Category Archives: Travel

03.14.14
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Spring Training

We just returned from a week of Spring Training, and as they say in baseball, it was a rough outing.  In the baseball world, Spring Training helps players get back in shape after a long winter hiatus and prepares teams for the upcoming season.  For my husband and I, the trip was about getting our recreational relationship back in shape after years of career and childrearing, as well as good training for our next season of life.

Here I am in my Giant's gear before our first game

Here I am in my Giant’s gear before our first game

I have several friends who thoroughly enjoy Spring Training games in Arizona.  My husband is a huge San Francisco Giants fan.  So I hatched the brilliant idea of taking a trip to Scottsdale for Giants Spring Training. I went on-line January 9 at 10:00 AM when tickets went on sale, not sure if anything would be available for non-season ticket holders.  When I gleefully discovered there were indeed tickets available, I binged on 5 consecutive game days.   I was sure this trip was going to be a home run!

In the meantime, I’ve been taking golf lessons.  I still stink, but at least I can (usually) make contact.  We recently unburied our golf clubs and bikes in our garage excavation, so we decided to take them with us.  My husband was playing quite a bit of golf when we first met, and riding bikes was a favorite activity in our early years.  My husband volunteered to book the hotel and found a place that was walking distance to Scottsdale Stadium and surprisingly inexpensive.  Man, this was going to be a grand slam homer!

In general, the trip was enjoyable and I would definitely do it again.  We loved the scenic afternoon and sunset drive through the Mojave Desert.  The baseball games were fun and it was interesting to see the different team stadiums.  Three of our games were at the Giants’ stadium in Scottsdale, one was at the KC Royals’ stadium in Surprise, AZ, and the last was at the Dodgers’ facility in Phoenix.  We found some great restaurants, including one quirky place in a former dentist’s office with a lovely outdoor patio in a mostly residential section of Phoenix, where a Charlie Byrd-type character with floor-length dreadlocks and an electric guitar was the entertainment.  On Saturday night, we explored the Desert Botanical Gardens, where there was a special “Chihuly in the Gardens” exhibit featuring spectacular blown glass artwork intermingled with the cacti.  I’d never seen anything like it and it was breathtaking.

We were pleasantly surprised to find our seats behind home plate in the shade for the game against the Royals in Surprise

We were pleasantly surprised to find our seats behind home plate in the shade for the game against the Royals in Surprise

However, the trip was no home run, but rather, as with any typical Spring Training, there were some errors as well as lessons learned.  As I thought about our past trips and recreational activities, I realized that, in the first 23 years of our marriage, we had only two years without kids in the house.  Even our activities during our courtship often included my stepson.  We have been empty nesters the past two years, but until six months ago I was still working and most of the trips we took were to visit our son.  Our married life has predominately been focused on children and work, not on leisure.  So it is understandable that we may be a little rusty in the fun department.

So, in no particular order, here are my observations (or “Coaching Report”) of our Spring Training performance, lessons learned, and things to work on:

1)   Don’t be overly chintzy on the lodging

Once we saw our motel, we understood why it was so inexpensive.  After a lovely first dinner at an upscale pizza joint in Scottsdale, we arrived at the motel, and found that our room included absolutely necessary items but not an inch of excess space or additional amenities.  We also discovered it emitted every sound imaginable.  Cars, trucks, refrigerator, air blowing from the A/C unit, neighbors, babies, you name it.  On top of the noise, the room had an odd odor.   I don’t think I got a restful night sleep the entire time we were there.  Granted we are now on a fixed income, but I am too old and have stayed at too many upscale hotels during my business travel days to go back to Motel 6.  We realized how much an uncomfortable lodging situation detracts from the fun factor.

2)   Be mindful of your partner’s preferences and temperament

After 25 years of marriage, I already knew my husband and I are quite different in certain key areas.  But there is nothing like being cooped up together in a car and a tiny, noisy, smelly room like lab rats for a week to accentuate the dissimilarities.

First of all, my husband is not a morning person.  He’s typically unenthusiastic about anything before noon.   He may wake up at a reasonable hour, but he likes to putz around, catch up on his sporting news, and generally ease into his day.  While I am not a crack of dawn person, I (especially since retiring) am probably most hyper in the morning and start to lose steam as the day progresses.  To me, sitting around all morning is an unfortunate waste of half a day.

An example of the amazing exhibit of blown glass at the Desert Botanical Gardens

An example of the amazing exhibit of blown glass at the Desert Botanical Gardens

Second, when I go on vacation, I love to see and do as much as possible.  The world is my oyster and I can’t bear the thought of missing something really cool.  My husband, on the other hand, likes a slower pace and plenty of downtime to relax.  Naps are one of his favorite vacation activities.

Somewhat related, I am also more of an extrovert than my husband.  He can be quite sociable but he is also perfectly happy with solitude and finds extended bouts with people tiring.  I, on the other hand, although not an extreme extrovert, am more energized by personal interactions and can feel isolated with too much quiet time.

With that as background, and in hindsight, it is not surprising that our two morning golf outings in Scottsdale were just short of disastrous.  After our first baseball game on Wednesday (to which we arrived bleary-eyed and sleep deprived after our first night at Motel Chintzy) I insisted we check out the golf course and reserve tee times for the next two mornings (since the baseball games were at 1 pm).  I also decreed that Saturday morning we would ride bikes.   In my current just-released-from-prison-i.e.-retired state, I was determined to not waste a moment!

But as I should have more wisely predicted, when the alarm went off at 7:30 AM the next morning after another rocky night at The Chintz, I realized I had Mr. Grumpypants for a golf partner.   My husband was clearly not happy to be rising so early and barely spoke until the 5th hole, and even then it was something like “Hey, can you move…. I can’t see the pin.”  He had no patience and it didn’t help that:

1)   I whiffed the ball more than I actually hit it

2)   I was averaging upwards of 9-10 strokes per hole

3)   We had a foursome behind us breathing down our necks

4)   I kept asking if I should use a 1-iron (which apparently doesn’t exist), AND

5)   I was texting on the course (which apparently is poor form)

 Things improved somewhat as the day wore on, but I wouldn’t characterize the outing as Fun.  I looked at it more as a character building exercise.  I remember reading about how Tiger Wood’s dad would employ all sorts of purposely disturbing techniques (like yelling or suddenly rattling keys when Tiger was putting) designed to teach focus and resilience and I thought perhaps golfing with Coach Grumpypants would somehow make me a tougher golfer.

And then, if you can believe it, we went golfing again the next morning with an even earlier tee time!  It was an only slightly better but similar experience and thus unfortunately, largely because of poor timing, our first golf outings together weren’t exactly the home runs I was expecting.

I finally got smart, and we moved our Saturday morning bike ride to that evening, which was much more pleasant.  We rode a beautifully scenic bike path along golf courses, parks, a canal (where we stopped to watch crew racing), and stopped to observe another stunning AZ sunset.

3)   Communicate, communicate, and communicate!

I would characterize communication as one of the strengths in our marriage.  We have always been able to talk through issues and resolve conflict through communication.  After we returned from this trip, we had our usual post-mortem debrief.  We both realized that not everything went as well as it could have.  We identified where we could have done better.

Through our conversations, my husband admitted he was deeply embarrassed about the motel room since he was the one who booked it, and that greatly affected his experience of our trip.  Since he prepaid through Expedia, he felt powerless to remedy the situation so he didn’t address it.  However, we concluded that we should have talked about it and our options on the spot, which would have at least called out the elephant in the room (albeit miniature pygmy elephant in that room) to alleviate any sense of shame.

We also talked about our contrasting temperaments and preferences and how we could better respect and accommodate our differences on future trips together.  Some options may include “parallel play” in the mornings, where I find things to do on my own before noon, leaving him to his quiet time, or, for example, having only one golf morning rather than two.  But in any case, giving each other space and permission to do things differently or separately.

We agreed the most important skill for us to work on is better communication earlier, before feelings get hurt and things go south fast.  The two bad golf outings not only colored our later experiences in the day, but also provoked negative emotions that were hard to put back once they were out of the bottle.   One of my disappointments at the time was that my husband agreed to my frenetic morning plans before we left on our trip and I felt we had a “contract”.  But, as much as pre-trip communication and planning is important (and my husband may have honestly thought he would enjoy golfing in the morning) we don’t always know how we will feel until we are actually in a situation, so there must be room for communication and negotiation and change to address one or both partner’s needs in the moment.

All in all, I think we effectively did our own marital version of Spring Training on this trip.  We worked on getting ourselves back in shape as a couple, identified areas for improvement, and prepared for the upcoming season.  And maybe we learned something.  We went golfing yesterday (LATE morning tee time) and had a great day together on the golf course.   My first home run of the season!!!!!

11.21.13
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Giverny: A Day With Monet

If you ever want to step back in time and into an impressionist painting, I know just the place for you.  Go to Giverny and visit Claude Monet’s home and gardens, where he lived from 1883 until his death in 1926.

We took the train from Paris to Vernon and rode bicycles the four miles to the village of Giverny.  Evidently, Claude Monet also first spotted Giverny while looking out of a train window. He chose to move there, leasing a house and the surrounding area. Eventually he bought the home and property and set out to create the magnificent gardens he wanted to paint. Many of his well-known paintings were of his grounds in Giverny, famous for its rectangular walled garden, with archways of climbing plants entwined around colored shrubs. Equally striking are the water garden with the Japanese bridge and the pond with the celebrated water lilies (the subject of the iconic paintings hanging at the Musee L’Orangerie in Paris).

When planning our Paris vacation, I plugged Giverny into our itinerary toward the end, but labeled it “optional” since I was skeptical we would still have the energy or will by that point. Plus, I was dubious that my husband would be super excited about florae. I was pleasantly surprised when he checked out Giverny on-line and enthusiastically declared it a Must Do.  He even researched and led us to a local SNCF office where we pre-purchased our train tickets.

With that, we arose at zero dark thirty the next day and, having now become experts on the metro AND train (due to our previous trip to Normandy), embarked without incident.  We located the bicycle rental shop across from the Vernon train station and rode a bike path along a train right-of-way through the quaint French countryside.  I felt as if I was riding a magical bike back in time.

Monet's Gardens - a veritable explosion of color!

Monet’s Gardens – a veritable explosion of color!

We arrived at Monet’s house and gardens not long after it opened and the crowds were surprisingly sparse.   We entered the gardens and it was a “Wizard of Oz” moment.   You know — where Dorothy steps out of the house into Oz and the movie changes from black and white to Technicolor.   It was a veritable explosion of color.  And I needn’t have worried about my husband as he was equally or more taken with the place than I.   My ex-military, sports-loving husband was besotted with flowers. We couldn’t walk more than five steps before he’d stop to take a picture.  “Look at that flower!”  “Oh, look at that tree!”  “Wow, look at this!”  By the time we left Giverny, he had taken over 500 pictures.    When I later tried to put together a slide show of Giverny, after coming home, I was hard pressed to leave any of the photos out…each one was spectacular, unique, colorful and unforgettable.

There is an unfortunate coda to the story, when I ate salmon in cream sauce for lunch at an historic hotel café in Giverny, got sick to my stomach and threw up in a baguette bag on the train to Paris.   (Based on the very French-like reaction, I got a definite sense it was a very un-French thing to do.)  But regardless of its less than classy ending, I’m so glad the Giverny agenda item was upgraded from optional to mandatory.  It was a lifetime memory and a beautifully joyful complement to our other day trip to Normandy D-Day beaches.

11.05.13
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Travel with the Spouse: The Togetherness Test

I liken international travel with one’s spouse (especially when not on an organized tour) to an Advanced Placement Exam in Marital Compatibility.  And I admit to some apprehension approaching our recent 2-½ week trip to France.  My husband and I had not done much foreign travel together, and had certainly not been together, just the two of us, 24/7 for that length of time since our honeymoon in 1988; and even then (1) our honeymoon was not that long and (2) we both still thought the other perfect.

Although I am not a fan of reality TV (so the following comparisons may not be 100% accurate) I was hoping our trip to Paris would be more “The Bachelorette” (those episodes in which starry-eyed couples are whisked away to romantic far-flung scenic locations) and not “Survivor” (where contestants conspire to rid themselves of each other) but maybe a bit of “The Amazing Race” thrown in.    Though, with respect to the “The Amazing Race,” which I actually enjoy, I had always been vocal in my opinion that I would much rather be on a team with my son than my husband.   My son has a better sense of humor, and I could envision my husband and I being that bickering couple that can’t even agree on how to get the envelope with the next clue open.  We can both be rather, um, opinionated.

Indeed, our first few days in Paris were trying.    If the journey was an AP Exam for us as a couple, it was a physical endurance test for my husband.  For starters, he is very tall, doesn’t particularly like big cities or crowds, and is lactose intolerant. Consequently, he deserves bonus points right off the bat for venturing to the most densely populated city in Europe, where the apartments are so small he could barely fit in the shower with the door closed (much less turn around), and which is chock-full of cheese.    Add fatigue, jet lag, inclement weather, and the language barrier to the mix and we had a recipe for disaster brewing.  In fact, observing my husband, clearly at first a fish out of water in Paris, I was initially worried that my “dream” trip was headed towards spectacular calamity.  The fatigue led to grumpiness and unlike home, where one can simply go to the other side of the house or run errands, there was nowhere to escape each other and those irritating moods, quirks and habits. (Yes, we have discovered some imperfections in each other in the ensuing 25 years.)  I have also learned, over the years, that my husband is not a “Gee whiz, we are in Paris and isn’t this swell!”  kind of a guy.   He will instead often plod through a day impassively and then later declare it a wonderful experience.  Accordingly, all I could do was trust that this trip would ultimately prove to be at least retroactively fun.

On our recent trip to Paris

On our recent trip to Paris

As the days progressed and we recovered from our fatigue and jet lag, got our bearings and the weather mercifully improved (and we learned to ignore the French) we fell into a happier, more comfortable rhythm.  The days were mostly  “The Amazing Race” and we learned to function like a team.  Happily, our evenings truly were “The Bachelorette” and we had wonderful, romantic evenings with candlelit dinners and strolls back to our apartment along the River Seine.   And to my great relief, we never had a serious “Survivor” moment where we wished we could vote the other off the island.

Traveling with one’s spouse can be both rewarding and risky business.  Here’s my take-aways from the whole experience:

Teamwork and engagement are important.  I’m the planner in the family so I did all the pre-trip planning, and consequently began to think of it as “my trip.” I initially approached our days in Paris like a self-appointed Tour Guide and did all the legwork and made all the arrangements and it began to feel like a job. Even though part of me had trouble giving up control of “my trip”, I found to my relief that things worked much better and we both had more fun once my husband fully engaged and took on tasks.  There was much to figure out on the ground with respect to transportation (metro system, trains, street maps, etc.). He became our Chief Navigation Officer and was responsible for getting us to and from places with his iPhone navigation apps, and took ownership for some of the planning, as when he spearheaded a wonderfully memorable night walk to take photos at some of our favorite monuments.    Next time, I will look for ways to get him more involved earlier.

Go with the flow.  When traveling to a foreign country, especially on your own like we did, there are numerous surprises and things that don’t go according to plan. We both had to learn to be flexible with our plans and with each other.  There were times when I really wanted to do something, but I could see from my husband’s face that that something might put him over the edge.  It’s also important to recognize when one or both parties might need some alone time to recharge, or to do separate activities.  And some of our favorite experiences stemmed from spontaneous detours from plan that I might have initially resisted.  I hated the idea of going to a falafel place in Paris but we did and it was great.

Girlfriend trips are different.  I have gone on great trips over the years with my female friends.  We usually laugh, shop, talk and do all the other things girlfriends do when they get together.  A trip with my husband is fundamentally different, because the relationship is fundamentally different.  I love both types of trips , but I have learned the types of trips and activities that work better with my friends and those that work better with my husband, and its better not to mix the two..   Trying to get my husband to spend a day shopping or wandering aimlessly or playing bingo with me on a cruise ship is just not going to work.   That’s what my girlfriends are for!

Know when to bite your tongue.  Big one for me!  Once one or both of us gets tired and cranky, it doesn’t take much from the other for things to quickly escalate out of control.  And when together constantly, it can become a pressure cooker situation with no place to hide. It can start over the silliest things – like when I stopped to take a picture of a flower stand and then realized that my husband had taken off without me and then I finally caught up with him on busy Blvd St Germaine and was ready to tear his head off but thankfully thought better of it before I got too far in my “commentary”.  We had made a pact before we left home not to let any disagreements ruin our time together on this trip.  There were some minor flare-ups, but nothing serious, and it helped to count to ten and remember our pact.

Granted, these take-aways may seem to be rather basic relationship advice, but are things that can trip my husband and I up under normal circumstances, and it was important to recognize that extended togetherness can put additional strain on a marriage or other relationship and must be carefully managed.  International travel can be hard work!

And if this trip was an AP exam, what was the result?   We certainly didn’t get a perfect score, but we found ourselves to be surprisingly compatible!  That we successfully overcame every trial we faced together (sometimes smoothly, sometimes ugly) was a real boost to our relationship.  It was a challenging, incredible, life changing and shared experience.   If I had done this trip with someone else, I would not have been able to adequately convey what I saw and experienced to my husband.   Now that we’re back home, I love hearing him enthusiastically tell other people about all the things we did in France and his perspectives on the experience.   The trip confirmed and deepened our level of trust with each other.  When I got sick on the train coming back from Giverny (I’ll spare the details), I was exceedingly grateful that I was with my husband because I have the utmost confidence in him.   After years of balancing careers and family and tag teaming and co-parenting, now that we’re retired empty nesters, we re-discovered our abiding friendship.  We still really like each other! My husband may have some really annoying habits, but so do I (although I’m convinced mine are less annoying). Nonetheless our more unvarnished acceptance and affection for each other is a richer and more satisfying companionship.

Probably the single best indicator occurred before we had even left Paris, enroute to the airport for our flight home, when my husband turned to me and said (with palpable enthusiasm in his voice) ”So where should we go on our next big trip?!”

10.31.13
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Normandy: Paying Our Respects

I wish every American could visit the D-Day Beaches in Normandy and pay tribute to the servicemen who risked or sacrificed their lives there.  We were privileged to do so on our recent trip to France and it was one of the most unforgettable parts of our journey.

Prior to leaving Paris for Normandy, my husband and I watched “Saving Private Ryan” on DVD.  I previously eschewed this movie; afraid I would be unable to stomach the gristly D-Day battle scenes.  However, in preparation for our D-Day tour, I felt it important to watch to gain a small measure of appreciation for what the troops braved.

We took a 2-hour train from Paris on Friday evening and spent the weekend at the Hotel Churchill (reputed to have been Eisenhower’s favorite hotel during the war) in Bayeux, which was the closest village to the D-Day beaches that was left untouched during the conflict.  On Saturday, we toured the American D-Day beaches.

Our guide was Dominique, a French woman whose family resided in the area for generations.  She was extremely knowledgeable, spoke excellent English due to a stint in Santa Barbara, CA, and gave us a local perspective on historical events.  She peppered her commentary with personal stories of relatives who participated in the French Resistance and their involvement with the occupation and liberation, which was fascinating.

What I learned, from a historical perspective, was that the D-Day beaches were code-named Sword, Juno, Gold, Omaha, and Utah, for purposes of the Allied invasion on June 6, 1944. The Americans were responsible for Omaha and Utah and these were the beaches we visited.   Young soldiers (many of them 18 – 20 years old with no previous combat experience) carrying 70 libs of battle gear apiece were transported in flat bottom boats in rough waters to the shore (many becoming seasick) and dropped into the cold water, several drowning under the weight of their gear even before reaching shore.

The first units, taking advantage of surprise, made their way quickly to farmland at Gold, Juno and Sword Beaches.  Americans at Omaha were not that lucky.  There, in the center of the battlefront, soldiers walked into a wall of German gunfire.  Earlier bombing raids had been largely ineffective in taking out the heavy German armaments.  Attempting to scale a bluff well covered by German defenders, more than 2,000 GIs were killed or wounded.   After penetrating corpse-laden beaches, the soldiers ran into a maze of hedgerows in which the Germans had stationed machine gunners, invisible to the Allies until they were virtually on top of them. But by nightfall, they had secured the bluff and later proceeded to join troops enroute to liberating France.

No one is certain of the exact numbers, but there were probably around 4,500 American and Allied casualties the first day, horrific yet considerably less than the 75,000 some planners had feared. That more troops were not killed is testimony to the planning, training and weaponry of the Allies.

My husband wading into the waters at Omaha Beach

My husband wading into the waters at Omaha Beach

Watching “Saving Private Ryan” beforehand helped to personalized the story of Omaha Beach.  The movie conveys the terror, anxiety, sadness and horror felt by the young men who participated in D-Day.  During our tour, even though the weather was blustery and cold (but warmer than the actual D-Day), my husband (himself a military veteran) wore shorts and sandals, and he walked down the beach and into the water so he could feel what the troops felt and, looking back at the shore, see what they saw.  We observed the immense width of the beaches (which were not as low tide as on the actual D-Day) GIs were required to traverse in the face of withering enemy fire, remnants of the heavily fortified German bunkers and weaponry, the craters still visible from Allied bombing, the lethal hedgerows; all combined to leave us overcome with a profound sense of sadness for the loss of so many and a deep gratitude for their courage. We were heartened to witness the gratitude still felt and exhibited by the French in Normandy toward Americans.

The American Cemetery in Normandy

The American Cemetery in Normandy

The next stop after Omaha Beach was the American Cemetery, overlooking Omaha, where 9,300 U.S. service men and women are buried, representing only a third of the total U.S. casualties in Normandy (the remaining two-thirds were returned home at their families’ request).   Half of those killed in Normandy had no previous combat experience.  This I found the most emotional part of the visit.   Rows and rows of marble crosses and Stars of David stretched as far as the eye could see.  As I walked through these sacred grounds, with tears streaming down my face, I read the names and ages and hometowns of those resting there.  Age 19, age 20, age 18—– it was heartbreaking and I considered my anguish if one of these were my own 20-year-old son.   I said quiet prayers of gratitude for them and prayers of comfort for their families.

The British Cemetery in Bayeux

The British Cemetery in Bayeux

The next day, after we returned to Bayeux, we visited the British Cemetery, where 4,650 are buried (including some Germans).  It was a lovely cemetery with rows of stone markers decorated with colorful flowers.   I again felt overcome with emotion, particularly as I read the personal messages on the gravestones.  One in particular caught my eye and tugged at my heartstrings:

TREASURED MEMORIES OF A DEAR SON

HE WAS SO YOUNG TO GIVE SO MUCH

"He was so young to give so much"

“He was so young to give so much”

We should always remember the sacrifices made by these young men and remember that they were just that – young men.  Each had a story and a future and a family and hopes and dreams.  No matter how terrified, they said “yes” to the call, and the result was the preservation of life and freedom for others.  I am grateful that I was able to travel to this awful, beautiful, and blessed place to personally say thank you to these valiant heroes of the “Greatest Generation”.

10.24.13
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Paris: The Highlight Reel

After spending over 2 weeks in Paris recently, I’ve been repeatedly asked what I enjoyed most about the trip.  Rather than show the 30-minute slide show (with music!) that I’ve been subjecting my friends to, I’ll do a quick run-down. Note that my opinions are completely based on this, my one and only, trip to Paris, but here goes:

A typical view on our night-time walk back to our apartment

A typical view on our night-time walks back to our apartment

The nights – The city is at its absolute magical and romantic best at night.  With the lights illuminating the buildings, monuments and the Seine, Paris by night is spectacularly beautiful.  My husband and I would find a restaurant each night, where we would enjoy a magnificent. 3-hour dinner with a bottle of wine (we never had a bad meal) and then walk back to our apartment hand-in-hand, completely mesmerized with the city and each other.  It was as if we were under Paris’s spell.

Me and my "vela" across from Notre DameBike riding – We went on two bike tours in Paris.  One was a day tour with Bike About Tours and the other a night tour with Fat Tire Bike Tours.  Both cater to English-speaking tourists and provide young spunky guides to steer their charges through the perils of Paris boulevards and provide some commentary along the way.  We were at first skeptical of the wisdom of taking on Paris by bike, but the tours came highly recommended so we decided to chance it…and loved it!    We found biking an easier and faster way to cover more ground than walking. For our day tour, we rode all over the city with a lovely young Swedish guide named Angelica.  She gave us historical commentary as well as her personal perspective as a young student immigrant to Paris.   For our night tour, we had a young burly German-American guide named Nick who was in Paris working on a master’s degree in information technology.  His main goal was to keep us all alive.  I have never been more terrified (and more euphoric) than on our ride down Boulevard St Germaine at night in heavy traffic.  Nick’s often-repeated survival strategy was for us to all stay together in a block and when faced with oncoming traffic use “The Power of the Palm” (i.e., holding the hand in a bold gesture toward the oncoming vehicle.)  My gratitude at outliving that stretch turned to wonderment when we crossed the Seine and biked into the courtyard of the Louvre.  I was overcome with emotion at the beauty of the scene.  I remember thinking to myself “I can’t friggin’ believe that I am actually here at the Louvre… at night…on a bike!”  It was beyond cool.

Seine River cruise – I signed us up for the evening of the first full day we were in Paris, thinking it would be a nice introduction to the city.  But we couldn’t find the boat launch and it was one frustrating experience walking around the docks dressed up trying to find the right spot and not able to ask for directions (see my previous post about my issues with French).  Later in the week, after I read the instructions more carefully and realized we actually walked right by the launch twice, we did the cruise on what proved to be a much better, clearer night.   We saw a dramatic sunset onboard during dinner, and then the lights of the city. The waiter was kind enough to move us to a window seat.  And by this time, having spent a little time walking around the city, it was enjoyable to see familiar sights from the water.

Musee D’Orsay – This was by far my favorite museum.  It is housed in a former train station, which itself is stunning.  The D’Orsay holds mainly French art dating from 1848 to 1915, including paintings, sculptures, furniture, and photography. It houses the largest collection of impressionist and post-impressionist masterpieces in the world, by painters including Monet, Manet, Degas, Renoir, Cezanne, Gauguin and Van Gogh.  It was also where the seemingly meek museum security guard suddenly shouted “Madame!” at me from across the lobby when I took an unauthorized photo (I couldn’t help myself).  My second favorite museum was the Musee de l’Orangerie, which contains the famous water lilies paintings by Monet.  This was a quick 20-minute stop but one of the most unforgettable.

Luxembourg Gardens – I’ve been to several famous parks and gardens in the U.S., including New York’s Central Park, but I have never seen anything like Luxembourg Gardens.  The flowers!  The lake!  The fountains!  We strolled through during the middle of a weekday afternoon and it was bustling with Parisians soaking up sun, children on the playground, tennis matches and bocce ball games in progress.  It was an explosion of color and beauty and activity.  I later read that the French equivalent CIA has it headquarters under the park, which only added to its appeal.

Waiting at the "Midnight in Paris" stairs for the Magic Cab to pick me up!

Waiting at the “Midnight in Paris” stairs for the Magic Cab to pick me up!

Walking  – We loved exploring the neighborhoods of Paris.  One day on a whim we did a “Midnight in Paris” treasure hunt.  We re-watched the Woody Allen movie before we left home and decided to find the scene locations.  We found a self-tour someone had posted on-line and set off on our quest. We found two of Hemingway’s apartments, Gertrude Stein’s salon, homes of Cole Porter and Ezra Pound, and the famous “stairs,” where the character played by Owen Wilson stops and rests after getting lost in Paris one evening.  Around the corner comes a vintage 1920s cab, which picks him up and transports him back in time, where he meets Hemingway, Porter, Stein and others.  The actual stairs used in the movie are at the Church of St Etienne du Mont near the Pantheon. We also did a self-tour of the Montmartre area, and found an eclectic mix of sites including Picasso’s studio, Renoir’s apartment, Van Gogh’s house, the café from the French film Amelie and the last remaining vineyard in Paris.

The Jupiter Fountain Water Show

The Jupiter Fountain Water Show

The Gardens of Versailles – I didn’t care much for the Chateau (palace) of the Louis’ (XIV – XVI).  It was definitely worth seeing — beautiful in an ostentatious, over-the-top sort of way.  But the crowds were horrific and I was happy to be spilled out the back door to what I found most spectacular and memorable about the visit – the gardens.  It was a stunningly gorgeous day and we were fortunate to visit on a day when the water fountains were flowing.  The last thing we saw before leaving was a 15-minute water display at the “Jupiter Fountain” made up of at least 40 individual fountains.  It was not high-tech, with lights or lasers or gadgetry,  but rather a lovely and graceful water display on a beautiful day with period music playing in the background.  At the conclusion, I noticed a young worker who carried what proved to be an enormous ancient metal sprinkler key (not unlike a gigantic version of ours before we installed automatic timers) open a cap in the pavement, turn a valve with the key, and off went the water!  Just as they’ve been doing since the 1790s no doubt.

Normandy and Giverny – We took two side-trips, one to Normandy to tour the D-day Beaches and Mont St Michel, and the other to Giverny to see Monet’s house and garden.  Both were highlights of the trip and warrant posts of their own to describe.

My first night-time viewof the Eiffel Tower, doing its sparkle show!

My first night-time view of the Eiffel Tower, doing its sparkle show!

Eiffel Tower – Even though I’d seen a zillion pictures my entire life, the Eiffel Tower in person is still hands down the most spectacular sight in Paris.  I’d already been to Epcot Center and Paris Las Vegas Hotel and Casinso (with its scale model of the Tower) so I thought I’d already pretty much seen it.  But the sight of the real thing in person at night takes your breath away. The night of our ill-fated dinner cruise (when we couldn’t find the launch spot) we instead went to dinner at a restaurant nearby.  As we rounded a corner, I caught my first sight of the Eiffel Tower all lit up.  Not only that…every hour on the hour for five minutes there is a sparkly light display on the Tower……and that was my first view.   I immediately burst into tears at the sight.   I realized that, even though we missed our dinner cruise and I was initially terribly disappointed, in this city there are countless other splendors just waiting around the corner.

10.19.13
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Paris: Pahr-Lay Voo?

I always thought French was such a beautiful language…until I got in a wrestling match with it.  Some people have a knack for languages.  That group would not include me. In addition to English, I struggled through four years of Spanish in school.  Although I’m not great at it, if I find myself in a foreign country, any foreign country, I for some reason reflexively revert to random Spanish.  I once greeted (Hola!”)  and tried to give instructions in Spanish to a cab driver in Japan.  My brain evidently divides the world into English-speaking and Everything Else.

My husband was no help – he took German in school. In anticipation of our trip to Paris, we had every intention of learning some French.  I looked into potentially taking a community college course but couldn’t find one that fit my schedule.  Then I downloaded a French app on my iPhone that proved to be useless (“the cat is black”) and with which I developed a weird love-hate relationship.  (A bell would ring when a correct answer was given and an obnoxious gong would sound when I messed up.) We still have the “Quick and Easy” French language CDs that someone lent us sitting, un-cracked, on the kitchen counter.   And, I got busy with other preparations.

Everyone assured us, however, that “Parisians all speak English” and “you only need to know a few key phrases.”  I listened to Rick Steves podcasts which I interpreted as saying that as long as you start any communication with pleasantries such as “Bonjour Madame,” (to create some goodwill) you would then be forgiven for either not speaking or butchering the language.

I never left the apartment without my key tools of communication

I never left the apartment without my key tools of communication

So off we headed to France, having memorized about 3 key phrases, most of which we already knew from movies and It’s a Small World. Just to be safe, I downloaded iTranslate on my iPhone, and a friend lent me a little Berlitz “French for Travelers” book.

On the flight over, I pulled out the Berlitz and glanced over the special rules of French.  For example, a “G” is pronounced “J” or “Z,”  the last consonant in a syllable is usually silent or picked up at the beginning of the next, and an “R” is a weird throat sound.  I was starting to get nervous.   The phrases were listed phonetically and I noticed that they were pronounced much differently than they were spelled.  The French seem to disregard whole chunks of letters in a word and add or mispronounce others.  I spent much of the flight repeating over and over to myself “pahrlay voo ahnggleh” (do you speak English?) and  “zher ner pahrlpah frahngsseh”  (I don’t speak French.).  How stupid was that – learning how to say you can’t speak a language…in that language?!

Our language troubles in France began almost immediately.  When we arrived at our apartment, a young fellow named Leandro met us.   He spoke no English.   He gave us the keys and explained everything we needed to know in French…. and pantomime.  When it came time to agree on a time for check-out, we pulled out our iPhones and negotiated via iTranslate, When he left I wasn’t completely sure how anything worked or what I had just agreed to.  Then we walked to the Metro station to buy either a weekly pass or a carnet (I wasn’t sure which was best or how to buy).  We found the Information Desk, as Rick Steves advised to get help, and I did my best “Bonjour Madame, pahrlay voo ahnggleh” and she looked at me, unimpressed, and said (in perfect English I might add) “No”.  The next trial was finding supplies at the market.  Everything was in French! (And why did that surprise me?) I found a friendly young Parisian who admitted to speaking a “little” English but “soy milk” wasn’t in her vocabulary.  By the end of the first day, we were mentally exhausted.

Over the course of our visit, I found the language barrier more problematic than anticipated.  English was not as widely spoken as I had expected. I was embarrassed that I hadn’t learned more French and that I probably epitomized the stereotypical ignorant American who expects everyone to speak English.  When I did attempt French, I’m sure I bungled it horribly.  The French word for “where” is pronounced “oo-ay” so when I asked for directions I’d try to say “oo-ay  toilet or oo-ay metro.”  One entire day, I got puzzled looks with my requests for directions—- since I couldn’t remember, I was alternating between “ee-ay” or “i-ay” or “oy-vay”.  When a proper response to a question was “oui” I often said “si” (back to my random Spanish).  My husband, despite my frequent coaching, never quite mastered the “Bonjour Madame” lead-in, and charged into every conversation in English without any pleasantries either in French or English.  We became accustomed to that Look of Disdain that Parisians do so well.  While on a train to Normandy, it came to a halt, an announcement was made in French only, and many people got off.  Some time later, another announcement in French, and everyone got back on.  We still have no idea what happened.  At that point, I mentioned to my husband that not speaking or understanding the language gave me the sense of being deaf and dumb.

But more importantly, not speaking the language impeded our ability to connect with the locals.  One thing I enjoy about traveling is meeting people in the places we visit.  Since we stayed in an apartment rather than a hotel, locals rather than English-speaking support staff and fellow guests surrounded us. I shared my frustration with an Australian woman we met in Normandy and she told me she had taken French lessons but it didn’t help that much.  So, I’m not sure I could’ve learned enough French to have the level of engagement I enjoy, but I think next time I visit a non-English speaking country I would like to make more of an effort to learn the language.  At least so I could say “I speak a little of your language” in their language.

10.16.13
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Paris: Mort de Musee (Death by Museum)

I can now cross a major item off my Bucket List – my husband and I just returned from a 15-day dream trip to Paris.  The first five days of our trip, however, nearly contributed to an Early Bucket, triggered equally by fatigue and a husband-led revolt.

Since we weren’t going on an organized tour, I spent an inordinate amount of time working on the itinerary in the four weeks following my retirement and before we left.  (I had hoped to use my last days in the office to plan my trip but I was kept busy until the bitter end.)  I used the Rick Steves “Paris” book as my Bible and received numerous tips from almost everyone I know who heard I was going to Paris and had been there before.   Of course I didn’t want to miss anything, so it was a challenge putting an itinerary together.   I’m the planner in our family and due to both choice and circumstances my husband was completely uninvolved until he started packing.

The Four-Day Museum Passes seemed like a good idea

The Four-Day Museum Passes seemed like a good idea

The Rick Steves book recommended the purchase of Paris Museum Passes, which cover many of the major museums and sites in Paris.  The passes both save money and allow holders to bypass long lines, and come in two, four or six day versions (but must be used on consecutive days).   The strategy I decided to employ (based on Rick Steves advice) was to list all the Museum Pass attractions I wanted to see, add up how much they would cost without the pass, and then assess which version would be most cost- and time-effective.   Based on this analysis, I decided on 4-day passes (5-day passes would have been ideal but they don’t exist).  Since the various sites are open different hours and days, the next puzzle was to identify the four consecutive days that would work for the sites identified.  Unfortunately, the only four-consecutive-day block that would work was right smack at the beginning of our trip.  We would have one day to get settled and then, BAM!, we’d start our Museum Pass days.  I thought it would be aggressive in terms of slightly grueling days at the beginning of our trip, but hey, we could do it!

We arrived in Paris at 6:00 AM on a Tuesday morning.  It was cold and rainy and we were severely jet-lagged and tired.   We spent most of Tuesday sleeping and getting oriented to our apartment and neighborhood.  Then Wednesday dawned and it was time to buy our Museum Passes and start ticking off the list.  Here was our itinerary for Wed – Sat:

Wednesday:

Historic Paris Walk (Notre Dame, Sainte Chapelle, Conciergerie, Deportation Memorial, Ile St Louis, Latin Quarater, Pont Neuf)

Thursday:

Orsay Museum, Rodin Museum, Napoleon’s Tomb and Army Museum, Rue Cler Walk and “relax” at Cafe

Friday:

Champs Elysees Walk (starting at Arc de Triomph and ending at Tuileries Garden for lunch), Orangerie Museum, Louvre

Saturday: 

Versailles (Château, Gardens,  Trianon Palaces, and Domaine de Marie Antoinette)

My husband at the end of one of our Museum Pass days

My husband at the end of one of our Museum Pass days

I approached the days like a drill sergeant with special orders. My husband was doing his best to be a good sport and would dutifully ask “What’s Next?” after finishing each site, but he soon began to resemble a prisoner on a death march. The real trouble began somewhere between Napoleon’s Tomb and the Arc de Triomph when his mood turned suddenly foul.  It got so bad on the Champs Elysees (not even a hot chocolate and pastries at Laduree broke the mood) that I briefly considered waving the white flag and declaring a Free Day (Museum Pass be damned!)   Luckily, there was some relief when we met an American couple from Davis, CA, at the café for lunch who turned out to be SF Giants fans.  I looked to the heavens in the Tuilleries Garden and said a prayer of thankfulness. Talking about the World Series last year lifted my husband’s spirits and gave him that extra boost he needed to get up and attack the Louvre.

A moment I will never forget came around 4:30 pm near the end of our last Museum Pass Day, at Versailles (which was an entire day trip in itself and a 30-minute train ride from Paris).  My husband looked at me with the most pathetic disoriented look in his eyes and asked “Are We Going to Giverny today, too?”

In hindsight, we might have either stretched out the museums, broken them up or done them after we got our Paris legs under us.  On the other hand, we both felt like we got the “work” out of the way early, saw the Things You Must See When You Go To Paris and were now free to wander freely…and THAT was fun!  More on that later.

10.09.13
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The Good, The Bad and The Ugly: Our Trip to Washington, D.C.

We just returned from a weekend in the Washington, D.C., area, specifically Annapolis, MD, where we experienced some of the best and the worst of our country.  The purpose of the trip was threefold, to: (1) visit our son, a Midshipman at the US Naval Academy in Annapolis; (2) attend the Navy-Air Force football game; and (3) participate in President’s Circle Weekend at USNA.  The Presidents Circle is comprised of donors to the USNA and the weekend is intended to honor, entertain and provide information to PC members.

The Tuesday before our trip to Annapolis, the federal government shut down due to the inability of elected officials to agree on a funding bill.   Subsequently, it was announced that all service academy sports would be suspended and civilian employees (including instructors) at the service academies would be part of a larger federal government employee furlough.

There have been government shutdowns in the past, but never have the service academy sporting events been affected.  I also learned that Navy uses no appropriated funds and Army and Air Force only minimal amounts to support their football programs.  Basically, some of America’s finest student-athletes who are under already enormous pressure to fulfill their academic, physical, athletic and military obligations were being used as a political football (literally and figuratively) to impose additional pressure on the partisan process. After 36-48 hours of wrangling, it was announced that the Navy-Air Force as well as the Army-Boston College games would be played.  Future academies’ sporting events, however, are still in limbo.

With all this as a backdrop, we landed late Thursday evening at Dulles airport and drove through Washington, D.C.  I was reminded of how beautiful the city is, particularly at night with all the floodlit monuments.  I feel very proud and patriotic when I visit Washington and see the Washington, Jefferson and Lincoln memorials, but this time I felt a profound sense of shame and sadness as I considered the resident stupidity superimposed on a city resplendent with beautiful tributes to our democracy.

On Friday, we participated in a full day of President’s Circle meetings.   The Superintendent of the Academy addressed us, barely containing his anger and frustration with the shutdown beneath his usual impenetrable and optimistic cheerfulness.  He reported that, for the first week of the shutdown, the military instructors were pulling double-duty shifts, covering as best they could for furloughed civilian professors. Even so, about 20% of classes were cancelled, and that number would rise to 50% if the furlough extended into the second week.  Midshipmen (who must finish their schooling in four years) that are majoring in certain areas where departments were hit especially hard by the shutdown, including Chemistry, are in danger of not qualifying for specialized degrees if the shutdown continues much longer.  It was clear that the Superintendent had spent a significant portion of his week not focused on strategic direction, but instead at the Pentagon negotiating for a football game and resources and throwing together contingency plans to provide basic needs to the Brigade of Midshipmen.  In fact, the technical crew that should have been at Alumni Hall to run the sound and media had been furloughed, so members of the Navy band were filling in.

In contrast to our experience of the bad and the ugly, we also experienced the good.   I had lunch with two female Midshipmen who refused to be discouraged by the shutdown.  They shrugged it off, expressing confidence that things would work out and, in the meantime, described how the entire USNA community was banding together to help each other, including tutoring, coaching, and mentoring.  In larger terms, they spoke of their excitement and pride at being at the Naval Academy and their desire to serve their country.  I asked about their experience being female at the Naval Academy and both found the Academy to be a more supportive environment than they had anticipated.

Saturday was game day and, as usual, my husband and I attended his USNA Class tailgate before the game.  At the tailgate I met two gentlemen – one a USNA classmate of my husband’s who had been a Blue Angel, and the other, an USAFA graduate who had been a Thunderbird.   They had met during their concurrent Blues/T-Bird tours of duty and have been fast friends ever since.  Unexpected encounters like this are what I love about visiting Annapolis. As a bookend to the Mids with their whole career in front of them, I love hearing the veterans describe with love, sadness, excitement, wistfulness, regret, but always pride, their military careers.

We put cares aside and foam ships hats on our heads and enjoyed a great game

We put cares aside and foam ships on our heads and enjoyed a great game

And then it was time for the Game That Almost Didn’t Happen.   A sellout crowd, setting a home game record, poured into Navy-Marine Corps Memorial Stadium on a beautiful balmy day in Annapolis.  We took a break from partisan bickering and all of us, Democrats, Republicans and Independents, watched the young men from Navy and Air Force play a game of football.  A game that means a lot to them and to service members around the world.  A game that likely will determine which Academy wins the Commander in Chief Trophy and a trip to the White House.  A game that should not have been used as a bargaining chip by warring factions in Washington. We watched the Midshipmen; wearing goofy yellow foam ship hats, jump for joy as their team defeated Air Force 28-10.  And in the end, I resolved that I’d like to find a way to use my time and talents to provide constructive reform to the political process in our country.  I want to support our young people in the military who are putting their lives on the line every day to protect us, and I want to support the future leaders of our country to whom we are handing a very broken world, and, mostly,  I want to feel proud again when I drive back from Annapolis through Washington, D.C., to Dulles airport.