A Day in the Park

We had heard that a day along Canal Saint Martin and Parc de la Villette would be a fun filled day of watching hundreds (Maybe Thousands) of French people frolic in the park. As it turns out only some of that is true. We'll start at the end. . . In the Parc (Park). It was gigantic, but unlike the travel writers had promised there was hardly anyone there. Now, when one sets out to go people watching it requires lots and lots of people. The day was glorious, the weather calm and dry and partly sunny and church was out (Actually that makes no difference as the French don't go to church.) still no one showed up. We high tailed it to the nearest Metro and made for Place de la Republique. Now this what we are looking for. . . .dozens of nationalities,(Mostly getting along) hundreds (Maybe Thousands) of people and the required demonstration going on just to keep things interesting. This one had the Jews and the Palestinians going at it right in the center of the square. No, not real fighting, of course, but lots of yelling and name calling, etc. It was delightful. Other than that it was spectacular: Kids on skateboards, families with babies, families with Grandma and of course the young people setting under trees groping each other. All in all a fine day in the park. 

But back to the walk along Canal Saint Martin. Along the way we encountered a wild and crazy street market that topped them all for variety, freshness, rowdiness and ethnicity. Once again, mostly they are all getting along , but it is loud, rowdy, dirty and crowded. We waded in just to see if we could survive the onslaught of the senses (Smells, yelling, odors, noise, shoving, pushing and gesticulating) Now, normally we buy lots of stuff at these markets, but this time we considered ourselves lucky to just come back out the other end. We did. We're having a great time! I'll try and post a picture, but Paula says, "It doesn't show the hectic, frantic nature of the place.". . . But seriously, we couldn't just pull the camera out any old place, (it was safe . . . sort of) but finally Paula snapped this one of some apples! They looked delicious.

That Great Big Organ

We walked in without warning (They didn't know we were coming) and within seconds the Great Organ of St. Sulpice cranked up! This is no ordinary Pipe  Organ. It is one of the grandest in all the world and we arrived just in time for Organ Practice. So, if you've never heard a Great Organ really wind it up get out there, buy a ticket to Paris, and come listen to this baby. There is nothing that quite compares to one of these monsters being wound up tight by a master keyboardist.(Remember, I've been to a Bobby Seger Concert) Really, just go buy the tickets. We're here till the end of the month. You can't stay with us, but we'll show you where the organ is. BTW, this is he church where Victor Hugo got Married, just in case you're wondering about that. I know I was.
Dinner, as with all dinners in Paris, was outstanding. The most notable thing was the (Wait for it . . . ) the Dessert! It was a giant wedge of what we used to call, "Victorias" (Actually we still call them that) . . .basically, it is CHOCOLATE! What more do you need to say? Okay, it is in a pastry crust thingee, but that is really unnecessary as the Chocolate is all that matters. You should look it up and try it. If you can't find the recipe email me when we get home.
Now we are returned from our wanderings and promising to be nicer to ourselves tomorrow. We're thinking the Canal Saint Martin. Duane is still thinking that Sunday would be a grand day to climb the North Tower of Notre Dame, but he's probably wrong. If those bells go off while he's up there his hearing is ruined forever!

Who wears high heels to the Park?

This is a twist on song from the 50s, "Who wears Short Shorts" . . . The answer, in this case is,"French Women." Not all of them, of course, but more than a few. Luxembourg Gardens offers up more than a few Fancy French Wonders. . . . Women in high heels, of course, grown men in suits, several French weddings and that Famous French PDA. I suppose young people all around the world are groping each other with wild abandon, but few do it better (Or more often) than the French. A walk through a French park reveals the many options for jumping your partners bones in public. One couple we witnessed stopped in mid dinner to go for it right in the middle of a restaurant. Actually we are in favor of all of this PDA. It just has to be a good thing. Or, as the Beatles said, "Love the One  you're With." The French understand this.
While Paula was in buying some "Skin Products" Duane spied a Men's store with a colorful display  in the window. Apparently, the hottest fashion trend for men in Paris is wide wale corduroy trousers. That is not the interesting thing. The interesting thing is the colors. . . .Deep Purple, Orange Orange, Kelly Green, Royal Blue, Mint Green, Bright Red and last, but not least. . . Sunflower Yellow. Duane had his Gold Amex Card out for the whole stack before he remembered he lives in Arizona. Sorry, you'll not get to see the Cords, but trust me, they were Spectacular! I love the French. Any man with the gumption to wear Yellow cords is a friend of mine! Just NOT in Arizona.
We walked our socks off today. Despite promises (To Ourselves) not to do that ever again, we did it again! Walking around Paris I'd just the easiest and BEST thing to do. The distance walked just sneaks up on you and all of a sudden your legs are a quivering mass of jelly. We barely made it back to the Apartment. Luckily we had planned ahead and there was Wine! All is well!
Tonight we're eating out as the chef is too tired to stand. Odd as it may sound, we're going to an Italian restaurant. It just seemed like the right thing to do. When we get home, and if I can still spell, I'll add more . . . Maybe even some pics. Gotta go . . . One can't just prance into a French/Italian restaurant without some serious prep time. Duane's thinking it is "White Shirt Time!". . . He may even wear some fancy socks.

Because it's There

Someone once asked the silly question, of Edmond Hillary, "Why do you climb mountains?" . . . The answer, as you all know is, "Because it's There!"  . . . It is the same with Paris. It is here and we must go. As you all know this is our 5th or 6th visit (and probably not our last). Still we find every day a complete joy, regardless of what we do. Today we slept late, ate some Poilane toast for breakfast and then hoofed it around the old neighborhood (Marais) (No Pictures). A few hours later we stopped in a delightful little park for some people watching time and then on to the Jewish quarter to check in on the relatives, followed by a few beers before a leisurely stroll back to the apartment. Sorry about the scarcity of pictures. I promise it'll get better. Until then you'll have to get by with the written word.  The walk home, down rue Bretagne, included stops at no less than 6 shops to buy dinner. One for Chocolate and macaroons, One for a bottle of wine, One for a rotisserie chicken, One for veggies and a melon, One for a round of Goat Cheese, and one for the daily baguette. If you're so inclined (We're not) you can buy all of this at one store, but that takes all of the fun out of it. Unless interrupted by some unforeseen event we'll do this every day. We've already seen all of the "Must Sees" so we are now free to just "Be in Paris." As Paula said, "I can't think of a better way to spend a day."

When they get 'er cranked up. . . . .

When they get 'er cranked up she can really, really move! This morning we took the Thalys High Speed Train from Amsterdam to Paris. AmTrac trains may top out at 60 mph. The Thalys is just getting warmed up at that speed. Nobody is quite sure just how fast this baby will move, but Duane thinks about 500 kmph. Duane is wrong, of course, but trust me it goes really, really fast!! Check it out. . . . See, this is an interactive blog. Get busy!
After a brief delay (They never did tell us why) we arrived at our new home for the next 30 days, 7 rue Saint-Claude. Look that up on that googlemap thingee. You'll find us there. If you go to Street View you can see Paula peeking out from behind the fig tree on the patio. We're on the 4th floor, which is actually the the 5th floor cuz they start counting at zero. Duane found this out the hard way when he walked up the stairs!!! Duane is very determined to climb the 387 steps in the North Tower of Notre Dam, so a few more stairs to climb is nothing.
Our host, Olivier, met us and walked us through all the things one should know. Like don't lock yourself out, don't wear shoes in the apartment (164 year old hardwood floors), be sure to water his plants and don't smoke the funny plant on the patio. Olivier is a college professor (French Literature, what else?) who inherited this apartment from his Grandmother. Quite a dandy inheritance I would say; a 500+ square foot apartment in the hottest part of town. 500 sq. ft. may not sound like much, but in Paris it is HUGE!
Those bells are ringing again and I gotta go. No pictures tonight, I'll double up tomorrow if all goes well. Bonsoir.

Our room in Amsterdam

Our room in Amsterdam is is on the 3rd floor right on a corner above a very busy intersection. Going off in all directions from this corner are multiple "Walk" - "Don't Walk" lights and signs and attendant bells. Each one (and this is where the interesting part comes in) has a dinging bell affixed to tell you (If you are blind) when to walk and when NOT to walk. It dings constantly all day and all night. After two nights of constant dinging Duane is a little afraid that the next time he hears a bell he may just get up and walk off no matter where he is. Time will tell. Oh shit! The bell is dinging. I gotta go! Paris awaits. Luckily the train goes there.

The Rice Table

I'm back! I found the errant posting and am now feeling better about things. :0)
The Rice Table was extraordinary. as it turned out there were NOT 40  - 50 small bowls of goodies, only 10 - 12, but each one was outstanding. But enough about the food. Let's talk beer! Today I have had at least 3 different beers that these people are keeping all to themselves. Each one was better than the next! Whoever is in charge of this must get this fixed! Get on it! Holding out on the good ole USA is just wrong.
Tomorrow we leave for Paris and Duane is a little sad. Not because we're going to Paris ( I love that), but sad to leave Amsterdam. Paula seems to think we won't return. I told her she was wrong, but that may not hold. If we wait another 15 years I'll only be 85 and that should be about the right time to return. I'm going to leave you now and see if I have any better luck loading pictures. If not, we'll see you in Paris.

Vincent Rocks!

After about a thousand art museums the one that still knocks my socks off is Vincent's. I can't even fathom what made this man (Van Gogh) tick, but brother could he paint. Later in the day we saw a whole boat load of Rembrandt's masterpieces (Including Night Watch), but Vincent's are the ones that make me cry (With Joy!) if I have only one place to go before I die it'll be here with Vincent.
The weather report is "Friggin' Spectacular". . . We slept like drunken sailors and woke up (10 hours later) to bright blue skies. Tonight we get a "Rice Table" . . . Details might follow, but basically you get rice (Duh!) and then about 40-50 small bowls filled with every imaginable variety of delectables. some are recognizable, some aren't. Duane gets to eat all the unrecognizable things. Paula eats the bowls with chicken in them. This is an Indonesian speciality (the Dutch used to own Indonesia or something like that) and is so yummy you'll cry. If Duane cries it will be the second time today. He can't wait. When we get home I'll try again (I Promise) to post pictures.

Oh! Oh!

Oh! Oh! I posted a new post about 3 hours ago and now it is GONE! Amsterdam is getting on my last nerve! I do love writing these little stories, but writing them twice is not my idea of fun. So, with that in mind, I'm going to just post this and see where it goes. If I loose you I'll catch up in Paris.

Hello Amsterdam

August seemed like a safe month, but upon arrival in Amsterdam it was more like November. Cold, windy, wet and a bit nasty. Now, as you know there is a strictly enforced "No Whining" policy, so we're not whining, just providing weather report. Immediately upon arrival at our hotel were told it would take 15-20 minutes to get our room ready. This was at 7:45 AM. As it turned out we finally got in our room at 11:00. It would appear all that legal weed has destroyed the ability to calculate time, accomplish real work and finish a project. Hmmmmmmm? Even at 11:00 it took some serious intervention by outside partners to get us into a room. Then we proceeded to screw up and fell asleep for 3 hours! This is a No - No! Sleep is allowed on the first day, but only  30 - 45 minutes at the most. Now we are assured to be up until 10:00 or so and then up again at 3:00 AM. . . It's okay! We'll adapt! We're old, resilient, and adaptable. The good news is that by time we woke up the sun was kinda/sorta out and we jumped  on a a canal cruise boat to see the city. NICE! We were here 15 years for our 30th anniversary and all seems to be about as we left it. Amsterdam is a huge magnet for the youth of the world (I wonder why.) and they're still here. Both the ones that were here 15 years ago and the new 20 year olds. What a mix! Beyond that the real Dutch folks are still riding their bikes everywhere and looking for all the world like they're the happiest people on Earth! (I wonder why?) Now I have to see if I can download a picture. Hang on a minute. Thanks for waiting. Seems like that isn't going to work tonight. No pictures for you. Duane's famous patience just can't deal with this level of complication.
I can describe the photo I was going to post. . . It was a lovely picture of about 1,000,000 bikes all padlocked and waiting for someone to come and ride away.(Not us). It was a nice picture. The other one was of the Amsterdam Central Train Station bathed in late afternoon sunlight. It was stunning. Look it up on the www thingee. You know how to do that. That's it for today. The drugs are about to kick in and Paula wants the lights off. Bye for now! Tomorrow we go see Vincent's masterpieces. Duane is so excited he may not sleep at all. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Paula takes a break

Hiking (Yes we did!) up the Montmartre Mountain to Sacre Coeur is no small feat. Here Paula takes a break from Duane's relentless striding. You can tell by her "Are you kidding me?" expression that Duane has just suggested that we keep moving. It must be said that Paula is the ever resilient, ever strong ever cheerful travel companion. Ya just gotta let her rest from time to time. We made it!

Paula takes a break on the way to Sacre Coeur. 

Duane Votes with his feet.

Duane votes on Paris with a loud Oui Oui! Or for you with French language challenges, Whoop! Whoop. This picture, taken a few years ago is typical of the exuberance that Duane exhibits on a daily basis while in the City of Lights. I can't even remember what I'm so excited about, but the fact that I'm coming out of a Bar will give you a clue. The TABAC part is not important - The BAR part is!

Duane gives Paris the old "Fist Pump" . . Oui! Oui! 

Paula Thinks

Paula Thinks Duane needs to explain the above photo of Paula and Duane on a bridge in Lucerne, Switzerland. Well, it seems that, although we can never go back to Switzerland (An open warrant for Duane's arrest), this picture is simply Duane's favorite photo from 2013. Paula says, "We're going to France, can't you find a photo of us in That country?". . . .  "No." . . . So there you go. . . . . As has always been the case, the one who writes the blog gets to pick the pictures. It is a Good Rule. It is the same with punctuation and capitalization. . . . He who writes the blog gets to make up those rules too. Duane's High School English teacher is probably dead by now and she's the only one he's afraid of. Here's another photo of us somewhere other than France? ? ? ? ? ?

Dreamin' of a Paris Taxi

Some of the cameras (3) are loaded, some of the bags (4) are kinda packed and Paula has her iPhone programmed for France. One week to go and now all there is to do is dream of catching that Parisien   Taxi. We normally take the Metro or walk, but we've decided that taking a taxi on Day One is the way to go. After 20 years of travel we no lounger have to prove to ourselves that we're tougher than the other travel weenies. Duane is 70, after all, and has promised not to walk more than 5 - 10 miles a day. After that, it is Taxi Time. Now back to the 4 bags thing (surprised ya didn't I?). Those who know us know that we never take 4 bags. What Duane really means is 2 smallish bags (For socks, underwear, gloves and a stocking cap) and 2 tiny bags for the cameras, lip balm and sunscreen. That is all. Paula is taking along a change of clothes as she thinks they have no clothes in France. . . Now back to hailing that Taxi.

The Metropolitain

The Metropolitain is the Paris subway system, one of the best in the world. All over Paris one finds these spectacular signs announcing the entrance to "The Metro" . . . . . It makes you just want to jump on down and take a ride just to find out what the next sign looks like (Most of them are different).