Posts filed under 'Travel'
For some time now, I’ve been completely unable to update my blog because our friends over at Google are becoming too big for their boots. Why change something that doesn’t need changing? Anyway, whatever the problem was with Blogger I had no inclination to fix it, so I jumped on the bandwagon and got myself out of there. Here I am now, all shiny and new, powered by WordPress. There is still a lot of cleaning up to be done, namely in the categories and the headings of the posts I imported, but we’ll get there eventually and for now I’d like to try to settle back into a habit of blogging regularly. I’m not sure that I’ll be able to import my old comments, but so be it.
So what’s new? Well, Remi and I spent a couple of weeks in early July roaming around the Loire Valley and Normandy. The Loire Valley is also known as the Valley of the Kings - not to be confused with the original Valley of the Kings in Egypt - because of its numerous châteaux that, over time, usually served as holiday houses for the French royal families or important noblemen. You could probably spend two whole weeks in that region and still not see everything there is to see, so we limited ourselves to two of the most beautiful and notable châteaux: Chambord and Chenonceau, before continuing on our way to Normandy.
It’s difficult to talk about Normandy without sounding like you’re giving a history lesson, so I’ll try to keep it short. Among the things Normandy is known for are unpredictable weather, the Mont Saint Michel (though the Bretons contest ownership), and dairy cows. The world at large, however, will no doubt always remember it as the site of the famous D-Day landings on 6 June 1944, when the Allied forces began their liberation of Europe. Reminders of that day and the days of bloody battle that followed are found all along the Normandy coast: memorials, ever-present American flags, landscapes scarred by shellfire, and bunkers and blockhouses dot beaches and neighbouring fields. Indeed, Remi’s father bought a piece of land with a bunker on it and he has since converted the bunker into an underground kitchen, larder and spare room in which we slept on the night we arrived. It had rained so much over June, however, that when we awoke the next day, water was rising up through the inches-thick cement floor. We didn’t waste a moment in moving to the greenhouse where we slept for the remainder of our stay.
Between fishing and picking up shells, we did some sightseeing and visited Omaha Beach, Utah Beach, Pointe du Hoc (if you’ve ever played Medal of Honour on PlayStation 2, this is where it is set), the German and American war cemeteries, the first villages to have been liberated - sites of the first parachutist landings. Being in all these places was an incredibly moving experience. If you’ve managed to watch Saving Private Ryan the whole way through, you might have an inkling of what it would have been like for these young men who fought there and how some of them, a lot of them still unknown, left their lives there. Some of the deceased’s family members visit Normandy on a regular pilgrimage, others return to remember their fallen comrades. In one café we stopped at, survivors who had come back decades later had signed the tables and walls, some of them leaving little comments, all of it very touching.
On our way back to Toulouse, we stopped at the Mont Saint Michel and celebrated our 3-year anniversary with a seafood lunch in one of the terrace restaurants, overlooking the magnificent low-tide view. Be sure to check out all of the pictures in the galleries section. Remi will no doubt have some better ones up shortly, so I’ll keep you updated on that.
I have also finally added a link to the Lourdes photo album. This was long overdue since my friends Katie, Brian and Tomi and I visited Lourdes on Easter Monday. Better late than never, they say!
I also celebrated another birthday on 25th July and, for my 33 years, friends and loved ones pitched in to buy me a spanking new compact digital camera, so no doubt you’ll be seeing a lot more photos from now on. My other camera is still great, but just too big and bulky to take everywhere.
Last week I got a lovely surprise in the form of an e-mail from an old friend, Russana. We had lost touch some years ago, so it was great to get a nudge from her. She sounds happy and well… I certainly hope we manage to keep in touch this time.
Lastly, if you haven’t seen Transformers yet, do so. And if you get a chance to see it on the big screen, even better!
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August 13th, 2007
Well, it’s been a long time and life keeps keeping on. Three months, and the site was totally offline for at least one of those due to a server meltdown. The blog and galleries haven’t fully recovered yet: some of the photos were not backed up and I would have to take the time to go back and re-link/re-upload/re-reference the pictures that are missing. BUT at least we have the text and all the archives and a great majority of the galleries! So what has happened over the last three months? We have been to Paris, Lake Maggiore on the border of Italy and Switzerland, up a mountain in Switzerland and back down again (by car), we’ve been to Milan, Monza and Venice, back to the beautiful Pays-Basque for the ferias and some R&R. I’ve been to my first and last bullfight and we’ve spent a weekend sailing the Mediterranean with friends. Until I catch up with everything else, here are the photos from that weekend.
In other news, on July 19th I passed my driving theory test and on September 1st I passed my practical driving test, both on first go. I am now licensed to drive! I am doing ok, though not so comfortable doing between 70 and 90 on little country roads, driving at night on little country roads, or parking… anywhere 
Work is coming along and this week will see me turning a new leaf on that front as I sign up with an agency that will accompany me in the creation of my business. I am learning new skills, I enjoy what I do and it’s something I can do from anywhere in the world.
So… that’s the lowdown for now!
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September 18th, 2006
A couple of weeks ago Remi had an ex-colleague/friend visiting from Montreal, so we headed off for a few days of discovery in Basque Country, taking full advantage of the 4 day long weekend in honour of the ascension of Christ, the 40th day of Easter.
Basque Country (Euskal Herria in Basque) is made up of 3 provinces on the French side and 4 on the Spanish. Remi’s mother now lives on the French side, in Bayonne on the Atlantic Coast. Bayonne is famous for its “ferias“, its ham, and apparently its chocolate. Trivia: linguists still have no clue as to the origins of the Basque language, which it has to be said is quite strange.
We arrived early afternoon on the Wednesday and after a tasty lunch set off to the beach at Anglet and then on to Biarritz, a playground for the rich (once a favourite holiday spot of the British royal family) and favourite spot for surfers.
The next day we set off to St Jean de Luz then over the Spanish border onto Hondarribia, stopping for a picnic between the two at a choice cliff-edge spot looking out over the ocean. They are both lovely towns, though St Jean de Luz could be considered more of a playground for the rich and Hondarribia has more character with its colourful fishermen’s houses.
[…] I have to admit that first part was written just a couple of days after our return and I hadn’t had a chance to get back to it since. As such, I have forgotten the details of the trip such as what day we did what. What I can tell you is that we went to Bilbao to visit the Guggenheim museum and you will see in the photos that this building truly is amazing, all made of titanium, sandstone and glass. Once there we got to see the Russia! exhibition, apparently the largest collection to ever have left Russia and some of it was awe-inspiring… namely standing in front of a Rubens portrait and wondering how the hell. Some are so well captured in paint that they literally look like photographs.
We also visited San Sebastian, a city burnt down to the ground in 1813 by English and Portuguese and then rebuilt. For a while it was the Summer residence of the Spanish royal family and also a playground for the rich! Quite a lovely city, it would be nice to go back there one day and spend a little more time.
We also stopped by Guernica which we very much liked and appreciated even more thanks to the friendly bar we visited where they served us some delicious tapas for a very good price… so be sure to stop off at Auzokoa if ever you happen by Guernica with a rumble in your tummy!
Some of you may actually have heard of Guernica because of Picasso’s famous depiction of the Guernica massacre… “the first aerial bombardment in history in which a civilian population was attacked with the apparent intent of producing total destruction.” (…) “aerial bombardment in history in which a civilian population was attacked with the apparent intent of producing total destruction.” (ref. wikipedia entry). Very interesting from a modern history point of view.
Anyhow all these places have a very interesting past and for those who are curious I highly recommend searching Wikipedia for more info.
And last but not least we visited the lovely little town of Espelette, famous for its red Espelette chilis. All in all, a great 5 days! Click here to go to the photo album in the galleries section.
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June 14th, 2006
Well, it’s finally revised and updated, done and dusted, check it out at www.fizzylight.com and let me know what you think. The new look was a long time coming but I think it was worth the wait… for me at least. Now I can concentrate fully on getting my pro one up and active.
Remember to check out what we did last weekend: the Pic du Midi; you’ll find it in the galleries under France (fancy that).
I’ve been flat-chat lately with a lot of work and projects so looking forward to some R&R. Tomorrow we head off to Basque Country then for a couple of days in Spain… yay us! 
Catch you on the flip side!
xx
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May 23rd, 2006
I trust you all had a very merry Christmas and got spoilt as much as you deserved (or didn’t). Me, I was the lucky recipient of the gastro epidemic that is sweeping our part of the world. Luckily, my fairy godmother stepped in and banished the nasty bugs just in time for Christmas day. Anyone care to share what loot they scored? I got Ally McBeal series 1 on DVD, money to help with acquiring my drivers licence, the new Sinead O’Connor CD, Bill Bryson’s “Down Under”, a cool scrap book, some beautiful earrings, a miniature bicycle to be traded in shortly for a life sized one, the two history books mentioned in a previous post, a fondue maker (YUM!), and a raclette maker that is also a grill and crepe maker (double YUM!). Phew! I don’t think I forgot anything
We had yummalicious food including smoked salmon, foie gras, gratin de cardons, king prawns, roasts, turkey, buches de noel, and all manner of other deliciousness. I got sent some lovely emails and photos as coverage of the family Christmas celebrations back in Australia and today I got to speak with my Mum, my brother Dowie, my sister Kat and my grandmother. I also got a call from a colleague of Remi’s to confirm that they got back to Toulouse from Lyons today and that they have our camera… Yes, in our very early morning frenzy to not miss the train yesterday we forgot a backpack in which we had packed our camera complete with all the Christmas photos. So all is well with the world and in the next couple of days we may have a few photos of Xmas!
In the meantime, I am doing an end of year spring clean. Yes, in a couple of days the year 2006 begins and so before we bid goodbye to 2005 I would like to share with you a few more trips that marked my leaving Canada and my time in France so far… Please click on the links to view the albums.
Firstly, as promised, there is the “Best of Canada” album. It’s not really made up of the best photos taken there but moreso those that capture the essence of my time there… mostly freezing my arse off as you can see here on the left
Next are pictures of my first destination once I arrived in France: Lyons
While I was there we also visited Perouges, a medieval village
The next stop from Lyons was pretty emotional for me since we stopped off in Ambert, Auvergne, to re-discover a significant part of my childhood. There we visited the man who was my step-father for about 7 years: Guy. Not only was that very strange but about 20 years ago we had sent a huge crate full of our belongings back to France when the political situation in New Caledonia got a little too shaky. So during my brief visit I revisited a lot of my past and even got to take a few relics with me.
Before heading to Toulouse Remi’s mother decided it had been so long since I swam in the ocean she would take me there as a belated birthday gift. So off we went to Orist in the Landes in the South of France close to the Atlantic coast, where we stayed in a gorgeous farmhouse for about 3 days.
Our final destination before hitting Toulouse was Bayonne, way down south in Basque country. Bayonne is home of the famous “Fetes de Bayonne” every summer. In fact there was a corrida happening while we were there but I am glad I didn’t get to witness any of it. It’s a great little city on the coast and Remi’s mother is hoping to move there this Spring.
Once settled in Toulouse, Anne and I took off for a weekend in the Lot region
It is absolutely gorgeous and not to be missed. We had a wonderful weekend from beginning to end. One of the highlights was spotting castles and houses built into the cliff face and dating back to the Hundred Year war.
Last but not least, the photos of our day trip to Carcassonne, a XIIIth Century fortified city and Albi, famous for its cathedral and a hub of the South West region during its golden age when for a century (XVth to XVIth) great fortunes were built on the Pastel trade. Pastel, being the leaf of a local tree, prized for the magnificent blue colour it produces. Blue being the preferred colour of nobility at the time and used here to paint the cathedral’s ceiling.
Anyway, I trust that should any of the photos or tidbits above arouse your curiosity you will conduct a little Google search to find out more
In closing I would like to thank all those who contributed comments to my last two posts, you have greatly helped me with my dilemma!
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December 29th, 2005
Honey toast rocks! What else rocks? Well, at the moment way high up on the list is Barcelona. Yep! A jewel of a city tucked away in Catalan country on the Spanish Mediterranean coast and we were lucky enough to visit it last weekend
Once a week at the canteen here we organise a lunch so that a bunch of people who want to practice their English can get together and speak nothing but… you guessed it, English. So a couple of weeks ago at the English lunch I was sitting opposite Julia, a Spanish girl I’d never really spoken to before, and somehow in the conversation it came out that I had never been to Spain. “Well I am going to Barcelona this weekend if you guys want to come along, it’s always better to be more people so you can share the petrol costs!”.
Uhoh, once the idea was planted there you can imagine it was pretty damn impossible to let it go. But you know, I am currently unemployed so we’re on a pretty strict budget and this month being Christmas and all… Ah to hell with it, you only live once right?
We checked out some hostels but for 25 Euros a night we would have had to sleep separately in 6 or 8 bed dorms. Not very romantic, we deliberated some more. 
Thursday night we made a last ditch attempt at organising a suitably budget priced but pleasant weekend in Barcelona. We logged on to Rates to Go and managed to find a newly renovated one-bedroom apartment right next to the Placa Reial and one street back from Las Ramblas for 50 Euros a night. Perfect! We booked it and were set to head off at 2.30 on the Friday afternoon.
The weather was grey in Toulouse but we were headed to perfect sunshine in Barcelona so we got some rather incredible light play in the sky on the way there. Remi had the not so bright idea to leave the Expressway around Perpignan I believe, to get to Figueres in Spain via the coastal road along the Mediterannean and through the Lower Pyrenees. It added about an hour and a half of very VERY windy and somewhat steep roads and I was sitting in the backseat of the VW van trying to keep myself together. I was rather sick for quite a while after but ok, yeah… it was very pretty. Well, what I saw of it anyway since in those moments it’s better to just look straight ahead and concentrate on one’s breathing while sucking on Vichy mints. Good job Remi! 
(quick sidenote… those places along the coast really are very beautiful and I believe we will be going back to them by train towards the end of Spring if possible).
We finally reached Figueres (hometown of the great Dali and also now home of the Dali museum which we will be sure to visit sometime) and drove on through to Girona where Julia dropped us off at the train station for an hour train ride to Barcelona Sants because she was heading off further into the Pyrenees. At the train station I realised how lucky I was to have Remi with me since he speaks almost fluent Spanish and I am but a lousy beginner. This was my first time in a country where I didn’t speak the language!! All the other places I have been they either spoke
French or English and being in Spain just made me want to rush back to my Spanish lessons. I mean, if people speak slower I can pretty much get the gist of what they are saying most of the time. But here they spoke fast, mumbled, AND spoke Catalan rather than Castellano (Castilian) so I was pretty much doomed. I probably could have tried purchasing a train ticket in English but I might have been spat on or something… the guy at the ticket office REALLY wasn’t friendly.
The train ride was smooth with a couple of stops and we arrived in Barcelona without incident. We worked out how to work the metro ticket vending machine and headed off to Placa Catalunya, decided we would down Las Ramblas from there in order to reach our apartment. This way we got to see the busiest most famous (and touristy) street in Barcelona on a Friday night. At Placa Catalunya we were struck by the space, the wide avenues and walkways, the pretty and tasteful Christmas lights. The space especially was a huge contrast from Toulouse with its narrow streets and even narrower footpaths. Down Las Ramblas we were especially struck by the guys holding six packs of beer everywhere and trying to sell individual beers to passers-by. I have no idea still what that was about but it’s something we saw a lot of over the weekend. If someone could enlighten us we would be grateful!
By 10 pm we made it to our apartment, dropped our stuff off and set out to discover the surroundings and have a bite to eat. I was giddy with excitement. The city feels wonderful and at night it’s brimming with life. Around 11 pm all the restaurants were still full, with many diners just arriving. We settled on a little quaint tapas bar where the Sepia a la Plancha was to die for. And then we found out that the drawback of staying right in the thick of it, is the noise.
After breakfast the next morning we set off to visit our number one priority: the temple of the Sagrada Familia. A building Gaudi started to build in 1882 and which was far from finished by the time he died in a tram accident in 1926. They are hoping to have it finished by 2026 in honour of the 100th birthday of his death. It is an incredible sight as I hope the photos will convey. One word of advice though: do not even think about going up the towers (even by elevator) if are even remotely subject to vertigo, claustrophobia or if you are afraid of heights. I thought the warning signs were the usual to cover themselves just in case, and I was wrong. I had a full blown panic attack while I was up there and thought I wasn’t even going to be able to make it back down. To even just get back down to the elevator the stairs are very narrow and winding, there are no windows so the light shines into your eyes and you just see open space on the sides and no stairs beneath you because you are blinded. It was horrible. My friend Anne later told me the same thing happened to her up there.
After the temple we briefly wandered through the Christmas market in the park across the street and there Remi discovered the shiver inducing pleasures of the orgasmatron. We bought one and sat on a bench giving each other shivers for a while before heading off to McDonalds (yeah I know but there was a good reason) since it was the only place we could find where we could eat while recharging the camera battery which was running dreadfully low.
That done, we set off to Park Guell which is probably more widely known as Gaudi park because it was designed by him. For a mosaics fan like myself it was wonderful and full of treasures.
There we also made a great discovery: the Hang. Rather than describe what this musical instrument looks like, you can see its story and a picture here. It’s a percussion instrument that sounds somewhat like a harp. Remi made a short film of the guy playing in the park and you can view it here. We bought the CD!
Leaving there we met a couple of restaurant owners from California who were visiting on their way back from Mozambique. I actually spoke to her because she had a guide book and we wanted to know where the Palau de la Musica Catalan was since we were totally unprepared for all tourist activity. She was really nice and gave us a couple of spare maps she had. We ended up talking to them for a good half hour before moving on to the Palau and then on to Barcelona’s gothic cathedral. Unfortunately at the Palau we could only appreciate the outside beauty since we were not allowed in, and the cathedral was covered in scaffolding, presumably undergoing restoration.
By now night had well and truly fallen and we decided that since Toulouse was not (yet) playing the English version of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire we should try to see it in Toulouse. God knows I was not going to be able to stand the possibility that I wouldn’t be able to see it at all in Toulouse! So it was off to a yummy Japanese restaurant for a small meal and then to the movie theatre. The movie was great! The best Harry movie so far… which is actually not such an achievement considering how crap the first two were.
Sunday morning we walked to the port, stopping in a little patissery for croissants and the best coffee I have had in a long time. We walked all the way around and down to Barceloneta beach where we admired the Mediterranean Sea, not having seen ocean for months. The apartment owners had kindly let us store our bags in the apartment while we continued our sightseeing rather than forcing us to check out at the usual 11 am.
Unfortunately we got a call from them around 12 saying they had received a last minute booking and would therefore need us to remove our gear by 2 pm so that the cleaning lady could get in there. That put us on a tighter schedule. After much umming and aaahing we decided to take the risk of not getting back on time rather than give up on the idea of taking the sky train to Montjuic where we knew we would not have time for a full exploration but at least it meant getting a good panoramic view of the city. Not only were we not disappointed but we also managed to get back on time.
Once we grabbed our bags it meant the sightseeing was pretty much over. We still had a couple of hours before we had to meet Julia for the return trip. We decided to spend them on a paella, followed by Spanish hot chocolate and a little wander through the boutique lined streets. That is how we found Barcelona’s version of heaven: Xocoa.
If you ever get a chance to stop by there, there is one delicacy you should not miss. I am not sure of its name but it looks like a cake covered in icing sugar with what they call marzipan though I don’t believe it’s the same as the marzipan we refer to. It is filled with a chocolatey paste. It is dee-licious and light. MMmmm. I would go back just for that, but then again I can be a bit of a guts
All of this topped off by a long snooze in the car most of the way back. Aaah life is good
For your viewing pleasure, you will find the full Barcelona album here. Do not miss the Sagradra Familia pictures!
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December 20th, 2005
Give Blood… Donate an Organ!
The Barcelona details are coming along nicely and will be with you within the next couple of days. I am also getting more organised so will shortly be bringing you the photos of my visits to Bayonne, the Lot, Orist, Ambert, Perouges, Lyons and Carcassone… as well as a ‘Best of Canada’ album as mentioned previously. Sorry about the delay but believe it or not all this is a lot of work and the uploading has to be outsourced to Remi’s office since our crappy modem connection can’t handle the task.
Yesterday we went on a train trip to Albi with John and I will give you a bit of a rundown when the photo album is ready. Somehow during the day I got on the subject of blood groups… for no logical reason that I know of except to say that I think my blood group is pretty cool since it spells Be Positive. I found out Remi is A positive (”A Plus”) so A+ and in France that is a familiar way to sign off when emailing or leaving someone on IRC/msn. It’s short for “A Plus Tard” which basically means “see you later”. So I guess here, his blood group is kinda cool too.
So then I asked John what his blood group was and he said it was O positive or negative, whichever one can be used by everyone. I figure that kinda makes you one of the chosen ones, the saviour of the people if you will, a responsibility that should not be taken lightly, so I asked him if he ever gives blood. I was shocked to hear the answer was no! I mean it turns out he actually gets very faint at the sight of blood so I understood a little better. BUT Remi and he basically told me giving blood is not something that’s really in the mentality of your average French person.
I then asked if he was an organ donor and he said no. !!!!!. Raaar! No organ donation??! What good are your organs to you if you’re no longer around??
So there again they told me that it’s not something that is really put in their face, most people wouldn’t even be aware of the procedure to become an organ donor, and even if they were the procedure is a pain in the butt anyway (apparently).
I told them how in Australia there are a couple of ways to become an organ donor but that the main one was to declare yourself a donor when you get your drivers licence. We all agreed that was a really good idea. Australia 1 France 0.
But seriously… Think about it… Think about it hard… then… Just do it*.
Give Blood. Become an Organ Donor.
*I’ll probably get sued by Nike for that one
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December 18th, 2005
When we were in Boston, Remi earned the name Crazy WeatherMan. Why? Well, aside from being a meteorologist by profession there were a couple of other factors and today another couple have come along just to reinforce the idea.
The first couple of factors:
- During his trip to Boston in January this year they had the worst snowstorm (I am linking someone else’s pictures but we have the same if not better, I would just have to find them :P) they had had in at least the last 100 years, with 1 meter of snow falling overnight. His return home was delayed for a couple of days because all the roads were blocked.
- During our trip to Boston in August this year they had the worst thunderstorm (same comment as above for this photo :P) they had had in oh I don’t know how long but let’s just say a very very long time. It was very scary!!
So that’s when he earned his name. But now for the other two factors:
- During our trip to Arizona, also in August this year, we were confronted with the monsoon. Now apparently according to the locals the monsoon rains usually only last about a week. Well this year while we were there, thanks to Remi I am sure, they had more rain than they had had in the last 15 years!
- This weekend Remi went off for a little jaunt to the Netherlands and today he is supposed to be heading to Paris to stay the night and return home to Toulouse tomorrow. Well… Check this out… Yes! you read right! Hundreds of commuters stranded in the Netherlands and the Eiffel Tower closed for 4 hours!
I hope he doesn’t start getting barred from places… that would be awful!
Actually, yesterday I visited the Musee des Augustins in Toulouse with a friend of mine. The Musee des Augustins is a fine arts museum and a lot of the items on exhibitions were pillaged from the aristocracy during the Revolution and then redistributed among museums all over France. While I was there I looked out the window to see HUGE snowflakes falling from the sky. I do love the sight of snow, but really didn’t expect it in Toulouse. Though I have been told it snows here occasionally I really thought it would be more like tiny drops of slush. Well we ran outside to stand in it, but disappointingly although the flakes were huge and white it really was just slush.
Today Anne is picking me up for a little trip to the countryside in defiance of the rain. We are going to visit the hometown of Francis Cabrel… Astaffort. I will have to explain that later because she is due here in 10 minutes and I am not even dressed :/
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November 27th, 2005
My last few days in Montreal were super charged. I thought I would have time to do a little visiting or a little lazing around, alas, that was not to be. Between having to be home to welcome the hordes of hungry buyers come to rid us of our ’stuff’, taking care of last minute administrative hassles, cleaning up, sorting through papers, photos and clothes, I didn’t have a minute to spare.I was leaving early evening on the Friday, so I had designated the Thursday evening for friends and the Wednesday evening with my love from whom I was to be separated for a whole month :/So for our last night together, also my last experience of dining out in Montreal, Remi surprised me by taking me to a restaurant we had read reviews about a few months earlier and vowed to try but never got around to it. The restaurant in question is Troika on Crescent St. A little on the pricey side but the food (especially the meat!) was delicious. With Russian/French fusion food on the menu, I chose the ‘Table d’Hote’ which consists of an entree (meat pirojki that I shared with Remi), a main course (beef stroganoff which was amazingly melt-in-your-mouth delicious), and finally a beautiful (and big) slice of mousse cake which I also shared with my love. Remi knew he would be sharing my meal and so he only ordered a main course… I can’t remember what it was called but it looked mighty impressive and involved beef, foie gras, and some sort of alcohol… Cognac maybe. So … in short, the food was delicious and the restaurant
highly recommended
The last night with friends was very enjoyable with a higher than expected turnout and some good laughs. Unfortunately Clem and Amaury got their bikes stolen before the end of the night, but Clem is a lot like Shane in that ‘bad luck’ department.
On Friday morning, Remi and I set out to the Bagel Cafe on Mont-Royal for my last taste of fresh St-Viateur bagels, not to be missed. We got home around 12.30 and I started to get myself organised for my trip. I finished packing ten minutes before the cab was due to arrive, perfect timing. I was a little frazzled by that time, but more at the prospect of being separated from
Remi for a month than at the thought of moving to France, although after my experience at
Heathrow some years ago, I was not looking forward to tackling Charles de Gaulle airport!
Goodbyes were teary on my part and the walk through customs was weird for an international flight… nobody stamped my passport to say that I was leaving Canada, so I have no idea how they keep track. Add to that no entry stamp in France due to my being a European passport holder and I have no idea how one proves that one left Canada on such and such a date. Weird.
I flew to Paris with Zoom Airlines, a Toronto based charter airline. The price is budget, part of the basis for my choice, but also you can buy a one-way ticket easily and it’s half the price of a return ticket, which is the way it should be everywhere but oddly enough isn’t. I paid 565 Canadian dollars, tax included, for a first class seat. The service was better than any airline I have travelled in over the last few years, and they even gave out meals, drinks, newspapers with wipes to clean the ink off your hands when you’re done, a travel kit, lots of stuff I hadn’t seen for years in the air. Zoom Airlines, highly recommended then.
Although I flew through the night (7 hours flight but a 6 hour time difference between Montreal and France) I didn’t sleep a wink. I watched Madagascar, The Interpreter and some other crappy movie.
I believe Charles de Gaulle airport is designed to make people not want to go to Paris. Our plane landed at Terminal 3 and parked in a designated space off the runway. Just like in Vienna, you make your way down the stairs from the aircraft and across the tarmac to an awaiting shuttle that takes you to the terminal’s main building. A pain in the ass if you have a lot to carry but at least up to this point you don’t have your checked in bags so it’s still workable. You breeze through the passport checkpoint when you present your European passport and make your way to baggage claim to watch the belt roll by empty for at least 45 minutes. Finally your bag is in sight and you struggle to offload all 24 kilos off the belt… no no, don’t expect anyone to help you, after all this is Paris. BUT at least the trolleys are free
Through customs… Nothing to declare or something to declare, I realised it made no difference since all customs officers apparently considered themselves off-duty and were huddled to one side of the area chatting. Out into the foggy early morning air, I knew I had to find a way to get to Terminal 2 where I was to be boarding a TGV (Tres Grande Vitesse train) to Lyons. There were panels everywhere with symbols on them but if you don’t know what the symbols mean, for example a pink square with a number 5 in it, well you’re pretty much screwed.
I followed the one symbol I figured was hard to misinterpret… the arrow. The walk seemed very long… out in the open at first along the carpark, and then through a tunnel and out in the open again, across a road, when you finally spot another building. But no no, it’s not Terminal 2. What it is is a train (RER) and bus station. I go inside and ask the guy if this is the TGV station. No, for
the TGV you have to go back outside and take bus number 5 (hence the pink square!!) to the TGV station at terminal 2.
I go back outside and lign up with all the other passengers laden with suitcases and bags and some also laden with children. I tell you, this is the perfect scenario after a sleepless night - I forgot to mention that by then my hands were all swollen due to heavy bags, lack of sleep and possibly air and temperature changes… they were very painful and I had very little grip left in them.
The bus/shuttle finally arrives. There is no ramp to make it easier to get on with a suitcase, in fact there is a little step. Once inside, there is hardly any room for all the suitcases and people the shuttle should be designed to transport. The aisles are extremely narrow so you can’t just wheel your case down the middle. The driver is not very well versed in the art of smooth driving, so it’s sudden braking all the way along our trajectory. She stops once to yell at some kid and kick him off the bus, I later realise he’s a pickpocket and shit now I’m in Paris I have to be careful… There are pickpockets everywhere at the airport.
About 5 stops and lots of people struggling to get off later, I finally arrive at my destination to find the bus drops you off on the other side of the road, so now you have to tackle the step to get off the bus, the step to get onto the road to cross (again no ramp) and the other step on the other side to get back on to the pavement. When you get there, you look down through the glass windows to see what? You guessed it, a freakin’ staircase. I curse and struggle a little longer with my luggage (backpack charged with laptop, chargers, cds, etc., camera bag charged with camera, charger, cables, cds, etc., handbag charged with cd player, money, jumper, scarf, books, etc., and 24 kilo suitcase as mentioned above) and finally find an elevator… but you then have to wait about 5 trips of the elevator to finally get enough room to board.
I finally make it down to the TGV ticket office where I explain my predicament to the lovely gentleman behind the counter: we bought my ticket online but you need the card’s PIN to collect the ticket and after 1 year and a half in Canada my dear Remi has forgotten the PIN so now I can’t get my ticket. No problem he says, you can buy a new ticket now with cash and I will reimburse the other ticket to the card. Yes! Finally a pain-free process!
It’s now over 2 hours since I landed and I was glad to have planned such a gap between my flight arrival and my TGV departure (plan for about 3 hours because customs would have delayed me even more had they decided to work). I find a bench to rest my weary self while waiting for the train, conscious that another adventure awaits me then. A guy approaches me and asks me to answer a survey on the layout of the airport, the facilities etc. Boy am I keen to give him a piece of my mind! Unfortunately he doesn’t care. When I ask him why there are only yes or no questions and no room for comment, he tells me “I have no idea and I don’t care, I am only doing this for a week and then I’m back to show business”. Hmm. Well I come to the conclusion that they are only interested in statistics and not in constructive ideas or criticisms. Typical.
I start chatting to an older couple of retirees from Massachussets who were waiting on the TGV to Lille and they too have had a horrid experience of this Paris airport and they only had to go from one area of Terminal 2 to another!
My departure platform is finally announced and I make my way to the northern access where
luckily there is an escalator. Everyone on the platform is laden with luggage. The TGV finally arrives and it’s time to embark. Two steps up to the carriage and once again no ramp. Since none of the young able-bodied men around me offered to help, I took the liberty of asking one of the guys behind me to lift my suitcase on to the train. He seemed a little taken aback but well, he did it anyway and he didn’t complain.
Once on the train came the realisation that there was no designated storage area for the suitcases, the overhead compartments were all already taken so no more room for my hand luggage either and, to top it all off, my seat was on the other end of the carriage with yet another very narrow aisle for me to struggle to move my suitcase through while also carrying all my hand luggage. Great! What an positive experience! I was also second on the train so holding up everyone behind me but even though every single male on the train was dumbly gawking at me, not one of them got off his arse to help me. By the time I made it to my seat I was exhausted and fuming and a young guy who was also struggling behind me helped me to lift my case on to an empty seat. I then had to squeeze past a lady with all my hand luggage to take my seat and did the 2 hour train trip with half an eye on my case which was precariously perched on a seat behind me, the heavy backpack with computer at my feet, and the camera bag and handbag on my lap. Nothing like travelling in style and comfort. I managed to sleep 20 minutes.
By the time I arrived in Lyons my head was spinning and I was exhausted. About 20 minutes
before arrival I struggled back through the carriage with my case but this time without hand luggage so I could manoeuvre it much easier using foot and knee. I set it down facing the door so I could kick it down on to the platform if required. Once on the platform I realised that in the turbulence that surrounded my departure from Montreal, Remi had forgotten to tell me where I was supposed to meet his mother!
I made my way up off the platform via an elevator I managed to find and then headed for the ticketing office where I didn’t find her, a couple of waiting rooms where I didn’t find her and I finally came across a sign pointing towards “Point de rencontre” (meeting place). I made my way there, circled around a little and lingered somewhere I could be spotted and that is where she finally found me. She was in a tizz after circling around looking for me, she took charge of the trolley and dragged me over to a little cafe where she plonked a strong black coffee and a chocolate croissant in front of me and listened to me vent my frustrations. She also informed me that if I felt up to it later we had been invited for dinner at some friends of hers.
By then it must have been about 12.30 and we set off back to her place for lunch. At 3.30 I crashed and had to sleep. We had both agreed that to get over my jetlag quickly I should try to go to bed at the normal time and sleep through the night so I was not allowed to nap very long.
NOTE: This blog entry was in fact written a couple of days after my arrival in France… I had meant to write more and that is why I delayed publication. Now I realise the entry is long enough as it is. Sorry!
Another note: Some time after my nightmare at CDG airport, I noticed that Paris Airports actually airs ads on TV reminding us how welcome we all are. If they had won the 2012 Olympic Games bid it would have been a logistical nightmare! Someone needs to be sacked and it’s not their advertising department!
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November 21st, 2005
Where’s Tashie?
Tuesday was a public holiday here: la Toussaint or Day of the Dead if you prefer. It is traditionally the day when people do the rounds of the cemeteries to clean up the graves of their dearly departed and deposit fresh chrysanthemums on them. The day is also used as a pretext for a long weekend or week’s holiday since it falls in the middle of the school holidays.
We took the opportunity to take time out of the city and head to the Pyrenees for 3 days and nights since Remi found a colleague who has a father who has a cousin (you know the drill) who owns a 6 sleeper-’chalet’ in Cauterets, a gorgeous ski resort/spa village tucked in the valley between beautiful mountains.
I was told the Pyrenees were wilder than the Alps so more beautiful in a lot of ways. I was not disappointed, what we saw was stunning and definitely a change of scenery for me.
We all 3 (Anne, Remi and myself) set off in the Twingo late Saturday afternoon after a chaotic day spent at that international house of all-things-householdy-practical-and-mostly-cheap IKEA where I scored myself a cheap desk, desk chair and corkboard as well as a few of those things you never knew you needed until you saw them at IKEA for 1 or 2 Euros.
A brief pipi and food stop and a 2.5 hour car ride later, we arrived in Cauterets in complete darkness and were greeted by our dear landlord, a total caricature of frenchdom in his navy Lacoste v-neck sweater and black beret. After an exhaustive run-down of stuff we could have worked out ourselves within a couple of minutes of being left alone (but hey, you don’t scoff at good friendly and especially thorough hospitality!) our hosts left us to our own devices and we decided to go check out the ‘gave’ we had spotted on our way into town. As I mentioned, Cauterets is a spa town and the water that runs through it is renowned for its healing properties. The water rushes wildly through the town (contained of course!) and is known as le gave. Suitably impressed by this we went off to sleep soundly in preparation for some exploration the next day.
First thing next morning I got a lovely surprise that had me gushing for quite a while: when I opened the shutters I realised that not only we had a perfect view of the beautiful village church that was perched on a square just across the (narrow and steep) road from us, but we were also surrounded by gorgeous mountains which we got not the slightest hint of in the blackness of the previous night. And it was a beautiful day! Remi did the Sunday morning dash to the bakery for croissants, pains au chocolat and fresh bread and after stuffing ourselves silly we set off happily. Our drive that day was the first hint that we were surrounded by gushing water and waterfalls, unfortunately our plans to hike up to the Lac de Gaumes were thwarted by poor Remi who had way overtaxed himself physically over the 3 previous days with volleyball, tennis and biking. We spent the rest of the day at the chalet relaxing and nursing our wounded and ventured out at night for a bite to eat at a local bistro. Rebecca was arriving the next morning by train and we decided that we would go to Lac de Gaumes then.
Next morning we woke up to grey skies, fog and rain. We got Rebecca settled in and set off to the Tourist Info office to figure out if it was still worth hiking up to the Lac in the rain - you guessed it, the answer was a definite no. It would be a complete waste of time. So what were the alternatives on a day such as this?
The aquarium in Pierrefitte or the Chateau Fort in Lourdes. Well, I’ve seen some pretty amazing aquariums in my time so the one in Pierrefitte did not seem like too much of a revelation. As for the Chateau Fort, well Lourdes was a 45 minute drive away and we just weren’t up for it. Just as we were about to despair we decided that we would still take Rebecca to see the few waterfalls we had seen the previous day. Great idea since we actually did some beautiful hikes and Anne and I even made it up to the rickety bridge we had spotted the day before. We got absolutely drenched but it was worth it… for the photos of the conquering heroes, click here! In the meantime you will have to content yourselves with the photo above that shows you the beautiful autumn colours and gushing water in the background. After our drenching we went to sit in a cafe for hot choccies and a few rounds of Elixir before setting off to the Pont d’Espagne and our next round of discoveries. The Pont d’Espagne is another bridge over a beautiful waterfall, but it is made of stone and not rickety at all. So we ended up having a great day after all despite the rain and cold and we topped it off with a cheese fondue chez Gégé for dinner. Gégé was off his face and could barely stand up but he served us nonetheless and without incident which was quite impressive. We later found out that he had just sold the restaurant and was retiring the next day… no, he wasn’t usually that pissed at work. It was ummm interesting! but the fondue was good
The next day we got up early to clean up the chalet and pack all our gear and get off to an early start since we were heading to the Cirque de Gavarnie. Absolutely magnificent and very reminiscent of the Rocky Mountains. Gavarnie is about 45 minutes South from Cauterets and borders Spain. The Cirque is a circular wall of snow-capped rocky mountains. If you fall forward off the top you fall into Spain… and well, presumably you die a horrible death also but that’s beside the point. We parked the car in the village of Gavarnie and set off up the mountain for approximately a 1 hour hike. It was stunning. The water so aqua clear, the rocks a soft slate grey, the valleys so green and lush and peppered with grazing sheep, horses and donkeys, the snow-capped peaks of rock… You most definitely must see.
After a beautiful afternoon in heaven it was time to head back to Toulouse, although we did stop briefly in Lourdes on the way. Long enough to see what a horrible, depressing place it is. Full of sick people hoping for a miracle and kitsch souvenir stores selling Virgin Mary plastic water bottles to fill with holy water in the cave, and all manner of tacky Jesus and Mary plastic knick-knacks.
So there you have it, our first long weekend away!
P.S: adding a note since I believe no one has read the post as yet. I forgot to mention that at the Cirque de Gavarnie you will find the tallest waterfall in Europe at some 450 meters high or thereabouts.
The photos Remi has selected from our visit to Gavarnie can be viewed by clicking here.
The photos Remi has selected from our visit to Cauterets can be viewed by clicking here.
Each album contains about 3 pages so don’t forget to click ‘Next’ in the bottom right hand corner of the page or you will miss out on some beauties!!
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November 4th, 2005
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