Paris – Week Three – Nov. 11-18, 2012

More pictures here!

Since our guests have begun to arrive and that will mean even less time for posting I thought I would focus this post on what might be useful information if you happen to come to this area of Paris.

First of all, the apartment at 74 Rue de Rennes is perfectly situated:  Two bus lines stop just outside the door; the 95 takes you to the Louvre and ultimately up to Montmartre and the 96 heads over to the Ile de la Cite, Notre Dame, and points further north-east.  Of course, they both link up to multiple lines which will take you anywhere.  (The bus system in Paris is wonderfully easy to navigate.)  Also just outside the door is the St. Sulpice Metro Station if you are more inclined to get somewhere quickly but in a much less scenic manner.

I prefer to walk most places and this area of St. Sulpice remains my favorite.  Having experienced walking through the Latin Quarter, over to the Ile de la Cite, to the Louvre and Tuileries among other hot spots, I can say walking along the more quiet streets of St. Sulpice, particularly on the way to Luxembourg Garden, is my choice for just enjoying the streets of Paris.  With the occasional small cafe, unique shops and fewer fast-paced Parisians it is a stroller’s paradise.

Of note, you can also walk to tennis at the Luxembourg Gardens from this location.  There is an office near the courts where you put in your name to get a court (usually no wait, but plan on arriving near the top of the hour); €8 per hour.  When it is busy they limit you to half an hour but this has only happened to us once (remember, we are here in November.)

Fashion and shopping is, of course, everywhere with many stores repeating their presence often and in close proximity (Zadig, Kenzo, Princess Tam Tam, Aubade) but if you need a belt, be sure and stop in at Losco.  They have belts of every size, shape, color and skin; first you pick your belt and then you chose from hundreds of buckles, from the simple to the grandiose, and the lovely lady puts it all together while you wait.  With a Parisian’s eye for fashion, her assistance is most helpful.

Another great discovery was the open market at the intersection of Boulevard Raspail and Rue de Rennes (200 meters from the flat); Wednesday, Friday and Sunday mornings with Sunday being the “Bio” day (organic produce.)

Finally, we attended a Chopin concert at Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre, the oldest church in Paris.  A small venue, it was delightful to be so close to the pianist and to hear the music flowing around the pillars and saturating the stone walls of the church.  Although I learned of the concert via a flyer outside of Notre Dame, tickets and more information can be found on the Concert in Paris website. 

-K

PS:  If you find yourself needing a great lunch spot while visiting Notre Dame, walk over to the Ile St. Louis and dine at the very French and very enjoyable Café St. Regis.

PPS:  If you are wondering about Rosco's photo above, I took it because he is constantly called TinTin, particularly by the Asian tourists who clamor to have their picture taken with him (much to River's chagrin.)

Paris – Week II – Nov. 5-11, 2012

A few more pictures here!

During Week II we made it a point to get out and about more and we discovered, of course, fine art, great food, busy tourist-weary Parisians and, happily, that there are a lot of Americans in Paris. 

What?  Kit and Alan are happy to see Americans abroad?  That is impossible! 

It is official, we have become Those People.  It used to be that when we traveled abroad we hated being seated next to other Americans; after all, we didn’t travel so far to overhear the same conversations, in the same accents, that we could while sitting at home.  But after nine months in Europe (and over a year with just each other to talk to) we are happy to hear an American voice.  And so we have become Those People:  The ones who sit beside you and engage you in conversation.  The ones we would have avoided like the plague if we were here on a short vacation.  Mon dieu.

As for the tourist-weary Parisians?  They can be a bit rude as evidenced by the day we were window shopping along the Boulevard St. Germain when a lady, and I use that term generously, and I nearly collided.  I looked up (and up and up—she was well over six feet tall) finally finding her face into which my, “Excusez moi” froze onto a field of ice.  It was like looking into the eyes of a cobra.  A cobra with a long, long nose.  She did not smile, she did not move, she only sent a penetrating chill down my spine.

But this has not been our experience of French people in general.  Americans typically think of the French as rude and vice versa; however, many Americans experience the French in Paris and Paris alone.  That is like experiencing Americans in Manhattan.  Most of our time outside of Paris the French people were welcoming, helpful, and interested in making our experience of their country extraordinary; much like you might find in Texas or California.  But Parisians?  Mais non.  To Parisians, like Manhattan-ites, tourists are nothing more than speed bumps; dark grey lumps designed to slow your progress. 

And so typically we don’t get the cheery, “Bonjour!” to which we had become accustomed in the small towns; although when I am out on the early morning constitutional with The Noses we often get mistaken for locals (who else would have two terriers in Paris?) and garner more welcoming nods and even a few, “Bon matin”s—but not until they are finished with their effusive greeting of The Noses.

Taking the advice of a friend of SP’s (P1), we ventured out to dinner at Le Relais de l’Entrecote and what an experience that was!  Insider information was again very helpful:  Armed with knowledge that there is always a line at the door (opens at 7, no reservations) we arrived at 6:45 and joined the queque.  P1 also prepared us for the only three questions we were to be asked that evening:  How do you like your meat cooked?  What do you want to drink?  And, What would you like for dessert?

You sit where they indicate, answer the three questions (the house red wine is quite good and a bargain at €17/bottle) and wait for the food to arrive.  First up is a fresh, simple green salad with a fantastic dressing.  Then the steak arrives, sliced and served from a large platter, followed quickly by a delicious light cream sauce on top of which the pommes frites float invitingly.  They keep an eye on you and as soon as the first helping is done they are at your side with more steak and frites.  Both are so delicious it is difficult to stop.  P1 recommended the profiteroles for dessert, but I opted for the crème brulee (I am afraid they used the torch, a staple in US restaurants which I had hoped was banned in France) and SP had the peach melba.  Next time we will follow P1’s suggestions all the way through.  Oh yes, there will be a next time.

Alas, there is more to Paris than shopping and food and one day we even managed to get to the Louvre.  Thankfully the lines are gone and we were able to walk directly to the ticket counter (opting for the machines) and then into the museum.  It was still plenty crowded particularly around the popular ladies (Ms. Lisa, Ms. Milo.)  I don’t profess to be an art expert but I know what I like and I was completely uninspired by both ladies.  However, the plasticity (and yes, I have been waiting since my Humanities 101 class in college to use that delicious word in context and so will do so again) the plasticity found on many other sculptures was simply incredible:  The drape of the robes looked so soft and realistic I thought it entirely possible to just reach out and make a slight wardrobe adjustment.  My favorite area of the Louvre, so far, was the seemingly outdoor sculpture garden; although I am reserving judgment until my next visit during which I will find my way to Napoleon’s Apartments.

As for The Noses?  I can’t say Paris is their favorite spot:  They spend an awful lot of time indoors or on leash weaving through crowds of people while trying not to get their eyes gouged out by the corners of expensive shopping bags.  Our morning walks are a highlight for all three of us as they get some off-leash time in the Palace Gardens during which Rosco digs for moles in the shrubbery and River simply runs as fast as she can in any direction, often complete circles.  We follow that up with a short off-leash walk along the Seine before leashing up and walking through the crowded shopping streets back to the flat.  

Paris, in general, is welcoming to The Noses although they were disallowed from the public bus for being too large.  (With the crowds that are often crammed onto the busses, I don’t blame them for not wanting dogs that cannot be held on a lap.)  We have seen larger dogs on the Metro but I can’t get enthused about navigating a turn-style with a terrier.  We have had no trouble bringing them into restaurants but the tables are so small and close together that even sticking them underneath doesn’t really work.  So we opt to give them their exercise, leave them sleeping in the flat, and then go out and enjoy some human time. 

Coming next week:  Kit finishes updating her wardrobe and a visit to the Musee D’Orsay and then . . .  Guests!

-K

Paris - The First Week - Oct. 28-Nov 4, 2012

More Pictures Here!

Having dropped Salt & Pepper off a the docks in Zeebrugge, Belgium, we had nothing left to do but to settle contentedly into our Paris flat.  Much larger than anticipated, it is a joy to be able to walk through multiple rooms without touching anything (or anyone or any dog.)

The flat is situated on the Rue de Rennes, two blocks from the St. Sulpice Lions (and of course the church, but I much prefer the Lions) which we visit at least twice a day as it is the first available dirt for The Noses' constitutional runs.  People in Paris barely notice when your dog does his business on the sidewalk (as long as you have a bag) but we still make them walk the walk to the dirt.  Incidentally, the sidewalks remain quite clean due to the rain and the street cleaning machines; the machines have an expandable hose which is carried along the sidewalk, washing down the stones and sending the water to the gutter and the awaiting machine. Very nice.

We spent our time during the first week walking The Noses around the Seine, Tuilleries, Luxembourg Gardens, renting bikes to visit the Eiffel Tower and two important stores about 5 KM away:  Decathalon (yoga mats) and Animalis (dog crates and beds.)

For some reason (and I am afraid to ask why lest it ends) SP has taken on the cooking duties which leaves me plenty of time for more shopping and Nose walking.  The Noses aren't thrilled with Paris; being on-leash or locked in the bedroom while we are out alone, but at least they can roam freely through the flat when we are all lazing around.  And what a luxury that is:  To read a book on a sofa in a Paris flat!  A sofa!  Paris!

Can't promise that my next posting will be any more interesting . . . we have a bit of routine down and it is heavy on the exercise (tennis in Luxembourg Gardens, P90X, walking, biking) to combat the Pain aux Raisins and just enjoying the fact that we can move through a city at our leisure and without a vehicle.  And take hot showers.

-K

Beaune, France – Oct. 21-26, 2012

More (not terribly interesting) pictures here!

On good advice from a great friend, we spent our final days with Salt & Pepper cruising around the picturesque Bourgogne region, carefully balancing our need to taste wine with our need to make it to the next stop.  Upon arrival in Beaune, the weather was cold and rainy so we decided to start out with a few hours underground in the Marche aux Vins.

We opted for the self-guided tour through multiple wine tasting stations but didn’t find much that interested us until we sat down with Laurent in a private room and he pulled out the really good stuff.  We typically enjoy a heavier wine than is found in the Burgandy region but Laurent managed to find enough interesting Pinots and even a few whites for us to send a case back home.

The following day we had a tasting appointment at La Cave L’Ange Guardien where we were charmed by Pierre, a delightful host who introduced us to many wines from the region (and one from the Cote du Rhone) as their own had been sold out for the season.   We ended up shipping home two cases, one entirely of a Rare Brut Cremant; well, 11 of the Cremant and one bottle of Cassis in order to duplicate the delicious Kir Royale which ended our tasting.  Rushing from the tasting we barely had time to change before making our reservation at Le Cheval Noir where our fantastic meal (with wine parings) was marred by the poor service.

We took a night away from Salt and drove up through the hills leaving the Cote de Beaune area for the Cote de Nuits and spending a night at the Hotel de Vougeot in the village of, you guessed it, Vougeot.  The weather was an uncooperative low-cloud misty Seattle kind of day which almost erased the awe factor in the sightseeing department.  We were hoping a visit to the Chateau Vougeot would shed some light on the many Grand Crus we had sent home from this region, but, alas, the Chateau is now just a museum.

With our sights set on our Paris flat, and Pepper loaded with wines for the month, we headed up to Paris staying four nights at the perfectly located Camping Bois de Boulogne.  Knowing we had a month ahead of us to “do” Paris from the comfort of a warm flat, we used all our days at the campground to prep Salt & Pepper for their boat trip home—more on that in the next Musings. 

I am quite behind in my blog postings but having arrived in our flat all I can find time to do is walk and walk and walk.  Ok, and shop.  And shop.  And maybe just one more shop.

-K

Scenic Drive Movie - Col du Petit St. Bernard, Italy & France - Oct. 2012

Better late than never (yes, I am way behind in my posts but now that we are sequestered away in our charming Paris flat, I should begin to catch up!) 

A scenic drive across the Col du Petit St. Bernard from Italy into France, including a quick look at a mobile milking station!

-K

Bourg St. Maurice, French Alps, France – Oct. 14-18, 2012

More pictures here!

It was our first return stop on the Aventura and it felt like home.  What a difference it makes to an experience to be surrounded by the familiar; everything seemed so easy.  Automatically we knew where to find our favorite bread, groceries, phone recharging stores and hiking maps. 

And we knew just where to stay; our favorite campground, L’Eden de la Vanoise.  Unfortunately they had closed for the shoulder season (between summer and winter) preparing to reopen in mid-December.  So we parked Salt at the near empty Camping Le Versoyan and enjoyed the ability let the Noses run free right from the door and into the miles of hiking paths just outside the gate.  This campground also has the benefit of being right in Bourg; walking to town took only 15 minutes.

And what a treat to see our beloved French Alps changed into fall colors!  The bright green up the alpine pastures had moved into a lovely gold with the trees at lower elevations showcasing various colors from bright yellow to deep red.  It was beautiful particularly after the first snowfall which arrived on our first night and stayed for three days in the higher elevations.

Having spent so many glorious hours in the mountains last July we were anxious to get back up there.  Opting for a new valley, we headed toward Val D’Isere stopping at Bon Conceil to begin our hike to Le Monal, a protected hamlet delightfully set in the most stunning valley we have yet come across; a Must See if you are in this area.  (You might be relieved to know that our back country trips are now over so you will no longer have to read the phrase, “the most stunning valley we have yet come across”--at least until we arrive in Colorado.) 

We spent our second hiking day driving all the way to Val D’Isere, a ski town much like all the others throughout these valleys, but striking once you leave the town and head toward the Vanoise National Park.  Sadly, dogs are not allowed in the park so we failed to get much hiking done, but we did stop at the Lac du Chevril on the way home and pulled out four (yes four!) trout-looking fish (their aqua blue backs when in the water almost instantly changed to midnight blue when on land making me think they might be Artic Char.)  I simply labeled them Delicious.

With our Paris flat beaconing and the burgundy wine region still ahead we could only stay four nights.  Next stop Beaune, and the various wineries surrounding the area.

-K

DITL - Tour de France (Stage 11) - July 2012

A Salt & Pepper Adventures! Production - join us we as catch Free Stuff while waiting to see the riders zoom by during Stage 11 of the Tour de France.

-K

Presset Refuge & The Final Days in Landry, France – July 19-22, 2012

More pictures here!

I can’t believe that we stayed another three weeks in one spot, but that is what France will do to you.  Now I understand why so many Europeans vacation here:  Between the beaches and the mountains France has it all covered—much like California.  And, just like California, when the tourist season hits full swing the charming small towns become crowded and, at least to us, less attractive.  So we are heading off to Switzerland tomorrow but not before a quick recap of our final days.

We accomplished one last long hike up to Lac Presset and the Presset Refuge, almost nine miles round trip (14 KM.)  The trail starts out with a gradual but constant incline until you are just past the Refuge de Balme (temporarily closed for construction) and then increases in intensity until you are clambering hand over foot the final ½ mile straight uphill.  But the reward is supendous:  A small, sparkling clear lake with a great view of Pierra Menta and the mountains behind La Plagne as well as a charming Refuge including refreshments served by the two cutest waitresses in all of France.  (See picture link above—I wish I had video-taped the encounter so priceless was their dedication and earnest desire to serve.)

After a short break we hiked over to the Col du Brussard where we could see down the opposite valley all the way to Beaufort.  A couple of days later, while dining at La Pierra Menta Bar & Restaurant overlooking Lac Roselend (delicious and traditional Savoie food including a dessert recipe from their grandmothers which was out of this world but, as they waitress said, “You have to like figs”), we realized we were gazing up at the Pierra Menta from the opposite side of the mountain and actually sitting adjacent to the valley we had looked down upon the other day.  It is just as stunning from either side, although the Lac Roselend view also includes Mont Blanc (and less tired legs.)

SP managed to end his fishless-ness by catching (what I think) is an Arctic Chard during our time at Lac Roselend but I came away empty.  We stopped in a couple of promising looking pools along the river on the way home but yielded nothing more.  Knowing that there were a handful of children awaiting the arrival of Rosco and River for the evening walk, we packed in our poles and headed home.

I didn’t think River’s life would get better following her evening in Antibes but it sure has:  Started by two of our neighbor’s kids, we now have a circle of six vying for walking and petting time.  At any given moment River can be found laying down with two to four hands all petting her.  The (darling) kids also pet Rosco of course, but he doesn’t relish the attention quite like River.  Indeed, eventually he will look so longingly at the front door that we’ll let him in to sleep while River maintains the love-fest.

It is lucky for us that most Europeans are better educated than we are; it has been an unexpected delight to meet our neighbors in camp (all adjacent pitches have people from the Netherlands in them and they all speak English.)  Not only have they helped with the dog-walking instructions but we have also picked up tips on where to land in Switzerland following our quick stop in Geneva, and a Rabobank cap from an IBM’er who is so nice I forgive him for working with Oracle products.

-K  

Refuge Rosuel & Col de la Seigne, French Alps – July 15-16, 2012

More pictures here!

  

As hiking is the name of the game for us here, the next few posts will be primarily hiking related.  How could I possibly pass up writing about standing with one foot in Italy and one in France?!

For our prelude to the Hike to Italy (getting the legs going again after multiple days of sitting in a car) we opted for a short three miles up around the Refuge Rosuel.  We likely would have gone farther, but the trail continues into the Vanoise National Park where dogs are not allowed.  So we enjoyed our short hike and the awesome scenery while dreaming about what lay just over the pass in the National Park. 

Incidentally, the Refuge Rosuel looked to be one of the best we have seen.  Have I mentioned the Refuges here yet?  If not, a short note:  They are hosted bunk-houses (although some of them, like Rosuel, seem to have actual rooms) that you can stay in overnight, blankets and sheets included.  They all offer food and drink (often Leffe!) and are set in awe-inspiring locations making them an excellent and affordable way to see the mountains.  (Many hikers plan a route from Refuge to Refuge instead of carrying a tent and sleeping bag.)

After our warm-up hike we were ready to tackle the much longer Hike to Italy; we headed up the Valley of the Glaciers to the Col de la Seigne where you can stand with one foot in Italy and one in France while gazing at Mount Blanc.   It was a long four miles up, but well worth it.  My vote goes to France for the best views back down into the valleys, although Mount Blanc, with its brooding chunk of glacier, is quite impressive.

As for The Noses, they have discovered the sharp chirp of the Marmotte; when it sounds, they bound across the mountainsides and stick their noses as far down the holes as they possibly can.  Rosco always keeps one eye on us and finds his way back but River is 100% engrossed in the Marmotte Fiesta and we often have to meet her halfway.  As most of you know, River would gladly go home with any human; never having met one she didn’t adore (and vice versa.)  Thus, I worry about losing her.  On the other hand, Rosco is sure to come back to us as his view on humans is, “Better the devil you know.”

 -K

Antibes & Tour de France – July 10-13, 2012

More pictures here!

Usually when we stop for more than a week in one spot I quickly run out of news to post.  That is not the case with Week #2 in Landry, France.  Three (yes three!) good friends and a Tour de France sighting quickly added up to a very busy week.

The day after Judy left we packed The Noses into the Pepper and headed to the Cote d’Azur to meet up with Taylor & Cindy in Antibes.  As Google maps said it was only 5 ½ hours we thought we’d take a more scenic route down; leaving Salt behind, we started with a climb up through the Col de Petit St. Bernard and over into Italy.  Why wasn’t I making a scenic drive video?  Mostly because when I could tear my eyes away from the narrow, winding road, I just gaped at the incredible scenery.  It really is unfair of one country to have so much beauty.

On the other side of the Col we landed in La Thuile, Italy, a charming town in its own right, before jumping onto the motorway and heading straight down to the coast stopping only for some coffee--no one makes coffee like the Italians.

The drive eventually took us south along the Mediterranean coast, passing under (yes, unfortunately under) Monaco (this area is filled with tunnels, so the sightseeing was not what I was hoping for) arriving at the Vogue Hotel in Cap d’Antibes by 4:00 p.m. – 7.5 hours on the road.  A quick shower and we drove over to what will forever be called, “River’s Heaven.”

Taylor & Cindy were staying with some friends in a villa in Antibes; could it get better for The Noses than a palm tree filled yard (it was back to 30/90 down at the coast) with real grass and a fully fenced yard?  Oh yes it could:   All the people in the villa were dog lovers.  And I mean lovers.  Every time I looked for River she was either playing with people at the edge of the pool or laying under a palm tree being petted.  (Rosco, who most of you know doesn’t give a lick about affection, found his own heaven by routing through the garden in search of moles and then sleeping out in the pool house.)

We had a delightful candlelit dinner outside on the patio, complete with fresh flowers and intelligent conversation (all of which we could understand!) before having to drag River away.  I am quite sure everyone, including River, thought she should become the Villa Chien.  The following morning, when we stopped by to pick up Taylor and Cindy for our trip to Cannes, I let River loose at the gate and she bounded up the steps to receive her morning love; free from the apparently torturous experience of staying with us overnight.

The beaches in Antibes and Cannes were crowded beyond belief (like Main Beach in Laguna during the summer) and the restaurants and shops are more on the tacky side until you reach Cannes.  Cannes is Beverly Hills and the port at St. Barth’s rolled into one.  We filled up on our gorgeous car and yacht sightings before settling down to a delicious lunch in a small café tucked down a quiet side street.  As fun as the previous night was, it was a delight to have Taylor and Cindy to ourselves despite suffering, as most of us were, through our hangovers.

We headed back home via a faster route (back through Grenoble) but didn’t reach Salt until after 10.  The alarm went off at six and, still bleary-eyed we left for our Tour de France day.  We were parked by nine awaiting The Caravan.  Apparently, one of the biggest events in the Tour de France is this caravan of floats and cars that drive through at least an hour ahead of the race tossing free stuff out along the way.  We managed to score some Frisbees, cookies and candies as well as two newspapers which we cannot read.

The excitement grew as we heard the helicopters circling overhead (this leg being fully televised) and we knew the racers were just around the corner.  Being on a flat stretch, they whip by very quickly with a full contingent of police on motorbikes surrounding them.  One minute you are standing there and the next you are blasted by wind so strong it almost knocks you down and then they are past.  Thankfully the riders had already broken into two groups so I was slightly better prepared a few seconds later when it all happened again.

And just like that, they were past; we packed up and headed back to Salt.  It was a lot of waiting for very little action but I was glad we did it.  Nothing beats being at a live event with the energy and excitement of the crowd.  Much later, back at Salt, we watched the thrilling ending:  That guy crashed and then got back up and won the leg!  Amazing athletes.  With or without HGH.

Now we are looking forward to getting back into the hiking/fishing groove.   I am afraid I must make myself get on the scale today . . . but not until after my Pain au Raisin.

-K

Marseilles, Provence and the Verdon Gorge - June 26 - July 2, 2012

More pictures here!

Leaving Ax Les Thermes was made much easier when we learned that, in order to complete escrow on our Seattle home, we had to have documents signed and notarized by the US Consulate General in Marseilles.  What?  Sell a house?  Are we dreaming?  It all came up so suddenly (the house not even on the market) that we were struck mute and just stared at each other in disbelief.  But the shock quickly turned to excitement when the documents arrived so we quickly packed up and headed to Marseilles.

As you know by now, big cities are not really our thing especially with The Noses and temperatures in the 30/90’s.  So I was disappointed to find Marseilles not the quiet fishing village I had envisioned, but the teeming, hot and dusty second-largest city in France.  The city will be the Center of European Culture in 2013 and, likely as a result, has most of its streets under construction.  It was pure hell attempting to drive Pepper around so when we found the Sofitel Hotel and they suggested turning over the keys, we had our first glimpse of the luxury that awaited us inside.

I have raved about hotels before, undoubtedly they all seem much better when coming from living in 19’, but the Sofitel in Marseilles is simply an oasis.  The staff was incredible:   Finding us a dog sitter (for the paperwork appointment at the Consulate); the Concierge, Christian utilizing all his patience on the telephone with FedEx coordinating the paperwork shipment back to the US; and another Christian serving us (and The Noses) with humor and interest for two nights in the delightful lobby bar. 

I received a long-awaited and fabulous short French haircut in the salon and we both took advantage of some spa treatments.  There was a pool but we never seemed to find the time to get down there.  All too soon our visit had come to an end.  It was with heavy hearts that we checked out, walked into the wall of heat and began the torturous drive back through the city, returning to our safe but dusty Salt.

We had left Salt at the Ste. Victoire Campground in Beaurecuiel, just outside Aix en Provence, another disappointing city for me.  Like Marseilles, Ax en Provence is much larger than I anticipated and not the quaint little village you so often see portrayed in the movies—I think the adjacent rolling hills harbor the quaint villages, a vision not attainable when towing a caravan as will soon become quite evident.

Just by chance, when we left the Aix en Provence area with Salt, Snoopy led us down the wrong road (OK, the Snooper is useless outside of the UK, it doesn’t know what roads are ok for caravans!  After this disastrous drive we have finally [finally, finally] learned the lesson of using a regular old map) and we ended up amongst rolling fields of cultivated lavender.  People were parked all over the place, walking into the fields and taking pictures.  (We did not stop for pictures; we barely had room on the road to drive let alone pull over.)

After altering our route twice due to road signs specifying no caravans (again, unbeknownst to Snoopy), we ended up at a four-way junction.  One option said no caravans and the other two didn’t need a warning; they were barely larger than an alley.  Time to turn around.  Not easy . . . I got out, we walkie’d up (walkie-talkies are indispensable!), and, holding up traffic in two of the three options, we pulled into one alley, then backed Salt into the other alley and eventually were able to turn around.  Joy.  I must say, though, that the French are much more tolerant of unusual traffic occurrences (sadly, we did find the one driving issue they clearly hate, but that comes later), everyone just waved and smiled as I thanked them profusely.  Of course, many of them had their cell phones out and were taking pictures of Salt . . . she must be all over the Internet by now.

Despite my almost hourly request that we stop the foolishness of traveling the back roads of France and stay at the municipal site right off of the A15, we eventually wound our way to our campground, L’Aigle, outside Lake St. Croix in the small village of Aiguines.  My nerves were frayed, I tell you!  If it wasn’t for SP, we would never have reached the Gorge (at least with Salt in tow.)

Lake St. Croix is gorgeous (an incredible shade of aqua) and the Verdon Gorge is quite stunning; it is referred to as the Grand Canyon of Europe, although I would label it more the King’s Canyon of Europe.  Unfortunately for us, the hiking in the area is very difficult—the walls of the gorge are too steep to get down except for the most experienced hiker (we reached a point one day where, in order to continue, you would have to hold onto a rope while backing down the slippery stone wall; we may have tried this on a dry day and without The Noses, but thankfully it was raining.) 

We did accomplish one great hike along the ridge to Le Grand Marges where we could see the entire canyon from end to end but, alas, not down to the gorgeous river bottom.  The hike up to and along the crest was a treat for the senses as the hills are filled with wild lavender making the air (as well as The Noses after their patented crazy dog in the meadow) a delight to smell.

Still anxious to see the canyon floor, on our last day we rented a small electric boat from the shores of Lake St. Croix and cruised up into the canyon.  What a refreshing treat!  Particularly the quick dip I took before heading back in. 

After three nights we were ready to tackle the chore of getting back onto the small roads and head up to the French Alps.  This time I spent the morning pouring over maps (electronic and paper) and painstakingly writing out our course.  We only had 350 KM to the next spot, but Snoopy thought it would take seven hours, that gives you an idea of the types of roads on which we were to travel.

We did have some nice relaxing time on the toll highways (happy to pay tolls for those smooth, wide lanes!) except for the first one where, with no cash and the machine not accepting any of our credit cards, I had to push the help button and explain our situation over a loud speaker.  A very loud speaker.  Cars were lined up behind us when, about three minutes later, they gave up and lifted the gates.  We immediately pulled over and SP walked back to the office in an attempt to pay.  The office was closed.  I stood outside Salt trying to calm my nerves while the long line of cars proceeded past, with three motorists shouting (what I imagine were) expletives.  That is how we discovered what makes a French driver yell.  We owe France €5.60.  (By the way, all the other toll machines had no problem taking our various credit cards.)

I don’t usually talk about roads much, (may your guiding light help you if you ever try to follow our route!) but if you are ever in the area, the trip up the E712 toward Grenoble, although slow, is stunning.

Now we have landed in Landry, a small town at the foothills of the French Alps, at the Flower Campground L’Eden de la Vanoise.  Our pitch has a view of snow-capped peaks out the front door, a river running along behind us, fresh pastry at the office every morning and a full hook up! (Don’t ask me which one I appreciate more just yet.) 

We have multiple hikes lined up and the possibility of seeing three good friends so it should be a fabulous couple of weeks!

-K

PS:  Since I know some of you worry about The Noses, here is The Dog Sitter’s Report:  Rosco sat and stared at the door the entire time we were gone (2.5 hours), River took a nice long nap then played with the sitter.  The sitter said she tried to get Rosco to play, but he wasn’t interested.  No surprises there.

DITL - Backpacking (Wild Camping) Etang de Comte, French Pyrenees

Spend two days with us on our backpacking (wild camping) trip to Etang de Comte in the French Pyrenees. Gorgeous scenery and some almost-wild horses!


June 15-16, 2012

-K

Ax Les Thermes, France, Part Deux – June 17-24, 2012

More (stunning) pictures here!

Fearing that the memory of a place is often better than a renewed experience, it was with some trepidation that we returned to Ax Les Thermes; but it was only the tug of the Aventura that made us pull away after sixteen days.  Our final days here were filled with awe, in particular the hike to Etangs Noir and Bleu off of the Col de Pailheures and a chance bonfire celebration in the town center.

The hike, well documented in the picture link above, was simply stunning.  I sat at our first break, gazing across the valley to the numerous peaks and said to SP, “Surely this is one of the most beautiful spots on Earth.”  We have seen some stunning scenery on our various hikes in various countries, but for me, none tops the view from the pass down to the Etangs Noir and Bleu.  Definitely a Must See if you are in the area and in reasonable shape.  (The hike from the parking area to an excellent view spot is only 1.5 miles but took us an hour—I am a slow hiker.)

Our second awesome experience started as a long-hike day but sadly we couldn’t fulfill that goal as the Orlu National Reserve does not allow dogs on the trails.  Heading back through town, we noticed a stage being constructed and some chairs being set outside in one of the main squares.  So that evening, too lazy to make dinner, we opted to head back toward all that activity.  It turned out to be the Feu de la St. Jean, clearly a festive occasion for the locals.

When we arrived for dinner, there was a DJ playing great dance music (at least half of which was American, including Prince [!] and MJ) and we watched as people cut loose.  In particular, we watched one couple who was clearly doing the Texas Two-Step to a number of songs (and, amazingly, tempos.)  At a break, we approached them (OK, I dragged SP over) assuming they were from Texas and we might actually be able to have a conversation.  In addition to the Two-Step hint, they had on blue-jeans (real ones, not the faded, lined and ripped “fashionable” ones), the lady sporting cowboy boots and the gentleman wearing a Route 66 t-shirt.  I was giddy with anticipation.

Turns out they were from Paris.

Fortunately, their English was much better than my French and we learned that they had visited various places in America, including Texas where they learned to two-step.  On a holiday themselves, they were thrilled to have happened upon this celebration and a chance to work out their moves.  They were a delight.

During dinner we also made note of the numerous men walking around in long-sleeved black shirts, occasionally sharing nips from a leather wrapped flask.  But during the dancing, they were nowhere to be found.  When the DJ music ended (or so we thought) people began moving toward the Casino and, thankfully, SP suggested we head over. 

Turns out there was a giant pyre being prepared for lighting and, lo and behold, the men in black were at the top of the stairs singing glorious spiritual songs.  (Yes, my French is bad, but my Italian, which is what it sounded like, is even worse.)  All I know is that they sounded wonderful.  There was a short break in the singing while they lit the pyre and the bonfire shot sparks up into the dark night.  What an incredible sight!  You would never see this in California (where most towns don’t even trust the people with sparklers on the 4^th of July); a giant open fire with children playing not 20 yards away, and only a flimsy barrier to separate.  The fire was so large and so hot that I had to keep backing away.  The chorus returned to singing as we all gazed at the flames, a short video of which can be seen here:

Thus ended our last weekend in Ax-les-Thermes; it was one of the towns that we discovered during the Great Recon Mission (see previous postings for more details) and one that made us sure we wanted to do the Aventura so we could “stay as long as we want in one spot.” 

How wonderful that occasionally new experiences outshine even great memories.

-K

Backpacking to Etang de Comte, French Pyrenees – June 15-16, 2012

More pictures here!  (Plus a DITL movie of this adventure will be coming when I can get a strong internet connection.)

Having found a safe spot to rest Salt (the aforementioned Le Malazeou campground) we decided to test our backpacking endurance with a two night trek into the French Pyrenees.  Usually our well-planned, well-stocked backpacking trips end early due to weather; they have never ended early due to a mammalian attack.  But I am getting ahead of myself.

We parked at the Etang de Comte parking area just outside the town of Merens-les-Vals and commenced the gorgeous two-mile hike to our camping spot above the lake.  Having done a portion of this trail as a day hike a few days ago, we were well prepared for the almost vertical first ½ mile.  But the effort pays off nicely when you reach the alpine meadow and take in the sparkling river tumbling around brightly colored wildflowers.  Rosco upped the enjoyment by jumping in for an early swim.

We arrived at the Etang around 5:00 p.m., carefully herding The Noses around a group of wild horses grazing at the shoreline, and selected a tent spot on the hill overlooking the water.  There were four or five other tents around the lake, their occupants already out fishing.

I set about getting our tent, the North Face Minibus 2, up while SP gathered wood for our fire.  Yes!  A camp fire!  We haven’t had one since the Shasta/Trinity area of Northern California last November.   With the fire going, SP went down to the shore to try a few casts while I kept an eye on The Noses who, thanks to being upwind, had yet to discover the proximity of the horses.

Unfortunately, backpacking food (i.e. dehydrated) is difficult to come by out here; I doubt the French language  includes a phrase for “rehydrate your dinner in a tin cup, sit on the ground and eat while balancing the cup on your knee.”  It sure wouldn’t be their cheery, “Bon Appetit!”  But eat we had to do, so we reheated some spaghetti bolognaise and reconstituted packages of instant mashed potatoes and asparagus soup for dinner.  Unbelievably, SP had discovered marshmallows at the store so we ended the meal with fire toasted marshmallows.  (Can’t recommend the pink ones as they tasted like strawberry, but the white ones tasted like home.)

With the weather due to be clear for three days, we opted to crawl into the Minibus without the rain fly so we could gaze at the stars.  However, we were so tired we couldn’t wait for the complete dark (at 10:00 it was still light) and promptly fell asleep.  Much later we awoke, put on our glasses, and gazed up in wonder; The Noses contentedly snoring away in the corner. 

Near dawn River’s snoring turned to growling and I peeked out to see the horses at the edge of our camp and moving in.  We managed to shoe them away (literally, by smacking SP’s thongs together) and they trotted up the hillside.  Once they were far enough away, or so we thought, we let The Noses out.  River, who never forgets a nasty smell, charged right up the hill after them.  They didn’t take kindly to her obnoxious barking and moved further up to the ridge where they took a stand and spent the morning looking down on us.  River kept them in line with an occasional Charge and Bark, but clearly they were just biding their time.  

The weather was as lovely as promised so we set about preparing for our day hike up to the Etang de Couart.  Putting the rain fly on the Minibus, we stored our extra food, clothes, and the stove inside for safekeeping and headed up the mountains.  What a grueling hike!  After two hours and over a mile of rocky uphill (some steps higher than my knees!) we were exhausted and stopped for some lunch and fishing.  Fishless no more; I landed a Brook Trout quite quickly and SP managed to land a Brown.  So we cleaned the fish, packed them in some icy water and headed back down to camp.

Coming down the mountain we had a clear view of the Etang and our campsite.  To our dismay we could see that the horses were over for a visit.  We scampered down as quickly as we dared, hoping the herd was not destroying our site.  Tired, we stumbled into camp to find our beloved Minibus ripped open.  Somehow the fly wasn’t damaged--merely tossed to the side, but the netting was ripped in two places and the stench of manure and urine was overpowering.  My clothing bag had been dragged out, the deodorant crushed (do wild horses think everyone should smell as badly as they do?) and the dog packs were strewn around.  Maybe they had been after the dog food?    

In any event, staying another night was out of the question.  The stench, the additional flies and the lack of tent netting would have made sleeping impossible.  So, tired as we all were, we packed everything up, put the fish in fresh icy water and headed back to the Pepper.

We made it back to Salt by 7:00 p.m., still plenty of light in these long, gorgeous days of summer; we showered and headed to the campground’s restaurant (La Marmotte) for a delicious and easy dinner with a good dose of house wine.

I have long championed the virtues of day hiking over backpacking.  It will undoubtedly take us awhile to find a new Minibus; until then, we will get in as many day hikes as possible, preferably without horses. 

-K

PS:  We thought the horses were wild until we noticed two of them sporting  bells around their necks.  Clearly they are free to range all over the mountains, but also clearly, someone wants an occasional update on their whereabouts. 

Ax-les-Thermes, France (Part One) – June 9-14, 2012

More pictures here!

During the The Great Reconnaissance Mission of 2010 we spun down the mountains from Andorra and discovered Ax-les-Thermes peacefully nestled along a river and boasting a number of hotels that fit our budget (for that trip under €100/night)--not to mention a number of patisseries.  Being so close to the plentitude of dog-friendly hiking in the area it immediately made our list as a Must Return with Salt.  (Note that dogs are not allowed in the French National Pyrenees Park further west.)

So we did our due diligence and visited a number of local caravan parks, discovering one just west along N20, Le Malazeou, with a lovely, one-mile pedestrian path along the river linking it back to Ax.  (I am hoping a two-mile walk to my daily pain au raisin may just keep me from gaining too much weight.) 

This is where we find ourselves today; pitch 612 (not that there are 600 pitches), with the river along the front door and just steps from the satellite shower block which, it turns out, plays an important role in our stay.

First, the practicalities:  We have discovered only one campground with full hook-ups in the area, a municipal camp, 1 kilometer or so from the town of Merens-les-Vals, on the N20.   As you know by now, we would have chosen a full hook-up pitch over everything had we known it existed (we didn’t find it on our prior Recon Mission), except that you cannot walk into Ax.  You can walk into Merens, but it is decidedly not a cute town. 

We have electric at our pitch and they offer a motor vehicle waste disposal area (no hoses which we find quite odd) the use of which would require us to hitch up Salt, drive to the top of the campground, dump then try to turn around and bring her back down.  Not an impossible chore but not an enjoyable day out either.  Luckily, just a few kilometers up the N20 is a Carrefour with an Aires de Service area, including hoses (usually €6 per use.)  So when the time does come we will pull Salt up there and clean her out—at least turning around will be easy.

However, to minimize our trips to the dump area, we decided to try utilizing the shower block for more than just showers.  It turns out I quite enjoy doing the dishes over there (for vegetable prep I still prefer Salt—it’s just faster.)  But the dish washing area is quite the social spot.  I often learn a new French word or two but more often get to hear the praises of Salt.  She is quite a hit here, appearing, I am sure, in many people’s pictures of their family vacation in Ax.  The [very helpful and bi-lingual] office staff mentioned that “everyone” wants to talk about Salt when they visit the office.  I think this has helped us secure our pitch for almost a month, even when it is approaching the "Must Have a Reservation" time in France.

But back to the fun!  We have had two incredible hikes, the scenery is even better than we imagined it would be, although the weather (and then often the scenery) changes on a dime.  During our first hike toward Etang de Compte we had glimpses of wildflower filled meadows leading up to icy peaks before being rushed out of the valley by the rain.  On our second hike, our breath was taken away twice:  Once when hiking above 2001 meters near the Col de Pailheres (must get in better shape!) then again when struck by the view down to the Etang de Noir, just moments before the clouds rolled in. 

Both areas are on the list for upcoming backpacking trips.  (That’s “wild camping” to my European readers.)  I recorded a short video of the overlook with the clouds rolling in but will need to locate a stronger internet connection before I can upload it.

  

Speaking of backpacking, we decided we had better set up our tent as we purchased it just prior to leaving Laguna (September 2011) and haven’t used it once.  So back at camp, we managed to get it up in record time even while constantly pushing Rosco back—he loves a good tent nap after a long hike.  

Our North Face Minibus 2 is just as cute as ever, so cute that I looked at SP and said, “I think I’ll sleep out here tonight!”  And so it happened:  Our first night under different roofs in nine months.   The Noses, of course, were with me in the tent; Rosco because he would have been devastated to have missed out and River because I didn’t trust that SP would kick her off our bed in Salt.  A dangerous precedent as we both slept so well we might be hauling out the tent more often than not!

And so we settle into what might be our favorite spot so far.  There will be many more pictures coming (hopefully starring some fish!) and at least one DITL hiking video.

-K

PS:  We dropped into a sports store to ask about fishing and ended up purchasing our licenses.  The already helpful man became indispensable when he brought out his laptop and we commenced to converse via Google Translate.  (By the way, a fishing license for me was only €30, but SP’s was €85—I guess they don’t think women will fish as often.  Or, perhaps, as successfully.)

St. Emilion, France, & Hondarribia, Spain – Apr. 20-21, 2012

More pictures!

I was apprehensive our first day driving with Pepper’s new transmission.  Call it gun-shy I guess, but every little bump in the road made my heart skip a beat and my stomach lurch.  But hit the road we did!  We got a late start out of Tours, France and began heading south toward San Sebastian, Spain around noon.  Knowing we were not likely going all the way to Spain in one day, we opted to stop in one of our 2009 Reconnaissance Mission’s Must Return areas, the Bordeaux wine region.

Now, some of you might not know about our Reconnaissance Mission:  In the Fall of 2009 we flew over (without the dogs and caravan) to Barcelona, rented a car and drove up into France, measuring roads and visiting campgrounds along the way.  Ha!  We thought this would prepare us for the big adventure.  I might have to start an entirely new blog just for the Things We Thought We Knew or better yet, Things We Didn’t Think to Ask.

Anyway, back to our drive:  During my driving shift, SP hunted us up a Municipal Camping site along the river Dordogne, Camping la Plage, so we set Snoopy to its coordinates.  First, a few words about our new GPS device, whose real name is The Snooper:  It has the ability to store the width and length of your rig and [is supposed to] direct you on roads suitable to your size.  Apparently we define suitable a little more generously than Snoopy as he often directs us onto very small, winding roads with barely enough room to squeeze one car let alone two.  (At times like these, we refer to him as Snoop Dog.) 

But follow him we did and around 4:00 we left the motorway and headed into the rolling, grapevine covered hills.  Snoopy led us into the charming town of Saint Seurin de Prats and then along the Dordogne River to the completely empty, and disappointingly closed, campground.  (Snoopy also has the ability to provide information on campgrounds nearby, including opening dates, but you have to actually read the information he provides.  Ahem, I was the driver not the navigator, that’s all I’m saying.)

We let the dogs run around the fields for a while then jumped back in and followed Snoopy back across the Dordogne (twice) up and down rolling hills, on tiny roads, in the rain.  The few times I managed to peel my eyes from the road (and I was just the navigator by now!) the scenery took my breath away.  Even in the pounding rain, the loveliness of the Dordogne River Valley doesn't miss an opportunity to enthral.   


After another hour on the winding roads and unable to locate campground #2, we decided to head to St. Emilion, a stone city situated on top of a hill.  Having been here during The Reconnassaince, we knew there was a bus parking area and if we had to we could stop for the night there.  However, Snoopy located an open campground (Domain de la Barbanne) about 3 kilometers from the town so we pulled in--a good two hours after leaving the motorway.  For those of you who know this area, I am sure you are laughing right now!  (St. Emilion is usually attained via a quick, non-pulse rising, 15 minute drive off a major motorway.) Aventura baby.

We thought we might spend two nights in St. Emilion after such a late, exhausting arrival but found ourselves the following morning standing in the rain, stocked with wine, cheese and fresh pictures of the town all before noon.  Time to continue our mission south and find some sunshine.

Again, I was still a little nervous riding as a passenger on Day 2 but remembering that I had felt better when driving on Day 1, we swapped and I was able to relax.  That is until SP spoke the words every trepedatious traveler wants to hear, “How adventurous do you feel?”

Seems that SP and Snoopy had conspired to locate us a spot via “Camper Stop”, a program on the device that lists areas (often parking lots) where you can camp for little or nothing overnight.  These stops usually don’t have water, bathrooms or electricity so you have to be completely self-contained.  But that’s why we bought Salt and added solar panels; the ability to stop and be completely self-sufficient at least for a few days.

So Snoopy directed us to a beach-front location in Hondarribia, just north of San Sebastian, Spain.  Driving in, we noticed ten or so RVs all parked at the rear of the lot and all close together.  Not enjoying crowds, we opted to be on the far side of the lot, parking so our door opened a few feet from the beach.  We were in heaven!  However it was only 3:30--a little early to stop driving for the day; we dragged our feet around until it was 4:00 then we ruled Carpe Pitchem and parked for the night. 


The sun came out which was nice not only for us and The Noses (as they raced around on the sand), but also for the many by-standers staring at Salt.  She is quite a hit over here—indeed, we haven’t seen another Airstream since leaving Gold RV in the UK.

This parking lot happened to have a faucet so we loaded another five gallons into our fresh tank and settled in for the night.  SP made Morrocan Poached Eggs for dinner—I just love it when he cooks, we always get something unusual and delicious. 

If the weather had been better we surely would have stayed another day, however the next morning dawned with clouds and more rain so we set off again.   Ever moving southward . . .

-K

Musings – On When *#$! Happens on the Road - Apr. 22, 2012

Repair pictures here!

As you know by now we encountered some issues on our drive south from Jumieges, France landing a crippled Pepper and a one-windowless Salt in Tours.  Once the breakdown began, I realized how quickly two smart people can go from making good decisions under reasonable stress to making poor ones under extreme stress.  It got me thinking that maybe that’s why some of life’s bad experiences just get worse and worse; compounding bad experiences with bad decisions, ultimately creating more bad experiences. 

When we initially felt the Pepper shaking (much differently from the other day’s wheel balance issue; this shake only came with acceleration), we pulled off the A10 to check it out.  That’s when we discovered the missing window.  Thinking (ok, hoping) that the missing window might have been causing the shake, we taped it up and set back toward the A10.  Is that smart?  Was that even logical?  Not really.  That, my friends, is what Wishful Thinking looks like in France.

Pepper restarted shaking almost immediately upon acceleration so we turned around and headed to the first motel that we had passed--the dropping of Salt becoming our #1 priority as we feared that Pepper might stop moving altogether.  I jumped out to check us in and just didn’t like the feel of the place:  The door was locked but included a sign directing you to register yourself at a machine.  I made an executive decision that we would take a deep breath (or six) and sit in the parking lot until we found a more decent place to stay.  Was that smart?  Was that logical?  Quite.   Could that have been the turning point; the point at which I stopped the cycle of reacting badly to a bad experience?

A few minutes later we located the Mercure Hotel, Tours Nord and slowly made our way over.   My stress level immediately dropped about 10 points upon entering the bright, crisp lobby and being greeted by a very helpful (and, thankfully, bilingual) clerk.   (If you can believe it, my French becomes even worse under stress.) I explained our issues (broken-down car, towing a trailer, two dogs) and she assured me that we could stay for a few days, parking Salt in their bus parking area.  In less than three minutes I had a key and was back out the door.

Stopping what could have been a very bad decision (the Quick Palace Motel--see what I mean?) turned out to be pivotal in our ability to cope with our issues.   I can’t say enough for the staff at the Mercure; everyone at the desk was incredibly helpful (one lady even called Porsche to check up on Pepper, although I don’t think she used his proper name) and the fast internet was our lifeline to finding hardware stores for Salt's repair. 

Our room was perfect but Salt’s was even better:  The bus parking area provided a great spot for the construction of Salt’s temporary Plexiglass window.  A new window will catch up with us in Portugal, thanks to Airstream UK, but in the meantime Salt looks great and is back to being waterproof, what more could you ask for?

-K