Paris, France

Three alarms went off at 4 am in the Paris flat because we didn’t want to miss our train to Saint Jean PdP. We just needed our coffee, and to dress. My pack was ready, but Norm had a few things to put away. We were out and speeding by taxi for Montparnasse before the sun was up. We were at the train station terrifically early so I had a croissant as soon as the tea stalls opened, but Norm was fussy about the pasties so wouldn’t eat. It was a hurry up and wait situation, but time will pass so we were soon on board the first train, which would terminate in Dax. The trip was long, fast and comfortable. I noticed by 8 am Norm was munching on his sandwich. I ate mine around 10, which feels like lunchtime if you’re up at 4. Then we had another wait, only this time when our number came up on the departures board it wasn’t a platform number at all. It was a little bus icon so that’s how we found out we’d be switched to a bus. The bus was there, but the driver was vague with us. “Je n’ parle pas Frances” said I, and the driver said, “y mi non” or so it seemed. Anyway, there were some clues, our number on the ticket matched the number on a sign on the windshield of the bus, and our ticket and the bus sported the same logo. The bus took us to Bayonne, where Norm said, “Just wait, it will be another bus.” Again the clues were there, only this time it was the crowd of pilgrims, all with their regulation backpacks, just hanging around the bus station trying to look cool but also looking confused. There was no other way to be, because there wasn’t a lot of information. Three buses came and we crowded each one, but the third was our bus. It was a lovely magical ride to Saint Jean PdP passing many a scene that I recognized from books and the Internet. Soon it became clear as mud why we were on the bus, because we passed several crews working on rebuilding the railroad. I felt some waves of sadness, because I was here, realizing a dream, but the reality didn’t match quite enough. I wanted to be on my way to Santiago, but really we will stop at Burgos after 2 weeks. I wanted the full challenge of the pilgrimage but had made a compromise with Norm which I was regretting. We found our bed and breakfast at last. It’s beautiful, and we showered then set to work rearranging our gear. We now have our packs set up to hike, I washed my socks and travel clothes in the sink, and we have what we don’t need in the rolling bags to be sent ahead to Burgos. We went into the village for a stroll and I bought our shells. We ate a pilgrim’s meal at Chez Eduardo’s – soup, fried chicken, French fries and cake. We looked at all the lovely things to buy, and lamented that as pilgrims we shouldn’t be shopping! Now we’re back in our pretty room listening to bird song, and Norm is beginning to snore, Tomorrow’s plan is simple, we will arrange the transit of our extra bags, arrange our first night on the trail accommodations, in Roncevalles and our last night in Burgos so we can meet up with our stuff. I need to double check that our gear is all prepared.

Paris, France

Wednesday would be our last day in Paris, and it threatened rain once again. Nevertheless, we were off to Versailles. This time I wore my down jacket under my rain coat, and a scarf, while Norm wore a fleece under his jacket. I brought sandwiches, nuts and dried fruit, water and an umbrella in my shopping bag. Our laundry was all caught up and stowed away, and we had a nice breakfast in the apartment. We caught the C train to Versailles with all the other tourists. We arrived at the opening time so beat the line but not the crowds as apparently everyone had the same idea to begin early. They gave us an audio set as a guide which was a good idea because I needed to know some background to appreciate the site. The palace had a certain bedraggled grandeur which Norm noted because he’d been before in the seventies when it was a wee bit fresher. Once the circuit of the palace was completed, audio set returned, we toured the immense grounds and garden. Part way through the garden, in the bosque, the sky opened and rain pelted down. I was glad I had my umbrella but wished Norm had one too. It worked out that he used the umbrella and I used my raincoat and hood. The rain was fierce but short lived. I noticed a class of school children huddled in the shrubbery eating their soggy lunches in the rain and felt for them. We sheltered a bit in front of a cafe. I was glad we had the foresight to eat our sandwiches before the storm came. After the rain stopped we saw the rest of the garden so I felt I got my euro’s worth. We also took the time to visit the trinket shops where I bought a couple of tea towels, a Paris scarf, and a pair of fans. We also had chocolate mousse and coffee. It was easy to navigate our way home despite some initial confusion about the train to Paris. Once home, and rested we went out to dinner at a popular Italian restaurant called Fuxia. We splurged and shared a salad, but each had an entree and wine. The food was elegant, a roasted eggplant salad with greens, pesto and cheese, then my dish was risotto with chicken but Norm had pasta with thin sliced ham. We packed all our gear before bed, and set three alarms for 4 AM. We were ready to wave au revoir to Paris on the early train out of Monparnasse. Norm called the taxi company to verify our reservation. I wrote a detailed email home to the family, and texted Liz in Sonoma while I made the sandwiches for tomorrow’s journey. We left the house clean, and pretty much finished off the food which our host had given us.

Paris, France

We saved going up in the Eiffel Tower for May 19. We got there early and stood in line for tickets. It was a cold windy day, with the possibility of rain. Norm thought h would get hypothermia just waiting in line, which took all morning. I was pretty cold too but all right because I had layers but wished I’d worn my down jacket. Once we had our tickets it was a breeze. We then waited in another line for the elevator which took us to the first and second floors. There were lots of shops for trinkets or snacks but Norm forged on as he wanted to make the summit. So a second elevator breezed us on up once we put in enough line time. At the top, there was a short staircase to the tippy top but it took us out to a lookout which Norm declined because the weather was too bitter. I took the last distance by myself. I have no picture of me at the summit, so you’ll need to take my word for it.. We were ready for the descent fairly rapidly, but once again the line restrained our progress. Of course, on the second floor I had to meander through a souvineer shop. Once down, it was imperative that we warm up, so we took a brisk walk to the Musee D’Orsay just as the storm broke. After we got some tea in our bellies at the Museum Cafe we were ready to see the art we had missed on Sunday, floors 1 and 2. We were warm and dry so it was a fine afternoon at the museum. By late afternoon, we felt we had seen the major parts, so headed home by metro for dinner in our apartment. I made an omelette, toast and green salad with tomato and goat cheese.

Paris, France

Now we’re in our Air BnB flat on the tenth floor above the city. Our home away from home is in the Republique District, on Place de Bonsergent, n. 16. It’s very tiny, but well furnished and comfortable. It’s in a lively area near the canal with lots of small shops, cool restaurants, cafes, and bakeries. Now that we can cook, we’re making our own meals which is cheaper and healthier. We arrived here at 11:00 am on Sunday, once we were settled in, and laundry started, we went down to the center of town to visit Musee L’ Orangerie, and Musee D’Orsay. In the L’Orangerie, we wanted to see the Waterlillies by Monet. And the D’Orsay is where they keep most of the Impressionism Art. We weren’t able to see all of the museum because it’s huge and we were weary. We finished our day at a lovely fish restaurant where we ate snails, octopus, and raw fish! I’ve been struggling to get enough sleep because I’ve been too excited about being here. On Monday, the 18th, we visited the Louvre. We finished sooner than expected so took off walking to see the Arc de Triomphe going by way of Champs Elysees, the main boulevard. We stopped for gelato on our way. We went to the top of the Arc, spotted the Eiffel Tower and decided to walk there too. By the time we got to the Eiffel Tower, it was too late to go up. So we just gazed at it, and wandered around the park nearby. On our return home, we ate quiche from the bakery and salad in our apartment.

Paris, France

We only had two days at the French Open because we needed to return to Paris on Sunday morning to claim our key for our apartment rental. We were also concerned about having enough time to see Paris. At the dance event, it was a familiar scene visually because they were doing West Coast as we know it, following the same social rules. I never had a bad dance! The leaders could lead very well. There was no chit chat for us though because we can’t speak French. The leaders had to make what they wanted very clear. I did miss the social visiting part, however. Also we were aware that there was some joking around with the commentary but we missed every chance to laugh. Norm entered the Jack and Jill dance so he had a different perspective. From his standpoint, the dancers were very welcoming. I think his experience was deeper and more connected than mine because he joined in the competition. We wished we could have done the full event! It was hard to leave, but we thought we could go to many conventions each year but how often could we see Paris?

Chessy, France

We’re at the French Open! West Coast Swing that is, in Hotel New York in Disneyland. We got here midday, danced a while, and watched the Strictly Swing competitions which were quite good. I noticed the fellows dressed sharp, and wore ties. The follows looked good too. They do a lot of dips and neck wraps. The novice dancers struggled with musicality but the better dancers had it down. We took a workshop too taught by Torri Smith and Max. I must confess I was pretty timid about getting dances, though I did put myself out there. It’s hard to ask for a dance when you’re new, and have no friends or connections and can’t speak the language. We went to our room early because we still haven’t beaten the jet lag, but we’ll cut the rug tomorrow. Getting here is another story, with Norm in the hero role! Last night I couldn’t sleep as we hadn’t bought our train tickets to Saint Jean Pied de Port yet, and we had a troublesome connection to make in Bayonne. The tickets sold online wouldn’t work because we’d arrive a half hour too late for the last train. We figured if we went to the station at Monteparnasse, we could buy a through ticket that would get us there. So we woke early having decided to pop on down to the station before going to play with the French swing dancers. After a super espresso and chocolate croissant breakfast, we took the metro to Garre de Montparnasse which was dauntingly huge, with Norm taking the navigational lead. We were able to buy the tickets through to Saint Jean with only an hour layover in Bayonne. We were back to Mont Blanc within an hour or two to pick up the luggage then off we trundled to the Disneyland Park. My fancy pack and rolling bag worked perfectly but we had to cross two rivers, then failed to locate the correct train station. Perseverance paid off, and Norm’s brilliant map skills because we did find the station, which was huge, then the correct platform arriving by train A at the end of the line. Next we hiked a bit around the Disney complex, found our convention hotel and settled into our room. We found lunch, wraps, in the Disney Village. And after lunch, we danced. Getting here took half the day. It was a superb dress rehearsal for the pilgrim life.

Paris, France

We woke early today and walked to Gare de Saint Lazare where we caught the train to Giverney. We stopped for cafe ole and warm croissants fresh from the bakery. We were pleased that we were able to figure out the rail system so readily. It was a rainy day but we came prepared with rain coats and an umbrella. We weren’t the only ones, as the garden in Giverney was crowded with visitors who didn’t mind the rain. We walked all around the garden, house and village. The flowers were amazing. The house was loaded with paintings and Japanese woodblock prints. After a while, the rain storm took a more severe turn, so we headed back to our Paris home. We couldn’t find a restaurant to our liking in Giverney nor Vernon because the prices were so high and crowds too dense so we didn’t eat until we were back on the Left Bank. We found a fixed price dinner at Chalet de Saint Michel. Back at the hotel, were relaxing. Definitely we’re in for the night. Tomorrow we’re off early to Hotel New York to dance the weekend away.

Millbrae, CA

We’ve been aboard our Air France flight to Paris for quite some time. I’ve been dozing through movies just waking up for the meals and snacks. We’ve flown into tomorrow according to the computer generated map. We should be there in an hour and a half but since we are flying into the future, I have no sense of time passing. I’ve been focused on avoiding the small inevitable muscle cramps that occur when one sleeps upright in a small space. I especially struggle with my neck when I travel. I’d like to mention a little more about my weariness. There was another earthquake in Nepal the morning we left, a 7.3 which followed an earlier one at 7.8. We are no strangers to earthquake ourselves, as we had our big shake up not too long ago, but our quake didn’t kill thousands because in California most structures have been reinforced to withstand seismic shock. That is with the exception of the new Bay Bridge. I have yet to know the full story as we’ve been airborne. Perhaps the shaking of the earth resounds for me because in these times my thoughts and dreams have been shaken. I had always been a positive thinker, seeing the rainbows and sunshine after the rain. Well, that’s been tougher lately as the world turns, we acknowledge the effects of climate change, of rising sea water, long term drought, and the persistence of global income inequality. The pilot just announced our descent so I’ll give this a wrap. I’ve had my breakfast of yogurt, fruit cocktail, orange juice, and ham sandwich chased with a smidgen of coffee. When we land, we’ll confront the world from a new angle, with a language I can’t speak, and coordinants I have yet to decipher. My intent had always been to save the world through my puny superpowers, by teaching of using ones voice for the power of good. I retired because I didn’t care to tilt at those windmills anymore. Also I’m a realist, my life on this small blue green planet is finite. I must put on my traveling shoes once more and actually get my feet dusty as I trek my final miles. I’m setting the stage here and now for this pilgrimage I am to take. It’s about having a fling with the planet, running off to revel in its sweetness, and perhaps to renew my hope for the ideal of democracy, in a global sense. Where we seize the opportunity to shift our course and rescue Robin Hood style what humanity we can.

Millbrae, CA

We’re at the airport way early as usual. We arrived at 11:30 am with Zakk’s help. We knew we’d be early, but like to travel low stress. We were awarded the short line, TSA approved again. Maybe this means we’re officially oldsters. We ate lunch at a pizza concession, and I had time to buy a more comfortable pillow. I checked my rolling bag, and will carry on my backpack. Norm did the opposite. It’s not so heavy, the backpack. it’s an Osprey, lady’s ultra light. I put my Swiss Army knife and hiking poles in my checked bag. I have my meds, pillow, and toiletries with me. I’m ready! Now my thoughts are taking flight ahead of me. I’m thinking about what makes me a pilgrim. It’s such an unlikely role for someone who likes to dance her nights away, someone who hasn’t joined a church, who likes her world concrete, and operational! At least I’ll be humble as I can’t even pretend to have a corner on heaven. I’m a pilgrim in the new sense, because I’m weary of this world, on some ecological brink. I’m looking for some meaning on the dusty roads west. Since I am so concrete, I’ll need the trappings of a long journey laden with clacking seashells and a small stone to leave in the pile left by those before me. The special pilgrims passport I’m carrying has meaning to me as will the inky stamps I collect to signify progress.

Sonoma, CA

It’s our last night home. Today we spent the day packing for our trip, and preparing the house to leave. I bought four bags of mulch, which we spread on the garden so it will manage in the California drought. I arranged my finances for the voyage and also to maintain our home. I’ve said my good-byes to family and friends so now I am truly ready. We’ll get a ride from Zakk to the airport at 11. We have our boarding passes to fly Air France out of San Francisco. Our house sitter Manu is already here. She’s in the guest room. I’ve been in touch with Olivier, the owner of our Paris flat also with the dance convention organizers. On the edge of another great adventure, too excited to sleep, we’re dreaming of the weeks ahead.