Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

To get to Pairs from the United States, we took the A330 which I highlighted in “What’s That Noise”. I spoke about some of the interesting things for subway travel in Paris, but mentioned that it seemed to predominantly by these single car trains that run on tires. Well, on our way to Versailles, I was introduced to the rail lines that provide additional capacity to the subways of Paris.

The rail lines in Paris should be a model for those in the United States. I used to think that the best rail lines in the world were in the US. Boy am I wrong on that one. Thus far, France is a whole lot better. For example, trains here in France are smooth. That might not mean much to some, but when I took the train from Williamsburg, VA to Washington, D. C. I had to wear a relief band. This is one of those devices designed by NASA to help astronauts control motion sickness. It works extremely well for air travel, and like American Express, I do not travel without one. On our trip to D.C. I got really sick from the rocking back and forth motion, the clackity clack sounds, and the general sway of the trains. In Paris the trains do not sway, they clack every now and then, and generally I was able to sleep comfortably on the train and not feel as if I was barreling down the tracks.

This is the land of small cars, and when I mean small, I mean small. The other day I noticed that a Mini Cooper was a large car for this market, and the Smart Car, or tin can with wheels, is the smallest but about average. Most cars here are two doors. Some have 4 and there are a few mini vans. But even the mini vans are not much bigger than the Mini Coopers. Cars are just small. And parking, well, if you’re claustrophobic, this is not the place for you. Cars are literally parked in ways that a bumper is often touching an adjacent car; it’s plain nuts. Signage is also different. There are no signs that say speed limit. The speed limit signs are numbers in kilometers/hour inside a big red ring. Caution signs are a big red “X” inside a red ring, sometimes on blue backgrounds and others not. Tow away zones are marked with figures of a tow truck hauling a car away. But the kicker to all this is the STOP sign; it’s the same as in the states. Go figure. And this word, “STOP” has made it into the French language; chock one up to the Americans!

For part of our trip, we rented a car to view the countryside, and drive out of Paris to Rennes and Deauville. The car we were to rent was a Renault with a GPS added in for good measure. However, when we went to get the car and reminded the clerk of the GPS, he simply there were none. He said he was sorry, but he could not provide one. Thanks’ to my brother’s persistence and intimidation, the clerk began making calls to other Avis dealers to search for a GPS. As he called and found no GPS units, he gave an indication he would only make a few calls to appease my brother. To this my brother holds up a map of Paris with what shows about 40 Avis rental centers. He says to the clerk in perfect French, “There’s a lot of red on this map” implying the red AVIS locations. He then tells the clerk that I am an American, I am here on vacation, and I’m headed to Rennes and Deauville and there was no way I was leaving Paris without a GPS. So the clerk continued his search. During his search, another younger clerk asked what the problem was. We told him that a GPS was reserved and that I was not leaving until one was located. The younger clerk said that a number of the cars that they rent have a GPS unit integrated into the cars. So our clerk began looking at the variety of cars they had and found one. To be sure it would work in English, and that I could fit, we went to see this car.

The car was a Peugeot 307cc; a sports car. The clerk verified that the GPS unit would work and that I should be able to fit. It’s a small car, but truly a well engineered vehicle. We were not charged for the increase in grade nor the GPS because we were so patient. I took the additional insurance to ensure I would not be stuck with a 1000e bill if there was any additional damage to the vehicle. My brother decided to drive us back to the apartment to get our luggage and travel gear, and found that this little car was a powerhouse with some serious stamina for driving. It’s a diesel but drives like a mustang. It has 6-speeds forward and one reverse, a convertible, and plenty of room to the point that I was able to fit with plenty of room. If someone was sitting in the back seat, they’d have to have a mouth guard because it was cramped. But the front was nice.

Traveling in Paris was not as difficult as I had expected, but it’s not easy. Driving the countryside is even more interesting. There are no small towns dotting the countryside, just small hamlets that were rather sparse. What the countryside has is plenty of farms. Every piece of real-estate is used for farming. And the farm houses look like the elegant French villa’s with various plain box with roof barns. They look nothing like the barns in the US. And the fields are covered with hay, straw from wheat, corn, and another plant I have yet to determine.

Things are definitely different. Rest stops occur about every 15 miles. The men’s urinals are in the open and doors to the toilets open to the outdoors and can be used for men or women; nothing like just being out there. Another interesting phenomenon is the roads are toll roads – 26.50e to go 150 miles, or $37. These toll roads have both rest stops and stations to get food and fuel. This is a brilliant concept. And the roads are well maintained. The US should take a tip from this. In fact, we charge little and have lousy roads.

Top speeds here are about the same, but measured in kilometers per hour (km/hr). Signage is almost the same, except along the roads there are almost no advertisements. Only an occasional art work billboard of the towns nearby can be seen. The countryside is far from flat. It is hilly and quite beautiful. I am struck that Cezanne’s paintings actually capture this quite well, giving me a much better understanding of the painter’s work.

When Glucose Falls

Upon entering the front door of my siblings' apartment, there is a small chair on the false wooden floor foyer for taking off and donning shoes, boots, and tying them for travel. My daughter decides that she wants to paint her finger nails. I think that since she saw her Aunt Jeannine do her toe nails, and they looked awesome, that she would do the same for her fingers. To do this, she takes the chair into the bathroom where there is a long cantilevered table in front of a mirror. Then, as she begins, she decides not to do it. So she leaves the chair in place, and comes to dinner.

Dinner, as has been the entire time at my siblings' place, delicious and plentiful. An after dinner treat was cheese. American style cheeses can have some strong flavors like sharp cheddar, but generally the flavors are mild. The French cheeses are amazingly fragrant, like a men's locker room. Roquefort, brie, and goat cheese were served. The Roquefort was delicious with bread and the fig preserves. The brie, well, it was so strong it was difficult to eat and did not get consumed. The goat cheese was far more milder than the stuff we get in America. After the cheese, we have a few pieces of fruit and we relaxed for the remainder of the evening.

Just before heading to bed, I do my normal routine. I take a children's aspirin, take a shower, then inject long acting insulin and take the remainder handful of medications and supplements for my variety of ailments. Taking insulin is a bit scary, because you have to get it into the fatty tissue with an injection - needle. If you know me, finding that is not too difficult on most of my body, except my head or legs. I usually put it into my side or my daughter puts it into the back of my arm. Either way, it usually ends up in the right place. Usually. The night of the 23rd it ended up in my vein on the side of my belly, I shot long acting insulin into my circulation system; not good, not good at all.

Within 1 hour my glucose fell 200 points and I was woken up out of a dead sleep shaking. Fortunately my body warns me of such episodes. So I got up and realized I had to pee. So I went into the bathroom, jammed my right foot into the chair that was not supposed to be in the bathroom, and began to fall. When the glucose falls, so do I. I grabbed for the wall, but ended up grabbing one of the towel racks. The rack gave way, and came out of the wall, partially. So here I am, trembling from low glucose, with a full bladder, my foot is screaming in pain, and I am balancing on my left foot with a partially mounted towel rack. I let go of the rack, get to the light in the bathroom, I don't usually turn it on so I don't wake up too much, fix the rack, pee, and hobble to the dinning room to find my glucometer. My glucose was 34 and dropping. I needed sugar immediately or an ambulance that had dextrose IV liquids. I prefer drinking something sweet. So, I hobble to the refrigerator, get some juice where the juices are, sit down at the table, and have a glass of what I know is juice, but not sure what type.

I then have the idea to eat a candy-bar; Snickers because of the sugar and peanuts. I hobble to the bedroom, and ask Sarah for help to find some Lactaid, a lactaze supplement; I'm lactose intolerant and the last thing I need is an upset stomach to go with the low blood sugar and now ever throbbing toes. Sarah looks at me, I tell her the problem, she says ok, then drops back to sleep. Much good that was. I find the Lactaid, take a few, and eat a candy bar and more juice. Within 30 minutes my glucose is back up to 56. within an hour it's 101 and I hobble to bed and crash. When glucose goes that low with me, it causes my adrenal glands to produce extra adrenaline according to my doctors; it's what causes me to tremble and wake me up when my glucose is low. The downside is that when it's gone, I fall into a deep sleep.

When I woke in the morning, I thought it was all a bad dream, until I realized by toes were still throbbing, there were candy wrappers in the pocket where my glucometer was supposed to be, and an empty quart box of Clementine juice was on the dinning room table. Moral of this story, aside from don't put insulin into a vein, put things back where you find them or someone is liable to pay the consequences.

French Cuisine

Twenty-eight years ago I took a trip, as a gift from my late and wonderful Grandma Sadie, to Paris as part of the French Club from high school. It was an impressionable trip, and one that I still remember. There were 5 of us, two boys, two girls, and our chaperon Karen O'Malia. By this point in my life I had 2 years of French language in high school, and felt confident I could manage in the country. The first two days was a real shock because language immersion is very different than learning the language. The most difficult use of the language I had to master was ordering food or I was going to starve. I was a lot smaller then, and starving was a very real possibility.

I also remember our teacher/chaperon telling us that the Parisians do not eat beef the way we do in the states. In fact, in the states, beef is not the same thing as in France. In France, the French eat beef either tar-tar (raw with plenty of spices), or at most rare. When we were told this as teenagers, I was rather disgusted. My mother makes an awesome brisket, my grandmother made awesome roast beef. And in many cases we typically ate beef medium at the minimum and even well done. So our teacher told us to order the beef we requested "bein qui" or well done. We were warned that the French would look at us as if we had just produced a loud fart in public. To order beef in France well done was considered outrageous. So we were cautious and did do this once or twice. I do remember the meal being somewhat almost edible; that surprised me.

French cuisine is probably considered some of the best in the world. Their pastries, such as the one pictured above, are considered the absolute best, and generally speaking, chefs in America attempt to reproduce this cuisine. Fortunately our chefs I think are better than the French, because they also include cooking styles from all over the world; consistent with the melding pot of American culture, so too is the food in America. That means you can find some really disgusting stuff as we did in Lurray, where even the flies wouldn't touch the food, to the food available in some of the finest restaurants in America such as the Trellis in Williamsburg (now owned by the Blue Talon). French food is not just food, it's art. So when you ask for well done, you are basically telling the chefs they suck at cooking.

This time, after having lived another 28 years from the last visit, I finally understand why "well done" in Paris is offensive. The beef and meats in general in France, have no marble content. That means that the fat content of the beef is nil; almost non-existent. My grandma Sadie used to tell me that the best cut of beef, aside from filet mignon, is one that has a significant content of fat included with the beef. As the beef cooks, the fat drains into the meat and the holes left behind tend to make the meat tender, or so I was told. It seems to make sense and a reason why I prefer rib-eye steaks over strip steaks; rib-eye has a higher fat content. But in France, there is no fat. So if you cook the beef the same way, you end up with something that cannot be cut by a knife or chewed by the mouth. It's worse than chewing leather, and if your not careful, you could lose teeth in the process.

Which brings me to the conclusion. French cuisine is considered the best food unless you apply your styles of preparing it. When in France, follow some of the rules about their foods, and you'll eat very well. I have stayed away from beef here and will continue to do so; I'd rather not purchase something that belongs on a football field instead of a plate. Instead, I've been eating very little pork, some chicken and lots of fish. My brother asked if I was growing gills yet. Nope, not yet. But I can say that the meals prepared at my brothers place both by him and especially my sister-in-law. We have dined on Bar (most likely bass according to my siblings) darod, tuna, and sole. The fish is most fresh because it is purchased from a local market, pictured here, that is open on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. Since fresh fish is only fresh for a few days, we ate chicken on Tuesday. Accompanied by pasta dishes, olives and tomato plates, a salad here and there, and some of the sweetest fruits you can imagine. The French cuisine is more than likely the best because they use the freshest ingredients and they work with what is available.

C'est La Guerre "That's War"

France is not immune to the ravages of war. Throughout time as we know it, this part of the world has seen wars of all types. There's the 100 years war. the Franco-Prussian War (with Germany), and the First World War to name a few. But France has had both loss and gain, and under the military command of Napoleon, France was victorious more than it was not. In fact one of France's greatest was indeed Napoleon, but like most successful generals that became rulers, he was also one of France's worst rulers. I suspect that General and then President Washington was the only one I know who had such respect and admiration, that he walked away proud of what he had accomplished and went down in the history books as one of the greatest, and somewhat humble men of the United States. But Napoleon was not.

Still, as Napoleon ruled and warred against other nations, he was successful. With the ravages of war, he looted and brought back phenomenal works of art that hang in the Louvre to this very day. France does not relinquish control of these art works either, which I find rather interesting given the fact that other countries have had to relinquish their possessions that they confiscated from other nations during war. I guess if the French government works towards a deal to get peace between Israel and the Palestinians and land is swapped for peace, France will also have to consider doing the same.

To honor the fallen of Napoleon's army and navy, he built the Arc d'Triumph, and set it as the center of the city of Paris has he built some of the greatest treasures of Paris. Today, we headed there after seeing "Inception". The monument was busy with all sorts of military and police. I was very impressed with the French special forces that were there; they have come a long way since World War Two, and by comparison to what we see in our American military, the French should truly be quite proud of their armed forces. What we did not understand, as we began our 284 step rise to the top of the monument, is that the tomb of the unknown soldier, set there in January 28th, 1921, was having the eternal flame relit in accordance with tradition as has been done everyday since 1932. A solemn occasion with wreathes from all sorts of countries including Canada, Germany, and France. I was unable to make out the USA, though I'm sure they were there.

At the top of the monument, which took 30 years to build, is a view that is only surpassed by the Eiffel Tower. The location of the monument is called Etoile which means star. Based on the fact that all roads emanate from the center of the monument, from above it looks like a star of the city, or perhaps it is the star of the city. Either way, the view was breath taking and from the pictures I include here, should give you an idea of what this place means as a monument to all fallen soldiers of France.

Versailles

The title is enough said; sort of like the words Michael Jackson. Everyone knows about Versailles, but what we learned was a very different story than most may know. The palace was built because Louis the XIV (14th for those that are Roman numeral impaired) was angry that his chief finance minister Fouquet built an ever more lavish home. The minister built a huge home outside of Paris, and had a wonderful party with all sorts of guests, including the King of France. Louis XIV was so incensed that he had Fouquet thrown into prison and his architect, gardener, and artist were hired to build a better palace; the Palace of Versailles.

This home was the grandest of grand, complete with gardens, a mirror pond, and a palace fit for a king. What is interesting to note is that the original palace for kings was actually the Louvre, where some of the most prized possessions of France can be found, including Davinci's Mona Lisa. But Louis the XIV wanted something more grand. Hence, Versailles. It is also note worthy that before the palace was the palace, it was actually a hunting lodge. I'll bet my old hunting buddies would have loved to have Versailles as their hunt lodge. The palace was the home of the French Monarchy through Louis the XVIII, though Louis the XVI was the one that was beheaded with Marie Antoinette in the revolution of 1789.

We toured the palace with an audio tour. I was smart enough to bring a headset that has a standard stereo receptical that subsequently fit the audio device so that all I had to do was punch in a number and listen. The guide was amazing, covering everything from the construction of the palace chapel whose ceiling is higher than any of the ceilings in the palace, to the hall of mirrors. We were able to see plenty of painted pictures, frescoes, and the king and queen's chambers. We both found it interesting that the court of both the king and queen greeted them when they woke up in bed. We were also curious how the king and queen ever had children. Then we found out that the maids in waiting would prepare the queen for the king. From what we learned, the kings were not too much into foreplay. There also as the typical double standard. The king had numerous mistresses while the queen had to be quite secretive if she had an affair; but they each did not maintain fidelity. This is probably due to the fact that marriages were used in place of treaties between nations to build trust among would be warring countries; sometimes this too was a source of conflict. Which is why I prefer the written word and a general agreement.

A few of the pictures of Versailles are shown. Note that we ate lunch in the gardens which was quite quaint. The food was not too limited, and it was tasty and not too pricey. There are two restaurants in the gardens, one down near the boats with the mirror pond, and one at the palace. The other comforting thing about Versailles was the ability to use English. All in all this was a wonderful visit.

Impressed on Impressionists

Throughout human evolution there has been attempts of using artwork to portray a thought, instruction, or even historical event. Early drawings were in caves, presumably by indigenous people we typically call Indians, to those that date these people called cavemen. As humans have evolved, so too have the techniques of putting to paper or canvas, ideas in their minds, or even something as inspirational as the gardens they grew and environment they enjoyed. Medieval artisans used their hands to create realistic forms of art. Paintings were of actual objects, or lifelike portrayals of battles and even religious content such as those of Jesus. But in the mid 19th century, a new group of painters and sculptors emerged; the impressionists. These artists are so named because they did not particularly paint exact objects or photographs of what they saw. They painted in ways that gave the view an "impression" of what they were attempting to portray. And in that vain, their artwork were open to several different interpretations.

Today, we were privileged to visit Musee d'Orsay, Museum of Orsay, a museum of impressionists. Artists such as Claud Monet (my personal favorite), Renoir, Rodin, Gauguin, Manet, and even Matisse. Many of the artworks we were able to see were similar to those that are in the United States National Art Gallery at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington D.C. So there were many that we thought we had seen, when in reality, the impressionists had made several types of the same painting, exploring lighting and even the use of color as the progression of the paintings were made.

As I noted, Monet is my favorite. According to the audio tour we used at the Musee d'Orsay, Monet made over 500 paintings. Today these paintings are sold at auction for as much as 75 million dollars. But if we take an average, his full collection is worth something on the order of 25 billion dollars. That's not a typo. Unfortunately Monet never saw such wealth, but he evidently did well enough to be able to build his last home, fill it with various gardens and use them as inspirations for his work to impress upon viewers what he found to be grand.

A Powerful Organization

During our tour of France, we have had the privilege of visiting an apartment of Victor Hugo, where he lived the longest length of time in one place. This seemed interesting because during the tour, we encountered various exhibits of the Hugo family. Some of these are shown to the left. But the one picture that I found most interesting was the one with a few hand drawn sketches. If you look closely, you can see what appears to be some sort of monster, a hunchback.

This little sketch gave rise to one of the more interesting stories ever written by Victor Hugo, "The Hunchback of Notre Dame." As most are familiar, Notre Dame is located in Paris. But what most people probably do not know is that the location of this immense Catholic church is the island in the Seine River that is the oldest part of Paris; it's where Paris began. There are two such islands, and according to archeologists, there have been people living on these islands since 4200 B.C. But the first known establishment with Paris as a city was in 400 A.D. So this city is over 1600 years old.

In the years succeeding 400 A.D. Christianity became a very popular and powerful organization, wielding the power to control the operations of governments and even determining how people should live or die. It's the primary reason for the Magna Carta, and the reason in the US Constitution there is a clear separation of "church and state". During its peak of power, the Catholic church erected huge houses of worship, probably to show the world and the surrounding areas that the true rulers were priests and not kings. But this church is unique. Not only is it huge, but it is amazingly intricate and quite beautiful.

The engineering behind Notre Dame is simply amazing. Construction of this church began in 1100 and was completed 200 years later. It appears to be completely made of stone. Aside from the stone, are the famous and well known stained glass windows. The church I am sure has some incredible history. But what I found most interesting is this room off of the main corridor that encompasses the sanctuary of the church. The rooms are not private, but set off of the circle that surrounds the sanctuary with rod iron and wooden partitions. In this one room there is a picture of what I assume is Jesus Christ. But that's not the interesting part. What is most interesting is this small stand that is cloaked in a red see through plastic cloth that is presumably holding the thorn crown that Jesus wore while on the cross. It was not guarded with sentries, it was simply sitting there for all to look. I actually rested in the pews that were outside this small room and saw several Catholics bow and pray there.

I'm not sure that this is what G-d had in mind, but it seems odd, even uncomfortable, to me to bow to something as if it were G-d like.