Arrived!

Dear faithful readers (and to those of you unfaithful as well),

We are in the warmth of Puerto Vallarta and it is pure bliss! All went smoothly on the flight, after security confiscated my large tube of Crest Toothpaste! My own fault as I thoughtlessly decided on the large economy size! However, after that confrontation (actually you could tell by the TSA guy's expression that he thought it was dumb as well. Anyway, non-stop to PV, arrived 15 minutes early. We plodded through passport control and then were whisked by a Mexican Skycap (Sky Sombrero?) to a taxi and were on our way to the apartment by 5:05 p.m. Unfortunately our landlords had decided to meet us (they sent an e-mail to confirm after we left Portland). So they made an unnecessary trip, we spent 30 dollars and then sat waiting for their return. All was forgiven, but I do feel we owe them a dinner at some point.

We lugged the bags up the hill and then up the long flight of steps. It was then that we were reminded that we were a year older than when we did this last time. We may have to rent a burro if we return next year. Anyway, we also realized we had not eaten all day, so we passed on the immediate unpacking (which will give you a sense of how hungry Polley was. She always unpacks first!

We went out a got a few necessaries for morning, coffee and sugar, and a little wine for whenever and then started to hunt for a place to eat. It was then we realized how tired we were and we headed for an Italian place we had been to a couple of times last year. Had half of the pizza, a couple of Coronas and head back up the hill. It was THEN we seemed revitalized and the unpacking commenced. Finally gave up about 10 p.m., about 19 hours after rising. Awoke to a beautiful, warm monring. We heard the comforting sounds of PV, the roosters, the donkies and the church bells. Slept until 8:20, which for those of you who know us, is unheard of. But, all the cares, concerns, contentions and confrontations were apparently abandoned as we touched down in Mexico. We will try to keep you updated and we will attempt to be fascinating, at least part of the time.

Sort of missing those we love,

Ed and Polley

The Adventure Continues!

One and all,

It is about 5 a.m on Tuesday, December 30th and we are just 3 hours from leaving for Mexico. Thank God! December was a very long month. We are ready, as I am sure you all are, for a change. While I hate to gloat (Well, I am not sure I hate it, but really do try to resist it), we are making the change. We catch a non-stop flight at 10:20 this morning (of course, we've been up since 3 a.m -- and this is with being pretty well organized) for Puerto Vallarta and will be back at our old haunt, looking forward to doing the dishes in the shower. We will be there all the month of January and then move over to Guadalajara on February 1st. Home on March 1st.

We do have a Skype number again, however, it is not the same one we had last year. You can reach us with just a local call to (503) 928-7476. There is voice mail so if we are at the beach, we promise to get back to you.

It has been interesting in our anticipating the trip. Last year I couldn't understand people wanting to return to the same place again and again. However, I must confess a certain excitement in going back and seeing friends and locals that we met last year. People come and go so much in PV, that I am certain some people will not realize that a year has gone by and just greet us as though we'd been gone a week or two.

I am going to try to treat the blog a bit differently this go-around. I am going to treat it more like a daily diary. Perhaps not as many photos and short entries, but I will try to be more regular (and at my age that becomes increasingly more difficult). As with any traveling, we look forward to the people, but the hard part is that in traveling, it is also the people we miss. We will think of you all and wish you the best for the New Year. I will work to keep in touch through this blog and I hope you will make contact from time-to-time as well.

Love,

Ed and Polley

Toulouse (too loose) Ends

This will be an evolving blog as we come down to our last week in Toulouse. I begin to look back at the hundreds of photographs we have taken and the myriad of experiences that have occurred. This is probably the last of my French blogs and it is merely a series of “random” thoughts about the last two months in this lovely southern French city. The thoughts come as I look back at the things we have enjoyed, but that have not previously fit neatly into a journal entry.

Our goal in coming here was to see if we could live our lives as the everyday French do in this town. While it may surprise some, we didn’t come to be tourists, we came to be French. Sadly, in terms of the language, we have not been overly successful We understand a great deal more and have picked up the rhythms of French, but have not been very quick to respond. However, we have no hesitation at going into a store, or restaurant, knowing we will manage. We have established good relationships with a fellow I call "Monsieur Fromage" at the marché. Also with a number of very nice waiters. Financially, this has also been an important part of staying within our budget. This last Friday night we discovered a new creperie which turned out of the excellent. Upon arriving, we soon realized that we were the only non-French in the place. That has been the way it has been most of the time. While we did some traveling to more touristy areas, it was mainly in the name of visiting friends or friends of friends.

We went to Paris to reunite with Geneviéve;

and who could forget the view from her 32nd floor apartment


we ventured to Montpellier to meet with Natacha’s sister:


and in our last train trip, now more than a week ago, we went to hours west to the town of Pau, to have lunch with Françoise Willmot, the mother of our landlord, Ariane Zambiras. It was not a particularily lovely day, but the company was divine.


We had a wonderful lunch, strolled about the town and then Françoise had us to her home. This was the place both she and Ariane grew up. It was an amazing series of rooms from what was once a a 17th century hotel. Every inch of the place was covered with family treasures and we were especially taken with the wonderful paintings done by Françoise’s father. He was truly a talented man.

For those who know us well, they will not be surprised that we developed attachments to a number of local watering holes. There was hardly a day that we didn’t spend an hour sitting and watching the world pass by at the Capitole, sitting in a front row chair of the Café Albert.

It finally got to the point that our arrival automatically signaled the appearance of a half-liter of white wine!

We enjoyed the deluge at a place called Papagayo,

where the waiter was very taken with Polley (Surprise, Surprise!).


We became friends with the owner of the place called Evangelina.


It was a very hip place; hardly the sort of place we would ordinarily be drawn to, but the owner was quite charming, spoke very good English from his time in Canada and Miami. It was a very fancy place that was near by, which was convenient on those rainy evenings when walking didn't seem very attractive. He had gutted an old building and then very dramatically designed the whole interior.

It was a nice place for a drink, although the food was somewhat disappointing.

Laundry day was always a time I looked forward. We would take a suitcase and a pillowcase full of dirty clothes to the "Laverie" about half a mile away. We chose this particular laundromat because of its proximity the Cafe des Facultés.

We would dump the clothes in and when we returned to the cafe our half a litre of Colombard was sitting on our table. Delightful help and a very interesting university crowd at lunch

And on many of the really pleasant evenings, we watched French life float by us at Le Wallace on the beautiful Place Sainte Georges.


It was there, I think that we came to appreciate real sense of a formal occasion. People, regardless of age, greet each person, individually. The shake of a hand, the kiss on both cheeks always occurs, regardless of the number around the table. A new person arrives, conversation stops and greetings commence. There seems to be a real appreciation of time here. People take two hours for lunch; sit for an unlimited amount of time after work or school. When you go to dinner in France, you plan to stay for the whole evening. As we had little to do, we were able to adapt to and value this style of life. It may be more common here in the south than in Paris, but regardless, it is still very much a part of life.

Of course, on Dimanche (Sunday) Toulouse closes up everywhere. Supermarkets, department stores, everything, but those places in the very heart of the tourist district, is closed. Including all our favorite drinking spots. So we are forced to spend an hour or so at Le Cactus.

In French, of course, this become Le Cactuuuu. I think we just enjoy saying the name in French, but the place also has live music on Sunday evenings. And, because it is the only place open, it also draws an interesting crowd. At watching people is our favorite form of entertainment.

Life in Toulouse, not just for us, but for most everyone, revolves around La Place Capitole. It is the Pioneer Court House Square of Toulouse. I grabbed this photo opportunity on day, because the Capitole is always never empty.

It is constantly being transformed. Last night it had a large screen television displaying the Heiniken Rugby Finals from Wales. Toulouse playing Munster, Ireland. Sadly we lost. On Tuesday and Saturday there is marché, nearly eveyday there is a flea market, and then other days it becomes a center for various activities.

On day it was filled with plants and there was an elaborate garden show



Another time it was set up for mini-soccer games for kids


And it is always a lovely spot to be in the evening

The city does a great job promoting it as a gathering place.

One view from our seats at the Cafe Albert that I never tired of was that of Sainte Sernin, the church at the end of Rue de Taur.


I hate to tell you how many pictures I have of it, because regardless of how many times I saw it, it struck me as new again


One day Polley and I were sitting at Cafe Albert during the noon hour, when a bunch of guys came by, leading a fellow in a wild wig, shorts, garters and hose, with high heels. It turns out that he was about to be married. A custom is to drag the groom-to-be through the streets begging the general public to feel sorry for him and contribute to his honeymoon. Of course, I had to contribute.



I also will think about the ever changing view from our apartment balcony. It was not always crowded, but always interesting. We would look out on the Place D'Europe and see skateboarders, frisbee players and, our favorite, numerous unicyclists, this fellow being among the the best


The carnival came to town for a month and set up camp on the Place.

The weather, unfortunately, failed to cooperate, and today they are packing up and moving on. It had to be a very disappointing month.

Other memorable moments, will be our nearly daily visit to the Marché, an outdoor market that now seems to be operating in one form or another every day of the week.

Beyond the grande marché, there are numerous neighborhood outdoor markets and there is a wonderful indoor market at Carme that became a favorite of ours, largely for the wonderous selection of olives.

A Perfect Example Of Why We Love To Travel “ Le Deluge de Toulouse”

Last nite, about 9:30, we left the apartment to go have a glass of wine [well OK, half a litre, but who’s counting] at Papagayo, a restaurant about a half mile from where we live.

It was looking a bit threatening, but it had been like that all day, so we didn’t even take the umbrella [The kiss of death, as we should have known]. When we got there, we decided to sit outside under the awning and watch the people go by. The waiter brought us our wine, and we sat chatting and watching the sun set on some pretty dramatic clouds, and eavesdropping on 3 people sitting behind us in the restaurant, whom we thought were speaking English – You don’t hear much English spoken in Toulouse, so it caught our attention. We had been there, maybe 45 minutes when the waiter came out to us and said “`A deux minutes, ??????????????” – we couldn’t understand the last word, so he ran into the restaurant, to the people we thought were British, and spoke to one of them. The man turned around to us and said “ Apocalypse”! Which was exactly what the waiter had said to us. It’s the same word in French, but pronounced differently, so we didn’t recognize it. Sure enough, 2 minutes later, the heavens opened.

We haven’t seen a thunderstorm like that since we were in Wisconsin Lightening and thunder following each other so immediately that we knew the storm was directly over us, pouring rain – the street was a river in minutes – and hail as big as marbles.



For, maybe, 10 minutes we continued sitting outside, under the awning, but eventually the wind picked up and the awning was leaking, so we fled inside the café and [yes, you guessed it] ordered another glass of wine, because it was obvious that we weren’t going anywhere, anytime soon!

We sat down at a table for two not far from the three people whom we had thought were speaking English. We struck up a conversation and found that the older couple was British, and lived in the Lake District, and the other man
[the one whom the waiter had asked about “Apocalypse”] is a university professor who teaches English here in Toulouse. And here comes the “woo, woo” part: Until 2 years ago, he was an internationally known opera singer. At that time he was diagnosed with cancer, and went through a year of treatment. He is now doing well, but the problem is that once you get off the opera circuit, it’s very difficult to get back on again, so now he is teaching English in Toulouse. It turns out that he sang with the Toulouse Opera Company 6 years ago and fell in love with the town; so much so that 4 years ago he purchased a home here. He told us that Toulouse is the #1 opera company in France, after Paris. How about that opera connection just popping up out of nowhere?

Now, while we’re having this conversation [and, incidentally, discovering that we are all huge Monty Python fans,] it’s continuing to rain buckets, and because the front of the restaurant is still wide open, the water is being driven across the restaurant floor all the way to where we are sitting, about 25 feet from the front. The waiter kept sweeping it out, but it just kept coming in again. At some point we said to him, “Le deluge, eh?” A French, as well as English word that we know, not from studying French, but from history! King Louis 15’s motto was, “Apres moi, le deluge” and he wasn’t kidding.


To make a long story interminable, the violent part of the storm only lasted about 30 minutes or so, and by 9:30 we were saying our goodbyes, hoping to run into each other again, and heading back to our apartment.


Today, [Friday] the Toulouse newspaper was full of the story, using words like “Apocalypse” and “Deluge” What an amazing evening!

Ed and Polley

PS – On Friday night, as we were on our way home from the Capitole, it started to rain , so we again stopped at the Papagayo, to get under the awning. The Papagayo faces west and the sun was just starting to set.


It was a very dramatic sky, so Ed photographed the entire process.


Pretty soon, the waiter came out to tell us that the people to whom he was serving dinner inside the restaurant wondered aloud why Ed was taking “the same picture over and over” “Because,” the waiter told them, “It’s not the same picture.” Then he sang, “Dee dee dee dee, Dee dee dee dee” – The theme from “The Twilight Zone” !

Quel Désastre!

For all of you who have been anxiously awaiting the next installment of our Paris trip, please let me apologize. I have sworn that I was not doing any hard work on this trip, and suddenly a blog recounting the events of our last day in Paris looked like very hard work. It also may have been that is was such a frustrating day, that I had a difficult time bringing myself to the idea of reliving it. So, I will make this short, but I do ask you to envision a disaster that went on for nearly 5 hours.

At the end of our evening with Geneviéve, she insisted that we meet the next day at Luxembourg Gardens on the left bank in Paris. As we understood it, we were to meet at 10 a.m. at the Metro station, Sainte Michel, which is at the end of Boulevard Sainte Michel. From there we would walk to the Gardens. Polley and I left at 9:30, arriving at the Metro station a few minutes early (surprise, surprise!). The place was jammed with Parisians and even more tourists. It was a bright, lovely morning and all of Paris was outside! We waited . . . and no Geneviéve. We waited some more . . . no Geneviéve. I walked the mile or more to the Gardens . . into the Gardens . . . all around the Gardens. Then I walked back to Metro Sainte Michel. Polley had waited there . . . no Geneviéve. Finally, at 11:30 a.m., we decided we must go back to the Hotel and see if we had any message. Another part of this disaster was that the minutes on our French cell phone had expired, so we had no direct communication.

Upon arriving back at the hotel, there was no message. This seemed very strange. It was now noon. As our minds began to search for an explanation, we decided that what we thought was “dix heures (10 a.m.),” must have been “douze heures (12 p.m.),” so she had not called because we were not really that late – yet. So back in the Metro and back to Sainte Michel. Another hour goes by, more walking, more searching – nothing. By 1:30, we are at the end of options, so back on the Metro and back to the Hotel. We walk into the lobby of the Hotel and the manager says that she called 5 minutes after we left the last time. We use the Hotel phone to call her on her “portable.” She has been looking for us since 10 that morning as well. She is still waiting. She instructs us to meet her at the main entrance of the Luxembourg Gardens. We get back on the Metro, taking it this time to Luxembourg Gardens Metro station.

When we got off at Luxembourg, we walked several blocks to the main gates of the Gardens. . . nothing, no Geneviéve. I then thought I would walk up to the plaza that fronts the Gardens, another several blocks . . . nothing! I then headed back to Polley . . . nothing! Back to the plaza . . . nothing! Back to Polley . . . nothing! Finally, in desperation, I begged, in French, with a kid to let me borrow his “portable” so I could call Geneviéve and find out where she was. 15 minutes later, at about 2:30 in the afternoon (5 hours after the adventure began), we found each other. Geneviéve had been doing the same thing we had been doing. Walking between Sainte Michel and the Gardens. How we had missed each other, we will never know. And the fact that she had stuck with, was amazing. Frustrated, embarrassed, and tired, we sat and had lunch and eventually laughed about it over a bottle of wine and a couple of Croque Madames! The only saving grace, was that it was a glorious day and all of France was outside.

Following lunch, we did take time to stroll about the Gardens.

As I said, it was a beautiful day. We just strolled about, first passing the Palais du Luxembourg


As you can see, the flowers were brightly in bloom




I particularly liked this one, as when one stepped back, the girl's hair and suitcase perfectly matched


Geneviéve, who also is a wonderful photographer, was our guide as we wandered the grounds. She is also a real card, as you can judge from her serious moment here with The Thinker


Most of what we did was to visit the array of sculpture the Gardens offer




Some quite recognizable: The Statue of Liberty, dedicated to the victims of 9/11


Others of various periods and subjects




This one is of an actor, if you couldn't tell:


The one thing that was quite amazing was that primarily at the Gardens, you are not allowed on the lawn. Chairs are set up in the walkways and people sit and look out at the lawns and flowers, and sculptures. Occasionally there is a fountain or two. However, there is one area, called the Pelouse, where we people can sit on the ground and, as you can see there was barely an inch of ground to spare:



It was truly a wonderful late afternoon. All the misunderstandings, and missed opportunities were forgiven and forgotten, as you can see from this picture of Polley and Geneviéve


As always with Geneviéve, she insisted on driving us back to the hotel and we all insisted that this was not goodbye, but simply à bientôt!