Up at 5am to try to beat the hectic traffic out of Paris. Kurt and Chelsea helped us to the car with all our luggage. This was going to be a scary day.
First of all, Chelsea was leaving Paris by herself to go back to the states. Kurt rode in the cab with her but had to be dropped off at his terminal first. She would have to find where to print her ticket then find her gate. She is usually a very brave girl, but this had her worried a little, and her mama a lot!
Secondly, Kurt was leaving to fly to Barcelona by himself to go to a music festival. He didn't seem to mind, but I was worried for both of them.
And lastly, I had to drive us out of Paris and home to Baran. Kathy was in charge of the GPS which was not working properly. I tried to steady my nerves with little success. We found ourselves lost very quickly. We were scared, so we called Kurt and worried him. He could hear the fear in my voice and at one point, my very patient son said, "Mom, do not talk, just listen to me. Turn off your GPS, then turn it back on and set it for Baran." He had saved it to favorites for me. Once we did what he told us, we were easily on our way out of Paris.
Finally in Baran, we took a much needed nap then headed to LaMerenda for a great meal.
After dinner, we went to a cemetery to look for Reneaus and to let them see how ornate the graves are.
Then I took Mom and Kathy to Redon Espic, a 14th century church that was built for sound. While our mother stayed outside up on the hill, Kathy and I went inside and immediatly heard the resonant sound of our footsteps. We discussed how great singing must sound so we sat down and sang, "Take the Name of Jesus with you". It was the song our grandmother sang to us as children when she rocked us to sleep. When I say that I cannot sing, I mean it. It's bad. My sister, Kathy inherited that same trait. BUT...it sounded wonderful in that church. Our mother was taking pictures outside and thought there must have been a choir inside singing. We made a plan to come back to sing there again. We will probably never sing pretty again until Heaven. Surely, God has built churches for people like us to sing in.
At dusk, I took them to L'Oratoire. Home at dark for decaf cafe's and once again, Ever After. I will never tire of that movie.
Updated: Jun 3, 2022
We rose at 5am for the long journey into the city. Kurt had timed it so we would arrive just when all Parisians were sitting down, leisurely enjoying their two-hour dejuner' (lunch). We thought it would make for a smoother drive through Paris. Wrong. We'd never experienced anything like it. In Pairs, instead of stop signs, there are roundabouts at every turn. It was confusing enough when there was only one lane in a roundabout, dangerous when there were two, but it was sheer pandemonium in Paris. There were no marked lanes, and the road was wide enough for eight cars, so the Parisians crammed in about ten cars, six motorcycles, five taxis, four vespas, three cyclists, two pedestrians, and a city bus, all going in opposite directions. None of them considered the others while crossing, merging, turning, edging their cars right up to the other cars. Kurt, who is always calm, cool and collected said, "Once we get this car into the parking garage, it will not be moved until we leave Paris on Friday." Wonderful, I would be driving it then. Coming out of the parking garage, we realized that out hotel was right next to the Arc de Triomphe. Location, location, location.
Kathy had booked the hotel late one night and had mistakenly paid an outrageous amount for just one night, thinking it was for two. "Oh, well.", we thought, "It will be nice to stay in a swanky hotel in Paris.", so we booked it for another night, as well. YOLO, right?
Kurt and I checked into the hotel and were surprised how small our rooms were. They were nice enough, but certainly not what we were expecting. I guess, we really were paying for just the location, location, location. It was really nice to be right in the middle of things. Kurt, Chelsea and I had a couple of hours before Mom and Kathy arrived, so we enjoyed our French-style delicous two-hour lunch while sitting in a sidewalk restaurant, doing our own people watching.
After they arrived, we decided that the first place we wanted to see was Montmartre', a place where the artists set up their booths, paint and sell their works. Kathy and I love paintings and rain was forecasted for the next day. It was a long, and I mean long, walk, all uphill. Mom said we were trying to kill her. It almost killed all of us. Up hills and steps, we reached The Place du Tertre' and saw the little town square filled with artists. Worth every single solitary step! Kathy and I looked at every booth and made our selections.
With armloads of paintings, we toured Sacre Coeur, a beautiful church at the second highest point in Paris. There were no cameras or talking allowed in the church. The nuns were singing, and it was so beautiful, it gave me chills.
You'd think that the trek down would have been easier, but we were weighed down with our packages and were all tired from the day of traveling. It was threatening rain the entire way down and we worried about our paintings getting wet in the oncoming downpour, but we made it into the hotel just as it started. We unloaded our haul into the rooms and walked across the street to enjoy an Italian feast of pizza, spaghetti, ravioli with truffles and Kurt had a fishy pasta dish.
The next morning, we planned to get to the Eiffel tower an hour before it opened, because we had heard about the long lines. We took a taxi van since there were five of us. When we arrived, we were disappointed to see that our one hour early should have been two or three. The line already weaved back and forth, so we chose to walk around it and enjoy it from below. It is truly an beautiful piece of work.
Feeling brave, we chose to find the Louvre on foot. Another long walk worth every step. Inside, we enjoyed room after room of beautiful sculptures, culminating in viewing the Venus de Milo. Then, it was on to the paintings. In 2008, my favorite part of the Louvre had been the Histoire du Louvre, a room filled with paintings made hundreds of years ago, of art viewing visitors, in period clothing, doing just what we were doing, appreciating the creative works of artists before them.
We took our time walking the Champs Elysees, with our eyes on the Arc de Triomphe all the way back to our hotel. For dinner, it was Tex-Mex at a restaurant called Indiana, then to bed, dreading what was to come in the morning...
Updated: Jun 3, 2022
Our daily routine goes a little something like this. We sleep entirely too late, til around 10 am. We open all the windows and the top of the Dutch door in the kitchen. We brew coffee and toast a baguette, slather it in French butter, top it with either Speculoos (graham cracker paste that we thought was peanut butter), then top it with fig or fruit jelly. Most days we do a load of laundry and hang it out to dry, then sit at the long farmhouse table and plan our day. Should we tour another castle? Should we look for depot ventes to shop for junk, or go to the daily street market? Maybe, we could visit another ancient church and look through the cemetery for our ancestors.
Some days, we don't plan. We just choose a direction and have an adventurous day, just see what we see. Those have been some of our best days.
After our daily adventures, back at home in the afternoon, we sit outside and each do our thing. I blog, Chelsea Facebooks, and Kurt usually plays the guitar until dinner time. One day, he took his guitar down to Redon Espic, the church we love that has the most resonant sound. He recorded some hauntingly beautiful music there.
Commissioned painting by Jenni Dickens
Kurt is chef, Chelsea and I assist with cutting vegetables and bread. Chelsea sets the table and I clean up afterward. Kurt is such a good cook that I am happy to do the dishes.
Kurt is chef, Chelsea and I assist with cutting vegetables and bread. Chelsea sets tahe table and I clean up afterward. Kurt is such a good cook that I am happy to do the dishes. , and slow paced living is all I could have hoped for. There are roosters crowing, chickens and cats wandering around the little town square, donkeys braying, sooo many birds singing and stunning country views all around. There are old stone houses, tile roofs, roses at every turn, small but full garden plots, bonjours here and bonsoirs there. Baran is quiet, save the birds, donkeys and roosters. Boyntanac is lovely and I am happy here.
