The ms Zaandam arrives this morning at the port of Montreal on the St. Lawerence River at 7:00
AM. Again, a beautiful 58F day, moving towards mid-70s. Our luggage disappeared overnight from
the corridor and we hope we can find it again when the time
comes. We journey to the Lido Deck 8 for our final breakfast
of the cruise. Crowded, but as our departure time is near the
end of the group, 9:15, the cafeteria is emptying and we finally
just headed down to our stateroom to await being called. At
9:00 Red # 2 is called and we drag our carry-ons off the ship.
Unlike our last cruise, the bags are right there, standing clear
of a mess and our driver is waiting for us.
Pierre is a 67 year-old native of Montreal, formerly an import/export person and, for 25 years, a chef. He embarks on a tour
of this 44 mile long by 14 mile wide island populated by 2
million persons. Montreal is named for the 500 foot Mount
Royal in the Center of the island. All the granite for the
buildings has been quarried from this mountain, and there is
plenty more to go.
Pierre takes us through the various neighborhoods, stopping at
an Italian pastry store for amazing cannoli and then into the
Hasidic Jewish quarter for freshly boiled bagels, still hot and
covered with sesame seeds. This is like a mini-New York with
all the various neighborhoods changing as the populations prosper, move out to the suburbs and
are replaced by others. We drive past a Roman Catholic Church where three leaf clover are a part of
the decor of the walls and plinths. This was built by the Irish, but as they prospered and moved on,
it is now the Polish church which John Paul visited and led a mass in when he visited Montreal.
One note that Pierre was particularly excited about, the bicycle lobby is so strong that Montreal is
probably the only city in North America where it is illegal to turn right on red. The bicyclists are
afraid of getting hit - hence traffic is slowed as people impatiently wait to turn on red lights.
Our tour lasts about three hours and is ended by the highlight of the trip (according to Abigail) by a
stop at the yarn store she had researched prior to leaving Omaha, Espace Tricot, La Knittere
Moderne, where yarn was purchased.
Onward to the airport by 12:15 where we checked and weighed our bags, confirmed our seats and
passed through immigration with the U.S. Gestapo who allowed that we could indeed return home.
We are now checked all the way through to
Omaha, the Duggans through Philadelphia,
and the Coverts through Newark. We then
stopped at Urban Crave and the adjoining
Tim Horton’s. Tim enjoyed a cofffee and
cinnamon sticks, Deb Duggan a salad, and
the Coverts helpings of Poutine with bacon
and wine. We enjoyed our vacation, our
cruise, and now look forward to returning to
our own beds, with windows to look out rather
than our inside cabins with no view. Our
view of the world has been enlarged and we
have met people and seen sights that were
new for all of us. We even got to places
(Prince Edward Island, Halifax and Quebec
City) that Deb Covert had not seen; this is always a plus as she feels less
jaded with new experiences, and we feel like we have helped her expand her
horizons.
Showing posts with label americans abroad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label americans abroad. Show all posts
Friday, January 24, 2020
Boston to Montreal, Friday, September 6, 2019
The morning breaks partly cloudy and cool, but promising. We dock this morning at the pier for
Quebec City, at the base of the rock of this city founded by Samuel Champlain in 1608. Champlain,
a Frenchman, of course was
already a war hero in the battles
with Britain, the conqueror of the
indigenous peoples of the West
Indies, and the discoverer of the
Great Lakes on behalf of the
conquering European nations.
After a fine breakfast on board ship, our scouting party of five sets out to discover the famous walled city. We did not have a shore excursion booked today as we wanted to cover this very walkable old city on our own, and also because all the good, shore excursions were sold out before we thought to review them. We embarked at the pier and walked only a few blocks to the vertical elevator known as the funicular for the $3.50 per person ride to the top of the great rock and walk of this only remaining walled city in North America.
At the top of the rock sits the famous Frontenac Hotel, formerly the site of the home of the ruler of Quebec and all of French Canada. Deb and Deb slipped into the lobby for a look as there are clients of Deb’s arriving in the near future and she wanted to get a feel for what their $500.00 per night will get them. She was impressed with the sumptuous off the lobby and the general feeling of service.
Meanwhile, Mark, Abigail and Tim relaxed on benches in the park fronting the Hotel, people watching and soaking up the atmosphere, not to mention the sun, which had broken through the cloud cover and was making for a glorious day. We then commenced what this group of five does so well, shop in the myriad small shops that line the streets here. The crowds were beginning to grow as we walked along, flitting from shop to shop, occasionally making purchases and marvelling at the U.S. dollar to Canadian dollar exchange rate. By noon, we were beginning to feel a little peckish so decided to forego riding the funicular device back down and walked the steps (slowly) instead.
Once at the bottom, we again had streets of shops, cafe’ and restaurant choices. We eventually picked a nice restaurant with outside seating, but in the shade, and ordered our lunches: flatbread pizzas, soup, pasta, wine and beer were consumed in a leisurely fashion. At 1:30, we left to work our way back to the ship via more shops, an ice cream store and a popcorn shop with outstanding popcorn. More purchases were made, and we arrived back on board at 3:30, tired but proud that we had walked over 3.6 miles, up and down the streets of ancient Quebec. Every part reminded of the Willa Cather novel, Shadows on the Rock which depicted Quebec in its early settlement. Sites and buildings were still recognizable; the novelist had gotten it exactly right - but knowing Ms. Cather as we do, this is not surprising. One should read this novel whether or not you are intending to travel to Quebec City.
After our return shipboard, it was time to consolidate our purchases and find a way to cram them all into suitcases, as we had to pack up our luggage and have it out in the corridors prior to retiring, or at least by midnight if not retiring, in preparation for our arrival tomorrow at Montreal and the end of our cruise. We dined once last time in the Lido Market and then finished our packing before calling it a night at 10:00 PM.
After a fine breakfast on board ship, our scouting party of five sets out to discover the famous walled city. We did not have a shore excursion booked today as we wanted to cover this very walkable old city on our own, and also because all the good, shore excursions were sold out before we thought to review them. We embarked at the pier and walked only a few blocks to the vertical elevator known as the funicular for the $3.50 per person ride to the top of the great rock and walk of this only remaining walled city in North America.
At the top of the rock sits the famous Frontenac Hotel, formerly the site of the home of the ruler of Quebec and all of French Canada. Deb and Deb slipped into the lobby for a look as there are clients of Deb’s arriving in the near future and she wanted to get a feel for what their $500.00 per night will get them. She was impressed with the sumptuous off the lobby and the general feeling of service.
Meanwhile, Mark, Abigail and Tim relaxed on benches in the park fronting the Hotel, people watching and soaking up the atmosphere, not to mention the sun, which had broken through the cloud cover and was making for a glorious day. We then commenced what this group of five does so well, shop in the myriad small shops that line the streets here. The crowds were beginning to grow as we walked along, flitting from shop to shop, occasionally making purchases and marvelling at the U.S. dollar to Canadian dollar exchange rate. By noon, we were beginning to feel a little peckish so decided to forego riding the funicular device back down and walked the steps (slowly) instead.
Once at the bottom, we again had streets of shops, cafe’ and restaurant choices. We eventually picked a nice restaurant with outside seating, but in the shade, and ordered our lunches: flatbread pizzas, soup, pasta, wine and beer were consumed in a leisurely fashion. At 1:30, we left to work our way back to the ship via more shops, an ice cream store and a popcorn shop with outstanding popcorn. More purchases were made, and we arrived back on board at 3:30, tired but proud that we had walked over 3.6 miles, up and down the streets of ancient Quebec. Every part reminded of the Willa Cather novel, Shadows on the Rock which depicted Quebec in its early settlement. Sites and buildings were still recognizable; the novelist had gotten it exactly right - but knowing Ms. Cather as we do, this is not surprising. One should read this novel whether or not you are intending to travel to Quebec City.
After our return shipboard, it was time to consolidate our purchases and find a way to cram them all into suitcases, as we had to pack up our luggage and have it out in the corridors prior to retiring, or at least by midnight if not retiring, in preparation for our arrival tomorrow at Montreal and the end of our cruise. We dined once last time in the Lido Market and then finished our packing before calling it a night at 10:00 PM.
Boston to Montreal, Thursday, September 5, 2019
Today is an At Sea day, meaning no port. We left last night from Prince Edward Island, sailing
around the southern side of the island towards the east and then around the northern tip of the
island turning
southwest into the St.
Lawerence bay,
headed towards the
St. Lawerence River
and into Quebec City,
a distance of some
698 nautical miles.
We spent our time on board today reading, knitting, playing bridge and eating. A true vacation punctuated with trying to find our team members when they wandered off to some other area of the ship. Abigail spent time finishing a sweater which she then modelled on board.
We spent our time on board today reading, knitting, playing bridge and eating. A true vacation punctuated with trying to find our team members when they wandered off to some other area of the ship. Abigail spent time finishing a sweater which she then modelled on board.
Boston to Montreal, Wednesday, September 4, 2019
This morning breaks cloudy and a bit chilly. Deb and Tim are staying on board this morning so
Abigail, Deb and Mark rush to the Lido Market Deck for a quick and tasty breakfast and then
through passport control onto the island of Prince Edward, the smallest of the Canadian provinces.
Prince Edward Island (PEI) has a population of 143,000 and comprises 1/10 of 1% of the Canadian
land mass. It’s capitol, Charlottetown, where we are docked, has a full time population of around
36,000 but swells to 80,000 during the day as commuters come in for work and shopping.
The three of us, together with 29 other shipboard ‘friends’ board a coach with Cindy Wenge as our tour guide and Don as our driver. Cindy, we quickly learn, is a PEI native and has just recently retired as the provincial prosecutor, in charge of all criminal prosecutions in PEI. Her legal training and preparedness soon become apparent as we motor through the countryside and she presents her case for the beauty and history of her homeland.
PEI is a rural economy with its biggest crop being potatoes. It is second only to Idaho in potato production. Next is mussel fishing - the province is the largest supplier of mussels in North America - and those you eat or buy in Omaha are probably sourced here. The other big crop is lobster, tons and tons of lobster. The island land mass is sandstone, not granite as others we have visited, hence a relatively high water table, and a slowly eroding shoreline. Charlottetown is where the original confederation of provinces meetings took place in order to form the nation of Canada. PEI population is descended from English, Scott, Irish, French and indigenous Mi’kmaq peoples.
The weather is rather temperate as the Atlantic Ocean does not touch the island shores; however winter is an experience; they receive an average of ten feet of snow per year. Due to the warming and cooling and the sandstone base, the snow often disappears relatively quickly, but there is a lot of it. In 2017 they received one snowfall of 18 feet! Cindy passed around pictures that were astonishing. Access to the island is either by a bridge - the Confederation Bridge from New Brunswick, the longest bridge over ice in the world and costing $46.00 for a round trip ticket, or a ferry from Nova Scotia at $76.00 round trip.
The countryside is rolling hills with the highest point only around 500 feet above sea level. One of the subliminal things noticed by tourists but not quickly sensed is the lack of roadside billboards or advertising! Banned! Wonderful! Enlightened! (Is my enthusiasm showing?)
Our motor coach has a sign on the front which reads “Ultimate Anne of Green Gables Experience” and this is one of the selling points for Abigail on this cruise. She is all things Anne. We travel first to the site of the Campbell residence, immortalized in L.M. Montgomery’s books as “Silver Bush” the home of her cousin and best mate. This is still in the Campbell family and is restored to a museum of sorts. We step off the coach to a clearing sky and temperatures in the low 70’s, another perfect day. The Campbell house is educational recreating the happier moments of Montgomery’s early life; the grounds are very well manicured and tended. We finish up by stepping into the gift shop for a glass of coffee, tea, or raspberry cordial and a scone. Shopping is completed by some (most) and others sit on the restful outside benches. We stretch a bit and wander the grounds until our motorcoach is ready to head further on to the town of Cavendish, the town in which Lucy Maude Montgomery was raised.
L.M. Montgomery’s story is very interesting. Her mother died when she was only a small child and as fathers did not act as single parents in those late 1800 times, she was raised by her grandparents while her father left for the prairies of Canada. She began writing stories as a teenager while she worked as a schoolteacher and helpmate to her grandmother at the local post office, mailing her manuscripts off to publishers as she sorted the mail.
Her first, and most famous novel, Anne of Green Gables was written in 1908 and first published in 1911 by a Boston publisher. She went on to write many novels, including eight in the Anne of Green Gables series. After her grandmother died, she married a local minister and soon moved to Ontario, where she lived for the rest of her life. She continued to come back to her beloved Prince Edward Island to visit her friends and family, stating that her heart was always here. She is buried in the Cavendish cemetery and celebrated in the Heritage Centre we visited next. The Centre, newly opened this year, has a Green Gables home set as a museum, and interpretive center and grounds to walk and gift shops to peruse. Very well done and most informative.
As we continued our 26 mile loop of PEI, our guide began a short trivia quiz over some of the things we had learned. She asked 4 questions and the Covert trio were first to answer two - a 50% success. Either we are good students, we were paying attention, or we were close to the front and loud enough to be recognized. We will take the win no matter what. The coach arrived back in Charlottetown by 2:30. Deb stayed in town to meet with Deb and Tim, while Abigail and Mark returned to the ship to lunch and knit.
The shopping trio returned on board shortly before the 4:40 cast-off and regaled the knitting duo with their talk of big glasses of wine and raw oysters for their lunch. The shipboard hot dogs were excellent also. We cast off and sailed out for a two day run at sea, expecting to arrive next at Quebec City on Friday morning. We all retired around 10:00, set for a leisurely day ahead and now over halfway through our vacation.
The three of us, together with 29 other shipboard ‘friends’ board a coach with Cindy Wenge as our tour guide and Don as our driver. Cindy, we quickly learn, is a PEI native and has just recently retired as the provincial prosecutor, in charge of all criminal prosecutions in PEI. Her legal training and preparedness soon become apparent as we motor through the countryside and she presents her case for the beauty and history of her homeland.
PEI is a rural economy with its biggest crop being potatoes. It is second only to Idaho in potato production. Next is mussel fishing - the province is the largest supplier of mussels in North America - and those you eat or buy in Omaha are probably sourced here. The other big crop is lobster, tons and tons of lobster. The island land mass is sandstone, not granite as others we have visited, hence a relatively high water table, and a slowly eroding shoreline. Charlottetown is where the original confederation of provinces meetings took place in order to form the nation of Canada. PEI population is descended from English, Scott, Irish, French and indigenous Mi’kmaq peoples.
The weather is rather temperate as the Atlantic Ocean does not touch the island shores; however winter is an experience; they receive an average of ten feet of snow per year. Due to the warming and cooling and the sandstone base, the snow often disappears relatively quickly, but there is a lot of it. In 2017 they received one snowfall of 18 feet! Cindy passed around pictures that were astonishing. Access to the island is either by a bridge - the Confederation Bridge from New Brunswick, the longest bridge over ice in the world and costing $46.00 for a round trip ticket, or a ferry from Nova Scotia at $76.00 round trip.
The countryside is rolling hills with the highest point only around 500 feet above sea level. One of the subliminal things noticed by tourists but not quickly sensed is the lack of roadside billboards or advertising! Banned! Wonderful! Enlightened! (Is my enthusiasm showing?)
Our motor coach has a sign on the front which reads “Ultimate Anne of Green Gables Experience” and this is one of the selling points for Abigail on this cruise. She is all things Anne. We travel first to the site of the Campbell residence, immortalized in L.M. Montgomery’s books as “Silver Bush” the home of her cousin and best mate. This is still in the Campbell family and is restored to a museum of sorts. We step off the coach to a clearing sky and temperatures in the low 70’s, another perfect day. The Campbell house is educational recreating the happier moments of Montgomery’s early life; the grounds are very well manicured and tended. We finish up by stepping into the gift shop for a glass of coffee, tea, or raspberry cordial and a scone. Shopping is completed by some (most) and others sit on the restful outside benches. We stretch a bit and wander the grounds until our motorcoach is ready to head further on to the town of Cavendish, the town in which Lucy Maude Montgomery was raised.
L.M. Montgomery’s story is very interesting. Her mother died when she was only a small child and as fathers did not act as single parents in those late 1800 times, she was raised by her grandparents while her father left for the prairies of Canada. She began writing stories as a teenager while she worked as a schoolteacher and helpmate to her grandmother at the local post office, mailing her manuscripts off to publishers as she sorted the mail.
Her first, and most famous novel, Anne of Green Gables was written in 1908 and first published in 1911 by a Boston publisher. She went on to write many novels, including eight in the Anne of Green Gables series. After her grandmother died, she married a local minister and soon moved to Ontario, where she lived for the rest of her life. She continued to come back to her beloved Prince Edward Island to visit her friends and family, stating that her heart was always here. She is buried in the Cavendish cemetery and celebrated in the Heritage Centre we visited next. The Centre, newly opened this year, has a Green Gables home set as a museum, and interpretive center and grounds to walk and gift shops to peruse. Very well done and most informative.
As we continued our 26 mile loop of PEI, our guide began a short trivia quiz over some of the things we had learned. She asked 4 questions and the Covert trio were first to answer two - a 50% success. Either we are good students, we were paying attention, or we were close to the front and loud enough to be recognized. We will take the win no matter what. The coach arrived back in Charlottetown by 2:30. Deb stayed in town to meet with Deb and Tim, while Abigail and Mark returned to the ship to lunch and knit.
The shopping trio returned on board shortly before the 4:40 cast-off and regaled the knitting duo with their talk of big glasses of wine and raw oysters for their lunch. The shipboard hot dogs were excellent also. We cast off and sailed out for a two day run at sea, expecting to arrive next at Quebec City on Friday morning. We all retired around 10:00, set for a leisurely day ahead and now over halfway through our vacation.
Boston to Montreal, Tuesday, September 3, 2019
We dock this morning a little later than normal, and will be able to leave the ship by 10:30. As we
have no tours planned for today, we take a leisurely morning, with coffee in our rooms and then
meeting at Lido deck for a hot breakfast of omelettes, scrambled eggs, pastries, and juice. Deb and
Tim elect to eat in their stateroom so Abigail, Deb and Mark spend some time planning their day
over coffee. Abigail has decided to remain on board ship today, resting (?) knitting and lounging.
Deb and Mark decide to go on shore and
explore the town of Sydney.
Technically, Sydney is no longer a town, having been absorbed into a regional governmental body in 1994. However, it obviously still exists. It is a small town with a regional population of 22,000 or so, occupying a portion of the Cape Breton Island. As we disembark the ship, we are greeted by a 30 foot tall sculpture of a violin or fiddle. Cape Breton has an Irish, Scottish and indigenous heritage and loves their fiddle playing musical heritage. On the pier is a large structure of small shops, tables and chairs occupied by a host of passengers and crew anxiously bent over their electronic tethers to find what is happening with the world (free WI-FI,) and a large hall filled with tables of craft objects, all being hawked by the local makers.
We walk a bit further into the town, finding small shops, looking at the houses for sale in the real estate store window, and just soaking up the local culture. As we are very set against the cruising habit of stop, buy souvenirs, and then hop back on board, we wandered the small stores, eventually stopping in one to buy some cute tee-shirts and visit with the shop owners. The two local women were munching on a burrito style wrap sandwich, and when we inquired, they directed us to a small cafe around the corner. We walked a block over and entered the Flavor Restaurant and sat to have a chicken, apricot and walnut wrap (delicious) and a bowl of Fish Chowder and home made toast, all washed down with a tasty glass of red wine. Deb declares the chowder the best she has ever had!
While waiting for our meal, we perused the map we had been given of the town and discovered a yarn shop, The Bobbin Tree. After our luncheon, we walked back a few blocks to the shop where, substituting ourselves for Abigail, we purchased some locally produced and dyed yarn. The walk back to the ship was slow and interesting; we passed a statue/memorial along the way on the waterfront which told the story of the merchant ships lost during the Atlantic Wars of 1939-1945 as the sailors from the area helped to supply the war effort. The loss of over 266 ships during the many crossings was a testament to the effort put forth by this small island and the price they paid for our continued freedom in the western world. We journeyed back to our ship and were on board by 2:30 PM.
We located Deb Duggan and Abigail who, we found had been sitting in the library most of the morning, Deb reading, and Abigail listening to her music, mostly napping and just relaxing. After their lunch they talked at length and decided to head to the lecture and demonstration on Chicken Marsala, presented by America’s Test Kitchen magazine, which they did, from 3:00 to 4:00. Tim, in the meanwhile, was out searching for another bridge game. We all then readjourned on deck to bask in the sun, read and generally lolly-gag around until we cast off at 6:30. Then on to dinner, again in the Lido Market for pork roast, deviled eggs, pasta, salmon and other comestibles, wine included.
Deb, Deb and Tim again went on a quest to find the mythical prow of the ship, going up and down steps, into unauthorized “Staff Only” doors and eventually finding their goal, but not without a lot of marching around. All were back in their staterooms by 9:30. Another lazy day that is becoming a hallmark of this vacation. As we stood on the aft deck of the good ship Zaandam bidding farewell to the coast of Nova Scotia earlier in the evening, we all remarked on what a pleasant and quiet land we had visited over the last two days. We vowed to return in the coming years to explore the area in much greater depth. The Nova Scotian Province is easily reachable by automobile from the American Northeast, and merits much greater interest from its American neighbors to the south. The views are stunning, the people friendly, and, with no language barrier, it is welcoming and engaging.
Technically, Sydney is no longer a town, having been absorbed into a regional governmental body in 1994. However, it obviously still exists. It is a small town with a regional population of 22,000 or so, occupying a portion of the Cape Breton Island. As we disembark the ship, we are greeted by a 30 foot tall sculpture of a violin or fiddle. Cape Breton has an Irish, Scottish and indigenous heritage and loves their fiddle playing musical heritage. On the pier is a large structure of small shops, tables and chairs occupied by a host of passengers and crew anxiously bent over their electronic tethers to find what is happening with the world (free WI-FI,) and a large hall filled with tables of craft objects, all being hawked by the local makers.
We walk a bit further into the town, finding small shops, looking at the houses for sale in the real estate store window, and just soaking up the local culture. As we are very set against the cruising habit of stop, buy souvenirs, and then hop back on board, we wandered the small stores, eventually stopping in one to buy some cute tee-shirts and visit with the shop owners. The two local women were munching on a burrito style wrap sandwich, and when we inquired, they directed us to a small cafe around the corner. We walked a block over and entered the Flavor Restaurant and sat to have a chicken, apricot and walnut wrap (delicious) and a bowl of Fish Chowder and home made toast, all washed down with a tasty glass of red wine. Deb declares the chowder the best she has ever had!
While waiting for our meal, we perused the map we had been given of the town and discovered a yarn shop, The Bobbin Tree. After our luncheon, we walked back a few blocks to the shop where, substituting ourselves for Abigail, we purchased some locally produced and dyed yarn. The walk back to the ship was slow and interesting; we passed a statue/memorial along the way on the waterfront which told the story of the merchant ships lost during the Atlantic Wars of 1939-1945 as the sailors from the area helped to supply the war effort. The loss of over 266 ships during the many crossings was a testament to the effort put forth by this small island and the price they paid for our continued freedom in the western world. We journeyed back to our ship and were on board by 2:30 PM.
We located Deb Duggan and Abigail who, we found had been sitting in the library most of the morning, Deb reading, and Abigail listening to her music, mostly napping and just relaxing. After their lunch they talked at length and decided to head to the lecture and demonstration on Chicken Marsala, presented by America’s Test Kitchen magazine, which they did, from 3:00 to 4:00. Tim, in the meanwhile, was out searching for another bridge game. We all then readjourned on deck to bask in the sun, read and generally lolly-gag around until we cast off at 6:30. Then on to dinner, again in the Lido Market for pork roast, deviled eggs, pasta, salmon and other comestibles, wine included.
Deb, Deb and Tim again went on a quest to find the mythical prow of the ship, going up and down steps, into unauthorized “Staff Only” doors and eventually finding their goal, but not without a lot of marching around. All were back in their staterooms by 9:30. Another lazy day that is becoming a hallmark of this vacation. As we stood on the aft deck of the good ship Zaandam bidding farewell to the coast of Nova Scotia earlier in the evening, we all remarked on what a pleasant and quiet land we had visited over the last two days. We vowed to return in the coming years to explore the area in much greater depth. The Nova Scotian Province is easily reachable by automobile from the American Northeast, and merits much greater interest from its American neighbors to the south. The views are stunning, the people friendly, and, with no language barrier, it is welcoming and engaging.
Boston to Montreal, Monday, September 2, 2019
Today is Labor Day in both the U.S. and Canada. It is also our first stop in Canada, Halifax, largest
city in the Province of Nova Scotia. We dock around 7:30 AM, but are delayed as the ship has to
clear Canadian immigration. Previously, each passenger was required to fill out a Canadian
immigration form, but there were errors on some, which necessitated delays. As an example, at
around 8:00, Deb and Tim were called from their stateroom to the “interrogation room” with their
passports in hand to meet the inquisitors. It seems that Deb neglected to put the date at which
they were intending to depart Canada on their form. Don’t want those heathen southern immigrants
staying illegally in the country and sucking up all the good paying jobs and living off the largess of
the hardworking taxpayers, eh?
Finally, by 9:00 the ship was declared docked and passengers were allowed to disembark. Deb and Abigail have booked a thee hour coach tour to the destination of Peggy’s Cove, while the other three of us remain on board for a few hours to relax, read, and hang out. At 11:30, Deb Duggan and Mark venture off the ship to meet Deb and Abigail while Tim sticks on board to continue reading. Mark and Deb wander the shore side boardwalk, looking at the craft shops and taking advantage of the WI-FI to catch up on emails and such.
The tour to Peggy’s Cove and the iconic lighthouse showed Deb and Abigail some of the loveliest parts of Nova Scotia. Even though Nova Scotia is one of the smallest provinces in Canada, it has over 4000 miles of coastline with beautiful forests and the rocky granite that is only a few feet under the soil of the entire area. The tour guide pictured below (who reminded Deb of our friend Kevin,) provided detailed information on the area. For such a beautiful but small area, this has been involved in three major tragedies in the last 107 years, two which occurred in the Province.
The first was their acceptance of over 190 of the dead from the Titanic tragedy of April 15, 1912. Most were buried in three cemeteries in Halifax, one created in the form of a ship’s bow just for Titanic casualties. Many could not be identified and were buried with only their date of death and the number that they were tagged with corresponding to the order they were pulled from the water.
The worst tragedy was in 1917 when a French ship carrying armaments and fuel caught fire in Halifax Harbor. Thousands gathered in the harbor to watch the ship burn (the crew had jumped ship when the fire started), only to lose their lives when the ship exploded with the power and consequent devastation only eclipsed when Hiroshima was bombed. It changed the face of Halifax city forever. Thousands lost their lives and over 1000 people were blinded by flying glass. Boston was the first city to send medical help. Haligonians were so thankful that, to this day, they cut a large Christmas tree and send to Boston; it is installed in Boston Commons each year.
The third tragedy was again not of the making of Nova Scotia. 21 years ago, an Air France plane had a total electronic failure and nose-dived directly into St. Margaret’s Bay, near Peggy’s Cove. All aboard died but the people in the area pulled together to help with the retrieval of bodies and putting up relatives of the dead in their homes, as there were very few commercial inns at the time (this was pre AirBnB). There is a lovely monument dedicated to the people of Nova Scotia who helped comfort and aid those who had lost loved ones. It is also complete with the names of every passenger and their histories.
Abigail and Deb returned to the pier area at 12:30. They quickly made the stay-at-home troops feel remiss in skipping this tour. Halifax is a city of around 350,000 in the Nova Scotia Province of 1.1 million Canadian souls. The economy is based upon the sea: fishing, lobster fishing, shipping, military port and shipbuilding are among the largest industries.
We walked the boardwalk and shopped the craft stores open in the pier complex. Due to the Labor Day holiday, none of the stores in the Historic City area were open, hence, no yarn from Halifax!
We returned to the ship and located Tim. Then up to the 8th level Lido deck pool area for late lunch of hamburgers, hot dogs, tacos and burritos, washed down with soda and wine. A return to the staterooms for a refresh while Tim went to the duplicate bridge group meeting (amazingly not located on the ship’s bridge.) We later determined that his team won and now he has a date for Thursday afternoon for some rematch play.
At 7:15 we all met up at the Lido Market cafeteria for a late, light, dinner. If you can imagine this group of grazers eating a “light” dinner you would conjure salmon, rice pasta and roast beef sandwiches. There was one salad in sight. We then embarked on a hilarious search to find a Titanic style prow of the ship to view the stars, trouping up and down the passageways, stairs and elevators, finding dead ends and Staff Only labeled doors. We finally gave up and tried to just go out on deck. Strong winds and rain forced us laughingly back in side. We browsed the shops, found a quiet library area, and finally headed to our staterooms for the end of another vacation day off the northeast coast at sea.
Finally, by 9:00 the ship was declared docked and passengers were allowed to disembark. Deb and Abigail have booked a thee hour coach tour to the destination of Peggy’s Cove, while the other three of us remain on board for a few hours to relax, read, and hang out. At 11:30, Deb Duggan and Mark venture off the ship to meet Deb and Abigail while Tim sticks on board to continue reading. Mark and Deb wander the shore side boardwalk, looking at the craft shops and taking advantage of the WI-FI to catch up on emails and such.
The tour to Peggy’s Cove and the iconic lighthouse showed Deb and Abigail some of the loveliest parts of Nova Scotia. Even though Nova Scotia is one of the smallest provinces in Canada, it has over 4000 miles of coastline with beautiful forests and the rocky granite that is only a few feet under the soil of the entire area. The tour guide pictured below (who reminded Deb of our friend Kevin,) provided detailed information on the area. For such a beautiful but small area, this has been involved in three major tragedies in the last 107 years, two which occurred in the Province.
The first was their acceptance of over 190 of the dead from the Titanic tragedy of April 15, 1912. Most were buried in three cemeteries in Halifax, one created in the form of a ship’s bow just for Titanic casualties. Many could not be identified and were buried with only their date of death and the number that they were tagged with corresponding to the order they were pulled from the water.
The worst tragedy was in 1917 when a French ship carrying armaments and fuel caught fire in Halifax Harbor. Thousands gathered in the harbor to watch the ship burn (the crew had jumped ship when the fire started), only to lose their lives when the ship exploded with the power and consequent devastation only eclipsed when Hiroshima was bombed. It changed the face of Halifax city forever. Thousands lost their lives and over 1000 people were blinded by flying glass. Boston was the first city to send medical help. Haligonians were so thankful that, to this day, they cut a large Christmas tree and send to Boston; it is installed in Boston Commons each year.
The third tragedy was again not of the making of Nova Scotia. 21 years ago, an Air France plane had a total electronic failure and nose-dived directly into St. Margaret’s Bay, near Peggy’s Cove. All aboard died but the people in the area pulled together to help with the retrieval of bodies and putting up relatives of the dead in their homes, as there were very few commercial inns at the time (this was pre AirBnB). There is a lovely monument dedicated to the people of Nova Scotia who helped comfort and aid those who had lost loved ones. It is also complete with the names of every passenger and their histories.
Abigail and Deb returned to the pier area at 12:30. They quickly made the stay-at-home troops feel remiss in skipping this tour. Halifax is a city of around 350,000 in the Nova Scotia Province of 1.1 million Canadian souls. The economy is based upon the sea: fishing, lobster fishing, shipping, military port and shipbuilding are among the largest industries.
We walked the boardwalk and shopped the craft stores open in the pier complex. Due to the Labor Day holiday, none of the stores in the Historic City area were open, hence, no yarn from Halifax!
We returned to the ship and located Tim. Then up to the 8th level Lido deck pool area for late lunch of hamburgers, hot dogs, tacos and burritos, washed down with soda and wine. A return to the staterooms for a refresh while Tim went to the duplicate bridge group meeting (amazingly not located on the ship’s bridge.) We later determined that his team won and now he has a date for Thursday afternoon for some rematch play.
At 7:15 we all met up at the Lido Market cafeteria for a late, light, dinner. If you can imagine this group of grazers eating a “light” dinner you would conjure salmon, rice pasta and roast beef sandwiches. There was one salad in sight. We then embarked on a hilarious search to find a Titanic style prow of the ship to view the stars, trouping up and down the passageways, stairs and elevators, finding dead ends and Staff Only labeled doors. We finally gave up and tried to just go out on deck. Strong winds and rain forced us laughingly back in side. We browsed the shops, found a quiet library area, and finally headed to our staterooms for the end of another vacation day off the northeast coast at sea.
Boston to Montreal, Sunday, September 1, 2019
It is worth noting that September 1 is an auspicious day to our travellers. It is the birth date of both
Deb Duggan’s mother Virginia Kaplan, born 1919, and Ann Covert, born 1922 (although she always
claimed 1923.) If not for them, this trip would not be occurring. Thanks and Happy birthday!
Awoke this morning at 6:00 AM for our in-cabin breakfast. Deb and Mark ordered a full breakfast for 6:00 AM delivery as our tour departs at 7:30 this morning. The Steward knocked on the door at 6:10 with our tray, I thank him, close the door and juggle the tray into an increasingly crowded space. First crisis of the day - no coffee on the tray! This is definitely a problem. A quick call to room service and the pot is delivered to save the day. We later find that Abigail’s breakfast included a pot of coffee - which she does not drink! So that’s where it went!
The three of us make our way down to the lower deck to meet our tender boat to be taken into Bar Harbor. Deb & Tim opt for a leisurely morning and we will meet them in town later. The three Covert crew board our van for a two and one-half hour tour of Acadia National Park and Desert Island. First thing we learn is that Bar Harbor is on an Island. Second thing we learn is that natives refer to it as Dessert Island and non-natives refer to is as Desert Island - either pronunciation is acceptable. Third thing we learn is that Acadia National Park is the only national park in which all of the land was donated for the park. It also is the smallest National Park in the system, only 44,000 acres. As our tour guide noted, that is one-half the size of Yellowstone Lake!
To understate - this park is crowded. The busy season is July through August. This is Labor Day weekend; the park is easily accessible for all of New England, less than a day’s drive from the busy metropolitan northeastern cities. That fact however, should not deter anyone who wants to see a unique environment. Situated on the Atlantic coast on a huge pile of granite, this island is an eye-opener. Originally settled over 12,000 years ago by the group of native peoples collectively called the Wabanaki, they sailed to the island in birch-bark canoes, fished, hunted and traded with each other. In 1604, French explorers “discovered” the island. During the next century and a half, the French and the British fought for control of the territory and in 1761 the British established the first European settlement on the island; the settlers fished, farmed and quarried granite.
In the mid 1800’s, Hudson Valley School painters began bringing back paintings of the area, and soon tourism reared its head inspiring wealthy city dwellers to build “cottages” as summer residences, transforming the quiet fishing and farming villages. Beginning in 1801, Harvard University President Charles Elliot, George Dorr and other conservation minded philanthropists began acquiring over 5,000 acres of land that they eventually donated to the federal government. In 1916 President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed the area a national monument, and in 1919 Congress designated it the first eastern national park.
The town of Bar Harbor is now chiefly fueled by tourism. Population year round of approximately 5,000 swells with over 4 million visitors per year to the park and surrounding area. With bitter winters and an average of 5 1/2 feet of snowfall per year, it is a seasonal business, with the successful merchants fleeing to Florida for the winter months.
We finished our tour and met Deb and Tim in town, shopped for some yarn (of course) and then staked out an outside table away from the bulk of the crowd for a lunch of clam chowder and lobster rolls. Wine, beer, and a blueberry infused cocktail were also consumed. A great lunch. The blueberry pie, made from wild picked blueberries was sublime - no sugar added and sweeter than any cultivated blueberry ever grown. The “whoopie” pie sandwich was also out of this world. Unfortunately, as we forged our way downhill and back towards the dock, there were multiple shop stops. The Coverts will now feature the only $50.00, Santa painted- lobster claw ornament in the Midwest this coming December. We found our way back to the tenders, boarded them in fine fashion and sailed back to the Zaandam by 3:00. The ship pulled anchor at 4:00 and we set sail for tomorrow’s destination of Halifax, Nova Scotia.
Abigail spent the balance of the afternoon on the top deck, swaddled in a wool blanket while she knitted, watching the ship depart and talking with people she met who wandered by. Tim went in search of a bridge game, found the assigned meeting room, only to have no one show up to play; he was forced to sit in the library and read a book - such a hardship for him. Deb and Deb each took a power nap in their rooms and I went up on deck to join Abigail and read for a while. We all then retreated to our staterooms to dress for dinner.
We first joined in the senior Coverts’ room for a cocktail and then at 7:00 headed to the dining room for our first formal shipboard dinner. This was billed as a “Gala” dinner evening; many of our fellow passengers were dressed in formal wear, but jeans and tee-shirts wee also in evidence. The evening’s meal included escargot, shrimp cocktails, peppered beef tenderloin, risotto, rack of lamb, sole fillet and other choices. While perfectly edible, there was nothing about the cuisine this night to do more than fill the void - the rolls and bread were commendable, the desserts passable, and the wine a nice Toscana.
Abigail retired after dinner while the four seniors found their way to a small concert of show tunes by a violin/piano duo. Lively music enjoyed while we let the meal settle. Back to our staterooms by 9:45 to prepare for bed. Tonight we lose an hour as the clocks are moved forward to Atlantic time zone. A nice day with good sightseeing., shopping and vacationing.
Awoke this morning at 6:00 AM for our in-cabin breakfast. Deb and Mark ordered a full breakfast for 6:00 AM delivery as our tour departs at 7:30 this morning. The Steward knocked on the door at 6:10 with our tray, I thank him, close the door and juggle the tray into an increasingly crowded space. First crisis of the day - no coffee on the tray! This is definitely a problem. A quick call to room service and the pot is delivered to save the day. We later find that Abigail’s breakfast included a pot of coffee - which she does not drink! So that’s where it went!
The three of us make our way down to the lower deck to meet our tender boat to be taken into Bar Harbor. Deb & Tim opt for a leisurely morning and we will meet them in town later. The three Covert crew board our van for a two and one-half hour tour of Acadia National Park and Desert Island. First thing we learn is that Bar Harbor is on an Island. Second thing we learn is that natives refer to it as Dessert Island and non-natives refer to is as Desert Island - either pronunciation is acceptable. Third thing we learn is that Acadia National Park is the only national park in which all of the land was donated for the park. It also is the smallest National Park in the system, only 44,000 acres. As our tour guide noted, that is one-half the size of Yellowstone Lake!
To understate - this park is crowded. The busy season is July through August. This is Labor Day weekend; the park is easily accessible for all of New England, less than a day’s drive from the busy metropolitan northeastern cities. That fact however, should not deter anyone who wants to see a unique environment. Situated on the Atlantic coast on a huge pile of granite, this island is an eye-opener. Originally settled over 12,000 years ago by the group of native peoples collectively called the Wabanaki, they sailed to the island in birch-bark canoes, fished, hunted and traded with each other. In 1604, French explorers “discovered” the island. During the next century and a half, the French and the British fought for control of the territory and in 1761 the British established the first European settlement on the island; the settlers fished, farmed and quarried granite.
In the mid 1800’s, Hudson Valley School painters began bringing back paintings of the area, and soon tourism reared its head inspiring wealthy city dwellers to build “cottages” as summer residences, transforming the quiet fishing and farming villages. Beginning in 1801, Harvard University President Charles Elliot, George Dorr and other conservation minded philanthropists began acquiring over 5,000 acres of land that they eventually donated to the federal government. In 1916 President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed the area a national monument, and in 1919 Congress designated it the first eastern national park.
The town of Bar Harbor is now chiefly fueled by tourism. Population year round of approximately 5,000 swells with over 4 million visitors per year to the park and surrounding area. With bitter winters and an average of 5 1/2 feet of snowfall per year, it is a seasonal business, with the successful merchants fleeing to Florida for the winter months.
We finished our tour and met Deb and Tim in town, shopped for some yarn (of course) and then staked out an outside table away from the bulk of the crowd for a lunch of clam chowder and lobster rolls. Wine, beer, and a blueberry infused cocktail were also consumed. A great lunch. The blueberry pie, made from wild picked blueberries was sublime - no sugar added and sweeter than any cultivated blueberry ever grown. The “whoopie” pie sandwich was also out of this world. Unfortunately, as we forged our way downhill and back towards the dock, there were multiple shop stops. The Coverts will now feature the only $50.00, Santa painted- lobster claw ornament in the Midwest this coming December. We found our way back to the tenders, boarded them in fine fashion and sailed back to the Zaandam by 3:00. The ship pulled anchor at 4:00 and we set sail for tomorrow’s destination of Halifax, Nova Scotia.
Abigail spent the balance of the afternoon on the top deck, swaddled in a wool blanket while she knitted, watching the ship depart and talking with people she met who wandered by. Tim went in search of a bridge game, found the assigned meeting room, only to have no one show up to play; he was forced to sit in the library and read a book - such a hardship for him. Deb and Deb each took a power nap in their rooms and I went up on deck to join Abigail and read for a while. We all then retreated to our staterooms to dress for dinner.
We first joined in the senior Coverts’ room for a cocktail and then at 7:00 headed to the dining room for our first formal shipboard dinner. This was billed as a “Gala” dinner evening; many of our fellow passengers were dressed in formal wear, but jeans and tee-shirts wee also in evidence. The evening’s meal included escargot, shrimp cocktails, peppered beef tenderloin, risotto, rack of lamb, sole fillet and other choices. While perfectly edible, there was nothing about the cuisine this night to do more than fill the void - the rolls and bread were commendable, the desserts passable, and the wine a nice Toscana.
Abigail retired after dinner while the four seniors found their way to a small concert of show tunes by a violin/piano duo. Lively music enjoyed while we let the meal settle. Back to our staterooms by 9:45 to prepare for bed. Tonight we lose an hour as the clocks are moved forward to Atlantic time zone. A nice day with good sightseeing., shopping and vacationing.
Boston to Montreal, Saturday, August 31, 2019
The morning broke beautifully clear, sunshine and quiet. Abigail and Mark walked around the block
to the McDonald’s facing Boston Commons to secure breakfast and caffeine. We returned, ate and
then began the big pack up. While working away, we noticed increasingly a loud and constant
noise. We looked out the window to discover two helicopters hovering above the area, evidently
over Boston Commons. Abigail, ever the techno-warrior, logged on to discover that there was a
parade scheduled, beginning at Boston Commons. The street in front of our hotel was blocked off
from traffic. To add insult to injury, it was an anti-Pride parade - Heteros are Upseteros! Really???
We checked out and dragged our bags a block and a half to meet our 12:45 Uber ride to the dock; lovely driver who got us to the pier in 20 minutes. There was heavy security all along the way where the parade was to occur, due to the possibility of anti-hetero activity. One can only hope. We made it easily through ship security, each of us with our allotted one bottle of wine in our carry on luggage. You are allowed more, but are then subject to an $18.00 per bottle corkage charge. Since most prices of the wine they were to be selling on board was $18.00 or more, it seemed foolish to bring additional. Deb was able to distract them with her re-built knee, so they forgot to check her carry-on for her extra bottles of soda. Ha!
We dutifully attended the mandatory life boat drill (attendance is taken) and then strolled the decks, acquainting ourselves with the amenities and areas to play, knit, gamble or look at the stars. We cast off shortly before 5:00 PM, and slowly made our way out of Boston harbor, bidding farewell to this clearly historic American city. We all promised one another that we would be back to really tour the city and not be distracted by visiting relatives, shopping or meetings.
First order of business was to stop at Guest Services to figure out how to access the Wi-Fi package we purchased, how to add the shipboard “navigator” to our cell phones, and other general information that somehow missed our grasp. The line was short (and filled with Baby-boomers.)
We returned to our “staterooms” for a quick refresher and then headed up to the Lido Deck for dinner, foregoing the dining room sit down this first night. As usually, for the novice among us, the food buffet was an eye-opener. We dined and learned how to take advantage of the wine or soda packages we had pre-purchased (not as easy as it seems,) and then headed out for more exploration. Abigail descended to her room for a little knitting, Deb, Deb, Tim and I found a bar to have a night cap in and we all returned for a sleep around 9:30. A tiring but fun first day on the water.
We checked out and dragged our bags a block and a half to meet our 12:45 Uber ride to the dock; lovely driver who got us to the pier in 20 minutes. There was heavy security all along the way where the parade was to occur, due to the possibility of anti-hetero activity. One can only hope. We made it easily through ship security, each of us with our allotted one bottle of wine in our carry on luggage. You are allowed more, but are then subject to an $18.00 per bottle corkage charge. Since most prices of the wine they were to be selling on board was $18.00 or more, it seemed foolish to bring additional. Deb was able to distract them with her re-built knee, so they forgot to check her carry-on for her extra bottles of soda. Ha!
We dutifully attended the mandatory life boat drill (attendance is taken) and then strolled the decks, acquainting ourselves with the amenities and areas to play, knit, gamble or look at the stars. We cast off shortly before 5:00 PM, and slowly made our way out of Boston harbor, bidding farewell to this clearly historic American city. We all promised one another that we would be back to really tour the city and not be distracted by visiting relatives, shopping or meetings.
First order of business was to stop at Guest Services to figure out how to access the Wi-Fi package we purchased, how to add the shipboard “navigator” to our cell phones, and other general information that somehow missed our grasp. The line was short (and filled with Baby-boomers.)
We returned to our “staterooms” for a quick refresher and then headed up to the Lido Deck for dinner, foregoing the dining room sit down this first night. As usually, for the novice among us, the food buffet was an eye-opener. We dined and learned how to take advantage of the wine or soda packages we had pre-purchased (not as easy as it seems,) and then headed out for more exploration. Abigail descended to her room for a little knitting, Deb, Deb, Tim and I found a bar to have a night cap in and we all returned for a sleep around 9:30. A tiring but fun first day on the water.
France, Wednesday, April 17, 2019
Bonjour. Happy Birthday to EBC III . Today is our last day in Paris and in France. We are up for our final breakfast and then out into the streets on a stunning day. We catch an Uber and ride to Sacre Cour, at the end taking the Funicular to the top. Howie and Lee tour the Church while Deb and Mark stroll the square, looking at people, pigeons and other assorted sites. After the church tour, we wander the horrifically crowded streets, stopping in the small shops to gaze at the merchandise. Eventually we settle in a cafe for a glass of wine and some pomme frites for our lunch.
We then start the trek down the steps, and split up for the afternoon. Howie and Lee go to explore Pigalle and a look at Moulin Rouge, following which they head for the long walk back towards the hotel and a nice stop for a sandwich and then a pleasant hour and a half at the Picasso Museum. The museum was showing a combination of Picasso works and Alexander Calder works; most interesting, but somewhere along the line, Howie misplaced his hat. That makes a hat and a wallet swallowed up by the City of Light.
Mark and Deb went on to the Metro stop at Abbesses to catch a subterranean ride to the Left Bank and our destination of Le Bien Aimee - a yarn shop, to pick up Abigail’s requested order of hand dyed yarn. After three train line changes, we arrive and step out into the sunshine for the amble to the cute little shop where we make our purchases and visit for a bit; then back towards Place d’Italie for the metro.
We take a break for another rest stop and then board the metro again to head back to the Bastille and a walk to our hotel. We arrive around 4:45 and head upstairs to pack and rest.
We meet back up with Howie and Lee to hear of their adventurous afternoon and plan for our last meal in Paris. We walk to Place du Marché St. Catherine, the small square near our hotel lined with small cafes - tres romantic. We choose the restaurant Le Marché, took a seat outside and dined on a crepe caramel, omelettes and tagliatellia followed by a creme brûlée dessert shared by all. A fitting end to our Parisian experience. We walked a few blocks to clear our digestive tracts and then to bed for our early morning wake-up.
France, Tuesday, April 16, 2019
Bonjour mes amis. Today starts with a drizzle outside, but we troopers suffer through our fruit compote, ham, cheese, baguettes and croissants with our normal stoicism and plot a day of museum trekking.
First off towards Notre Dame to survey the damage from the previous evening. The entire area is cordoned off, but we are able to take a picture from the bridge. People everywhere! We stop at a pharmacy for some ibuprofen to restock our supply and then head towards our first destination of Musee L’Orangerie, a long trek through the Tuileries garden to near the Place de la Concorde. We arrive around 11:30 and there are no lines! Because, of course, it is closed on Tuesdays, which we knew a day ago, but then forgot. Next we tromp back across the Seine to the Musee D’Orsay. Here lines snaked around the blocks.
As we sit to reorganize, realizing that with the Musee L’Orangerie and the Louvre closed on Tuesdays and now Notre Dame closed, the crowds of tourists must go somewhere. We opt not to stand in this queue as 3 of our 4 had been to the museum on previous trips. So, off we go towards the Musee Rodin. The lines here are not so long, and we enter. As we have now logged nearly 9,000 steps, and having visited this museum three previous times, Deb opts to sit in the coffee shop while the other three of us tour the grounds viewing the marvellous sculpture. We return to Deb at 1:30.
Disaster has occurred; Deb discovers that her wallet is missing. Our only choices for recovery are that it was left at the pharmacy or left in the Hotel this morning. The other possibility is that, when accosted for signatures to a petition near the bridge over the Seine, her pocket was picked. Deb and Mark head back to the pharmacy while Howie and Lee continue their tour of the Museum.
The pharmacy had not seen the missing wallet, so on back to the hotel. The wallet was not at the hotel, hence the arduous effort to cancel the credit cards and plan anew. Being good travelers, Mark, held a credit card not in Deb’s wallet and money was evenly split between the two. We will get by for the next few days, but a story to tell to all future clients with even more power.
Howie and Lee return after undertaking a further death march, going to Champs Élysées, Place de la Concorde, Palais Royale, and then back past Notre Dame for a final few pictures. They returned to the hotel shortly after 6:00, having logged a total of 25,000 steps. Mark and Deb’s 18,000 was a mere pittance. All 8 feet were in protest.
We finished the evening with an 8:00 dinner reservation at the Metropolitan Restaurant. We picked up this recommendation from Rick Steves’ book and this was easily the best meal of the trip so far. Appetizers of gnocchi, asparagus with a panko dipped, fried coddled egg, and a ceviche. Main courses of duck or veal and desserts of chocolate mousse, a flan, and a cheese platter. All washed down by and excellent Loire Valley wine. Lovely end to a somewhat crappy day.
First off towards Notre Dame to survey the damage from the previous evening. The entire area is cordoned off, but we are able to take a picture from the bridge. People everywhere! We stop at a pharmacy for some ibuprofen to restock our supply and then head towards our first destination of Musee L’Orangerie, a long trek through the Tuileries garden to near the Place de la Concorde. We arrive around 11:30 and there are no lines! Because, of course, it is closed on Tuesdays, which we knew a day ago, but then forgot. Next we tromp back across the Seine to the Musee D’Orsay. Here lines snaked around the blocks.
As we sit to reorganize, realizing that with the Musee L’Orangerie and the Louvre closed on Tuesdays and now Notre Dame closed, the crowds of tourists must go somewhere. We opt not to stand in this queue as 3 of our 4 had been to the museum on previous trips. So, off we go towards the Musee Rodin. The lines here are not so long, and we enter. As we have now logged nearly 9,000 steps, and having visited this museum three previous times, Deb opts to sit in the coffee shop while the other three of us tour the grounds viewing the marvellous sculpture. We return to Deb at 1:30.
Disaster has occurred; Deb discovers that her wallet is missing. Our only choices for recovery are that it was left at the pharmacy or left in the Hotel this morning. The other possibility is that, when accosted for signatures to a petition near the bridge over the Seine, her pocket was picked. Deb and Mark head back to the pharmacy while Howie and Lee continue their tour of the Museum.
The pharmacy had not seen the missing wallet, so on back to the hotel. The wallet was not at the hotel, hence the arduous effort to cancel the credit cards and plan anew. Being good travelers, Mark, held a credit card not in Deb’s wallet and money was evenly split between the two. We will get by for the next few days, but a story to tell to all future clients with even more power.
Howie and Lee return after undertaking a further death march, going to Champs Élysées, Place de la Concorde, Palais Royale, and then back past Notre Dame for a final few pictures. They returned to the hotel shortly after 6:00, having logged a total of 25,000 steps. Mark and Deb’s 18,000 was a mere pittance. All 8 feet were in protest.
We finished the evening with an 8:00 dinner reservation at the Metropolitan Restaurant. We picked up this recommendation from Rick Steves’ book and this was easily the best meal of the trip so far. Appetizers of gnocchi, asparagus with a panko dipped, fried coddled egg, and a ceviche. Main courses of duck or veal and desserts of chocolate mousse, a flan, and a cheese platter. All washed down by and excellent Loire Valley wine. Lovely end to a somewhat crappy day.
France, Monday, April 15, 2019
Bonjour. We are down to breakfast this morning at 8:30. A more complete breakfast today with fruit compote, juice, coffee, ham, Brie, and the usual assortment of breads and croissants. The only drawback is that we were only offered one cup of coffee and were unable to gain our servers’ attention for a second round.
Off we head for the Shoah Memorial, France’s Holocaust Museum. Although the literature said we should allow an hour for the tour of the permanent exhibition, we were in the Memorial for over three hours. A moving experience taking a timeline of anti-semitism and Nazi cooperation through to the discussion of 76,000 French Jews deported and only 2,500 of them returning after WWII. We toured the attached bookstore and then journeyed on for a rest stop of wine and beer at a sidewalk cafe. Then on to The Saint Chapelle for a tour of this 12th century chapel developed by King Louis IX, the first and only French king to be awarded sainthood - St. Louis.
The stained glass windows are amazing, outlining the life of the church from Genesis through the death of Jesus. The chapel sits on the Ille de la Citie, on one end of the Island shared with Norte Dame Cathedral. This island in the middle of the Seine was first colonized by a Gallic tripe called the Parissi in the 1st century and became renamed as Paris in the 5th century. Such history makes the 243 year old USA seem childlike.
Next we cross to the Left Bank to search out the famous Shakespeare & Co. Bookstore. This store, established in the 1920s carries English language books and has been a staple of the expatriate family of English and Americans ever since. The owner was the first person to publish Ulysses, the home away from home for Hemingway and Gertrude Stein. Now, expanding to the surrounding buildings adjoining, it is still selling books to the English language readers, and just tourists. As we approached, the line to enter the store stretched out and through to the street.
We stood in line and finally entered. There was no pressure and we spent a few fine minutes browsing as we do in any bookstore. However the crowds and the heat became over powering. We worked our way out without purchases, but glad for the experience. We then stepped down the block for our afternoon snack. Wine, beer, and Aperol Spritzer not accompany our Cheeseburgers and Hot Dog - French style. At least they were accompanied by the standard frites.
The cheeseburgers were very loosely formed patties, topped by a very runny cheese sauce. Also on the plate, together with the frites, was a small cup of guacamole and 4 tortilla chips. The Hot Dog was a baguette, split, with a foot long and grated Swiss Emmantel cheese, then cut in half. Not unflavorful but strange. We then head back towards our hotel, walking along the Seine, passing Notre Dame and stopping for an obligatory selfie from the bridge, and then on across the Îles St. Louis and back onto the right bank.
We arrive back around 6:30 and go to our rooms for a rest and to gather again for a plan for the balance of the evening. Lee finds a bucket of ice to cool down the champagne she had received as a Birthday gift from our landlady in Dinan and we decide to gather in our room to open. At 7:30, our phones start erupting with bulletins, and we gather in front of CNN to watch the unbelievable fire consuming the icon we had just spent hours skirting and walking around - Notre Dame. We watched, transfixed and astonished as the flames consumed and the spire came down. With that piece of news culminating our first day, we determined that we should call it a night around 10:00 and regroup for a plan for tomorrow.
France, Sunday, April 14, 2019
Fitting that this morning, Palm Sunday, we arise to look out over the square of Rouen Cathedral and see palm sellers lining the courtyard entry to the church, huddling in 32F chill. We pack our bags and head down to a wonderful breakfast, cereal, fruit, toast, yogurt, juice, coffee and the obligatory croissant. All while a grey long haired cat, almost a twin of our Sushi, wanders around the dining room looking for a scratch or rub.
We struggle with the bags to our car park and load up for the days run. Our only stop today before Paris is Giverney, the village of the home of Claude Monet, and the site of his home and gardens. We arrive at 10:30 and secure a parking place. Deb had, the night before, secured online prepaid tickets which allowed us to skip the entry queue and head for the group entrance where, after fumbling with the technology of tickets on a cell phone, we were through the gate.
There are two gardens, the famous lily pond gardens, which are across the road from the main grounds and then the beautiful beds surrounding the home. We start with the lily garden. If you never visit another garden, this is the one you must see - put it on your bucket list. Monet planned and planted this by painting with plants and then he famously painted the plants. The colors are wonderful, and blooming all year long as the early hyacinth, daffodils and tulips give way to the azaleas and rhododendrons, giving way to the roses and summer bloomers. All underplanted with a verdure that provides a base. All this surrounds a pond and stream crisscrossed with bridges and paths.
Next we stroll through the tunnel under the roadway to the house garden. Again painted with plants, but in a more orderly fashion. Row upon row of solid colors of tulips today, which will give way in a few weeks to the next wave of color. We eventually make our way into the house to walk through his gallery, studded with his own paintings and the hallways and other rooms hung with those of his friends, Pissarro, Renoir, Manet. All are reproductions, as otherwise there would be armed guards everywhere, but the illusion is masterful. The background of the yellow walls or the blue walls makes the home itself a work of art. Once arriving at the obligatory gift shop, we end up spending as much time as in the home itself.
We next stop at a nearby restaurant for our afternoon meal; memorable only in that the servings of quiche were nearly two inches thick and as large as a piece of pizza. Only that the flavor would have matched the size. The omelette on offer was also large and as tasteless as a 1/2 inch thick piece of fried cardboard.
Onto the highway and heading to Paris. As we are required to return the vehicle fully fuelled up, we stop on the outskirts and top off with €100.02 ($112.00) of diesel fuel. Sticker Shock!
We fight our way around Charles DeGaulle airport, at least twice until we discover our rental car drop off sight. Unloaded we walk to the nearest taxi stand for the long ride into Paris proper. Even on a Sunday, traffic is heavy, but we finally arrive at our hotel, Les Tournelles, around 6:00. We leave the bags in our rooms, rest for a few minutes and then off to explore the area of the Marais. By 8:30 we are ready to eat and so head back to the hotel and a nearby brasserie for a bite. Soup, crepes and sandwich with some wine and beer. Then to bed for our next days’ exploration of the City of Light.
France, Saturday, April 13, 2019
Mes Amis, today we are up and packed and at the breakfast table by 8:30. As today is another travel day, we put our belongings in the big blue beast and head out to look for a last museum in Bayeux. Alas, it doesn’t open until 10:00 and we have to get down the road. By the time we find our way out of the byzantine one-way streets and road construction zones we could have probably made the visit! Shades of Omaha during road construction season - lots of orange cones.
Finally on the highway and headed east to our eventual destination of Rouen. We take a slight detour to check out the village of Cabourg and its hotels along the beach. After negotiating a pedestrians only road along the beach and escaping before the Gendarmerie find us to issue a ticket, we are back on the road. We make a pitstop for coffee at a roadside restaurant called Flunch (not a typo) and pull into Rouen around 12:30. Again, we encounter construction and pedestrians.
Rouen is a nearly 2,000 year old city that has been ruled by Romans, Normans, English and French over the ages. It is famous as the death spot for Jean D’Arc and for its cathedral. After finding the cathedral parking garage and squeezing the beast into a very tight spot on the first underground level, we abandon our luggage and go looking for our hotel, The Cardinal Hotel. Amazingly, we have found the nearest parking spot to the hotel, as the place is directly across the square from the Cathedral. However the square is under reconstruction , so there are some twists and turns to be navigated on foot.
Rouen, in the old central city, is pretty much confined to pedestrian ways so we will not need the car during the visit. We check into our hotel and solicit a recommendation for lunch. We walk a few blocks and alight at The Studio cafe. Pictures of French and American movie stars adorn the walls. We have an excellent lunch of andouille sausage with apples, or sea bass and salmon over cheesy risotto, or braised pork cheek with mashed potatoes. Dessert is cheese or a shared creme brûlée. All accompanied by some wine and beer. A most satisfying luncheon.
We make haste back to the car park and unload our luggage, dragging it through the construction zones back to the hotel for a quick unload and break, then off to explore this city. We are first looking for the Ossiary of the Church of St. Maclou. This is an area were they have excavated bones from the early Middle Ages, which were buried under the church. Unfortunately the display is closed on the weekends, so we strike out. As we wander the little streets around the cathedral and environments, we pop in and out of little shops, finding items that we nearly purchase, but nothing sticks.
We wander into the Cathedral, which is huge, under reconstruction and apparently all set up for the throngs of people expected tomorrow for Palm Sunday. Very nice but, our taste for cathedrals is waning. this is our fourth, or maybe fifth on this trip. They tend to blur together.
Our next quest is the site of the burning at the stake of Jean D’Arc. We find it via our tourist map, next to the ugliest church imaginable. This Eglise Jean D’Arc is an upswept modern structure covered in what appear to be imitation slate tiles. The church was not open, so there is no way to report on its interior, although, given the large number of stained windows apparent from the exterior, it may have looked much better from the inside. The actual burning site is marked by a large cross outside the church entry and is surrounded by a park, under construction.
Next we want to find the Couronne Restaurant, reputed to be France’s oldest, founded in 1345. (Jean D’Arc was brûlée in 1431, so this restaurant, if dated actually, was not playing off her notoriety.) We google it and set off, finding that we are taken around the block and back to our starting point. We had already passed it and didn’t know it! It faces the Jean D’Arc church. This restaurant is the one that Julia Child first dined in the day she arrived in France, and it awakened her to French food and her entire career, setting the stage for TV stardom and millions of American aspiring cooks and chefs. There was one reservation available for 8:00, but this seems too late for us. We have had enough of getting up from the dinner table at 10:00 and struggling back to fall asleep.
We split into couples and head back separately exploring for awhile. The Coverts find a supermarket and secure a bottle of wine, a baguette and some cheese and crackers to share in their hotel room. Needelman’s shop a bit and then find a creperie for an omelette crepe and a glass of beer.
An early evening for all as we wind down this penultimate day of driving around France. Tomorrow, we go to Giverny and then to Paris to drop the car.
France, Friday, April 12, 2019
Bonjour again my friends. We arise this morning to a sunny but cool day. We breakfast again on croissants, butter, jam, baguettes, juice and coffee. A pattern seems to be developing?
First on foot to the Bayeux Tapestry museum that we missed yesterday. We arrive early, 9:15, and miss the first rush of crowds. What a wonderful piece of history. This tapestry, created between 1070 and 1080 gives a contemporaneous history of the 1066 Battle of Hastings and the events leading up to William the Conqueror’s ascent to the throne of England. The entire tapestry is some 70 meters long and is displayed in a continuous glass case at eye level in one light controlled room. You are accompanied by a handheld audio device that narrates what you are seeing. What a way to learn history. It was one of the most educational trips to a museum I have ever experienced. We recommend that, if you are not familiar with this piece of history, take a moment to google it on your devices.
Next we mount our vehicle for the drive to the town of Arromanche, the site of the WWII Normandy landings. We view, again the museum with a wonderful guided tour of the displays outlining the incredible engineering feat required to create a man-made harbour here, under enemy fire, in order to supply the invading Allied forces. 70 ton concrete breakfronts towed across the English Channel, 100 old ships sailed across the channel and sunk stem to stern around the harbour to creat a barrier for the harbour, huge steel roadways that would float up and down with the tides to allow the loading of the trucks, one every 5 seconds, that would bring all the supplies ashore for the troops. Our second most educational museum stop of the day.
From there, we traveled a short few kilometres, stopping first at the American Military Cemetery. Truly magnificent; row upon row of orderly white crosses, interspersed with an occasional Star of David; monuments to commemorate over 25,000 troops that lost their life on European soil during the D-Day invasion. 9100 troops are buried here. Howie said that the scope and view of this cemetery is even more moving than that in Arlington National Cemetery.
Next a few more kilometres to walk Omaha Beach. This, along with the adjoining Utah Beach, was the landing point for the U.S. landing force. This point was the toughest fought battle along the landing points. A crescent shaped beach front in cliffs upon which only 500 German soldiers in 11 concrete machine gun emplacements on the cliffs mowed down thousands of invading soldiers. As the literature says, the beaches ran red with blood. Seeing the area in person brings it all to reality. We stop at the nearby restaurant for a snack of wine, beer and frites.
Next we travel another 10 kilometres to the German military cemetery. This also, in a different way, was a moving place. Here some 21,000 soldiers are buried, two to a grave stone marker set flush to the ground and interspersed every few rows with a series of 5 squat black basalt crosses - no Star of David here - in row upon row. The contrast of the liberator (orderly white gleaming markers for the American cemetery) and the low dark humility of the conquered (German cemetery) creates for us a sad commentary on the human race and all the misery we perpetrate upon one another.
We drive back to home base, Bayeux, scoring a primo parking place near the hotel. Then off to dinner at Le Florentine, a nice Italian restaurant, for some of the best pizza, with a crisp thin crust and light tasty toppings we have ever enjoyed, accompanied by house wine and some local French beer, the only thing to top it was the dessert of caramel covered ice cream with a whipped cream dab on top. We poured into bed around 10:00 and prepared for another day of travel tomorrow.
First on foot to the Bayeux Tapestry museum that we missed yesterday. We arrive early, 9:15, and miss the first rush of crowds. What a wonderful piece of history. This tapestry, created between 1070 and 1080 gives a contemporaneous history of the 1066 Battle of Hastings and the events leading up to William the Conqueror’s ascent to the throne of England. The entire tapestry is some 70 meters long and is displayed in a continuous glass case at eye level in one light controlled room. You are accompanied by a handheld audio device that narrates what you are seeing. What a way to learn history. It was one of the most educational trips to a museum I have ever experienced. We recommend that, if you are not familiar with this piece of history, take a moment to google it on your devices.
Next we mount our vehicle for the drive to the town of Arromanche, the site of the WWII Normandy landings. We view, again the museum with a wonderful guided tour of the displays outlining the incredible engineering feat required to create a man-made harbour here, under enemy fire, in order to supply the invading Allied forces. 70 ton concrete breakfronts towed across the English Channel, 100 old ships sailed across the channel and sunk stem to stern around the harbour to creat a barrier for the harbour, huge steel roadways that would float up and down with the tides to allow the loading of the trucks, one every 5 seconds, that would bring all the supplies ashore for the troops. Our second most educational museum stop of the day.
From there, we traveled a short few kilometres, stopping first at the American Military Cemetery. Truly magnificent; row upon row of orderly white crosses, interspersed with an occasional Star of David; monuments to commemorate over 25,000 troops that lost their life on European soil during the D-Day invasion. 9100 troops are buried here. Howie said that the scope and view of this cemetery is even more moving than that in Arlington National Cemetery.
Next a few more kilometres to walk Omaha Beach. This, along with the adjoining Utah Beach, was the landing point for the U.S. landing force. This point was the toughest fought battle along the landing points. A crescent shaped beach front in cliffs upon which only 500 German soldiers in 11 concrete machine gun emplacements on the cliffs mowed down thousands of invading soldiers. As the literature says, the beaches ran red with blood. Seeing the area in person brings it all to reality. We stop at the nearby restaurant for a snack of wine, beer and frites.
Next we travel another 10 kilometres to the German military cemetery. This also, in a different way, was a moving place. Here some 21,000 soldiers are buried, two to a grave stone marker set flush to the ground and interspersed every few rows with a series of 5 squat black basalt crosses - no Star of David here - in row upon row. The contrast of the liberator (orderly white gleaming markers for the American cemetery) and the low dark humility of the conquered (German cemetery) creates for us a sad commentary on the human race and all the misery we perpetrate upon one another.
We drive back to home base, Bayeux, scoring a primo parking place near the hotel. Then off to dinner at Le Florentine, a nice Italian restaurant, for some of the best pizza, with a crisp thin crust and light tasty toppings we have ever enjoyed, accompanied by house wine and some local French beer, the only thing to top it was the dessert of caramel covered ice cream with a whipped cream dab on top. We poured into bed around 10:00 and prepared for another day of travel tomorrow.
France, Thursday, April 11, 2019
Note to all: You may eventually receive this post with pictures, but for now I am sending without photos as the various wi-fi systems in the hotels we are staying do not always transmit pictures well. I will resend with photos when we get to good wi-fi places - i.e. Paris.
Bonjour mon Amis! We arise this morning to a much more comfortable day than yesterday. After packing up and schlepping our bags down the two flights of stairs, or across the garden, we stop for another lovely breakfast from our hosts. Today, again we had croissants, butter, jam, baguettes, coffee and egg cream - which is a cold creme brûlée without the burned crust on top - very tasty but a bit sweet.
We pack up the beast and head this morning to Mont Saint Michel, on the north coast of France, just at the edge of the region of Normandy. For those who have never heard or seen pictures of Mont St. Michel, it is an island mount some 100 yards off the coast, isolated at high tide. This is quite the tourist production now, huge parking lots some 3-4 kilometres from the attraction- you walk to the shuttle bus loading areas. Parenthetically, these shuttle buses are unlike any seen before. There is a driver’s position at either end. When the driver pulls in for pick up of a load, he steps out of the vehicle, walks around to the other end, and assumes his new position. No turning around and quite efficient.
The original purpose is as a monastery and abbey. It is still a functioning church, and we witnessed a service in progress as we wandered through. The winding streets as you make your way up to the abbey are flanked by myriads of small shops and restaurants, all catering to the throng of tourists - and throng is the only word to use. Even this early in the season, with the cold wind blowing, there're people everywhere - young children bored out of their heads, old people struggling to climb the steps, and every age in between.
We stood in line for nearly an hour to buy the tickets and enter the abbey itself. Prices of entry was €10.00 but free if you were a family of 4 with children or under the age of 26. Curious but we suppose designed to encourage education.
Once inside the huge abbey, the crowd was swallowed up and it was unusually sparse - it was a huge building. We finished our self guided tour and then out and down the hill to find a restaurant (by this time 1:30 in the afternoon) and stood in another line for 1/2 hour. The food was so-so but the problem was that half of our foursome received food, while, after 30 minutes the other half had not we finally spoke up and then received the food, although not really worth it but conveniently, touristically over priced!
We took our leave, walked down the mount and waited for shuttle buses back to our car park. Off then to the city of Bayeux, our headquarters for the next two nights.
Along the way, on the four lane highway, we discovered a McDonalds! We pulled in for a rest break. Marvellously modern and unlike any we had seen before, although, admittedly, none of us are habitue’s of the establishment. A Coke and a few chocolate sundaes later and we were back on the road.
We arrived around 5:45, and then beat feet to the tapestry museum to get that off our list. We arrived at 6:00 to view before the 6:30 closing. Unfortunately the doors close at 5:45 for clearing of the museum. Oh well, we get an “A” for effort.
We check into our abode, the Hotel Churchill, city center but again no parking lot, which means secureing a metered spot on the street. Finally a room on the first floor with a nice shower, TV and a king sized bed. We find the recommended restaurant for what we thought would be a light meal. Soup and Charcuterie/cheese board with a bottle wine. We received all off this, but we arrived at 7:00 PM and finally took our leave at 9:15 PM. Speedy service is a foreign concept to the French, as is an early bedtime. We were exhausted, but agreed that it again was a good day.
Bonjour mon Amis! We arise this morning to a much more comfortable day than yesterday. After packing up and schlepping our bags down the two flights of stairs, or across the garden, we stop for another lovely breakfast from our hosts. Today, again we had croissants, butter, jam, baguettes, coffee and egg cream - which is a cold creme brûlée without the burned crust on top - very tasty but a bit sweet.
We pack up the beast and head this morning to Mont Saint Michel, on the north coast of France, just at the edge of the region of Normandy. For those who have never heard or seen pictures of Mont St. Michel, it is an island mount some 100 yards off the coast, isolated at high tide. This is quite the tourist production now, huge parking lots some 3-4 kilometres from the attraction- you walk to the shuttle bus loading areas. Parenthetically, these shuttle buses are unlike any seen before. There is a driver’s position at either end. When the driver pulls in for pick up of a load, he steps out of the vehicle, walks around to the other end, and assumes his new position. No turning around and quite efficient.
The original purpose is as a monastery and abbey. It is still a functioning church, and we witnessed a service in progress as we wandered through. The winding streets as you make your way up to the abbey are flanked by myriads of small shops and restaurants, all catering to the throng of tourists - and throng is the only word to use. Even this early in the season, with the cold wind blowing, there're people everywhere - young children bored out of their heads, old people struggling to climb the steps, and every age in between.
We stood in line for nearly an hour to buy the tickets and enter the abbey itself. Prices of entry was €10.00 but free if you were a family of 4 with children or under the age of 26. Curious but we suppose designed to encourage education.
Once inside the huge abbey, the crowd was swallowed up and it was unusually sparse - it was a huge building. We finished our self guided tour and then out and down the hill to find a restaurant (by this time 1:30 in the afternoon) and stood in another line for 1/2 hour. The food was so-so but the problem was that half of our foursome received food, while, after 30 minutes the other half had not we finally spoke up and then received the food, although not really worth it but conveniently, touristically over priced!
We took our leave, walked down the mount and waited for shuttle buses back to our car park. Off then to the city of Bayeux, our headquarters for the next two nights.
Along the way, on the four lane highway, we discovered a McDonalds! We pulled in for a rest break. Marvellously modern and unlike any we had seen before, although, admittedly, none of us are habitue’s of the establishment. A Coke and a few chocolate sundaes later and we were back on the road.
We arrived around 5:45, and then beat feet to the tapestry museum to get that off our list. We arrived at 6:00 to view before the 6:30 closing. Unfortunately the doors close at 5:45 for clearing of the museum. Oh well, we get an “A” for effort.
We check into our abode, the Hotel Churchill, city center but again no parking lot, which means secureing a metered spot on the street. Finally a room on the first floor with a nice shower, TV and a king sized bed. We find the recommended restaurant for what we thought would be a light meal. Soup and Charcuterie/cheese board with a bottle wine. We received all off this, but we arrived at 7:00 PM and finally took our leave at 9:15 PM. Speedy service is a foreign concept to the French, as is an early bedtime. We were exhausted, but agreed that it again was a good day.
France, Wednesday, April 10, 2019
Bonjour and Happy Birthday to Lee. As we step down to the breakfast table this morning, we are beginning to catch up on our body time changes. Wonderful croissants, coffee, baguette, juice, yogurt and butter. We lift a proverbial glass to Lee and threaten to sing Happy Birthday, but, with protests from the surrounding guests, decide to leave it at best wishes.
This morning the weather is raining/drizzling and cool so we head out to the historic city of St. Malo, some 30 kilometres up the road. St. Malo is an ancient city that eventually displaced Dinan, on the river Rance, from its economic power - St. Malo is at the mouth of the Rance and boasts a much deeper harbor. Again, this was originally a walled city and is now surrounded by suburbs. However the original city and its walls (ramparts) are still intact and it has become much the tourist destination.
Small winding streets are, due to the inclement weather, rather uncrowded this morning. We wander the streets, looking in all the shop windows and reading the historical signs around and about. Around noon, we spot a creperie restaurant up on the rampart wall boasting a sea view. As the classic food in Breton is a crepe filled with either savoury or sweet fillings, we head up and secure four places at one of the communal tables. As we survey the menu, the youngest member of the threesome at our table suddenly stops her french discussion with the waiter, and addresses us in perfect American English.
We find out that she is an American from Louisiana here in France teaching English. She is today accompanying her aunt and uncle from Indianapolis and suddenly we seven Americans are chattering away about basketball, travel and luckily for us, the menu and what to order. We find that hard cider rather than wine, is the drink of Breton and order a pitcher of this 2% alcoholic beverage to go with our sausage, chicken and andouille galettes. We end with some coffee and a sugary crepe with whipped cream for dessert. A wonderful and native lunch in a bit of a touristy restaurant with a marvellous view of the sea (although cloudy and rainy, so much is left to our imagination, view wise.)
We head back out with the intent of walking the rampart around to our starting point. Soon, the wind and cold drive us off the wall and back down to the city lanes. We retrieve our car from yet another underground car park and head south back towards Dinan. We take the scenic route through the old port city of Dinan, gazing at these wonderful stone homes clinging to the cliffs overlooking the river Rance and its journey towards the sea. The scenery is very reminiscent of Cornwall and its rugged sea coast and small villages. It is easy to see that this was once a British colony and how the citizens of Breton cling to their Celtic heritage and ways.
We return to our hotel around 3:00, secure a parking lot stall and repair to our rooms for some rest and reading time. We reconvene at 6:00 and head to our restaurant of choice in the old city; Les 3 Lunes - The three Moons - is our restaurant of choice. A gourmet menu establishment owned and operated by Chef Thierry Teffaine and his wife Magali. (The third moon is their child who was not in attendance.) Our choices for the evening were lamb, pork loin and steak. The amuse bouche was a gelatin of salmon with small tomatoes topped by creme fraise. Vegetable on offer was asparagus accompanied by a creamy buttery sauce with a poached egg submerged. We dipped and spread the sauce over the properly cooked white asparagus! We selected a Loire Valley Pinot Noir as our wine and ended the evening with three desserts - a blanc manger fraisboise (raspberry), a baked Alaska and a selection of cheeses. A long and leisurely dinner.
We sauntered back to the hotel and were tucked in by 10:30. A relatively easy but interesting and educational day.
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