This photo is from the Olympic stadium, of huge sculpture (?) that represents the athlete.
Wednesday, December 31, 2003
Happy New Year!!
Happy New Year all! I'm excited that we get to be the first (out of everyone I know) to say it. Movie, dinner, before dinner drink, 1/2 bottle of wine, after dinner drink, dessert, coffee and a walk in sub-zero temps back to the car for my birthday! Spoke to Ky via internet and Mom on the cell phone and left a message for J, thanks for all the birthday wishes. Have had enough to drink to kill a rhino so off to bed with me (after 2 tylenol and a litre of water). Hope you all have a year full of whatever you wish. Love from France.
This photo is from the Olympic stadium, of huge sculpture (?) that represents the athlete.
This photo is from the Olympic stadium, of huge sculpture (?) that represents the athlete.
Monday, December 29, 2003
Barcelona
You know, you all, my faithful Blog readers, are a tough crowd. I mention I’m going to Barcelona and the second I get back you all want to hear about it right NOW. Ok, fine, just let me catch my breath.
First let’s say that Barcelona can not be done as a whirlwind tour. Go… take a week… there is so much to see and Barcelona is one of the most tourist friendly towns that it has ever been my privilege to visit. (Well except for the whole unfortunate highway incident, but we’ll get to that)
They speak two main languages in Barcelona (and mercifully one of them wasn’t French). Catalan, which is very like Spanish in the way that the language the British speak is like English, only worse. Let’s say that, if put to it, I could understand enough to get the gist of a conversation, but that I would have to respond in Spanish. The other language is of course Spanish. Well, Castilian Spanish which is a better example of the whole previously mentioned British analogy. (Confused yet?) The only thing about the Spanish is the whole lisping thing. Everything that has an ‘s’ in it is pronounced with a sort of lisping ‘th’ sound, the effect being that it sounds like your trying to talk with marbles under your tongue and I think it makes all the men sound completely gay. (Sorry, complete stereotype, I know).
In all seriousness though never discount the psychological benefits of traveling in a country whose language you speak. I almost hated to come back to France because for the first time in weeks (months) people understood me and I understood them. You folks have no idea how demoralizing and frustrating it can be to not be able to ask for so much as bread without it turning into ‘a thing’.
The city of Barcelona itself is situated in a very hilly coastal part of Spain. The area is basically foothills of the Pyrenees next to the Mediterranean. It’s huge but, more importantly, it is blessed with a variety of architecture that I’ve never before seen. The Gothic cathedrals are breathtaking, but even more so are some of their more famous modernist buildings. There are also many buildings that seem to have a very Middle Eastern, Moroccan flair to them.
In my humble opinion the ‘pièce du résistance’, the crowning piece of architecture is the temple of La Sagrada Familia. If you follow that link it will take you to a brief history of the structure, go there, it’ll save me having to repeat the 5 paragraphs here. Let me say that the concept originated in 1866 and has been under almost constant construction since 1881. The work is now under the direction of its third architect. The temple has a different façade from almost every angle (each façade representing a different part of Christ’s life) and after over a hundred years it is still little more than a shell held up by scaffolding and permanent residence to 4 or 5 large cranes. It would take so much room on this site to post all the necessary photos (do not want to anger the generous Blogger crew) so go HERE instead, they’re not our photos but they’re a good substitute. The temple is being built with private funds and donations (so give early and give often).
On the first day we followed the signs to the center of the city. This was easier than you would imagine in a city the size of Barcelona. The cool thing is that the city has a series of tunnels that actually go under hills and vast parts of the city itself. You can avoid huge sections of city which means avoiding tons of traffic lights and traffic. Of course you have to pay to use the tunnels but, trust me, definitely worth the 2.44€.
Several miles and tunnels toward the center of town we found ourselves at MNAC (Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya), which is like the central jewel in the crown which is central Barcelona. In front of MNAC are the ‘Magic Fountains’ which lead to ‘Plaça Espanya’ and the fountain of ‘Los Tres Mares’. The whole area reminded me strongly of the Balboa park museum campus in San Diego. MNAC is flanked by other museums and a replica of a Spanish medieval city that was built in 1929. Behind MNAC are the Olympic Stadium, the swimming venue and the main Olympic square. Also there, is giant sculpture that looks like a needle with a ring around it but which our tour guide said was meant to represent an athlete. The thing is so huge and distinctive that it can be seen from miles around. If you stand at the Olympic stadium (built for the 1992 Olympics) You can see beautiful panoramic views of the city in every direction.
The one odd thing about the MNAC area was the cats. Cats, yes cats, they were everywhere and we’re not talking feral or stray cats. These cats belonged there. They all wore collars and looked well fed. I can only speculate as to why they were there, but there was no doubt that they lived and were cared for in that area.
While on our initial walk around central Barcelona we discovered a tour bus company that, for a small fee, offered transportation to all the major sites. This seemed to be a perfect way to see the city, so the next day that’s what we did.
This is where our first day ended and the first highway nightmare took place. Let’s say here that I can laugh about it now. For a blow by blow visit S’s site.
The next day we purchased tickets for our bus tour, at 15€ per person it was a steal. The tour consisted of a northern route (the blue route) and a southern route (the red route) There were many stops along the way at tons of sites including cathedrals, parks, buildings of architectural note, palaces and the harbor. A one day pass allowed you to get on and off at any stop you wanted as many times as you wanted. Time being the key word here as there is no way that you could get off and see all the stops in one day.
Also key is that you had to be waiting at the company’s stop when the bus arrived. (This particular tour companies stops had big eyes on them. You can see the eye at the bottom right of the Starbuck’s picture I posted). The tour company would not stop for you if you tried to wave them down when you missed them by mere seconds. (Not that this could have possibly happened to us!) You either waited for the next bus, which would be along in 13 to 25 minutes or ran/walked to the next stop so you could at least sightsee a bit while waiting for the next bus to come along. The tour guides provided commentary in Spanish, Catalan and English. Depending on the guide you could also hear it in French and German.
The other consideration was the weather, or more precisely, the temperature. The first day on our own it must have been 60°, we ended up having to shed coats and I began to regret the turtleneck I was wearing. But the actual day of our tour I don’t think it got above 40° which is pretty damned chilly sitting in the wind of the upper deck of a moving bus. But that was the best place to take photos. The other down side of it being winter was that many of the sites were being repaired, winter not being prime tourist season, the sites would be swaddled in netting (to protect pedestrians from falling debris) and/or hidden behind scaffolding. S dragged me well off the beaten path to photograph the front of a beautiful gothic cathedral, only to arrive and find it covered in green netting with only the two tallest spires peaking out of the top.
Our first stop on the bus tour was the ‘Poble Espanyol de Montjuïc’, Built in 1929 for the International Exhibition of the same year it is one of the city’s main leisure venues. It was built to resemble an authentic Spanish town. It has many bars and restaurants as well as several art museums, but its main feature is the artisan shops. These shops featured the work of wood, glass, leather, wool and clay artisans. Many of the artisans offered workshops during the day too. Ok, can we say shopping!
We wandered around the little pseudo town and bought some stuff here and there. We visited one of the museums which featured some pottery by Picasso and the work of modern artists who worked in the Picasso style. Odd place.
We wanted to come back for dinner but didn’t want to wait an hour for the restaurants to open so we could make a reservation. So on with the tour.
We hopped a bus that took us past the Olympic park to an aerial tramway, that wasn’t running. We got off there because the bus was too crowded and I couldn’t handle it. Then we walked passed the next stop which was, well, basically a cactus garden. As if we haven’t seen yuccas and ocotillos before. So we walked on down the hill for about a mile to find the next stop at the harbor. The next stop was in a giant circle where the ‘Mirador de Colom’ stands atop an extremely high column pointing of into the distance. (Go west young man?) We caught the next bus there and got seats on the upper deck so we could take unobstructed pictures. On to tour the ports, ‘Port Vell’ and then further east to ‘Port Olimpic’. ‘Port Vell’ featured restaurants, an Imax theatre, an aquarium and lots of boats. ‘Port Olimpic’ featured the two tallest buildings in Barcelona and the Olympic village where the athletes lived; these buildings have been converted to apartments. The whole village is quite beautiful and is saturated with sculptures and free form art work of every description.
Then whirlwind drive-bys of the ‘Parc de la Ciutadella’ which features the Barcelona Zoo, the ‘Museu d’Art Modern and the ‘Parlament de Catalunya’. This in itself would be a full day. It features about 6 other museums too.
Then ‘Pla de Palua’ (Plaça del Palacio – Plaza of the Palace) Yeah, weird some stuff was titled in Catalan and some in Spanish. By now it’s getting onto 3:00 pm and breakfast was long ago. We got off at ‘Barri Gothic’ which is Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter. This is where Barcelona’s two thousand years of history originates. You can still see parts of the city walls and Roman city. Here again another full day’s adventure. This is the part where S drags me down side streets to get a good shot of the Cathedral only to find it swathed in green netting. Boy was he bummed. Then back to the stop where we got off to find Pizza Hut for a quick lunch. We ate at Pizza Hut because our tour package included discounts to museums and such and a discount at Pizza Hut. There is a Pizza Hut near every major venue in this city. We ate and asked for ‘ la cuenta’. By the time the stinkin’ teenagers brought back our change though our next bus was passing by the window, we missed it. Though two other tourists who were a bit closer tried to flag them down too and they wouldn’t stop. Great, hang here for another ± 20 minutes or walk the mile to next stop. So walk it was. We walked to ‘Plaça de Catalunya’ this is the main square where the city’s main thoroughfares radiate from. Also another whole days adventure with the opera house, the ‘Teatre del Liceu’, and the ‘Palau de la Música’ which is a stunning jewel of the modernist era and an absolute must see sight.
Then to ‘Passeig de Gràcia’ the 19th century neighborhood that features an abundance of modernist style buildings. The modernist buildings are referred to as Catalan art nouveau and are sites not to be missed. (see what I mean, everything is a site not to be missed, you need a solid week here.)
This is where time became an issue, it’s almost 4:00 it’ll be completely dark by 5:30/6:00 and we’ve just begun the red route of the tour. We can’t get off anymore or we’ll never see everything and it’s starting to get f*&#$ing cold on that upper deck of the bus.
My main thing was that I had to see ‘La Sagrada Familia’. From a distance the structure is evident only by the preponderance of construction cranes. But as you actually come up to it you can see the shell of the structure with miles of scaffolding inside. We took some photos but didn’t get off the bus. This is where I had my Starbuck’s sighting as the bus was pulling away from the stop. I tried not to cry and snapped a picture.
Next Park Güell named after Gaudi’s (Gaudi the primary architect and visionary of Sagrada Familia and other structures in the city) great patron, Count Eusebi Güell. The park was initially meant to be a neighborhood but only Gaudi’s actual residence was ever completed and now houses a museum of Gaudi’s work.
Then a monastery, then the Royal Palace, then the Barcelona Futbol stadium, then…then it really started to get cold and we got off to switch busses and head back to our parked car.
Then on to the second highway nightmare. (See S’s blog)
Dinner and drinks at the hotel and then fall into bed in complete exhaustion. The next day we had breakfast and headed home. I want to go back to Barcelona though. With more time available next time. Though during the highway nightmares S swore he would never return. Hopefully in hindsight it won’t seem so bad. I loved Barcelona and want to move there now. S however refuses to commute internationally, party pooper.
We tried to squeeze our visit into a weekend so S could be back to work on Monday. Where a good portion of the French took the whole two weeks off, S did not, he even worked on Christmas Eve. And they say that Americans are workaholics…hmm go figure. He will however be taking off the day of my birthday and New Years day.
Well, that’s it in a nutshell then (well the shell of a really BIG nut anyway…ok, never mind, just too many place to go with that). (Perhaps the 4th cup of coffee was a mistake.) Off to shower and dress…yes I have been speaking to you in my jammies, unwashed and with foul breath. Hey you have to write when the Blogging juices are flowing. If you stop to clean up first, the juices go elsewhere and then it’s 4 or 5 days before they come back, and by that time you’ve forgotten the details. Alright off I go, and hey don’t tell mom about this, she’d be so embarrassed, she raised me better (I should have at least brushed my teeth). Oh, dad, white out this paragraph before you let her read it, ok.
The photos are of two of the many art nouveau buildings in the 'Passeig de Gràcia’ area.
First let’s say that Barcelona can not be done as a whirlwind tour. Go… take a week… there is so much to see and Barcelona is one of the most tourist friendly towns that it has ever been my privilege to visit. (Well except for the whole unfortunate highway incident, but we’ll get to that)
They speak two main languages in Barcelona (and mercifully one of them wasn’t French). Catalan, which is very like Spanish in the way that the language the British speak is like English, only worse. Let’s say that, if put to it, I could understand enough to get the gist of a conversation, but that I would have to respond in Spanish. The other language is of course Spanish. Well, Castilian Spanish which is a better example of the whole previously mentioned British analogy. (Confused yet?) The only thing about the Spanish is the whole lisping thing. Everything that has an ‘s’ in it is pronounced with a sort of lisping ‘th’ sound, the effect being that it sounds like your trying to talk with marbles under your tongue and I think it makes all the men sound completely gay. (Sorry, complete stereotype, I know).
In all seriousness though never discount the psychological benefits of traveling in a country whose language you speak. I almost hated to come back to France because for the first time in weeks (months) people understood me and I understood them. You folks have no idea how demoralizing and frustrating it can be to not be able to ask for so much as bread without it turning into ‘a thing’.
The city of Barcelona itself is situated in a very hilly coastal part of Spain. The area is basically foothills of the Pyrenees next to the Mediterranean. It’s huge but, more importantly, it is blessed with a variety of architecture that I’ve never before seen. The Gothic cathedrals are breathtaking, but even more so are some of their more famous modernist buildings. There are also many buildings that seem to have a very Middle Eastern, Moroccan flair to them.
In my humble opinion the ‘pièce du résistance’, the crowning piece of architecture is the temple of La Sagrada Familia. If you follow that link it will take you to a brief history of the structure, go there, it’ll save me having to repeat the 5 paragraphs here. Let me say that the concept originated in 1866 and has been under almost constant construction since 1881. The work is now under the direction of its third architect. The temple has a different façade from almost every angle (each façade representing a different part of Christ’s life) and after over a hundred years it is still little more than a shell held up by scaffolding and permanent residence to 4 or 5 large cranes. It would take so much room on this site to post all the necessary photos (do not want to anger the generous Blogger crew) so go HERE instead, they’re not our photos but they’re a good substitute. The temple is being built with private funds and donations (so give early and give often).
On the first day we followed the signs to the center of the city. This was easier than you would imagine in a city the size of Barcelona. The cool thing is that the city has a series of tunnels that actually go under hills and vast parts of the city itself. You can avoid huge sections of city which means avoiding tons of traffic lights and traffic. Of course you have to pay to use the tunnels but, trust me, definitely worth the 2.44€.
Several miles and tunnels toward the center of town we found ourselves at MNAC (Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya), which is like the central jewel in the crown which is central Barcelona. In front of MNAC are the ‘Magic Fountains’ which lead to ‘Plaça Espanya’ and the fountain of ‘Los Tres Mares’. The whole area reminded me strongly of the Balboa park museum campus in San Diego. MNAC is flanked by other museums and a replica of a Spanish medieval city that was built in 1929. Behind MNAC are the Olympic Stadium, the swimming venue and the main Olympic square. Also there, is giant sculpture that looks like a needle with a ring around it but which our tour guide said was meant to represent an athlete. The thing is so huge and distinctive that it can be seen from miles around. If you stand at the Olympic stadium (built for the 1992 Olympics) You can see beautiful panoramic views of the city in every direction.
The one odd thing about the MNAC area was the cats. Cats, yes cats, they were everywhere and we’re not talking feral or stray cats. These cats belonged there. They all wore collars and looked well fed. I can only speculate as to why they were there, but there was no doubt that they lived and were cared for in that area.
While on our initial walk around central Barcelona we discovered a tour bus company that, for a small fee, offered transportation to all the major sites. This seemed to be a perfect way to see the city, so the next day that’s what we did.
This is where our first day ended and the first highway nightmare took place. Let’s say here that I can laugh about it now. For a blow by blow visit S’s site.
The next day we purchased tickets for our bus tour, at 15€ per person it was a steal. The tour consisted of a northern route (the blue route) and a southern route (the red route) There were many stops along the way at tons of sites including cathedrals, parks, buildings of architectural note, palaces and the harbor. A one day pass allowed you to get on and off at any stop you wanted as many times as you wanted. Time being the key word here as there is no way that you could get off and see all the stops in one day.
Also key is that you had to be waiting at the company’s stop when the bus arrived. (This particular tour companies stops had big eyes on them. You can see the eye at the bottom right of the Starbuck’s picture I posted). The tour company would not stop for you if you tried to wave them down when you missed them by mere seconds. (Not that this could have possibly happened to us!) You either waited for the next bus, which would be along in 13 to 25 minutes or ran/walked to the next stop so you could at least sightsee a bit while waiting for the next bus to come along. The tour guides provided commentary in Spanish, Catalan and English. Depending on the guide you could also hear it in French and German.
The other consideration was the weather, or more precisely, the temperature. The first day on our own it must have been 60°, we ended up having to shed coats and I began to regret the turtleneck I was wearing. But the actual day of our tour I don’t think it got above 40° which is pretty damned chilly sitting in the wind of the upper deck of a moving bus. But that was the best place to take photos. The other down side of it being winter was that many of the sites were being repaired, winter not being prime tourist season, the sites would be swaddled in netting (to protect pedestrians from falling debris) and/or hidden behind scaffolding. S dragged me well off the beaten path to photograph the front of a beautiful gothic cathedral, only to arrive and find it covered in green netting with only the two tallest spires peaking out of the top.
Our first stop on the bus tour was the ‘Poble Espanyol de Montjuïc’, Built in 1929 for the International Exhibition of the same year it is one of the city’s main leisure venues. It was built to resemble an authentic Spanish town. It has many bars and restaurants as well as several art museums, but its main feature is the artisan shops. These shops featured the work of wood, glass, leather, wool and clay artisans. Many of the artisans offered workshops during the day too. Ok, can we say shopping!
We wandered around the little pseudo town and bought some stuff here and there. We visited one of the museums which featured some pottery by Picasso and the work of modern artists who worked in the Picasso style. Odd place.
We wanted to come back for dinner but didn’t want to wait an hour for the restaurants to open so we could make a reservation. So on with the tour.
We hopped a bus that took us past the Olympic park to an aerial tramway, that wasn’t running. We got off there because the bus was too crowded and I couldn’t handle it. Then we walked passed the next stop which was, well, basically a cactus garden. As if we haven’t seen yuccas and ocotillos before. So we walked on down the hill for about a mile to find the next stop at the harbor. The next stop was in a giant circle where the ‘Mirador de Colom’ stands atop an extremely high column pointing of into the distance. (Go west young man?) We caught the next bus there and got seats on the upper deck so we could take unobstructed pictures. On to tour the ports, ‘Port Vell’ and then further east to ‘Port Olimpic’. ‘Port Vell’ featured restaurants, an Imax theatre, an aquarium and lots of boats. ‘Port Olimpic’ featured the two tallest buildings in Barcelona and the Olympic village where the athletes lived; these buildings have been converted to apartments. The whole village is quite beautiful and is saturated with sculptures and free form art work of every description.
Then whirlwind drive-bys of the ‘Parc de la Ciutadella’ which features the Barcelona Zoo, the ‘Museu d’Art Modern and the ‘Parlament de Catalunya’. This in itself would be a full day. It features about 6 other museums too.
Then ‘Pla de Palua’ (Plaça del Palacio – Plaza of the Palace) Yeah, weird some stuff was titled in Catalan and some in Spanish. By now it’s getting onto 3:00 pm and breakfast was long ago. We got off at ‘Barri Gothic’ which is Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter. This is where Barcelona’s two thousand years of history originates. You can still see parts of the city walls and Roman city. Here again another full day’s adventure. This is the part where S drags me down side streets to get a good shot of the Cathedral only to find it swathed in green netting. Boy was he bummed. Then back to the stop where we got off to find Pizza Hut for a quick lunch. We ate at Pizza Hut because our tour package included discounts to museums and such and a discount at Pizza Hut. There is a Pizza Hut near every major venue in this city. We ate and asked for ‘ la cuenta’. By the time the stinkin’ teenagers brought back our change though our next bus was passing by the window, we missed it. Though two other tourists who were a bit closer tried to flag them down too and they wouldn’t stop. Great, hang here for another ± 20 minutes or walk the mile to next stop. So walk it was. We walked to ‘Plaça de Catalunya’ this is the main square where the city’s main thoroughfares radiate from. Also another whole days adventure with the opera house, the ‘Teatre del Liceu’, and the ‘Palau de la Música’ which is a stunning jewel of the modernist era and an absolute must see sight.
Then to ‘Passeig de Gràcia’ the 19th century neighborhood that features an abundance of modernist style buildings. The modernist buildings are referred to as Catalan art nouveau and are sites not to be missed. (see what I mean, everything is a site not to be missed, you need a solid week here.)
This is where time became an issue, it’s almost 4:00 it’ll be completely dark by 5:30/6:00 and we’ve just begun the red route of the tour. We can’t get off anymore or we’ll never see everything and it’s starting to get f*&#$ing cold on that upper deck of the bus.
My main thing was that I had to see ‘La Sagrada Familia’. From a distance the structure is evident only by the preponderance of construction cranes. But as you actually come up to it you can see the shell of the structure with miles of scaffolding inside. We took some photos but didn’t get off the bus. This is where I had my Starbuck’s sighting as the bus was pulling away from the stop. I tried not to cry and snapped a picture.
Next Park Güell named after Gaudi’s (Gaudi the primary architect and visionary of Sagrada Familia and other structures in the city) great patron, Count Eusebi Güell. The park was initially meant to be a neighborhood but only Gaudi’s actual residence was ever completed and now houses a museum of Gaudi’s work.
Then a monastery, then the Royal Palace, then the Barcelona Futbol stadium, then…then it really started to get cold and we got off to switch busses and head back to our parked car.
Then on to the second highway nightmare. (See S’s blog)
Dinner and drinks at the hotel and then fall into bed in complete exhaustion. The next day we had breakfast and headed home. I want to go back to Barcelona though. With more time available next time. Though during the highway nightmares S swore he would never return. Hopefully in hindsight it won’t seem so bad. I loved Barcelona and want to move there now. S however refuses to commute internationally, party pooper.
We tried to squeeze our visit into a weekend so S could be back to work on Monday. Where a good portion of the French took the whole two weeks off, S did not, he even worked on Christmas Eve. And they say that Americans are workaholics…hmm go figure. He will however be taking off the day of my birthday and New Years day.
Well, that’s it in a nutshell then (well the shell of a really BIG nut anyway…ok, never mind, just too many place to go with that). (Perhaps the 4th cup of coffee was a mistake.) Off to shower and dress…yes I have been speaking to you in my jammies, unwashed and with foul breath. Hey you have to write when the Blogging juices are flowing. If you stop to clean up first, the juices go elsewhere and then it’s 4 or 5 days before they come back, and by that time you’ve forgotten the details. Alright off I go, and hey don’t tell mom about this, she’d be so embarrassed, she raised me better (I should have at least brushed my teeth). Oh, dad, white out this paragraph before you let her read it, ok.
The photos are of two of the many art nouveau buildings in the 'Passeig de Gràcia’ area.
Sunday, December 28, 2003
Starbuck's Sighting
Just returned from Barcelona and S has decided that the lawn needs to be mowed. Now?! Right now in the fading light and 40° temperature. I’m sitting in warmth and sorting through some terrific digital pictures (some of which I’ll share with you over the next week or so), fixing a leftover turkey sandwich, unpacking and reading e-mail. For now just news that we made it, we had a great time and this photo.
I had a Starbucks sighting in Barcelona, was on tour bus at the time and couldn’t stop did think of leaping off the thing but was sitting in upper deck. So all I have is this photo.
More later.
I had a Starbucks sighting in Barcelona, was on tour bus at the time and couldn’t stop did think of leaping off the thing but was sitting in upper deck. So all I have is this photo.
More later.
Monday, December 22, 2003
The Week In Review
A recent British survey conducted by researchers at the University of London has found that single women have fewer mental and emotional issues and dysfunctions than married women. Hmmm…shocking! And that women with husbands AND children are basically, well, doomed basket cases. Hmmm…let me call my sisters and warn them.
Ok, then on that note we’re off for the week in review.
We had an appointment on Wednesday, December 17th with a company called ImpaQt. They are the company that MCo. Has hired (or may hire) to help us with our language acquisition. (As if it was a matter of purchase.) Our initial meeting was supposed to be for purposes of evaluating our current skills. That shouldn’t take too long.
The first person we met at ImpaQt was Maggie, a very Irish young woman with a strong accent overshadowed only by her strong personality. She was bubbly and effusive and loud and far too chipper for that time of the morning. I liked her on site. She greeted us enthusiastically and offered tea. S took her up on the offer and then we got to work. We were given oral and written tests consisting of paragraphs in French followed by questions in French that we were to answer in English. Each of the 5 paragraphs got progressively more difficult and S and I amused ourselves near the end by making up answers to what we thought the questions were. We were laughing loudly but with Maggie greeting people in the hallway nobody heard us.
When we were done with our tests we were introduced to Chris, a brit, who next to Maggie seemed straight laced and proper to the extreme in his navy blazer and slacks. He shared with us some personal anecdotes of his move to France and his linguistic journey. He then collected our tests which were neither looked at nor discussed; too bad really, they were quite funny. He proceeded, instead, to go over what we felt our basic language needs might be. Basically what do we want or need to learn. He outlined some goals told us that a proposal for education would be submitted to MCo. (with a cost estimate I’m sure) and that assuming approval of the proposal we would start in January. Damn, I thought this was about language lessons not a god damned corporate merger. We’ll be heading home in less than two years, could we move this along already?
…
On Thursday morning, we had to go into the city for medical check-ups so that the ‘préfecture’ can issue S’s work and our residency permits. The exam basically consisted of peeing in a cup, a ludicrous eye exam, chest x-rays and an interview with a physician. S was called in first and then me.
The peeing in a cup part was pretty easy, no great skill involved there. The eye exam was a bit tricky though. See, I don’t actually know my alphabet in French very well. I used to know it and I think it’s similar to Spanish but I don’t remember; in any case I was not quite prepared for this test. I was asked to read the smallest line of the eye chart and I can only assume that the nurse thought I was either blind as a bat or stupid beyond comprehension.
The whole mental process slowed things down considerably. To begin with I first had to see the letter that was pointed to and identify it (not as easy as it sounds because I couldn’t tell what some of the letters were, was that a D or an O, that an I or a J, an M or an N.) then take the English word, translate it to Spanish and then see if I could remember the French. So some of my answers were wrong, some were in English, some were in Spanish and maybe some were in French. So yeah basically I think I got them all wrong. I figured the nurse would ask if I wore eye glasses or if I needed to put my glasses on or something along those lines, but since she didn’t speak English, nor I French, I’m sure she decided it wasn’t worth the trouble and just signed off on the exam.
Well then, on to be weighed, can’t fail that can I? After the kilos were recorded, I undressed and hugged a very cold machine to take the chest x-ray. Not as painful as a mammogram but almost as humiliating, really though another no brainer.
Finally, the interview with the doctor, this could be tricky; he would also assume stupidity when I gaped at him uncomprehendingly after each question asked.
I sat in a hallway reading posters about AIDS prevention; urging the use of ‘préservatifs’ (condoms not preservatives). I waited with my new chest x-ray in hand until finally a doctor invited me into his office. He began speaking to me in rapid French. I laughed a little and requested in my best French, “parlez vous lentement sil’ vous plait”.
“Oh, in English then?” he asked laughing a little too, as he took my x-ray and clipped it up on his light box thingy. He glanced at the x-ray seriously and said, “Hmm, we have a problem here”.
“We do?!” I said, staring at the x-ray to see if I could spot the problem. (Hmm, I thought that was my liver but maybe it’s not.)
“No” he says laughing again. Great, the man is a comedian. He proceeds to ask me all the usual questions. Family history, surgeries, pregnancies, current medication blah, blah, blah, etc.etc.etc. He signs my form and sends me on my way.
On the way out I asked S if his doctor spoke English too. He said no. How the hell did that interview go I had to wonder?
…
On Saturday we went back to Andorra for some duty free Christmas shopping. We specifically went looking for my Christmas gift. I had already completed my Christmas shopping. S was getting me knives for Christmas per my request. (I hate trying to cut up raw chicken with a dull knife. Aside from not working well, it gives me the willies.) And since my birthday is coming up (again?) soon we needed to purchase me a birthday present. (Yes I’ll be 40 this year…just practicing the line I’ll be using for the next 5 or 10 years) This time we wanted to go all the way to the center of the country to Andorra La Vella.
As we drove toward the Pyrenees we could see that the mountains were completely covered with snow. It was going to be cold. As we got closer to the mountains we began to see signs that said ‘Access Andorre équipement obligatoire’ which I took to mean we would need chains on the little Peugeot if we were going to go into the mountains. S, however, insisted obtusely that if the sign meant we needed chains it would say we needed ‘chaines’. So on we drove. The further we got the more signs we saw. On the encouraging side was that all other road traffic was of the same type of vehicle and no one seemed to be turning back. (Just a bunch of optimistic fools) The sun was shining brightly and everything was beginning to stream and steam. We went thru two tunnels under the mountains to avoid the climbing, winding switchbacks that would inevitably be involved in going up and over the mountains. Perhaps without the tunnels we might have needed chains, but it began to appear as if the ‘équipement’ signs were a bit alarmist. Everything was wet and steaming but not at all slippery.
Most of our fellow travelers, on the way up the mountains, were laden with ski gear. It was the beginning of the two week Christmas break for most French folk and the slopes were already covered with skiers and all the lifts were moving. Every likely ski spot has valleys of hotels and lift towers all the way up to the top. Happy people in parkas and carrying ski gear were everywhere and it seemed to lend a festive air to the town of Pas de la Casa.
Once we got through the tunnel on the way to Andorra La Vella, however, the snow slowly began to disappear. Andorra La Vella is a large and busy town filled with all the same duty free type shops we had seen in Pas de la Casa only in greater numbers.
The first shop we saw and went into after parking in a very crowded lot, was a cashmere shop. Going in there reminded me of that scene in ‘Pretty Woman’ where Julia Roberts’s character goes into the shop on Rodeo Drive and the women in there look at her like she’s scum and won’t wait on her. Yeah, it was something like that. There were three older women in this shop and when we walked in, in our jeans and gortex jackets, they looked at us like we must be misplaced. I ignored them walked over to the rack of coats and began trying on what ever caught my eye. Eventually one of the sales ladies came over and asked, in a language that isn’t French or Spanish but maybe a mixture of both, what size I needed. Sizes are different here so I told her, in Spanish, I was looking for something that was medium in America. Once we narrowed down the language we would speak, we began narrowing down the size and the woman seemed to warm to the task. After trying several I settled on a coat. I told the woman we would buy it and she just lit up. ‘Perfecto, la señora se ve muy elegante’! Right, now that we’re buying the coat. S bought me the beautiful long black wool/cashmere coat. Did I mention it was just what I wanted? Did I mention it’s beautiful and that I love it? Well I had so been wanting a nice wool dress coat and my new coat is absolutely delicious.
From there we started the hunt for the knives. I had researched on-line and knew exactly what I wanted. I didn’t honestly think we’d find them there. We wandered into several stores but a vast majority of the shops sell jewelry, ski/sports gear, perfumes and electronics. During our hunt we walked into a building that had many shops and then found that it was more of a mall on the order of Watertower Place in Chicago. Lots of little high priced designer boutiques on several floors built around a central area. No knives but I saw a pair of brown leather boots that were buttery soft and so beautiful I just had to have them until I saw the 400 € price tag; for that price I could be half way to a pair of Jimmy Choo’s.
We did finally find a department store that had the exact knives I wanted. We made our purchases and were pretty much done for the day, mission accomplished. And since we don’t ski, we were pretty much tapped out for things to do, besides that, I was concerned about getting off the mountain before dark to avoid ice on the now wet and steaming roads.
On the way home we decided that our day hadn’t been long enough yet and we needed to see a movie. The theatres play many American movies and usually they are shown in VO (version originel) and VF (version français). We hit the multiplex near our house to see if Lord of the Rings – Return of the King (Le Seigneur des Anneaux – Le Retour du Roi) had opened on the same day here as there and it had. The multiplex near us however was only playing VF. The ticket boy told us that their sister theater at Place Wilson in the city was playing the VO. So we ran home grabbed a quick dinner and headed into the heart of the city.
We parked under the ‘Place du Capitole’ where a huge holiday bazaar of local artisans was in progress. The capital building had spotlights on the bell tower and flags, and was flanked on three sides with holiday lit buildings. The Crowne Plaza, Le Hotel de l’Opera, and department stores all lit for the holidays with the bazaar in the center of the square like a brightly lit jewel. Hundreds of people were wandering around and doing their holiday shopping or sitting in the cafes. We glanced briefly at the booths on the edge of the bazaar and decided we’d have to come back. It was wonderfully busy, noisy and festive. We walked around to the front of the capital where there was a brightly lit garden of heavily flocked Christmas trees.
We finally got to the theatre where we found that the VO Lord of the Rings started at 8:30 and it was a 3 ½ hour long movie. Hopefully the bazaar would be open on Sunday. Though nothing is ever open on Sunday, it was the last Sunday before Christmas so we hoped that an exception would be made.
We bought our tickets and noticed that the VO of Love Actually was also playing. Our Sunday afternoon was taking shape.
There was a cool feature at the ticket counter. There was a large electronic billboard that flashed the movie title, time remaining on current showing, start time of next showing and number of seats still available for the next showing. It was pretty cool. We could see that the theatre we were going to had over 200 seats and that there were only 32 left at 7:00 when we bought our tickets.
We located our theatre and then wandered around the complex a bit. The concession ‘stand’ was self serve, like a buffet, grab what you want and pay on the way out. Popcorn was available but since we didn’t see the big popping machine we wondered how old it was. We didn’t actually see anyone purchasing or carrying any popcorn. Pop was available but in bottles or cans, no fountain pop.
We decided to find our seats with 45 minutes to go and it was a good thing. The show was completely sold out and the theatre was already ¾ full. I was curious to see if there were really that many English speaking people coming to see the movie in English (Though it would be subtitled in French). I hate watching subtitled movies because you spend so much time reading that you miss seeing a lot of it, I think. (No I don’t read that slow, it’s just distracting.) But I heard no English in the theatre. A manager came in and made people move to the middle of the rows so leftover seats could easily be found by late comers. Everyone that was asked to move grumbled of course, but moved.
When they first began showing commercials along with the previews in American theatres I was pissed. It’s bad enough we have to watch the darned things on TV, but we pay to see the movie not the ads. Well, it’s nothing compared to the number of ads we saw at this movie. I’m not kidding, 15 solid minutes of advertising, it didn’t seem like 15 minutes, it WAS 15 minutes, and there were two adds that ran twice during that time. Good god!
Finally the movie started and we became completely absorbed. I love going to really long movies that move along so well you don’t notice the passage of time. The movie was terrific and all the pre-release hype seems to, for once have been on target. Everyone applauded at the end.
We walked back to our car in the cold midnight air, among other movie goers and late diners. The streets seemed to still be full of people. It was a great evening. I made S go down and get the car by himself. Underground parking garages make me nervous. While I waited for him near the garage exit, I was asked twice by passing gentlemen if I needed a ride. I guess it was a little late for a woman to be standing around alone.
…
Sunday morning dawned, rainy and cold. We decided we’d go ahead and drive into town to see if by some chance the bazaar might be open and also to see if we could catch an early showing of ‘Love Actually’. We left the house at noon and the sun seemed to be making a valiant effort to break through the clouds. As we drove toward the center of town we noticed that almost everything was open. Grocery stores, boutiques and department stores, even the butcher shops seemed to be open. As we approached the Capitol the traffic slowed to a crawl, everyone was out for some last minute shopping. The atmosphere was wonderful. I love the busyness of it. I used to love downtown Chicago at this time of year for the same reason. Everyone just seems to be in a good mood and the air is full of excitement.
All signs pointing to the Capitol said that the parking lot was full so S said he’d drop me off and go a few blocks out to the Esquirol to park and meet me at the bazaar. As we were driving toward the entrance of the capital garage though, we saw a steady stream of cars going on down so S decided to give it a shot. He let me out and went to park. He ended up having to park down so far he was near the 5th circle of hell, but at least he didn’t have to drive somewhere else. He said he’d never had to park that far down and had no idea the structure went that far down. I hoped the garage really did go that far down and that we weren’t in some Twilight Zone episode.
The bazaar had everything. Hand made paper products, glassware, toys, ceramics, wood crafts, hand knitted winter wear, holiday decorations, silk scarves, food, food, food and more food. There were at least three Canadian stands featuring maple syrup, Canadian beer and sweaters. The smells of the place were sometimes wonderful, sometimes overpowering, and in a few spots not too good; the worst was a stall that was selling cheese that actually made my stomach turnover and threaten worse. S thought it smelled like three day old wet dog. Several of the food stands had these huge stock pots bubbling away with spiced wine. You know we had to try that. It was hot and not too bad, the one we tried was a little heavy on the anise and I hate the taste of black licorice, but overall it was ok. A few swallows and I was warm all the way to my toes.
We went to the theatre and bought tickets to a 4 O’clock show. We then wandered around Place Wilson. It’s a circle (as opposed to a square) with a central fountain. The road goes all the way around the fountain and there are about 6 spoke like streets leading out of it. Lots of specialty shops and cafes line the circle. We decided to eat at a little Italian place that had outdoor seating. We sat next to one of those giant outdoor heaters and were quite toasty. We had pizza and wine and dessert and coffee and we were feeling pretty happy.
We’d seen the movie before but it’s one of those that can be seen more than once. This time we were in one of the smaller theatres. The thing about subtitled movies is that they apparently lose much in translation. S and I would be the only ones laughing during parts of the movie. That in itself was rather humorous.
…
We’ve made reservations to be in Barcelona for a few days after Christmas. We decided to go ahead and spend our first French Christmas at home. We found turkeys at one of the hyper markets and bought the biggest one they had, it weighs in at a whopping 7 pounds. During our hunt for turkey I went right to the back of the market where the butcher shop is. I figured that that was where I would find the whole birds as opposed to the parts you find in the refrigerated cases. I began reading labels on everything resembling a winged animal. There were chickens, geese, duck, quail, Cornish hens and turkey. The shocker was that most of the birds were still sporting there fully feathered heads and feet! I found it difficult to ask for something that appeared to be watching me.
We were also able to finally find some sweet potatoes. So that and a green salad will be our meal. Well, I still have a present or two to wrap, hope you are all not expecting your Christmas cards to arrive in a timely fashion because they won’t. Sorry, you know me…
Merry Christmas to all and I’ll post a Barcelona update next week after we get back.
P.S. J will be here in less than 2 weeks!!! I can’t wait.
P.P.S. The photo is what I scanned from the Cinema program. Enjoy.
Ok, then on that note we’re off for the week in review.
We had an appointment on Wednesday, December 17th with a company called ImpaQt. They are the company that MCo. Has hired (or may hire) to help us with our language acquisition. (As if it was a matter of purchase.) Our initial meeting was supposed to be for purposes of evaluating our current skills. That shouldn’t take too long.
The first person we met at ImpaQt was Maggie, a very Irish young woman with a strong accent overshadowed only by her strong personality. She was bubbly and effusive and loud and far too chipper for that time of the morning. I liked her on site. She greeted us enthusiastically and offered tea. S took her up on the offer and then we got to work. We were given oral and written tests consisting of paragraphs in French followed by questions in French that we were to answer in English. Each of the 5 paragraphs got progressively more difficult and S and I amused ourselves near the end by making up answers to what we thought the questions were. We were laughing loudly but with Maggie greeting people in the hallway nobody heard us.
When we were done with our tests we were introduced to Chris, a brit, who next to Maggie seemed straight laced and proper to the extreme in his navy blazer and slacks. He shared with us some personal anecdotes of his move to France and his linguistic journey. He then collected our tests which were neither looked at nor discussed; too bad really, they were quite funny. He proceeded, instead, to go over what we felt our basic language needs might be. Basically what do we want or need to learn. He outlined some goals told us that a proposal for education would be submitted to MCo. (with a cost estimate I’m sure) and that assuming approval of the proposal we would start in January. Damn, I thought this was about language lessons not a god damned corporate merger. We’ll be heading home in less than two years, could we move this along already?
…
On Thursday morning, we had to go into the city for medical check-ups so that the ‘préfecture’ can issue S’s work and our residency permits. The exam basically consisted of peeing in a cup, a ludicrous eye exam, chest x-rays and an interview with a physician. S was called in first and then me.
The peeing in a cup part was pretty easy, no great skill involved there. The eye exam was a bit tricky though. See, I don’t actually know my alphabet in French very well. I used to know it and I think it’s similar to Spanish but I don’t remember; in any case I was not quite prepared for this test. I was asked to read the smallest line of the eye chart and I can only assume that the nurse thought I was either blind as a bat or stupid beyond comprehension.
The whole mental process slowed things down considerably. To begin with I first had to see the letter that was pointed to and identify it (not as easy as it sounds because I couldn’t tell what some of the letters were, was that a D or an O, that an I or a J, an M or an N.) then take the English word, translate it to Spanish and then see if I could remember the French. So some of my answers were wrong, some were in English, some were in Spanish and maybe some were in French. So yeah basically I think I got them all wrong. I figured the nurse would ask if I wore eye glasses or if I needed to put my glasses on or something along those lines, but since she didn’t speak English, nor I French, I’m sure she decided it wasn’t worth the trouble and just signed off on the exam.
Well then, on to be weighed, can’t fail that can I? After the kilos were recorded, I undressed and hugged a very cold machine to take the chest x-ray. Not as painful as a mammogram but almost as humiliating, really though another no brainer.
Finally, the interview with the doctor, this could be tricky; he would also assume stupidity when I gaped at him uncomprehendingly after each question asked.
I sat in a hallway reading posters about AIDS prevention; urging the use of ‘préservatifs’ (condoms not preservatives). I waited with my new chest x-ray in hand until finally a doctor invited me into his office. He began speaking to me in rapid French. I laughed a little and requested in my best French, “parlez vous lentement sil’ vous plait”.
“Oh, in English then?” he asked laughing a little too, as he took my x-ray and clipped it up on his light box thingy. He glanced at the x-ray seriously and said, “Hmm, we have a problem here”.
“We do?!” I said, staring at the x-ray to see if I could spot the problem. (Hmm, I thought that was my liver but maybe it’s not.)
“No” he says laughing again. Great, the man is a comedian. He proceeds to ask me all the usual questions. Family history, surgeries, pregnancies, current medication blah, blah, blah, etc.etc.etc. He signs my form and sends me on my way.
On the way out I asked S if his doctor spoke English too. He said no. How the hell did that interview go I had to wonder?
…
On Saturday we went back to Andorra for some duty free Christmas shopping. We specifically went looking for my Christmas gift. I had already completed my Christmas shopping. S was getting me knives for Christmas per my request. (I hate trying to cut up raw chicken with a dull knife. Aside from not working well, it gives me the willies.) And since my birthday is coming up (again?) soon we needed to purchase me a birthday present. (Yes I’ll be 40 this year…just practicing the line I’ll be using for the next 5 or 10 years) This time we wanted to go all the way to the center of the country to Andorra La Vella.
As we drove toward the Pyrenees we could see that the mountains were completely covered with snow. It was going to be cold. As we got closer to the mountains we began to see signs that said ‘Access Andorre équipement obligatoire’ which I took to mean we would need chains on the little Peugeot if we were going to go into the mountains. S, however, insisted obtusely that if the sign meant we needed chains it would say we needed ‘chaines’. So on we drove. The further we got the more signs we saw. On the encouraging side was that all other road traffic was of the same type of vehicle and no one seemed to be turning back. (Just a bunch of optimistic fools) The sun was shining brightly and everything was beginning to stream and steam. We went thru two tunnels under the mountains to avoid the climbing, winding switchbacks that would inevitably be involved in going up and over the mountains. Perhaps without the tunnels we might have needed chains, but it began to appear as if the ‘équipement’ signs were a bit alarmist. Everything was wet and steaming but not at all slippery.
Most of our fellow travelers, on the way up the mountains, were laden with ski gear. It was the beginning of the two week Christmas break for most French folk and the slopes were already covered with skiers and all the lifts were moving. Every likely ski spot has valleys of hotels and lift towers all the way up to the top. Happy people in parkas and carrying ski gear were everywhere and it seemed to lend a festive air to the town of Pas de la Casa.
Once we got through the tunnel on the way to Andorra La Vella, however, the snow slowly began to disappear. Andorra La Vella is a large and busy town filled with all the same duty free type shops we had seen in Pas de la Casa only in greater numbers.
The first shop we saw and went into after parking in a very crowded lot, was a cashmere shop. Going in there reminded me of that scene in ‘Pretty Woman’ where Julia Roberts’s character goes into the shop on Rodeo Drive and the women in there look at her like she’s scum and won’t wait on her. Yeah, it was something like that. There were three older women in this shop and when we walked in, in our jeans and gortex jackets, they looked at us like we must be misplaced. I ignored them walked over to the rack of coats and began trying on what ever caught my eye. Eventually one of the sales ladies came over and asked, in a language that isn’t French or Spanish but maybe a mixture of both, what size I needed. Sizes are different here so I told her, in Spanish, I was looking for something that was medium in America. Once we narrowed down the language we would speak, we began narrowing down the size and the woman seemed to warm to the task. After trying several I settled on a coat. I told the woman we would buy it and she just lit up. ‘Perfecto, la señora se ve muy elegante’! Right, now that we’re buying the coat. S bought me the beautiful long black wool/cashmere coat. Did I mention it was just what I wanted? Did I mention it’s beautiful and that I love it? Well I had so been wanting a nice wool dress coat and my new coat is absolutely delicious.
From there we started the hunt for the knives. I had researched on-line and knew exactly what I wanted. I didn’t honestly think we’d find them there. We wandered into several stores but a vast majority of the shops sell jewelry, ski/sports gear, perfumes and electronics. During our hunt we walked into a building that had many shops and then found that it was more of a mall on the order of Watertower Place in Chicago. Lots of little high priced designer boutiques on several floors built around a central area. No knives but I saw a pair of brown leather boots that were buttery soft and so beautiful I just had to have them until I saw the 400 € price tag; for that price I could be half way to a pair of Jimmy Choo’s.
We did finally find a department store that had the exact knives I wanted. We made our purchases and were pretty much done for the day, mission accomplished. And since we don’t ski, we were pretty much tapped out for things to do, besides that, I was concerned about getting off the mountain before dark to avoid ice on the now wet and steaming roads.
On the way home we decided that our day hadn’t been long enough yet and we needed to see a movie. The theatres play many American movies and usually they are shown in VO (version originel) and VF (version français). We hit the multiplex near our house to see if Lord of the Rings – Return of the King (Le Seigneur des Anneaux – Le Retour du Roi) had opened on the same day here as there and it had. The multiplex near us however was only playing VF. The ticket boy told us that their sister theater at Place Wilson in the city was playing the VO. So we ran home grabbed a quick dinner and headed into the heart of the city.
We parked under the ‘Place du Capitole’ where a huge holiday bazaar of local artisans was in progress. The capital building had spotlights on the bell tower and flags, and was flanked on three sides with holiday lit buildings. The Crowne Plaza, Le Hotel de l’Opera, and department stores all lit for the holidays with the bazaar in the center of the square like a brightly lit jewel. Hundreds of people were wandering around and doing their holiday shopping or sitting in the cafes. We glanced briefly at the booths on the edge of the bazaar and decided we’d have to come back. It was wonderfully busy, noisy and festive. We walked around to the front of the capital where there was a brightly lit garden of heavily flocked Christmas trees.
We finally got to the theatre where we found that the VO Lord of the Rings started at 8:30 and it was a 3 ½ hour long movie. Hopefully the bazaar would be open on Sunday. Though nothing is ever open on Sunday, it was the last Sunday before Christmas so we hoped that an exception would be made.
We bought our tickets and noticed that the VO of Love Actually was also playing. Our Sunday afternoon was taking shape.
There was a cool feature at the ticket counter. There was a large electronic billboard that flashed the movie title, time remaining on current showing, start time of next showing and number of seats still available for the next showing. It was pretty cool. We could see that the theatre we were going to had over 200 seats and that there were only 32 left at 7:00 when we bought our tickets.
We located our theatre and then wandered around the complex a bit. The concession ‘stand’ was self serve, like a buffet, grab what you want and pay on the way out. Popcorn was available but since we didn’t see the big popping machine we wondered how old it was. We didn’t actually see anyone purchasing or carrying any popcorn. Pop was available but in bottles or cans, no fountain pop.
We decided to find our seats with 45 minutes to go and it was a good thing. The show was completely sold out and the theatre was already ¾ full. I was curious to see if there were really that many English speaking people coming to see the movie in English (Though it would be subtitled in French). I hate watching subtitled movies because you spend so much time reading that you miss seeing a lot of it, I think. (No I don’t read that slow, it’s just distracting.) But I heard no English in the theatre. A manager came in and made people move to the middle of the rows so leftover seats could easily be found by late comers. Everyone that was asked to move grumbled of course, but moved.
When they first began showing commercials along with the previews in American theatres I was pissed. It’s bad enough we have to watch the darned things on TV, but we pay to see the movie not the ads. Well, it’s nothing compared to the number of ads we saw at this movie. I’m not kidding, 15 solid minutes of advertising, it didn’t seem like 15 minutes, it WAS 15 minutes, and there were two adds that ran twice during that time. Good god!
Finally the movie started and we became completely absorbed. I love going to really long movies that move along so well you don’t notice the passage of time. The movie was terrific and all the pre-release hype seems to, for once have been on target. Everyone applauded at the end.
We walked back to our car in the cold midnight air, among other movie goers and late diners. The streets seemed to still be full of people. It was a great evening. I made S go down and get the car by himself. Underground parking garages make me nervous. While I waited for him near the garage exit, I was asked twice by passing gentlemen if I needed a ride. I guess it was a little late for a woman to be standing around alone.
…
Sunday morning dawned, rainy and cold. We decided we’d go ahead and drive into town to see if by some chance the bazaar might be open and also to see if we could catch an early showing of ‘Love Actually’. We left the house at noon and the sun seemed to be making a valiant effort to break through the clouds. As we drove toward the center of town we noticed that almost everything was open. Grocery stores, boutiques and department stores, even the butcher shops seemed to be open. As we approached the Capitol the traffic slowed to a crawl, everyone was out for some last minute shopping. The atmosphere was wonderful. I love the busyness of it. I used to love downtown Chicago at this time of year for the same reason. Everyone just seems to be in a good mood and the air is full of excitement.
All signs pointing to the Capitol said that the parking lot was full so S said he’d drop me off and go a few blocks out to the Esquirol to park and meet me at the bazaar. As we were driving toward the entrance of the capital garage though, we saw a steady stream of cars going on down so S decided to give it a shot. He let me out and went to park. He ended up having to park down so far he was near the 5th circle of hell, but at least he didn’t have to drive somewhere else. He said he’d never had to park that far down and had no idea the structure went that far down. I hoped the garage really did go that far down and that we weren’t in some Twilight Zone episode.
The bazaar had everything. Hand made paper products, glassware, toys, ceramics, wood crafts, hand knitted winter wear, holiday decorations, silk scarves, food, food, food and more food. There were at least three Canadian stands featuring maple syrup, Canadian beer and sweaters. The smells of the place were sometimes wonderful, sometimes overpowering, and in a few spots not too good; the worst was a stall that was selling cheese that actually made my stomach turnover and threaten worse. S thought it smelled like three day old wet dog. Several of the food stands had these huge stock pots bubbling away with spiced wine. You know we had to try that. It was hot and not too bad, the one we tried was a little heavy on the anise and I hate the taste of black licorice, but overall it was ok. A few swallows and I was warm all the way to my toes.
We went to the theatre and bought tickets to a 4 O’clock show. We then wandered around Place Wilson. It’s a circle (as opposed to a square) with a central fountain. The road goes all the way around the fountain and there are about 6 spoke like streets leading out of it. Lots of specialty shops and cafes line the circle. We decided to eat at a little Italian place that had outdoor seating. We sat next to one of those giant outdoor heaters and were quite toasty. We had pizza and wine and dessert and coffee and we were feeling pretty happy.
We’d seen the movie before but it’s one of those that can be seen more than once. This time we were in one of the smaller theatres. The thing about subtitled movies is that they apparently lose much in translation. S and I would be the only ones laughing during parts of the movie. That in itself was rather humorous.
…
We’ve made reservations to be in Barcelona for a few days after Christmas. We decided to go ahead and spend our first French Christmas at home. We found turkeys at one of the hyper markets and bought the biggest one they had, it weighs in at a whopping 7 pounds. During our hunt for turkey I went right to the back of the market where the butcher shop is. I figured that that was where I would find the whole birds as opposed to the parts you find in the refrigerated cases. I began reading labels on everything resembling a winged animal. There were chickens, geese, duck, quail, Cornish hens and turkey. The shocker was that most of the birds were still sporting there fully feathered heads and feet! I found it difficult to ask for something that appeared to be watching me.
We were also able to finally find some sweet potatoes. So that and a green salad will be our meal. Well, I still have a present or two to wrap, hope you are all not expecting your Christmas cards to arrive in a timely fashion because they won’t. Sorry, you know me…
Merry Christmas to all and I’ll post a Barcelona update next week after we get back.
P.S. J will be here in less than 2 weeks!!! I can’t wait.
P.P.S. The photo is what I scanned from the Cinema program. Enjoy.
Updates Soon But Meanwhile
I have loads to tell. The language lesson inventory, medicals for residency and the weekend in town including movies we saw, but I'm not too organized here. But for now, here is a bizarre weather phenomena. Remember it doesn't snow in southern France!
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
The Grand Unveiling
And just for fun, and to show it's all true, a photo of our 'Charlie Brown' tree. Merry Christmas all.
Market Day
I was up early this morning and saw S off to work at 6:30. Don’t honestly know what the point is to being up that early, the sun isn’t truly up until 7:45ish. But I decided to get dressed and bundled up and head out the door into the pre-dawn darkness for some fresh warm bread for my breakfast. It was down to 29° overnight and according to Yahoo Weather it was only 32° when I headed out the door. It didn’t seem too cold when I started out so I decided to go ahead and loop past the post office first. As I neared the post office, however, my ears and nose were starting to get quite numb. I hurriedly dropped my letter into the slot and headed toward the main drag to the bakery for my breakfast and some much needed warmth.
The side street that the post office is on was choked with trailers. I forgot that Tuesday mornings there is an open air market on this street. There were several refrigerated trailers quite visible because of the lights blaring from inside. Two large trailers are butcher shops, one trailer houses the fish monger, another houses the sausage guy and one extremely large gleaming white trailer sells cheese. The cheese trailer has cheese of every conceivable variety and description. I stay as far away as possible from the fish and cheese trailers because the smell is overpowering and I don’t think I can face it on an empty stomach.
Most of the rest of the stalls are open air stalls mostly large tables where wears are displayed. There were 4 or 5 produce stands showcasing carrots, leeks, oranges, tangerines, potatoes, lettuce, cabbage and a wide variety of fresh colorful apples. The produce is arranged nested in colorful boxes filled with shredded paper. It makes you hungry just looking at the variety of fruit and the smell of the tangerines brings back memories of the tree in Mama Reyes’ back yard. Remember how we used to pick the tree bare of fruit as far up as our short arms would reach?
There were a surprising number of people already milling around the stalls, even at this hour and temperature. All of them carrying baskets or dragging rolling carts. It was a sight that made me feel happy just to be there. It was cold and bustling and very charming in a way.
As I wove my way down the street between stalls stopping briefly here and there to look I found one stall that was selling shoes or more precisely, clogs. Clogs in many colors and for every member of the family. One vendor was selling down vests and I thought I should get one, as they reminded me of how cold I was. As I moved on I noticed two stalls that reminded me of Charlotte, they had bolts and bolts of beautiful fabrics and best of all they had buttons. Buttons! A table loaded with buttons, buttons in boxes, buttons in buckets. It would take a full day to sift through all of those buttons. I kept thinking how much she would love all those buttons and wondered how much closet space she has left for fabric. She would need an annex to her room for all of this tempting fabric. (I wondered too if she would make me some pillows if I sent her some of it.) I wished I could linger longer but my ears had reached that state of frozenness that makes them start to hurt and burn.
As I headed out of the street I could see my goal ahead with lights shining and promising warmth. As I walked I noticed that there were many more people out this morning, bundled up beyond all recognition and heading toward the market with baskets in hand. The bakery too was packed with people holding baskets, some already full of shopping. The wait at the bakery was long but I didn’t mind. It’s a darned good thing you can’t gain weight from inhaling bread aroma. (You can’t can you?) I bought four fresh, warm buttery croissants and couldn’t wait until I got home to eat one, besides if I waited, they'd be cold when I got home in this weather. I tucked the bag with the remaining croissants inside my jacket so we could keep each other warm.
The side street that the post office is on was choked with trailers. I forgot that Tuesday mornings there is an open air market on this street. There were several refrigerated trailers quite visible because of the lights blaring from inside. Two large trailers are butcher shops, one trailer houses the fish monger, another houses the sausage guy and one extremely large gleaming white trailer sells cheese. The cheese trailer has cheese of every conceivable variety and description. I stay as far away as possible from the fish and cheese trailers because the smell is overpowering and I don’t think I can face it on an empty stomach.
Most of the rest of the stalls are open air stalls mostly large tables where wears are displayed. There were 4 or 5 produce stands showcasing carrots, leeks, oranges, tangerines, potatoes, lettuce, cabbage and a wide variety of fresh colorful apples. The produce is arranged nested in colorful boxes filled with shredded paper. It makes you hungry just looking at the variety of fruit and the smell of the tangerines brings back memories of the tree in Mama Reyes’ back yard. Remember how we used to pick the tree bare of fruit as far up as our short arms would reach?
There were a surprising number of people already milling around the stalls, even at this hour and temperature. All of them carrying baskets or dragging rolling carts. It was a sight that made me feel happy just to be there. It was cold and bustling and very charming in a way.
As I wove my way down the street between stalls stopping briefly here and there to look I found one stall that was selling shoes or more precisely, clogs. Clogs in many colors and for every member of the family. One vendor was selling down vests and I thought I should get one, as they reminded me of how cold I was. As I moved on I noticed two stalls that reminded me of Charlotte, they had bolts and bolts of beautiful fabrics and best of all they had buttons. Buttons! A table loaded with buttons, buttons in boxes, buttons in buckets. It would take a full day to sift through all of those buttons. I kept thinking how much she would love all those buttons and wondered how much closet space she has left for fabric. She would need an annex to her room for all of this tempting fabric. (I wondered too if she would make me some pillows if I sent her some of it.) I wished I could linger longer but my ears had reached that state of frozenness that makes them start to hurt and burn.
As I headed out of the street I could see my goal ahead with lights shining and promising warmth. As I walked I noticed that there were many more people out this morning, bundled up beyond all recognition and heading toward the market with baskets in hand. The bakery too was packed with people holding baskets, some already full of shopping. The wait at the bakery was long but I didn’t mind. It’s a darned good thing you can’t gain weight from inhaling bread aroma. (You can’t can you?) I bought four fresh, warm buttery croissants and couldn’t wait until I got home to eat one, besides if I waited, they'd be cold when I got home in this weather. I tucked the bag with the remaining croissants inside my jacket so we could keep each other warm.
Monday, December 15, 2003
"I gotta go get eggs!"
Picked S up at the airport this morning. I missed him! Well, just a little, I guess. He came bearing gifts, not all for me. On our way home he said he was going to shower and go to work. I had a brief panicked moment when I realized that that meant he was taking the car. I can't give up the car! Are my two weeks of vehicular freedom over? Where did they go? I'm not ready! Before panic could completely set in I feigned a grocery shortage and went for a FINAL drive to the mall and grocery store while he showered. I'll be better soon.
Later...
When I returned from my panicked flight to the mall, somewhat restored and calm, the big green I-hope-my-toilet-troubles-are-over truck was arriving. The nice man took a big hose out to the pipe in my back yard and flushed large quantities of water at high pressure through the pipe. Very effective! So happy to have fully functioning toilets again. It's the little things.
Later...
When I returned from my panicked flight to the mall, somewhat restored and calm, the big green I-hope-my-toilet-troubles-are-over truck was arriving. The nice man took a big hose out to the pipe in my back yard and flushed large quantities of water at high pressure through the pipe. Very effective! So happy to have fully functioning toilets again. It's the little things.
Saturday, December 13, 2003
Sapine Noel
Christmas tree in stand outside of front door. I’ve shaken it and swept away the constantly falling needles. This lovely tree cost me 25€. This lovely tree is shorter than I am but makes up for it in stoutness. It is wider than it is tall but the 2 foot center peak stands 2 feet above the rest of the foliage, making this tree in effect a 3 foot tall tree. Well, let’s just say that ‘sapine noel’ in France are not what they are in the states and they cost 2 or 3 times as much.
As I am, in my predictably anal way, sweeping and vacuuming needles from the front hall and porch M Babec arrives to tell me that the ‘machine’ will be here at 1:30 on Monday to take care of the sewer problems. This is good news; I was beginning to picture us having to move to a hotel for a week or so. Had in fact just gotten off the phone with S where we were both discussing options and who we could call for translation help with this problem. It’s terribly frustrating to not speak the language and have a need to communicate more thoroughly than my online translator will allow.
I open the boxes of lights I bought for the tree find two odd things. First, the light strings do not plug into each other. But more strangely still, the light string is not so much a string as a circle. The lights are on a wire that starts and ends at the plug. How in the heck do I get these on the tree? If I fold the circle and treat it like a string then there are two bulbs together. This is going to take some thought. If anyone can offer some insight as to how these are supposed to go on the tree, let me know ASAP.
Off to buy an extension cord and power strip.
As I am, in my predictably anal way, sweeping and vacuuming needles from the front hall and porch M Babec arrives to tell me that the ‘machine’ will be here at 1:30 on Monday to take care of the sewer problems. This is good news; I was beginning to picture us having to move to a hotel for a week or so. Had in fact just gotten off the phone with S where we were both discussing options and who we could call for translation help with this problem. It’s terribly frustrating to not speak the language and have a need to communicate more thoroughly than my online translator will allow.
I open the boxes of lights I bought for the tree find two odd things. First, the light strings do not plug into each other. But more strangely still, the light string is not so much a string as a circle. The lights are on a wire that starts and ends at the plug. How in the heck do I get these on the tree? If I fold the circle and treat it like a string then there are two bulbs together. This is going to take some thought. If anyone can offer some insight as to how these are supposed to go on the tree, let me know ASAP.
Off to buy an extension cord and power strip.
Friday, December 12, 2003
Toilet Troubles Continue or Oh Shit!
Plumber was here. He arrived while I was out and had begun working in the back yard. As I pulled into the driveway I could hear the sound of a compressor at work. He was snaking the main sewer, from house to street, with the longest, stoutest snake I’ve ever seen. He had made himself a nice and disgusting pile in the back yard. After a while he stopped work and came to find me in the house. He took me to his pile to show me his finds. (As if I would find this as fascinating as he does) Then he tells me the bad news.
I can’t even begin to tell you what a mess he has described. Apparently the previous tenants or the tenants previous to them had put plastic bags (he showed them to me), paper towels, cigarette wrappers etc. down the drains. This along with regular use has blocked a pipe that is at least 6 inches in diameter. The problem is that even with his 60 foot snake he cannot reach the heart of the problem. It will take a different type of machine and they’ll have to come at it from the street end and work toward the house. He is going to contact M Babec and tell him the bad news. I’m not seeing this having a swift or inexpensive solution.
On that note, I’m going out to buy a Christmas tree.
I can’t even begin to tell you what a mess he has described. Apparently the previous tenants or the tenants previous to them had put plastic bags (he showed them to me), paper towels, cigarette wrappers etc. down the drains. This along with regular use has blocked a pipe that is at least 6 inches in diameter. The problem is that even with his 60 foot snake he cannot reach the heart of the problem. It will take a different type of machine and they’ll have to come at it from the street end and work toward the house. He is going to contact M Babec and tell him the bad news. I’m not seeing this having a swift or inexpensive solution.
On that note, I’m going out to buy a Christmas tree.
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