We’re on full-steam-ahead mode now. You’ll be happy for David when you hear that I’m finally helping with the packing. I’ve now packed 29 boxes of books, which is more than half of the fiction section of our library. It was actually kind of addictive, like a jigsaw puzzle, so I will definitely be packing more of the library, I promise.

Here is the final post about the 2013 reconnaissance mission, originally written just after we had arrived home (chez nous):

We managed to dodge all the transportation strikes in France and the lightning in Denver that almost forced our plane to land in Colorado Springs instead, and got home late Thursday evening, the 13th of June.

Here is the last set of photos from our three weeks in France. These are a few I wanted to send earlier, but they didn’t quite make the first cut. So for a temporary farewell to France, here they are.

Inside shot of Musée d’Orsay. No photos allowed in among the paintings, but this is from the little scenic overlook you can climb up to after you finish admiring the Impressionists. I think I was allowed to take this shot, but if not, it’s too late now!

The posh restaurant at the Musée d’Orsay mentioned in an earlier email. Fortunately the rain chased us in there.

Tiny park in Paris with benches after my own heart.

Another shot of the park with the pretty blue benches.

One of the other beaches on Ile de Ré. Love this picturesque ramp, but my favorite part was the sign right next to it saying, “Beach Access 0 km →” (or more likely Plage Accès) pointing to the right AWAY from the ramp. I can agree with the 0 km distance, but I question the need for the sign in the first place and certainly the direction of the arrow. Quoi? (Roughly, Huh?)

This and other mysteries will perhaps be solved soon. We fly to France on the 26th of March.

À bientôt, la belle France!

June 2013 — the final leg of the trial run. Trying to find the Avis rental car drop-off in Marseille was a bit hair-raising, involving David driving in a large and unfamiliar city in bumper to bumper traffic (sometimes literally) and me periodically hanging out the window  or even jumping out at various corners and accosting strangers for directions.  But we finally found the place, parked the car in an open spot and went looking for someone to check us in. When we finally did, they had no interest in actually seeing the car and just said something to the effect of, “Oh, it’s parked down there. Okay.” No checking for new dents and scratches. No even making sure it’s actually in their lot. It was a little unusual, but no additional charges ever came through, so I guess all was well.

From there, we walked around the corner with our bags and followed the crowds, since not one sign pointed us to la gare (the train station). After a few hours on the TGV — super comfy, big cushy seats — we made it to Paris for an afternoon and evening in Montmartre. Longest taxi ride ever in near grid-locked traffic from Gare de Lyon, but still only 24 euros so didn’t break the bank. We’ve learned not to attempt the Metro with multiple bags, especially if there will be a connection, which there would have been. If you’ve never used the Paris Metro, be forewarned that many steps are involved, some go down just to go right back up FOR NO APPARENT REASON except to bedevil those dragging around bags on wheels. Not to mention the random confusing forks in the road. Someone should create a map of the underground tunnels leading to the various stations. But since I’m not aware of one, take a TAXI!!!!!

But we made it. Took a bit of a wander round after checking business emails, bien sûr (of course).

Try to ignore the couple in matching T-shirts checking their i-Phone. Pretty much impossible to avoid tourists in your photos of Paris/Montmartre unless you’re willing to get up at the crack of dawn (which I’m not, even though the light would be beautiful). This restaurant was the setting for a famous Renoir painting, Bal du Moulin de la Galette. Moulin is French for “windmill.” So if you’ve heard of Moulin Rouge, it’s a red windmill that happens to be over a very expensive well-known nightclub.

Everything is VERY cute here.

More cute.

Super cute. Thinking about trying to get a table for dinner. We didn’t make a reservation which is often a mistake in Paris, but we’ll wander over around 8 and hope for the best.

This is the view of Sacré Coeur when coming up from the public WC’s (down the steps southeast of the entrance, in case you’re ever looking), which I was very happy to have found! Absolutely magnificent cathedral. Made it inside today for the first time. Last attempt the line was too long. No photos allowed inside, I’m sorry to say, but it does help to maintain the sacred space feeling without cameras snapping away all the time.

We enjoyed Montmartre enough that we’ve booked a few apartments in this quartier for our various stays in Paris, one of which has a front door on a landing of one of these stairways:

We did make it home to Colorado the next day. La grève (the strike) was finished in the morning as promised (just making a statement, not hamstringing the entire country). The whole experience certainly broadened our horizons. That last evening, while I did another check of business emails, David watched some sort of Asian cooking show (with English  subtitles) where several people were outside around a fire, roasting a spider they had inserted (somehow–I wasn’t watching) in an egg. Yikes. Definitely had to take that man to go find some dinner.

9 June 2013 we drove the rest of the way to Sausset les Pins (near Marseille) to visit some customers of ours. Even though we kept to the back roads again, we made pretty good time following a couple on a motorcycle ahead of us driving as if the furies of hell were after them. We decided if they could handle all the turns at that speed on a motorcycle pulling a trailer, surely we could in our little car. Every so often I’d try to explain which turn to take at the next roundabout, but David would say, “I don’t care where you’re going, I’m following them!”

Our one departure from the back roads. This is the Viaduc de Millau (another photo shot through the windshield as we were speeding along). I took a shot of the valley very far below, but it turned out to be mostly of the blurry side rails, so I’ll spare you.

This was the view from our balcony in Sausset les Pins:

Pas mal, n’est-ce pas?  Which means roughly, “Not bad, eh?” (But you probably figured that one out.)

The next day we took a bit of a walk from our hotel to scope out the area. The beach there is mostly stones, but there were a few people lying on it anyway, with not so much as a towel, let alone a chair or yoga mat or any sort of padding. And they were doing a pretty good job of looking as if they were enjoying themselves. We, however, were not tempted.

The color of the water really is this spectacular in places.

And if you’re lucky enough to have a sailboat, the wind is blowing pretty much all the time. But if you don’t, as we of course do not, you can sit on a whale’s tail and stare longingly out to sea.