Category Archives: France

Bon anniversaire, Jacky!

This past Saturday, we strolled a bit in the garden of the Muséum d’Histoire Naturelle, which is always lovely, but especially when the sun breaks through the clouds . . .

But even better than that, on Sunday, around noon, Pascale picked us up here . . . →

. . . since living right in the center of town makes getting to us a bit more challenging. She was bringing us back to Pascale and Jacky’s house to celebrate Jacky’s 70th birthday with family and some of their closest friends. What a treat to be included in the celebration.

I was a little intimidated at first, wondering how my language skills would hold up. And certainly a great deal of French went right by me, but it didn’t matter.  A LOT was very fast and multiple conversations were going on all the time, as you would expect, and jokes were frequently of the jeu de mots variety (play on words–absolutely no idea how to pluralize that correctly in either language — jeux de mots and “plays on words” maybe, but it sounds weird in English, so who knows).

Anyway, I did manage to understand quite a bit and even converse with a few people. It helped that everyone was so very welcoming and friendly.

Graziella et Jean-Claude

And it was just plain fun in any language. Antoine, who was sitting next to me at the table, was helpful and hilarious. ↓

Pascale, David, Sunny, Antoine (hamming it up for the camera), Anne-Marie, Jacky (maybe contemplating being 70) and the back of Jean-Marie

We had no idea what was in store for us. We knew we would be wined and dined, but had no idea this party would last TEN hours. And it flew by. We started with champagne, ended (the first meal) with cognac and had amazing wines in between, not to mention the courses that just kept coming. Here’s Jean, who is working toward being a chef, assembling the entrée (which is the first course after the apero and amuse geules) . . . . ↓

Jean assembling the tiramisu aux deux saumons (fresh salmon on the bottom, smoked on top, with savory mascarpone in the middle)

Then of course le plat principal, then salade et fromage, then . . .

Anne-Marie and Magali watching Jacky pretend to bite into his birthday gateau carrelet

. . . le dessert, in this case a birthday gateau carrelet.carrelet is a type of fishing hut on stilts from which one lowers a net into the sea and some time later brings it back up, preferably with fish in it. The “boulders” below were little eclairs, and the small white “rocks” were candy-covered almonds. Super creative.

Clockwise from bottom left: Antoine, Anne-Marie, Pascale’s daughter Anna, Pascale, Pascale’s son Jean, Jacky’s daughter Magali, Jacky with the carrelet

So after several hours of eating and drinking, a number of the women took the dog for a walk and all the men, plus Anne-Marie and I, got in a couple of cars to go play pétanque.  The first thing we learned is that you can play ANYWHERE.

Pétanque n’importe où — Jacky, Anne-Marie, Jean-Marie, Antoine and note the boule being thrown either by Jean-Claude or David
David awaiting his turn in pétanque

Fortunately, both David and I acquitted ourselves reasonably well, and our team, Jacky’s team, won all three games. Nice for Jacky to win on his birthday, but there was a fair amount of chance and mischance involved, since we were playing in a random industrial construction zone, so the ball would hit a rock and go jetting off in a completely unexpected direction. Still, super fun. And don’t you love how great David is looking?

Then back to the house, where the aperitifs came back out and another smaller meal, but still with le plat principal, la salade, du fromage, et dessert. Pretty soon it was after 10:00 at night and time for Pascale, who had been slaving away all day, rather than drinking like the rest of us, to take us home.

We felt so very privileged to be included in this special day.

Jacky and Jocelyne, presenting Jean-Marie’s and her gift

We had found a card to accompany our gift to Jacky which really says it all:

Être avec des gens qu’on aime, cela suffit . . . . ∼Jean de La Bruyère

(To be with people one loves, that is enough.)

Wishing you beautiful places, whenever possible, but more than that, beloved friends and family with whom to share special times, even if that means playing games among the rocks.

La Réalité

Most important, of course, is an update on David, so I’m very happy to report that he continues to do well. We walk a lot every day, starting with the marché every morning . . .

Marché

The marché  is impressive every day, but only Wednesday and Saturday marchés are so huge they spill onto side streets like this one. We browse a while then buy what we want for the day, which happens to be mostly strawberries this week. Les gariguettes, an early season variety, are tender and sweet and we can’t seem to get enough of them.  

After dropping everything at the apartment, we’re ready for a bit of wandering. We stroll rather than power walk, but we are definitely out and about every day, visiting our favorite spots.

Saturday Stroll

We still love the verdant peace of Parc Charruyer . . . ↓

A stroll through the park can take us all the way to one of the beaches, Plage de la Concurrence, but we only stay if the breeze is not too brisk. Today we kept moving.

David heading toward Tour de la Lanterne

Tour de la Lanterne has been spiffed up since our last visit. It was covered in scaffolding by the time we left in October 2014, but is now practically gleaming. David is not quite up to climbing the towers, but we did that more than once the last time we were here.

There’s always something to see, no matter where we walk. Found this interesting little piece on the wall between Plage de la Concurrence and Tour de la Lanterne. ↓ 

La Rochelle artwork, detail
La Grosse Horloge as seen from our table at lunch today

Cours des Dames is still excellent for people-watching, so today David decided to stay there on a sunny bench while I went off to find a shop I’d heard about and to take a few more photos (below).

Sometime between noon and 1:00 everyday, we decide where we’ll have lunch. Today we chose the terrace at  Brasserie des Dames, right in the center of all the activity of le vieux port. Bliss, once the sun came out.

Quai Duperré

In some ways it feels like we just got here, but the reality is we’ve now been here a full week. Until today I haven’t even had my camera with me, partly because it has often been overcast or even raining a bit, but also because I kind of wanted to pretend to be a local. Of course if I speak, no one is fooled.

It turns out no matter how comfortable I felt speaking French with the taxi driver and defending our seats on the train, the reality is that my level of spoken French has slipped since last time we were here, even though my comprehension is better. Pascale and Jacky were too kind to mention it, being friends. Although I certainly consider Natacha a friend, too, she is also my tutor, so basically required to give me a realistic evaluation. Ouch. There went all my confidence for a few days. Bit of an overreaction, I know, but my emotions are a bit more fragile these days. Natacha is strict but encouraging, so I’m hopeful of regaining and even improving on my level of spoken French by the time we head back to the states at the end of May.

David is also sometimes discouraged, not about French, of course. He’s absolutely carefree about knowing just barely enough to be polite. But being back in a place where he had routinely walked four or five hours a day, the difference is hard to miss. The reality of lower energy levels and the uncertainly of the future sometimes weigh him down (and me along with him). But it is also reality that he is doing so much better than expected, and there’s hope in that for both of us.

There’s a bittersweet quality to being here in beautiful La Rochelle, the heart and starting point of our grand adventure. Memories are everywhere of a time when anything seemed possible. The reality, of course, is that no one knows the future. We have today. We have now. We have hope. And today, in the now, we have each other. We are so very grateful for that.

Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness. ∼Desmond Tutu

We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope. ∼Martin Luther King, Jr.

Wishing you hope and gratitude even in the midst of difficult reality.

La Rochelle, Le Retour

Gare La Rochelle

We’re back in La Rochelle, first time since our long séjour in 2014. Planes, trains and automobiles were all involved, but we’re here at last. I can already tell I’m a bit more comfortable speaking French. I chatted with the Paris taxi driver most of the way from the airport to Gare Montparnasse, then dealt with an issue on the train without switching to English. When asked if I spoke French or English, I said “les deux” (both) and defended our right to our seats in French without hesitation.

What fun it was to walk out of the train station, to the familiar streets of this charming town . . .

Rue Bazoges, La Rochelle

Yesterday afternoon, we scrambled to get a few groceries to tide us over until Tuesday, since most shops close on Sundays, and Monday is a holiday in France, so we weren’t really able to take advantage of the warmth and sunshine–not to mention being nearly comatose from fatigue.

Today, Sunday, after an excellent night’s sleep, we were ready to reacquaint ourselves with one of our favorite places. Half a block from our apartment, the main central marché was open . . .

Le Vieux Marché, La Rochelle

This marché is open every day, so we buy only what we need for the day or in this case two days, since I wasn’t sure about the holiday tomorrow.

The breeze was a bit brisk this morning and the sky was overcast, but it wasn’t too bad. Then the weather went a little crazy around noon, sending chairs and signs flying. Fortunately, we were already installed inside a port-side café by then, with pineau des Charentes and moules frites, so were able to watch the drama from l’intérieur.

Here’s le vieux port on sunnier days back in 2014.

Le Vieux Port, La Rochelle
View over Le Vieux Port, La Rochelle, to the famous three towers

The space got a bit cozy as more and more people sought shelter, but that created an air of camaraderie enough that we (well, mostly I, since it was in French) ended up chatting a bit with the people at the next table. (Remember the “next” table in France is often only 3 or 4 inches from your own.) It reminded me of Frederick Buechner’s comments about rainy days.

We lingered a bit over coffee and dessert, but finally ventured out to head back “home.” What a relief it is, having an apartment this time en plein centre ville (right in the center of town). Still David has done more walking in the past two days than he has in months, but he insists he’s doing well.

With the intermittent rain, we took advantage of les arcades . . .

Les Arcades, La Rochelle

. . . which covered us nearly all the way back to the apartment.

Tomorrow, we’ll see Pascale and Jacky, our companions in so many adventures. Can’t wait.

The more one does and sees and feels, the more one is able to do, and the more genuine may be one’s appreciation of fundamental things like home, and love, and understanding companionship.  Amelia Earhart

Wishing you congenial companions in both adversity and adventure!

 

Step . . .

STEP . . . carefully: France has made an indelible impression on us and now David can say HE has made an indelible impression on France:

Oops. David's Impression on France
Oops. David’s Impression on France

Not so much as a tiny paper note in French, let alone an orange cone, warning pedestrians of the new cement. (David’s are the left and the deep right footprints). He was watching traffic, trying to find an opportunity to cross before the sidewalk completely narrowed into nothing, and all of a sudden he felt the sidewalk was a bit . . . er . . . squishy.

STEP . . . up and up and up (and down and down and down): Wednesday, we decided to give ourselves a break from the 112 steps down to the local metro (and of course the 112 steps back up to get home), and instead decided to visit Sacré Coeur again and see the crypt and . . . yes . . . climb the dome . . .

Um . . . offering a bit of encouragement on the way up?
Offering a bit of encouragement on the way up?

. . . so 300 steps up and more than 300 down, because it’s a different staircase and at one point in the descent you have to go back up 17 steps, then immediately back down 17 (yes, I counted–I was a bit annoyed, okay?), just to get to the other side of a piece of roof, and all this is not counting the steps just to get from the apartment to Sacré Coeur.

Aria Singer Sacré Coeur
Aria Singer Sacré Coeur

On the plus side, the climb was done to the soundtrack of this woman beautifully singing some of my favorite arias on the steps on one side of the basilica. Absolutely magical. We were climbing just above her (and then a LOT above her).

Also a plus: The views were worth every step.

 

Front View from atop Sacre Coeur

From Atop Sacré Coeur
From Atop Sacré Coeur

Tour Eiffel from atop Sacre CoeurStrange to notice a fire near Opéra Garnier, and not know how serious it was. We later learned it was a gas explosion that was quickly contained.

Fire near Opéra Garnier, shot with zoom.
Fire near Opéra Garnier, shot with zoom.
Steps of Montmartre
Steps of Montmartre

Later in the day, we decided to walk back to Coquelicot to buy another loaf or two of la Picola to see if it was as good as we remembered. (It was.) But since I was a bit tired of the stairs I chose to head a bit east to try to get more around the perimeter of the hill. Imagine my not-so-delighted surprise when our route turned out to include this:

Sheesh. Bet they don’t sell ANY Stairmasters in Paris. Who would need one?

STEP . . . inside. WIFI is terrible in this apartment, so not sure when I can post this, but as I write this, it is our last day in France (for 2014, anyway), and a bit rainy and cool. We tried to think of something super profound to do, to no avail. Instead we decided to be Parisian and go shopping.  We didn’t buy anything, just took a few photos. This is how they do department stores in Paris:

Ceiling of Galeries Lafayette, Paris
Ceiling of Galeries Lafayette, Paris

 

And now, for a moment, let’s STEP . . . back . . . to remember how far we’ve come. This whole adventure started with a simple desire to learn French in the best, most efficient way possible (living here for a while), and it’s been a long road. But as we enjoyed lunch in a brasserie after our shopping, we both realized that, finally, I was completely comfortable with getting a table, reading the menu, ordering, paying, the whole process, really. And David, although he has not learned French, has kind of learned, well, France – how to modulate his voice to the much quieter French level, how to patiently wait until the server is ready to take our order, how to take our time over a bottle of wine at lunch, how to enjoy a conversation (and a little people-watching) between courses even if the next course is a while in coming.

And finally, it’s time to . . .

STEP . . . forward . . . to the next part of this journey. Five more months to go, but all stateside. No more random, cool Frenchy things on random corners, like this . . .

Building Detail Montmartre

. . . but there will be other things to see, other people to meet, other cities to explore, and I promise to tell you all about them. And eventually, God willing, there will be friends and family to see again, both here in France and back in the U.S.A. So until we meet again, au revoir!