Rising to the French Attitude

One never feels so dejected as when one is totally ignored.  And the French ignore you better than anyone.  Today presented challenges and not so much of the confrontational kind, but of the non existent kind.  I will give you that proper French etiquette is not followed when you don't know for sure what it is.  But if you stand in a restaurant long enough you should hear, "Je suis désolé, nous avons réservé aujourd'hui" We are booked or come back later, "Je suis désolé, pouvez-vous revenir plus tard?"

And just about when you are ready to starve, you stumble on The Breakfast Club.  Friendly, warm and gracious.  The waitress/hostess is fabulous and I am sure she is part owner.  She switches from Brittish English to French in a second and is comfortable all the way around.  She is so welcoming.  She tells us she has reservations for three of her ten tables.  If we will eat within an hour, she will let us have a table.  We tell her, Americans eat and run all the time and we sit.  The breakfast is fabulous.

And as promised, we were out of her hair in less than an hour and off to tour the streets.

The cold can be a bit piercing when you have just left a warm meal and space.  So the winds told me to not ride bikes, which was our plan.

Skateboards and scooters are considered transportation; bicycles always have right of way.  Pedestrians can cross anytime on their dime, but en masse they can cross anytime.  The preferred way of travel is the less costly.  Better to have good boots and a good coat and ride on the public transport than to have stylish plastic boots and ride a scooter.  Quality is a life thing here. So we walked and stumbled on Notre Dame number two ( the original being in Paris, there are twelve in France).

 Then off to town center and back through the Christmas market. I am scouring the City windows for boots or shoes, surely I cannot leave France without a new pair.  So we are vigorously window shopping for boots when we pass an exclusive leather store for bags and purses.  Oh my.  We duck in and the lady is so friendly and spends 20 minutes telling us how she lived in London and New York, how she hated Miami loved the Keys and how Paris is only a place to visit and it is expensive and crowded.  She explained that Bordeaux is the new Paris.  We talked of the people and the issues that Morgan and I have faced.  She told us the French are secretly jealous of the Americans and their vast country and that is why they are aloof. She said she did not even fit in the the French place even thought she is a French person. She was a lot of fun and her products are fabulous.  I took a moment to be thankful that we met her.  She explained in twenty minutes the culture we had been in for five days.  Ahh to have her as a friend to escort us to restaurants.

We decided to tour the Wine Museum ( Musee du Vin) and Modern Art Museum (Musee Maritime Beaux Arts).  Both were interesting in their own way.  The modern art Musee was really a modern film exposition and it was rather interesting to go through in English.  The Musee du Vin was very interesting as they explain the history of the region, the wines, the labels, the merchants, the fighting.  Money and good wine always brings out the best.

I have never seen wine bottles the size of my body, but I have now.  I understand labels, chateaux and merchant and picture.  I understand blends and regions.  Wow, what a great tour and this is only the musee!

The wine tour tomorrow is the best part of the day.  Morgan and I will strike out early (that has been around 9 or 10) for food and walking before the wine tour.  we are going to Saint-Émilion.

It should be fun and a learning experience. 

Morgan currently has her phone connected to my computer for battery, so I will show you some photos from Saint Michel that I did not include in the last blog.  These cows are at a store in Mont Saint Michel

No One Can Rise to Saint Mont Michel

We left our tiny flat of 90 square feet and headed out to Rennes at 5:45 a.m. in the cold.  The bus that we were to catch was departing as we crossed the street and we watched it go.  Standing on the side of the road freezing for the next 16 minutes, I reminded myself that this is a vacation!  I can rest in Tallahassee.

Miraculously, we made it back to the Gare Nord in time for the train.  And then off to sleep while we rode to Rennes.

So Caen is the center of The War Memorials and Rennes is the center of industry.  I picked it because I thought it would be lovely to see the region.  I also thought that it would allow us to see more of the life styles.  Rennes is very different that Paris or Caen.  It is a working class environment and has the feel of Baltimore, right before a game of the Orioles.  The City is fast moving but has the feel of people that hang at the line of just making it.  The factories are large and the whole city seems to revolve around where they were built, not unlike the city center of other cities.  It is just different when the feel is newer, and by newer I mean 1950s forward.  For Europe, 1950s is a blip.  I can't tell you I was happy to be in Rennes.  I can tell you that from Rennes, you can take a bus to Mont Saint Michel which I can tell you - you have never seen the likes of before...

Aside from being an island off the shore of Normandy, it is truly unique.  Tide going out adds new meaning as it goes out for miles.  You would not know that it is an island on low tide or even near low tide.  it is surrounded by grey sand and grey water and in winter, grey skies.  Mont Saint Michele sits out in a bay of sorts  and stands alone as a majestic monument to things past.  It will humble you with its steps (over 300) and its steepness.  It will awe you with its chambers and staircases to seemingly nowhere.  The men who lived here were much smaller and the people who waited on them smaller still.

I cannot tell you how glad I am that I did not live here in it's peak.  I cannot imagine the loneliness and isolation that they felt and the cold and the lack of fresh water.  I can only dread the waiting on the King or the Bishop and the total servitude it took to allow their position.  Thanksgiving means never having to have been a serf.

On the up side, Morgan and i truly know what ramparts are.  We also know she likes to walk them and I do not.  So I stand below and take pictures and she goes to the high places and looks beautiful!

Back to our little flat in Rennes, where the only problem is the owner forgot to give us the code to the building.  We stand outside waiting for the post person to open the door, except guess what, she can't so we wait until another person comes down to check his mail.  I now the feeling of "we might be sleeping in the bus station tonight."  The apartment was very cute and considering we were there less than 12 hours, it would have been perfect, if not for the code issue.  Up again at 5:45 a.m. (is this a Morgan Higman thing or what?).  Off to Bordeaux.  If Rennes is the bastion of industry, Bordeaux is the haven of youth and professionalism.

Entering the city is like walking into Portland times two centuries.  There are certain people I can see as Parisians, but there are so many more that I can see as Bordeaux-ins.    The City is old and young, cobblestones and wi fi, cafes and Apple stores.  It has seven musees within walking or biking of Town Center.  There are two colleges on the map.  I am so excited!  Off tomorrow for tour on bikes then Sunday off to a tour of three vineyards.  Sunday night, back to Paris.  But let us not think of that.

For the few who asked what happens after my interview: I will be sent a preference of assignment.  I have several days to accept.  If I do , then all is well.  If I do not, then they write me with offer two or I write them with offer two.  Only three offers are permissible.  So, very structured interview with very structured responses.  We shall see what we shall see, eh?

By the way, we are staying in a "atypical apartment" which is not an apartment but a very old building turned into offices and living environments.  The walls are old stone.

You have to go out a very old four foot door to go to the bathroom and then you share it with the hosts.  the toilet is not in the same room as the sink.  The challenge for me is remembering where I am at three in the morning and not falling or getting lost.  Oh to have had money and opportunity when I was young!

Our hosts are very nice and properly distant.  He is in mergers and acquisitions ( I will talk to Beth later)  and she appears to stay home, though not clear on that.)  And it quite close to city center and all things important.  I am very Thankful that Morgan let met be part of her trip.  And that I had an interview.

Happy and giving Thanks from France!

Rising to the Occasion of the World Equestrian Games Interview

The morning begins with us traipsing past the Abbay aux Homme with full knowledge of where we are headed.  Or so we thought.  As usual with adult children and parents, there is the struggle to yield when appropriate.  So we are off to the bus stop that we cannot find, and continue to walk to the World Equestrian Games interview that starts at ten a.m.  We are up and out the door at eight a.m. mercifully with plenty of arrival time.  When we cannot find the stop, we walk.  uP Hills and DOwn hills.  We continue to a divide in the yellow wood so to speak.  Daughter says go right, Mother says go straight.  At the top of the hill now 2.9 miles from start, we are staring at an emergency room.  I can't say for sure that Morgan wanted to put me there, but I can tell you there were ample I told you so's for the error!

Just as we were bickering, the interviewer calls and says, " I see you are not here and shall we conduct the interview via tele?"  Heck no, I say and get directions.  And a short jaunt later ( and much complaining about pastries not had), we are there.  The lovely young British man greets us and takes me in for the interview.  Proper interview, I might add.  Lots of questions on horse knowledge, but interestingly enough, about work or as he says, profession.  After several questions about spreadsheets, excel and word, I get the impression that he is looking for something.  Finally, he confesses: yes he will put me where I want to be, but position not guaranteed.  But in exchange, I must agree to be the English speaking welcomer for judges and jockeys on any day requested.  i  committed for six days in August.  My boss approved last year, and I have told all my colleagues, so I should be good to go.  "Your English skills are needed for the judges as the second most common language will be English and the others may not have such a command."  There are many nuns and lay persons I need to thank for those English skills!

The gentleman who was also an interviewer/screener for the 2012 Olympics, showed us the way to the bus.  He also recruited Morgan for a position.  She is interested in para Olympics and Vaulting.  We soon will purchase the billets (tickets) for the games and be on our way.

Many hours later and two restaurants later, Morgan has sort of forgiven me for the wrong direction and for not getting her food in a timely manner.

 We are off to tour the Chateau and the fort and he musee of modern art which turns out to be 1545 year, modern to whom?

Then I must tell you, we spent an exciting night in the laundry machine magazine... washing clothes which we hung to dry in our tiny little flat of 90 sq feet.  Morgan made us a salad and cheese and potatoes and it may not sound like a three star but it sure tasted like it. Did I mention her chien?  

 au revoir!

Rising to the Occasion of the Tired Feet and Happy Heart

Monday we started out without the scam and without the feeling of time pressure to get somewhere.  My daughter slept late and I had to get on her to get up and get going!

Out the door our first stop was the Christophe Restaurant at 8 Rue DesCartes.  Lovely little place.  After we ascertained that the meals of the day were lamb brains and pig kidney, we moved on.  The area was beautiful and as we walked we realized we were near the University of Paris and the Pantheon.

Descarte and Voltaire are here as is Louis Braille, whom I did not realize was a Frenchman!

We toured the circle and then settled in at a cafe whose name, sadly we did not catch.

After twenty minutes of French translation, we ordered onion soup and pork and Camembert and the house recommended wine for two.  Lovely lunch as we picked through kidneys and brains and jawls on the new menu, but then settled on pork chops that were square with potatoes and of course, soupe l"onion.  All was well and not hurried which is good because you will not get served any faster if you are in a hurry!

I must admit the mastery of preschool level French has been a minor asset for eavesdropping on maters such as, "right or left?" My french teacher would be proud that I can ask the question, "Where is the hotel" but cannot ask, "Did I pass it?"  Troubles.  French people on the street will not help you, but hotel people will.  Anyway back on task.

We managed to see the Pantheon then Notre Dame and then Montmarte which I have to say was very tiring on the knees. Morgan said 400 steps and I thought she was kidding.  Not so much.  But each level grew increasingly wonderful and by the time you are at the top, you have forgotten that your knees will not work.

We saw the entire city I think (not even close) and then went to  the local market for wine, cheese, apples and bread and headed home.  We were too tired to go on a big night.  We packed and readied for the morn, catching a metro to a metro to a train to Caen.

Caen is lovely as can be.  Much bigger than I imagined,  Huge in fact.  The Abbey de Hommes is at least four blocks and there is an Abbey d Dames on the other side of the town center.  It is very beautiful. The skies grow dark so early and keeping the camera out is not worthwhile.  It is a lovely walk-able spot as are all of the places that I have been to.  The transport for the public is fabulous, though sometimes not perfectly clean....

 The photo is the Hotel DeVille next to the Abbaye aux Hommes. The photo above is the garden of the Hotel.  The architecture is lovely and the area is well kept. Boulevard of my interview tomorrow.  We have located the Boulevard of my interview.  It is right across from the Caen WWII memorial so we shall see both.  Wish me well on the interview with the Equestrian games people!  One never knows how it will go or what or whom they will be seeking. 

People in France (generalization coming) are much to themselves unless you are buying something, know them enough and their language enough to have a meaningful chat, or are in love with someone.  I try my French anyway, to the extent that I can.  No matter.  Morgan has a great way of communicating.  she pretends that she is German and cannot speak English.  She keeps saying bitte and pointing with her whole hand, like someone talking louder to someone who doesn't understand.  Except, in her case it works.  She looks the part and sometimes, I think she believes it.  I know I do.

Other Paris tidbits, perhaps Europe tidbits.  Everyone smokes.  The winter plastic tents are up around the cafes and they are filled with smoke.  I think that is why Parisians are thin,  Who wouldn't be then if your main diet was expresso and cigarettes? Churches abound.  everywhere and on almost every major square.  They are lovely old and remind me of all the catholic pictures in the churches I have attended.  

So, off to discover what we can of Caen tomorrow by foot, bike, bus or donkey.  I'll let you know how my interview goes,  Viva le Cheval!

Rising to the Occasion of the Best Scam Ever

The day was filled with cold and excitement and the awareness of being in a new place so far from home.  Morgan and I headed out early (can I tell you how good it is to see my baby) for the Eiffel Tower and all that follows.  I am a huge proponent of cities by foot.

So after the lovely tour of the ships parked by the river, the quays and quais, we went up and saw the merry go round and the Eiffel Tower.  We proceeded down the line for the  Chaveliers Musee at the park end.   Walking out of the Eiffel Tower Park and just before the road, a man scoops up something from the dirt and runs in front of us.   He picks up a ring and presents it on his very fat fingers.  He cannot wear the ring he mimes, so it can be yours....  once he hands off the ring to you, he follows you.  And says , "May Madam, Madam, "j'ai seulement besoin assez d'argent pour manger."  enough money to eat...  and then I turn to Morgan and say give back the ring.  She does but he puts in on and says it will not fit.  And then he says again money to eat.  She gives him the two euros in her pocket.  then he chases us and asks for the money in my pocket.  I am on and so is Morgan and we say he can have the ring back and he turns away.

.We walk and "s'il vous plaît  madam again."  and then Morgan realizes that there is a scam and says to me keep walking.  Morgan realized and did not want to discuss the scam. She was all business until we were safely away from the man who could be any country or person.

I am proud of my daughter and proud of the man for trying. and if anyone needs a nice ring please email Morgan....