30 hours of which 11 hours of train or…

On the road again.

The name of my blog surely gives it away: Views from Everywhere.

I love to travel, but even I have been known to cram in perhaps a wee bit too much.

Seated on my first train yesterday morning, headed towards Southern France (thanks S for being at home!) I realized that once I got here out of 30 hours I would have spent 11 of them on one train or the other.  Leaving St.Gallen the day before around noon, arriving in Argelès-sur-Mer at 18:00, I have also covered just under 1’000 kilometers.

Below a few scenes – through dirty train windows – of the trip in between Geneva and Argelès-sur-Mer.

Rhone river outside of Bellegarde, France

ruin on the outskirts of Bellegarde

Lyon, France the "crayon"

a mountain-top village along the way

Sète France

Towards the Mediterranean

Harbor entry

Along the Mediterranean

Along the Mediterranean, Spanish mountains

C's fish soup - a great welcome!

the alcoholic and non-alcoholic versions

July 4th round-up for Miss Betty

Oh no – the last full day in Paris for our little band of tourists.

Our breakfast room

Organizer, J. (no not me for a change!) had arranged for a half-day English-speaking private tour guide who picked us up promptly at 9 a.m.  Starting to have to set the alarms.

Amir was our fountain of wisdom and source of entertainment for three and a half wonderful hours. I can highly recommend hiring a private guide as one can see what one has missed, or spend more time on what one personally wants to see! As we were a fairly homogenous group – all interested in the same things, we really benefited from the special treatment.  Montmartre and seeing where both Victor Hugo had lived as well as the famous Moulin Rouge, never mind the oldest true cabaret in Paris and the last vineyard as well, on top of Picasso’s work atelier then Sacré Coeur were highlights.

Moulin Rouge

Where Van Gogh lived with his brother in Montmartre

One of two remaining "moulins" where there was dancing: Utrillo, Toulouse-Lautrec, Picasso and others met here

Picasso's atelier

Sacré Coeur

A wonderful mime

The flying buttresses of Notre Dame

The explanations about the “Pont Neuf” (new bridge – the first built in stone as opposed to wood, which rotted and had to be replaced often), the narrow streets in another neighborhood; the Latin quarter (thus named as the Romans had come through in the first century BC); the Opera house – at the end of the street leading in between the Louvre and the Opera house where the Emporer had his own private entrance, simply too many things to take in, but we did try.  J had again organized lunch: at Monsieur Bleu we all had the Asparagus Linguine, which was delicious in itself. We had intended on not having any dessert thinking that nothing could beat Angelina’s: we were wrong as the following photos bear witness.

Before

Millefeuille

Upside down lemon tart

Salty caramel ice cream

Cheesecake

The aftermath

The afternoon passed in a swirl as we dashed back to Galeries Lafayette for another suitcase (I won’t tell who, but there were too many souvenirs to pack and not enough spare room); returned for a rest then packing. Had intended just grabbing a couple of salads in the tea room across the street, but, due to the Soccer match in between France and Germany, it shut early. J and I debated getting yogurts next door in the mini-market, but finally opted to go back to where we had had dinner the first night to avoid the hassle - remember those desserts? And we had thought them exceptional - guess it is a good thing that we didn't have more time or we might even have discovered others (better I am sure not after Angelina's and Monsieur Bleu)

As the Eiffel tower lit that evening, all were trying to get to sleep for an early morning departure: Miss Betty’s Paris adventure had come to an end… for this time at least.

She is now cruising and having a well-earned respite from the rush of seeing it all.

The Eiffel Tower as seen from our hotel's entry

 

Miss Betty at the Louvre and more decadent desserts…

Thursday July 3 and it was back to a program – thankfully one with only one major goal – visit the Louvre.

Our hotel, The Hôtel Elysées Union, (www.elysees-union.com) so kindly organized and recommended by Teresa of AAA (in Redlands? To be confirmed by J) has been above the average in terms of the friendliness of the staff and the provision of whatever we needed: a wheelchair borrowed by the family to go to Versailles and again this morning for the Louvre.

Part of one wing of the Louvre

From inside the entry pyramid - conceived by Pei

With four of us, two using canes, taxis were by far the best way of getting around – so after another copious breakfast off we went.  What a blessing to have the “handicapped” with us, as D & I became accompanying persons and the four of us entered free. But that was the minor blessing: the real one was being able to actually move and clear a path on the lower floors. Whilst fresh we decided to show Miss Betty the Mona Lisa as it had been many years since last she (Miss Betty) had seen her - the Mona Lisa (I mean maybe once they were on a personal basis, back before she got put under glass and cordoned off): what a trial – and not to be offensive or politically incorrect – the Asians pushed, shoved and tripped over the wheelchair without thought or pause in their “need” to see this famous painting. Luckily for us, a guardian saw what was happening and before we could say Jack Robinson, dashed over,

through the front rows and beckoned us beyond the cord barrier directly in front of the painting: I had goose bumps and not wishing to make a nuisance of myself, didn’t even take a picture – it was enough to have had the privilege of being so close. Bless the French guardians at the Louvre!

With then split paths (I and Miss Betty from her two daughters J and D), and I with the lovely excuse of Miss Betty, was allowed to wander in search of more quiet corners. After some trial and error – and yet another lovely guardian – we managed to find the elevator to the top floor and the lesser frequented, but just as mind boggling paintings.  We spent considerable time in one particular room with Ruben’s 24 paintings, commandeered by Marie de Medici in honour of her life: paintings which were commissioned to decorate the walls of one of her halls in the palace in which she lived – facing that of her husband Henri IV. They married first by proxy; she supplied the funds, he led the life, but she also more importantly supplied him with an heir – Louis XIII. Born in Florence, Italy, she reigned in France until her son was able to take over the throne; intrigues and exile followed; then a reconciliation; in the end she traveled to Cologne, Germany, staying in the house of Pierre-Paul Rubens where she passed away.

Still in love with reflections, this a window overlooking a hall of sculptures

In this part of the Louvre I was finally able to allow (graciously you understand to make up for the rather abrupt: “you will stay in the wheelchair” of the lower floor) Miss Betty to walk around using her cane or the back of the wheelchair, a by far more comfortable solution.  It was also there, sitting on the benches provided for viewing down the center of the room, that we saw her daughters. I could have said that the “devil made me do it” but I prefer the “Miss Betty made me do it” version: borrowing her cane, I went and poked them both from the rear (on their you-know-what’s). Such fun. We decided that since all parties had seen what they most wanted to see, that we would leave the crowded halls and ferocious crowds to their own and head for a highly-recommended spot for a bite of lunch: Angelina’s

Angelina's

Upper gallery at Angelina's

Miss Betty and daughter D

To bless, or to curse, C – that is the question: she’s the one who had us heading there. Lunch was a wonder of tastes ranging from a truffle omelet to an asparagus risotto via two different types of quiches.  In fact it was so filling that we had to take away our desserts for later.  A bit of a search for the taxi stand and it was crash at the hotel.
 

Asparagus risotto

Then needing (believe it or not!) sustenance yet again around 19:30 we tried another restaurant on the main boulevard just around the corner. An air-conditioned room, a live singer and a far corner were welcome after the heat of the day, but we stayed reasonable in our choices knowing that dessert was awaiting us in the garden in front of our room.

Restaurant Kleber on Avenue Kleber

And what a dessert it was: we had picked four different ones and after purchasing paper plates and begging 4 forks and a knife from the mini-mart next door we were able to share the delights.

Paris New-York, a pecan confection

Raspberry tart

Peach Melba with vanilla custard

St. Honoré

 C – you are currently being blessed!

Flower store along our route

Miss Betty does it again…

Has a birthday!

July 2 was a landmark in the life of Miss Betty: Paris with two of her children, celebrating her 91^st birthday. It was also a “down day” in the program of planned events and city sightseeing, not that anyone was down, simply we had more flexibility and although many places and stops to see and acomplish, no particular order nor time frame in which they had to be made.

From the beginning – breakfast at the hotel, but we found a wee sweet to stand in for a birthday cake (the bakery where I had seen chocolate cupcakes the day before hadn’t made them that day so we had to settle for a “cake financier”, which is perhaps fitting as literally translated it means financial cake: does this mean that a windfall is in store for her?

Skipping the 90, just put the 1- cake for breakfast is allowed!

Miss Betty and her admirers - in the hotel lobby before leaving for the day.

In any case the first stop at the Maison du Chocolat saw a windfall of something: chocolate!

Maison du Chocolat and an accommodating salesperson

 

On to Galeries Lafayette and a woman’s favourite pastime: shopping.  A few perfume bottles later and we headed for Notre Dame and the free English guided tour. As said tour turned out to have as guide a very soft-spoken, heavily accented French women whom, if one was not directly in front of her, was basically not understandable. We decided that lunch was more important.

Galeries Lafayettes

Quasimodo’s with fresh lemonade (Miss Betty kept saying that it was a bit tart so 5 sugars later…), and lemon sugar crepes = happy tourists with enough energy to buy a few trinkets as souvenirs before heading back to the hotel for a slight pause.

The big event of the day: a dinner-cruise on the Seine river to celebrate Miss Betty’s 91^st.

Delicious starters (asparagus soup, Caesar salad, a terrine and several other choices), followed by a selection again of mains as well as of desserts - all accompanied by a bottle of white and a bottle of red wine (I do wonder what happens to the leftovers as we only drank enough to toast her health and I a normal glass, leaving more than enough for yet another meal).

Dessert and a surprise for Miss Betty - her own personalized birthday sherbet slice - again we stuck to the one candles in order to not melt the sherbert faster than it was already melting in the heat of celebration.

Suprised!

 

The perfect end to a perfect day.