Tag: Travel in France

Coming Back

Dear Liza,

It has been just about a month since I have posted a blog. While we were in Bordeaux on our tour around France, I got sick and was diagnosed with shingles. Yep, shingles, there on the right side of my face. Ghoulish, huh?

Being sick is never fun, but being sick in a country where you barely know the language and have no contacts, personal vehicle or knowledge of how things work is terrifying.

I was lucky to be traveling with Grandpa Nelson and Auntie Bridgett. Grandpa is a genius at transportation systems, internet apps and reservations. Bridgett knows enough French to ask the right questions, pays attention to details, and is a firm, gentle caregiver. Between them they got me to emergency rooms, got our travel insurance activated, picked up the right medications and kept me fed.

Since fighting the shingles virus left me very feeble and nearly blind in one eye, Grandpa made sure there were wheelchairs at the train stations and airports across France and in Amsterdam. I rode around like a dippy Cleopatra, grateful for all the help but not really aware of much that was going on.

The highlight of the trip was that during our stay in Amsterdam, you and your family came to visit! We had a few hours of silliness and love before I was exhausted. Thanks to your parents for making the long trip!

Once we got back to Portland, my doctors appreciated all the care I had received in France. My ophthalmologist was pleased that the shingles hadn’t gotten into my eye, but merely swollen and numbed a bunch of the nerves, which should go away eventually.

Then there are the meds for the ‘next stage’. After the virus has gone into remission (apparently it never really goes away) there is weird nerve pain that sticks around, for weeks or even months.

And that is where I am now. My general health is improved to the point that I can walk around the park, make art, and cook dinner. I still need meds to sleep, because the prickly nerve pain is always there, hovering behind my eye. I also must not expose myself to direct sunlight, as that can re-activate the virus, so I wear a big scarf and carry a parasol when we go out walking. Here is my self-portrait.

So, life’s not normal yet, but progress is being made.

Love,

Grandma Judy

The Canal du Midi

June 15

Dear Liza,

When Auntie Bridgett and I were studying French with Shawn Quiane at Hartnell Community College, I did a report on the Canal du Midi.

I was fascinated by the 17th century construction, which allowed French shipping to travel from the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean without going past Spain. Since Spain and France were often at war, this was a really good idea.

Grandpa Nelson, being a history buff AND a transit geek, really wanted to see it, too, and there are actual boat tours that take you on the bit that goes through Toulouse. He got us tickets.

Of course, life always is more complicated than you think, and after a morning of site-seeing, we found ourselves dashing onto the A line Metro, hopping off at Jean Jaurès, and getting help from a wonderfully expressive Security Guard. A long, stuffy ride in a cross-town bus, and Voila! There was Le Capitole, our tour boat, tied up at Port L’Embouchure.

Turns out, we needn’t have hurried. Several dozen school kids made for slow boarding. Lots of noise, too, but we sat out on the front deck. Very warm, but hey, we had hats.

And once the boat got underway, all the nuisances were forgotten. We were quietly (mostly quietly, remember; a boat full of kids) gliding down a smooth green water highway, on water borrowed from the Garonne River.

On our cruise, we went through three locks, which are mechanical arrangements that allow boats in water to travel uphill. I would not be able to explain it here… take a few minutes, Google it, and come back.

Grandpa and I were quietly geeking out. This very construction carried silk from Toulouse to the Med for trade in the 1600s. When the U.S. was still a new set of British Colonies, boats were running on this canal.

Still, by the time we reached our destination and got off the boat at Port Saint Sauveur, we were thirsty, hungry and hot! We stopped at a market for juice, water, chips and snacks, and found a shady bench in the Jardin Rond to rehydrate. When we were ready, we footed it across town back to our apartment for a long rest, fine dinner, and a peaceful evening.

Thanks, 17th Century engineers!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Living Architecture

June11

Dear Liza,

Just when we thought we’d seen all Montpellier had to offer, we stumbled across a thirteen-piece set of art installations placed all over the Old City.

Called Festival des Architectures Vives, this festival has run for 6 days every June since 2010. It invites architects from all over the world to create site specific installations on a certain theme. The art is installed in the courtyards of the ancient mansions of the Old City, behind grand doors that are usually closed.

The theme this year was “La Gourmandise”, which in English translates to gluttony. That is not accurate, however, because in French it just refers to the eating we do that is above what is needed for survival. You know, eating something just because it is tasty, or pretty, or fun.

Some of the pieces, like the cherry pie made of bouncy balls, are meant to be interacted with, and were, as we watched. Others, like the hundreds of antique spoons laid into sand, are most definitely “hands off”.

We found some pieces more engaging than others, and the secret was… no big surprise, The People! Each piece was explained by several local architecture students, and those who were enthusiastic made their piece more interesting. Those who spoke some English or were willing to engage with our bumpy French were also wonderful.

The piece I found the most thought provoking was called The Last Cheeseburger, and was a small room built of lumber and lined with empty water bottles representing the amount of water it takes to create a cheeseburger, from raising the beef to baking the bun, growing and preparing the pickles, lettuce, all the rest.

Inside the room is a cheeseburger on a plinth and covered with a bell jar. This represents the last cheeseburger made, using the last drop of water. It brings into relief the need to make wise choices about what we eat, for the health of our planet.

I am so glad we found this amazing art scavenger hunt! It let us meet some lovely people and see another side to this interesting city.

Next stop: Toulouse!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Day Trip to the Romans Part 2

June 9

Dear Liza,

By the time we got to Arles, it was lunchtime, and we know better than to skip lunch. Fortunately, we found Le France, a wonderful café with outdoor seating under the plane trees. Bridgett and I shared a chèvre chaud salade avec toasts. This is a generous pile of greens, mushrooms, tomatoes, basalmic vinegar, and rounds of toast with warm goat cheese on them.

It was wonderful, and it even left us room for dessert! We splurged, with a tiny chocolate lava cake, tiramisu, and crème brûlée shared between us. Oh, and coffee to finish the meal (and give us jet fuel for the adventure ahead.)

We walked through the city’s medieval walls and up the delightful Rue de Voltaire. Grape vines, wisteria, ivy, and star jasmine climbed up to balconies and made the whole street look like a painting and smell wonderful.

And right smack in the middle of town was the Roman Arena! Begun in 90 A.D, it was the scene for gladiator games and other violent ‘entertainment’. Being a firm believer in cognitive dissonance, I can hate the games and admire the architecture.

And I do!

This arena could hold 20,000 people, had bathrooms to accommodate them and efficient corridors that could clear the whole place quickly. It is still standing, and still in use, today. The electricity was being updated for the upcoming bull fighting season.

The most surprising thing I learned about the Arena was that in 1822, when France decided the Arena should be restored and maintained, the first thing they had to do was get the people living in it to move out! Apparently, in the lawlessness that followed the collapse of the Roman Empire around 500 A.D., folks moved into the arena and built houses, like a walled village. And their kids stayed, and they built more houses.

A few blocks up from the Arena was the Theater. It has suffered more from “recycling”, with only the first tier of its seats still in place. It is missing the wall behind the stage and all the decorated pillars but two that made it up the decorated back wall of the stage.

But this is still being used, as well, as you can see by the sound equipment being installed for summer concerts.

Closer to the Rhône are the ruins of Emperor Constantine’s thermal baths, but we saw them at a trot as we hurried to the train station for our trip home.

Love,

Grandma Judy

The Montpellier Zoo

June 8

Dear Liza,

It just keeps getting warmer here in Southern France, but we are determined to get out and see the sights. Grandpa Nelson invited me along on his “Gotta See the Zoo” transit outing, so I went.

We made sure to take cold water and snacks, found the tram stop down by the triangular shaped Square Planchon, and headed off. The tram took us up to the University of Sciences and Letters, and from there we caught a bus up into the hills. The dry hills and low trees felt like Toro Park in Monterey, California.

When we had left housing developments behind, we found the Zoo. The first enclosure is a generous aviary housing Red Ibis, South American birds that are the color plastic flamingoes only dream of being.

After that, though, the paths and the enclosures felt more like a rough draft of a zoo. The paths were unpaved roads and the signs were vague about distances and actual zoo animals along the way. The enclosures were full of trees and high grass, making it nearly impossible to see many of the critters. We passed cheetahs, emus and gazelles enclosures,, with nary an animal in sight.

There were lots of families with small kids, and it was fun trying to eavesdrop on their conversations. By The Tower (which I can’t find any online info about), there was a cold water spigot and lots of shady benches and tables, which kept everyone rested and hydrated.

Luckily, there were Grandpa’s favorites, the giraffes. We visited with them and the rhinos for a bit, and then headed back out. Some cold Orangina and potato chips from the snack shop renewed our will to live, and we caught the bus, then tram, home.

It wasn’t the adventure we expected, but an adventure all the same.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Big Adventure, Little Museum

May 7

Dear Liza,

Sometimes, the adventure is all about the destination. And sometimes, it’s about the journey.

I was heading off for the Cinema and Miniature Museum, you see. Auntie Bridgett and I had ridden the metro to the Place Bellecour together, and then we parted ways. She was heading for a comics shop, I was heading to the museum.

First, I got distracted and turned around, going north a bit instead of west. But I found the lovely Place des Jacobins, with old buildings and a fountain. So, all was well.

Getting straightened out, I followed Googlemaps …. Down the narrowest, creepiest, most ancient alley I’d ever seen. But I found a bridge across the Saône at the other end of it, so, good again.

After more skinny streets (these were filled with tourists) I found the museum of Cinema and Miniature. It was a pretty impressive collection of sites, props, costumes, and miniatures for dozens of movies.

Ewok costumes from Star Wars, miniature sets from Ghostbusters, and even the Queen Mother from Alien. There were 10 rooms, on six floors, filled with nifty, nerdy movie stuff. Even the world’s most famous umbrella. It was fun, and I’m glad I went.

But there was more adventure to be had elsewhere. I texted Bridgett, who was done at the comics shop, and we met up for coffee.

And the St. Jean Cathedral.

And discovering our first Traboule! (More on that later).

And finally, home for dinner.

So, the museum was tiny, but it was an adventurous day.

Love,

Grandma Judy

L’Hexagone

Dear Liza,

I am finding new ways to make maps into art for my Art Journal. Since we have loved our travels in France and hope to return someday, I have been looking at maps of that wonderful chunk of Europe.

I am not the first to notice that the map of France resembles a hexagon. In fact, people have been using the nickname ”L’hexagon” since 1949 and French school children are taught to draw the map of their country by using a hexagon as the basic shape.

So I thought I would make my map of France out of an actual, geometric hexagon. First, I had to figure out how to make one without a zillion math calculations, which would mess with my art joy.

Fortunately, I found the youtube channels of both Jenny W. Chan and a fellow named Sam. They both taught me what I needed to know. I was able to fold a sheet, cut it to fit, and then sketch in the map. Than I used that map as a pattern for my real one.

Since this is a personal map, I wanted to show the places we have visited. But I also wanted to show the feel of the place, of the geography. The French understand about ’terroir’, the importance of a sense of place.


I decided that I wanted to show what was grown where, so cattle, sheep, pigs and chickens got inked in with the orchards and vineyards.

And that’s how it looks for now. I may add some shading in the mountains, but I’ll leave that for tomorrow.

Love,

Grandma Judy