MY TRIP TO FRANCE. Part Four: Heading West to Normandy

Wednesday May 30, 2012

Fourth Day

Leaving Paris after a fabulous breakfast. My choclat choud.

This morning we went to a café for breakfast.  A lovely French man served us (he was also owner and cook).  When Rachel told him I was her mom, be exclaimed, “Belle!”  He was warm, gracious and gave us a fruit dish for free, which he described in French that he cut up himself for us, and was so sweet in a romantic way to both of us.  He must have been my age and had black curly hair and was a bit heavier than Ric.

My view from our taxi.

We got a croissant, jam, baguette, and cocoa.  To describe each would require quite a bit of time for each was just delicious.  The cocoa, I will say was quite different from any I have ever had.  It is made by beating the hot milk while slowly adding cocoa.  Two packets of sugar lay on the plate beside the cup and I only added ½ of a bag.  It was bitter and lovely.

We are going between 30 and 40 miles per hour in this traffic. 

A few observations I have made in France.  One is that the public toilets are quite different than at home.  Males and females go into the same toilet room but there are stalls for men and stalls for women (Monsieur’s/Dames).  Most have doors for the men that are dark color and for women are pink.  One toilet had a pink seat and pink wallpaper in the tiny (and I mean tiny) stall.  Sometimes a steward is on duty to bring the patrons in as stalls become available, to manage the line and to clean ongoing.  Some cost money to use.

This is our train to Normandie.

Observation two is the bike lanes.  They are not along the road but along the sidewalks.  It is a matter of life and death that one be aware of its location and only cross it quickly and carefully.  Bicyclists are aplenty and go nearly the speed of cars.  They do not wear helmets and seem to weave into traffic intersections easily as if their life were in complete safety.  Aside from the accident we witnessed during our first hundred steps along the streets of Paris two days ago, we have witnessed too many close calls to count yet no other mishaps. 

Guarding the luggage and Facebooking...multi-tasking at its best. 

The traffic is indeed an art form.  Lots of aggression, honking, accelerating, but amazingly no true road rage.  Changing lanes is constant, though I have seen no one use a turn signal.  To be honest there is no time to do so, for one is in the next lane by the time you could get your hands to the signal lever.  The amount of braking and accelerating must provide copious amounts of repair work for their mechanics.  And they must keep them in god repair because they all brake on a dime by sheer necessity.  It appears that no one is polite and no one is rude.  Traffic moves in a natural flow and it seems everyone gets where they want to go.  Like weaving.  Like singing in parts.

Provincial France from my window.

Foot traffic seems much like this but the speed fluctuates.  The intersections (which Paris has many!) have signals for foot traffic while the cars have their own.  The cars go right up to the light pole and wait for the foot traffic to cross.  Foot traffic lights are on the opposite side of the street.  Rachel is constantly reminding me to wait for the green pedestrian light.  We decided that we would not follow a Parisian into a crosswalk on a red light.  We had seen too many Mr. Magoo moments!  She has had to watch me less closely lately since my attention to all of this has improved.

At the train station in Valognes.  These are the stairs we had to get our luggage up, across and back down!

Rachel and I rode a taxi to the train station.  We have all our luggage and are heading up to Normandy.  Inside the station we see people getting off and getting on trains and rushing to their next destination.  The weather is warm but inside the station either there are fans or the breeze comes through making the temperature so pleasant.  We leave in 17 minutes and can board now but Rachel is uploading pictures on Facebook as we sit atop our pile of luggage. 

Hotel in Valognes.  Our window is the one with the stars on the awning.

A very nice room.  Quite an upgrade for us!

Boarding the train was an experience.  We were in second class and so we boarded the proper car only to find the seat we had sat down in was assigned.  We checked our tickets and found no assigned seats written on them.  We were unsure as to what to do, and of course no one was around to help us.  Somehow we became informed that assigned seated tickets were to sit down first, then unassigned were to select from those that remained.  We had our entire collection of luggage stowed and were relieved to finally settle in seats near them.  Assigned seats had cards in the window slot above each seat.  It all worked out in the end and we even got to sit together. 

This is the courtyard of the hotel where we had many a "debriefing".

Aaron, Amy, John and Rachel in the rooftop garden.

        The views of Provincial France were so wonderful.  We took in the countryside at about 130 miles per hour (200kph), taking pictures as beautiful scenes zipped by. 

When we got to our stop, we had our luggage cued up for quick unloading so we wouldn’t get merely halfway off and the doors close leaving one of us behind!  We waited for the door to open, looked for a lever, wondered what to do as the clock was ticking away.  Rachel finally muscled the door open herself, I hopped out and in a quick couple of seconds we got all five bags out.  The train door shut and we were left out of breath on the station platform. 

A river running through the town. 

As the train pulled away, we saw that we must climb a flight of stairs, cross over the tracks on the footbridge and climb down the far stairs to the station office.  We gaped, then geared up for the assent.  Rachel carried the first load--her big suitcase and our small suitcases--all the way up across and down then into the office.  She took a deep breath, returned to my side again.  I had begun to the assent with my big suitcase and Rachel’s (glorified) fanny pack in my slow, two steps at a time, “save my back” way.  Rachel grabbed the plastic tote (VERY heavy) and my carry on and adopted my approach for the protection of the wheels more than her back. 

A home in town.  I could live in that house!!

We got them all in the tiny station and Rachel sought the code for internet connection so she could look up where our hotel was.  The clerk couldn’t understand any English and so became a bit of a trial.  At length she learned that no internet connection was available but an employee who knew enough English let Rachel look up the location on her I-phone. 

I had to photograph this tree with a moat!  Must be a very special tree.   

We took a cab to the hotel which was marked with a tiny, barely noticeable awning and a tiny sign.  The door was open and again we were met with a non-English speaking French man who tried to tell us the key to our room was gone; maybe we belonged at another Hotel.  He then went out to a young gentleman who was in his car talking on the phone.  He spoke English!!

We walked out to the city limits of Valonges. Pronounced Valonia.

Our room is a definite upgrade: two twin beds, twice the size, a shower door, instead of a curtain that sticks to you while you shower, nice white design on white wallpaper, and a lovely courtyard.  The picture taking opportunities abound as we keep finding passageways off the courtyard, one leading upward to the level of the rooftops where we discovered a yard with trees, the ground level to the gutters of surrounding buildings.  Some roofs are made of black shale slabs laid like our own composite roofs at home.  In fact that’s what I thought they were until we were up to them in the yard.  Other roofs have red clay tiles.  We could reach out and touch them.

Near our hotel is this raised and well maintained garden, along the street. We visited it every day we were there.

The team members consist of Noah, Aaron, Johnny and Rachel.  Johnny had brought Amy, his wife.  We ended up spending much of today with them.   When we got to the Hotel we all went to the rooftop garden and then went to find dinner.  (Rachel and I had last eaten at 9:30am and it was by now 5:00pm).  Every café was closed and wouldn’t open until 7:00pm (1900), so we went to the grocery store, "Shopi", and bought some baguettes, salami, cheese (a very milky kind that didn't taste very good), a tomato and all sat down back in the courtyard for a “snack”; for Rachel and I it was dinner.  We had a lot of fun conversation. 

I mailed three postcards home in this box.  Rachel taking a peek at the school.

Then we went walking, taking pictures, examining every interesting spot.  Johnny, Amy, and Aaron went to eat dinner so Rachel and I kept walking and walked around the church at the center of town.  We finally found the door which was locked.  So we returned home.  We said goodnight to the team and find ourselves good and tired!

This is from my travel journal.