. This may sound contrived, in fact, it sounds like an old cliché, however I can safely say that is exactly what happened. How anyone could not be changed by what I experienced is beyond me. First, let me clarify something. I have struggled with Fibromyalgia for the past twenty years. For years I didn’t tell anyone, at least those outside of my family and close friends. They didn’t understand it; neither did I. Nor did my doctors. Even then, I tried not complain when I felt like I had five or ten pound sandbags hanging from my body. I tried not to complain about the fact that I couldn’t sleep because the pain was too awful, or that I sometimes felt so foggy that I couldn’t remember things, or that all I could do was lay on the couch because I was so fatigued. I was apprehensive about taking this trip because I didn’t know whether I could pull my own weight (which, because of my inactivity had grown bigger over the years…thank god for my sense of humor!). But, I was determined to live my dream, a dream that I had been talking about for about five years. A sabbatical, is a time for growth and contemplation. It is a time to recharge the batteries and bring back new ideas and observations. As I said above, this period of life has changed me forever. So come, journey with me! Below are my observations, which at times are quite personal.

January 30, 2006
We left SF on British Airways at 4 pm. It was misting, with intermittent rain. I hate to fly, so you can imagine what was going through my head. An anti-anxiety pill was helpful, as were my prayers. BA was on time, efficient, clean. The best part was the map tracking system where we could watch flight path, miles, MPH, time of travel. I slept two hours and wasn’t overly anxious. This was my first ten hour flight in 35 years. Overall, I did fairly well.

January 31, 2006
We arrived at London’s Heathrow Airport at 10 am, thanks to a strong headwind, or was it tailwind! My colleague, BF and I took the Heathrow Express to Paddington Station; this was fairly painless. I had two suitcases on wheels with a backpack and bag. BF on the other hand was going to be teaching in Paris, she had two big suitcases, and I mean HUGE, a backpack and another case strapped across her shoulders. Not only was I sleep deprived and jet-lagged, but I had this grandiose idea that when I arrived at Paddington, I would see the old locomotives with steam coming out like I had seen in my Hercule Poirot movies. I was sorely disappointed, as instead I saw Burger King, KFC, and Starbucks. There were some sleek and some run-down trains. After Paddington we had to pick up the Yellow Circle Line to our hotel. Paddington had lifts; the other stations did not. :-<

Two women helped us carry our bags, and a man just picked up Bridget’s bags and ran them up the steps. He called over his shoulder, “go help your mate.” I started to laugh probably from being sleep deprived and exhausted. BF was not amused. It was terrible, moral of the story-when traveling with heavy bags-take a cab. We finally got to the Park International Hotel on Cromwell Rd (Gloucester Rd tube stop). Ah, we were home for three days.

The hotel was fairly old, with small rooms and some upgrades. One thing you realize quickly is that first class in Europe usually means third class in the U.S. It seemed to us that everything was SMALL. Then again, we are not wee little lasses! The staff was very helpful and wanted to please. Of course, I thought it was charming. We found out that everything in London was very expensive. On January 31st, the pound was worth 1.75, which meant that the American dollar didn’t go very far. We were hungry; our lunch of Thai soup, yellow curry (which was the best I ever had) and rice for two cost 26 lbs. - $46.00 in USD. With the tip it came to $50. That was it; we went into our “cheap mode.”

That night, we walked the ‘hood. We were staying in South Kensington, a relatively middle-class area and only two tube stops away from High Kensington, where Princess Diana lived. It was a lovely, quiet area – quaint, restaurants (mostly Indian and Thai), with unique shops, and mews. The major eatery there was Waitrose, a supermarket with a take-out deli. Take-out deli’s were a big hit - it appeared that most Londoners ate this way – go to the deli, buy a little salad and some curry, piece of Naan and that is it. We wanted to be like the Londoner’s so that night for dinner we had – a bottle of Shiraz, olives (Moroccan black cured), celery salad (yogurt and apples), Greek salad and 1/2 chicken -12.68 lbs. - $22.00. It was as good as lunch but cheaper. We were learning.
THROUGH MY EYES…Traveling from Heathrow airport to the city I saw run-down row houses, very sterile, very uniform. There were tons of graffiti. Three Londoners (white) asked if we had ever been here before – I said 35 yrs. ago, they responded “well, London has changed very much since then”…I took their comments and raised eyebrows to mean “look at all the minorities in London.” It is quite evident that London is no longer the bastion of white culture. Today I saw Chinese, Indian, Thai, Jamaican, and Arabs, just to name a few. London is very much like NY with all the hustle and bustle. Americans are so spoiled. We have been hijacked by “Wal-Martitis.” If everything isn’t big whether it be a snack, drink, dinner, hotel room, cab, we’re critical. Yet, I found that “downsized” was just as efficient and welcome. I was already beginning to think like a European.

Wednesday, February 1, 2006
I was so jet-lagged I didn’t even know it!
We went to the National Gallery after visiting Westminister Abbey and perused the Parliament buildings. Parliament was going to be in session so there were “bobbies” everywhere. They were friendly, however, it was very clear that we could not enter the grounds. When we came up from the tube there was Big Ben as majestic as could be-I got misty-eyed as I just couldn’t believe that I was standing under the eye of Big Ben. When it peels the time you need to stop and look at it and think about what it signifies to the history of not only London, but the entire United Kingdom. BF asked why I was so “a-twitter”, and I said wait until you get to the Louvre! Our visit to Westminister was inspiring. Of course, if one looks at it as a bunch of old dead white men and women, well then you will not be able to appreciate the place. If you look at it from a historical perspective, then you’re in for a real treat. First, no photography is allowed which bummed me out. But, when you look at the fact that Queen Elizabeth I was buried here, well…she was a monarch when all monarchs were men, which gives her a special place in history. Her death mask was carved out of marble. This is important because there is not many photos or replicas of Queen Elizabeth. Her sister Mary, (AKA Bloody Mary) is also buried nearby, considering their rivalry I’m surprised they are buried so close.

Prime Ministers were buried there, and as you walk you are walking on the graves of those who have been buried in the floors of the Abbey. Cecil Rhodes, England’s greatest imperialist in South Africa is buried here. What gave me comfort with that is that he was also a homosexual so I guess that didn’t matter at the time, as long as he was bringing money into the Crown’s coffers! Ask what you can do for your country! Prime Ministers to kings to poets all occupy the Abbey. The stained glass windows are magnificent as is the aisle to the altar where Charles and Diana got married. Diana’s funeral was also here; again, the length of the great hall wears you out!

After the Abbey we stopped at a pub on Whitehall St. for some lunch. This area is where the seat of power is, although it was difficult to see much as there is security everywhere. It made me very sad that the public couldn’t have access because of the obsession with security. I’m not passing judgment, just stating a fact. We passed 10 Downing St, couldn’t get near it as the PM was in Parliament and no one was allowed down the street. Whitehall or “The Mall” as it is called has statues of many of England’s great heroes. I wouldn’t call all of them heroes as many were imperialists and carried out England’s imperialist policies, however, even I, anti-imperialist to the core, was in awe. In addition, they had statues of WWI generals who sent their troops to the slaughter, but again, they are a part of England’s great traditions. The Fish and Chips were good, not great. It is served with either regular peas or mashed peas. We chose the regular peas, figuring we could mash our own! We had tea, as it was cold and nasty. Tea is extremely strong – little herbal tea to be found.

After refreshing ourselves, we went to the National Gallery. This time, BF was all a-twitter. I was not until I recognized things like Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, which are very familiar to many. I understand this is one of the best collections, however, I’m rather ignorant of art and know what I like and do not like. I don’t like religious art. I commented that no one really knew what Jesus looked like so why all these different interpretations. BF said that is what is important is that they are interpretations depending on the venue and time. I was also feeling pretty terrible by now (1:30 pm). Between the jetlag, concrete floors and cold nasty weather my bones and muscles were really weary. I sat out most of the gallery, visited the gift shop and then waited for BF. We decided to take a break and visit St. Martin of the Fields that is across the street. They have a lovely café called the Café in the Crypt that is located among the catacombs of the church. This church is famous for its musical concerts which are known the world over. BF and I had a snack of scones, jam, clotted crème and tea. After that we meandered back to the National Gallery as she still wanted to see a few exhibits. I found a soft chair and waited. We left for the hotel about 6 pm.

This night we took ourselves out to dinner at Med Kitchen in Kensington. It was about three blocks from our hotel. Did I mention that it was so “f….. cold” that we could barely walk? BF had a chicken Caesar salad and I had a lamb burger and chips. She wanted my lamb burger. Delicious. We each had two glasses of vino and went back to the hotel happy and full. We were still on SF time, went to bed around 10 pm and got up at 3 pm. What the hell time was it really? Who knows? Who cares? You’re in London! What to do? We each got on our laptops and BF decided to get fancy and blew a fuse in the room that blacked us out. We just hoped that we didn’t blow out the entire hotel! There was nothing to do except try and go back to sleep!

Thursday, February 2, 2006
It was another lousy night of sleep. It was very hot in the room; if you open the window then the traffic from Cromwell Rd. was too noisy. Again, I woke up at 3 pm. I decided to stay in bed and just lie there. We had breakfast at the hotel then took off for the British Museum. Breakfast included cereal, toast, cheeses and wurst, juice and either tea or coffee. What impressed me was that we heard some many different Ianguages being spoken, German, Dutch, French, Spanish and English. I was feeling quite worldly! I was also feeling quite lousy even before we left the hotel-I was still sleep deprived, still had jetlag and bad, bad pain, but I managed to traipse along with BF. We saw a different part of London – the Bloomsbury district. We saw the Neurosurgery teaching hospital, other medical facilities and some lovely, quaint streets, however, I thought our area, South Kensington was more attractive.

Now, this British Museum is like nothing I ever saw before. It is enormous and free to the public just like the National Gallery. I was very impressed by that. The monarch and other benefactors keep it running, as do our donations. I was generous. Granted food and purchases are a little expensive, but it doesn’t bother you as much to pay for the goods and services. For the background on the British Museum go to http://www.british-museum.ac.uk/

Friday, February 3, 2006

Day dawned dreary and gray. Our three day stay in London had been dreary, gray and very, very cold.
I feel better physically and psychologically in warm weather. (What the hell was I thinking, Europe in winter?!) We took a cab (Mercedes) to Waterloo Station passing through Victoria, a lovely neighborhood. I will check it out more on my return trip. I grew quite fond of London just in my short time there. I will plan on spending more time in England and bring my partner along this time (maybe, she doesn’t like to travel.)

Waterloo Station was all hustle and bustle. It is amazing how many people travel by train in Europe. People with two and three kids, strollers, everything you can imagine. It isn’t cheap, our ticket was $150 each but it appears to be the travel of choice. My only thought is that petrol is so expensive here that it isn’t worth the aggravation to drive. The government puts a high priority on their rail system. Well, we had to share our area with two British women who were on their way to Paris. We sat facing them, and one was so obnoxious. She didn’t shut up the entire three-hour trip. She must own some clothing shops in Paris, and while I applaud strong, assertive women there was an air about her that just was irksome. I think the new spring line was being shown in Paris. I really didn’t care about Langenfeld or anyone else for that matter, the fact that it was a little cramped and I was feeling soooo awful helped to fuel my discontent.

We landed at Gare du Nord in Paris @ 1 pm. We waited in line for a taxi. The poor taxi driver. He grabbed one of BF’s suitcases and couldn’t get it into the trunk it was so heavy. Sacre Bleur!, he cried, and I knew that meant something like “holy….” in English.

He took us to 54 Rue de Picpus. We meet with the owner of the apartment who was quite scattered and was pretending to clean up the place. The apt. was not very clean, she kept saying that some German students had been staying here and they weren’t very clean, however, you get a cleaning person to make it suitable for the next renter. Frankly, she should have been extremely embarrassed – the bathroom smelled like urine, the stove and kitchen was greasy, I really don’t think the place had been cleaned in a year.
She left and BF and I went out to get a bite to eat at Au Metro, near the Nation Metro stop. I had my first meal in Paris – jamon and fromage omelet, BF had a Nicoise salad. We both had tea as it was freezing – a biting wind and cold. We stopped at the butcher and bought sausage, goat fromage, and oeufs (eggs.) We then stopped at the local SuperMarche and bought a few other things.
That night I took a pill and slept soundly, however, there are no drapes on the windows so the street light shined right in, and we’re off the street so there is always something going on. I had a lot of trouble this day with homesickness. I couldn’t believe I’d be staying in this apartment for six weeks. I missed my partner, the pups and the comfort of home. I called home and we were both crying on the phone. After I got a good night’s sleep I felt better.
CRUCIAL: The first thing you do when you arrive in Paris is purchase Paris Pratique, a small pocket-sized book of all the streets listed alphabetically. It tells you which arrondissement the street is located, and offers a map. Invaluable.

Saturday, February 4, 2006
We woke around 9am. I had a different perspective today. After some breakfast, we went to get cleaning supplies. We then took the Metro to the Hotel De Ville stop to the BHV, or Bazaar De Hotel De Ville, sort of like a Sears and Home Depot all rolled into one, to see if we could get some shirts. Now don't confuse BHV with the Hotel de Ville in Paris which houses the City of Paris' administration. The Hotel is also where the Nazi's made their headquarters during the Occupation. Now, back to shopping! There was nothing for us; however, we found a great pedestrian walkway with little shops. It was right near the Pompideu Center. There were lovely card shops and the best patisserie! The apple tart just melted in my mouth (and onto the hips), however, we are walking so much that it will all balance out.

We got home around 3 pm and started cleaning. Had the place all spifted up by five. I know what gives me comfort – cooking. I made Pot Au Feu, only with chicken. Pot Au Feu is usually made with beef, however, you can improvise. It calls for thyme, bay leaf, leeks, turnip and carrot cooked with chicken. It is packaged with all the things you need at the market. The broth is drunk separately; then the chicken and vegetables are eaten. I learned that it is a very popular Sunday dish on French families tables. I talked to JY again and was much better though she was crying when we said so long. I slept lousy.

Sunday, February 5, 2006
We woke around 9 am. Again, it was overcast. We hadn’t seen the sun since we arrived in London. We didn’t get out of the house until noon. We decided to do a trial run to BF’s school which is not far from here. We took the Metro to Glaciere, and we meet those who were running the Study Abroad Program. We had a late lunch of salad, pizza, and 1/2 carafe of the house rouge. There are few, if any Supermarche’s open on Sunday. It is clear that Sunday is for sleeping late, spending time in the cafes, eating out with family, going to the cinema, however, it is not a time for work.
The workweek here averages 35 hours, and frankly, I don’t see much work going on, i.e. people are always in the cafes and patisseries taking un café with a sweet (preferably pain du chocolat, croissant). In the afternoon it is usually un café with an apertif. I have not yet been down to the financial center of the city where the work ethic might be different.

THROUGH MY EYES…Supermarche observation: there are different levels of supermarkets. First is the “franprix” which is relatively small, then comes the Supermarche which has more goods and a better selection, third is the “GranMarche” which is like a big Safeway in the U.S., then comes the Casino Royale Marche, which although I never went into can be compared to a Costco (perhaps). I saw the Casino Royale from the Metro and thought it was a gambling joint!!
So,back to the Supermarche. You can’t find a mop anywhere in a Supermarche, that you get at the department store. The checkers sit down, you unload the baskets; you pack your own bag. There are no brown shopping bags. You either pack it in your own carry bag, they give you a plastic bag and they’re stingy with them, or you bring your own shopping cart which has a vinyl protection over it. You pull it around the store, throw your stuff in it, get to the checkout, take your things out, and then quickly put you stuff back in the bag. Bottom line is the checkers do very little. I haven’t had too much trouble shopping here. I can tell from the pictures what the product is, but one word can have many different meanings. I’ll talk about this later.
Sunday night we spent finishing up our wash, getting ourselves ready for school (me) and orientation (BF).
Auvoir.

Monday, February 6, 2006
I finally have a purpose here and a regime to go by. I have noticed that unless I have a purpose I tend to feel quite anxious. Today, I begin my French lessons. I was up early; didn’t want to be late and get on the wrong metro. We had done a dry run on Saturday when we went down to the Hotel de Ville area which is where my school is located. There are many language schools in Paris. Lutece Language fit my needs. All I wanted was one week of beginning French so I could figure out how to pronounce words and understand some very basic words on how to get around town. I have found that not that many Frenchmen speak English, or if they do, they have a narrow command of it. The younger ones are more likely to speak English.
I left the apt. around 7:45 for a 9 am class. It took me about 20 minutes on the Metro so I stopped at the local Starbuck’s. They spoke English in there so I ordered a cup of tea. I do try to use my greetings and a few words of French that I know, but it was nice to hear English. This was the ONLY Starbuck’s I saw in Paris.

The language school is on Blvd de Sebastopol, a major street that encompasses one border of the Marais arrondissement. The building is very old and I thought that if an American building inspector came by the place would be closed down! The elevator is 2 ft x 6 ft. – felt like a coffin. The stairs are a little rickety, and the door handles are something else...I’d have to draw them. They’re in the middle of the door and are round. So, here I am with Pi-Ying, Tatiana, Scarlett, Amy, and our teacher, Collette. The others have had some French already; I have not. My accent is awful, in fact I never sounded so tongue-tied in all my life.

After class I took a walk around the Marais district to blow off some steam. I’m disappointed in myself that French is proving to such a challenge. I realize that French is quite a difficult language to learn. All my classmates have said how frustrated they are; they give me hope. The Marais is probably one of my favorite districts-quaint, happily gay, and filled with hustle and bustle. There is a chocolate shop that has these wonderfully shaped hearts and figures for Valentine’s day which is next week. I took the Metro to Robespierre, a stop in the eastern most section of Paris, where I got off to look for a health food store. I knew right away that the neighborhood was not the best, this was mostly an immigrant community and while no one said anything to me, I did not feel at ease. I was one of the few white people around, the buildings were rundown and the streets were not very clean. This certainly was not a tourist destination. I had the same feeling visiting certain neighborhoods in New York and San Francisco. I turned around, got back on the Metro and go home around 2:30. Had the apartment to myself which I enjoyed. I did my homework.

Tuesday, February 7th
I must do better at writing everyday else I forget. Tuesday AM was class, again, I was struggling with the pronunciation of words. “duh” which can mean two or “of” is pronounced DUH, heavy accent on the UH, just like people in NY talk. Turned me off right away. Saint Paul sounds like Sanpo, so why don’t they just spell it that way? The H as in Hotel de Ville is silent, why have it there? Three is the best – tres, pronounced “twat” which well…means something different in English. I believe French is a derivative from an Indo-European language that certainly has Latin roots. I will have to check this out.

After class I went to La Galleria which is up near the Opera house. What a fabulous store. They have a stupendous food court; if you can’t find it there it doesn’t exist. I had a sandwich of olive bread, tuna, oil, and anchovy spread that was delicious. You can walk around eating a sandwich or sweet, but I rarely see people drinking water or anything else in the street. I went back to BHV, to look for a shirt, bought one that I liked that was an XXL-p.s. it didn’t fit and BF bought it from me. An XXL here would barely fit a size large. I have come to the conclusion that I will not be buying many clothes in Paris. I also went to the Gare de Nord about my trip to Munich. I got my ticket and learned that I leave from the Gare d I’st station. On February 13th, I have a 10 am train out and will arrive in Munich around 7 pm.

THROUGH MY EYES… Parisians are not very large. I rarely see overweight people. I can’t figure out how this could be because I see women munching on baguettes, pastries and they’re as thin as rails. My conclusion is that all of the walking that people do keeps them in shape, and a large number of French women smoke which I believe keeps your weight down.

Wednesday, February 8th
The sun finally came out today after an early morning rain. I am getting the hang of the Metro, in fact, I’m downright good at figuring out where to go. I had class again the morning and decided to take it easy so I just strolled around the Marais. I saw the Palace of the Vosges, did the walking tour winding up near Saint Paul. This area is so lively, with small cafes and luring patissieries. I took the Metro home and took a nap as I was meeting BF and the group for an evening boat ride on the Seine.

We meet at FIAP at 6 pm. Have I told you how $%#& cold it is!! I meet DV who is teaching literature and critical thinking. He is a lovely, down to earth fellow who teaches at DVC. We took the Metro to the Pont Neuf, which is the oldest bridge in Paris. About 30 students went along with Thomas and Norma who are the coordinators of the FIAP group along with Kirsty.
It was freezing! I don’t mean cold, I mean frigid. We tried to stay on the top deck of the boat as long as we could, but finally it was too much-we saw much of Paris from inside the boat. Paris at night is like nothing you have ever seen. I can’t think of anything that comes close – even the New York skyline which I adore can’t hold a candle to it. First, the buildings are so majestic with centuries of history – throw some lighting on them and I’m hooked. Oh, and the Eiffel Tower-what intricate lace work, again, just like when I saw Big Ben I got misty-eyed. The tour lasted an hour and we fell into bed around 10:30 and slept very well.

THROUGH MY EYES...Now, we could learn a thing or two about mass transit from the French. I grew up in New York and the subway system there, well I'd give it a B+. I've rode the Boston MTA, the San Francisco Muni, and the London Tubes and nothing in my opinion compares to the Paris Metro. It is color-coded (so is London). It is immaculate, both the cars and the stations which have little, if any graffiti. Either they clean it off every night or people do not deface and write all kinds of nonsense on it. I think it is the latter. There seems to be an inate pride in the Parisians about the cleanliness of their beloved city. The stations are very entertaining. At the Louvre stop, you will find replications of some of the most beautiful pieces in the Louvre. The musical history of Paris is told at the Tuilieries stop. The Bastille stop has a colorful mural of the storming of the Bastille and the peasant uprisings. The trains are on time, you're told when the next train is coming, and not once did I feel afraid even late in the evening. If I lived in Paris I would not need an automobile.

Thursday, February 9th.
Still struggling with my French lessons. I think I could do fine if I put my mind to it. Today I was really ambitious and felt not too bad, and I walked about three miles, up the Rue de Riivoli, past the Louvre, all the way up to the Concorde. I went into WH Smith, which is an English language bookstore based in London. I bought a Newsweek magazine and a book on Paris. I felt pretty good and finally thought that my thigh muscles were working themselves out. My feet were hurting a lot, and I needed to pick up some moleskin which they do not have there. Later I will find out they do have it, however, it is much different than in the states. I made an appt. to the see the chiropractor that is two blocks from the apt. I will see him on Friday at noon.

Thursday night I took the Metro to the FIAP. The police were out in force. I was unsure why but I felt protected. The other faculty members and the FIAP staff were going out to dinner and I was invited. I am so happy to be included with this group. I feel like I have a family here.
There was Scotty and Kathleen who are from Santa Rose JC. Scott teaches psychology and sociology and Kathleen teaches special education. She is on sabbatical and going to spend six weeks volunteering in Kenya. She is going to help organize women set up business enterprises.
Then there is DV as mentioned before, and Ed who is teaching history. BF rounds out the faculty. We had aperitifs at the FIAP, which is an amazing place. You can get anything you want there, i.e. wine, beer and BF said they have a delicious food court for everyone. One day she had rabbit (lapin) for lunch. Can’t get that at a Skyline College cafeteria! Of course this brought up the question about having alcohol available for those students under the drinking age of 21. Well, there is an unofficial drinking age of 16 in France, unofficial because it appears no one really thinks about it. I also never saw any Frenchman drunk or out of order.

We all had aperitifs and then walked uphill for 15 minutes to a delightful area (it was dark and I couldn’t see too much but I will do the walk again). We went to this restaurant that the FIAP people know called Le Temps Des Cerises (Cherry Blossom Time). I think it is a socialist cooperative enterprise. What a wonderful place! Again, another heart rendering experience – we sat at a long table and were the first ones in the place. By the time 9 pm rolled around every table was taken. We began with a rillarde of canard which Kathleen ordered-a duck pate which was scrumptious, not too ducky! Then a few of us had filet of beouf with fois gras sauce. The potatoes even came with the sauce mixed in, it was a little over the top for me, but delicious. The sauce was like velvet. Bridget had a cassoulet of grouse, canard, fois gras, beans, veggies and potatoes. That was delicious, next time I’m going to have that. Thomas had veal head. There was also beef and pig cheeks on the menu. Some of the things I just couldn’t get myself to try. We had four bottles of wine and some folks had dessert. David and Kirsty had cheese and muscadet, Bridget had chantilly of chocolat cake.

THROUGH MY EYES… What I mean by a heart rendering experience – This is a small, local restaurant in a small community in Paris, which few people probably go to except the locals. The waiters do not speak English; the regulars don’t speak English either. The food was delicious but very different than anything I’d ever had before. The camaraderie was wonderful as we all got along and tried each other’s food. I thought this is what living as a Parisian is like. They don’t come for dinner until about 8 or 9 pm. Then it is a leisurely dinner with delicious food and wine. The only drawback is the smoking, even the waiter’s smoke as they bring your food.
NOTE: The bathroom was something else. I’ll have to draw it – a square in the floor with a hole in the middle, two foot rests, and a handle on the wall so if you aren’t a good squatter, or if you are a woman, you will not fall in! I thought I was in the men’s room, but I was wrong. Took the Metro and returned home around 11.
One more day of French class. :->

Friday, February 10th
This was my last day of class. I was a little sad and the teacher and Pei Ying tried to talk me into taking more classes.
I had my chiropractor’s appt. at noon. It went well considering that he didn’t talk much which was fine with me. I could get from the gist of his hand signals what I needed to do. I felt a little better afterwards but had little energy. I push myself. More on this experience later. I went to the Place d’Italie which is in the neighborhood where the Le Temps Des Cerises is located and walked around at the Center Commercial. I did a little shopping and then came home. I made lamb stew for dinner and we had a bottle of wine. There was a crisis at home. One of the hardest things about being so far away is being away!

Saturday, February 11th
This morning dawned sunny. I was struggling with what was going on 8,000 miles away or what I wanted to do on the first sunny day in Paris. I came to the conclusion that there was nothing I could about what was happening at home, yes I could say prayers and keep good thoughts, but that was all. I had to rely on our circle of friends. It was about 40 degrees when we left for Notre Dame via Sully Morland metro stop. Notre Dame is on the I’L de Cite, which is one of the small islands in the middle of the Seine. What an experience! I had always dreamed of walking down the steps to the Seine and although I didn’t get to do that this trip, I will before I leave Paris. It was cold and the wind picked up. We went to Notre Dame, which was just as stunning today as it was 35 years ago. I understood a little more this time around and did appreciate the work and message that went into this 12th century masterpiece. We spent about 40 minutes inside and I lit a candle for a dear friend who was having her surgery Monday.

Religious relics do not do much for me; however, I looked at it in the context of the historical significance that Catholicism had/has in France. After that we had a little lunch at a local café. BF had pomme frites and sausage which turned out to be a beef hotdog. I had pomme frites and a jamon and fromage sandwich that is akin to a grilled cheese sandwich at home. After that we went to the Museum of Deportation which is a memorial to those French Jews who were deported during WWII. It is a very stark memorial, narrow stairs and corridors with writings carved into the walls. The highlight was the long walls that had one small white stone for every Jew that was deported. There were about 160-200,000 stones. You did feel like you were in a cell and there wasn’t anyway out. It was getting cold so we headed home, did some shopping and I went to Nicholas to buy a delicious bottle of Medoc. I will be back there soon! BF and I had a light dinner and went to bed rather early.

Sunday, February 12th
A phone call from "across the pond" woke us at 7:30 which was fine as we wanted to get an early start. We took the Metro to the Concorde station as BF wanted to go to the WH Smith bookstore. They didn’t open until 1 pm so we walked to the Louvre. What an experience! I teased BF for being so emotional this time. I said it was “so Walmart” as it is so huge. Took some pics outside. BF and I separated and I went to the French sculpture room. The highlight for me, which made me again misty-eyed was seeing Hammurabi’s Code, the Winged lions from Sargon II kingdom, and Venus de Milo. To think that I have taught about Hammurabi, showed the image off of google, but now saw it in person. You can only do so much of the Louvre at one time. I think I will have to go back at least 3x more in order to see what I want to see and that isn’t even all the exhibits-ahhhhh.
Had a delicious midi at Medova Café. A “midi” is mid-afternoon lunch. For 13 euros we had an entrée, plate, and dessert. I had pate, poulet with pomme frites and flan for dessert. I have got to watch those pomme frites; they can be addictive.

We went to WH Smith and got home about 3 pm. I am getting ready for my trip to Munich tomorrow which fills me with a feeling of adventure, as well as a little apprehension because I’m doing this trip solo.
Auvoir until tomorrow,

February 13th
Surprise! The day dawned dreary and rainy. I spoke with JY then headed to I’l de Est for the train to Munich. I was there way to early, however, I always would rather be early than running down the platform. First class accommodations are quite comfortable. I have a window seat in first class. About 1 hr. out of Paris and there is a considerable amount of snow on the ground. When we first left Paris it was grey and misty, then the fog settled in, and now snow although it is not snowing.

Never did I think I’d be riding the train to Munich, typing my thoughts, and listening to German music on my ipod. Dreams are made of this!
The landscape is depressing, yet alluring at the same time. Alluring in that you have the brown branches straining against a white/grey backdrop. There are little towns with brick houses and a church spire in the background. An attractive woman walked by. Boy, she smelled good!! More on this later!
This is farm country. Our first stop is Nancy; then Strasbourg, and finally Munich. You sit according to your destination. I am in the last car.
So, there are two things running through my mind as I look out the window – trudging through this terrain in the dead of winter, being bone cold and knowing that there seemed to be no end in sight to a war (WWI in particular) that you have been called upon to fight whether you like it or not. The second, is how it must have felt being transported to the camps, although I can see out of the window. In the transports, you could possibly only see through small peep holes.

I have to check and see what crops grow in this part of France, I don’t have a map , but I think we’re traveling through the southeastern (not too far south) part of the country. It is very flat. We are possibly traveling through Alsace-Lorraine before we get to Strasbourg. I have some appropriate music on here, Dave Koz and lullaby for a rainy evening. How could a historian not bring a map?!

The sun began to shine in Strasbourg. Within a few minutes we crossed the Rhine and we are now in Germany. The mountains are off to the left of us, I’m wondering if they are the Harz mts, but we will be traveling through the Black Forest. There is snow on the mountains. I was waiting for this big announcement about the crossing the Rhine, but the woman who sits in the back of me told me we just crossed. She speaks english well and spent six weeks in Palo Alto! It was very snowy once we passed Stuttgart. I saw dogs running in the snow and people cross-country skiing. Reminded me of Tahoe. The train got into Munich station around 7:15 pm. I do not like arriving at a new destination in the evening. I feel too vulnerable. I did get a very nice taxi driver who knew where to go and didn’t take advantage of a stranger in town. My hotel, Pension Hotel Am Markt is lovely, albeit very small. The rooms are small that is, my room is about 12x12 with a walk in shower. Other rooms have the WC down the hall and you have to share. I am glad I spent the extra few dollars for a WC in room. The older gentleman at the desk is very pleasant and very German. He spoke English. I had a difficult time connecting to JY and that began to make me frantic. I realize that I do better if I have a telephone that I can make long distance calls on, and or, internet access so I can email. I just can’t seem to get this phone to connect to SF and I don’t feel comfortable in this kind of situation. I did manage to call her collect and she was going to call me back at 9:30, but Munich has a city code and I didn’t know that until just now. I don’t think JY knows that. She is probably frantically trying to call me now.

It is very cold here and icy. It is hard to walk on the streets as they are very slippery. I do hope I can make it to Dachau tomorrow. If I can’t and still feel cut off I’ll head home on Wednesday. I am tired and want to take my shower but JY may call. I had dinner at the Bratwursthause that is right around the corner. They have these long tables and I was told to sit anywhere so I sat down at one of these tables and the two people there looked at me like I was from outer space. I felt very uncomfortable and moved. The wait staff were very friendly and the majority of them were gay. More on this later. I had a glass of wine “trocken” which I know means dry, but it was white wine and I’m not fond of white. I also had salad and turkey schnitzel which was delicious. There are many places to eat just around the platz where the hotel is located. (Heileigiststrasse).
I am going to try JY one more time and then take a shower. I did manage to speak to JY. Felt much more settled and fell fast asleep.

THROUGH MY EYES...The I'l de Est station was noisy, cold, and in some areas seedy. It is not in the best area of Paris, guess no train stations are. It was patrolled by French policemen and security men with machine guns. The luggage isn't screened, nor do you have to walk through metal detectors. I thought it rather blase, however, the French do take terrorism and the threat of terrorist strikes seriously. You can read about it in the newspapers and on the English TV stations. Maybe I'm in la-la land, but I didn't feel threatened at all. I wanted to take a photo inside of the station and I did ask the officer if I could before I started shooting. He just nodded. On the other hand, the Munich Hauptbahnhof station was luxurious, gleaming stainless steel, and the best were the bathrooms and shower rooms. You pay according to what you want, they have soap and towels for a shower, a changing room, and rather luxurious bathrooms. I wanted to take a photo but the women on duty nixed the idea. For about $1.25 you have a place all to yourself. Naturally, you could eat off the floors they were so clean.

Tuesday, February 14th,
Valentines Day. Today dawned rather overcast, but at least it wasn’t snowing or raining. It was cold, around 29 degrees but it did heat up to about 40 later in the afternoon. I went to Euraide and got my return ticket and also a train ticket to London for the 17th of March. Got that one for half price which is a good deal-$75. I then went to the Times Square café to send some emails. The Dachau tour didn’t go, so I went myself. I got an S ticket to take the Bahn. You are supposed to punch your ticket; if you don’t and you’re caught it is a 40E fine. This very nice woman helped me out in her limited English. She even ran up the stairs to punch my ticket and got me on the right train. Many people speak some English here. I understand a second language is mandatory and most Germans chose English. Perhaps this is something the American school system should consider.

The S-bahn is so clean and efficient. Again, I got to thinking about how we travel at home. The expectation is that oil will always be there for us, so we’ll jump in our cars. We not only need to change over to more mass transit, but we also need to change our mindset. I’m very skeptical about that, but I think the French and Germans have it all over the US when it comes to fuel efficiency and oil dependency. People bring everything on the trains; dogs, sleds, skis, you name it.

Germany is so clean, the people don’t litter, there is some grafitti on the buildings outside the city, but overall, the Munchens take great pride in their city. There are lions all over the city as it is the symbol of Munich; I didn’t see one that had grafitti on it. Maybe they just clean it off as fast as someone puts it on, or maybe people just respect public property.

My trip to Dachau
One of the reasons for this trip to Munich was to visit the concentration camp Dachau. Dachau was the first camp opened April, 1933 about two months after Hitler and the Nazi’s took power. It was a model camp; what went on at Dachau was a template for the other camps that were opened. The little town of Dachau itself seemed benign enough with small houses and very neatly kept streets. I’m sure the bus driver is tired of saying “ja” when asked if this is the bus to the memorial. It was good to go in the winter as I think that anyplace can look better in the sunshine and leaves on the trees. I could get a feel for how desolate, cold and dreary it must have been for those incarcerated there.
It is an expansive place. The saying “arbeit mach frei” at the entrance is startling as I’ve seen that saying in so many videos I have seen. The museum which is housed in the old administration building is the best I have ever seen. It is better than the MOT, or the Japanese American Museum in LA. I have yet to visit the Holocaust museum in DC. It is interactive as you can listen to the testaments of some of the survivors, unfortunately, I couldn’t find anything in English. There is a need for more English translations in the audio part of the museum. The presentation traces Germany from the 1st WW, the treaty of Versailles, Germany in the 20s, the rise of National Socialism and the opening of the camp in April,1933 to house primarily political opponents of Hitler.
The most haunting for me was the part on how the prisoners coped. Using music and writing they attempted to keep their humanity. I think it made an impression on me because it was men writing these poems which is very uncommon. We always hear about women and how their coping skills are superior to men in these kind of situations, but to read some of the letters, poetry that they even wrote to each other was heartwrenching. These were intimate thoughts, not sexual intimate thoughts, written down at a time when being caught writing anything could mean punishment or death.

I returned to Munich to relax and have a glass of wine for VD day. Whether it was being alone, the visit to Dachau, missing JY or how much I was thinking of my mother all culminated in me getting soused ( a good German word).
I went to the Wein bar near the hotel; the bartender was very sweet. He couldn’t understand English very well, however, he knew I was American so he put on American music for me. Some of the songs were by Bruce Springsteen, Journey (frankly, I didn't have the heart to tell him I preferred German music) and then “seasons in the sun” and (I can’t remember the other two songs which made me misty-eyed) came on. I haven’t heard these songs in years, in fact, I wondered where he got them. At one time he ran across the street to the Hofbrau with an empty beer glass, within a few minutes the waiter came running across the mall with an ice cold beer. I had more wine than I should have and then walked across the street to the Hofbrau and had sauerbraten and potato balls. Needless to say, I managed to get back to the hotel and I didn’t feel well AT ALL. German wine is much sweeter and I think that, plus my vulnerable emotional state, and the heavy meal did me in. Surprisingly, I didn’t have a headache the next morning but I only got up at 10 am.

THOROUGH MY EYES…
German’s, at least the Munchens love to eat. Love is an understatement. They start off the day with a sweet, a donut filled with crème, or even a bratwurst on roll. Then from 10-11am is “imbiss time” which means a coffee and sweet, or a walk-away lebenkase sandwich. Around 1 pm it is time for lunch. That could be anything from herring salad, whitefish salad, or a Kasser Ripshon which is smoked pork on roll. At around 4 pm, it is time for a beer and something else to nosh on. Dinner begins around 7 pm.
The munchens are also extremely proud of their city and their heritage. I got the feeling they LOVED being german, even with all the negativity that might entail. They are extremely polite people, and dress with style and refinement. In the department store Galleria Kaufhof, everything is orderly, in straight piles according to size and plenty of help. In fact, they prefer that you ask for help rather than ransacking the piles and messing things up. I did like the fact that the sizes went up to 56, where in Paris all I can get is up to 48.
Both men and women love their beer. People are drinking beer at 10 am along with their lebenkase sandwiches!
They greet each other with “guss gut” –God is Good, rather than the usual gutentag.
The Marienplatz is the major shopping area in the city. It is located in the “old town” section and is a pedestrian mall so you don’t have to worry about cars. The only traffic allowed is a taxi or a delivery truck. They have everything you need in one store like the galleria. It was rather upscale but still reasonable. I bought a pair of Josef Seibel shoes for 45 euros which is about $60. They would have cost me over $100 at home if I could get the style.

Wednesday, February 15th,
After rolling out of bed at 10 am, I had a sweet and a tea around 11am. Today was shopping day and I had a marvelous time.
Shoes and a shirt for JY at the galleria, some hand-made wooden toys made in the “old East Germany” for Alana and one for me. I bought a porcelain cat which has been had painted by a German craftswoman. I also bought JY a Tissot watch for her 50th birthday and a shirt for me. I bought some cheese and smoked ham to bring back to Paris.
I restrained myself from a lebenkase sandwich. I love it, but it is very rich and if not eaten warm doesn’t taste very good.
F or dinner I went to a Japanese dinner and had rice noodles and shrimp with hot chili sauce. It was very good and a nice change from all the meat.

My mother
I felt so connected to my heritage and my mother while I was in the “Fatherland”. We were here 35 years ago, however, we didn’t go to Munich. I felt her energy all around me. I saw her face in the women on the street, I heard her telling me to eat this or that; she was constantly looking over my shoulder and I felt her watching over me. I know she was very pleased that I had returned even if it took me so long to do so. Some of the phrases she used to say came back to me. I did realize that my grandparents were from the northern part of Germany where they spoke Plattedeutsch which is a lower form of German. I think the people in the south speak with a different dialect and is what we could consider high German.
There were the bells from St.Peters, that also helped me feel connected. In Ridgewood where I grew up, St. Matthias chimed on the hour, 1/2 and 1/4 hr. The bells from St. Peters chimed right on schedule. They sounded like they were in the hotel they were so loud.

Final note: I must have the discipline of a saint; I left Munich without having a beer! I love beer, however, beer does not like me. It was a constant struggle to think I was in the beer capital of the world and, alas, I didn’t have a sip. Hooray for me.

Thursday, February 16th
Caught an 8:40 train to Paris. We just pulled into Nancy. It is still overcast, but the blue sky peeks through occasionally. It was pouring this morning when I left Munich. I hope to return someday soon as there are a number of things I’d still like to see. I would also like to bring JY back to see the pastries and sample the food (maybe the castles).
I arrived at Gare de I’est around 5:40 pm. I decided to take the Metro home. BF was home and we had some dinner. I was pretty pooped and could feel myself coming down with the sniffles. I called JY to let her know I was home then went to bed. “Home” seems strange, but the minute I got into Paris I felt safe, not that I didn’t feel safe in Germany, it just was that I felt more at “home” in Paris.

Friday, February 17th
I woke up with a cold. I also realized I had one more month in Paris and I decided that I didn’t want to go home. Just didn’t want to be back in the U.S., not now with what is happening there. Europe seems much more refined and civilzed, however, there is still the same old bullshit with the EU and the rivalries between countries. Although it isn’t spoken outright, the scars from the past century are still very present and there is a sensitivity about it. I became quite fascinated about the occupation of France by the Germans so I picked up a book on this time period.

I went to the Kinesiologie office to make a massage appt. I also took the Metro to Le Marais, only to wind up on the border between arrondissement #3 and arrondissement #11, along Bd. Des Filles de Calvaire, which is called the Republique district. I was heading north to Place de La Republique when I realized I was getting lost and was tired. I asked a postal worker, a black woman who walked me one block to set me back on my course. While we couldn’t speak to each other, my “rue de rivoli and “hotel de ville” got me where I needed to go.
I made an appt. for a haircut at a gay salon. I then came home, went to the Boucherie and to the Supermarche. I bought some boeuf for bourguignon and sausage.

BF and I went to the Irish Corner for dinner. BF had a lamb tangine; I had salmon. We shared a carafe of wine. BF had Kir appertif, consisting of crème de cassis and either champagne or sauturne. It is quite sweet and you can drink them like strawberry soda. They do sneak up on you! I tried Pastis that tastes like anise. I liked it. We rolled home and into bed.

Saturday, February 19th
Saturday dawned grey and rainy. I seem to begin each day with, a weather report which always seems gloomy. Even with gloomy weather, Paris is just lovely. I can visualize how Paris is in the spring and summer. The Tuilerie gardens must be stunning as well as the trees along the Seine. I don’t think I will get to see them. Guess I’ll have to come back next year in the late spring.

I have a full blown cold. BF and I took the metro to Bd. de Sebastopol to go to Office Depot. We also looked around the neighborhood and found a few Japanois restaurants which we’d like to try. BF went home to do school work and I took the Metro to the Champ Elysses. By the time I got out of the Metro it was raining harder and I walked to the Concorde to go to WH Smith. I didn’t get to see much of the Champ Elysses because I don’t think I was in the area that everyone talks about. I got home around 3 pm and made my beef bourguignon which was delicious. We had dinner, wine and went to bed around 9 pm as we had a big day on Sunday planned. Amazing how I can continue to chug along like the energizer bunny even with a bad cold.

Sunday, February 20th
The day dawned rainy. Today we were going to see Ed’s apartment in the 3rd arrondissement, go the flea market and then have lunch. David, Scott, Ed, BF and I walked down the Metro station along Rue Etienne which had a farmer’s market. I took some pictures which doesn’t do the amount of food stuff they had justice. Oysters, mussels, sand crabs, all kinds of fish (must have come from the Mediterranean), meats of all kinds, vegetables, fromage. You name it they had it. I will go back on Wednesday to check it out further. Perhaps I can buy a few things for our party Saturday night.
We took the Metro #4 to Porte de Clignancourt which is in the northern #18 arrondissement. The neighborhood is rather run down, lower working class, one got the impression that much hustling went on. The neighborhood was primarily immigrant, black, Arab and other foreigners. Scott was taking us to the biggest flea market in the city, called Marche aux Puces de St.-Ouen. Supposedly, they have 2000 stalls with anything you can imagine. Frankly, much of the stuff looked like old junk to me, but I don’t know antiques. They did have some unique furniture.

The best part was our lunch at Chez Louisette. Scotty and Kathleen had found this place, it is off the beaten track, but within an hour of our arrival, it was packed to the rafters. Our waitress was quite nice and efficient. She took a picture of all of us and understood a little English. They have music, one man on the accordian, the other on a piano. A woman (chantruse), sang Edith Piaf songs and everyone in the place were swaying to the music. After her, a man took over and sang in Spanish and French. He even sung “my way” in French. What a moment! I know the words in English, however, it doesn’t matter…music is a universal language. The melody and the smiles on people’s faces told the story. Again, I have to pinch myself to remember where I am.

Here was our menu: DV and I shared Herring which was light and not fishy. The dressing was a very light vinaigrette. DV had lamb, Ed had Poulet, Scott had bouef with peppercorn sauce, BF had rabbit (lapin), and I had confit of canard. I told BF I hoped she wouldn’t be hopping around the apartment! Just can’t bring myself to eat rabbit. We had two bottles of wine. What a fabulous time, great food and great company. Our bill came to 132.50E.

Before our ride home I had to use the loo. Women had to pay .50E and I didn’t have any change, so I used the urinal which was a very difficult feat. Most businesses do not have toilettes, you either use a public toilette which aren’t very reliable, or you hold it. Yesterday, I used the public toilette near the Tuilerie gardens and they were very clean and well lit. it just depends on where you are. Walking back to the Metro was a little scary, so many people with different agendas. Much of the clothing in these stalls look just like the gangsta and rapper clothes they were in the states. Things are much cheaper at these stalls and you can bargain. We got home safe and I am happy to be in our apartment.
THROUGH MY EYES… DV mentioned that the Police are all in very good physical shape. He is right, no beer bellies here.

Monday, February 20th
Woke up to cold and rainy weather. I have a bad cold, guess I got it in Munich. I slept awful, only two hours last night. I went to the Gare du Nord to get my ticket for Lascaux and no one could figure out how to go, so I was disgusted and came back home. Before coming home I stopped at Les Halles to see if I could get a Edith Piaf tape. No luck. I stopped at the Supermarche, but didn’t have much energy to do much else. I also stopped at the pharmacie and picked up some Thera-flu. I wrote for two hours on my “novel”.

Tuesday, February 21st
Slept much better last night, it is the Theraflu. Made a decision not to go to Lascaux this Wednesday. I need better directions and the weather is so poor, I didn’t think I should be traipsing all over the countryside with a cold no less. I will be going on March 7th and I might drive. Oye.

First I went to get my haircut at Arc du Temple in Le Marais. Oliver went a little overboard. I look like a turnip head and will probably wear a hat for the next two weeks. I think this is the popular style amongst the gay community, very short on the sides and tufted on the top. My shape is not conducive to this type of hairstyle. Makes me look like the Michelin tire man!

I went to the Musee D'Orsay today. It is housed in an old train station built for the 1900 Exposition which helped usher in the Belle Epoche.
I had to wait at least 1/2 hr. in the rain. I was surprised at how crowded it was with school kids and tourists. Art is not something that gets me all titillated, however, to walk into a room and be slapped in the face with an original of Toulouse Lutrec’s Moulin Rouge is pretty remarkable. I love the impressionists, the texture and strokes and the colors are amazing. I saw the original of Van Gogh’s La Nuit etoilee, Arles, the portrait of himself, Renoir’s Bal du Moulin de la Galette, and I love Caillebotte, Toits sous la neige, 1888. Those are just some of the paintings that I remember.

After two hours, I went to the Boulangerie on the corner, I have got to get the name. I’ve never tasted bread so light and flavorable. I am a sucker for bread-of course, I am carbo intolerant! Attempted to go to the Rue de Madeline where all the fancy food shops are but the weather is just not conducive to being outslde, particularly with a cold. I didn’t even go to FIAP to hear the lecture on the History of Paris. I’ll write my own history!

THROUGH MY EYES…
French woman tickle my fancy. There is a certain air about them. What do I mean by “air?” Well, a panache, élan, a flair in how they carry themselves and how they dress. I’ve read and been told that the French take great pride in looking good and I would have to agree. I didn’t see many baggy pants, sneakers or baseball hats turned all different ways on the Metro. I certainly did not see sweat pants and shirts except if someone was exercising. What I did notice is that everyone, I mean just about everyone wears scarves. All colors, shapes, sizes and they wear them with, well with style.
So back to French women. One doesn’t have to be pretty to be attractive. A majority of the women are slender, not anorexic, but the right weight for their height. I have to admit that many of them smoke which is how they keep their weight down, but what about the one’s who don’t smoke? How do they keep trim and fit? Well, everyone in Paris walks on an average at least two miles per day. There are few escalators in the Metro stations, and many do not use them. People carry everything on the Metro, their shopping bags with food, TV sets purchased at BHV, new rugs slung over their shoulder (that was a woman!), babies, one hung on their back, one in hand and a shopping cart in the other. They drag them up the Metro stairs.
I’m losing my focus here…back to French women! There was a relatively attractive, sensual women, in her late 40s, dark hair which was pulled back in a clip waiting on line at the Musee D’Orsay that Tuesday. The man she was with was also quite handsome with graying hair. She wasn’t dressed elegantly, dark slacks, boots, coat (can’t remember the color), and of course, a scarf. She smelled terrific, however, I don’t know what perfume she had on. I stood admiring her. When we got inside we found ourselves in the toilette together. I shivered and said cold. She smiled, responded with qui, oh-la-la and I almost melted. What a smile, it just lit up her face. I wanted so much to tell her how attractive she was, but because of my language deficiency I decided to keep my thoughts to myself. There was nothing sexual about it; just telling someone they were attractive. Nothing more; nothing less.

Wednesday, February 22nd
Today dawned, well you know the rest. At least it wasn’t raining, but it was bone chilling.
I took the Metro to the La Defense thinking it was the Arche de Triomphe stop. When I got upstairs I was expecting to be hit in the face with the Arche, instead I saw concrete and steel. I was in a new part of Paris, I think it was the finance center. Got back on the Metro and got off at Charles DeGaulle, E’toile (the star) and there it was…as majestic as ever! I got choked up as usual. It is so imposing. It has been a symbol of France’s triumphs and tribulations. I went up to the top and took some panoramic shots of the 12 boulevards that radiate out from the arch. I can imagine what Paris must look like in the spring. I will try to make it a point to get back here in early June. I think I said that already!

I walked down the Champs-Elysses which is quite beautiful except for the Mcdonald’s (the only one I saw in Paris by the way), Gap and Virgin Megastore. The car dealerships don’t help much either. However, it is still imposing and reeks of money. I bought myself a swatch watch of Paris to round out my collection. Since clothes don’t fit me from here, I guess I’ll have to settle for a watch which is fine with me. I made a right down Rue Montaigne which was lovely and elegant. All of the major fashion designers have their shops here. The street reeks of $$. I wanted to see Pont l’Alma which was where Princess Di met her maker. There is a flame at the top of the underpass which is a liberty flame like that on the statue of liberty. People have used that as an informal memorial to her and the two others who died that night in August, 1997. it was rather an eerie feeling to be standing there. I turned around and there was the Eiffel Tower staring me in the face. Your circuits can get overloaded here.

I began writing down some of the things I learned so far from being on this trip.
1. I have a lot of stamina. Carrying two bags up train stairs in London was no small feat. I must have walked up at least 1000 train stairs since I have been here. That does not count the innumerable steps up and down museums and other places of interest. I should have tried to count them.
2. My calves and thighs are getting tighter.
3. One of my major core beliefs has been challenged and that is fear. I feel more confident and less afraid of being by myself. I have been going many places on my own including my big trip to Munich. I only got frightened once when I felt I couldn’t reach JY to let her know I was safe.
4. I am still judgmental.
5. I very much enjoy the art of writing.
6. The Germans and the French really do not like each other; they just tolerate each other.
7. I like classical music more than I thought I did.
8. I am learning how to not agonize over decisions. Case in point: I was supposed to see Lascaux today and tomorrow, however, I got a cold so decided to reschedule the trip. I didn’t agonize over the decision; I didn’t ask B for advice, and I didn’t call JY. I just made up my own mind.
9. being friendly and open is my natural state.

Thursday, February 23rd
Same weather-wise today but much colder. I wrote in the morning and went out about 11:45.
I took the Metro to Bastille, caught the #5 to Bobigny and then the #10 to Maubert. I wanted to go to the market. First, I walked down Lagrange and thought I had come upon a very beautiful church that looked just like Notre Dame. It was Notre Dame, I had just come in the back way. Duh! I found a vegetarian restaurant off a side street and had a little lunch of vegetable quiche and salad. It was pretty good.
I then walked around the Latin Quarter, it is very stimulating and crowded. The streets date back to Roman time but the cheap restaurants and souvenir shops take something away. I did see the Sorbonne although it wasn’t close up. I would have liked to have gone inside. I also missed the Musee of the Modern Age that has old Roman ruins. It was just too *%!# cold to do much of anything. The market was closing up by the time I came back around 2 pm so I went home. I think tonight we’re going to Le Marais for a drink and some sushi. Tomorrow to Versailles.

Friday, February 24th
Last evening we went to Le Marais for sushi. We took the Metro to Chatelet, walked to Etienne Marcel and ate at Ta Sushi. It was very cozy inside since it was freezing outside. We began with a martini rouge ®, Kir for BF. We ordered sushi and brochettes. They sure do take their time in restaurants. It took us over 1 1/2 hours to eat which is how the French do it. We eat; the French dine. I asked for the brochette before it was supposed to be served, the waitress looked at me and said (I think) in French, now you want it? I learned that each course is to be savored and eaten slowly. Cost 51.60 E. There were snow flurries when we got outside.

This morning was an early rise for Versailles. It was stunning, over the top. Sixteen hundred rooms for a hunting lodge, although the Paris court was moved there for about 100 years. We had Gerry give us a tour. She was very good and only touched the most important parts. There is so much opulence and splendor, no wonder the peasants rose up in revolt! It was hard to take any pictures inside because of the lighting, guess I’ll have to get a book if I want to do a presentation at Skyline.
Afterwards the usual suspects, Scotty, Ed, DV, BF and I went to Restaurant Lebanon, 11, rue de Satory, 78000, Versailles, near the Chateau. It was delicious and the family who owned it were very accomodating and friendly. We had Lebanese wine, with lamb, beef, chicken, hummus, and some sort of desert. The falafel which I usually do not like was the best I ever had. We had a leisurely lunch and headed back to Paris around 3:15.

Saturday, February 25th
Weather was overcast and nippy. The sun tried to come out for about one hour, but by 1 pm it tends to get colder and more windy. Got up relatively early and went to the Galleria for goodies for tonight’s soiree. I bought herring, cheeses, pates, and some sweets. The bill came to 88E. BF and I went to the Place d’Italie to get out a little. We had a delicious sandwich from Paul’s; then walked to the health food store Naturalia. We picked up a few things then took the Metro back home.

I cooked the rest of the day. The group began arriving around 7:15. Our little apartment looked and felt very cozy. We played Edith Piaf CD’s as well as my new found love, Andre Rieu. We had a wonderful time, eating and drinking and chatting until about 11pm. I cleaned up and went to bed around 1am. I will probably stay in today (Sunday, February 26th) as it is windy and nasty out.

THROUGH MY EYES… What have I learned? I have a knack for turning out delicious food in the confines of a small kitchen that is not well appointed. A pot and a fry pan, an oven which baffles me, a paring knife and voila! I am thankful for this gift. Sometimes I feel like my idol, Julia Child.

Sunday,February 26th
We stayed home today. Regrouping from the party and just a cold day. I spent most of the day writing. At first I felt bad that I didn’t get out and walk but it was just too ugly out there.

Monday, February 27th
I made up for my not walking yesterday. The day dawned sunny! We took pictures from the apt. less anyone not believe us.
I took the Metro to Bar Hakiem, to go to the Eiffel Tower. Again, come up out of the Metro station and I’m all misty as there is this magnficant structure that I’ve only seen in photos for the past 35 years. I walked a few blocks and got on line. I waited for about 30 minutes and it was pretty cold but the sun was still shining. Paid my 11E and took the lift to the 2nd level which was about 600 ft. It was very eerie at first, too much for me to look down but once you got acclimated it was fine. I had a ticket to the very top but it was so cold and I didn’t want to wait on line anymore. Took some lovely panoramic shots, but by noon the clouds were rolling in and it was really cold.
I can’t get over the technology used to build this thing. It was remarkable considering it was the latter 19th century. I meet all kinds of people in the queue: English, French, Spanish, Italian, but there were very few people of color. I don’t think they can take advantage of these attractions because it is expensive.
I then walked over to the Musee d’Homme, but everything seemed in French and I didn’t want to struggle with that. So, I walked through the Champs de Mars which is a big promenade leading out from the Tower. I was headed to the Hotel de Invalides that is now a major military museum.
I walked through a lovely area, very elegant buildings and quite expensive. I need to find out the name of the district. I walked about ten blocks and came to the Hotel de Invalides. What an ornate building. Boy, what a find. 7.5E to enter but worth the price.

THROUGH MY EYES…
First I went to the Order of the Liberation exhibit. They had hundreds of documents, photos, memorabilia of the Occupation of France during WWII. There were images of Charles De Gaulle everywhere. He is considered the father of French liberation. I’m not quite so sure. Many see him as an opportunist, that is he was all talk and no action; he let others do the dirty work then took the glory. While he is revered in France, the fact is that the French still have not come to grips with their role in WWII and the Occupation. I became very fascinated with the Occupation and bought a book. What I do know is that it is a very, very touchy subject with the French, particularly the Parisians. The debate seems to be: did the French put up enough resistance, or did they roll over and play dead? Naturally, they think they resisted as best they could under the circumstances; others are quite critical. I’ll have to do more research.

Then I went to the Deportation exhibit which was quite powerful. Over 170,000 French Jews were deported to Nazi camps during the war. This is another controversial topic that still hasn’t been settled and probably never will be. How much did the French resist in turning over the French Jews? Granted, there were heroes and heroines, but there were many who just didn’t care as anti-Semitism was, and in some respects, still rampant in France. Then I went to the WWII Exhibit which is the best I have ever seen. There were three floors. I didn’t even get to see the old weapons exhibit. I could easily go back again.
One of the best things was the medal ceremony on the Esplanade. Officers and soldiers were there and they had a band. I stayed for that awhile, but needed to get back to the chiropractor. I had a 5:30 appt. What a wonderful, enlightening and satisfying day.

Tuesday, February 28th
Dawned overcast and rainy although it showered all day it is now sunny with clouds looking like whip cream. (about 4 pm)
Went to the Gare du Nord today to inquire about tickets to Lascaux. It appears you just get on the train at Gare de Austerlitz so that is what I will do. I picked up tickets to Chartres on Friday for BF and DB who flies in tomorrow am.
Since it was raining I decided to go the Galleria to schnur around and pick up a few things. The Galleria Maison is stunning, I don’t remember seeing anything like this in SF, maybe not even in NY. The displays are fashionable and the colors are so vibrant. I wanted to buy everything! Went to FNAC for CD’s, that place is like a dungeon but they have everything electronic. It is an overwhelming store, but I got what I needed.
Decided to skip the cultural differences lecture and came home. I need to rest my feet and body as the next few days I’m going to be moving a lot with our dean coming to town.

Wednesday, March 1st
It snowed overnight. Not much but enough to stick on but trees and grass. It was very cold out today, I bet it was no more than 22 degrees, but the sun shone brightly most of the day. A good day for a walk.
I left the apt.about 10am, my plan was to get off at the Concorde and walk to DB’s hotel where I was going to meet her. Her plane was late leaving SF so all her connecting flights were going to be late.
Instead I got off at Tuilieres and walked up the Concorde going into the great bookstore G_______ where I bought a book on French culture.
I then walked up to the Place d’ Concorde and began walking up the Champs Elysses planning to cut over to DB’s hotel. This proved to be a very long walk. I walked past the president’s home, tres bien. I became fascinated with the Rooster at the top of the gated entrance. The Rooster is very important in French history. I need to find out why.
Then I walked up the Avenue until I hit Rue Montaigne crossed over George V, down the Rue Pierre the 1st of Serbie, then down Lubeck, a major school thoroughfare. Many of the kids already smoke at age 15.
I finally found Rue Hamelin. The Union Elyssian hotel where DB is staying was just lovely. She hadn’t arrived yet, it was 12:20, but I waited in the sitting room. I felt very elegant as I sat and read the International Herald Tribune.
The area is quite exclusive and full of women in furs and men all dapper and appointed in their suits and ties. I waited until 2 pm – still no DB, so I grabbed a baguette next door to her hotel (delicious-tuna and egg) and walked to Metro stop Bossiere. This is the #6 line which takes us all the way to Nation, my stop.
DB called around 7 pm; she arrived around 4. I took the Metro to meet her although I had already had dinner I didn’t want her to be alone on her first night in Paris. We ate around the corner from her hotel. Took a cab home-10:30pm

Thursday, March 2nd
Picked up DB at 9:45, took the metro down to the Hotel de Ville. We went to the Jewish Museum and spent about 1.5 hrs. There was an excellent exhibit of the Diaspora and the Dreyfuss affair, (J’Accuse). We then walked a little and wound up in a little café called the Jardin de The (tea). We had crème of celery soup, quiche and a salad. Delicious. They had a dumbwaiter so the food got cooked either up or downstairs.
We then went back to DB’s hotel as she luggage had arrived. Around 3:45 we headed over to the FIAP, heard Ed give his lecture on France and the Great War. DB got to meet the gang and then we went up to the lounge and had some drinks. First time I had Kir-white wine with crème de cassis. Delicious.
DB, BF and I took the Metro back to her hotel, found a restaurant, George V and had a late dinner. Late for me is 8:30. It was on the Champs de Elysses, and a little touristy, but the food was decent. DB had canard, BF had scallops, and I had steak and pomme frites. We got back to the apt. around 10:30, exhausted. We are to go to Chartres tomorrow.

Friday, March 3rd
Day dawned rainy and cold. No Chartres today. Instead we planned to meet DB at 10am at the Louvre. I gave her directions, PS we never hooked up. BF and I waited in the bitter rain and cold for 2 hrs., I went to her hotel and the staff said she had left before 11.
She called around 2pm to say she was safe and had gone to the Louvre, couldn’t find us and then went in without us. We have some down time as we will meet her at 6:30 for aperitifs and dinner.
We had a delicious dinner at Fatkr El Dine, a Lebanese restaurant in the 8th arrondissement. I found it on the internet. We had cold appetizers-Babganoush, spicy tomato puree, lentil puree with FF onion rings, hummus, falafel. The falafels here are delicious, I don’t think they know how to make them at home.
DB and I had mixed grill, chicken, lamb and ground meat. BF had fish. We had this crème cheese with rosewater (like a flan) with Pistashio nuts and baklava for dessert. A bottle of Cotes du Rhone finished off the meal. 120 Euros
Got home at 11:15pm.

Saturday, March 4th
No rain, but cold and overcast. We decided to go to Chartres anyway. Picked up DB at 10am, left for Chartres at 11:15, arrived about 12:20.
What a stunning cathedral. I had my mouth open most of the time…it is the fact that it is so old, 12th century and the colored windows are just gorgeous. Each one tells a story-it is very catholic, but if you get past that and look at it for the beauty you can manage it. Plus, to build something like this in the 12th century is beyond my imagination.
I love the chimeras, they are sometimes called gargoyles but gargoyles are like aqueducts, they bring water.
We had lunch at a little café called La Reine de Saba, 8 Cloitre Notre Dame, 28000 Chartres. It was a family run place. Fixed price menu included pate, salmon with leek/crème sauce and an apple tart for dessert. We had a bottle of wine. DB had quiche and onion soup. This bill was 53E and the price was right for me. I realized that I needed to start watching my money. We continued to walk around the grounds and had a good time in the gardens.
Boarded the train around 4:40 for our trip home. Got back to the apt. about 6:30, glad to be in for the night.
Tomorrow we’re off to Musee d’Orsay and Notre Dame and who knows where else! I still have to make a decision about Lascaux.

Sunday, March 5th
The weather seemed to be cooperating in the morning. It was cold but clear, however, that didn’t last too long. We were going to the Musee D’Orsay, but it was the first Sunday of the month and it was free. We got there at 11am and it was ridiculous so we decided to walk to Notre Dame. We walked along the Seine, I don’t know what the attraction is for me but I am just in love with that river. No river that I can think of except maybe the Rhine captures my imagination. I have yet to walk along the Thames. The Hudson certainly doesn’t do it for me.
We arrived on the island after about a 35 minute walk. We decided to go to Saint Chapelle which is my favorite so far, I think it is because it has some color to it and it is manageable. It is extremely old, 10th century and Louis IIX had it built to house the relics he would bring back from the 7th crusade(?). After that we went to Notre Dame and that is when it started to hail. I sat and waited for them. My feet and legs were killing me from walking on those stone floors. After that we went to the small restaurant BF and I went to near ND. We had soup, omelettes and pomme frites. It continued to rain and hail, then the sun came out.
DB suggested we try the Orsay, took the RER back to the museum but it was still very crowded around 4pm.
We then decided to go to the Asian museum. BF and DB were in their glory; I was museumed out. Thank goodness it closed at 6 pm. We went back to DB’s hotel and had drinks-scotch for DB and I (hadn’t had a scotch in 25 years), beer for BF. We got home around 8 pm. I collapsed, BF had to get ready for class the next day.

Monday, March 6th
I picked up DB. We talked about her Dad and how he had been stationed in France during WWII. He left letters and I told her I’d be pleased to help her edit and do some research into the places he was in Europe. We then decided to walk the Left Bank. Took the Metro to St.Germain de Pres where the oldest church in Paris is located. I was getting churched out but DB just adored it, so it was worth it.
We walked down Bd. St Germain and window-shopped. What a great street, rather wealthy but lot of restaurants, stores. We stopped in a baby store and BD picked up a few things for gifts. We then decided to go to the Paris, Museum of Middle Ages. My mouth was open most of the time...couldn't believe the tremendous collection of tapestries. The best was the Girl and the Unicorn. They also house the Roman bathes from the 2nd century AD. I was in my glory.

By 2 pm we were done and had a light lunch. We then hopped onto the metro to the Galleria as we were hosting the FIAP group. DB wanted to talk more about the Study Abroad Program. Hopefully, we may get the program at Skyline and I can have a hand in administrating it.
We bought some pates, cheeses, and vegetables. We then hopped back on the Metro home where we picked up some bread and desserts at the local patissiere. I also picked up some wine. We all had a wonderful time; except that we missed Scott and Tom. They were both ill.
DB took the Metro back to her hotel around 9 pm. Tomorrow she leaves at noon for home.

Tuesday, March 7th
I got up at 9 am, feeling sluggish and achy. These past five days were really tough with all the walking we did. I went up to the Citibank offices at Champs Elysses, but they wanted $42 foreign transaction fee for me to get my money. No way. I got some $ through the Citibank Mastercard. What nerve!
I then went to the Louis Vuitton shop, Virgin megastore, and took the Metro down to the Apple store in Le Mariais. Back home to food shop. I’m pooped. I am hoping to get to Reims tomorrow if the weather cooperates. I do not want to be walking around in the rain there, but that may be the case.

Wednesday, March 8th
It dawned cloudy with light rain but I decided to go to Reims anyway, and I am glad I did. Reims, by the way is pronounced “Rance”, the best way to catch the pronouncation is to hold your nose and take a deep breath. Can’t figure this language out yet! I caught the 11:16 train out of Gare d’Est and got there by 12:45. I was a little scared to leave the station, don’t know why but I wanted to get right back on the train. I didn’t, instead a grabbed a bus that said circular route. I really didn’t know where I was going, the driver spoke no English, but we got to the cathedral and he showed me where to get off. He was very anxious to help and I “merci’d” him profusely.
The city is very old, but I understand it has been rebuilt since the two world wars.
The cathedral mimics Chartres, very dark inside and very, very cold. It was the coldest of all the cathedrals that I have been in and in the greatest need of repair. Like Chartres, it is a UNESCO historical site, which I believe means that monies are appropriated by the United Nations to repair and renovate it. I was enamored because Clovis, king of the Franks was converted/baptized here in the 8th century and this brought Christianity to the people of France. Since then all but two kings have been crowned here. They make the pilgrimage in honor of Clovis.
Charles VII and Joan of Arc came here in 1429. They have a monument in her honor although it is quite small and I thought invoking her memory would be all over the church and the city. I didn’t see it.
I then went to the Delices Champenoises shop, 2 rue Rockfeller, 51100 Reims, near the church where I was just gaga over the selection and prices of champagne. Reims and Epenay, which is about 20 minutes Southwest of Reimes produce all of the French champagne. Epenay supposedly has 200 million bottles of the stuff underneath the streets of the city in caves. Give me a straw! I bought a bottle of Billecart Salmon, my favorite, which I will bring to London with me and Richard and I will enjoy it. I really didn’t too much time to walk around as it was very slippery, rainy and just dreary. Reims has a big shopping area. The next best stop was the Foie gras store where I bought a few things to ship back home. Very pleasant gentleman who spoke some English. He was very accommodating. I caught the 14:52 or 2:50 pm train back to Paris. I had a full compartment to myself. I just love these trains!
Got home by 5:30 pm.

Thursday, March 9th
The weather was bleak today. I was feeling very tired from my trip to Reims. I went to the Conceriegie today to see the Seine exhibit. It was well done, however, I was hoping to purchase some of the photographs and could not. I also took a tour of the Conceriegie which used to be a prison. Marie Antoinette was held there awaiting her execution, as was Robespierre. That took me about an hour.
I then walked through the flower mart where I purchased a beautiful tablecloth from Provence and some lavender scents for gifts.
I then walked over the Seine to Notre Dame to shop and have a baguette. I went down by the Seine and had my lunch. The sun was coming out a little.
Then I decided to walk back to Le Marais. I went to the Willy Ronis exhibit at the Hotel De Villle, which was marvelous although everything was in French. I like his photography on Paris. I will purchase a book this coming week.
My travels took me to the Saint Paul metro stop. I picked up the train there to Nation. I rested and then went to the FIAP as I had a dinner date with DV. We had a drink at the FIAP with Scott, Ed, Norma, Tom, BF and D. DV and I then walked up through the 14th looking for the restaurant Le Temps Des Cerises (Cherry Blossom Time). We found it and had a lovely dinner. We got there around 7:25 and were there until 9:45. I had cassoulet which was the best I ever tasted. DV had sausage which I think was still squeeling! We shared a bottle of wine, Fitou and then came home via the Metro. I didn’t feel nervous or scared coming home from the metro by myself.

Friday, March 10th
BF and I went to the Montmartre today after stopping at Rue de Beaubourg to visit a pen/paper store and E.Delliherin is the place to go for copper cookware and any other kitchen supplies. It is located at 18 et 20, rue Coquillière - 51, rue Jean- Jacques Rousseau - 75001 PARIS. I just couldn’t stand it. I adore cooking and wanted to ship the entire store home.
We then took the Metro to Anvers, the Montmartre metro stop. The name "Montmartre" comes from "Mont des Martyrs" (the bishop St. Denis, the priest Rustique, and the archdeacon Eleuthère were all decapitated there around the year 250). Little did we know that there is an elevator to the top of the Butte, we must have climbed 200 steps. That did me in for the rest of the day; it was a struggle to walk. My left ankle needs an adjustment badly as does the rest of me. I see Monsieur Levy on Monday.
We had a delicious lunch at Le Sancerre. The two waiters were extremely gay and cute. BF had calamari Provence with garlic and olive oil and I had confit of canard with garlic potatoes which BF and I devoured. We had Kir and a crème caramel for dessert. Fortified we set out to do the Picasso’s Paris walk.
First we saw the Moulin de Galette which is the famous windmill that first Renoir, then Picasso painted. Renoir’s had working class folks dressed in their Sunday best dancing at the hall; Picasso turned it around and painted women of the night and low-lifes. What a contrast.
We meet two cute little dykes who took our pics in from of the place then we hiked up to Sacre Coeur. The streets are very narrow with stone walls and cobblestoned streets. It began to hail as we approached Sacre Coeur. It is a beautiful church, very clean. Later I learned they built it from a stone that cleans itself everytime it rains. We were just in time for 3 pm mass. It was emotional to hear the music, but the rest I could leave! We walked quietly around inside, then outside as the sun burst through the clouds. I took some panoramic pics then focused on the Montmatre steps. This, for whatever reason has always been the most romantic place in the world to me. Can’t figure it out, I’d never seen them before, but these steps, particularly on a foggy evening with the streetlamps shrouding the fog, did it for me. The Montmartre Steps is a famous photo of Brassai.
Well, I wasn’t disappointed. We then continued to walk through the area, through the winding streets until we came to Lapin Agile. This is the bistro that Picasso made famous in his advertisement for the restaurant. I am trying to find a poster of it, but BF thinks it is copyrighted so it might be impossible. We took some decent pics then headed down the hill to the Cemetery. By now it was almost 5 pm and it was very cold and rainy. We skipped the cemetery and hopped the Metro home.
We were both pooped, and my left foot was just ready for the garbage bin. We had dinner; filet of beouf, wine and BF had a sweet for dessert. We chatted away, and turned in around ten. I do have to say that this was one of the most memorable days in Paris.

Saturday, March 11th
Guess what? It dawned overcast and cold. But that didn’t stop us as we decided to go to the Latin Quarter. We decided to go to St. Etienne Du Mont, this is the church were St. Genevieve is buried. That was BF’s mother’s name and she was excited to go there. It was a beautiful church, but we were shooed out at noon. They closed for lunch. We then went to the Pantheon and I really liked that because it is history stuff – the heroes of France are buried there, like Jean Moulin, Voltaire, Rousseau, Zola, Hugo and Braille. The only woman buried there is Madame Curie. The pendulum is also there. I have to read up on that as I’m not sure what it is. Sometimes I feel so backwards, particularly with BF around. She knows a lot of things, but I probably know a little more history than her.
The Pantheon is directly across from the University of Paris. We felt like we were in the echelons of higher learning; which we were. Little did we know that the police stormed the Sorbonne, which is nearby on Saturday morning as the students were protesting new labor laws.
We stopped for a leisurely lunch at a Lebanese restaurant. Delicious. BF had a couscous plate with beouf; I had mouton tagine. I have taken a hankering to pastis, which tastes like aniesette. It is a tasty apertif.
Again, the rain and cold did us in, we came home around 4pm.

Sunday, March 12th
Hooray, the sun shone the entire day! We hurried out along with the rest of Paris to take in the rays. It was still pretty cold but our spirits were high. BF wanted to go to the Marais to check out a paper shop and the Musee de Picasso. I wanted to see if we could find the falafel place. We had a fabulous day.
We did find a tastyJewish deli, bought some pastrami and bread for Sunday night dinner. We went to the Picasso museum. It was ok, but I’m not into cubism or abstract art. BF enjoyed it immensely.
After that we went to Les Arcades for a light lunch-quiche lorraine for me, pasta with salmon for BF.
We then took a long walk throughout the Marais, finally taking the Metro home from Hotel De Ville. We got back around 4 pm as BF needed to do school work. We had a good Jewish dinner, wine and I bought BF a dessert which she devoured.

Monday, March 13th
My days are dwindling here in Paris. I bought a box today to ship some things home. A big part of me is ready to move on, I’ve done so much here, saw so much, tasted so much and have taken so much into my heart and head hat I can’t do much more without moving here and getting a job! I have been seduced mind, body and soul. I’m teary as I am writing this. If I were staying longer I would be traveling now. The weather is getting nicer, so I’d go to the caves, perhaps Berlin and other places beyond. I also realize that this costs money and lots of it. Just everyday living here is expensive, not so much food, but pharmacies like shampoo, deodorant. These things are equivalent to at least $9 in SF. There aren’t many, if any discount stores. I did go down to the Marais area, went to C&A shopping. That is another problem – there is little in my size. I would either need to go on a very strict diet or do my shopping in Germany! Bought a few things and came back for my 4:30 appt. with Patrick Levy the chiropractor. I do feel better after seeing him. It cost $40.00.
BF is at the Pompidieu tonight until about 10 pm. I will continue to work on my novel. Tomorrow is drinks at Scott at 6:30. I really don’t want to say auvoir to the group as I will cry. They have made my experience so much richer, hopefully we can get together when we all get back in the Bay Area.
Tomorrow I need to get another box. I think I might go to the Montparnasse area or Bastille area tomorrow. I haven’t been there yet. Of course, if it a sunny day I might to the Chateau de Vincennes. Auvoir for the night.

Tuesday, March 14th
I went to the post office to drop off my box. The woman there is just wonderful, very helpful. After that I took the #6 to Passy and went to the Musee de Vins. I then walked all the way down Bd I’lena, Montaigne where all the rich folk congregate, down the Champs Elysses to the Concorde, picking up a few gifts along the way. I then went food shopping.
Tonight we went over to Scott’s apartment. His place is small but quite cozy. It is a stones throw from the Eiffel Tower. You can put your arm out the window and touch it!
We had some snacks and martinis. Ed, David, Kirsty, Tom, B, Scott and I had a wonderful time laughing and watching Scott do the ritual with absinthe. It contains wormwood which is considered an hallucinogenic drug in the U.S. What an interesting ritual and we all took a sip. It was delicious.
We stayed until 10:15, then took the Metro home.
Scott played Simon and Garfunkel and people reminisced about how the music had reminded them of either a particular time, place or person. For me it was the time and place, the late 60s, early 70s and the place was NY. Bridge Over Troubled Water always does it for me, boo hoo.

Wednesday, March 15th
Beware the Ides of March. Today was sunny and cold. I went over to the Left Bank, St.Germain and walked around, then over Notre Dame via Pont Neuf for some scarves at the outside vendors. Then I walked over to the Hotel De Ville where I picked up another scarf. They are easy to pack. Got home around 3 pm with very achy feet. Went to get another box at the post office. Early to bed tonight.

Thursday, March 16th
My last day to play in Paris. Tomorrow I have a 9:10 train to Waterloo Station where RMC will hopefully meet me. The time has just flown by, yet, as I was walking around today I felt rather listless with little purpose. I think that means it is time for new adventures. I took another box to the post office, then headed off for the Marais.
The weather has turned cold and overcast again. One thing I will miss is to watch the trees bud, that would be a lovely sight to see. I was particularly sad to think that I would not get to see the magnolia tree bloom in the courtyard below. BF said she would send me a photo, and she did.

Friday, March 17th
I had little time to wallow in my misery of leaving Paris. The taxi came right on time and I needed to be alert as I was traveling alone. Once I got on the Eurostar, I began to feel very sad as it left the station and the suburbs of Paris. What really saved me from getting overly emotional and making a fool of myself was that my ipod hadn’t charged properly so I couldn’t listen to all my French music. All I would have needed was “Butterfly” or “Douce France” (Gentle France) playing in my ear and my memories would come rushing back; I’d have been a mess. But, again I needed to be alert as I was traveling alone.
I got to Waterloo Station, London around 11am and RMC was waiting for me. I got misty when I saw him as I hadn’t seen anyone from home in seven weeks. He insisted we take the Tube to the hotel and again the nightmare of BF and my trying to schlepp all that luggage up the Tube stairs came to mind. I insisted we take a cab, but he carried most of the bags. We were staying at the Copthorne Tara Hotel London Kensington_Scarsdale Place, Kensington, London, UK W8 5SRTara hotel in South Kensington.
Once I got settled, we went to the Prince of Wales pub. I had mushroom and steak pie which was quite a contrast from the baguettes I had been having for lunch in Paris. The baguettes are better!

Richard wanted to visit Buckingham Palace so off we went on the Tube. After walking around Buckingham Palace (the Queen was not in residence, what nerve!), we walked over to the Parliament Building and Westminster Abbey. I had seen it with BF, RMC did enjoy it, but within a half hour he had enough. We went back to our hotel in South Kensington and popped the cork on our first bottle of Billecart-Salmon Brut Reserve.
After draining the bottle, we decided to have some Lebanese food for dinner. Off we went to Bayswater.
This was another part of London that has become a mecca for Middle Easterners. We ate at a restaurant called Casablanca. Again, the Lebanese food was delicious and I realized it was fast becoming my favorite. On our stroll back to the Tube, we found a casino. Casinos in London are quite different than in the U.S. You had to join, and while membership was free, RMC had to surrender his passport. I wouldn’t give anyone my passport so I waited outside for him. He lasted about 1/2 hr., didn’t win anything and we went back to the hotel.

Saturday, March 18th
What a cold, overcast frigid day. I had intestinal problems and RMC came down with a bad cold. We had a continental breakfast. One of the things I enjoyed most about the continental breakfast was how you heard so many different languages spoken. There certainly was a United Nations at the hotel!
We went down to Leceister Square for Tkts, however, we were both feeling rather poorly so decided to skip it. We walked down Oxford, Regent, and Carnaby St., and went to warm up in a Starbucks which dot the London scene. We had soba noodles for lunch at a little Japanese restaurant. Although it was freezing out, we walked to Trafalger Square. By the afternoon the sun was coming out and we landed right in the middle of a peace demonstration. It was the third anniversary of the Iraq War and Londoners were very angry calling George Bush a terrorist and demanding Tony Blair’s resignation. I was quite pleased to see the turnout. We walked over the Silver Jubilee Bridge to try and get on the London Eye but to no avail. We took the tube from Waterloo back to the hotel. After a short nap, we went to Bibendum for dinner. It is located in an art deco building which used to be an old motorcar garage. This is one of the finer restaurants in London. The beef was good, but the fresh seafood platter seemed flat. The pinot from Australia was delicious. Took a cab home and collapsed.

Sunday, March 19th
Today we went to the Tower of London. What history! We took the individual tour. I will put together a little slideshow. We stayed about two hours; then walked through the Docklands looking for a Tube station. RMC seemed to think he knew where he was going – wrong.
The highlight of the day besides the Tower was the high tea we had in Kensington place, the home of Princess Diana. It was delicious. We had salmon sandwiches with the crusts off, champagne, and scones with clotted crème. Oh, and tea! The British like it strong and with milk. RMC took off to the casinos and I went back to the room to write and pack for Bath.

Monday, March 20th
Off on another adventure! Oh, should I bother to mention it was overcast and nasty today! RMC has the flu, yet we left for Bath via Paddington Station at 10 am. We arrived in Bath around 12:30, found our Bed and Breakfast, the Crescent Gardens, dumped our things and went to the Firehouse Grill for lunch-delicious crab and lobster cakes and pizza. We walked along Bath’s shopping area and the highlight of the day was the Roman Baths were we (I) spent two hours. The Baths were built during the first century CE, almost two thousand years ago. They are still relatively well preserved. We had another bottle of Billecart-Salmon which I drank mostly myself as RMC was too sick to care. I can’t even remember where we had dinner that night, or even if we had dinner as we were full from lunch and RMC was pretty sick.

Tuesday, March 21st
Cold and overcast. John and Gilly Deacon and Oska, the border collie were our hosts. I’ve never had an English breakfast – eggs, bacon (not like our bacon, more like Canadian bacon), sausage, toast, and tea. The guests were all English except for RMC and I. Someone mentioned George Bush and RMC went ballistic and called him an idiot. He was very animated, unlike the English. Nigel, one of the guest said with a straight face, “I do think he speaks a lot of poppycock” and I almost choked. He was right out of an Agatha Christie novel. All of the guests had nothing nice to say about Tony Blair except that they all felt betrayed by him, particularly about Iraq. RMC went back to bed, I went for a walk and got a haircut at Supercuts. RMC finally got up at 1 pm and we went to the Bath Abbey which is beautiful and very simple. It was much to cold to walk around, but we did manage to trudge up to the local park. Had dinner at Mezzaluna-very tasty but too much food. English food has improved. Back to London tomorrow

Wednesday, March 22nd
Guess what? Weather was cold and overcast. We took the train back to London – arrived around 1 pm.
RMC booked us into the Rubens At the Palace Hotel across from Buckingham palace. What a lovely place. Our window looked over the horse stalls and parking garage so we could see all the comings and goings at the Palace. RMC choose it so we could watch the comings and going of the Royal Family. Our window overlooked the entrance to the Palace of visitors and the Royal family outings. I kidded RMC that they would think he was a terrorist for hanging out the window all the time!

I was feeling pretty lousy, intestinal problems again. Nothing was going to stop me and I took a walk to the Palace while RMC went to Baywater looking for a massage. I had a great time sitting in the lobby and we decided to have a light dinner in the dining parlor at the hotel. I did observe that people coming in and out were dressed quite conservative and rather elegant. RMC even got stopped at the door because he had jeans on. Naturally, he got indignant. Since we were still feeling lousy we went to bed rather early.

Thursday, March 23rd
Our last day in London, my last day in Europe. I have to say I was not looking forward to coming back to the U.S. I was beginning to like the “stuffiness” of the English and the politeness of the French, I didn’t want to have to get used to the “rude” Americans again.
It was a warm and sunny day and we decided to go to Windsor Castle. We stayed around three hours and took a guided tour. Again, the history is overwhelming. We both continued to feel ill, we took the train back to Victoria station. RMC went to the casino and Oxford Circus and I bought a few shirts before retiring to the hotel lobby for my daily perusal of the guests. We had a delicious dinner at the Library in the hotel. The steak was fabulous, however, I was still feeling pretty awful, We took a long soak in the bath, packed our things and got ready to leave on Friday morning.

Friday, March 24th
The weather was overcast with a little rain in the AM. I wasn’t too nervous about flying, then again I felt so awful that I really didn’t care what happened in the air! RMC and I went for a walk around Buckingham palace before we left for the airport. We were trying to keep the momentum alive until we grabbed the taxi around 10 am. It cost 70lbs ($122.00) for the taxi. RMC almost had a stroke. Heathrow is quite a distance from downtown London. My British Airways flight was 1.5 hrs. late taking off, however, I had such bad stomach cramps I almost didn’t make the flight. I seriously thought about going to the hospital.
After 7.5 hrs. of miserable spasms, I arrived in Washington, DC @ 6:50 pm, and had a quick trip through customs. My dear friend Jeffy was there to met me. We drove to Bethesda where he and Phil just bought a house. After a little soup and 1/2 of a Manhattan to kill the parasites inside me, I collapsed into bed.

Saturday morning, March 25th
Coming back to the U.S. was difficult. I was glad that I had decided to visit Washington, DC and then head on to New York to visit family and friends. I felt very disoriented, not because of the flight, but because I wasn’t sure I wanted to be here. I had grown accustomed to the slower pace in Paris, the inherent politeness and I began to think that perhaps I was born on the wrong continent. Please don’t’ get me wrong, I am proud of being an American (most of the time), and realize that opportunity abounds here if one works hard. However, I’m not quite sure I belong, nor want to belong.
It’s taken me quite a while to put my finger on why I feel this way. Then about three weeks ago I figured it out. Since France, Germany and Britain are primarily homogenous, that is, there is not the diversity that exists in the United States, there seems to be sense of "common culture." Living in San Francisco, which is a polygot of culture, there is not a sense of common culture. I'm not saying it is right or wrong; it just is. I shared my observations with my colleagues at school. I said I felt that the French, Germans, and British have a strong sense of self, i.e. they know whom they are because they share a common heritage. In addition, the history that they share shapes their outlook and pride. Their history also goes back thousands of years. We’re still pups as far as history goes, after all, we’re only two hundred something years old. For example, the French have given the world the Enlightenment philosophers and the British, the Magna Carta. They are inherently proud of this.
There also seems to be a pride in the French and Germans which I did not feel in England. Young people in both Paris and Munich dressed smartly, no droppy, off-the ass pants, no baseball hats turned all which ways, in fact, no baseball hats at all. Soccer jerseys were not in sight, nor were many jeans, and I did not see tatoo. Not even a tatoo parlor.

Auvoir,

Rosemary Bell
San Francisco
January 30th, 2007