There was a mural around the corner from our apartment. I am sorry I didn’t get a picture of it before today, as it is being redone. It had a bit of graffiti on one area of it, but overall I didn’t think it was too bad. It had a couple of messages on it that I had intended to photograph one day so I could translate the message, but I guess I will never get the chance. Oh, well . . . c’est la vie! I am looking forward to seeing what the new one will be.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010 Day 27
Another lazy day – two in a row! More laundry – I’m about to catch up from my trip. Roger’s back is bothering him when he stands up, so he has been lying down a good deal. We went out first to Office Depot for a dual purpose. Roger had sent an e-mail to our bank asking them to arrange payment of our August rent, since we have not gotten a password from them yet to facilitate our on-line banking. He got a response yesterday from the bank instructing us to fax the name and banking information of the recipient and the amount, and sign the fax, and they would take care of it. Additionally, I wanted to get four flash 2G drives. We were able to take care of both of those matters at the OD, which is just around the corner from us. From there we went on to the market, and today seemed to be jewelry day – there were many more jewelry booths than we have ever seen before. Indeed, there was a scarcity of food booths – probably less than 10 in the 60-80 booths that make up the market. We bought fish, vegetables and fruit. We have determined that the fruit and vegetables are less expensive at the market than from the shops along the streets, but I also discovered that they are not as tasty. I got some apricots today and they were only okay. They were still better than what I could buy in grocery stores in the U.S., but not as tasty as those sold by my favorite fruit vendor. Oddly enough, I will buy his fruits but not his vegetables. Most of these shops are open-air affairs, and their vegetables look tired, I think from not selling fast enough. The peppers are wrinkly, the cucumbers limp and most of the other vegetables kind of sad. The fruits seem to move more quickly so they are fresher. When he runs low, he brings out more from the back.
We forgot to get milk and cheese, so we went out again to mail a letter and go to the grocery store. We mailed the letter first, and this time I conducted the transaction without a hitch. It costs about twice the U.S. postage to send a letter from here to Boise – .78€. We had discussed in the past whether to buy refrigerated milk or shelf milk, so we checked the price of cold milk versus ultra-pasteurized shelf milk and bought the latter, as there was about a .40€ difference – not a lot but there doesn’t seem to be any difference in taste. Roger bought some orange cheese while at the store. It looks a lot like cheddar. It’s not too bad, but it doesn’t have a cheddar taste to it.
Cheese – I forgot to mention last week that we bought some really raunchy cheese on our trip to the grocery store in Jerzens. Most of my sisters have pretty catholic taste in foods – we love our fruit and vegetables but tend to enjoy a broad spectrum of foods and are moderately adventurous in trying new foods. But this cheese was beyond the pale! It tasted like someone’s grossest gas smells! Ugh!!!!
The last of the laundry finally finished drying – it takes about 24 hours to dry blue jeans and heavy pants, and the red-striped shirt I bought for Bastille Day is also pretty heavy and takes its time. Tomorrow we will wash towels, which will also take all day. Roger said it may rain tomorrow, in which case we will have to dry them in front of the fan.
Saturday morning on the way to Vipiteno, I copied everyone’s camera picture cards onto my computer. Today I spent the afternoon transferring pictures of our Sisters Reunion to the four flash drives for my sisters, one for each sister. In this way, we have shared all our photos with one another. I didn’t get pictures of Vipiteno nor of the Tyrol show on Saturday, and I didn’t take any myself, but that only leaves a few for us to share by email or otherwise.
I fixed fish for supper, along with a potato, onion and pepper dish, fresh green beans and salad made with half a mango, lettuce, bell pepper and balsamic vinaigrette dressing. The fish we didn’t care for too much – we are experimenting with fish from the market and we don’t always know what we are buying. This was another bland white fish - I don't remember what it was called, but the flakes were quite large. I am going to have to learn more ways to cook fish than to broil it with butter. The salad was outstanding. I guess it should have been – I bought two mangos from my favorite fruit vendor and paid 10.72€, or about $13 for the two. Ouch! But the first one was really good, and I am sure the second one will be equally tasty.
Another lazy day – two in a row! More laundry – I’m about to catch up from my trip. Roger’s back is bothering him when he stands up, so he has been lying down a good deal. We went out first to Office Depot for a dual purpose. Roger had sent an e-mail to our bank asking them to arrange payment of our August rent, since we have not gotten a password from them yet to facilitate our on-line banking. He got a response yesterday from the bank instructing us to fax the name and banking information of the recipient and the amount, and sign the fax, and they would take care of it. Additionally, I wanted to get four flash 2G drives. We were able to take care of both of those matters at the OD, which is just around the corner from us. From there we went on to the market, and today seemed to be jewelry day – there were many more jewelry booths than we have ever seen before. Indeed, there was a scarcity of food booths – probably less than 10 in the 60-80 booths that make up the market. We bought fish, vegetables and fruit. We have determined that the fruit and vegetables are less expensive at the market than from the shops along the streets, but I also discovered that they are not as tasty. I got some apricots today and they were only okay. They were still better than what I could buy in grocery stores in the U.S., but not as tasty as those sold by my favorite fruit vendor. Oddly enough, I will buy his fruits but not his vegetables. Most of these shops are open-air affairs, and their vegetables look tired, I think from not selling fast enough. The peppers are wrinkly, the cucumbers limp and most of the other vegetables kind of sad. The fruits seem to move more quickly so they are fresher. When he runs low, he brings out more from the back.
We forgot to get milk and cheese, so we went out again to mail a letter and go to the grocery store. We mailed the letter first, and this time I conducted the transaction without a hitch. It costs about twice the U.S. postage to send a letter from here to Boise – .78€. We had discussed in the past whether to buy refrigerated milk or shelf milk, so we checked the price of cold milk versus ultra-pasteurized shelf milk and bought the latter, as there was about a .40€ difference – not a lot but there doesn’t seem to be any difference in taste. Roger bought some orange cheese while at the store. It looks a lot like cheddar. It’s not too bad, but it doesn’t have a cheddar taste to it.
Cheese – I forgot to mention last week that we bought some really raunchy cheese on our trip to the grocery store in Jerzens. Most of my sisters have pretty catholic taste in foods – we love our fruit and vegetables but tend to enjoy a broad spectrum of foods and are moderately adventurous in trying new foods. But this cheese was beyond the pale! It tasted like someone’s grossest gas smells! Ugh!!!!
The last of the laundry finally finished drying – it takes about 24 hours to dry blue jeans and heavy pants, and the red-striped shirt I bought for Bastille Day is also pretty heavy and takes its time. Tomorrow we will wash towels, which will also take all day. Roger said it may rain tomorrow, in which case we will have to dry them in front of the fan.
Saturday morning on the way to Vipiteno, I copied everyone’s camera picture cards onto my computer. Today I spent the afternoon transferring pictures of our Sisters Reunion to the four flash drives for my sisters, one for each sister. In this way, we have shared all our photos with one another. I didn’t get pictures of Vipiteno nor of the Tyrol show on Saturday, and I didn’t take any myself, but that only leaves a few for us to share by email or otherwise.
I fixed fish for supper, along with a potato, onion and pepper dish, fresh green beans and salad made with half a mango, lettuce, bell pepper and balsamic vinaigrette dressing. The fish we didn’t care for too much – we are experimenting with fish from the market and we don’t always know what we are buying. This was another bland white fish - I don't remember what it was called, but the flakes were quite large. I am going to have to learn more ways to cook fish than to broil it with butter. The salad was outstanding. I guess it should have been – I bought two mangos from my favorite fruit vendor and paid 10.72€, or about $13 for the two. Ouch! But the first one was really good, and I am sure the second one will be equally tasty.
Recuperating
Monday, July 26, 2010 Day 26
Today was a take-it-easy day. I slept until 9:00, then got up and started laundry. There was almost nothing in the house to eat except for some veal stew which Roger had made while I was gone. I had a bit of it for a late supper when I got in last night, but didn’t want it for lunch. So we set out for the local grocery store, this not being a market day. Roger got some ham for sandwiches and I got some soup in a box, along with some bread, some crackers, and some cookies. When we got home and were putting up the groceries, Roger handed me the box of crackers and asked if they should be refrigerated. I said “no, they are just crackers,” and he asked me to touch the box. Once I did, I understood the question. The grocery store is very cold, and the items we bring home from there are quite cold as well. Nice for the produce and milk and such, but it even makes the paper boxes of crackers, soap, etc. exceedingly cool. Roger had a sandwich for lunch, and I had my soup. It wasn’t bad – a puree of mixed vegetables. This afternoon we did some more laundry, then napped for a while, romped a bit, and napped again.
We went out for dinner, and Roger ordered something called andouillette. That translates on the quick Google translator on the phone as sausage, and since LaPlace is the Andouille Capital of the World, he thought he was pretty safe. Little did he know! He ordered it, and didn’t particularly enjoy it. He decided it was a sausage casing filled with tripe. I am not familiar on a personal level with tripe, but I would tend to agree with him – it had an earthy, organ-meat taste to it, but was in little odd pieces. I had goat cheese ravioli, which was rather bland. Later, he checked on the meaning and learned that it is a coarse-grained smoked tripe sausage made with pork (or occasionally, veal), chitterlings, pepper, wine, onions, and seasonings. Andouille in southern Louisiana is also a coarse-grained sausage but it is made of largish chunks of pork (as opposed to ground meat), salt, pepper and garlic: No tripe or other intestines. Poor Roger! He really doesn’t care for organ meats and he keeps managing to order them!
Today was a take-it-easy day. I slept until 9:00, then got up and started laundry. There was almost nothing in the house to eat except for some veal stew which Roger had made while I was gone. I had a bit of it for a late supper when I got in last night, but didn’t want it for lunch. So we set out for the local grocery store, this not being a market day. Roger got some ham for sandwiches and I got some soup in a box, along with some bread, some crackers, and some cookies. When we got home and were putting up the groceries, Roger handed me the box of crackers and asked if they should be refrigerated. I said “no, they are just crackers,” and he asked me to touch the box. Once I did, I understood the question. The grocery store is very cold, and the items we bring home from there are quite cold as well. Nice for the produce and milk and such, but it even makes the paper boxes of crackers, soap, etc. exceedingly cool. Roger had a sandwich for lunch, and I had my soup. It wasn’t bad – a puree of mixed vegetables. This afternoon we did some more laundry, then napped for a while, romped a bit, and napped again.
We went out for dinner, and Roger ordered something called andouillette. That translates on the quick Google translator on the phone as sausage, and since LaPlace is the Andouille Capital of the World, he thought he was pretty safe. Little did he know! He ordered it, and didn’t particularly enjoy it. He decided it was a sausage casing filled with tripe. I am not familiar on a personal level with tripe, but I would tend to agree with him – it had an earthy, organ-meat taste to it, but was in little odd pieces. I had goat cheese ravioli, which was rather bland. Later, he checked on the meaning and learned that it is a coarse-grained smoked tripe sausage made with pork (or occasionally, veal), chitterlings, pepper, wine, onions, and seasonings. Andouille in southern Louisiana is also a coarse-grained sausage but it is made of largish chunks of pork (as opposed to ground meat), salt, pepper and garlic: No tripe or other intestines. Poor Roger! He really doesn’t care for organ meats and he keeps managing to order them!
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Back in Paris - Home Sweet Home
Sunday, July 25, 2010 Day 25
I awoke early this morning. We had left our window open last night to get some air, and the sun was beginning to lighten the sky well before 6:00. I dozed thereafter as Wanda got up, performed her morning ablutions and prepared to leave for her 10:00 flight out of Innsbruck. After she left along with Charlotte, who drove her to the airport, I rose and got ready for breakfast. I was joined by Mary Ellen and Jane for a lovely repast of bread, cheese, various confits, jams, jellies, honey, coffee, tea, and boiled eggs. Not outstanding, but pretty nice nevertheless – a typical hotel breakfast offering in western Europe. Charlotte returned from the airport and I moved all my belongings up from our third-floor room to their fourth-floor room as my check-out time was 11:00. Jane, Mary Ellen and I then left for a walk. We headed down to the train station where I bought a reserved seat for 3.50€ - well worth the guarantee of a seat rather than sitting in the aisle on my luggage. We returned to the hotel and played cards for a while. Around 1:00 we left to walk again to the city center for lunch, pulling my luggage. We ate at the same restaurant we patronized a week ago and had the same waitress. With 35 minutes before my train departure, we decided to have ice cream. We had trouble getting our waitress’ attention at first, then there was another delay before she actually came to see what we needed. We placed our orders, with me ordering coffee with ice cream in it, topped with whipped cream. With less than 15 minutes to go, I got antsy and felt the need to leave. Charlotte agreed to go talk to the waitress and ask her if she could put my drink in a cup to go. She said she didn’t have a big enough cup, so we had her put it in two cups and Mary Ellen and I scuttled out the door to the train station, which was right across the street. As it turned out, my panic was misplaced and we had more than enough time. But Mary Ellen was glad to help me out and to see just how short the stop was – she and Jane are going to be traveling next week to Italy, then to Switzerland, then on to Paris, all by train. The train pulled in exactly on time, and I hopped on. Mary Ellen offered to get on with me since I was carrying one piece of her luggage, which slowed me down a bit, but I declined, concerned that she might find herself stuck on the train due to the brief time the train spends in the station. I found my appointed seat and settled in. My seatmate was a young man who slept a great deal of the trip, and got off about halfway to Munich. The rest of the trip I had no seatmate. I spent most of it catching up on my blog.
I arrived in Munich, changed trains at the Munich East station and arrived at the airport at Terminal 2 promptly. I misread the departure screen and headed for Terminal 1, but when I got there, I discovered that the flight I thought was mine was actually a Lufthansa flight, and that my Air France flight would leave out of Terminal 2. Sigh. Back to Terminal 2, where I checked in without incident except that I set off the alarm and had to be wanded and patted down. The same thing happened in Paris before I boarded the plane there. Additionally, when the carry-on luggage went through the screening, the inspectors needed to see what was in Mary Ellen’s bag. Turned out the dominoes she sent with me are what invoked their curiosity. The flight to Paris was uneventful, except that I worried the whole time that my RER train ticket was not valid. When I left Paris, I had two RER tickets – one that I had used to arrive at the airport, and one that I would use going back. I didn’t recall throwing the used one away, but I could only find one. I have not used the tickets enough to know what they look like when they have been used, and I was unable to determine whether my ticket was the used one or the good one. I solved the problem by approaching the RER information station, handing the ticket to the attendant and asking him if it was valid. He said it was, and he was right. However, the train gates do not stay open very long after a ticket is validated, and I had a large suitcase which I pushed ahead of me and I was trailing dual smaller carry-ons. The gates are very narrow, and the large suitcase barely fit through. I had to push hard and pull at the same time. I got through the gate and promptly fell on my large suitcase! Ouch!!
The train pulled in shortly after I got down to the platform. I got on, left the large suitcase in the entryway and took the smaller two to a seat. I was too far away to keep a constant eye on my large case, but I checked on it occasionally. At the stop just before mine, a woman pushed the case out into the aisle so she could sit on the fold-down seat there, as the train was rather full. I was able to pick it up and disembark without a problem.
My seat companion on the train was a black woman with at least a thousand tiny braids. They were beautiful. She wore them parted in the middle and they fell down below her shoulders – hundreds and hundreds of braids not much larger than the wire of a coat hanger. It must have taken her hours to have it done! Hmmmm . . . .
At the my stop, I got out and took the elevator upstairs. There, I started by pushing my large bag through a rather small gate designed just for luggage. I chose to push my carry-ons through the exit gate with me. I approached a gate with a green light and looked for the slot to insert my ticket, but there was none! A gentleman pointed out that the gate was strictly for those with travel cards, not paper tickets. He showed me the next gate over, indicating the slot for the ticket. I pushed my carry-ons to the gate, slipped in the ticket, and one side of the gate opened. The other side was cranky, and the guy behind me reached over my shoulder and forced it open, then urged me through and came through himself. I think he exited on my ticket, but who am I to complain??!!!! Out in the street, I found a taxi and had a quick ride home – much shorter than the 30 minutes it took us to walk it last Sunday morning! Roger was looking out the window for me, and came down before I got all the way out of the taxi. The driver had no change for my 10€ bill, and the fare was 7€, so Roger and I scraped together 8€ in coins and the driver seemed happy with that. Ah! It’s great to be home!
I awoke early this morning. We had left our window open last night to get some air, and the sun was beginning to lighten the sky well before 6:00. I dozed thereafter as Wanda got up, performed her morning ablutions and prepared to leave for her 10:00 flight out of Innsbruck. After she left along with Charlotte, who drove her to the airport, I rose and got ready for breakfast. I was joined by Mary Ellen and Jane for a lovely repast of bread, cheese, various confits, jams, jellies, honey, coffee, tea, and boiled eggs. Not outstanding, but pretty nice nevertheless – a typical hotel breakfast offering in western Europe. Charlotte returned from the airport and I moved all my belongings up from our third-floor room to their fourth-floor room as my check-out time was 11:00. Jane, Mary Ellen and I then left for a walk. We headed down to the train station where I bought a reserved seat for 3.50€ - well worth the guarantee of a seat rather than sitting in the aisle on my luggage. We returned to the hotel and played cards for a while. Around 1:00 we left to walk again to the city center for lunch, pulling my luggage. We ate at the same restaurant we patronized a week ago and had the same waitress. With 35 minutes before my train departure, we decided to have ice cream. We had trouble getting our waitress’ attention at first, then there was another delay before she actually came to see what we needed. We placed our orders, with me ordering coffee with ice cream in it, topped with whipped cream. With less than 15 minutes to go, I got antsy and felt the need to leave. Charlotte agreed to go talk to the waitress and ask her if she could put my drink in a cup to go. She said she didn’t have a big enough cup, so we had her put it in two cups and Mary Ellen and I scuttled out the door to the train station, which was right across the street. As it turned out, my panic was misplaced and we had more than enough time. But Mary Ellen was glad to help me out and to see just how short the stop was – she and Jane are going to be traveling next week to Italy, then to Switzerland, then on to Paris, all by train. The train pulled in exactly on time, and I hopped on. Mary Ellen offered to get on with me since I was carrying one piece of her luggage, which slowed me down a bit, but I declined, concerned that she might find herself stuck on the train due to the brief time the train spends in the station. I found my appointed seat and settled in. My seatmate was a young man who slept a great deal of the trip, and got off about halfway to Munich. The rest of the trip I had no seatmate. I spent most of it catching up on my blog.
I arrived in Munich, changed trains at the Munich East station and arrived at the airport at Terminal 2 promptly. I misread the departure screen and headed for Terminal 1, but when I got there, I discovered that the flight I thought was mine was actually a Lufthansa flight, and that my Air France flight would leave out of Terminal 2. Sigh. Back to Terminal 2, where I checked in without incident except that I set off the alarm and had to be wanded and patted down. The same thing happened in Paris before I boarded the plane there. Additionally, when the carry-on luggage went through the screening, the inspectors needed to see what was in Mary Ellen’s bag. Turned out the dominoes she sent with me are what invoked their curiosity. The flight to Paris was uneventful, except that I worried the whole time that my RER train ticket was not valid. When I left Paris, I had two RER tickets – one that I had used to arrive at the airport, and one that I would use going back. I didn’t recall throwing the used one away, but I could only find one. I have not used the tickets enough to know what they look like when they have been used, and I was unable to determine whether my ticket was the used one or the good one. I solved the problem by approaching the RER information station, handing the ticket to the attendant and asking him if it was valid. He said it was, and he was right. However, the train gates do not stay open very long after a ticket is validated, and I had a large suitcase which I pushed ahead of me and I was trailing dual smaller carry-ons. The gates are very narrow, and the large suitcase barely fit through. I had to push hard and pull at the same time. I got through the gate and promptly fell on my large suitcase! Ouch!!
The train pulled in shortly after I got down to the platform. I got on, left the large suitcase in the entryway and took the smaller two to a seat. I was too far away to keep a constant eye on my large case, but I checked on it occasionally. At the stop just before mine, a woman pushed the case out into the aisle so she could sit on the fold-down seat there, as the train was rather full. I was able to pick it up and disembark without a problem.
My seat companion on the train was a black woman with at least a thousand tiny braids. They were beautiful. She wore them parted in the middle and they fell down below her shoulders – hundreds and hundreds of braids not much larger than the wire of a coat hanger. It must have taken her hours to have it done! Hmmmm . . . .
At the my stop, I got out and took the elevator upstairs. There, I started by pushing my large bag through a rather small gate designed just for luggage. I chose to push my carry-ons through the exit gate with me. I approached a gate with a green light and looked for the slot to insert my ticket, but there was none! A gentleman pointed out that the gate was strictly for those with travel cards, not paper tickets. He showed me the next gate over, indicating the slot for the ticket. I pushed my carry-ons to the gate, slipped in the ticket, and one side of the gate opened. The other side was cranky, and the guy behind me reached over my shoulder and forced it open, then urged me through and came through himself. I think he exited on my ticket, but who am I to complain??!!!! Out in the street, I found a taxi and had a quick ride home – much shorter than the 30 minutes it took us to walk it last Sunday morning! Roger was looking out the window for me, and came down before I got all the way out of the taxi. The driver had no change for my 10€ bill, and the fare was 7€, so Roger and I scraped together 8€ in coins and the driver seemed happy with that. Ah! It’s great to be home!
24-7-2010
After dinner we moved into a small auditorium where a troupe of 12 professionals performed traditional Austrian dances and played traditional Austrian music, some of it on folk instruments. The announcer had to announce the various acts in three different languages, and by the time he got to the last one, he gave French short shrift. His speaking style was rather dry, almost bored. The performances were adequate but not particularly exciting. They gave us a different view into Austrian culture from what we had last night.
24-7-2010
Vipiteno is a small, quaint Italian town where 74% of the people identify German as their primary language. We ate lunch at a guesthouse, then walked down to the village, taking the long way around. There is one major tourist street which is lined with all the expected souvenir shops, with both low-end and high-end vendors, ice cream shops, gelato shops (it is Italy, after all), the usual stuff.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Goodbye to our hosts, Leins and the Gurgl Vally
Saturday, July 24, 2010 Day 24
We got up and packed preparatory to vacating the apartment. We were moving along nicely when I crossed the threshold to go down the steep, narrow stairs from our third-floor rooms to the car below. I had my small carry-on behind me and my computer in the other hand. On the stairs, I decided to switch hands so that the luggage would lead rather than follow. Somehow, between trying to switch hands with the computer and luggage and going downstairs at the same time, I lost my footing and fell about 6-8 steps. No permanent damage, but I have several bruises, and the one on my thigh is going to take a long time to heal. I sat for a moment to collect myself, and Gunter and Wanda had rushed back upstairs to help me. Fortunately all the rest of my luggage was already downstairs, and all I had to do was walk downstairs and get in the car.
We left about three minutes after ten – a very nice start! We headed to Vipiteno, Italy, the first town across the border from Austria. We got on the autobahn, paid the first toll and set off at a nice pace. As we approached Italy and the Brenner Pass, however, traffic began to be stop-and-go. We would move along and get up to 60 or 70 kph, then we would drop back down to creeping along or actually stopping. Then we would pick back up and move along around 80 or so, then drag again. We were unable to determine that the problem was anything more than the toll booths in Italy, as they were quite backed up when we finally got there. On our return to Austria, the trip took only about half as long as there were virtually no road problems. It turns out that there is always a traffic jam going south at the Brenner Pass.
I was able to locate a bank in Vipiteno and withdraw 200€ without a problem. I don’t know what happened in Jertzens. After a couple of hours in Vipiteno, we headed back to Innsbruck and located our hotel. On the way back, once we crossed into Austria, we looked up and could see snow falling on the mountaintops. Snow in July! I tried to get a picture of it but it just came out looking like clouds, and it was impossible to distinguish them from the snow on the trees and mountaintops. It was lovely!
In Innsbruck, we were very glad for Charlotte’s iPhone, because one of the main streets leading to our hotel was closed due to construction. With the narrow, winding streets, we would have taken twice as long to find our hotel had we not had it. Thanks, Charlotte! We were in two rooms in the hotel – Wanda and I were scheduled to depart on Sunday, so we were in one room. Charlotte, Jane and Mary Ellen were not to depart until Monday, so they had a 3-person room. Actually, it turned out that Wanda’s and my room was a 3-person room as well. Wanda, Jane and Charlotte went for a walk. I opted out, as I was tired out by my fall this morning and the day’s activities. I took my computer and went up to the 4th floor to keep Mary Ellen company, as she also did not want to go for a walk. They were gone about 30 minutes, and came back to report that Wanda had slipped in some mud and fallen. She did not appear to have hurt anything more than her dignity, but she had gotten rather dirty. Her backpack, which was quite muddy, apparently protected her at least somewhat from the worst of the fall. It was quite soiled, as were her pants and her shirttail. She had on her Sisters Muleshoe shirt, which we had planned to wear to the show that evening. She changed pants, rinsed out her dirty ones and brushed off her backpack a bit. She had on a jacket, but a first glance it did not appear to be dirty.
At 6:30 we set out on a 30-minute walk to dinner and a show. Dinner was a traditional Austrian wienershcnitzel, accompanied by French fries, salad, soup and apple strudel. From there we went into a small auditorium for the show. After the performance ended, we hired a taxi to take us back to the hotel, as it was raining and we were too tired to make the trek. Four of us had to squeeze into the back seat, but the trip was less than 10 minutes long.
Back at our room, I realized that Wanda’s pants had dust all over them, and we discovered that her jacket was quite muddy, but the pattern and color of the jacket completely hid the mud. The mud had dried during the evening, turned to dust and dropped all over her pants. She shook them out as best she could, as these were the pants she was going to wear on her long trip home.
We got up and packed preparatory to vacating the apartment. We were moving along nicely when I crossed the threshold to go down the steep, narrow stairs from our third-floor rooms to the car below. I had my small carry-on behind me and my computer in the other hand. On the stairs, I decided to switch hands so that the luggage would lead rather than follow. Somehow, between trying to switch hands with the computer and luggage and going downstairs at the same time, I lost my footing and fell about 6-8 steps. No permanent damage, but I have several bruises, and the one on my thigh is going to take a long time to heal. I sat for a moment to collect myself, and Gunter and Wanda had rushed back upstairs to help me. Fortunately all the rest of my luggage was already downstairs, and all I had to do was walk downstairs and get in the car.
We left about three minutes after ten – a very nice start! We headed to Vipiteno, Italy, the first town across the border from Austria. We got on the autobahn, paid the first toll and set off at a nice pace. As we approached Italy and the Brenner Pass, however, traffic began to be stop-and-go. We would move along and get up to 60 or 70 kph, then we would drop back down to creeping along or actually stopping. Then we would pick back up and move along around 80 or so, then drag again. We were unable to determine that the problem was anything more than the toll booths in Italy, as they were quite backed up when we finally got there. On our return to Austria, the trip took only about half as long as there were virtually no road problems. It turns out that there is always a traffic jam going south at the Brenner Pass.
I was able to locate a bank in Vipiteno and withdraw 200€ without a problem. I don’t know what happened in Jertzens. After a couple of hours in Vipiteno, we headed back to Innsbruck and located our hotel. On the way back, once we crossed into Austria, we looked up and could see snow falling on the mountaintops. Snow in July! I tried to get a picture of it but it just came out looking like clouds, and it was impossible to distinguish them from the snow on the trees and mountaintops. It was lovely!
In Innsbruck, we were very glad for Charlotte’s iPhone, because one of the main streets leading to our hotel was closed due to construction. With the narrow, winding streets, we would have taken twice as long to find our hotel had we not had it. Thanks, Charlotte! We were in two rooms in the hotel – Wanda and I were scheduled to depart on Sunday, so we were in one room. Charlotte, Jane and Mary Ellen were not to depart until Monday, so they had a 3-person room. Actually, it turned out that Wanda’s and my room was a 3-person room as well. Wanda, Jane and Charlotte went for a walk. I opted out, as I was tired out by my fall this morning and the day’s activities. I took my computer and went up to the 4th floor to keep Mary Ellen company, as she also did not want to go for a walk. They were gone about 30 minutes, and came back to report that Wanda had slipped in some mud and fallen. She did not appear to have hurt anything more than her dignity, but she had gotten rather dirty. Her backpack, which was quite muddy, apparently protected her at least somewhat from the worst of the fall. It was quite soiled, as were her pants and her shirttail. She had on her Sisters Muleshoe shirt, which we had planned to wear to the show that evening. She changed pants, rinsed out her dirty ones and brushed off her backpack a bit. She had on a jacket, but a first glance it did not appear to be dirty.
At 6:30 we set out on a 30-minute walk to dinner and a show. Dinner was a traditional Austrian wienershcnitzel, accompanied by French fries, salad, soup and apple strudel. From there we went into a small auditorium for the show. After the performance ended, we hired a taxi to take us back to the hotel, as it was raining and we were too tired to make the trek. Four of us had to squeeze into the back seat, but the trip was less than 10 minutes long.
Back at our room, I realized that Wanda’s pants had dust all over them, and we discovered that her jacket was quite muddy, but the pattern and color of the jacket completely hid the mud. The mud had dried during the evening, turned to dust and dropped all over her pants. She shook them out as best she could, as these were the pants she was going to wear on her long trip home.
23-7-2010
Later, two of the Dutch men pulled out their squeeze boxes and played as well. I think they called their instruments harmonicas or harmoniums. They were smaller and more flexible than the accordion Mary Ellen was playing.
23-7-2010
The musician discovered that Mary Ellen plays the accordion and handed his off to her for a spell while he went over and flirted with a couple of young girls.
23-7-2010
At one point several people formed a conga-type line and pulled us into it. At other times we were pulled into other dances as well.
Party time for the Burger Babes
After our walk, played games, then had lunch of cheese, bread, mango, the last of salad, corn with Krauter Butter, and wine. We had two bottles today – forgot to mention that we had one bottle for dinner with our chicken pesto on Monday. It was a lychee-flavored wine cocktail – really good. Today we repeated the wine cocktail, but this time one bottle of Lemon Ice flavor and one of Lychee flavor. The Lychee won hands-down – the Lemon Ice tasted like Joy lemon dish washing soap smells. Rain again in the afternoon, so more games.
For supper we went to Jerzens to a guesthouse/restaurant and had lasagna, goulash and venison, then ice cream. It was quite good. We knew that there was music on Fridays, so we inquired and learned that the music started at 8:00. We went into the music room and sat down, but we were at least 15 minutes early, and there were smokers in the restaurant, so we left and walked down to the bank where I tried to get some money. I am not sure why, but the bank refused to cough up – I just got a message that my wishes were denied. So we walked back to the restaurant and the dance program. There were no vacant tables, but one table was occupied only by two women, so we were coaxed to joint them. The musician was Walter. He played a keyboard with a percussion add-on, and sang. Later he picked up an accordion, added the percussion to it and sang some more. To begin with, some of the couples were dancing. There were about 30 people in the room, and only 8-10 of them were men. We had tea and wine and cokes to drink and had a rollicking good time! The music shut down about 11:30 and we returned to our apartment a few miles up the road. This was our only late night.
For supper we went to Jerzens to a guesthouse/restaurant and had lasagna, goulash and venison, then ice cream. It was quite good. We knew that there was music on Fridays, so we inquired and learned that the music started at 8:00. We went into the music room and sat down, but we were at least 15 minutes early, and there were smokers in the restaurant, so we left and walked down to the bank where I tried to get some money. I am not sure why, but the bank refused to cough up – I just got a message that my wishes were denied. So we walked back to the restaurant and the dance program. There were no vacant tables, but one table was occupied only by two women, so we were coaxed to joint them. The musician was Walter. He played a keyboard with a percussion add-on, and sang. Later he picked up an accordion, added the percussion to it and sang some more. To begin with, some of the couples were dancing. There were about 30 people in the room, and only 8-10 of them were men. We had tea and wine and cokes to drink and had a rollicking good time! The music shut down about 11:30 and we returned to our apartment a few miles up the road. This was our only late night.
23-7-2010
Friday, July 23, 2010 Day 23
We arose to a view of clouds over the valley. After breakfast, we took a brief walk. The clouds were misting lightly for most of the walk. It was interesting watching the clouds drop and rise over the valley.
We arose to a view of clouds over the valley. After breakfast, we took a brief walk. The clouds were misting lightly for most of the walk. It was interesting watching the clouds drop and rise over the valley.
Dinner out and the Blue Grotto
We returned from Zammer Lochputz to the restaurant where we had had ice cream and chose another table on the terrace for supper. We shared plates of wienerschnitzel, spinach ravioli and pork with gravy. Delicious. A woman started waiting on our table, but she left after a bit and Christen took over. When we left the restaurant, we hiked down a path to view the Blue Grotto, which was less than a 10-minute hike from there. It was small cave down a path then off on a side path. We missed the “blue” of the Blue Grotto, but from the cave we could see a look-out area, so we ducked our heads down to get there and checked it out. I bumped my head a bit coming out, as did Charlotte. Then Wanda bumped her head much worse, as she did not realize the extent of the arch we had to duck under. I am sure she saw stars for a moment!
From there, we returned to our car and left for another night of games and serious conversation.
From there, we returned to our car and left for another night of games and serious conversation.
22-7-2010
At the top of the steps, after viewing some of the engineering for the generators which provide electricity for the area, we entered the mirror cave. It was odd – about 15-20 mirrors placed at intervals along the wall of a delightfully cool corridor. We exited the corridor and started down. When we were almost down, we arrived at a circular tower where we could have entered and watched a 20-minute video of the legend. It was in German, however, and we didn’t have 20 minutes left before closing, so we forewent the video. Here is Charlotte looking into her heart and finding that it is not stone!
22-7-2010
After our ice cream, we left for Zammer Lochputz, which is a mystical gorge in Zams in western Tyrol. The tour starts with the issue of hard hats for us all, and consists of a climb of some 260 steps. There were a couple of stops on the way up. The first was a detour to see a waterfall gushing down from above. The water was glacier water and cooled the area quite a bit. After a climb of several more steps, we entered a small stone arch and realized that we were actually behind the waterfall. It was even cooler here and the thundering of the water was tremendous. We moved through the arch and looked down on a portion of the waterfall where we could see stones in the shape of a water nymph and a bull. Note the bull's head just to the right of the center of the picture. The nymph's head is of dark stone at the bottom center of the picture.
Monday, July 26, 2010
22-7-2010
From the Alpenslide we walked to a restaurant where Christen worked – Christen being a cousin of Christoph, who works with Charlotte. He served us ice cream which we enjoyed on the terrace. The ice creams were very pretty, with heart-shaped cookies as a foil for the ice cream. Yummy!
22-7-2010
After lunch we drove to Arzl where we took another ski lift to a middle level then, after about a 30-minute wait, we took an Alpenslide down the hill. Lots of fun – worth every penny of the 11€ we paid. This is one of those rides down the hill in sleds which go down on a pair of steel rails. The rider controls the speed by pushing forward on the throttle or pulling back to slow or stop. Outstanding ride! Here I am coming in for a landing, with Mary Ellen and Wanda behind me.
22-7-2010
Rifflsee, or Riffle Lake. Note the lovely reflection on the water. I tried later, right at noon, to get a photo, but the overhead sun washed out the reflection. The water is a roiling gray color up close - the same color as the glacier water which feeds it. I assume that the color comes from the particulate matter which washes down from the glacier in the rushing water.
Rifflsee Lake - probably redundant, as "see" means "lake" so Riffl Lake
Thursday, July 22, 2010 Day 22
Charlotte had to remain at the apartment this morning, as her students were taking a test today. She had contributed two questions to the test, and she had to grade them. So Jane, Mary Ellen, Wanda and I left for a walk around Rifflsee lake. We drove toward the glacier end of the valley and parked at a ski lift. The lift took us to a glacial lake several hundred feet up. The walk around it was fairly easy – mostly level except at the beginning and end where we had to descend to the lake and climb back up afterward. It was a really lovely walk, and probably took us 45 minutes or so. We returned home for another wonderful lunch of local bread, Krauter butter, cheese, salad and fruit.
Charlotte had to remain at the apartment this morning, as her students were taking a test today. She had contributed two questions to the test, and she had to grade them. So Jane, Mary Ellen, Wanda and I left for a walk around Rifflsee lake. We drove toward the glacier end of the valley and parked at a ski lift. The lift took us to a glacial lake several hundred feet up. The walk around it was fairly easy – mostly level except at the beginning and end where we had to descend to the lake and climb back up afterward. It was a really lovely walk, and probably took us 45 minutes or so. We returned home for another wonderful lunch of local bread, Krauter butter, cheese, salad and fruit.
21-7-2010 - Yoga on the lawn
I forgot to mention that on Tuesday evening, I led Wanda, Jane and Mary Ellen in some yoga on the lawn beside the guesthouse. I needed the stretches after our strenuous morning workout. Our hostess was fascinated and took pictures. One of the positions we did was the shoulder stand. The next day at our barbeque, I showed Marina how to do the shoulder stand. It was really quite funny, as she could not get her body straightened out in the stand.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
21-7-2010
Note the decorations on the side of the barn. During dinner, we asked what they were, but we were unable to adequately describe them, so we left, drove about 5 minutes away into Jertzens, took a photo and returned to the picnic. Our hosts told us that every September when the cows come down from the high Alps, there is a festival and the townspeople make elaborate headdresses for the cows. There are various prizes awarded. The headdresses are then hung on the sides of the barns as, I guess, a trophy of sorts.
Allergy attack and seeing the valley
Wednesday, July 21, 2010 Day 21
After our strenuous workout yesterday, we were prepared to be sore, and set aside the morning for relaxing. We played games in the morning, and I had an allergy issue – I seemed to be crying in one eye; not too badly, but it persisted past noon. We had lunch, then set off to buy some groceries and to go to the post office. By this time I was crying in both eyes, and an allergy attack was in full bloom (pardon the pun). The post office was in one town, where we bought groceries, but when we inquired about an apothecary, we were told that the nearest one was in another village. We went there and located the apothecary without difficulty. I was able to buy what I needed and took a pill immediately. The attack began to subside and we continued on with our important agenda.
From the apothecary we went through picturesque towns and drove to a parking lot for a beautiful bridge over a deep ravine. Bungee jumping was available for those interested. None of our crew made the jump, but we did cross the bridge and hike up the other side for a bit. We could see rain moving in over the mountains, and since it was after 4:00, we decided that we should return to the car and our apartment. We were not interested in driving the winding roads in the rain.
Our hosts had planned a barbeque for Wednesday evening at 6:00. When we arrived home, they said that they would serve either on the porch or in the dining area, depending upon the weather. The clouds sprinkled off and on through out the barbeque, but we managed to eat on the patio. Our hosts were Andrea and Gunter. We were joined by Gunter’s parents, whose names we missed, and Gunter’s brother and sister-in-law, and their daughter Marina, who is six. She was cute – a very different personality from that of Sarah. The barbeque was good – we had sausage, chicken, potato salad, bread baked potatoes with yogurt sauce, tossed salad, bread and Almdudler (think Sprite and apple juice combined) to drink. There was Krauter butter, but the bread was already smeared with a generous amount of the same, so we were at a loss to know where to use it. At one point, one of us saw that they put it on their meat. Hmmmm. . . . Overall the meal was quite good.
One of the distressing things about the meal was that most of the attendees at the meal smoked during the meal. At least we were outside, where the wind took care of a good deal of the smoke, but more than our share drifted our way. It never occurred to htem to ask us if it bothred us or offer not to smoke while we were there.
After we were served, we were told to go ahead and eat and not wait on all of the meat to be cooked. They told us a German term which I have forgotten, which essentially means “good eating.” They asked what we say to at the outset of a meal. Wanda volunteered “Bon appetite,” then said that sometimes people say a prayer before the meal. Marina’s mother, who along with Gunter probably spoke the most English, firmly said “not here. We don’t need that”!
We ended the day as usual, playing games in the apartment.
After our strenuous workout yesterday, we were prepared to be sore, and set aside the morning for relaxing. We played games in the morning, and I had an allergy issue – I seemed to be crying in one eye; not too badly, but it persisted past noon. We had lunch, then set off to buy some groceries and to go to the post office. By this time I was crying in both eyes, and an allergy attack was in full bloom (pardon the pun). The post office was in one town, where we bought groceries, but when we inquired about an apothecary, we were told that the nearest one was in another village. We went there and located the apothecary without difficulty. I was able to buy what I needed and took a pill immediately. The attack began to subside and we continued on with our important agenda.
From the apothecary we went through picturesque towns and drove to a parking lot for a beautiful bridge over a deep ravine. Bungee jumping was available for those interested. None of our crew made the jump, but we did cross the bridge and hike up the other side for a bit. We could see rain moving in over the mountains, and since it was after 4:00, we decided that we should return to the car and our apartment. We were not interested in driving the winding roads in the rain.
Our hosts had planned a barbeque for Wednesday evening at 6:00. When we arrived home, they said that they would serve either on the porch or in the dining area, depending upon the weather. The clouds sprinkled off and on through out the barbeque, but we managed to eat on the patio. Our hosts were Andrea and Gunter. We were joined by Gunter’s parents, whose names we missed, and Gunter’s brother and sister-in-law, and their daughter Marina, who is six. She was cute – a very different personality from that of Sarah. The barbeque was good – we had sausage, chicken, potato salad, bread baked potatoes with yogurt sauce, tossed salad, bread and Almdudler (think Sprite and apple juice combined) to drink. There was Krauter butter, but the bread was already smeared with a generous amount of the same, so we were at a loss to know where to use it. At one point, one of us saw that they put it on their meat. Hmmmm. . . . Overall the meal was quite good.
One of the distressing things about the meal was that most of the attendees at the meal smoked during the meal. At least we were outside, where the wind took care of a good deal of the smoke, but more than our share drifted our way. It never occurred to htem to ask us if it bothred us or offer not to smoke while we were there.
After we were served, we were told to go ahead and eat and not wait on all of the meat to be cooked. They told us a German term which I have forgotten, which essentially means “good eating.” They asked what we say to at the outset of a meal. Wanda volunteered “Bon appetite,” then said that sometimes people say a prayer before the meal. Marina’s mother, who along with Gunter probably spoke the most English, firmly said “not here. We don’t need that”!
We ended the day as usual, playing games in the apartment.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
22-7-2010
We rode the Gletscherexpress - Glacier Express - to a ski area. We had done no preparatory reading about the express, and I think we were expecting a gondola- or funicular-type ride, either suspended above the ground or traveling along the ground. Instead, the entire 10-minute trip was spent traveling through a shaft dug into the glacier. Needless to say, it was cold in the shaft and in the express, but not intolerably so, as we were dressed for a walk on the glacier anyway.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Today we walked on a glacier
Tuesday, July 20, 2010 Day 20
Plans for the day were to leave at 9:00 for a drive to Pitztal where we would take a lift to a glacier park and ski area. From there we would join a group for a 2.5 hour excursion to see some ice caves in the glacier.
We got started off right on time. Jane drove, and our path took us along the valley floor on a narrow, winding road. We passed picturesque villages, waterfalls tumbling from great heights, soaring mountains, brisk-walking Tyroleans, clear blue skies – all breathtakingly beautiful. We arrived at the lift around 10:00, and the next train was scheduled to leave some half hour later. We bought our tickets and wandered or sat around, then the gates opened and we entered the car for the trip up the mountain. It was not at all what we expected – it was entirely underground – or under the glacier, to be exact. It was very cold. It is called the Pitz Express, and boasts that it is the fastest underground mountain train in the world. It took us to an elevation of 2,480 meters. The ice cave tour was scheduled to begin at 11:00, so we had 15-20 minutes to enjoy the spectacular view of the mountains, the glaciers, and the valleys.
We met the guide and about 40 other hikers at 11:00. He suggested to begin with that we take off our jackets and sweaters because the beginning of the hike would be quite warm. He spoke for 3-4 minutes in German, then turned to us and said, “In English – nice.” Every time he paused on the hike he would rattle off his spiel in German, then turn to us and say something similar “In English – joke” or “In English, very old” (glacial age). It was clear that his English was limited to “tourist” English, and was actually rather funny, and suited the five of us well. We didn’t mind in the least that we were not getting the history of the area. We hiked first to a granite chapel, over lots of glacial rocks and rather up-hill, and when we reached that point, he suggested that if we were too winded from this hike, we probably could not make the hike and we should turn back. We agreed to continue with the group. It was hard – quite hard. Really hard. Strenuous. Taxing. More than we expected, although I don’t really know why – the brochure said it would be a 2.5 hour hike. The brochure did not specify the difficulty level; if it had, we might not have gone. It was almost more than we could handle, but after it was over, we were glad we went, or at least most of us were. After we had been hiking about an hour, we came to a road. The guide suggested that we five and another couple take the road around to the glacier, and the rest of the group would meet us on the glacier. On the one hand, we were glad we did – the hike became much less strenuous. On the other hand, we did not get to see the main glacier caverns. Disappointing on the one hand, but on the other hand, I don’t think we could have handled the rest of the hike. We did see a couple of sink-holes that would one day likely be caverns. It was still amazing to be walking on a glacier, to see the blue below us and know we were walking on tens or even hundreds of feet of ice. It was amazing to see the glacier melting away and trickling into rushing, roaring rivers which ripped down the mountainside. Our return to the lodge, while not across glacial rock, was seriously uphill and we had to stop numerous times to catch our breath, and a couple of times to sit. By the time we reached the restaurant, it was about 1:40 and we were exhausted and hungry.
We had spaghetti with meat sauce and bread, which served to revive us considerably. Earlier on the hike, we had debated whether we would be up to the next leg of the trip, but lunch and rest refreshed us and we decided to forge on. This leg was much easier – we had to walk to a lift some 100 yards from the restaurant and board the Pitz-Panoramabahn, Austria’s highest cable car. Once on the car, we rose to an elevation of 3,440 meters to a stunning view. Actually, the view in the way up was pretty spectacular, but it was nothing compared to getting to the top. Once we disembarked from the car, we climbed another 20 meters or so to an observation platform which was so striking and dramatic that there are no words to adequately describe it. We had a 360-degree view of mountains and valleys, glaciers and rivers, glacial lakes and more glaciers. Truly breathtaking in more ways than one. The view was magnificent enough to take one’s breath away. Further, the thin mountain air made it difficult to breathe. The observation platform was small and crowded, so we enjoyed the view for a bit and headed back down to take the next car down. Absolutely amazing!
Here’s an interesting side note. A few years, Wanda gave each of us sisters a silver pin which depicts five women, which we refer to as our Sisters Pins. We wear the pins when we know we will be getting together, particularly at our Sisters Reunions. Today when we were almost through with our glacier hike, Charlotte announced that she was “no longer a member of the family” because she had lost her Sisters Pin. She wasn’t really sure where, but somewhere on our hike, either in the rocks or on the glacier. Unfortunate, but none of us was volunteering to go back and look! An hour or so later, when we were about to board the Pitz-Panoramabahn, a man approached us, excused himself, held out the pin and said he suspected that it belonged to one of us! How amazing! Amazing, first, that it fell in a place where someone found it soon afterward. Amazing as well that he and his family could determine to whom it likely belonged, although they had been among the 40 or so hikers in our group. Even more amazing that we had not left the area, as we had thought about just going back down to the car after lunch rather than heading on up.
We returned to the apartment around 5:00 and rested and relaxed a bit. We prepared a supper of pasta with pesto, bread, cheese, cantaloupe, salad and mango. Roger and I had made an appointment to Google chat at 7:00. At 6:45, we were just about to sit down to supper, so I sent him an email and a chat suggesting that we postpone the chat to 7:15, and logged on shortly after that. In relating his experiences today, he said that, at the market today he bought ham, and they didn't have any problem understanding what it was he wanted but they couldn't understand how much. A woman next to him asked him in English what he wanted and relayed the order. He said that what she said sounded to him just what he had been saying! He also said that he must have looked pretty French today, as someone asked him for directions. He said he panicked and said “You’re asking the wrong person,” instead of saying “je ne sais pas.”
The rest of the evening was filled, as usual, with games and chatter and lots of laughter, with the added bonus of yoga on the lawn led by yours truly. I really wanted to stretch after having put some of my muscles through a workout like they had not had in years.
Plans for the day were to leave at 9:00 for a drive to Pitztal where we would take a lift to a glacier park and ski area. From there we would join a group for a 2.5 hour excursion to see some ice caves in the glacier.
We got started off right on time. Jane drove, and our path took us along the valley floor on a narrow, winding road. We passed picturesque villages, waterfalls tumbling from great heights, soaring mountains, brisk-walking Tyroleans, clear blue skies – all breathtakingly beautiful. We arrived at the lift around 10:00, and the next train was scheduled to leave some half hour later. We bought our tickets and wandered or sat around, then the gates opened and we entered the car for the trip up the mountain. It was not at all what we expected – it was entirely underground – or under the glacier, to be exact. It was very cold. It is called the Pitz Express, and boasts that it is the fastest underground mountain train in the world. It took us to an elevation of 2,480 meters. The ice cave tour was scheduled to begin at 11:00, so we had 15-20 minutes to enjoy the spectacular view of the mountains, the glaciers, and the valleys.
We met the guide and about 40 other hikers at 11:00. He suggested to begin with that we take off our jackets and sweaters because the beginning of the hike would be quite warm. He spoke for 3-4 minutes in German, then turned to us and said, “In English – nice.” Every time he paused on the hike he would rattle off his spiel in German, then turn to us and say something similar “In English – joke” or “In English, very old” (glacial age). It was clear that his English was limited to “tourist” English, and was actually rather funny, and suited the five of us well. We didn’t mind in the least that we were not getting the history of the area. We hiked first to a granite chapel, over lots of glacial rocks and rather up-hill, and when we reached that point, he suggested that if we were too winded from this hike, we probably could not make the hike and we should turn back. We agreed to continue with the group. It was hard – quite hard. Really hard. Strenuous. Taxing. More than we expected, although I don’t really know why – the brochure said it would be a 2.5 hour hike. The brochure did not specify the difficulty level; if it had, we might not have gone. It was almost more than we could handle, but after it was over, we were glad we went, or at least most of us were. After we had been hiking about an hour, we came to a road. The guide suggested that we five and another couple take the road around to the glacier, and the rest of the group would meet us on the glacier. On the one hand, we were glad we did – the hike became much less strenuous. On the other hand, we did not get to see the main glacier caverns. Disappointing on the one hand, but on the other hand, I don’t think we could have handled the rest of the hike. We did see a couple of sink-holes that would one day likely be caverns. It was still amazing to be walking on a glacier, to see the blue below us and know we were walking on tens or even hundreds of feet of ice. It was amazing to see the glacier melting away and trickling into rushing, roaring rivers which ripped down the mountainside. Our return to the lodge, while not across glacial rock, was seriously uphill and we had to stop numerous times to catch our breath, and a couple of times to sit. By the time we reached the restaurant, it was about 1:40 and we were exhausted and hungry.
We had spaghetti with meat sauce and bread, which served to revive us considerably. Earlier on the hike, we had debated whether we would be up to the next leg of the trip, but lunch and rest refreshed us and we decided to forge on. This leg was much easier – we had to walk to a lift some 100 yards from the restaurant and board the Pitz-Panoramabahn, Austria’s highest cable car. Once on the car, we rose to an elevation of 3,440 meters to a stunning view. Actually, the view in the way up was pretty spectacular, but it was nothing compared to getting to the top. Once we disembarked from the car, we climbed another 20 meters or so to an observation platform which was so striking and dramatic that there are no words to adequately describe it. We had a 360-degree view of mountains and valleys, glaciers and rivers, glacial lakes and more glaciers. Truly breathtaking in more ways than one. The view was magnificent enough to take one’s breath away. Further, the thin mountain air made it difficult to breathe. The observation platform was small and crowded, so we enjoyed the view for a bit and headed back down to take the next car down. Absolutely amazing!
Here’s an interesting side note. A few years, Wanda gave each of us sisters a silver pin which depicts five women, which we refer to as our Sisters Pins. We wear the pins when we know we will be getting together, particularly at our Sisters Reunions. Today when we were almost through with our glacier hike, Charlotte announced that she was “no longer a member of the family” because she had lost her Sisters Pin. She wasn’t really sure where, but somewhere on our hike, either in the rocks or on the glacier. Unfortunate, but none of us was volunteering to go back and look! An hour or so later, when we were about to board the Pitz-Panoramabahn, a man approached us, excused himself, held out the pin and said he suspected that it belonged to one of us! How amazing! Amazing, first, that it fell in a place where someone found it soon afterward. Amazing as well that he and his family could determine to whom it likely belonged, although they had been among the 40 or so hikers in our group. Even more amazing that we had not left the area, as we had thought about just going back down to the car after lunch rather than heading on up.
We returned to the apartment around 5:00 and rested and relaxed a bit. We prepared a supper of pasta with pesto, bread, cheese, cantaloupe, salad and mango. Roger and I had made an appointment to Google chat at 7:00. At 6:45, we were just about to sit down to supper, so I sent him an email and a chat suggesting that we postpone the chat to 7:15, and logged on shortly after that. In relating his experiences today, he said that, at the market today he bought ham, and they didn't have any problem understanding what it was he wanted but they couldn't understand how much. A woman next to him asked him in English what he wanted and relayed the order. He said that what she said sounded to him just what he had been saying! He also said that he must have looked pretty French today, as someone asked him for directions. He said he panicked and said “You’re asking the wrong person,” instead of saying “je ne sais pas.”
The rest of the evening was filled, as usual, with games and chatter and lots of laughter, with the added bonus of yoga on the lawn led by yours truly. I really wanted to stretch after having put some of my muscles through a workout like they had not had in years.
Exploring Austria
Monday, July 19, 2010 Day 19
First things first – Happy Birthday, Christa!
We are staying just outside Imsk, which is a small town about an hour from Innsbruck. I hadn’t thought about what Innsbruck means, but we drove along a river called the Inn, and Charlotte pointed out that Innsbruck means Inn brook. We got up this morning in time to have the guesthouse breakfast at 8:00. There was an abundance of ham, prosciutto, cheese, more cheese, paté, four or five different kinds of bread, cereals, fruit, yogurt, coffee, tea, and juice. Really good breakfast, but too much food at too high a price for us to eat that every morning.
Charlotte had been sick in Vienna and was still not feeling on the road to recovery. After breakfast, she consulted with Gunther, our host, regarding the location of medical attention, and we left for the nearby village of Jerzens to locate the doctor. The village is quite small – the central commercial district is about two blocks long. We located the doctor without difficulty and left Charlotte there. I forgot to bring water and needed some, so we went to the grocery store where I got 6 bottles for 1€ – a pretty good rate even if I didn’t feel that I needed all six bottles. We had a list, but chose not to buy groceries yet because we needed some perishables and were not prepared yet to go back to the guesthouse. We hiked around the village a bit then sat down near a fountain to talk and enjoy the scenery. Charlotte called to say that she would probably be another hour, so we opted to drive up to the ski lift area which was five kilometers away. It took some time – with all the hairpin turns it was probably 10-15 minutes away. At the ski area we checked out the ski lift essentials and sat in the sun for a while to warm ourselves. It was brisk, and in the shade rather cool, and the sunlight was quite welcome. We were preparing to leave the area when Charlotte called to say that she was through at the doctor’s and ready to be picked up. We collected her and she, Jane and I went to the grocery store with our list and bought some of the cooking essentials such as butter, milk, bread, paper towels, some chicken, coffee, tea, salad makings and a few other things. We returned to the apartment for a lunch of salad, bread, mangoes and cantaloupe. Delicious!
In the afternoon we played a round of Creights, then went for a hike up the side of the mountain from our apartment. We had Charlotte’s wonderful pesto with chicken and pasta for supper – yum! She made it in Vienna and brought it along for us to enjoy on the trip. Thanks, Charlotte! We ended the evening with more talking, card-playing and a (relatively) early bedtime, as our plans for tomorrow call for us to get up and get moving.
First things first – Happy Birthday, Christa!
We are staying just outside Imsk, which is a small town about an hour from Innsbruck. I hadn’t thought about what Innsbruck means, but we drove along a river called the Inn, and Charlotte pointed out that Innsbruck means Inn brook. We got up this morning in time to have the guesthouse breakfast at 8:00. There was an abundance of ham, prosciutto, cheese, more cheese, paté, four or five different kinds of bread, cereals, fruit, yogurt, coffee, tea, and juice. Really good breakfast, but too much food at too high a price for us to eat that every morning.
Charlotte had been sick in Vienna and was still not feeling on the road to recovery. After breakfast, she consulted with Gunther, our host, regarding the location of medical attention, and we left for the nearby village of Jerzens to locate the doctor. The village is quite small – the central commercial district is about two blocks long. We located the doctor without difficulty and left Charlotte there. I forgot to bring water and needed some, so we went to the grocery store where I got 6 bottles for 1€ – a pretty good rate even if I didn’t feel that I needed all six bottles. We had a list, but chose not to buy groceries yet because we needed some perishables and were not prepared yet to go back to the guesthouse. We hiked around the village a bit then sat down near a fountain to talk and enjoy the scenery. Charlotte called to say that she would probably be another hour, so we opted to drive up to the ski lift area which was five kilometers away. It took some time – with all the hairpin turns it was probably 10-15 minutes away. At the ski area we checked out the ski lift essentials and sat in the sun for a while to warm ourselves. It was brisk, and in the shade rather cool, and the sunlight was quite welcome. We were preparing to leave the area when Charlotte called to say that she was through at the doctor’s and ready to be picked up. We collected her and she, Jane and I went to the grocery store with our list and bought some of the cooking essentials such as butter, milk, bread, paper towels, some chicken, coffee, tea, salad makings and a few other things. We returned to the apartment for a lunch of salad, bread, mangoes and cantaloupe. Delicious!
In the afternoon we played a round of Creights, then went for a hike up the side of the mountain from our apartment. We had Charlotte’s wonderful pesto with chicken and pasta for supper – yum! She made it in Vienna and brought it along for us to enjoy on the trip. Thanks, Charlotte! We ended the evening with more talking, card-playing and a (relatively) early bedtime, as our plans for tomorrow call for us to get up and get moving.
Monday, July 19, 2010
19-7-2010
Today we walked around the village of Jerzens, which is a mile or two from our accommodations. There is a grocery store, lovely church, fountain, doctor, optician, several more guesthouses and a couple of hotels, and we stopped to get a kitten fix. We drove up to the base of a ski lift some 15 minutes above the village, but did not go onto the ski lift - we are saving that for tomorrow. Later we hiked near our apartment and saw hay barns and waved to a couple of local loggers. The scenery here is just delightful.
18-7-2010
We had supper at a restaurant in Innsbruck before heading on up to Imsk and our accommodations. Since I had been sitting in the restaurant for more than four hours before my sisters arrived, the waitress and the manager recognized me and paused to note that we are sisters. The waitress took this lovely photo of us.
Austria
Sunday, July 18, 2010 Day 18
First panic of the day – we got up early so I could catch the local bus and get to my train. We arrived at the bus stop at the end of our street, and the bus isn’t running! Ack! It’s Sunday, and it didn’t occur to us that the buses don’t start running until something like 7:45 on Sundays. So we set out at a brisk pace for the train station. It was almost a 30-minute walk. But I had built in some extra time, and I wasn’t too worried – “too” being the operative word here. I had planned on a 10-15 minute bus ride to a corner, then a 5-minute walk after that to get to the train station, so I felt I wouldn’t be too far behind times. Fortunately, the train runs every seven minutes or so, but not every train is an “E” train, which is what I need to get to the airport. As we walked, a couple of taxis passed us and Roger suggested taking a taxi, but I vetoed it and we carried on. We arrived at the train station and I pulled out my ticket I bought last week, shot it through the slot, and – second panic of the day – it doesn’t work! Or at least, it didn’t open the gate. Damn! Fortunately, a woman behind me swiped her pass across the reader for me and that opened the gate. I really don’t know why she did it – she wasn’t coming through the gate. I am really grateful to her – I hope Roger tipped her a Euro or two. I rushed through the gate, forgetting to even give Roger a kiss, as there was a train just pulling in! I tried to read the number on the train to see if it was an “E” train, but I wasn’t able to check it, I just hopped on. I was able to verify with another English-speaking passenger that the train was airport-bound. So I settled in and started working on my third panic of the day – am I going to be able to get through the gate at the airport? I don’t want to jump the gate again!!!! Not in broad daylight. And I don’t have time for the delay! While my ticket was stamped with the proper boarding station, it hadn’t actually opened the gate at the station, and maybe, just maybe, it won’t work to open the gate at the airport. Damn! Fortunately, when we arrived at the airport and took the escalator up to the gate, it was open for all arriving passengers without a check of the ticket.
I got checked in, then grabbed a chocolate croissant as I headed for my gate. When we boarded and the flight service began, what are they serving? Chocolate croissants! So I had another one with a cup of coffee. The flight to Munich was uneventful, and I located the train station without a problem. I got my ticket to Innsbruck and boarded a train for the main Munich train station and the transfer to the intercity lines. I had a half-hour wait so I grabbed lunch before catching the train. The first 30 minutes of my train trip were spent sitting on my suitcase in the aisle along with several other passengers, but after the second stop, several seats were vacated and all of us in our car got seats; however, that did not mean that those boarding also got seats. On the train I called Charlotte to tell her that I was arriving early in Innsbruck, and she told me she hoped I brought a good book, because they hadn’t left yet and it would be at least a 4-hour drive. Upon arrival in Innsbruck, I walked around the station and located the lockers. I wanted to stow my luggage and walk around a bit since I had three or four hours to kill. But there were no lockers available. Fine, not a problem. I looked around for a good place to settle in and blog and read a book or whatever. Nothing. The train stations in Austria have almost not seating area. There are great halls, but empty of benches or chairs. There was a very small waiting room, but it seated only 12 people and was full. On the one hand, I understand the desire of the Austrian authorities to discourage homeless people from taking up residence in the stations. On the other hand, it makes it difficult for travelers who must wait in the station. Some of you may recall that I beefed about this last fall in Frankfort when we had a layover of a couple of hours and there, too, the station was almost empty of benches or chairs, except for a small waiting room which was open-air and quite cool that time of year.
I finally got a seat in the waiting room and sat down with my computer. No power source there, but I had a good deal of charge. As I sat there typing, there was a German-speaking guy who tried hitting on me. His main problem was that I wasn’t interested, and his next biggest problem was the language barrier. He finally left. Once he did, I decided I would make my escape the other direction and I headed out of the station. I went to a restaurant across the plaza from the train station and ordered a cup of tea. I was astonished – I was able to sit in the chair in that restaurant for about four and a half hours without being ousted or eyed with any sort of hostility. This must me what those weary travelers do for seating while waiting for a connection or their party to arrive. I had a first cup of tea, then two hours later I ordered some tomato soup and another cup of tea. The waitress was very kind and kept an eye on me without seeming to expect me to move on. After about three and a half hours, Charlotte called and said she hoped I wasn’t in any hurry because they were still about an hour out. So I chilled some more and was quite surprised when I looked up an hour later and Charlotte was standing there. The rest of my sisters were still in the car, and they then parked, came in and we all had dinner at the restaurant. Then we started our adventure getting to our guesthouse.
When we left Innsbruck with Jane driving, we started out by getting on the wrong road. We suddenly found ourselves headed for Italy! We were headed for a toll road, and there was no turn-around area, so we were stuck. We entered the toll booth and Charlotte took over and explained to the cashier our dilemma. Instead of charging us the full 8€ fee, she said she would charge us only 5€. We were to proceed to the next exit, turn around and, when we came to the exit toll booth, to give the receipt, which she initialed, to the cashier there. This all worked as planned, and they made a tidy sum on us for that turnaround. Once we got on the right road, it took us about an hour on the freeway, then another 20 minutes of hairpin turns to get to our destination. It was around 9:00 by the time we arrived. The guesthouse is perfect for our needs except for the stairs! We have the top floor of the guesthouse, which consists of three bedrooms, three bathrooms and a small furnished kitchen with a nice-sized dining table for the five of us.
We were travel-weary, so we settled on rooms and planned to go to bed. Instead, we gathered around the table and talked, as we are all wont to do. Such an evening!
First panic of the day – we got up early so I could catch the local bus and get to my train. We arrived at the bus stop at the end of our street, and the bus isn’t running! Ack! It’s Sunday, and it didn’t occur to us that the buses don’t start running until something like 7:45 on Sundays. So we set out at a brisk pace for the train station. It was almost a 30-minute walk. But I had built in some extra time, and I wasn’t too worried – “too” being the operative word here. I had planned on a 10-15 minute bus ride to a corner, then a 5-minute walk after that to get to the train station, so I felt I wouldn’t be too far behind times. Fortunately, the train runs every seven minutes or so, but not every train is an “E” train, which is what I need to get to the airport. As we walked, a couple of taxis passed us and Roger suggested taking a taxi, but I vetoed it and we carried on. We arrived at the train station and I pulled out my ticket I bought last week, shot it through the slot, and – second panic of the day – it doesn’t work! Or at least, it didn’t open the gate. Damn! Fortunately, a woman behind me swiped her pass across the reader for me and that opened the gate. I really don’t know why she did it – she wasn’t coming through the gate. I am really grateful to her – I hope Roger tipped her a Euro or two. I rushed through the gate, forgetting to even give Roger a kiss, as there was a train just pulling in! I tried to read the number on the train to see if it was an “E” train, but I wasn’t able to check it, I just hopped on. I was able to verify with another English-speaking passenger that the train was airport-bound. So I settled in and started working on my third panic of the day – am I going to be able to get through the gate at the airport? I don’t want to jump the gate again!!!! Not in broad daylight. And I don’t have time for the delay! While my ticket was stamped with the proper boarding station, it hadn’t actually opened the gate at the station, and maybe, just maybe, it won’t work to open the gate at the airport. Damn! Fortunately, when we arrived at the airport and took the escalator up to the gate, it was open for all arriving passengers without a check of the ticket.
I got checked in, then grabbed a chocolate croissant as I headed for my gate. When we boarded and the flight service began, what are they serving? Chocolate croissants! So I had another one with a cup of coffee. The flight to Munich was uneventful, and I located the train station without a problem. I got my ticket to Innsbruck and boarded a train for the main Munich train station and the transfer to the intercity lines. I had a half-hour wait so I grabbed lunch before catching the train. The first 30 minutes of my train trip were spent sitting on my suitcase in the aisle along with several other passengers, but after the second stop, several seats were vacated and all of us in our car got seats; however, that did not mean that those boarding also got seats. On the train I called Charlotte to tell her that I was arriving early in Innsbruck, and she told me she hoped I brought a good book, because they hadn’t left yet and it would be at least a 4-hour drive. Upon arrival in Innsbruck, I walked around the station and located the lockers. I wanted to stow my luggage and walk around a bit since I had three or four hours to kill. But there were no lockers available. Fine, not a problem. I looked around for a good place to settle in and blog and read a book or whatever. Nothing. The train stations in Austria have almost not seating area. There are great halls, but empty of benches or chairs. There was a very small waiting room, but it seated only 12 people and was full. On the one hand, I understand the desire of the Austrian authorities to discourage homeless people from taking up residence in the stations. On the other hand, it makes it difficult for travelers who must wait in the station. Some of you may recall that I beefed about this last fall in Frankfort when we had a layover of a couple of hours and there, too, the station was almost empty of benches or chairs, except for a small waiting room which was open-air and quite cool that time of year.
I finally got a seat in the waiting room and sat down with my computer. No power source there, but I had a good deal of charge. As I sat there typing, there was a German-speaking guy who tried hitting on me. His main problem was that I wasn’t interested, and his next biggest problem was the language barrier. He finally left. Once he did, I decided I would make my escape the other direction and I headed out of the station. I went to a restaurant across the plaza from the train station and ordered a cup of tea. I was astonished – I was able to sit in the chair in that restaurant for about four and a half hours without being ousted or eyed with any sort of hostility. This must me what those weary travelers do for seating while waiting for a connection or their party to arrive. I had a first cup of tea, then two hours later I ordered some tomato soup and another cup of tea. The waitress was very kind and kept an eye on me without seeming to expect me to move on. After about three and a half hours, Charlotte called and said she hoped I wasn’t in any hurry because they were still about an hour out. So I chilled some more and was quite surprised when I looked up an hour later and Charlotte was standing there. The rest of my sisters were still in the car, and they then parked, came in and we all had dinner at the restaurant. Then we started our adventure getting to our guesthouse.
When we left Innsbruck with Jane driving, we started out by getting on the wrong road. We suddenly found ourselves headed for Italy! We were headed for a toll road, and there was no turn-around area, so we were stuck. We entered the toll booth and Charlotte took over and explained to the cashier our dilemma. Instead of charging us the full 8€ fee, she said she would charge us only 5€. We were to proceed to the next exit, turn around and, when we came to the exit toll booth, to give the receipt, which she initialed, to the cashier there. This all worked as planned, and they made a tidy sum on us for that turnaround. Once we got on the right road, it took us about an hour on the freeway, then another 20 minutes of hairpin turns to get to our destination. It was around 9:00 by the time we arrived. The guesthouse is perfect for our needs except for the stairs! We have the top floor of the guesthouse, which consists of three bedrooms, three bathrooms and a small furnished kitchen with a nice-sized dining table for the five of us.
We were travel-weary, so we settled on rooms and planned to go to bed. Instead, we gathered around the table and talked, as we are all wont to do. Such an evening!
Lazy Day
Saturday, July 17, 2010 Day 17
This morning was clean-the-apartment time. We split the work and had it done in about an hour, although I chose to clean the shower stall, which took an extra 15 minutes or so. It is smaller than a phone booth, for those of you old enough to relate. This is also laundry day and hair-washing day, as I am leaving for Innsbruck early tomorrow morning. I think I have tamed my fears about this trip, but there is still some level of anxiety hanging on. It will be good to get there and see my sisters. We always have a wonderful time.
It was a very lazy day, with no picture of the day and not much to write about. We did go out and buy 70€ (!) worth of fruit for my trip – mangoes, apricots, melons, cherries. Yum! Now, if I can just transport them to Austria without bruising them terribly and without having the melons break in my luggage.
We had a late dinner at a restaurant barely 100 yards from our apartment – didn’t even leave until after 8:00. I had fois gras and talked Roger into trying some. He agreed that it wasn’t too bad. It was actually very mild, and it was really rather like eating butter on bread. Just lots of fat! Roger had a shrimp appetizer (that which the French call an entrée). I had fish with mashed potatoes and zucchini for my main course (plat), and Roger had crispy lamb. It turned out that the lamb was covered with a crepe which was crisp, thus the “crispy” part. The lamb was underneath and it was more like chunks of lamb. It was good. We skipped dessert, as we had a pineapple in the refrigerator which we had to eat.
Once we returned home around 10:00, I began packing, then we set two alarms and went to bed.
This morning was clean-the-apartment time. We split the work and had it done in about an hour, although I chose to clean the shower stall, which took an extra 15 minutes or so. It is smaller than a phone booth, for those of you old enough to relate. This is also laundry day and hair-washing day, as I am leaving for Innsbruck early tomorrow morning. I think I have tamed my fears about this trip, but there is still some level of anxiety hanging on. It will be good to get there and see my sisters. We always have a wonderful time.
It was a very lazy day, with no picture of the day and not much to write about. We did go out and buy 70€ (!) worth of fruit for my trip – mangoes, apricots, melons, cherries. Yum! Now, if I can just transport them to Austria without bruising them terribly and without having the melons break in my luggage.
We had a late dinner at a restaurant barely 100 yards from our apartment – didn’t even leave until after 8:00. I had fois gras and talked Roger into trying some. He agreed that it wasn’t too bad. It was actually very mild, and it was really rather like eating butter on bread. Just lots of fat! Roger had a shrimp appetizer (that which the French call an entrée). I had fish with mashed potatoes and zucchini for my main course (plat), and Roger had crispy lamb. It turned out that the lamb was covered with a crepe which was crisp, thus the “crispy” part. The lamb was underneath and it was more like chunks of lamb. It was good. We skipped dessert, as we had a pineapple in the refrigerator which we had to eat.
Once we returned home around 10:00, I began packing, then we set two alarms and went to bed.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Day Trip - Chartres
Friday, July 16, 2010 Day 16
I am cathedraled out. This morning we walked to the Gare Montparnasse and caught a train to Chartres, about 60 miles south of Paris. It is famous for its cathedral, which is considered one of the finest examples in all of France of the Gothic style of architecture. The cathedral has lots and lots and lots of stained glass, but much of it is so high up that it is hard to appreciate and harder to take a picture of. Perhaps because I am not Roman Catholic – indeed, I am not religious at all (one might even say anti-religious) – but I found much of the cathedral tedious. It is impressive in its size, particularly given the age in which it was build. However, I have very little understanding of cathedral construction and composition, and thus little appreciation of it. I was impressed with the restoration which is ongoing presently and will take a total of six years to complete. There are portions which are restored already, and they are wonderfully white against the smoky gray-black of literally centuries of grime. I suppose that six years every couple of hundred or so isn’t too bad!
After exploring the cathedral, we left and walked along a tourist circuit which has been mapped out to show some of the charm of Chartres outside the cathedral. We made a mistake and misread the weather for today. We thought it would be warm and sunny and in the 80s. Instead it was cool, cloudy and in the lower 70s. I wore short sleeves, capris and sandals and did not bring a jacket. Roger also had short sleeves, but he was in shoes and socks and blue jeans. We were rather cool the whole day, but fortunately not really cold. It began to rain just a bit in the last hour before we left, but that didn’t last long. We ducked into a brasserie for tea and a crepe with Nutella while the rain abated. Such a sacrifice! We dozed on the train ride back to Paris, then walked home. Nice day, good outing except for the temperature, and even that wasn’t too bad.
I must say that the Europeans have this train thing down pat, and traveling by train is the way to go, particularly for day trips. For 14€ each, or less than $20 each, we hopped aboard a train which left on time, arrived on time, offered a great level of comfort and was totally carefree. When we arrived at Chartres, the cathedral, was within easy walking distance. There were trains leaving about every half hour, and the same for the return. I think that this is true for most of France – the train stations are located central to the middle of town and to the most popular tourist attractions. In the larger cities, of course, a tourist may need to rely on buses, trams, subways or other trains, but for the smaller towns, everything is right there. Roger is already planning our next day trip - this one to Versailles. It will have to wait until I return from Austria, however. I leave early tomorrow morning. Don't know when I will have an opportunity to post.
Another day, another follower. Hello, Patty! How is Berlin? I am sure that you, more than most of my followers, will understand my settling-into-Europe frustrations. Keep in touch!
It is nice to see that BP may have the oil gush in the Gulf taken care of. It’s even nicer to not to even hear or read what is going on in the good old U.S. of A. I don’t see the national news, I don’t see the politics, I don’t see the glitterati news (ugh!), I don’t see sports news, I don’t read or hear about television, movies, or any of it unless I choose to. Roger seems to keep up pretty regularly with the Yahoo news, but mostly I don’t bother. Even he is selective about what he reads. I do not miss the ubiquitous presence of television which smothers the U.S. Television in every restaurant, television in every bar, television in bank waiting areas, television in the doctor’s waiting room, television EVERYWHERE!!!!! Don’t get me started! Thankfully we are in our own insular world here, as we don’t get much French news either unless we seek it out. I do miss NPR though. But not much – not enough to seek it out. I am really, really, REALLY sorry for those whose lives have been affected by the Gulf oil gush, but it depressed me considerably to hear the news of it over and over again before we left Louisiana. I have been off depression medication for over a year and I’m doing really great most of the time, but I don’t need a reversal here.
I am cathedraled out. This morning we walked to the Gare Montparnasse and caught a train to Chartres, about 60 miles south of Paris. It is famous for its cathedral, which is considered one of the finest examples in all of France of the Gothic style of architecture. The cathedral has lots and lots and lots of stained glass, but much of it is so high up that it is hard to appreciate and harder to take a picture of. Perhaps because I am not Roman Catholic – indeed, I am not religious at all (one might even say anti-religious) – but I found much of the cathedral tedious. It is impressive in its size, particularly given the age in which it was build. However, I have very little understanding of cathedral construction and composition, and thus little appreciation of it. I was impressed with the restoration which is ongoing presently and will take a total of six years to complete. There are portions which are restored already, and they are wonderfully white against the smoky gray-black of literally centuries of grime. I suppose that six years every couple of hundred or so isn’t too bad!
After exploring the cathedral, we left and walked along a tourist circuit which has been mapped out to show some of the charm of Chartres outside the cathedral. We made a mistake and misread the weather for today. We thought it would be warm and sunny and in the 80s. Instead it was cool, cloudy and in the lower 70s. I wore short sleeves, capris and sandals and did not bring a jacket. Roger also had short sleeves, but he was in shoes and socks and blue jeans. We were rather cool the whole day, but fortunately not really cold. It began to rain just a bit in the last hour before we left, but that didn’t last long. We ducked into a brasserie for tea and a crepe with Nutella while the rain abated. Such a sacrifice! We dozed on the train ride back to Paris, then walked home. Nice day, good outing except for the temperature, and even that wasn’t too bad.
I must say that the Europeans have this train thing down pat, and traveling by train is the way to go, particularly for day trips. For 14€ each, or less than $20 each, we hopped aboard a train which left on time, arrived on time, offered a great level of comfort and was totally carefree. When we arrived at Chartres, the cathedral, was within easy walking distance. There were trains leaving about every half hour, and the same for the return. I think that this is true for most of France – the train stations are located central to the middle of town and to the most popular tourist attractions. In the larger cities, of course, a tourist may need to rely on buses, trams, subways or other trains, but for the smaller towns, everything is right there. Roger is already planning our next day trip - this one to Versailles. It will have to wait until I return from Austria, however. I leave early tomorrow morning. Don't know when I will have an opportunity to post.
Another day, another follower. Hello, Patty! How is Berlin? I am sure that you, more than most of my followers, will understand my settling-into-Europe frustrations. Keep in touch!
It is nice to see that BP may have the oil gush in the Gulf taken care of. It’s even nicer to not to even hear or read what is going on in the good old U.S. of A. I don’t see the national news, I don’t see the politics, I don’t see the glitterati news (ugh!), I don’t see sports news, I don’t read or hear about television, movies, or any of it unless I choose to. Roger seems to keep up pretty regularly with the Yahoo news, but mostly I don’t bother. Even he is selective about what he reads. I do not miss the ubiquitous presence of television which smothers the U.S. Television in every restaurant, television in every bar, television in bank waiting areas, television in the doctor’s waiting room, television EVERYWHERE!!!!! Don’t get me started! Thankfully we are in our own insular world here, as we don’t get much French news either unless we seek it out. I do miss NPR though. But not much – not enough to seek it out. I am really, really, REALLY sorry for those whose lives have been affected by the Gulf oil gush, but it depressed me considerably to hear the news of it over and over again before we left Louisiana. I have been off depression medication for over a year and I’m doing really great most of the time, but I don’t need a reversal here.
Friday, July 16, 2010
16-7-2010
This was a tiny area set aside in Chartres for one's dog to lift his leg. It was quite small - about 20 feet long by 10 feet wide - not really a dog park as there was insufficient room for a dog to run. Just enough space to poop! I do wish Paris would invest in a few of these. There are precious few places for dogs to do their business, so they just do it on the sidewalks.
16-7-2010
We ate lunch at a restaurant across from the cathedral in Chartres. Roger had a hamburger and I had a spinach and goat cheese quiche. Delicious! Afterward we had dessert, and mine was as delicious as it was picturesque.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
15-7-2010
This fountain is simply a huge coin-like disc some 100 feet across, covered with a sheet of water. It appears that the water is pouring from the uppermost portion of the disc, in defiance of the laws of nature. In actuality, the water holes are very near the edge and the water flows onto it with enough force that some of the water flows off the near side of the disc. The rest of the water flows across the surface of the disc and drains on the downward side. Sort of Escher-esque in some sense.
15-7-2010
This horse, along with a number of other sculptures, is in the courtyard of the Bourdelle Museum, visible from the street. Bourdelle was a student of Rodin. We did not go to the museum, but merely passed by it in the street. We will return there in the future. It is only a 10-minute walk from our house, and I read that it is almost never crowded although the sculptures are said to be really good. I guess Rodin gets all the press.
Gouda, lovely gouda
Thursday, July 15, 2010 Day 15
Roger pointed out that our stay in Paris is one quarter over. We went to the market this morning. Thursdays must be clothing day, or clothing and miscellaneous non-food day. At least half of the food vendors were missing, and in their place lots of clothing, plus other interesting vendors. There’s the guy who has cutting boards, trivets and lots of other interesting items made out of wood. There’s the spice guy, who may be the only one in the whole market. We checked him out for cream of tartar, but since I forgot to look up the translation before we left, I couldn’t ask him about it. We did look at everything white that he had, and none of it was cream of tartar. There’s a furniture guy selling what looked like really good quality furniture. There was a vendor selling all sorts of kitchen miscellany, including pot scrubbers, potato peelers, cooking spoons, other utensils, batteries and plastic novelties. There was a guy selling stainless steel cookware. There is always someone at a stall selling “Ron Popeil” items. This morning it was a woman selling multi-bladed scissors, nifty for cutting up herbs. I don’t know what else she was touting them for – we didn’t stick around. Last week there was the guy selling a set of tools for cutting decorative vegetables and fruit. There have been a couple of others as well, but I can’t recall what they were pushing.
We bought gouda. Boy, did we buy gouda. We went into a fromagerie to buy some cheese, and Roger, conservative tongue that he has, decided on some natural gouda (there was some flavored with basil as well). Cheese is sold by the gram or kilogram (if you want that much), so I asked him how much. He wasn’t prepared for the question, and we had just been buying fruits and veggies, so he just answered 500 grams without really considering. The clerk weighed the slab she had, eyeballed 500 grams, then weight what she had cut. It turned out to be 580 grams (1.2 pounds), and she asked if that was okay. I agreed and she wrapped it up. This is the usual procedure in a shop or at a market stall – when we are buying something and ask for a certain amount of a larger item, they cut some off, weight it and ask if that is sufficient. This morning we bought some ribs, and asked for a kilo. The slab turned out to weight 895 grams, somewhat less than the kilo we had asked for. The attendant asked if that was sufficient or if we wanted exactly a kilo. We took what she had. Two pounds of ribs is enough for the two of us. But, back to the gouda, we now have about twice as much cheese as we usually buy – in Louisiana we generally bought 8-ounce packages of cheese. I decided to make potatoes au gratin to go with the ribs. We also bought two petite pineapples – they were 2 for 2€.
We went to the grocery store for milk and some cream for the potatoes, and Roger wanted to get a marinade for the ribs. He couldn’t find anything suitable, and I told him I could make a marinade if he wanted me to. He agreed, and we picked up some capers and something from Peru which was an orange/lime marmalade-type thingy. There were two flavors of the marmalade stuff, the other being mango/passion fruit/pineapple. I gave him a choice of marinade flavored with either of those or with cranberry sauce, which I found on a shelf around the corner. We came home and began concocting the marinade and the potatoes. Roger peeled and sliced potatoes while I mixed olive oil and cider vinegar, salt, pepper, some capers and some of the marmalade stuff. I threw in some Moroccan seasoning from the spices on hand, along with some basil and oregano. I tasted at this point and it needed more marmalade stuff. I ended up adding half the bottle, although it was a small one, only 24 grams, or about six ounces, I think. When I finished concocting the marinade, I was impressed with myself – it tasted really, really good. I may not be able to figure out a French cell phone but I am one hell of a cook! I also put together the potatoes au gratin using a good deal of the gouda cheese and some cream. Yum! When we got home from our walk, we cooked both the potatoes and the ribs at the same time. When they had been cooking for half an hour, we added carrots which Roger had kindly peeled and sliced to the bottom of the rib baking pan and cooked everything another half an hour. At that time, we checked the carrots and they were not done, so we cooked the ribs and carrots another 10 minutes, but declared the potatoes done. When the timer rang again, we took out the ribs, removed the carrots from the pan and tossed them in the microwave for another minute or so. In the meantime, I deglazed the dregs in the pan with some sake and boiled the results down to about half, producing a wonderful sauce. The potatoes were delicious, too. They ought to be, with half a pound of gouda and almost a cup of cream! And look at me! I’m cooking with sake and capers! I can tell I have been reading Julie Powell’s blog too much when I start writing about how I cooked things!
This afternoon I spent a good half an hour trying to translate our cell phone agreement in the hopes that we could just return the phone and forget all about it. No such luck. So we trooped to Orange and had the clerk there undo whatever it is we did wrong and give us back our internet. Sigh. I have left most of the phone dealings to Roger so far, but I guess it is time for me to plunge in as well. I am bitterly disappointed that this phone, which I thought would be our friend, helper and constant companion on the streets, is next to useless for us. We can’t understand it, and we keep getting ourselves into situations where we can’t even use it and we have to go back to Orange to get them to straighten it out. When I think of it too much, I get so upset I am in tears. So I try not to think about it, but that means I am not trying to learn it. Sigh.
The weather was beautiful here today – the morning (by the time I got up) was in the 60s, and I don’t think it ever got up to 80. After our trek to Orange, we headed up to Gare Montparnasse to check out a fountain we saw briefly yesterday on our way to the parade. It is a huge disc in the center of a traffic circle which is slightly tilted, and its location and the tilt make it appear that water is running up the incline and running off. Then we went into a shopping center which consists almost entirely of clothing stores, but there was an Orange in there and we went in to check if they have a hard case for our phone, but no luck. The clerk there suggested that we try FNAC, which appears to be France’s version of Best Buy. No luck there either. Sigh.
Roger pointed out that our stay in Paris is one quarter over. We went to the market this morning. Thursdays must be clothing day, or clothing and miscellaneous non-food day. At least half of the food vendors were missing, and in their place lots of clothing, plus other interesting vendors. There’s the guy who has cutting boards, trivets and lots of other interesting items made out of wood. There’s the spice guy, who may be the only one in the whole market. We checked him out for cream of tartar, but since I forgot to look up the translation before we left, I couldn’t ask him about it. We did look at everything white that he had, and none of it was cream of tartar. There’s a furniture guy selling what looked like really good quality furniture. There was a vendor selling all sorts of kitchen miscellany, including pot scrubbers, potato peelers, cooking spoons, other utensils, batteries and plastic novelties. There was a guy selling stainless steel cookware. There is always someone at a stall selling “Ron Popeil” items. This morning it was a woman selling multi-bladed scissors, nifty for cutting up herbs. I don’t know what else she was touting them for – we didn’t stick around. Last week there was the guy selling a set of tools for cutting decorative vegetables and fruit. There have been a couple of others as well, but I can’t recall what they were pushing.
We bought gouda. Boy, did we buy gouda. We went into a fromagerie to buy some cheese, and Roger, conservative tongue that he has, decided on some natural gouda (there was some flavored with basil as well). Cheese is sold by the gram or kilogram (if you want that much), so I asked him how much. He wasn’t prepared for the question, and we had just been buying fruits and veggies, so he just answered 500 grams without really considering. The clerk weighed the slab she had, eyeballed 500 grams, then weight what she had cut. It turned out to be 580 grams (1.2 pounds), and she asked if that was okay. I agreed and she wrapped it up. This is the usual procedure in a shop or at a market stall – when we are buying something and ask for a certain amount of a larger item, they cut some off, weight it and ask if that is sufficient. This morning we bought some ribs, and asked for a kilo. The slab turned out to weight 895 grams, somewhat less than the kilo we had asked for. The attendant asked if that was sufficient or if we wanted exactly a kilo. We took what she had. Two pounds of ribs is enough for the two of us. But, back to the gouda, we now have about twice as much cheese as we usually buy – in Louisiana we generally bought 8-ounce packages of cheese. I decided to make potatoes au gratin to go with the ribs. We also bought two petite pineapples – they were 2 for 2€.
We went to the grocery store for milk and some cream for the potatoes, and Roger wanted to get a marinade for the ribs. He couldn’t find anything suitable, and I told him I could make a marinade if he wanted me to. He agreed, and we picked up some capers and something from Peru which was an orange/lime marmalade-type thingy. There were two flavors of the marmalade stuff, the other being mango/passion fruit/pineapple. I gave him a choice of marinade flavored with either of those or with cranberry sauce, which I found on a shelf around the corner. We came home and began concocting the marinade and the potatoes. Roger peeled and sliced potatoes while I mixed olive oil and cider vinegar, salt, pepper, some capers and some of the marmalade stuff. I threw in some Moroccan seasoning from the spices on hand, along with some basil and oregano. I tasted at this point and it needed more marmalade stuff. I ended up adding half the bottle, although it was a small one, only 24 grams, or about six ounces, I think. When I finished concocting the marinade, I was impressed with myself – it tasted really, really good. I may not be able to figure out a French cell phone but I am one hell of a cook! I also put together the potatoes au gratin using a good deal of the gouda cheese and some cream. Yum! When we got home from our walk, we cooked both the potatoes and the ribs at the same time. When they had been cooking for half an hour, we added carrots which Roger had kindly peeled and sliced to the bottom of the rib baking pan and cooked everything another half an hour. At that time, we checked the carrots and they were not done, so we cooked the ribs and carrots another 10 minutes, but declared the potatoes done. When the timer rang again, we took out the ribs, removed the carrots from the pan and tossed them in the microwave for another minute or so. In the meantime, I deglazed the dregs in the pan with some sake and boiled the results down to about half, producing a wonderful sauce. The potatoes were delicious, too. They ought to be, with half a pound of gouda and almost a cup of cream! And look at me! I’m cooking with sake and capers! I can tell I have been reading Julie Powell’s blog too much when I start writing about how I cooked things!
This afternoon I spent a good half an hour trying to translate our cell phone agreement in the hopes that we could just return the phone and forget all about it. No such luck. So we trooped to Orange and had the clerk there undo whatever it is we did wrong and give us back our internet. Sigh. I have left most of the phone dealings to Roger so far, but I guess it is time for me to plunge in as well. I am bitterly disappointed that this phone, which I thought would be our friend, helper and constant companion on the streets, is next to useless for us. We can’t understand it, and we keep getting ourselves into situations where we can’t even use it and we have to go back to Orange to get them to straighten it out. When I think of it too much, I get so upset I am in tears. So I try not to think about it, but that means I am not trying to learn it. Sigh.
The weather was beautiful here today – the morning (by the time I got up) was in the 60s, and I don’t think it ever got up to 80. After our trek to Orange, we headed up to Gare Montparnasse to check out a fountain we saw briefly yesterday on our way to the parade. It is a huge disc in the center of a traffic circle which is slightly tilted, and its location and the tilt make it appear that water is running up the incline and running off. Then we went into a shopping center which consists almost entirely of clothing stores, but there was an Orange in there and we went in to check if they have a hard case for our phone, but no luck. The clerk there suggested that we try FNAC, which appears to be France’s version of Best Buy. No luck there either. Sigh.
The Best Parade We Never Saw
Wednesday, July 14, 2010 Day 14
Happy Bastille Day! We started our celebration by eating the rest of our lovely scones. Delicious as leftovers. Then I put on my fancy Bastille Day shirt and we set out for the Champs-Elysees. The streets were strangely quite and empty – we were almost the only people out, it seemed. We took a wrong turn at a crossroads and took probably a 10-minute detour, but we got that worked out and finally got going in the right direction. As we neared Les Invalides, we began to see more and more people, all headed in the same direction as we.
Along with crowds of other people, we began to move toward the Champs-Elysees, but we never actually got there. Unfortunately, the Champs-Elysees is flanked by some parking lanes which are separated from the street by a curb. There were barriers along the curb behind which we were trapped and we could not cross, although apparently if we had gotten there early enough we might have been so privileged. So it was like watching Iris and Tucks while trapped on the sidewalk 3-deep along the uptown-bound side of the street and the crowd is already six-deep along the downtown side of the street which is the parade route. And there were no floats, only marching troops and mounted troops. We did get to see the tops of flags as they went by. The parade started with an air force fly-by. One of the first flyovers included 3 planes which released three jets each of red, white and blue smoke into the sky. Nifty! Unfortunately, there were thick stands of trees which line the street which make it difficult to see what was going on overhead.
We paused beside a phone booth and tried to decide what to do. Suddenly our immediate area became immensely popular, and we realized that it was raining, and the trees above us provided a really good canopy protecting us from the downpour. We pulled out our rain ponchos, which Roger thoughtfully packed, along with water, chocolates and cookies. We were, well, not quite as wet as those around us. We discussed the situation and decided that we would leave. Many of those along the actual parade route had apparently remembered to bring rain coats and umbrellas and they didn’t seem to be leaving in droves. Only those such as we along the periphery were giving up. As we left, we passed a sort of “de-staging” area, and we saw some of the troops march past us and get into their buses. The rain stopped for a while as we walked along toward home but started again when we were about halfway there. It stopped after five minutes and we were able to get home before the next downpour. Our jeans were sopping wet from the knees down, and Roger tore his poncho at the arm and his shirt was somewhat wet. So much for Bastille Day parades!
Here’s a shout-out to Ashley – welcome to my blog! Hope you enjoy my ramblings.
The end of Bastille Day was, for us, the success that the beginning was not. At around 9:30 we packed rain coats, water, a blanket and a plastic tablecloth into our bag and headed for the Champs de Mars, which stretches beneath and to the southeast of the Tour Eiffel. We arrived just before 10:00 and spread our piece of plastic on the ground among hundreds of other people who were doing much the same. For the next hour we sat and waited for the festivities to start as more and more people moved in. The first star did not come out until about 10:15, and about 10:30, the tower was lit with hundred of sparkly flashing white lights. Finally, about 11:00, the tower went dark and the fireworks started. Because of the crowd and my lack of height, I could only see from the first level of the tower upward, but Roger could see through the lowest arch as well. But that didn’t matter much – most of the fireworks rose higher than that first level, although a few did not. I have to say that the French really know how to do fireworks. There was a half-hour barrage of beautiful fireworks set to some wonderful French music piped out across the park. For one of the songs, many people sang along. One of the songs was an orchestral piece, and if it is not called “Firefly,” it should be. The fireworks accompanying it really looked like fireflies, drifting and darting lazily exactly like a lightening bug. At 11:30, the fireworks ended and the tower was relit. We moved with the rest of the crowd out of the park and towards home. Bedtime after midnight. Happy Bastille Day!
Happy Bastille Day! We started our celebration by eating the rest of our lovely scones. Delicious as leftovers. Then I put on my fancy Bastille Day shirt and we set out for the Champs-Elysees. The streets were strangely quite and empty – we were almost the only people out, it seemed. We took a wrong turn at a crossroads and took probably a 10-minute detour, but we got that worked out and finally got going in the right direction. As we neared Les Invalides, we began to see more and more people, all headed in the same direction as we.
Along with crowds of other people, we began to move toward the Champs-Elysees, but we never actually got there. Unfortunately, the Champs-Elysees is flanked by some parking lanes which are separated from the street by a curb. There were barriers along the curb behind which we were trapped and we could not cross, although apparently if we had gotten there early enough we might have been so privileged. So it was like watching Iris and Tucks while trapped on the sidewalk 3-deep along the uptown-bound side of the street and the crowd is already six-deep along the downtown side of the street which is the parade route. And there were no floats, only marching troops and mounted troops. We did get to see the tops of flags as they went by. The parade started with an air force fly-by. One of the first flyovers included 3 planes which released three jets each of red, white and blue smoke into the sky. Nifty! Unfortunately, there were thick stands of trees which line the street which make it difficult to see what was going on overhead.
We paused beside a phone booth and tried to decide what to do. Suddenly our immediate area became immensely popular, and we realized that it was raining, and the trees above us provided a really good canopy protecting us from the downpour. We pulled out our rain ponchos, which Roger thoughtfully packed, along with water, chocolates and cookies. We were, well, not quite as wet as those around us. We discussed the situation and decided that we would leave. Many of those along the actual parade route had apparently remembered to bring rain coats and umbrellas and they didn’t seem to be leaving in droves. Only those such as we along the periphery were giving up. As we left, we passed a sort of “de-staging” area, and we saw some of the troops march past us and get into their buses. The rain stopped for a while as we walked along toward home but started again when we were about halfway there. It stopped after five minutes and we were able to get home before the next downpour. Our jeans were sopping wet from the knees down, and Roger tore his poncho at the arm and his shirt was somewhat wet. So much for Bastille Day parades!
Here’s a shout-out to Ashley – welcome to my blog! Hope you enjoy my ramblings.
The end of Bastille Day was, for us, the success that the beginning was not. At around 9:30 we packed rain coats, water, a blanket and a plastic tablecloth into our bag and headed for the Champs de Mars, which stretches beneath and to the southeast of the Tour Eiffel. We arrived just before 10:00 and spread our piece of plastic on the ground among hundreds of other people who were doing much the same. For the next hour we sat and waited for the festivities to start as more and more people moved in. The first star did not come out until about 10:15, and about 10:30, the tower was lit with hundred of sparkly flashing white lights. Finally, about 11:00, the tower went dark and the fireworks started. Because of the crowd and my lack of height, I could only see from the first level of the tower upward, but Roger could see through the lowest arch as well. But that didn’t matter much – most of the fireworks rose higher than that first level, although a few did not. I have to say that the French really know how to do fireworks. There was a half-hour barrage of beautiful fireworks set to some wonderful French music piped out across the park. For one of the songs, many people sang along. One of the songs was an orchestral piece, and if it is not called “Firefly,” it should be. The fireworks accompanying it really looked like fireflies, drifting and darting lazily exactly like a lightening bug. At 11:30, the fireworks ended and the tower was relit. We moved with the rest of the crowd out of the park and towards home. Bedtime after midnight. Happy Bastille Day!
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
14-7-2010
Just after we crossed the Seine, we saw a contingent of cavalry coming down the street, so we paused for a photo. It appeared to be a mounted brass band, with each rider carrying a trumpet or sousaphone or other brass instrument. As the horses passed us, we noted that each horse had a checkerboard pattern shaved into the hair on its flank.
Scones
Tuesday, July 13, 2010 Day 13
This morning I made some scones using a berry I had never encountered before, and without measuring spoons, measuring cups, or baking powder, using a strange flour with whole grains in it, substituting yogurt for buttermilk, and they turned out very well – four stars on a five-star scale. I had no idea what to do with the currants I bought, as they were not tasty enough to eat raw – they begged for sugar. I found currant scone recipe which called for buttermilk, oats (which I forgot to get, so I omitted them entirely), baking soda, and baking powder, among other things. I went on-line to find out how to substitute for baking powder, and most of the suggestions involve using cream of tartar but I couldn’t find that in the store at all. I did find a couple which involved yogurt and baking soda, so I went that route. I also thought that the yogurt would be a decent substitute for the buttermilk, which I couldn’t find in the store either. I added some milk to the yogurt in order to thin it some, but apparently added too much, as I had to add a great deal of flour to dry out the dough. But the outcome was really quite good. The recipe called for me to toss the currants and some honey over high heat for a minute, then mash some of the currants. This produced sort of a thin preserves, which I made last night and stored in the refrigerator. I used about half of it in the scones, and we used some of the rest of it as a topping for the scones, along with butter. We will have scones again tomorrow for breakfast to celebrate Bastille Day. This is my first and last attempt at making currant scones (or currant anything else, for that matter). The scones were good in spite of the currants, not because of them, and I cannot imagine myself buying currants again.
We went to the market again today. I bought a red-and-white-striped shirt to pair with some blue jeans and look smartly celebratory for Bastille Day. We also bought some potatoes – small market day for us. The market was slim as well. I think many vendors took off already for tomorrow’s big holiday.
Roger went out on his own this afternoon for the first time – twice! After we covered the market this morning, I dropped into the grocery store for some of the things not available at the market, including hummus and lunch meat for Roger, and I picked up a couple of things not on the list. Then I got in the wrong checkout line. The store was unexpectedly busy and the lines were long. I was third from the cashier when a woman ahead of me ran into some sort of problem, and it took the cashier at least 10 minutes and two calls to management to get it all worked out. In the meantime, I could have checked out three times in another line! I have no idea what the problem was, so I just toughed it out. Poor Roger probably thought I got kidnapped – he stayed outside the store because he had a market bag of potatoes and other things available at the grocery store, and didn’t want them to think he was trying to shop-lift anything. I finally finished, and we went in search of a rotisserie chicken which we had decided to buy for the next two days. We went to the butcher shop around the corner from our house, but it was closed. Tired out by this time, we went home. We ate lunch and I washed my hair while Roger napped. Around 2:00 or so, Roger went out alone on a quest for chicken or something else to eat tonight and tomorrow, as I expect all the stores will be closed tomorrow. He returned empty-handed, remarking on the French custom of shops closing across the lunch/sieste hour. At about 4:00, he went out again, returning this time with chicken and a bottle of wine. He said that the wine shop clerk spoke good English.
Here’s a shout-out to Maggie – welcome to my blog. You are my first non-family follower, so you deserve extra notice.
Lazy day! Other than the shopping trips, we did not go anywhere today. I think my pedometer is broken. When we returned from our market trip, it only showed 914 steps, and that is probably a 3,000 step journey. I reset it, and later, after I had been hanging around the apartment, it only showed 82 steps. How will we know if we have earned glace if we do not know how many steps we have walked? I think I may need to replace the batteries – they are those little round ones, and I need two. I really don’t know where one buys these in Paris, but I’m sure they must be available.
I have a fear that my computer is overheating and that it is going to burn up. I had this feeling before we left LaPlace, and I opened it up and blew it out with some of that canned air. I don’t really know if that helped or not. The computer has continued to run warmer than I would like. We have an Office Depot right around the corner from us – perhaps I should run out and get some canned air. But since I am not sure that helped the first time, I am hesitant. I really didn’t use the computer for long periods much before this summer, so maybe it isn’t really running any hotter than it ever did, or than it should. I have also considered getting one of those laptop fans. Office Depot?
This morning I made some scones using a berry I had never encountered before, and without measuring spoons, measuring cups, or baking powder, using a strange flour with whole grains in it, substituting yogurt for buttermilk, and they turned out very well – four stars on a five-star scale. I had no idea what to do with the currants I bought, as they were not tasty enough to eat raw – they begged for sugar. I found currant scone recipe which called for buttermilk, oats (which I forgot to get, so I omitted them entirely), baking soda, and baking powder, among other things. I went on-line to find out how to substitute for baking powder, and most of the suggestions involve using cream of tartar but I couldn’t find that in the store at all. I did find a couple which involved yogurt and baking soda, so I went that route. I also thought that the yogurt would be a decent substitute for the buttermilk, which I couldn’t find in the store either. I added some milk to the yogurt in order to thin it some, but apparently added too much, as I had to add a great deal of flour to dry out the dough. But the outcome was really quite good. The recipe called for me to toss the currants and some honey over high heat for a minute, then mash some of the currants. This produced sort of a thin preserves, which I made last night and stored in the refrigerator. I used about half of it in the scones, and we used some of the rest of it as a topping for the scones, along with butter. We will have scones again tomorrow for breakfast to celebrate Bastille Day. This is my first and last attempt at making currant scones (or currant anything else, for that matter). The scones were good in spite of the currants, not because of them, and I cannot imagine myself buying currants again.
We went to the market again today. I bought a red-and-white-striped shirt to pair with some blue jeans and look smartly celebratory for Bastille Day. We also bought some potatoes – small market day for us. The market was slim as well. I think many vendors took off already for tomorrow’s big holiday.
Roger went out on his own this afternoon for the first time – twice! After we covered the market this morning, I dropped into the grocery store for some of the things not available at the market, including hummus and lunch meat for Roger, and I picked up a couple of things not on the list. Then I got in the wrong checkout line. The store was unexpectedly busy and the lines were long. I was third from the cashier when a woman ahead of me ran into some sort of problem, and it took the cashier at least 10 minutes and two calls to management to get it all worked out. In the meantime, I could have checked out three times in another line! I have no idea what the problem was, so I just toughed it out. Poor Roger probably thought I got kidnapped – he stayed outside the store because he had a market bag of potatoes and other things available at the grocery store, and didn’t want them to think he was trying to shop-lift anything. I finally finished, and we went in search of a rotisserie chicken which we had decided to buy for the next two days. We went to the butcher shop around the corner from our house, but it was closed. Tired out by this time, we went home. We ate lunch and I washed my hair while Roger napped. Around 2:00 or so, Roger went out alone on a quest for chicken or something else to eat tonight and tomorrow, as I expect all the stores will be closed tomorrow. He returned empty-handed, remarking on the French custom of shops closing across the lunch/sieste hour. At about 4:00, he went out again, returning this time with chicken and a bottle of wine. He said that the wine shop clerk spoke good English.
Here’s a shout-out to Maggie – welcome to my blog. You are my first non-family follower, so you deserve extra notice.
Lazy day! Other than the shopping trips, we did not go anywhere today. I think my pedometer is broken. When we returned from our market trip, it only showed 914 steps, and that is probably a 3,000 step journey. I reset it, and later, after I had been hanging around the apartment, it only showed 82 steps. How will we know if we have earned glace if we do not know how many steps we have walked? I think I may need to replace the batteries – they are those little round ones, and I need two. I really don’t know where one buys these in Paris, but I’m sure they must be available.
I have a fear that my computer is overheating and that it is going to burn up. I had this feeling before we left LaPlace, and I opened it up and blew it out with some of that canned air. I don’t really know if that helped or not. The computer has continued to run warmer than I would like. We have an Office Depot right around the corner from us – perhaps I should run out and get some canned air. But since I am not sure that helped the first time, I am hesitant. I really didn’t use the computer for long periods much before this summer, so maybe it isn’t really running any hotter than it ever did, or than it should. I have also considered getting one of those laptop fans. Office Depot?
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
13-7-2010
Our street is on a decline from left to right, so they were sailing down the street. He was teaching her how to swerve from side to side to slow her progeress on the slope. It was fun to watch! As we walked by, they were starting to enter a dead-end side street, but it was paved with cobblestones and I am not sure they went very far. I have skated on similar surfaces, and they are quite difficult to skate on.
12-7-2010
We took a lot of pictures at Parc De Bercy today. Instead of embedding them in my blog, I chose to give most of the captions and leave them in my Flickr account. Readers can find an account of our trip by reading the Flickr captions.
Can I really do this?
Monday, July 12, 2010 Day 12
I’m having a crisis of confidence right now. I scheduled a flight to Munich for Sisters Reuinon in Innsbruck and I received notice this morning that my reservation has been cancelled; I can’t find baking powder or cream of tartar (to make baking powder) in the store; I thought I was buying a wonderful little phone which was going to be my constant companion all over Europe, and instead I have this thing that I can’t even understand and which is pretty much useless; I am not progressing in French because I’m not making myself sit down and study the language; and we’re all out of fruit. AAAKKKKKKKK!
Hand in hand with this crisis of confidence is a nagging feeling of worry which I have never before experienced. It has to do with my impending trip and all the connections I have to worry about (making the train to CdG, catching the flight to Munich, getting on the train timely for the last leg to Innsbruck) and I realize that I am worried that I will screw something up and not get one of the connections right. This is not a feeling that I am used to. I remember many years ago when my mother-in-law was not a lot older than I am now. She expressed to us a worry that she “couldn’t” handle getting to a particular destination (I think she was traveling to Michigan or Minnesota or one of those M states) – that she would somehow mess things up and not get to where she was going. We thought she was being ridiculous at the time, and told her she would manage fine (and she did). I now understand that fear. I think it may be in part age-related. In my case it is also because I have to deal with two language barriers. I recall how doltish I felt last summer in Denver when Roger discovered that I had made reservations for Cirque de Soleil for the wrong day – fully a week later than we needed. In that case, it was not any really big deal. I made a phone call which took care of almost everything. We had to pay an extra two dollars to have our tickets printed at the box office. But if I screw up anything on this trip, it will mean that I will have a shorter time with my sisters, that I will inconvenience them because I will not be at Innsbruck when they get there, and I am absolutely certain that the price to fix it will be more than two dollars! I am discovering of myself that I am not quite as ready to face challenges as I used to be. But I suppose I had better gird up my loins, because we have only been here two weeks and I still have lots of challenges to face!!
It was cool this morning. The rain moved in about 6:00 or so and there was quite a downpour. By the time I got out of bed well after 9:00, the rain had stopped and the cool air felt wonderful. It was 68° then, and barely 70° at 2:00 in the afternoon. I decided, based on some recipes I found on the internet, that I would fix scones using the red currants. That necessitated a trip to the grocery store. Out list was rather long as we have run out of a lot of the things that were stocked in the apartment, such as vinegar, olive oil, hand soap, laundry soap. Also on the list was fabric softener. This is something I never used in Louisiana, but because we hang our clothes to dry rather than putting them in a dryer, the towels in particular are rather scratchy and I am trying to alleviate that a bit.
The other day at the market I came upon a large beet, clearly already cooked because the skin was mostly already slipped. I really like beets, so I bought two. They are pickled! They sell whole pickled beets, just loose, lying there in a pile! They were really good. The cheeses, on the other hand have been, well, cheese. We have managed to buy soft cheeses so far, very mild, not much flavor. They are not bad, but they are also nothing to write home about. When we get to the fromage counter, we stare a while, decide on one, point it out and ask for 300 grams or so. We get home, try it out, and – ho-hum. I think we are going to have to look at aged cheeses to get more flavor.
Okay, things are much better now. I managed to get my flight scheduled, using Air France instead of Opodo, I have some lovely berry-flavored iced tea, I have Beethoven’s Eroica symphony playing, and I have my wonderful husband, who embraced me, wiped my tears, and reminded me that, as long as we have each other, we can make it through anything. Je t’aime, mon amour. Je t’aime!
After a long walk, my outlook has improved considerably. It was a really beautiful day, with the temperature in the low 80s. We took a bus to Bercy Park, which is a lovely park due east of us and just across the Seine, then walked all the way home. Long walk, supplemented by glace. I really wanted some fruit, but the only fruit vendors we passed were the Seven-Eleven-type guys, and their fruits are not very good. When we got back to our neighborhood, we went to the fruit vendor even before we went home. Ah, cherries, ah, nectarines, ah, apricots!!!
I’m having a crisis of confidence right now. I scheduled a flight to Munich for Sisters Reuinon in Innsbruck and I received notice this morning that my reservation has been cancelled; I can’t find baking powder or cream of tartar (to make baking powder) in the store; I thought I was buying a wonderful little phone which was going to be my constant companion all over Europe, and instead I have this thing that I can’t even understand and which is pretty much useless; I am not progressing in French because I’m not making myself sit down and study the language; and we’re all out of fruit. AAAKKKKKKKK!
Hand in hand with this crisis of confidence is a nagging feeling of worry which I have never before experienced. It has to do with my impending trip and all the connections I have to worry about (making the train to CdG, catching the flight to Munich, getting on the train timely for the last leg to Innsbruck) and I realize that I am worried that I will screw something up and not get one of the connections right. This is not a feeling that I am used to. I remember many years ago when my mother-in-law was not a lot older than I am now. She expressed to us a worry that she “couldn’t” handle getting to a particular destination (I think she was traveling to Michigan or Minnesota or one of those M states) – that she would somehow mess things up and not get to where she was going. We thought she was being ridiculous at the time, and told her she would manage fine (and she did). I now understand that fear. I think it may be in part age-related. In my case it is also because I have to deal with two language barriers. I recall how doltish I felt last summer in Denver when Roger discovered that I had made reservations for Cirque de Soleil for the wrong day – fully a week later than we needed. In that case, it was not any really big deal. I made a phone call which took care of almost everything. We had to pay an extra two dollars to have our tickets printed at the box office. But if I screw up anything on this trip, it will mean that I will have a shorter time with my sisters, that I will inconvenience them because I will not be at Innsbruck when they get there, and I am absolutely certain that the price to fix it will be more than two dollars! I am discovering of myself that I am not quite as ready to face challenges as I used to be. But I suppose I had better gird up my loins, because we have only been here two weeks and I still have lots of challenges to face!!
It was cool this morning. The rain moved in about 6:00 or so and there was quite a downpour. By the time I got out of bed well after 9:00, the rain had stopped and the cool air felt wonderful. It was 68° then, and barely 70° at 2:00 in the afternoon. I decided, based on some recipes I found on the internet, that I would fix scones using the red currants. That necessitated a trip to the grocery store. Out list was rather long as we have run out of a lot of the things that were stocked in the apartment, such as vinegar, olive oil, hand soap, laundry soap. Also on the list was fabric softener. This is something I never used in Louisiana, but because we hang our clothes to dry rather than putting them in a dryer, the towels in particular are rather scratchy and I am trying to alleviate that a bit.
The other day at the market I came upon a large beet, clearly already cooked because the skin was mostly already slipped. I really like beets, so I bought two. They are pickled! They sell whole pickled beets, just loose, lying there in a pile! They were really good. The cheeses, on the other hand have been, well, cheese. We have managed to buy soft cheeses so far, very mild, not much flavor. They are not bad, but they are also nothing to write home about. When we get to the fromage counter, we stare a while, decide on one, point it out and ask for 300 grams or so. We get home, try it out, and – ho-hum. I think we are going to have to look at aged cheeses to get more flavor.
Okay, things are much better now. I managed to get my flight scheduled, using Air France instead of Opodo, I have some lovely berry-flavored iced tea, I have Beethoven’s Eroica symphony playing, and I have my wonderful husband, who embraced me, wiped my tears, and reminded me that, as long as we have each other, we can make it through anything. Je t’aime, mon amour. Je t’aime!
After a long walk, my outlook has improved considerably. It was a really beautiful day, with the temperature in the low 80s. We took a bus to Bercy Park, which is a lovely park due east of us and just across the Seine, then walked all the way home. Long walk, supplemented by glace. I really wanted some fruit, but the only fruit vendors we passed were the Seven-Eleven-type guys, and their fruits are not very good. When we got back to our neighborhood, we went to the fruit vendor even before we went home. Ah, cherries, ah, nectarines, ah, apricots!!!
Monday, July 12, 2010
Eat More Fruit!
Sunday, July 11, 2010 Day 11
I just realized that fruits are only half as expensive as I thought they were!! I was reading the price as Euros and making the conversion to dollars, but I forgot that the prices are listed as Euros per kilogram, and once I make the price conversion, I still have to make the weight conversion as well. So those cherries and apricots I thought were costing me $4.50 a pound are costing that amount for 2.2 pounds! The price in pounds is about $2.00. Not cheap, but way better than I originally supposed. As do most U.S. citizens, I still stumble my way around the kilograms thing. We passed a gas station along the street the other day and saw the price. When I realized that I would have to not only convert from Euros to dollars but liters to gallons as well, I didn’t even try. Sigh. Maybe it is not a problem for those engineers and scientists and mathematicians out there, but we English majors never learned the conversion charts for the metric system.
I slept until 9:00 this morning, but that is because I didn’t get to bed until after midnight, and when I did, I couldn’t get to sleep. I got up and spent some time on the computer, then went back to bed and fell asleep pretty quickly. After breakfast, we went to the market again, this time for fish (haddock), carrots, a bell pepper (no wrinkly skin), beets (lagniappe) and zucchini. Then on to the bank for some moola (my spellchecker does not recognize this word, nor its sister, moolah). While I waited for Roger to make a withdrawal (there was a line), I wandered down the market and spotted some interesting tiny red berries. I was curious as to what they were, so I bought some. It would help my French if I would try to discuss with the vendors whatever it is that they are selling. But I struggle so to understand them that they invariably revert to English. When I got home, I looked on-line and found that they are red currants. We tasted them, and they are not particularly good – very tart with an otherwise mild flavor. I have decided that I will use them to make currant scones. That will have to wait, however, because I don’t have any levening (my spellchecker does not recognize this word either). There is no baking soda or baking powder in the kitchen, nor is there any whole wheat, which this particular recipe calls for. I plan to buy those things tomorrow at the grocery store. There are no measuring cups or spoons either, but I will eyeball the ingredients. I thought about making the scones for Tuesday’s breakfast. Then I realized that Bastille Day is Wednesday, so maybe I will make them in celebration. I told Roger I could add some blueberries to the scones and make them French red, white and blue!
Other than scones, I’m wondering how to celebrate Bastille Day. I suspect that the crowds will be HUGE on the Champs-Elysées, probably something like Endymion or Rex. I don’t know if I want to have to fight the crowds, but a part of me says this probably will be my only chance ever to see the spectacle, so we ought to go. Of course, if we are in the back of 8-deep crowds, we won’t get to see the spectacle anyway. Do I want to see a parade of the French military? There will be fireworks at several locations. I think I might like to go in the evening to the Champs du Mars, which is the open grassy area below the Tour Eiffel. We could watch the fireworks from there if we can find a few meters of open space to sit on a blanket. We may just laze the rest of the day away before that time, maybe with a bottle of wine and scones and . . . who knows what!
I forgot to mention a minor amusement from the other day: when we bought the pasta sauce from the Italian deli, it came in a very thin plastic container with a lid. Roger, who is the designated microwave user, set about to heat the sauce. He realized how flimsy the container was when he lifted it to put it into the microwave, and wisely set it onto a small plate to heat it. It is a good thing he did – the container itself melted and the sauce poured out onto the plate. Fortunately, very little of the sauce ended up on the microwave turntable and we didn’t suffer much from the experience.
Ah, the joys of peach-flavored iced tea in a real glass!
As previously noted, we headed to the RER station to check out the train to the Charles de Gaulle Airport. I have a flight which leaves Sunday morning at 8:15 and I need to do all I can to prepare to get out there on time. For those of you who don’t know the story, when we were in Paris last fall, we took the Metro line out to the airport, and failed to purchase the correct ticket. When we got off the Metro at the airport after 10:00 at night, we inserted our ticket to open the gate, but it wouldn’t open. We had bypassed the booth to get the correct ticket in downtown Paris, and now we were stuck. Roger eventually gave me a boost over the gate, handed our luggage over, then hauled himself over as well. We spent the next several minutes wondering if the local gendarmes would be coming after us, but we weren’t alone in jumping the gate. However, it is an experience I cannot afford to have if I expect to catch a flight in a timely manner. So we dropped into the RER station and found a ticket kiosk which allowed me to purchase my ticket for the trip. One less thing to have to worry about Sunday morning. From there we wandered back home.
Our freezer and refrigerator are not frost-free. I haven’t seen one of these for years! I do recall defrosting the freezer portion of our refrigerator as a child, but I don’t think we had to defrost the refrigerator part. The build-up is not too great yet, but we haven’t been here two weeks yet. I don’t know if we will have to defrost it until we leave.
World Cup Final tonight. I don’t know whom to root for – the street seems to be pulling for the Pays-Bas, although it is rather hard to tell since there has been no scoring thus far in the game (almost 80:00). There have been moans and groans when the P-B misses, and slight cheers when Spain misses.
I just realized that fruits are only half as expensive as I thought they were!! I was reading the price as Euros and making the conversion to dollars, but I forgot that the prices are listed as Euros per kilogram, and once I make the price conversion, I still have to make the weight conversion as well. So those cherries and apricots I thought were costing me $4.50 a pound are costing that amount for 2.2 pounds! The price in pounds is about $2.00. Not cheap, but way better than I originally supposed. As do most U.S. citizens, I still stumble my way around the kilograms thing. We passed a gas station along the street the other day and saw the price. When I realized that I would have to not only convert from Euros to dollars but liters to gallons as well, I didn’t even try. Sigh. Maybe it is not a problem for those engineers and scientists and mathematicians out there, but we English majors never learned the conversion charts for the metric system.
I slept until 9:00 this morning, but that is because I didn’t get to bed until after midnight, and when I did, I couldn’t get to sleep. I got up and spent some time on the computer, then went back to bed and fell asleep pretty quickly. After breakfast, we went to the market again, this time for fish (haddock), carrots, a bell pepper (no wrinkly skin), beets (lagniappe) and zucchini. Then on to the bank for some moola (my spellchecker does not recognize this word, nor its sister, moolah). While I waited for Roger to make a withdrawal (there was a line), I wandered down the market and spotted some interesting tiny red berries. I was curious as to what they were, so I bought some. It would help my French if I would try to discuss with the vendors whatever it is that they are selling. But I struggle so to understand them that they invariably revert to English. When I got home, I looked on-line and found that they are red currants. We tasted them, and they are not particularly good – very tart with an otherwise mild flavor. I have decided that I will use them to make currant scones. That will have to wait, however, because I don’t have any levening (my spellchecker does not recognize this word either). There is no baking soda or baking powder in the kitchen, nor is there any whole wheat, which this particular recipe calls for. I plan to buy those things tomorrow at the grocery store. There are no measuring cups or spoons either, but I will eyeball the ingredients. I thought about making the scones for Tuesday’s breakfast. Then I realized that Bastille Day is Wednesday, so maybe I will make them in celebration. I told Roger I could add some blueberries to the scones and make them French red, white and blue!
Other than scones, I’m wondering how to celebrate Bastille Day. I suspect that the crowds will be HUGE on the Champs-Elysées, probably something like Endymion or Rex. I don’t know if I want to have to fight the crowds, but a part of me says this probably will be my only chance ever to see the spectacle, so we ought to go. Of course, if we are in the back of 8-deep crowds, we won’t get to see the spectacle anyway. Do I want to see a parade of the French military? There will be fireworks at several locations. I think I might like to go in the evening to the Champs du Mars, which is the open grassy area below the Tour Eiffel. We could watch the fireworks from there if we can find a few meters of open space to sit on a blanket. We may just laze the rest of the day away before that time, maybe with a bottle of wine and scones and . . . who knows what!
I forgot to mention a minor amusement from the other day: when we bought the pasta sauce from the Italian deli, it came in a very thin plastic container with a lid. Roger, who is the designated microwave user, set about to heat the sauce. He realized how flimsy the container was when he lifted it to put it into the microwave, and wisely set it onto a small plate to heat it. It is a good thing he did – the container itself melted and the sauce poured out onto the plate. Fortunately, very little of the sauce ended up on the microwave turntable and we didn’t suffer much from the experience.
Ah, the joys of peach-flavored iced tea in a real glass!
As previously noted, we headed to the RER station to check out the train to the Charles de Gaulle Airport. I have a flight which leaves Sunday morning at 8:15 and I need to do all I can to prepare to get out there on time. For those of you who don’t know the story, when we were in Paris last fall, we took the Metro line out to the airport, and failed to purchase the correct ticket. When we got off the Metro at the airport after 10:00 at night, we inserted our ticket to open the gate, but it wouldn’t open. We had bypassed the booth to get the correct ticket in downtown Paris, and now we were stuck. Roger eventually gave me a boost over the gate, handed our luggage over, then hauled himself over as well. We spent the next several minutes wondering if the local gendarmes would be coming after us, but we weren’t alone in jumping the gate. However, it is an experience I cannot afford to have if I expect to catch a flight in a timely manner. So we dropped into the RER station and found a ticket kiosk which allowed me to purchase my ticket for the trip. One less thing to have to worry about Sunday morning. From there we wandered back home.
Our freezer and refrigerator are not frost-free. I haven’t seen one of these for years! I do recall defrosting the freezer portion of our refrigerator as a child, but I don’t think we had to defrost the refrigerator part. The build-up is not too great yet, but we haven’t been here two weeks yet. I don’t know if we will have to defrost it until we leave.
World Cup Final tonight. I don’t know whom to root for – the street seems to be pulling for the Pays-Bas, although it is rather hard to tell since there has been no scoring thus far in the game (almost 80:00). There have been moans and groans when the P-B misses, and slight cheers when Spain misses.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
11-7-2010
We achieved another milestone today – we bargained down the price at a flea market! And yet another milestone – we bought a pitcher and four glasses!! We started out to go to an art fair at the Montparnasse Tour (Tower). We walked there, probably only a 15-minute or so walk. We walked all the way around the tower looking for the fair, but no success. It was clear that the fair was not in the tower itself, because there was a guard there keeping out the flotsam and jetsam. We pondered what to do next, and decided to go to a nearby train station and check on a train ticket out to Charles de Gaulle Airport. I am leaving this weekend and I don’t want to have to jump the gate again. Once was quite enough, thank you very much! So we whipped out our trusty map and planned our route, and it looked like the best route included turning down a street called Rue Edgar Quinot. Once we got onto the street, voila! There was the art market! A bit of serendipity – we had already given up on finding the market. The market consisted of probably 60-80 stalls set up in the neutral ground of the rather wide street. Much of it was pretty decent art – too bad we are not in the market for art at this time. I know, I know, I should buy art that I like when and where I am, but we don’t want to have to cart it around, and we are not really here to buy art. Further, I can’t say that there was any one piece which reached out and grabbed me. As we passed the last stall, there was an empty space of a couple of hundred feet, then more stalls set up. This was a flea market – another bit of serendipity. This one probably consisted of 100 stalls or so. We were about half way through the market when I spotted a pitcher and four glasses. Not huge, but at least as large as what we are using now. Our landlady furnished much of the kitchen at Ikea. It appears that she bought the eating utensils in a glass jar, probably with a seal or something on it, because there is no lid. Actually, there are two of these. The problem with them is that they have no pour spout, and when they are full or more than half full and we try to pour from them, we pour tea all over the place! So we really needed a pitcher. We were also in the market for some iced tea glasses instead of the latte cups we have been drinking out of. So I spotted the set for 10€. We considered it for a moment, but the vendor was busy with other customers and Roger didn’t seem too excited about them so we moved on. The farther I walked past other stalls, the more I wanted to go back and buy. Finally, after some discussion, I decided to return and offer 8€ for the set. We checked our change and scraped together 8€. We went back and had to hang around for a few moments while the guy served other customers. When he got to us, I asked (in French) if he would accept 8€ for the five pieces. He mumbled something in French which I did not catch, so I just waited. After a moment, he said “OK” and started to wrap the glasses up. When he got to the pitcher, he wrapped it in something which, when we got home, we discovered was an acrylic turtleneck sweater, never worn! Ooookaaaaaay! I paid him his 8€ and we left. Success! I can now say I have bargained down the price of something in a French flea market. In French!
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