Europe – Page 2 – Destination NOW

Santiago de Compostela

I didn’t know until I got there that Galicia normally gets an abundance of rain, which is why it is such a lush, green region. I THOUGHT I was adequately prepared for wet weather, because I had packed two hooded jackets, fleece lined pants and silk long underwear, but I forgot the most important item: zapatos impermeables (waterproof shoes). Luckily, our hotel was across from a sports store that carried waterproof sketchers in my size. Prior to that purchase, however, (as I mentioned in an earlier post), we walked the last five kilometers of the Camino in a downpour. Let me tell ya, medieval cobblestone streets retain lots of water between those rocks!

I bought the umbrella in Bilbao when my luggage was lost.

I had the full Pilgrim experience; I was soaked and completely miserable. It was definitely NOT one would consider a spiritual feeling. By the time we got to the hotel, my feet were so wet, I had to dry them with a towel. On a positive note—the hotel had a heated towel bar in the bathroom, but sadly it only functioned between 7 and 11 pm. Still, that was long enough to dry out my sodden socks, clothes and backpack.

If someone forced me (at gunpoint) to choose between walking El Camino or running with the bulls, that day I would have taken my chances with the bulls. (I would have carefully chosen a stretch that allowed for a speedy exit.) But, then again, if I had done so, I would not have earned the right to sport one of these lovely pilgrim tattoos.

It’s hard to get lost on El Camino because the scallop shells point the way. They are EVERYWHERE. This sign also marks distance from the start of the French Way —4,790 kilometers—of which we did about 32 KM, or less than 10%

Before this trip, I had thought that there was ONE El Camino. NOW I know there are several: The French, the Portuguese, — we walked segments of both—the Via de la Plata (silver way), the Camino del Norte, the Primitive Way, to name a few. Regardless of which Camino you select, the destination is the same, the Cathedral of Saint James (Santiago).

Beneath that yellow umbrella is our local guide, Marian, regaling us with the legend of St James. WE were a shivering mass, huddled together under a nearby portico.

The cathedral from a different vantage point, a public park. Photo taken in between showers.

With all the wind and rain, I couldn’t take notes, so I’m operating strictly on memory. Here’s the part of the legend that I recall: a peasant (fisherman? shepherd? Some random guy?) in the first century (around 820 AD) saw a light shining down from the heavens several nights in a row, in the exact same spot. He recognized it as a message from God instructing him to dig, and when he did, he discovered the bones of a skeleton who had been beheaded. The church leaders made a rather large leap of faith and deduced that since St James had been beheaded, the skeleton must be that apostle. Over the ensuing centuries a cathedral was built and over time, the city of Santiago de Compostela grew around the cathedral.

Back then, pilgrims made the journey for religious reasons, to get a plenary indulgence (skip purgatory) or to avoid jail time. Yes, you read that right. Marian explained that people who committed minor crimes back then were given a choice…walk several hundred miles or go to jail.

Fast forward a few centuries—today’s visitors can view this silver box that contains what the faithful believe is St James bones,

and can admire the cathedral’s beautiful interior.

My cell phone’s zoom isn’t very powerful, so I’ll describe the central image of the main altar. It’s St. James, riding a horse and brandishing a sword, which wasn’t exactly how the apostles were described in the Bible.

Santiago’s old town is a maze of narrow cobblestone streets, filled with restaurants, bars and souvenir shops, so after our first day in Santiago, I’d seen enough of the city. I welcomed the opportunity to spend the day in Pontevedra and Combarro on an optional trip OAT offered.

Pontevedra, founded by the Romans, gave us a break from the crowded streets of Santiago. It is also the site of an unusual church, with a floor shaped like a scallop shell. Or so I was told.

I’ll be honest. The church was clearly round, unlike any I’ve ever seen before. But I wasn’t able to pick up any resemblance to a scallop shell in the interior. Take a look. Maybe you’ll have better luck.

Despite the intermittent showers, it was a delightful day.

Combarro reminded me of Southeastern Massachusetts. I recall watching Sandy, my sister, digging up clams and quahogs with her toes in Mattapoisett bay.

Here in Combarro, it’s a highly regulated business, with strictly enforced limits on what can be harvested.

Our day ended with a pleasant surprise—a procession outside our hotel. I was already in my jammies, but when I heard the drums, I dashed onto my balcony to take this photo.

Fortunately, our trip leader was on the street and sent us a video.

Is it just me or does that statue of Jesus make it look like he needs a foundational garment?

Next stop, Portugal for 5 days, then home.

Stops Along the Way

One of the many reasons I absolutely love traveling with OAT is the company finds experiences I would never have discovered on my own.

For example, en route to León we made two delightful stops. The first was at an archaeological lab in Ubide, where Michaela, an Australian osteoarcheologist, fascinated us with stories about her dig at the Roncesvalles burial pit.

Can you figure out which one is Michaela?
Hint: she doesn’t have gray hair.
She’s in the back row, directly behind me.

It was truly amazing how much can be learned from bones. So far, they have dug down to the level of the Napoleonic wars, where they found an older soldier, whose jacket was used as a shroud. His jacket’s button is shown in the top right of the following photo. Can you see the Spanish word “Rey” (king)?

Because of his skeleton’s position in the pit, his age, his wound and the button, the archaeologists deduced the bones belonged to a high ranking member of the Spanish army who died fighting against Napoleon.

When the archaeologists reach the bottom of the pit, legend has it they will find a horse, a horn and the exploded head of Roland, a member of Charlemagne’s army, who was immortalized in the “Song of Roland”.

After he sacked Pamplona, Charlemagne headed back to France, using the route we followed through Roncesvalles (now part of El Camino). As you can see, the path through the forest is very narrow, so the soldiers had to travel single file, making them easy targets for the more than slightly annoyed Saracens.

For those of you who never read “The Song of Roland” and have no desire to ever do so, here’s the scoop. When Roland sounded the horn to warn Charlemagne of the attack, he blew so hard, the legend claims that he literally blew his brains out.

Our lunch was at a charming tavern along our route. This trip IS turning me into a “day drinker”, but it hasn’t come to THIS, at least not yet.

Shahin, demonstrating how to shoot red wine directly into your mouth

We were able to walk off some of our lunch’s calories when we reached the next stretch of our “El Camino” experience. This time, we walked through the medieval village of Castrojeriz, population about 100.

Had I been on my own, I would have walked right by this church and missed its amazing multimedia shows, including the story of creation, which was projected onto the ceiling.

If we were REAL pilgrims, walking El Camino, it would have taken us anywhere from three to about seven days to walk from León to Santiago. Instead, the 3.5 hour bus ride took us a day, because of our multiple stops.

The first stop was in Astorga, to view the castle and cathedral designed by Gaudi.

Unfortunately, the building didn’t open until 10, so we weren’t able to go inside, but don’t you agree that the outside was pretty spectacular?

The entrance to the palace is on this side. Can you believe the number of windows?
On the left (barely visible) is the cathedral.

We weren’t able to linger because we didn’t want to be late for our visit to the beekeeper. To get to there, we strolled along the river for about a half a mile.

This very animated and entertaining young woman gave us the adult version of her presentation for school children.

Did you know that you should never put honey in the microwave because it destroys the beneficial enzymes? Or that you should never use a metal spoon to remove honey from its container— only use wood? (sorry, I don’t remember the reason).

After all that learning, we were ready for lunch in the village.

This building dates back to the 1750’s; it was the home of a merchant who conducted trade between the coast and León.

We were very fortunate to have such great weather during this area’s rainy season.

But our luck was about to end. For the last stretch of El Camino, we had an “authentic” pilgrim experience. We walked to the cathedral in a downpour.

That smile on my face was VERY short lived. I neglected to pack waterproof shoes, so by the time we finished our 5 kilometer walk and got to our hotel my shoes, socks and all 10 toes were soaking, sopping wet. Good thing I know how to say “I want to buy waterproof shoes” in Spanish!

Looks like the weather goddess is sending more of the same for our time in Santiago and Portugal. But at least with my new 100% waterproof Sketchers, my feet will be dry!

After the day we had, we decided we all needed at least one glass of wine — perhaps more. How lucky am I to be with such a great group of people!

Briefly, the rain stopped, allowing Shahin to take this group photo.

San Sebastián, Pamplona and Roncesvalles

If you think this post is covering a lot of ground, you’d be right. In just two days, we have visited three very different locations! The header of this post is a photo of the group as we started our walk on el Camino, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Before that…

En route to Pamplona, we stopped in the charming seaside town of San Sebastián.

Although the morning started out cloudy, before too long, the mists disappeared, just in time for us to thoroughly enjoy our walk along the beach.

The Miramar Palace, where former kings and queens spent their summers, overlooks this big, beautiful beach, and is now an events center for weddings and conferences.

We didn’t crash the wedding—just the photo shoot

I’ve seen elaborate sand sculptures, but this was the first time I saw sand “art” being created.

We had just enough time in San Sebastián for a delightful multi-course lunch at The Morgan Kompany, ( no, that’s not a typo, and yes, it is a restaurant). I barely had enough time to find a Christmas ornament for my sister. It’s one of my travel traditions— to find something Sue can hang on her tree from every country I visit.

We arrived in Pamplona late in the afternoon, checked in to the hotel, then walked through the nearby gardens. Notice how clean everything is?

Our stroll took us to the city wall, where we were able to enjoy this panoramic view.

Spaniards eat dinner around 9 or 10 PM, which according to my American digestive system is FAR too late.

We didn’t spend much time in Pamplona, because the next morning we traveled to Roncesvalles, where we started our El Camino experience. The mountains in the background of the header photo are the Pyrenees which form a natural border between France and Spain. In that photo, some of us are holding our El Camino passports aloft. We collected three stamps on this walk.

I didn’t have a walking pole, so I brought my umbrella, which helped me cross a muddy, slippery stream.

For our last afternoon in Pamplona, we met Gonzalo,

who has run with the bulls multiple times. He finally hung up his running shoes after his injuries resulted in a 10 day coma.

As we walked the half mile route from corral to bull ring, he filled us in on little known facts (at least to me) about the Festival of San Fermin. That’s the official name for the insane practice known as running with the bulls.

Six bulls per day do the run, accompanied by six steer ( castrated bulls)
The same six steer do the run for SEVEN consecutive days, but the six bulls change every day, because they get finished off when they reach the bull ring. This festival is the only time bull fights are held in Pamplona.
Before 7 AM, runners congregate in front of the statue of Saint Fermin (maybe he existed, maybe he didn’t) to sing a song three times at prescribed intervals before the bulls are released at 8 AM.
According to Gonzalo, runners need to arrive early to get a good spot for the run. If you are interested in viewing the madness, and hearing the song, here’s the link to the YouTube video. https://youtu.be/hDyQ0cUXk9g?si=rN20ZM45hAZ_CW_i
During the 7 day festival 42 bulls run. Each one costs between nine and fifteen THOUSAND Euros.
It takes the frightened bulls about two minutes to run the half mile route. No runner is fast enough to do the entire route, because once the bulls get in front of you, you’re done with the race.
If a runner gets gored or trampled all medical care is free. If you are NOT a runner and fall down because you’re drunk, you are responsible for the medical costs. And let me tell ya, there is a whole lot of drinking during those seven days!

This is as close as I will ever get to a bull run, because I KNOW what would happen!

Our last stop was at Hemingway’s favorite bar, where we enjoyed churros and chocolate.

Yes, it was a VERY full day!

Bilbao and Guernica

When I told my friend (and of course by now, I’ve forgotten which one) that I was going to Bilbao, she said that she’d visited years ago and that it was “very industrial”. Indeed it was. Shipbuilding and mining produced so much pollution that, according to our trip leader, when his mother hung laundry out to dry, it would become gray tinged. But what a difference a couple of decades and a natural disaster can make.

In August of 1983, two weeks of torrential rainfall produced flooding that devastated the area. Fortunately, the city’s leaders were able to turn that disaster into an opportunity. They determined rebuilding would focus on what would benefit the entire community. They decided that emphasizing CULTURE and infrastructure would be the key to Bilbao’s future.

And what a magnificent city it is now! In addition to the wonderful green spaces and playgrounds mentioned in an earlier post, Bilbao also has a huge sports stadium, a concert hall, a metro, tram —and my personal favorite —an incredible building known affectionately as “the living room”.

The pavement leading to the entrance has been designed to look like a carpet. Notice the street lights resemble table lamps and the benches look like living room furniture.

Originally built in 1909, the building was abandoned in the 1970’s and was almost demolished. Instead, it now is a “culture and leisure center” housing a gym, with a pool,

That’s the ceiling. If you’re on the ground floor, you can look up and watch people swim!

a library, an auditorium, a restaurant, showrooms, shops and in the basement (which we didn’t visit) a multiplex cinema.

Other notable Bilbao sights:

The Vizcaya Bridge was designed by one of Eiffel’s associates, Alberto Palacio

I was SO excited when our trip leader told us we’d be walking across this bridge. Elevators could take us to the top, so I was ready for the adventure. You can only imagine the depth of my disappointment when I realized he was just joking.

Instead we rode across on this “transporter. It dangled from wires attached to the structure that I thought we’d be strolling across. It skimmed just above the river. Later, we visited a cathedral atop a hill, from which we could view the mouth of the river, the Atlantic, and those cliffs.

This was not our only panoramic view. Later, we rode Bilbao’s funicular to a cafe where we enjoyed a glass of wine and this spectacular view.

The Guggenheim is to the left of the red bridge and in front of the skyscraper

I could have spent a whole lot more time in Bilbao, but the next morning, we walked through the city of Guernica, which was destroyed during World War II.

Our group in front of a replica of Picasso’s famous painting

The latest recruit, ready to fight for democracy in her own country

Fortunately, we had “free time” in the afternoon, so most of us spent it inside the Guggenheim. The architecture is absolutely spectacular!

This in no way captures the grandeur of the space or my favorite piece, “Shuttlecock”

I also loved art made from “reclaimed” objects, like these pieces of cars,

and flattened bottle caps with wrappers from liquor bottles

Here are some “close ups” of the piece so you can see the intricacies. It’s a WOW.

That evening, we broke up into three groups of five for a “home hosted” dinner.

Blanca and David were absolutely delightful hosts, and the dinner was spectacular. Although their English was at the level of my Spanish, we were able to communicate. I think the wine and the chocolate liqueur might have helped.

Later, I learned that Shahin put me in this group because he overheard me speaking to a tattooed Spanish biker that we met when we stopped to admire the Bay of Biscay. He figured that ONE of us needed to know a little Spanish. And in MY case, it is DAMN little, but it was enough.

We are on the bus now heading to Pamplona, with a stop in San Sebastián. It looks like our run of perfect weather is about to end.

Spain and Portugal Adventure Travel

The photo above shows the itinerary for this trip. Ignore the boxes. I’m not doing a pre or post trip this time.

The name of my favorite tour company is Overseas ADVENTURE Travel, and so far, it’s living up to its name! The tour promises participants will have “learning and discovery” experiences and so far I’ve had both.

I now know how to shop for ropa interior (underwear), how to translate sizes (take your US size and add 32, so a size 8 becomes size 40). I learned to never EVER buy “Brazilian” underwear, how to pay for a bus ticket to the airport (credit card, paid ON the bus) how to get thru the “Do Not Enter” doors at Bilbao airport ( wait for someone to leave and dash thru).

I came to this knowledge when I arrived in Bilbao and my AirTag told me my luggage was still in Munich.

Why, oh why did I check luggage? Well…

In the past, connections in parts of Europe, especially Germany, have been a tad unpleasant. I hate it when my plane parks far from the terminal. I have to walk down the rollaway stairs, carrying luggage, then get stuffed into a bus, which drives for 5 to 10 minutes to get to the terminal. On past occasions, the escalators weren’t working, so I had to carry my bags up several flights of stairs.

As a bonus, if I checked a bag, I could bring enough clothes so I wouldn’t have to do laundry. I would also have room for a bathing suit so I could enjoy any hot tubs I encounter along the way. Checked bag it was. Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to include my AirTag, just in case.

I’ll admit it. I was feeling a little smug while I was walking down 4 flights of stairs (with only a light backpack) to the crowded bus that would drive us to the plane that would take us to Bilbao. That feeling was QUITE short lived!

But at least I had the good sense to arrive a day before the tour started, because I spent HOURS of my first afternoon on the phone getting bounced between United ( Newark departure) and Lufthansa (Bilbao arrival). I’ll spare you the details, mainly because I don’t want to relive them, and also because they are bone crushingly boring.

But I WILL share this important tip: ALWAYS check your baggage receipt. Had I done so in Newark, I would have noticed that it said “Munich”, not Bilbao. So because I missed that important detail, it was determined that I was at fault and my bag would NOT be delivered to the hotel. Instead, I would have to go to the airport to fetch it.

And here’s another tip: ask to speak to a supervisor or manager as soon as you hear the same unhelpful info for the second time. I certainly wish I had.

Just about every situation has an upside, if you look hard enough. So I did. Here’s what I came up with: In addition to my various “learnings” described earlier, I might not otherwise have been out so early on a Sunday morning. I LOVED my early morning walk and I felt like such a big girl riding the bus all by myself.

Plus, I got to buy a Disney tee shirt that doubles as a nightgown. In case you don’t read backwards, that says “Ratatouille”. NO photos of Brazilian “ropa interior”. You’re welcome.

I was back early enough from my airport jaunt to join my new friends Pam, Barbara and Camille for a walk along the river.

Bilbao is a WONDERFUL city, with lots of green space, playgrounds, artworks and pedestrian walkways.

The playgrounds had unusual, imaginative structures

The many bridges are all beautiful in different ways.

The other three ladies wanted to explore churches and cathedrals, but since I’ve already exceeded my lifetime quota for such structures, I ambled on down to the Guggenheim. I had just enough time before our afternoon boat ride to explore the exterior of this amazing building.

Yes, that puppy is made entirely of different flowers

I took another photo of this sculpture from the boat. Which do you prefer?

I highly recommend the 1 hour boat ride for anyone who is interested in architecture. There is a QR code on the back of all seats on the boat. If you scan it with your phone, you have access to a narrative (in your chosen language), describing what you are viewing while you pass by on the boat ride.

The Guggenheim as seen from the boat, coming

There was a “girl from Ipanema” type of story about this crane. I THINK it went something like this: Everything would stop so that men could stare when a certain young girl came across the river 4x a day to operate the crane. They should have written a song…

There was a whole lot more to day 1, but I’ve done enough blogging for today.

Lyon

Mike and I visited Lyon and Paris in 1976. Although I vividly remember Paris: visiting the Louvre, Napoleon’s Tomb, Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower, I have absolutely NO memory of Lyon. There was never anything that kindled even a little spark of recognition.

Our hotel is a short block from the Rhône River, and within walking distance to the old city. People in Lyon use EVERY mode of transportation—bikes, unicycles, scooters, so you aren’t just dodging cars, buses and motorcycles when you cross the street.

It is difficult to get lost in Lyon, even for me. From the river banks, it is easy to find three important landmarks. The black domes are atop the Hotel Dieu. Now a luxury hotel, from the late 1400’s until 2010, that large building was a hospital. The white building to the right (in the distance) is the cathedral and barely visible, on the far right, behind the dome is a fake Eiffel Tower.

Now why would there be a second Eiffel Tower? Well, back in the day, tourists would visit the outskirts of Lyon, but never bothered to visit the city proper. So, knowing how poorly educated people are about geography, the town fathers rightfully guessed that people were aware that there was an Eiffel Tower in France, but had no idea in which city it was located. Voila! The tourists did indeed come into the city center to view the “imposter” tower. And a tourist trap was born. Clearly that was well before the advent of Ms Google.

The “tourist trap” needed a better photo, so here it is.

We took the funicular up to the cathedral. I know, yet ANOTHER church. But this one had some rather interesting features.

Check out the number of columns in this cathedral—and how ornately decorated they are, with different statues standing on the top. At the base of each pillar are birds, all slightly different. Some of them are looking straight at you, others have their beaks lifted at varying angles. Admit it—have you EVER seen birds on a church column? On the INSIDE of a church, that is. I sure hadn’t. Perhaps they symbolize the Holy Ghost?

Before we descended, we had to check out the incredible view. More later about the three white towers in the distance .

During our time in Lyon, we had two scheduled activities. The first, a food tour, brought us through the old city, and consisted of tasting stops at a chocolate shop, a bouchon and a pastry store. The food wasn’t wonderful ( fish soufflé at the bouchon, overly sweet pie at the pastry stop) but the guide was.

Our local guide explained that the hospital (now Hotel Dieu) was located at what was once the border to France. At that time, our hotel would have been in Germany! Why was a hospital located there? So that the medical team could examine all travelers before they were allowed to enter France.

The second tour which focused on the Resistance, took us to a different part of Lyon. This tour consisted of walking up and down narrow cobblestone streets to view plaques affixed to various buildings.

We also went thru passages the resistance workers took to evade the Gestapo. Now the buildings are covered with graffiti and the passageways are entrances to apartments and function as storage areas for trash cans. The walk was uninspiring, however once again, the guide was great. Although I was listening intently to her description of the mind sets of the French during World War II, I found myself more interested in the abundant street art than the plaques.

Take a look.

I initially thought someone stuffed a funky gorilla into a hole in this building, so of course I had to examine more closely. This very talented artist somehow achieved a three dimensional effect on a flat building wall. Wow.

When the guide asked if there were any questions, did I ask about Marshall Petain or the Vichy French? Hell no, I wanted to know what kind of business had paintings of “come thither” women in the windows.

The answer: a strip club. And now more street art.

Ms Google translated the artist’s intent, which was written in French below the artwork. Here’s the “ readers digest” version. The hearts, facing each other, have different motifs. Despite differences, the two hearts can find understanding and coexist.

Believe it or not, the above is a message to Macron. The words “straight into the wall” doesn’t mean anything to me, but apparently the French get it.

Lyon is a very walkable city so I did some solitary exploring. Remember those white towers visible from the Cathedral ? Lyon had hoped to be selected to host the Summer Olympics, so a swimming complex was built. I’m not sure what the function of the towers was because they seemed too high ( to me ) to be diving platforms. But then, I’ve never seen Olympic diving platforms other than on TV, so maybe they were.

Unfortunately, Lyon wasn’t chosen, but at least the residents ended up with a great place to cool off during the hot summer months.

In front of the towers is a skate park, where I watched a young man perform amazing feats on his bicycle.

The river banks were a favorite gathering spot for people AND swans.

Next stop, Paris, via the high speed train.

Paris

What can I say about Paris? Our time there was very short – just a day and a half. But I didn’t regret not staying longer. Instead, I figure at some future time, I’ll visit Paris on my own for several days, probably at a less popular time of the year, when the city isn’t crowded and the weather is less beautiful.

I really didn’t want to spend a gorgeous day wandering through a museum when I could be strolling down the Champs Elysees. And that’s exactly what I did on our only full day in Paris.

But first, let me tell you about our arrival.

Our train from Lyon pulled into the Paris station in time for a late lunch (or in my case, a glass of wine and appetizers, because I ate on the train). Some of us were lucky to have Laetitia, our very lovely tour guide, join us. Side note: despite being 4 months pregnant, Laetitia had boundless energy. I figure our group was perfect training for future class trips with her child, except a bunch of elementary school kids will probably be much easier to manage.

During the afternoon, we experienced two different modes of transportation: the metro system and a boat ride on the Seine.

Richard very graciously gave us a demonstration of what not to do on the metro. Unlike elevators, metro doors do NOT reopen when you stick your hand between them. Fortunately, a metro worker responded to our shouts and Richard was able to get on board, with his hand still attached to his body.

We were never able to figure out what Annie (Richard’s companion) did wrong trying to get thru the turnstile, but a French woman took pity on her, put her arm around Annie, and they went thru the turnstile together. So much for the stereotype of the unfriendly French!

Luckily the boat ride was very relaxing and mishap free.

These are just a few of the landmarks we saw on the boat ride.

For our last “dinner on our own, Nancy, Steve and I walked through the neighborhood in search of a suitable restaurant. There were lots but most were jammed with young adults smoking and drinking beer.

Photo of Steve and Nancy taken at the winery—NOT at dinner.

We finally settled on a delightful cafe, where we enjoyed a fabulous dinner, seated by a large open window. When Steve asked me if I knew where the hotel was, I responded with my usual answer: “I have no idea”. He then pointed to a HOTEL sign about three buildings away, thereby confirming I had the very worst sense of direction of anyone on the trip.

I was very grateful that Jean and Jim had a similar vision of the perfect last day in Paris, because if I didn’t have them guiding me, odds are I’d still be wandering around the city, looking for our hotel.

Our hotel wasn’t far from the Bastille metro stop, so that was our starting point for our Sunday adventure.

Because of the upcoming summer Olympics, several metro stops were blocked, so we rode to the Charles de Gaulle stop and backtracked to visit the Arc de Triomphe.

The Arc’s chaotic traffic circle is where I channeled my inner Grammy (my family knows what I mean) and convinced my travel companions to brave the oncoming traffic, rather than use the pedestrian tunnel.

We decided our RETURN trip would be less exciting, so smartened up and used the tunnel.

There were so many beautiful, whimsical sights along the way. Here are just a few:

These gold medallions swayed in the breeze and sparkled in the sun.

This sculpture reminded me of Seward Johnson’s work in New Jersey’s Grounds for Sculpture.

Of course, all the high end stores lined both sides of the Champs Elysees. I found the Vuitton store particularly clever, because because part of the building was designed to look like their signature bag.

We spent the day meandering aimlessly, stopping whenever we felt like it, taking detours to side streets, having lunch outside in a quiet, smoke free cafe. It was heavenly!

What Jean thought might be Pantheon, was actually the Church of Mary Magdalene. Even though the church bears her name, you’ll see that Napoleon got the top center spot in the artwork, and the most brilliant clothing. Everyone’s eye is naturally drawn to the red robe, right? Even Jesus’s clothes look like they could use a wash, compared to Napoleon’s. You might have to zoom in to get the full effect. I guess every age and culture has its Narcissists.

The prep work for the summer Olympics was visible everywhere, but we still managed to find some unsullied vistas.

By the time we reached the Louvre, we were ready to hop on the metro. There was wine to be shared, and the hotel was the perfect gathering spot!

*How many bottles of wine are on that table?*

It was sad to say goodbye to the wonderful friends I made on the trip, but it’s good to be home again.

Carcassonne

Sometimes you need to let the bliss sink in, and boy oh boy, am I ever blissful right now!

Yes, we’ve done a lot during our stay in Carcassonne, and I will eventually talk about that, but right now I am thoroughly enjoying the perfect weather and the after effects of a wonderful lunch in a nearby French vineyard/winery, Chateau Auzias.

After the vineyard tour, we were given 4 bottles of wine to taste, plus measuring equipment so that we could concoct our own blend using whatever combo of the 4 we desired. When departure time rolled around, we were presented with our blended wine to take home. I liked their Cabernet franc so much, I decided not to muck it up with Merlot or either of the two Syrah varietals, so I was glad that taking one of the vineyard’s regular products was an option.

As you can see from all the smiling faces, a good time was had by all. Especially me.

Okay, so that was the sum total of YESTERDAY’S blogging.

TODAY we are leaving the countryside, traveling by train to spend three days in Lyon, then finishing the trip in Paris. But before we move on to the big cities, let me tell you about our last medieval town.

Carcassonne’s most prominent feature is its huge castle, which dominates the landscape.

I was lucky enough to score a hotel room with a balcony, so I was treated to this spectacular view (of a portion) of the castle, which is beautifully illuminated at night. The plant you see in the following photo is the wonderfully scented jasper hanging from my balcony. ( my cell phone’s zoom can only do so much…)

The castle is so enormous, it was difficult to fit it all into one photo, until I visited Tribe restaurant during one of our “free” evenings. The food was every bit as great as its view. A bonus: the restaurant is owned by an Australian, so they have both French and English menus, AND it is really close to Les Chevaliers, our hotel.

Every castle should have a good story and this castle is no exception. Let me introduce you to Lady Carcas, whose statue at the main entrance greets visitors.

This Saracen princess is credited with saving the city from Charlemagne, who tried to starve the inhabitants into submission by surrounding it for five years. Although they were almost out of food, Princess Carcas decided to feed the remaining wheat to their last pig, then catapult the fattened animal over the city walls into the enemy camp. According to the legend, when Charlemagne saw the splattered remains of the well fed pig in the middle of his camp, he figured the Muslims still had plenty of food. What’s a warrior to do but pack up and head for home, which is exactly what he did. Lady Carcas was so excited by their departure, she ordered all the church bells to be rung. Upon hearing the bells, a soldier exclaimed “Carcas rings”, but he said it in French “Carcas sonne”, and that’s how the city got its name. Or so the legend claims.

Check out the fortress’s outer ramparts. This photo was taken from the inner, and higher, protective wall.

If the invaders are able to breach the first wall, they still have to make it over the moat and past the aptly named “kill hole” .

You can see why a siege was preferable to a full blown attack on what sure looks like an impenetrable fortress.

At the start of the tour, you are given an audio guide, then watch an introductory multi media show projected onto a wall.

The rooms inside the living quarters were transformed over the centuries by its various inhabitants: Romans, Saracens, and Christians.

We ended our visit with a walk around the ramparts, which was an excellent vantage point for viewing both the countryside and the interior of the fortress.

Our guide told us the fortress currently has 55 inhabitants. Although during our ramparts walk, we viewed several lovely residences, with gorgeous gardens, I certainly wouldn’t want to live in a place overrun by tourists. (Do they even have WiFi?)

Laetitia cautioned us that there was some up and down on uneven steps on the ramparts walk, but Nancy and I didn’t find it at all challenging.

In retrospect, I wish I had spent most of the day within the castle walls, but we had so much fun on our boat ride in Angers, we decided to give the afternoon Carcassonne canal ride a try. Big mistake. It was crowded, hot, and boring. The lack of photos from the boat ride tells you everything you need to know.

But that happens with travel. Sometimes you hit and sometimes you miss.

On to the cities…

Albi, On the Way to Carcassonne

There is no end to the surprises on this trip. Our itinerary indicated that we would stop for lunch along the way to Carcassonne, in Albi, another town I’d never known existed prior to this trip.

It was no surprise to find a cathedral in a small town, but what WAS jaw dropping was the artwork on the walls. Let me tell you, I’ve certainly seen more than my fair share of churches, chapels and cathedrals, but I have never, EVER seen artwork quite like this!

Every square inch of this massive building was covered with art. What caught MY eye were the geometric optical illusions. I tried to find out when they were painted, but the internet let me down.

If you’d like a better view of any of the photos, just click on it, but I’m telling you right now, you really DID have to be there. It was impossible to capture the grandeur of St Cecelia’s cathedral.

Cecelia, by the way, is depicted by the statue in the bottom photo. She was one of the virgin martyrs, forced to marry a pagan. Unlike the other virgin martyrs, she converted her husband by convincing him that an angel was standing over him, and would punish him if he tried to consummate the marriage. It isn’t clear who killed her, but it wasn’t her husband.

More surprises: the town created a Toulouse Lautrec museum out of what was once a fortress/ bishop’s residence/ inquisition site. That’s what happens when something in Europe is built in the 1200’s. It gets repurposed multiple times.

As with other fortresses, the site was originally chosen for its altitude and its proximity to water.

(My friend Jean requested more people photos, especially ones with me in them, so the above shot’s for her.)

Check out the sky if you want an explanation for my wardrobe: I was ready for ANYTHING: rain, sun, wind, pestilence…

Now take a look at what was under the wall I’m sitting on. Pretty magnificent, wouldn’t you say?

The museum doesn’t look that impressive from the outside. In fact, it looks a little strange, but I guess that’s to be expected for an 800+ year old building that has served so many different purposes.

But inside is quite a WOW.

I was particularly taken with this passageway built to link two buildings together. The ceiling creates another optical illusion when you stand at one end and look up. I got a little dizzy trying to make this shot come out straight!

Each section was covered with images of plants and animals.

This artwork was a bit faded, probably because the passage was lined with windows on both sides, but you get the idea.

I couldn’t help but wonder whether the victims of the inquisition marched through this hallway on their way to the torture chambers, or whether this hallway was part of the bishop’s commute between his residence and the courts, where he decided which punishment to mete out to the infidels, in God name, of course.

I’ve rambled on and on about the building, but haven’t talked much about the art inside. There’s a reason. I’ve seen better Toulouse Lautrec artwork in New York, Boston, and in art books, so the art display was a bit disappointing. I did find one that I particularly liked.

The museum contained OTHER artists’ work, including this one that I found rather captivating.

We only had less than an hour after lunch to check out the museum ( and revisit the cathedral, if so inclined), so I didn’t buy the audio guide, which means I have absolutely no idea where this painting was meant to represent. But I liked it, and that’s enough for me.

Looks like Carcassonne is going to get its OWN post, yet another surprise, at least to me. I never imagined I’d have so much to say about a lunch stop!

Here’s a sneak preview— the view from my Carcassonne hotel room’s balcony.

Sarlat

I loved Sarlat so much, I decided to skip Saturday’s optional trip to Rocamadouer so I could experience the market and spend an unstructured day in this delightful medieval town.

On our first day, we had a guided tour during which we learned Sarlat was founded in the 800’s by Benedictine monks who chose the location because of its water supply.

Back in those days the church was all powerful, so the abbot ruled the city until he was accidentally killed by one of the monks. He had the misfortune to be standing right behind the actual target, who ducked at exactly the right minute. Then this war happened, that war happened, the rich got richer…and here we are today, viewing a statue that looks a whole lot like Mick Jagger. (Actually that’s not exactly what the guide said, but it’s about all I remember.)

In addition to being market day, Saturday is also the day that you can take a glass elevator to the top of what was once a cathedral, but has since been repurposed into an indoor market.

We weren’t able to get out of the glass elevator, but that’s okay because we still had a panoramic view. We saw a whole lot of rooftops and the nearby church — yes another one, close by, because a town can never have too many churches.

One of our days in Sarlat was spent visiting the nearby Lascaux Caves. The original cave, which dates back more than 25,000 years, was closed off because carbon dioxide from tourists’ breath was endangering the cave paintings. Instead, replicas have been built, and Lascaux 4, the one we toured, has been faithfully reproduced BUT, it is even better, because of the added museum which has a multimedia show.

Our guide explained that these artists were thought to use sticks with horsehairs for paint brushes, moss as sponges, and tubes from which they spit pigment —a precursor of spray paint?

We had a delightful lunch in Uzerche, where Laetitia took this group photo.

We also visited Commarque Castle, which is slowly being restored by the son of the former mayor, who was killed when the son was a year old because of the mayor’s activities with the resistance.

Although much of the castle is in ruins, you can still climb up and visit the restored section, so of course, I did.

Time to move on. Next stop, Carcassone.

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