Photographs and Memories (with a nod to Jim Croce)

For photos from the Hawai'i trip, please visit here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/11609140@N03/sets/72157611983868105/

For photos from Paris and Etrepy, France, please visit here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/11609140@N03/sets/72157612037542962/


More travelogues from the Hawai'i trip are on the horizon! Happy reading!

Le Tour Eiffel on a Very Windy Day

Forty-four years ago, I visited the Eiffel Tower with my parents. I was six years old. Even though we only got to the second level that day, I felt on top of the world. Forty-four years later, I am back again. Today, I will ascend to a higher level and feel the Parisian wind on my face and look out on this most romantic city.

As I stood in line for my ticket, I was surrounded by many people speaking many different languages; Spanish, African, German, Dutch, Italian, Indian. My ticket allowed me to stop on all three levels; level 1 had a tourist shop, a restaurant, and a special post office where you could get cards stamped with "Paris Eiffel Tower"; the second floor had more shops (food and tourist), the very expensive and hard to get into Jules Verne Restaurant; and the third floor had the most amazing views (though very windy), and some historical information about the tower.

The Eiffel Tower was built in 1889 for the Paris Exposition and designed by French structural engineer Alexandre Gustave Eiffel (b. Dec. 15, 1832, d. Dec. 28, 1923). Quite a few Parisians at the time thought the tower was a travesty and signed a petition to stop its construction. Luckily, many Parisians did like it and it stayed. After later failed attempts to have it taken down, it has now become on of the most important symbols of Paris.

At the top level, I left the elevator and walked to the edge and looked out at the city. I could see so many landmarks from there: the Notre Dame, the Sacre Couer up and away on its hill in Montmartre, the Arc de Triomphe, the radical new Musée du quai Branly, and the Seine and its bevy of tourboats and barges.

As I walked around the top, the power of the wind increased; on the far side, the wind was so strong that it surprised a man and picked the hat off his head and pushed it through the protective grillwork and sent it sailing out over the city. Wonder where it is now?

As I made my way back down to the lower levels, I stopped to get postcards from one shop and picked up some Eiffel Tower statues at another. I realized I was hungry and walked back the same way I had come; ended up at a small café called "Oh!…Pouvrier."The server was not very friendly, but I was able to order and enjoyed my meal. An older French woman came in and was seated two small tables away and we began chatting. I apologized for my minimal French, but she said she was happy to practice her English. We spoke about the food and Parisian life and then a little about the economy. She was helpful when I said I wanted to take my leftovers with me; seems this is an unusual request in France and the servers were not willing to help me. So, I sat a little longer, ate slowly and finished most of the food. I also learned afterwards that the service is already included in the bill; I'm sure the server was surprised by the extra tip because she never cracked a smile for me.

On the way back to the apartment around 4pm. Decided to stop by the cheese shop where I found some beautiful brie and a goat cheese, the bread shop for my baguette and two croissants, the butcher's for a roasted chicken (without feathers!!!!), and the vegetable and fruit stand so that I could make myself a nice dinner in the evening.I went home and feasted, already planning the next day's walking tour around Montparnasse.

Day/Night One of Trip to Paris

3pm Monday, October 13
Dulles Airport (from my journal)

Here I sit at Dulles Airport, waiting for my flight to Paris. It is finally sinking in that I'm really doing this; I'm really going back to visit a place I have not seen since the early '60s.

I feel like crying. I feel like jumping up and down with excitement. My heart is pounding. On the ride here from Spotsylvania, Gary decided to take Route 3 as an alternate to the highway. By the time we reached the Orange County line, I was in the throes of a serious asthma attack. I thought I was fine emotionally, but my body was reacting to the stress I must have been feeling anyway.

Water and several doses of inhaler later, I was fine and breathing normally again. We took another shortcut (past farms and vineyards), so the drive ended up being much shorter than expected and I was at the airport much earlier than I needed to be. I was dropped at the door and then found myself totally on my own.

Elliott had stayed at a friend's house last night, so he sent me off with big hugs and lots of kisses all over my face.

Got through the check-in/baggage desk quickly, as well as the security check (a piece of cake), so I stopped in at a café to get a bite to eat, relax, and do some reading to pass the time.

Still had an hour-and-half to wait, but I've always said that I'd rather wait than be late, which has happened only once, on a flight to Mexico.

Now I'm at the boarding area and I just got a text message from a new friend of mine, "Imagine the Possibilities!" I have this person to thank for that positive affirmation which I will keep uppermost in my mind on this trip and those I plan on taking in the future.

I love sitting here watching the people and listening to the different languages. Speaking of people watching: I was taking an escalator up to this floor and noticed a young woman chatting on her cell phone. She stepped on the escalator a few steps before me. I also noticed she was wearing a very short skirt. As she walked up the escalator farther away from me, more and more of what was under the skirt was showing. All I can say about that is that I am thankful she chose to wear underwear today.

A young French woman is sitting across from me chatting on the phone. French is one of the world's most beautiful languages. It is silky. Fluid. Playful. Rich.

Another friend just texted me with: "Bon vacance, mon cherie." Going to take a break now to freshen up a bit before the flight.

A little while later: We've been in the air for 20 minutes. I'm all plugged into the stereo system listening to relaxation music. We're already flying over water; the last time I flew over these waters was in 1974, when my mother and my sisters and I traveled to Germany and stayed for the whole month of June. The primary purpose of that trip was to find out whether my mother would be able to donate a kidney to her ailing sister, Inge. (Just realized that one of the stewardesses on this flight looks very much like my friend Silvia—amazing!)

Anyway, in Germany, the medical tests all came back negative and we came home saddened that my mother's wish to help her sister could not be fulfilled.

Thirty-four years since that flight and 44 years since I've been in France. What will it be like to see Paris through adult eyes? My memories of that city and of Etrepy are colored by my youth and inexperience of the time. I still remember the house where we lived and the courtyard behind the house where a magnificent cherry tree grew—I could never get enough of that sweet fruit.

Had some wine with dinner and am feeling considerably more relaxed, albeit a little flushed. The married couple next to me is from South Africa; they were in the area to attend their grandson's marriage in Annapolis.

Going to get a little rest now; the crew asked us to close the window shades, most likely to help stimulate sleep. Maybe we'll be in France when I wake up.

Coming Back

Coming back to real life after a fabulous trip abroad can be very hard, notwithstanding jet lag and having to catch yourself to keep from saying "merci" to everyone.

Even harder is when something tragic happens to someone you care about while you were out of the country. My good friend, Jim B., suffered a serious stroke four days before I arrived home. For years, Jim has been a stable presence at my favorite coffee shop, Hyperion Espresso (on the corner of William and Princess Anne Streets in Fredericksburg). Jim, in his hat, sitting outside smoking, always with several friends around enjoying lively early-morning political conversations or just some of Jim's bad jokes. I could tell the time by the sighting of that hat as I drove by on my way to work assignments.

Jim is a staunch supporter of local musicians and artists and has developed a website and mailing list to keep everyone apprised of certain local musicians' gigs, new CDs, artists' shows, and other useful information. He does this gratis because he has a generous spirit. From day one, he has also been a huge supporter of me and my house concert production company; early on, he and I would talk for hours about names, marketing, creating a web presence, and how to get the best musicians interested in what I'm doing. We would talk so much we'd end up slap-happy and silly, throwing out the dumbest names we could think of . . . just because.

Jim was also a good ear for my personal trials over the past few years; he was extremely non-judgemental and helped me realize that one of the reasons I fell for a con man (he knew him also) is that I am the type of person who has faith in people, no matter what. He bolstered me when I was down and would tell me over and over that I was a very good person with a big heart and not to feel any less about myself because of what happened. A week before I left for France, my family and I went for a daysail with Jim and another friend, Barry. It was a wonderful day, full of sunshine, good wind, and tons of laughter emanting from the cockpit. Near the end of the day, Jim took the helm; he stayed there for a good portion of the sail home.

After visiting Jim when I returned home, I realized he has a long uphill journey ahead of him. His doctors say he should get back to 90 percent. That's a great prognosis. Even though I couldn't understand everything he said when he spoke, I could tell that his sense of humor is still very much intact. When Gary called me with the news, he said that Jim told him that the only way I could visit him was if I came bearing a good French wine (is there any BAD French wine?). Needless to say, after several slowdowns and delays at the airport, I was running with seconds to spare to the wine shop before leaving DeGaulle.

To my dear friend Jim, I wish a speedy recovery. That fine French wine is in my wine cabinet, waiting until he can savor it and hold that glass again with his strong left hand while taking the helm with his right. Bonne chance, mon ami!

Adieu for Now (October 2008)

originally written on Sunday, October 12, 2008

This is the last BLOG I will post for at least two weeks; I have decided not to take my laptop to Paris. It will be a bit strange to not know at a moment's notice what everyone is doing or says they're doing. Or to get an electronic invite to a great night of music or an interesting play.

I am hoping that the internet cafes are way too expensive for me to get my fix while I'm gone, too. I need to step away from the screen and live fully.

That said, I get so much out of my various BLOGs' comments and those who do the commenting. The amazing support I've received during my learning time has made the transition to beautiful time just superb.

It's been a great month since I decided to make this trip; things that were hanging on a precipice have finally disappeared over the edge, never to raise their ugly heads again. I had been holding onto a lot of negativity in my life and finally, they were no more. It is such a blessing! Granted, because of that, some dynamics among friends and family have changed, too. Old and new friends have kept me calm and my new mantra is "Imagine the possibilities!" It's all as it should be.

Emily, Tim, and I finished our redemption song and it was sung at the Bistro to a good crowd. I hope Emily will sing it again while I'm gone and that she has huge standing-room-only crowds for the next two Tuesday nights.Speaking of music, as I sit by my window writing this, I am also listening to The Transmitters (a local reggae-ish band) playing at a restaurant right across the street on Sophia. Quite a crowd has gathered as the weather could not be more perfect. Though they do not know it, it's a lovely sendoff for my trip.

I'm still a bit shaky as I ponder the logistics of the trip; getting to and from the airport, through all the rigamarole of customs and baggage pickup. Then I get to decide whether to spend a huge amount of Euros to get a cab to the apartment or take a bus and then the metro. I'm trying to keep my bags to a minimum so that taking these forms of transportation will be doable, but I'm having some trouble. Which shoes to leave behind? Do I really need the heavy coat or will just a lined raincoat be sufficient? (As of today's weather report, it is going to be cloudy for a few days and then rainy. Ahhhh! All the more reason just to relax in a cafe for hours.)

I will learn a lot on this trip. I will make new friends, find new second-hand shops, great cafes, and the best places to get bread and cheese in the 15th. I do not expect that any huge revelations will come to me on this trip; I don't want any pressure on myself to come away with experience away and above from just sensual experiences. My joy at opening the door to a bakery will be sublime as I inhale the aroma of fresh-baked bread. My senses will be awakened to good French wine and cheeses I've never even heard the names of before.

I will be visiting sites and museums and possibly my childhood home, but more for me, this trip is about being in a foreign country, a place I have not seen for 44 years, reminding me of a little girl with big dreams and happy eyes and a snaggletooth grin. I will take her hand and fall in love in Paris.