Ramona & Eggroll's Last Ride

October 8, 2010 to October 21, 2010

The Photos

October 8 ~ Early-ish start gets us 40 miles down the road to Bourbon-Lancy.  We are exhausted by the time we get up the hill to the city center and that exhaustion increases exponentially when we realize we have to double back to camping.  Pay for three days of camping and settle in.  Attempt to buy desert stuff and juice but we miss the closing time by mere minutes.

October 9, 10 & 11 ~ Little bit of internet and a sorely missed taste of home ~ chips and hot sauce.  The brand is Old El Paso which I would never buy at home but it’s pretty damned good in France and then even more wonderful when we combine it with a kind of cream cheese, YUM.  Gregory sends out his first official CouchSurfing requests.  We do our now redundant walk into town on a Monday to find NOTHING open, I’d think we are too dumb to learn but I know it’s merely a disconnection from the days of the week.  Pay for one more night of camping with road hitting plans in the morning.

October 12 ~ Set the alarm for 7:30 but tickle fight, breakfast and packing means we don’t mount up until nearly noon.  Fortunately, this section of path is super easy and we get to Digoin a little after 2.  Try to decide if we want to continue biking to Lyon or take a train.  One map makes it look really easy and I’m stubbornly set on seeing the biking out to the very end.  Partially out of guilt that Gregory bought the BoB and we have only used it for a few weeks.  Gregory’s superior map reading skills inform him that there are too many of the 5% gradients that nearly killed us getting to Bourbon-Lancy.  A quick trip by the train station indicates that it’s only 20 euro to get to Lyon … but we are told there’s no train today*.  Heading away from the station, I recommend that we stay in a hotel tonight knowing it is easier to get going if we are warm and don’t have to pack up the tent.  However, hotels near the station are exorbitantly     expensive and decidedly unfriendly to Gregory.  They do direct us to their sister location on the cheaper side of town.  Gregory and I have some communication problems because I feel like I’m forcing the issue to stay in a hotel when he would rather camp and he’s perfectly content to hotel it because he sees the sense it makes.  Either way, we end up at a hotel, take long hot showers, eat a little and then watch a movie until sleep claims us.

*Later I find out through FaceBook that train workers are on strike.

October 13 ~ Wake up plenty early but not particularly rested.  It is a cold, foggy morning.  Easily leave the hotel by 9 and bike to the train station.  Only to find out that the trains are on a different schedule from yesterday (due to the strike) and that we can’t get a train to Lyon from here.  Our only option is to bike 11+ kilometers to Paray-le-Monial.  That train is at 3, giving us plenty of time, but since we are up we decide to press on.

Biking next to the foggy canal is beautiful and serene but very, very cold.  We are not really prepared for cold weather (I mean give us a break we thought we were going to be in South America for goodness sakes!)  Make it to P-le-M in no time.  Go directly to train station.  Do not pass go, do not collect $200.  Only to find out we can NOT take our bikes on the train, but we can on the bus … which will be here in a little more than an hour.  Scramble, rush and hurry to repackage our stuff into the most efficient use of space.  We put all our personal items in one backpack (it was neat to find out it all fit after sending stuff home with my mother), the bedrolls in another, removing the panniers and packing all the bike and tent equipment in the BoB trailer.  Then I strapped all five tires into one bundle while Gregory strapped the two bikes together.  We finish just in time and Gregory goes to find celebratory brunch items before we get on the bus for who knows how long.

OMG, you would not believe the trouble we had getting on the bus.  The station attendant indicated that we should buy the ticket from the bus driver.  Then by the time the bus arrived and informed us we should have bought tickets inside, the station attendant was gone.  The ticket machine wouldn’t take ANY of our cards and the bus driver couldn’t take cash.  To complicate matters, we still don’t speak French and the driver didn’t speak any English.  The two young men at the station waiting for their own trains and busses spoke some English but not confidently enough to be of any help.  Ultimately, the driver lets us load our gear and get on with the ‘understanding’ that we will buy our tickets when we get ‘somewhere.’  After we drop off the only other passenger, we change bus drivers and he never tells us where to pay for our ticket.

Riding the bus we see more and less, more variety of landscape but for less time.  This variety becomes both more valuable as we enjoy the changes and less valuable as the changes happen too fast to keep track of.  I have missed the rattle and squeak of a long distance public bus.  Strangely neither of us feels the desire to read or sudoku or otherwise involve our minds as we seem content to enjoy the movement without the expenditure of physical work.

Arrive in Lyon and quickly check on the train situation, there’s no point in putting Ramona and Eggroll back together if we have to disassemble them tomorrow.  Trains schedules are still in flux, therefore continue with reassembly of our bikes.  Someone asks if we need help, we reply no and I keep working while Gregory stops to talk to him.  Come to find out he know the guy and place that Gregory wanted to CouchSurf with.  Our new friend is Aaron and he starts to give us directions then decides to lead us there instead.  How serendipitous!  We finish reassembly and repacking quickly to start the 10 minute ± bike ride to the squat known as La Friche to meet Fox.

Although Fox’ reply had been only maybe, we hadn’t had the chance to check e-mail before being dropped on his doorstep like stray kittens, he graciously found space for us and welcomed us with little hesitation.  He showed us to an available caravan and we settled into the squat life.  Despite the comparatively effortless day of travel we were strangely exhausted.  Dine on a canned dinner and retire with movie watching.

October 14 ~ Wake up and nosh some cereal and yogurt in bed, I love lazy mornings.  Make our way to Fox’ bike workshop and offer our assistance.  Our first job is to sort a large pile of bikes into Trash (technically sell as scrap metal), Trash with usable parts and Good Frames.  Finish the sorting tout suite and move on to removing those usable part from those trash frames.  Learn how to remove pedals and pull axles amongst the more general job of simply unscrewing one part from another.  Get greasy, greasy fingers despite initial gloving.  Gloves are much to bulky to do some things in.  Then once they are off and your fingers are greased there’s not much point in trying to re-glove.  After working we follow Fox back to his house and talk to him while he prepares his meal.  He ends up making enough for all of us and shares his really wonderful veggie stir fry over rice grits*.  Lots more talking and Gregory washes up our few dishes before we head to bed.

*Yep, rice grits.  Fox’ friends mill hemp and to clean the mill of hemp oil they run plain rice through it.  This cooks like grits do but of course have the rice flavor and a slightly strange color compliments of the hemp oil I guess.

October 15 ~ Slow morning but we finally make it over to the bike warehouse.  We only do a little bit of sorting, pedals and axles, before we leave so Gregory can paint his face and I can get warm before our Critical Mass/Velorution ride starts at 5:30±.  I go out to acquire bread and cheese for our lunch and we watch Kill Bill while Gregory paints and I pet the cat named Rustine, which means inner tube patch.

Velorution is crazy as we stop traffic and create havoc throughout Lyon.  Gregory and I are biking a tandem cargo trike with trailer and are the longest thing in the parade of tall bikes, small bikes, cargo trikes and even one six person 4 wheeler that virtually defies description.  We are just about the most disorganized conglomeration I have ever been a part of.  We completely stop traffic to argue about which way is the best way to go.  One problem arrises when an irate BMW driver tries to cause trouble.  He has been weaving in and out of regular traffic and coming shockingly close to our parade until, of course, he makes contact and loses a small bit of paint.  The police come but A) Gregory and I are removed from the action because we don’t speak the language and we weren’t involved directly with the event and B) the Police realize that it’s a bullshit claim by the driver trying to create drama.

Back on the road and it looks to be smooth sailing the rest of the way home until a lady tries to hedge us over and one of the bikes on our trailer gets stuck in her wheel well.  We extricate, she doesn’t pitch a fit and we continue on … beyond the points of comfort and fun.  Finally we return to the warehouse, park the bikes and remove ourselves to dinner nearby.  We end up at a place that looks very fancy especially when compared to the ‘bombed’ out look of the squat directly across the street.  We share a salad, real quenelles (not out of a can) and desert before heading home to wash Gregory’s face and rest our aching sit bones.

October 16 ~ Rainy cold morning keeps us in bed, as if we needed excuses.  I’m developing a sore throat and runny nose which will not be helped by my next act of a quickly cooling shower (it started out warm enough but didn’t last).  Gregory and Fox talk while he waits for me and then we try to find a warm place to read and eat some lunch.  Share an interesting meal where we get to cook our own meats on a hot stone brought to the table.  Tasty and Unique.  Now we waste time till Indian dinner with Fox tonight.  I write and Gregory reads.

*I’m feeling the pressure of needing to decide our next step.  Do we hike and camp in Corsica or do we try to get to Turkey and do who knows what.  We both still want to go to Damanhur and Parma, Italy but don’t see how they fit into our plans, nonexistent as they are.

October 17 ~ Didn’t exist at least as far as my daily writing went.  In retrospect there was probably a concert/art installation at La Friche, which I did not enjoy and therefore didn’t stick around for.

October 18 ~ Today the members of La Friche go to court.  They find out the next step in their imminent eviction from the squat.  We arrive with only minutes to spare … well some of us do anyway.  Florian, Fox’ CouchSurfer from Germany, and I follow Silvere to the court room.  Gregory, Fox and several others are delayed either by the riots outside or the metal detectors inside.  Once in the court room, it quickly becomes clear that it is beyond full and police officers are outside preventing anyone else from entering.  I think it makes sense for the two non-French speakers to switch out with two French speakers who have a vested interest in the proceedings.  However, I am unable to convey this correctly to those outside and Florian and I continue standing in the back of the court, fully expecting to be ejected at any point.

The proceedings start and it reminds me of my few dealings with traffic court.  The lawyers and magistrates are all wearing black robes with white sashes, which is cool because, like all uniforms, it attempts to diminish any class distinctions.  One magistrate is rapidly going through a HUGE pile of case files calling out the case and handing it off to one of several other magistrates at the bench.  The representative for each case comes forward and discusses with the magistrate in charge of their file.  Eventually the officer asks Florian and I to sit down in the now available space beside Silvere.  Silvere asks if we are understanding the proceedings and we have to say no, at which point Silvere hits upon my earlier idea of exchange.  We concur and Florian asks him to explain it to the officer watching the door, who agrees to exchange two CouchSurfers for Fox and Thomas … except that neither is standing outside waiting.  The exchange still occurs but for people that I didn’t know.  Gregory, Fox and Thomas show back up after about ten minutes and Gregory has been enjoying the chaos of strikers and riot squad outside.

After a little while the La Friche representatives come out of the courtroom and everyone gathers around to hear what the lawyer has to say.  In a nutshell, they all have to come back at 5 o’clock for the actual presentation of information in the case.  Fox and his surfeit of (couch)surfers leave shortly thereafter with stops to check out the menus and prices of two Indian restaurants.  A plan is formulated to dine at one after the 5 o’clock return to court.  Back at La Friche, Gregory and I internet and work on our next move while Fox and Florian work in the shop.  Florian has fallen in love with tall bikes and is learning all the steps while at the same time making one of his own.  We all quickly loose track of time and at 10 till 5, I rush out to ask Fox if he’s headed to court.  The warehouse is absolutely full of people and there is no way Fox is going to make them leave to be one more voice in a sea of voices.

Being on our own for dinner, we decide we still really want Indian.  However, I have no idea how to get back to the places we chose with Fox.  Instead we follow the directions I found online to a different restaurant.  We drive right past it because it doesn’t exist anymore.  Unfortunately we have to retrace our path to figure that out.  We end up at a little square with shops and cafés but no Indian place.  At Gregory’s insistence, it’s my plan after all, I ask for directions at a pharmacy and he directs us straight to the place we had found earlier.  We thoroughly indulge in the great food and wonderful warmth.  *Have I mentioned yet that our caravan is not heated … neither is most of La Friche … that I feel like I’m nearly frozen to the core … and that I thoroughly despise the cold.  Well, now you know!

Arrive back home to find out the court proceedings did little more than delay the inevitable and as it stands now, they are supposed to know in about 3 weeks time exactly how long they have until they are evicted.  Also of note, but not of my experience, Gregory goes dumpster diving as our host is completely Freegan!  

October 19 ~ Decide to bike to the bookstore for more English books for me.  As we are getting closer we notice the streets are crowded with people and police.  We bike across the bridge and into even thicker crowds of people and a smoky haze in the air.  A block later we stop as we realize through bleary, teary eyes the haze is tear gas because this is where the strikers started this morning.  We attempt to continue but we are not strong enough to continue to an unknown destination.  We hightail it out of there and head back towards home for internet and food, with a stop for groceries along the way.  We intended to ask Fox’ recommendation on a place for internet but we end up at McDonald’s.  Two large fries and almost all my battery power later, we potentially think we possibly might have a probable next plausible destination … maybe.

October 20 ~ Spend a little bit of the morning fully packing our backpacks to see what we are and are not taking on this next leg.  Disassemble the BoB trailer, pack it with bike shoes and parts and send it to my parents house.  Plan anew to venture to the bookstore and the train station to see what our options for Torino tomorrow are.  After several blocks we are roadblocked by crowds and riot squad.  The strikers have moved across the bridge and down the street.  We stop to gawk with the rest of the crowd and follow the riot squad twice as they attempt to take back two blocks.  Eventually we move beyond this impasse to find that there is additional chaos at the bridge.  We aren’t sure why the bridge is completely empty but the riot squad book ends encourage us to chose a different route.  Despite Gregory’s continued interest in the happenings, we move on to the bookstore hoping to arrive before they close.  I buy the Complete Works of Jane Austen and I have to admit I’m dreading the read.

I fear I have gotten us lost trying to find the train station but then things begin to look familiar and suddenly we are there.  We are told that we need to take a bus to Chambéry where we can get the train to Torino.  The bus leaves at 1:30 (YAY!)  We don’t have to rush around tomorrow morning.  Final Indian dinner before retiring to bed.

*Later I am very sad to have left our trusty steeds, Ramona and Eggroll behind in Lyon.  I know that they will be cared for or made use of in a tall bike creation but I can’t help feeling the loss of security and freedom they allowed us.

October 21 ~ I write this (and the last few days) sitting on a nonmoving train, having just realized that the reason we were encouraged to take the bus was so we wouldn’t miss the train to Torino … but I’m getting ahead of myself.  Wake up, tickle fight, eat breakfast, tickle fight, pack, tickle fight, check out of our caravan and say good-bye to Fox and Florian.  The short walk to the Metro and figuring out our stops and connections is easy peasy, except they keep announcing something about our stop that I can’t understand.  As Gregory peruses the map, a French girl asks if we need any help.  Gregory tells her where we are heading and she assures us we are on the right track.  She starts to go and I ask her what the announcements have been.  Exactly what we should have puzzled out, this is the last Metro stop because the following stop is shut down due to the strike.  Fortunately the strikes didn’t effect us at all … cue ominous music!

Arrive in plenty of time but can’t use the ticket machine to buy our tickets.  We divide our forces, putting Gregory in the outrageously long line to buy tickets while I get in the significantly shorter but much more impatient information line.  The info I get is that the train we want is leaving in 10 minutes and that if we ask the conductor we might be able to ride for free.  I motion Gregory out of the ticket buying line and we haul ass up the stairs, clear our lack of ticket with the conductor and take our seats … where we now wait … and wait … and wait …

Our 12:45 train finally pulled out of the station at 2:24!

Arrive in Chambéry with enough time to grab a slight meal and play my first game of pinball before catching the train to Torino, which is PACKED!  At first we thought we had lucked out with a nearly empty car, but we were quickly moved to a car that was ACTUALLY going to Torino, rather than staying in Chambéry.  We find two seats across the aisle from each other, which was better than we had hoped when initially getting onto the train.  My seat mate is Melissa an organic esthetician from Paris via New Orleans.  She immediately recognized the American in us and we talk about our trip, her life in Paris and things to do in Torino.  The main thing she recommends, and the reason for her trip today, is the Salon de Gusto, a slow food festival happening this weekend.

Gregory completely fixates on this opportunity, despite our arrangements to be at Damanhur in the morning and once we arrive in Torino we spend at least two hours trying to locate a hotel with vacancies.  I’m completely detached from this process as I watch the desperation of trying to force  this chance to happen.  After driving us to two or three hotels with no luck, the taxi driver even offers to let us spend the night at his place.  At this point Gregory turns to me for help and decision making but since I refuse to offer any advice, he decides against it.  We eventually return to our original plan of train to Ivrea, spend the night in a hotel, then taxi to Damanhur in the morning.

Finding a hotel in Ivrea was’t easy and there were not that many people out and about to ask directions of.  We did find a group of young people who directed us to a hotel nearby (in relation to everything else of course!)  Showers!  Hot Wonderful Showers (remember no heat or hot water at La Friche!) Clean hair and mostly new clothes for tomorrow.

In Which We Find, You CAN Have Too Much of a Thing

September 18, 2010 to October 7, 2010

The Photos

September 18 ~Leaving Paris.  Get up at 8, shower and pack until the house cleaner arrives at 10:30.  Make last grab of stuff and finish packing in the courtyard.  A quick stop at Jordan’s to drop off stuff and say goodbye.  Then head to ‘a point’, versus heading to ‘point A’, on the trail.  Oh yeah, Gregory bought a BoB trailer for the majority of our stuff.  This makes me navigator.  Finally meet up with the trail at nearly 2.  Bike THROUGH the airport (WOW, how scary!) and spend most of the day on 2 or 3 lane roads trying NOT to get run over.  Stop near Pringy hoping to find the tourism office open and fully stocked on cycle route maps.  It’s not open, and as we are deciding our next move, a girl shows up with office supplies.  Although she isn’t at work to work, she tells us where camping should be and directs us to a sushi place on the edge of town.  Our first impulse is to just press on, but the road ahead looks bleaker still and it’s getting late so we decide to wait the 30 minutes till they open.  The sushi was OK, but NOT worth the price, Stupid All-You-Can-Eat places!  We are two tired kids and there is no sign of camping, so we pull into a field with a shielding tree line and set up in the gathering dark.

September 19 ~Day of rest.  We don’t really need it but the trail remains unappealing, and we slept late and to be honest we just don’t feel like moving forward.  Gregory goes to town to find lunchables.  While he’s gone a truck drives right by the tent but doesn’t stop.  We spend the day reading and watching people ‘work’ at a little forested oasis in the same field.  After the ‘workers’ leave, we trek over to take a look.  It seems they were building hunting blinds possibly for dove or other fowl creatures.  Watch some Dr. Who and try to find our regular sleep schedule.

September 20 ~Get up, pack and leave by 10.  Today I’m hauling the BoB and Gregory is navigating, but this means that we are riding each other’s bikes without resetting seat heights and other personal preferences.  I didn’t know this was the plan and I’m NOT happy with the change.  Fortunately the path starts out flat enough and we are easily distracted when we see a Decathlon Sporting Goods store.  We move the better kickstand from my bike to Gregory’s, for stability with parking the trailer and buy a standard kickstand for my bike.  We get back on the road around 12.  Shortly thereafter we stop in a forest to eat some tuna.  We aren’t quite hungry yet but we have a good tête-à-tête and just around the next corner is a GIANT hill.  I’m suddenly wishing a pox upon Gregory and that each person was responsible for their own load of crap instead of me carrying it all, even if Gregory was hauling it all yesterday.  I walk and push my bike almost all the way up, by the time I arrive Gregory has decided that we would be better off leaving the path since the path is highway.  Begin to trail through the forest and while it’s a wonderful mountain bike trail, it’s hard as hell with a trailer.

We decide to camp here for a day or two, so Gregory goes to get some food in ‘nearby’ Fontainebleau while I set up camp.  The spot we quickly chose before Gregory left was not that level or ideal for sleeping in so upon Gregory’s return we find a new level campsite.  Dinner, reading and one more Dr. Who before bed does nothing to bring on the sleepies when we need them at bedtime.

September 21 ~Croissants and honey for breakfast disturbed by a nearly endless parade of old people just beyond our ‘table’ rock.  We spend the day exploring our newest home with the help the gift we received from René in Amsterdam.  Having no constraints on our time or resources we talk about everything before finally deciding that we were sitting at the crossroads deciding between nonexistence and grandchildren.  Mind bending explorations and realizations all but forgotten in the next instant.

September 22 ~Long night of nearly no sleeping with a really strange dream about the Unseelie Court, spells and enchantment (really wish I’d written that down, grr!)  Breakfast is Lunch followed by a hike to the parking lot looking for a trashcan and water supply but finding neither.  Back to camp for reading until we exhaustedly fall asleep.  We take a quick shower which would be more of a rinse with just about the least amount of water either of us has ever used, but we are hoping it will facilitate more restful sleep tonight.  We don’t know if we should be worried or not that our days are essentially nothing more than reading, eating, shitting and sleeping, not in any particular order.  We make the grand plan to bike to town tomorrow for more provisions since we are staying here a couple more days.  A great place to unplug and reconnect.

September 23 ~Trip to town for internet and groceries is harder than it sounds with a bumpy downhill, towering uphill and steep downhill.  Gregory gets reprimanded by the police for not stopping at a red light but we are able to talk ourselves out of the 19 euro fine.  Lunch and internet to upload pictures and try to find a new better path to almost anywhere (at this point we don’t have anywhere we HAVE to be).  We find a few potentials but they all seem more hiking than biking.  We buy three days worth of groceries, trying more canned prepared meals and less sandwiches.  Yes, we are limited by not having a stove but we just don’t have the spare room and cold canned meals aren’t THAT bad.  After a stop for bread and bike repair, we discover that Gregory has ripped his pants.  Nice butt not the impression we might hope to make on the locals.  Fortunately, we are stopped directly in front of Global Sport.  Gregory goes in to find new adventure pants (his second pair since we just bought one replacement in Paris) but low blood sugar from eating too long ago, means he can’t really focus on the task.  I lock the bikes and come in to find him pants to try on.  One fits OK but looks dumb so we settle on the one that fits slightly too big but looks better and seems more functional.  Gregory steps up to the counter and gets embroiled in a great talk with the store owner about our trip so far, our current camping and our upcoming plans.  He in turn tells us that there are wild boar in the forest and that Corsica, which we have been considering, is a special place not to be missed.  We restart the bike home but stop two additional times for Gregory to fix at his bike.  The last stop, at a gas station, requires the help of a 10-12 year old boy and the loan of his tools to fix the kickstand.  Reverse the steep uphill, towering downhill and bumpy uphill back to camp.  Nibble the treats we have acquired while we read (Gregory) and write (me) till dark.  Which was at least five minutes ago …

September 24 ~Rain off and on through the night continues today.  We only leave the tent for breakfast, lunch and breaks of sunlight.  We try our first canned dinner of Three Cheese Ravioli.  It’s not completely new (see August 13^th) but we are unwilling to try the more adventurous tins at the moment.  More reading by both of us will probably continue until it’s too dark to read then most likely an episode of Dr. Who before sleeptime (which in reality is talktime until sleeptime).

September 25 & 26 ~Lots and lots of doing nothing.  Rain and cold keep us cooped up in the tent.  Reading and eating are just about our only diversions.  I notice we are checking the time fairly constantly so I ban time checking on the 26^th.  Ruled by the requests our bodies make, we seem to eat less because we are hungry and more because we think we should.

September 27 ~Bike to Fontainebleau for luxurious hotel stay.  Luxurious in the fact that I can stay in the hot, hot shower for as long as I want.  The hotel claims to have WiFi but we eventually give up on it.  The decision to go out for lunch, turns into grabbing pre-made sandwiches then scurry back to our room for cuddles and movie watching.  We do venture back out for Indian food and I learn that I do NOT prefer Matta Paneer … too many peas and not enough paneer.

September 28 ~I didn’t sleep well and we still feel the need for internet so we decide early on to stay another night.  The internet at the hotel is still ‘broken’ so we find our way to a restaurant for lunch and taxes (Gregory’s).  I locate pictures on Gregory’s Flick’r that I don’t have from our time in Guatemala and in searching figure out that his Guatemala set has massive duplicates.  *We blame crappy internet and not yet having the cool Flick’r Upload’r application!  I clean up the duplicates, download the ones I need and upload the ones I’ve found while Gregory assembles his tax files to send to his accountant.  Five hours gone in no time.  In deciding what’s for dinner, we opt to buy groceries for about 3 days worth of meals.  This gives us the freedom to camp anywhere without then sending some poor soul (always Gregory) off to find food and it saves us a little bit of money as we won’t need to eat out at often.  Gregory sends me home (around the corner and up some stairs) with our provisions while he stops to get samosas at the ‘other’ Indian food restaurant in town.  He arrives with Samosas & Palak Paneer & Matta Paneer & Nan.  A tiny argument ensues because IF I’d known he was getting more than Samosas I would have preferred NOT to get Matta Paneer again so soon, if ever.  We made up before things digressed to a knife fight, but it seems a fairly typical break in communication.  Watch a movie during dinner and try to go to bed early so we can get on the road first thing!

September 29 ~Great morning as we both wake up ready to hit the road.  Yet after hasty showers and repacking we are back to being our regular grumpy, don’t like moving selves.  For some reason moving is too much work and makes us snipe at each other.  After my frustration of the giant hill while pulling the BoB, Gregory has gone back to BoB detail and I am navigator.  I want to say that if I’d known in advance there were giant hills on this crap highway, I would have been fine, but I really think I’m fooling myself.  *Of Note ~ It has been easier to write this journal when we are moving and there is day to day change.  I didn’t write at all in Paris and didn’t write much when we were camped in the woods*

We get on the road close to 11 and cycle, cycle, cycle.  Boy it’s hard work and I find myself wishing I had more strength and more stamina but I just don’t and I don’t really see how to get it.  I’m quite frustrated that Gregory’s pace is about a block faster than mine AND he has the extra weight.  I spend about half the day trying to keep up with him, wearing myself out physically and emotionally.  Eventually we talk about it and agree that it’s pointless for me to further frustrate myself by trying to keep up, so we will each go at our own pace and he will have to wait on me occasionally.  Just outside of Montargis, we discover that my back tire has gone flat.  We air it up at a nearby gas station where the attendant tries to talk to us about a guy who cycled from Lisbon to Thailand.

Back on the road, but a punctured tire won’t get you very far.  I eventually stop in a parking lot so I don’t damage my rim while Gregory goes looking for a repair shop.  He comes back soon with a replacement tube and pump, but we don’t really have a wrench in the tool set.  With no other option, we walk, read as Gregory carries, my bike to the shop and borrow the appropriate tool.  In short order, we find the offending sharp item and replace the tube.  As luck would have it, we’ve seen signs that camping is close by.  Quickly set up tents and beds before returning to the center of Montargis for reading and dinner.  Gregory is really enjoying his book, Magister Ludi also known as the Glass Bead Game, and I finish writing out today’s adventure while we wait for dinner to arrive ~ Escargots, Salmon and desert to share!

September 30 ~Rain sets in around 4am and continues until after 11, thereby keeping us confined to quarters.  Fortunately we both have books to read *There has been a large increase of reading on both our parts but impressively on Gregory’s.  This time of biking seems to be the first time he has allowed himself to just sit and read.

During an excursion out of the tent for the restroom and exploration of the buildings on property, he meets a German couple also biking on approximately on the same path as us.  At some point his enthusiastic “No Way!” resounds through the campground, rousting me out of the tent to come meet the new and exciting people he has found to talk to.  Never 100% sure what to do, I decide to make an appearance.  Gregory gets annoyed by my reenactment but the conversation progresses until we finally let them continue on their way.  They have told us about a potential cycle path along the canal that should be much easier and take us almost all the way to where we want to go.  We watch two movies and some Dr. Who in the ‘Salle de T.V.’ only really breaking for Lunch and then Dinner.  A perfect veg out day with a relatively early bedtime and hope for sunshine tomorrow.

October 1 ~My camera tells me this is day 305 of our trip.  It doesn’t seem like that much time has passed.  We both wake up in cheerful moods and the sun is shining brightly by 9:30 or 10.  So we pack up and prepare to head out.  Sock warming during breakfast in the ‘S de T.V.’ before hitting the road.  Stop around 2 for lunch on the side of the road and hope that we are right about having only 10 more miles to Briare, which is where we can pick up the canal path.  IF it exists it will get us off the highway, so fingers crossed.  We stop on the outskirts of Briare for groceries and zip ties.  Then, I catch up the last two days while Gregory searches for a wrench suitable for removing bike tires.  Right after lunch my left knee began to hurt in that ‘feels like it needs to pop but won’t’ way so I enjoy the rest no matter how short lived.

We stop at a hotel in Briare for a couple of reasons.

1. Shower

ii. I’m Lazy

3. Don’t want to go too much farther on my knee

4. Tourism office is closed and it makes sense not to bike past it just to double back in the morning.

e. Did I mention lazy?  I did, well then tired, I’m Tired.

6. It’s starting to sprinkle and then continues to rain

7. Internet *although I don’t really need it, Gregory needs to do some banking.

Wonderful hot shower then use the lint roller on the sleeping pads (should have done that in Paris!)  Start Flick’r uploading one of two uploads then head to dinner ~ sharing another thirty euro meal of escargot, veal, cheese plate and tiramisu.  I’m excited and hungry.  Early to bed (planned) and early wake up (also planned NOW!)

October 2 ~Morning comes, I don’t feel that rested, blaming scratchy sheets and a restless Gregory.  Breakfast in bed, yogurt and cereal from our provisions, followed by a quick rinse, cause I’m NOT passing up hot water, pack and on the road.  First stop is Briare’s Office of Tourism for information about the canal path.  Spend two euro on a map that looks like it goes exactly where we want to go.  The tourism lady is awesomely helpful and we both comment later that she would be a wonderful addition to Gregory’s CB Ski trip.  We encounter some difficulty deciphering which of the two available white rocked paths is correct but Gregory asks a fisherman, who sets us straight.


We are ON the Path!  It is beautiful, quiet, serene, deserted, perfect and completely appreciated.  At some point it changes into a paved road with light traffic but the map indicates it switches back and forth for the duration and we are ever so grateful that it’s nothing like the highway.  A stop for treats (for now) and baguettes (for lunch) gives me the chance to catch up the writing.

We continue until near Sancerre because our map thinks there is camping almost directly on the trail.  However, like the last place we stopped at because the map said there was camping, it is either nonexistent or closed for the season.  A helpful Frenchman out biking with his children, directs us to a perfect flat space suitable for pitching the tent, very near to the canal where his and several other houseboats are currently docked.  We set up the tents in no time flat, I think we are almost pros at this, despite the light drizzle that seems to be settling in.  Read and rest until dinner.  Once dark falls, we try to watch two different movies but I keep falling asleep so in bed by 10, one exhausted girl and a boy who claims not to be that tired.

October 3 ~Wake up around 9.  During breakfast we hear some nearby gunshot and some whistling and/or bell ringing.  Just beyond the hedge covered fence, we see at least one hunter with a shotgun.  So very glad we DIDN’T camp in that field last night.  A short time later a shot rings out much closer and later still we hear several shots in a row.  Gregory thinks there must be a shotgun range nearby.  Just a typical Sunday morning in the French countryside.  Decide to walk into town for baguettes and maybe reading at a café.  Town is small and we follow a one way street the long way around thinking the center of town is bigger.  First we stop at a bar right on the corner of the busiest (read only) street in the center of town.  Not exactly the best reading spot so abandon it for a quiet little patio space at a hotel with restaurant around the corner.  Much better for reading and even some talking.  As I write this we are trying to decide if we should lunch here then have our baguette for dinner or be cheap and go back to the tent for both.  End up sneakily eating our baguette at the restaurant and reading until they close up for the late afternoon.  The walk home turns into watching the tag end of the local rugby game.  I think we won, but it was difficult to tell who was home team and who was away.

October 4 ~Rain, Rain, Rain.  We start to pack up because it seems like the sun is coming then it starts to sprinkle so we pause and walk to town for bread.  NOTHING is open!  Not the cafe, Not the bakery, Not even the hotel with restaurant from the day before.  Gregory asks at an insurance office and they direct us to the next town.  Start long walk on foot to next town.  As with all our trips into the unknown, getting there always takes longer than getting back.  Our initial desire to just get lunch and return to the tent is completely overwhelmed when we realize we can stock up on food for the next couple of day.  Of course, by the time we finish buying groceries, the café is closed for the afternoon*.  Trek back home, stopping for our now standard baguette for lunch sandwiches.  Back at the tent, it seems sunny enough to finish our previous packing and get on the road even if only for a couple of miles.  Once more it starts to sprinkle but we press on.

*That is something so strange to me, that restaurants are open for lunch, closed for the late afternoon and early evening and reopen for dinner.  It’s not that I don’t understand the need for it, I’m just an American used to getting food whenever I damn well please!

The road is easy and we don’t get very far but progress is progress.  Yet again we are led astray as our map says something wonderful is just around the corner.  This time a youth hostel in Herry.  We abandon the path and begin the search.  I thought it was near to the path, but Gregory and the map say otherwise.  After wandering in the drizzle, we end up at a tennis court where the available locals say NO youth hostel.  However, they are willing to lead us to a ‘nearby’ bed and breakfast, IF we can keep up with their car.  Gregory does admirably and I just keep pedaling until I catch up.  The B&B doesn’t really look open and the sign says 70 euro a night so we think we’ll pass.  Gregory asserts that he saw a sign someways back and we head there.  Even if it’s the same price, it’s closer to the road and the town.  Gregory is right, there was a sign, it’s only 45 per night and it’s much more inviting as it’s essentially the spare room of a family home.  Super friendly couple goes so far as to garage our bikes overnight, even though Gregory and I don’t think it’s necessary.

October 5 ~Good nights sleep and breakfast at 8 with no real packing makes for a really early start.  Head back to the path which is great for a little bit, when suddenly it disappears completely.  Well, the path doesn’t but the signage for it does.  Glad we are fresh and aware.  It is quite rainy or drizzly for a significant part of the morning but we easily make it to Nevers by 3 or 4.  Check into a ‘cheap’ hotel and walk around some looking for a sporting goods store or a book store.  Find them stacked on top of each other.  Sports store doesn’t have better rain pants than I already have.  Book store is not much better off with only about eight books in English.  Choose two only to remember that I hate paying for books, especially when I have at least one in my pack to trade.  Indian food for dinner and it’s the best since San Francisco but my love for Chai means no sleeping girl so write this then internet until tired and hope that tomorrow doesn’t arrive too early.

October 6 ~I force us out of the hotel and away from the internet to explore Nevers.  Visit the cathedral which has strange modern stained glass due to the destruction of the original glass in ’44.  Wander the town until lunch, where we decide we will head back to our hotel to trim and re-dye my hair.  *Who does your hair?  Point to Gregory “He does!”  More Indian food for dinner but less Chai followed but beginning the series 4400 until tiredness kicks in.

October 7 ~On the road by 10 or so and it’s easier that just out of Paris, cause it’s NOT on a highway but it’s very rough terrain on an unpaved road held to varying degrees of maintenance.  Arrive in Decize and Gregory is buying groceries while I catch up the days.  Next we find out if the camping shown on the map is real or not.  *Rough relationship day as this is the day Gregory tries to help me improve my pedaling power.  I resist because it’s just about the worst terrain we’ve biked and I feel like I’m doing good to make forward progress.

Camping CLOSED!  Apparently the French don’t believe in camping in the Fall.

Things I forgot to write about today

This picture is actually from when
he fell AGAIN on the 12th,
 but I didn't write about that
 one for some reason.

*Gregory fell.  HARD.  I’m not exactly sure what happened but he has strained or sprained his right forefinger and it’s beginning to swell, making it hard to change gears although it’s not that necessary right now.

*We played leap frog with a boat.  They get stuck at the locks and we would pass them.  Then we’d stop to rest, snack or rehydrate and they’d pass us.  They always called out to us when they saw us so it brought a smile to my face that the rough path couldn’t completely remove.  Eventually we passed them and then left the canal path, but it was fun while it lasted.

*I love and trust Gregory, despite how I might act sometimes.

*Still no signs of our path but I think the map calls it provisional.  Although I just looked up provisional I have to say… “I do not think it means what you think it means.’  I’m guessing they mean it’s there but not paved and quite ready for the average cycling tourist.  Fortunately we are just a little bit more hard core … or is that stubborn, I confuse the two sometimes.

*The days are very blendy right now.  I think we are both tired of cycling but neither of us will say *Stop*.  Need to have a real conversation about it, sooner rather than later.

*Despite being half of a partnership, I don’t think I pull my weight and I feel like Gregory agrees with this but won’t say anything.  How much of this is real or just fears, I don’t know.  I do seem content to just float along in life.  Right now Gregory is in the tourism office trying to figure out OUR next move while I sit outside content with whatever decision he makes.  Theoretically, I’m guarding the bikes but how crucial is that really.  I don’t know how to show him that I appreciate him and ALL that he does, I don’t think that words are enough.

*I LOVE dogs.  They make me smile when everything else in the world seems impossible.

Find a hotel in Decize, where we have some of the above conversations and reconnect with each other.

Things I Am Looking Forward To… Heading Home Edition

Originally I posted this to FaceBook and then as I was working on Things I Will Miss… Leaving the Road Edition (currently still in the writing) I came to realize these were indeed blog posts.  As you can see, I left them unfinished with the idea to add to them, so maybe that's why I thought they were OK for FB and unworthy of Blog status.  However, I don't know IF I will add anything more to either one so I'm not going to tell you to watch this space in anticipation of more insights.  Either way, I thought they were good exercises in appreciation both for the things that I've experienced and for the things I yearn for.

1. Showers!  For as long and as hot as I can stand it.

2. My own BED!  Oh bed, I’ve missed you so much.  I hope you’ve misses me too.  I can’t wait to be back in your soft warm embrace.  I can almost feel the weight of you pressed against me in ALL the right places.  I’m even bringing you back some custom made Moroccan lingerie.  I hope I got your size right.

3. Hugs!  Tons and Tons of hugs.  Not to insinuate that other people in the world don't hug, but really for the most part they don't.  I'm not talking about your run of the mill back pattin' hug.  I'm talking about fully enveloping, melt into the moment, you are exactly where you need to be, never let go hugs from the people I consider family.

4. Family!  I have the most wonderful family in the whole world.  My loving parents and wonderful bother.  My wonderfully eccentric aunts, uncles and cousins.  Every single member of Gregory's family who have not only accepted me with open arms, but have let me steal him away from them for a whole year.  And of course my chosen family, who are all the more wonderful because they love me for me, not just because they have to.

5. Mexican Food!  A weekly (or more) staple of my routine that has been sadly missing for the last 52+ weeks.  Chips, Salsa and Exceptional Queso, Refried Beans, Sour Cream, Warm Corn Tortillas, Sizzling Fajita Meat, Guacamole (the kind that's just Avocados, Garlic and Spice!) and Cheese Enchiladas.  All the SPICY I can handle.

6. Clothes!  Well not so much clothes but the variety that allows me more (and less) than 2 pairs of pants, 4 shirts, 4 pairs of socks, and 2 pairs of undies.  The clothes I have had this year have held up great and have continued to look good all year.  BUT, I'm ready for a change.  I'm ready for, among other things, skin tight blue jeans (I even dreamed about them!), nice button up shirts and a variety of shoes...

7. OMG Shoes!  No this didn't turn into a crappy Rick Roll.  My one year old + cross trainers have just about given up the ghost.  They have almost no tread and despite their truly wonderful drab functionality, I'm ready for a little bit of Foot (tr)Action.

8. Poi Practice and Fire Spinning!  Unlike Gregory, who can spin at any time.  I require quiet near uninterrupted space and time to practice.  It's also handy to have some friends around to tell me what looks good and what still needs work helps too!

9. POPCORN!  Whenever, where ever and however I want it.

10. Chocolate Milk!  Icy cold, chocolatey rich, what else is there to say.

These are just a handful of the things I can think of right now.  I will update it as I think of new Things!

And Then There Was Paris...

August 26, 2010 to September 18, 2010

The Photos

*I don’t know if I’m going to keep up the daily journal.  Gregory wants me to (as well as some blog readers), but it will completely depend on if I can make it a consistent habit, like before bed or something.*

August 26 ~ Three Ducks ... worst hostel EVER!  Crap room, next to patio.  Loud voices until after 2:30.  My bed is basically fine (I’ve slept on better AND worse!), but poor Gregory had two low spots.  We still find it odd that the French don’t seem to believe in breakfast, only coffee and a croissant, and it makes me wonder how they get anything accomplished.  Of note Gregory wants me to lead using the GPS more.  I’m afraid that I wear out too easily but we agree to try to find a second bike cradle for the GPS so that either bike can lead at any time.  Quick run by Jordan’s to fix my handlebars, I think if I can just STOP dropping my bike I will have less problems.  Using a Google maps to GPX import tool I found online, we create a trail to a very busy campground.  Once we get there we are unable to check in for at least an hour and a half and the line waiting is incredibly long.  However, once we check in, we get a great spot in the back corner near the spillway which produces a wonderfully lulling white noise.  We easily nap the afternoon away.

NOT Actual Size

Upon, awaking we decide to have dinner at the camp restaurant rather than bike ‘into town’.  We end up have a weird, over priced Salmon Pizza (don’t ask me, I was happy with the idea of a Margherita pizza, which in France is just an American cheese pizza).  Anyway, we’ve about decided on showers and more sleep, despite the lack of sleepiness at the moment, when the fellow sitting next to Gregory comments on the Tome he is reading.  The official title The Secret Teachings of All Ages: An Encyclopedic Outline of Masonic, Hermetic, Qabbalistic and Rosicrucian Philosophy is more than interesting enough to catch Michele’s eye.  This starts a long wonderful conversation with him and his friend Marco, both from Parma, Italy.  We talk about our trip so far and their recently finished walk about of the Normandy Coast, our non specific plans of Paris exploration and their completed and planned Parisian attractions, our more solid plan to visit Italy and their warning about Italian drivers and bicycles.  An energizing conversation that eventually ends as we decide on showers and they head to bed as they have their last day of exploring tomorrow.  We find out they are camped in the same area as us and I hope to talk with them again before they leave.

August 27 ~ Waste almost all day napping, but then it might not be a waste as we seem to have really needed it.  Bike to Jordan and Annie’s for Veggie Taco Dinner and our first macaroons.  Gregory and Jordan have so much catching up to do and it is very late by the time we head back home directly through ‘les bois de bordel' *not their official title.  Paris has two pleasant woods (not big enough to be called forests) on either side of the city centre.  They are called the lungs of Paris and they are filled with paths and trails good for walking and biking.  They are also filled with prostitutes.  I don’t seem to appreciate their presence nearly as much as Gregory does so once he adds his two cents, you’ll possibly gain the same sense of awe (or derision) we felt as we happened upon their territory, despite Jordan’s low-down on their probable presence.

August 28 ~ Late to bed means late to rise.  We finally crawl out of our tent around 10.  Michele and Marco have left already and I wish I’d had the chance to say good-bye.  Wander up to the cafe for weak coffee and watery hot chocolate.  We talk to a group of girls from Dublin who are here for a 3 day music festival.     It sounds cool, but for some reason we can’t fathom what would make that trip worth it.  Maybe we are getting old.  This festival is the reason for there being so many people filling this Parisian campground.  Head back to the tent for planning out the rest of the day and find a beautiful note from Michele.  A tickle fight and a movie cap the afternoon.  Gregory goes to call Jordan about a possible movie tonight while I write out the last couple of the days.  Hard to documentate when you’re sleeping!  Movie is a no go and we are without plan for the remainder of our day.  Go on a completely directionless bike ride which ends up at the Eiffel Tower.

August 29 ~ Today we get our apartment.  Twenty days of luxury after twenty-five days of roughing it … er, I mean camping.  Tear down camp and pack up.  Arrive an hour and a half early to check out the neighborhood.  A half naked French woman notices us from her balcony and spends the next several minutes singing and generally letting us know that she is loony tunes.  In our haste (and lack of internet for the last couple of days) I have neglected to get the numeric code that lets us into the building.  Once our 3:00 appointment time comes and then goes, I trudge off to find internet and the code, so that we are at least waiting in the right spot rather than looking homeless on the street.  I come back and enter the four digits, just as Gregory and our landlady are disappearing from the foyer.  Our initial impression of the space is that it is SMALL, but on second opinion it is pretty amazing.  It is essentially one room with a tiny kitchen and decent sized bathroom, but it has a lofted bed area over the bathroom and kitchen which leaves mom the downstairs room once she arrives.

I get a great haircut...
promptly re-dye it purple!
I’m back to being the
 Purple French Mushroom...
in Paris even.

September 5 ~ No writing for SEVEN days.  I’d like to say we were exploring the city ... but we haven’t really.  Blazing fast internet at the apartment makes us think that either Paris is the centre of the intertubes or Parisians just don’t spend their time online.  In the time not written about we have had dinner with Jordan and Annie again.  They came to see our ‘janitor’s quarters’ as Jordan pronounces it and we have a tasty Lebanese dinner at a place nearby.

Now, sitting in a cafe near the Louvre there is too much noise to write or think so more later (I hope!)

I have to look at photos to attempt to remember even a portion of the last couple of days.  We have dinner with Thomas, a CouchSurfer we met in Dallas through Boarhead, a year prior.  Thomas was in the States working on his American People Project.  We find out that while he was an inspiration to our attempts at better fire spinning photos, we were part of the inspiration for his current art style, Photo Composites.  Wonderful moment of realized inspiration surrounded by great conversations about life and art.

Oh, and as you can tell from some of the photos, my mother has arrived.  This is momentous and beyond my imaginings.  Initially I thought she was arriving on the second, but silly me that’s when she was leaving Dallas.  She landed in Paris on the third at about 9 in the morning.  It takes her just enough time getting to the apartment that I’ve started to worry, but she shows up just fine.  We get her settled in and then wander out for some small explorations and some lunch.  We decide to share two Plat de Jour’s, one starter and meal and one meal and desert.  Despite our utter lack of French (well mom and I had some in college, but that was longer ago than either of us likes to think about) mom knows just enough to suss out that the entrée is rabbit.  It was remarkable tasty and absolute proof positive that mom is NOT in Texas anymore.  We buy groceries for some of my favorite ‘home cooked’ meals and decide on Hamburger Mushroom Gravy over Potatoes.  It was delicious although not exactly the same as at home.

*Gregory distinctly remembers a moment that reminds him that neither me or my mother has traveled out of the United States before when after looking at a menu my mom says “Now I understand how hard it must be for foreigners to come to America."

We wake up super early for our scheduled tourist activity, the City Segway Tour.  Brisk walk to the Eiffel Tower where we wait for our tour guide and fellow tourists.  Seth arrives on Segway and is a great mix of my brother’s humor and all the geeky boys I miss from back home.  His humorous take on French history and his witty repartee make the day speed by.  Gregory and I are initially worried about mom being able to handle the new technology of Segwaying, but she masters it tout suite.  I, however, learn the hard and painful way that Segways and dirt paths are not BFF.  In fact, they seem to be more the hair pulling, shirt shredding, scratching, biting, slapping enemies that we all remember from cat fights in High School.  Put into simpler terms, the mechanism of the Segway works great on concrete and other hard surfaces, but the same mechanism that makes it work is completely counter intuitive on dirt … wait a minute that wasn’t any simpler.  What I’m trying to say is that when the Segway feels like it’s not getting the traction it needs, it automatically speeds up the wheels, which is a lot like spinning out in loose gravel with your car.

*Now let me state for the record, that Gregory feels I was fooling around inappropriately on said device which led to my eventual literal downfall.  However, in my defense I say that I was merely monkey see, monkey doing what he was doing.

Right or wrong, I fell … hard.  Gregory stops, helps me up, dusts me off, rinses my hands and we are about to try to catch up with the group when here comes the cavalry!  Eight Segways come charging back, led by Seth and my mother.  One of the girls had seen me fall and rode ahead to tell them I was down.  Scraped palms and bruised ego aside, the tour was marvelous and Segways are great fun.

Once back at headquarters, we get food recommendations, including a Pho restaurant to fill in mom’s Cold Noodle Bowl card.  Hobble walk to a nearby cafe for coffee and eclairs before heading home to rest, change clothes and re-bandage my hand.  The fabric bandages that mom brought, because she’s Mom, immediately became ‘handy.’  After resting, we take a substantial walk, back to the Eiffel Tower, over the Pont d’Léna, through the Jardins du Trocadéro and over to the Palais de Chaillot.  Despite all the signage and mom’s shuttle driver pointing it out repeatedly on her ride that morning, we were never really sure what we were looking for in our search for the Trocadéro.  We decide on dinner in China Town and take our first Metro ride over to find mom’s Cold Noodle Bowl.  The place we were directed to had at least a 30 minute line out the door and we were all hungry more than 30 minutes ago.  Along the way, mom had perused several menus to see if she could find the elusive CNB.  Fortunately, she knew the Vietnamese word for what she wanted (Bun Thit, if you are curious) so we doubled back to a restaurant with immediate seating.  Mom and I got Bun Thit and Gregory got random Ginger Chicken with rice (on the server’s recommendation).

After dinner, we Metro home for sleep and a lazy morning.  The first Sunday of the month is Free Museum Entry day and despite being warned off by Seth from the Segway Tour, we decided to give it a shot.  Using the Metro entrance, saved us a ton of wait time and we got in nearly straight away.  Although Gregory is the main one that wanted to see the Louvre, we really only saw the things my mother was interested in, such as the Napoleanic Apartments and the Flemish, German and Dutch painters.  Gregory may go back to see other stuff, but I think he would prefer finding a modern art museum.

Suddenly the writing stopped.  The day to day activities took precedence over blogging.  The touristic whirlwind caught us in its might and dropped us at random points around the city.  We dragged my poor mother up to the highest reachable point of the Eiffel Tower, it was nerve wracking for her but she did it!  We also dragged her to the lowest depths of the Catacombs, she found it outré.  We watched her explore a cemetery.  We day tripped to Versailles, where we were all stunned by the overwhelming, over the top opulence. We saw Notre Dame but found more enjoyment watching a man feed the pigeons nearby.  I know we walked and walked and walked all over the town, sometimes with a purpose, but most times without.

Then saddest of days,
my mother flew back home.