At the Bach Fest

The Eugene opening of the Oregon Bach Festival happened Saturday night.


On Friday in Portland and Saturday here, we sang Bach's b-minor Mass. It's a test of singing endurance. It's about 2 hours of melismas. That's when you sing about 20 notes quickly on one syllable or, as Steve likes to say, singing like an "unmanned fire hose."

This festival is wonderful. The 75-year-old German conductor who co-founded the event in 1970 still conducts us. He is a fount of knowledge about Bach, and always conducts from memory. He is also very funny. Always has jokes and funny faces ready for the choir.


He is the heart and soul of the Festival and-luckily-is in good health. I don't know what will happen here without him.

Yum!

Look what I made!

Olympic madness

Greetings from Eugene, Oregon--or as they like to say here "Track Town, USA."

Why is it called this?

The legendary University of Oregon track coach, Bill Bowerman. (The little I know of him was from a movie about his work with Steve Prefontaine.) Bowerman not only co-founded Nike in the 60s, he and his fortune helped the Oregon Bach Festival (OBF) evolve into an internationally recognized music festival. Anyway, the Olympic track and field trials start here today, as you can see below.


We don't get to attend any of the opening festivities, though, as we have a performance in Portland.

The Lost Post

After leaving Amsterdam, we stopped in Köln for a moment, to look at the mighty cathedral there. It's definitely the biggest of the bunch. But the weather was pretty crappy, so we didn't really get to enjoy the place very much. Here you can see the cathedral and my hand that was sheltering the lens from the driving rain.



So we get inside, and as we're both gobsmacked by the scale of the place, we note that there's a midday service happening way at the end of the church, well blocked off from the tourists. I saw the new stained glass window:



As we made our way to the back of the church, the service ended up front and the pipe organ belted out!! I got this video.



Then, we stopped at a café, had a quick bite, and went on to Frankfurt.

Back at home..

... ain't much happening. I'm working. It would be fair to say it's got me occupied. People were relatively gentle to me when I came back, though, so it hasn't been a stressful nightmare.

When I got home, the Suburban was making a scary engine noise, so yesterday I took it to the hot rod guy. It turned out to be just a loose torque converter, and it was a good time to get the transmission fluid changed... Driving 'er home last night felt pretty good.

I miss my girls. (Even the ones in the bicycle mafia. Hopefully she misses all the other pedestrians, too.)

Life is Good

Today I joined the mafia.



The Santa Barbara bicycle mafia.

A running joke on the honeymoon was the relentless bicycle riders who would send pedestrians running for their lives. Now I am one of them. And very happy. I'm not mean, just unskilled. I felt like I need a caution sign on me. I was able to ride the bike to Dr. Diemer's house for the interview, and I did my part to preserve the wonderful clean air in the great state of Galiforneeah.

You know, this was a pretty good day to be a doctoral student. Transcribing interviews is not so bad...

...when this is the view from the balcony of the hotel.

More beauty captured today.




Things are pretty nice here, but I do miss my husband...
Now, off to a Mexican dinner. Tomorrow afternoon, off to Oregon.

Better Day

A better day. Finished packing and went to breakfast. I would post a picture of the fabulous birthday pancakes, but it seems that I haven't completely learned how to post pics without Steve. The learning curve is steep.

I am on the way to the airport. I am armed with about 50 interview questions and have three recording devices. I should stop worrying.

Also, I apologize to everyone who wished me a cyber Happy Birthday yesterday. Seriously, thanks for thinking of me and taking the time to do it. My favorites were Cindy with the cyber cupcake (I forbade her to do more) and Kathleen with the cyber waffle. If I can engage in cyber complaining, seems like I ought to not be above well-intentioned cyber greetings.

My Uneventful Birthday

Wow. I just experienced the most uneventful birthday EVER. It's completely my fault, though, for being still mentally on a honeymoon, a lazy student, and a slow packer.

In any case, my wonderful husband cooked a marvelous stir-fry tonight. He also purchased yummy chocolate desserts. He was very calm as I flew in myriad directions today, cursing and sighing.

I've got to be honest. I'd almost rather get no birthday wishes than to get 20 million Facebook birthday greetings. I think that's about as cold and calculated as my car dealership or investment banker sending me a birthday card. Save the paper. Save the cyberspace.

I've got to be even more honest. I'm sick of presents. Ashamed to say that there are six unopened wedding gifts sitting on the living room floor. Still will be unopened when I get back in July. When I look at gifts, it just makes be think of two very depressing things: the unwritten thank you notes and the absence of a place to put all of them.

Could it be? I'm in my 35th year. I want to be in my 20s again (but still have Steve).

Back in the ATL

and back in our condo. It's really nice to have something different to wear!

VAT!

Forgot the form! Thanks, bye! Oh, we got screwed in the airport, too, got past security and they didn't have good bakeries there, so all we got was butter croissants and raisin pretzels. No "pain du chocolate"!

Elise is not a happy camper this morning.

VAT

Yeay! On our way to the airport.

I'm looking forward to getting our 19% value-added tax back. I'm hoping for $100.

See you soon.

Final Impressions

As we were on our way from Brugge to Brussels, Elise asks me what I think of the trip.


After we arrive in Amsterdam, I ask her the same.

Worn out.

Elise and I are coming to the end of this trip and we're both about ready for it to be over. It's been fantastic, not trading a minute of it, but we're worn out. Time to sit back and relax into a familiar routine for a while.

Got some great shots of Amsterdam to share, though. Last night, as Elise was writing her post, I used my tripod to get this shot of the upstairs:


A huge parking garage for bicycles. They own this place, man, I'm telling ya.


The Westerkerk, whose bells Anne Frank wrote about.


Today while we were out, a hotel boat pulled up across from us. Pretty cool! It will accomodate groups up to 20, and travels ALL of Holland via the canal network, not just Amsterdam.


Anyway, we'll be home soon.

Our boathouse

Here is a video of our humble Amsterdam abode. (Just so you know, the sewage does not go directly to the harbor. Steve made that up.)

We're off for our last day of fun in Amsterdam, the Daytona Beach of Europe. Tomorrow we head back to Germany to catch a Friday flight in Frankfurt.

I think we're gonna be ready to get home, but it's been fabulous.

Rockaby Baby

It is so wonderful to be lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the houseboat! It is so relaxing. Hard to tell you are on a boat until you're completely still. The living quarters are very spacious and it is nice to have a kitchen so we don't have to always eat out.

The first organized outing in Amsterdam was the Van Gogh Museum. It was excellent(!!!), however, I was looking forward to Starry Night (which wasn't here- it's in NYC) and the Bedroom (pictured, which was being restored here). This picture I took at the d'Orsay in Paris; its a copy that Van Gogh did of his own work while in the asylum.

Still, it was so awesome to see Van Gogh's skies, flowers, and amazing colors and mad brushstrokes up close. Here is Steve admiring the sunflowers.


Tonight we went on a boat ride with a few friends of friends who are visiting us from Ireland. The boat was electric, so it was very quiet. It was gorgeous to float down the canals and the Amstel River. Ours was the best boat ride ever because we had a doggie aboard named Olive. Jilly will be very jealous.

When you take into account the narrow streets, the cars, the bicyclers and all the other tourists, boating is the gezellige way to go in Amsterdam. (Gezellige is their word for cool, laid back, and social.) The boat driver even dropped us off at our houseboat!

Today we had a terrific Indonesian "rice table" lunch. It was so good and we were so hungry, we didn't take a picture until the plates were empty. We might try to find more Asian cuisine tomorrow. We whimped out on the Anne Frank house today because the line was so long. Hopefully we will brave it tomorrow, since we don't know if we'll be back to Amsterdam any time soon.

Some of the houses here are leaning forwards and sideways, but the Dutch engineering is quite amazing overall. The Dutch are also quite accepting, and many things you see here are completely shocking. Take the Red Light District, for instance. (Here is a blurry photo, because that's how unreal it seems...) I'm a long way from Yadkinville, North Carolina!

Amsterdam Snapshots

Our neighbors.


Tulips! or... Tulpen. Wait, is that 30 cents a tulip?


Across the canal, this thing looks cool at night.


Eva bought some tulips so I took some pictures of them.

3:45 PM Tuesday

An example of extreme relaxation.

The trains run pretty constantly, so that screechy noise you hear at the end happens all the time. That's a representative sample of canal traffic too.

We had an Indonesian Rice Table today. It was great. I'll let Elise tell about that one.

Our Spot

Click through for the max size...

A gorgeous day

We got up this morning and made breakfast, and then set off for the Van Gogh museum. It was a great museum -- large, but manageable, subject matter.. and Vincent's work is truly stunning. Over and over you'd say "wow." We separated from Cormac and Eva, and Elise and I went our own way.

After the museum, we went to an Argentinian steakhouse, and had a selection platter which we shared between us. We went back to the boat, hooked back up with Cormac and Eva, and then headed out to "Brouwerij d'IJ", a Belgian-style dutch brewery *IN* a windmill. Elise went in and asked the bar staff, "when you get off work, where do you go?" and they directed us straight to wonderful dinner nestled into the neighborhood.

After dinner, we went back to the boat, and Cormac and I headed into town to experience the Holland-Italy game that was going on. Holland won 3-0, and as we were walking through the neighborhood we would hear spontaneous cheers go up as everyone in town was paying attention to the game. It struck us that there were NO cars and practically no bicycles or pedestrians. The streets were deserted. Pretty pleasant, actually. We ended up at the Cafe de Sluyswacht, which is a building that appears to be sinking into the canal -- it's getting a tilt to it. When you're standing inside to buy a beer, it feels funny.

Cormac ordered an orange juice and the guy put almost a dozen oranges through a juice machine right in front of us, making the freshest orange juice you could possibly imagine. It was really cool.

Brugge Swans

According to my Brugge guidebook: "In 1488, rebel citizens of Bruges holding the noble archduke Maximilian of Austria prisoner, condemned to death his servant Pieter Lanchais. The archduke consented to meet the rebel demands, but, in reprisal for the death of his faithful servant condemned the citizens of Bruges to take care of the swans until the end of time. White swans belong to the city and are marked on the beak with the capital letter B and the date of birth."

This legend may or may not be true! The Belgians also claimed that frites are not fattening and chocolate is good for your skin and teeth. Hmmmm...

Belgium pictures

So last Sunday, we stopped in Brussels on the way to Bruges. We didn't have mussels. (Apparently they are not in season here.) However, we did enjoy the central town square. Rick Steves claims that it is the grandest of Europe, and it was pretty nice. Check out this building in the square. Look closely to see the row of statues.


I wasn't surprised to see a lot of Eiffel tower knick-nacks in Paris, however I was floored to see the extent to which Brussels is cashing in on their little peeing boy fountain. I was tempted to buy a corkscrew, but didn't.


On Friday, Steve and I took a boat ride through the Brugge canals. It was an overcast day, but you can still see how picturesque and Medieval the city looks. Check out the pointy rooftops. They are everywhere!!!


Then we toured the Half Moon Brewery in Brugge. Even though there used to be lots of breweries in this city, this is the only active one now. Here is a pic from their rooftop.


Here is a statue carved by Michelangelo in a church in Brugge. Apparently one of the very few not in Italy today. I'll have to tell you though, not being able to get up close to it (like I did the Van Gogh's and Monet's at the d'Orsay in Paris) was a let down.


Something happened a few hundred years ago that caused Brugge to be a haven for swans. I have a great swan video that I'll get Steve to upload soon. I also have a video of Steve's highlights from the trip that we'll post soon.

It's finally sunny weather and we have settled into our houseboat in Amsterdam! The last chapter of this trip should be a great one.

Dear Jilly, from Daddy Steve

Dear Jilly...

I haven't written to you, but that's not because I'm not thinking of you. It's really because I know you don't surf the internet and you typically only read "blog posts" that other doggies have blogged on trees. But, I figure I'll play along.

You would have flipped out over Berlin because doggies can go without leashes, and there is sausage everywhere.
You would have liked Prague pretty well because of all the neat smells.
You would have loved Baden-Baden because of the big apartment and the bacon, which had been missing until then.
You would have loved Paris because apparently doggies are allowed to poop wherever they like.
You would have loved Brugge for the flemish stew, and frites, and the swans.

You wouldn't like Amsterdam I think, though, because the house keeps rocking back and forth. And getting out to the house means you have to cross a little bridge over some really dirty water.

But SOON, Jilly, SOON we will be back to see you, to give you choco-treats (safe for doggies) and take you on walks of your very own. You can ride in the flamejobby suburban and squeal from the balcony when momma comes home.

I can't wait. This has been fun but we definitely miss you.

Daddy Steve

In Amsterdam

We have a boat on the Prins Hendrikkade, which is the main waterfront street. Our friends Cormac and Eva are flying in from Ireland this evening to share it with us -- there's a bedroom at either end of the boat. The boat has internet so we'll be able to post pictures again.

My favorites from the Bruges round:

The entry sign for the Frietmuseum.


Elise enjoying a "Brugse Zot" in front of the brewery's fireplace. This is the brewery where we took the tour.


A view from the small canal tour we took. Bruges has NOTHING on Amsterdam!


Jilly's souvenir from the "Choco-Story" museum. (250g!)


The beer store where Erik will lose his brain.


The view out the front door of our hotel.


Someone was REALLY loving the windmills!

Bye, Bye Bruges

We awoke to another day of rain. Steve hypothesized that it was raining because Belgium is not a German-speaking country. True, we did have beautiful weather in Germany and Austria. When he reminds me that we are about the same latitude as Canada, the cool rainy weather makes perfect sense.

Still, we donned our ponchos and headed to the east part of town. Saw the four windmills left over from the early times of milling grain. Very cool. We walked along the canal and saw a guy driving a very well-kept 60s red Ford Mustang. We couldn't help but smile and throw up horns and the "hang loose" sign. He enjoyed our international auto admiration. I suggested that he should have brought the flame-job Suburban here. We laughed, as the streets are barely wide enough for 3 bicycles.

Man, can these people smoke. Everybody smokes!!! Apparently they haven't gotten the memo that it's bad for you. In Berlin, a law is going into effect in July that you can't smoke in restaurants. I bet similar things will happen elsewhere in central Europe. Big smokers in Paris, too. Steve pointed out that its strange to see people smoking while riding a bicycle, since in the US most people ride for their health.

I did some Belgian drug store shopping. This is always fun, to try to figure out what is soap and what is lotion. Steve remembers fondly the time in Amsterdam where, for a stuffed nose, he bought "retard capsules."

So are fries French or Belgian? We still are unsure. Is onion soup with bread and cheese French or Flemish? Some people here claim it. These countries still seem to be at war over some things.

Might not post again, as our houseboat in Amsterdam is unlikely to have internet. In any case, we'll see most of you soon!

Jilly Letter IV

My dearest Jilly,

I thought of you several times today. You would love being in Brugge and living on the Central Square. There are lots of exciting sights and smells. Pretty much you would want to hang out beside the fry stand next to the belfry or maybe bother folks to lick their mussel shells.

Today we went to a park where the ducks and swans live. You would have been curious and wanted to smell them, but I am pretty sure that they would have sent you running, tail tucked and all.

Although your Daddy Steve hasn't written you, he does miss you. Today at the end of the chocolate museum, he bought you chocolate training bones! Jilly, these are not just any chocolates, they are Belgian chocolates. He did say that you would have to share with Sammy, as well as Tutti and Farley. However, we do not harbor any hope that you will be trained. Your bad habits are mostly my fault, and are most likely here to stay.

Still, you are missed.

Love,
Momma

The last of Brugge

We'll be moving on to Amsterdam in the morning. It's been a nice couple days... we went to the brewery, to the chocolate museum, and besides that have just been availing ourselves of the fine chocolates and beers. We *DID* buy a few glasses, and are trying to figure out how to send them home safely. As Elise mentioned, my friend Erik would just die here with all the wonderful beers and beer culture.

The brewery tour was fun.. we walked into a room where they had a grain mill and a malt hopper, and I tapped it and said "mmm... malt." The tour guide turned to me and said "Aha! A brewer!" and my secret was out. Oh well, still made the tour a lot of fun. Much more informative than the Sam Adams tour in Boston. I even educated her that the "stirring stick" was actually referred to as a mash paddle.

The chocolate museum was cool too, because at the end the guy giving the demonstration told us which choco-shop in Brugge was the best. So, of course, we went there today! Woot!

Elise has another letter to Jilly coming. I better get off the computer before she cries.

Flemish thoughts

Yesterday on the front of the French and Belgium newspapers was Obama. Amidst all the scrambled vowels and consonants, it was fairly easy to tell that Hillary had dropped from the race. Flemish seems REALLY crazy. I realize that it is probably older than French or German, but still it seems like a language that a couple of guys made up over beers. Sadly, we haven't made much attempt to learn commonly-used Flemish phrases because most people speak English. The real trouble happens at restaurants when the menu is in French and Flemish (neither of which we know), we don't bother to have them translate, and Steve accidentally orders a pepper sandwich. In a couple of days, we'll be on to another language.

Brugge is very, very lovely. It is sort of like a baby Prague. We have a room in a place right on the Central Square across from the big bell tower. It rings out songs every 20 minutes. The first one is Classical, but I don't know it. Next is Greensleeves. Then Ode to Joy. It is quite charming, even in the middle of a nap. We've been taking it easy, but I do want to walk up the few hundred steps tomorrow to watch it ring.

Neither of us had clean underwear, so we're doing laundry. Actually, I'm across the street at a hostel using their 1-euro-per-day Wi-Fi. Lots of smoky youngsters are coming and going. I wonder if they think I look like one of them, or I'm past my prime. At age 33, this year has marked my first time out of the country. I've wanted to come since I was an undergrad at UNC. I applied for an exchange program in Italy, but it didn't work out. I got my first passport when I moved to Atlanta (2003) and almost did a summer program in Austria on Emory's dime, but decided to go to the Oregon Bach Festival instead. It was a good move, ultimately. This trip with my wonderfully generous new husband has been a dream come true. I serious doubt that we'll take one of this length and magnitude again.

At different points along the way, we've wanted to share parts of it with people we know. Bryan would have loved the fry museum today, and Kevy would have loved the pinball machine at the cafe in Paris. Jeremy is the only friend I have that would have truly appreciated Monteverdi's Vespers at Notre Dame, and my grandmother Eskew would have been thrilled with the Salzburg Sound of Music tour. Steve is keeping beer coupons for Erik and I'm buying up floaty pens left and right for Cindy. This is just the beginning. I realize how fortunate I am to be in this situation at this time. It is quite the dream come true... made complete by clean underwear tomorrow.

Brussels and Bruges

Again, with the funky wi-fi. From time to time we end up in lodging where the Internet connectivity is bad or nonexistent. Here it appears to be the latter. No big deal.

So, last I posted, we were arriving in Brussels, or Bruxelles. We took the tram into the Grand Place, which is the central market square. There we found a place and I ordered a beer sampler and a "Sandwich Paon", while Elise ordered the plate of the day. When the food came, my sandwich was rife with peppers, which I don't like. Elise offered to swap plates with me and save me from my own adventurousness.

After that we went over to the "Manneken Pis", the famous statue of the little boy urinating. Elise really wanted to do this, and I was being a total stick in the mud about it, but I went anyway. As much as there were Eiffel Tower trinkets in Paris, there were tons of little pissing boy trinkets, including one that made me laugh -- a little boy sporting a wine corkscrew.

As we were walking back to the train we stopped at a chocolatier and had the most amazing little truffles. Mmmm.. Swiss chocolate is great. French chocolate is also great. But the Belgians crush 'em both.

We got to Bruges and our hotel was inside a restaurant on the main market square, the "Café Central". While Elise settled into a nap, I ordered a Leffe Blond, and struck up a conversation with Nikolai, the bartender. He set me up with a Karmeliet Tripel, which was just fantastic. Strong, but still quite well balanced and delicious. It knocked me right out -- I went up and laid next to Elise for a nap of my own.

When I woke, Elise was just returning from her own Karmeliet. We went to a restaurant named Arthie's, on Nikolai's recommendation, and had the Flemish Stew, also on Nikolai's recommendation. It was fantastic! Like the beer stew my mother used to make. Elise had a dish that was "fish, fish, prawns and cheese." By this time, we were so full of beer and food that we skipped dessert entirely, and went straight to bed.

Well, I went straight to bed. Elise couldn't sleep, and so stayed awake a while watching a movie. She slipped me a little bit of a sleeping pill, and so I slept like a lamb and woke up this morning feeling awesome.

We had breakfast at the hotel café, and then went to the "Fritemuseum", a museum dedicated to potatoes in general, and frites (what we erroneously call "french fries") in particular. At first we were concerned that this would be a cheesy little museum, but in the end it was pretty informative and cool. And they had "curry ketchup" sauce at the end for me to dip my frites in!! It was just like the best currywurst sauce. Yum.

After a short walk, Elise went back for a nap, and I stepped out for some lunch. I had beer quiche with, of course, a beer. Having returned, Elise has stepped out, so I'm here in the café, having another Karmeliet.

Belgium certainly appears to be a place for sensual pleasures.

Interesting Parisian Professions

There are ladies who wander around near tourist sites (train stations, the tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame etc.) in eastern european garb: Shawl, dress, head-wrap and so on. They ask everyone who looks touristy, "Escuse me, do joo speek eenglish?" If you respond positively, they hand you a card talking about how they're down on their luck, need a couple bucks for their kid's medication, etc. This morning we saw a group of them smiling and chatting happily as they approached the Gare du Nord with sad note cards in hand, off to a day's work!

There are also men who appear to be african or middle-eastern who wander around the Eiffel tower primarily, selling tower tchotchkes, keychains, blinky-towers, and other stuff. They're harmless, of course, but damn there's a lot of 'em. They carry the towers on a large ring that jingles as they walk. During our first tower stroll, we were approached by at least 20 of them. The other night at our magnificent dinner, suddenly a dozen or more of them went running by - jingle jingle jingle jingle jingle jingle jingle... jingle jingle ... jingle.... followed by a French cop. It caused Steve to exclaim "Cool! Dinner AND a show!" It was hysterical. We've been laughing about it ever since. Some of them should think about expanding their business to include little keychains of glass pyramids at the Louvre, arcs at Du Triomphe, or skulls 'n bones at the catacombs.

People have been alerting us to theft scams for weeks now. My uncle Roger had his wallet stolen in Prague while trying to help someone open a subway door. My mom insisted that I wear a money belt (which I have not) and Steve, of course, refused as well. (Wearing his shirt tails out to cover his pockets has probably been a deterrent to thieves.) I carry my purse over my neck and shoulder, so nobody could slip it off my arm easily. (Although if they took it, they would be very disappointed; my debit card hasn't worked since Prague.) Anyway, we have been on the alert--especially on subways--against pickpockets and scams. So yesterday, we had just gotten off the metro and a woman was running to get on. The doors started to close and she fell between the platform and the car. I thought instantly "A scam! Protect your goods!" as this woman was about to get her right leg sawed off by the Paris metro! When I finally realized no one else was around and this woman was as old and helpless as my mom (sorry, mom), I helped her up. Steve, hands safely in his pockets, watched my back. In the end the woman's leg and ego were bruised, but otherwise, all was well. The train operator opened the doors, and the woman limped on her way.

Ah, Paris! Never a dull moment...

So here we are on a very cushy train to Bruxelles, where the wifi is free and they had meal and drink service akin to a U.S. airline (well, before they started getting so cheapo). Funny how the wifi on the train is so much higher quality than the wifi in the hotel.

By the way, Daric, we wrote this one together just to mess with you...
:)

Au revoir, Paris!

Steve is a quick study with the French. He was worried about being out of his comfort zone with language. After I bought us a couple of phrase books, he was surpassing me with conversing with waiters (by the time he lost his book 3 hours later). I'm hope some American found his book and used it. No wonder the French act short with tourists. Not enough people TRY to speak the language. And everybody is too demanding and in a hurry. Overall, we found the French people to be very nice and accomodating.

I'm glad we came to Paris. I'm glad to have had a leisurely dinner in front of the Eiffel with great wine, been to a fabulous early music concert at Notre Dame, and seen masterworks at two museums. However, Steve and I agreed that this is one we wouldn't repeat. There are simply too many people in Paris. Too many Amuhruhcans. When we come back to France (with our French-speaking friends Olivia and Arnaud), a trip to the Bordeaux region will be more our speed.

Well, on to Brussels for lunch. We'll find our way to Bruges by this evening. Steve is excited about the beer, and I, the fries. And, of course, the chocolates. I simply love the train rides getting to our destinations. These tickets were a most awesome and generous gift from Steve's parents. (Thank you, Bernie and Sid!)

Second day of Paris

Last night we went to "Le Cafe de l'homme" which is in the Trocadero, just across the Seine from the Eiffel Tower. It offered a stunning, uninterrupted view of the tower and a very romantic setting (as you'd expect.) The food was good, the wine was unbelievable (Chateau Laroque 2001 Bordeaux) and the service was excellent. Dinner lasted 3.5 hours and we got to see the Eiffel twinkle twice. Perhaps we'll upload a movie of that at some point (with free wifi, you get what you pay for.)



Then, in the morning we went to the Musee d'Orsay, to again fight the crowds to look at the works of Van Gogh, Gaugin, Monet, etc. I wish I had more of an art education to understand and appreciate a lot of these paintings. My reaction is essentially limited to "I like some things, I don't like others, and I can't articulate why." I did enjoy watching the students working on copies of the masterpieces.



After le Musee, we went to the Catacombes of Paris. This place was dead. I mean, people were dying to get in. Okay okay. It was pretty cool, being a cellar and all. Alright, I'll stop.



Before the catacombes, we ate, and for dessert had something akin to "Death By Chocolate." After the catacombes, we ate ribs. Look, we made our own catacombes!



Yes, I'm incorrigible. I admit it. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Elise suggested that I should open a rib shack right at the exit to the catacombes. Call it "Dem Bones." Nice idea but even the French would balk at that one.

Then, in the evening, we went to the Cathedral of Notre Dame to see Monteverdi's Vespers. I don't know if it's possible to find music that is more out of my comfort zone. It was either Gregorian chant, or Lauryn Hill (with the single warbly note that just goes all over the place like an un-manned fire hose.) Elise got some professional appreciation out of it, but I couldn't wait to escape. We went to a late night café and ate and drank immediately thereafter.

The internet access keeps getting slower here. I bet some guest's kid is playing WoW.

The Zoouvre

See all those people? They're looking at a 2' x 3' picture. The Mona Lisa.

The Louvre was a ZOO. Had to be a hundred thousand people there, and most of them wanted to see the Mona Lisa. It was crazy. Elise and I went in, looked at the painting, and made a hasty exit. Along the way I did see a really cool picture of a guy flying a Jesus Kite:



After we went to the Louvre, we went to the top of the Arc de Triomphe, which was pretty cool. We then went over to the Notre Dame and walked through it. I lit a prayer candle for my mother's mother, who's been ill lately. I hope she gets some strength from the notion that there's a prayer candle at Notre Dame for her.



Then, we took the Metro home. Tonight we have reservations for dinner at a place just across the Seine from the Eiffel tower, and it's apparently one hell of a view.

Arrivé!

Paris might be nice, but traveling to Paris sucks.

We took six trains:

- Wengen to Lauterbrunnen, where we had a nice breakfast at a bakery (Schoko-croissants ROCK!)

- Lauterbrunnen to Interlaken,

- Interlaken to Bern,

- Bern to Geneva, where we tried to sort out our TGV travel and were told there was nothing. We ended up paying FULL FARE for a ticket from Lyon to Paris. Lake Geneva looks pretty awesome, though.

- Geneva to Lyon, where Elise asked the French customs guy if she could get a stamp (he politely chuckled and said no.)

- Lyon to Paris, on the TGV which was actually quite nice.

After arriving in Paris, we took two Metro trains -- M1 and M8 -- to our hotel. We then wandered around a bit in the rain trying to find the hotel. We eventually found it, where we were blessed with a tiny, tiny bed and free Wifi. Fair trade, I figure. Elise needs a lot of bed so she may not consider it quite as fair a trade.

Anyway, looking forward to telling you about Paris.

Swiss report

We just arrived in Paris. But first, a Swiss report:

1) Switzerland is lovely. With the possible exception of seeing Mount St. Helens from a helicopter last summer, the Alps are the most naturally beautiful sight I've seen in my life.

2) Switzerland is expensive. REALLY expensive. We're talking $5 cups of coffee and $8 sausages. Paris will seem like a deal!

3) Rösti is good. REALLY good. We had fondue, too, but the rösti (a dish of hash-browned potatoes and onions with various other ingredients like bacon and truffle oil) was my favorite. Of course, there are also the chocolates and wonderful breads. If I look pregnant when I return home, it's merely a bread, chocolate, and cheese baby.

Merci, danke, prego and thanks for continuing to read our blog. We miss all of you but we're having a great time.