From my journal–
Sept. 29 8:30 am
Landed safely at Charles de Gaulle airport. Now on board the TGV to Avignon. CDG is very gray and a bit grimy. Heard many languages being spoken. Poor amenities. We are in 1st class on this train and it is nice. We have large comfy seats and big windows. There is a fold down desktop and a power supply. The seats are silver gray and white stripes, reminding me a bit of the classic French sailor shirt.
I slept about 5 hours on the plane thanks to Ambien and had weak coffee and a fully chemicalized muffin top for breakfast. USAirways just is a second class airline. Travel JetBlue out of Charlotte when you can. I won’t bore you with our seat assignment debacle. We sorted it.
The coffee on the train was wonderful and I learned a new trick for drinking coffee. I may have invented it. They serve you tiny sticks of dark chocolate with it. For lack of a spoon, I stirred my hot coffee with the chocolate, then licked the melted stick. Ymmmmmmmm m. So I did it again, And again. When the stick was too small for that, I just put it in my mouth and drank the coffee over it. Wonderful.
Out the window was lovely. Lots of white cows in rolling pastures and farm buildings that looked centuries old. I took pics through the window and have no way to Photoshop them, so you will have to take them as they are.
When was the last time you used the word bucolic? Me, too, but it is the perfect word to describe what I am seeing in central France.
Saturday night 11:30 pm
Sitting up in bed listening to the street.
Huge thunderstorms all afternoon in Arles. Went for a walk and got soaked. Will my tennis shoes ever dry? Neat shops, twisty close streets; must find the soap shop again tomorrow. !!! Dumb! For twenty years I have carried a rain poncho in a nice plastic bag to cities all over the world. Never had to use it. Found it in my bag when I unpacked tonight! Didn’t have to get so wet. Dumb!
We knocked around a bit between deluges. Steve is so sleepy he doesn’t really know what he wants to do. (Would not take Ambien.) we finally stopped for the requisite tourist drink at the Cafe la Nuit of Van Gogh fame. Beautiful waitress, but grumpy manager. Lots of Japanese men having coffee there.
I took artsy pictures until Steve began to lose patience. I will return tomorrow to shoot the amazing old doors everywhere.
My knee hurts like bloody hell, but I will not give in unless it completely gives out. Tomorrow I will merely walk from cafe to cafe or shop to shop. Steve will have to hike on his own.