Friday, June 29, 2012

MY TRIP TO FRANCE. Part Eleven: The Queen's Theatre


Wednesday, June 6, 2012     
Day Eleven



At the train station filling out customs forms.


Today is DDay.  It marks the day 68 years ago that the Allied Forces laid down their lives to take back the free world.

Looking for the EuroStar.  Very busy train station which serves the local and international routes.

By this time 68 years ago many Allied troops had died, but some key missions had already been accomplished.  Several more weeks of tremendous struggle faced them before victory would be ours.  The French remember and celebrate their gratitude. Thank you, France, for helping us in the Revolutionary War, and thank you for remembering DDay.



Ready to board.


Our whole day entails the trip to London and using our Kleenexes while watching Les Miserables.  We got to visit a McDonalds to take pictures of the menu and the façade.  In the train station we got a hot chocolate and I learned the real name of it in French: Chocolat Chaud (pronounced shacola show) and Rachel her espresso at a Hagan Daas place in the station.  We then went upstairs to have our passports stamped and go through security. 



Energy is high.  We can't believe this is going to happen!


So we boarded the train and find ourselves rocketing across France traveling north.  The countryside zips past at often 200mph.  It is 10:50am, an overcast day.  Going so fast is an amazing experience.  It makes me a little queasy and maybe being seated backwards, where everything is moving away from you instead of towards you, makes a difference.  It really is a minor case. 



The French countryside goes by at 200 miles per hour.


The difficulty lies in mentally keeping up with the fact that in one and a half hours we have gone from the train station in Paris to beneath the English Channel.  The ride is great, the thought of being so far underground is rather troubling.  What's amazing is that this train goes back and forth leaving about once an hour until the last one leaves London back to Paris at 8 pm, which we will be on, as long as our watches are properly reset!  Which we have just done to be sure. 



We are now in the tunnel and it feels like night time.


All is dark outside except for a faint outline of a curb that runs along the tunnel wall which can barely be seen by pressing up against the window and covering your brow.  The odd thing is that is appears to be going the opposite direction!  Between the disorientation, the physics and the fascination, this is all an incredible experience for me.  Twelve minutes is all it took to cross under the channel. 


A reminder that the Summer Olympics will be in the UK.

We are now in England; my first time (outside the airport at Heathrow)! The countryside along the railway reminds Rachel and me of James Herriot’s Yorkshire.  On our way to London are tunnels, moors, city, gardens, and woodlands in a lovely maze.  Taking pictures is very hard because the windows are double thick and very dirty on the outside.  The camera picks up a fair amount of reflection and dirt.  The countryside is hazy.  We are scheduled to arrive in four minutes.  We are still going very fast!


On the streets of London.

Once off the train we started walking in the direction of the theater.  Not far from the train station we came upon a Falafel place.  We not only ate the most delicious falafel, couscous, special salads and sauces and that it was inexpensive, but the best part was the man who owned it.  He looked Greek or Turkish (where falafel comes from)  and talked with me while Rachel went to find an ATM because they did not take a debit card.  He was very friendly, a great host. 


A phone booth is always within sight in this part of London.

Then we started walking and eventually found the theater.  We went breathless as we approached The “Queens Theater”, and got our printed ticket.  We were an hour early so we sat at a coffee shop and stared at our tickets.  We couldn’t believe we were there and it was actually going to happen! 


The movie musical Oliver! could have been filmed right here.  Looks just like the scene during "Who Will Buy?".

The streets in London are a different kind of busy.  Less fast but more pedestrians.  The cars are on the left side of the road and caused great confusion for us.  Apparently we are not the only ones, because we noticed that written on the street, just when one would step off the sidewalk, are the words “LOOK LEFT” or “LOOK RIGHT”.  I must say it really helped. 


This salad plate we shared in the Falafel place was fabulous.

We went into the theater and sat down.  Our seats were in the back part of the theater on the floor level.  A small part of the top of the stage area was obstructed by the lower balcony.  Fortunately, this caused no interference of consequence.   


Directions like this saved our lives more than once.  Most of them said Look Right.

Seated beside me was an English woman named Pat.  The conversation began as soon as I sat down when I asked her if she had seen the show before.  She hadn’t, even though she lives in London.  Her husband does not like musicals and so she finally decided she would come see it on her own.  So here she was sitting next to me.  We spent the time before the play and the intermission becoming friends.  Rachel took our picture so I can remember what she looked like. 


An ambulance in London.

Rachel was really excited to see it.  She has never read the book but had a good idea about the story.  However, nothing could have prepared us for the amazing experience of a lifetime that Les Miserables was. 


In front of the Queen's Theatre.

It opened powerfully and never let up.  The voices were exquisite—ALL of them.  Every role was played so well I fell in love with them all—every one.  There was not one weak performance.  The two children who played young Cosette and Gavroche astounded and delighted all of us in the audience.  Their voices and their acting were as strong as any of their fellow adult cast members. 

 
Check our watches, check the tickets, pinch me!

The set was beyond our expectations by miles!  A giant turntable comprised nearly the entire stage.  It was flush with the stationary outer area of the stage floor so we did not detect it at first.  It was used for about a third of the performance, so well done that we could do nothing but be amazed.  The scene sets were beautiful yet simple. It was the actors’ movements and flow that brought the set to life.  The costumes and make up were also wonderful and I knew this because I didn’t notice them.  With many productions I’ve seen I notice costume details and make up because of my experience and love of theater.  Between the quality of the costumes and make up and the powerful performances, details fell away.  It was no wonder the room rose to give them a standing ovation.

 

My new dear friend, Pat.  Both of us are here for the first time and she lives in London!


I will not share details of the scenes because I would not want to spoil it for any reader.  But I will replay it over and over in my mind and heart for years to come.  I would sacrifice to come and see it again.  I have never seen a performance some close.  Pat, who sat beside me, said the very same thing.  I told her that "the sad part about this is..." (she became concerned when I said this) "that you will now have to bring your husband and of course you must come with him!" Delight same over her and we had a great laugh.

After the show I snap a picture from my seat.  Because of the performance, every seat is a good seat. And it was sold out!

The Queen’s Theater was beautiful.  I can’t exactly describe the lobby since it was too filled with people for me to see it on the way in and we were too thrilled going out to notice.  But the theater interior did a great justice to its name.  Our seats were red.  There was gold gilded moldings and red curtains hung in doorways.  We walked forward after the show and saw the chandelier in the center hanging.  I am not sure why it was not in the way of those in the balconies.  The domed ceiling was beautifully painted (maybe carved) in exquisite colors.  


A London lamp post on our way back to the train station.

We walked outside.  How we could ever return to real life would be the next question!  We talked about our experience all the way to the little Indian food restaurant.  It hit the spot!  We were the only ones there so we were given great service by a family of Indians.  I had a chicken and lamb curry and Rachel had a chicken dish.  Nice and spicy with delicious rice.


I can't remember what this building was, but it was one of our favorites.

So here we are on EuroStar nearing Paris again.  We have had a nice visit with our seat mate, Jean.  He works in London and lives there but comes home to spend a few days with his family twice a monthly in Paris.  He is a graduate of college and plans on furthering his degrees.  He is a student of math.  He was so nice and enjoyed visiting with the two Americans.  Again, another brief yet special friend. 


The train station.  EuroStar will take us back to Paris.  What a wonderful day!

We walked the few blocks to our Hotel room, packed up and are falling into bed at 1:00am.  Tomorrow morning our cab arrives at 6:30am so we must arise and be off before having a full night of sleep.  Rachel and I have agreed that today has been well worth the sleep deprivation.  I’m not sure we’ll still feel that way in the morning, at least not as enthusiastically.

This is taken from my travel journal.
Is the trip really over?

MY TRIP TO FRANCE. Part Ten: The Embassy

Tuesday, June 5, 2012     
Day Ten

A church in Valognes at 5:30 in the morning on our walk to the train station.

We woke up at 4:45am and by 5:20 were walking, pulling all our luggage, about a mile to the train station.  It was dark and we only encountered about four cars.  By the time we reached it we were in the hazy dusk of morning’s genesis, so peaceful and very damp. 

Enjoying the train ride to Paris.

So we are now on the train heading southeast toward Paris.  We will arrive in a little less than three hours.  The day brightens even with a thick cloud cover, revealing the countryside and villages more with every passing moment. 

I am wearing her out!


I am reading the book I bought at Vivian's La Fiere Inn called No Better Place to Die by Robert Murphy about his experience as a soldier who was one of the first to go in on DDay to Normandy as an Airborne Pathfinder.  Reading it while still here is quite an experience.  I will probably read for much of this train trip.


The Paris bistro we frequented, and today we get an omelet.

This afternoon, we have been invited by the Ambassador himself to tour the US Embassy in Paris as his special guest.  He may not give the tour but it was he who extended the invitation.  I must say that riding the train between Valognes and Paris is a very comfortable and enjoyable experience!

A lavatory in a public toilet.

We had some time before we met with the team for our visit with the Ambassador.  We descend into the flurry that is Paris once again.  After we drop off our luggage at the Avalon, we decide to wander up to our little Bistro for an omelet.  Again it is amazing.  Always thinking it may be the last whatever, we embrace and relish each food, shop and experience. 

Fitting room in the aisle of this clothing shop.

We then meandered and tried on a few clothes at various shops.  In one shop the fitting room was in the very middle of an aisle, a circular round rod which you would pull the curtain around it until you were secluded.  When done you just pull the curtains back and the area becomes the store aisle again.  We talked and walked and enjoyed a light misty sprinkle.  



We never get tired of admiring the many churches in France.

We got back to the Avalon hoping they would let us have our room early so we could get ready for our Embassy visit.  Indeed they worked us into a very nice room on the fourth floor.  It is so much bigger and the view way better then we had before.  The team, in a maze of rendezvous, ended up making our room the base point for changing clothes, cleaning up and leaving their stuff.  We finally secured our cabs and arrived at the Embassy which is located at the foot of Champs-Elysees.  We walked right by it last week and didn't even know it, or suspect that we would be connected.  And now we are to be honored guests of the Ambassador himself.

I still am not used to the bike lanes of Paris.

We arrived at the Embassy entrance and were escorted through security.  Unfortunately we were under the impression that we could take no photos, so my camera remained under lock and key with security while my mind took in every sight.  One camera went in so the team could document their accomplishments on this mission.  I hope to get one or two to have for myself.  The images are clear in my memory.  An unforgettable place.


Our room in the Avalon, sampling our Embassy chocolate.

After we had ascended the spacious stairs we were greeted enthusiastically by Charles Rivkin.  He drew us into his amazing office and talked to us and with us.  He gave us his history which, he told us can be googled and found on Wikipedia.  He told about the honor it was to serve as the Ambassador of France because his father was Ambassador of Qatar.  Mr. Rivkin said he learned French in school and has been an exchange student in France.  Further study was done for this assignment.  His French is excellent.   


The view from the pizza place where we all had dinner.

He took the time to ask about the mechanics of his tandem parachute jump and I have rarely seen a more attentive person than him.  The team was praised and given accolades beyond any the team had ever received.  He asked me in a very sweet way who I was to the team.  When I told him I was Rachel’s mother he smiled spent several minutes in conversation just with me.  I told him I loved his speech and even though most of it was in French, he was so inspiring, it was the feeling. 

Our amazing dinner.

He must have spent about an hour with us.  He gave us each a bottle of French Champaign and a large box of Embassy chocolates.  He made a big deal out of Rachel being here as a woman Golden Knight!  He told us how impressed he was with her. 

Real Petit Fours!

He told us that even though the French don’t outwardly show a lot of patriotism but they love that Americans do.  They are impressed that the Marine guards, who cannot stand to see our nation's flag not fully unfurled, will ask permission to untangle it and let it fly free—the large American flag on a pole which is on the front of the Embassy, attached to the balcony of the Ambassador’s office.  The French guards watch those US marine fellow guardsman perform this task so respectfully.  I am so proud of them!  Tears stung my eyes.  Mr. Rivkin had to return to work.  He bid us a warm and grateful goodbyes and promised to write to their commander a letter of high commendation.   He then turned us over to his aide, Dennis, who took us through the rest of the Embassy.  A small shopping room containing gifts and food to buy inspired us to make a couple of nice purchases.  I bought myself a scarf and a tie for Ric.

Other treats in the shop.

When we all left, a feeling of amazement came over us all.  We talked about it all the way to the Metro station.  We quietly rode the Metro back to our room and talked and laughed again. 


Rachel led us all through town for a long way--uphill for some of it.  We ended up at an Italian restaurant and I ordered spaghetti with zucchini and Rachel ordered a Margarita pizza.  It perked us all up!

We walked by the Square Louis Michel. 

On our way home (I had expressed a desire earlier to sample a petit four) we saw a confection shop and went in to check it out.  It was a shop of sweets that are created by this man and his—either wife or daughter.  Girls and women all look so young in France, no one has gray hair because they color it, as far as I have seen.  When we asked if they make petit fours, he brought out four amazing creations and explained that a petit four is any bite-sized work of art!  He had made a raspberry gazebo, a tiny lacey tart, a chocolate caramel triangle and a jelly tart with a raspberry on top…they all were so beautiful that we all ooed and ahhed. 

Aaron and Noah on our way back to the Hotel. 

Street repairs in Paris.
 
They answered our questions about the other treats.  The man then brought out a tray of six of his creations and said “You try.”  We posed holding them while they took our picture then sampled the exquisite petit fours.  We bought a few of their chocolates to bring home to the states.  Again we walked away from another place having gained special friends.

Beautiful Paris balconies.

I went downstairs to ask for a second pillow.  The gentleman at the counter told me: ‘No second pillow, we cannot do that.”  I said, “I must have a second pillow.” “We cannot share pillows between rooms.” “But I had a second pillow when I was here four days ago. It was in our closet.” “Look in the closet of your room.”  “There is no closet in my room and no second pillow.”  He was quite adamant as was I.  When I told him that I needed it because of my back, he said, “You don’t need a pillow for your back.  You go out dancing and find a nice French man to dance with…”  I informed him my husband would not like that.  He assured me, “He won’t know.”  I laughed and shook my head No!  The young Malaysian girl who had been listening to this shocking dialogue patted my arm and said smiling, “I am very happy about that,” meaning she was relieved to hear my reply!

This is not the place you want to take your date!

 He assumed the attitude of defeat and went in search of a pillow.  He went in and out of several storage rooms and after some time, he came in with a pillow that looked like it was new.  I thanked him profusely he waved a “you’re welcome.”  Rachel, who I found in our room ready to go searching for me, cracked up at the whole story.  She told me she would have given up a lot sooner if she had been down there.  I held up my pillow like it was a trophy.  

This is from my travel journal.
How I love my Canon Powershot!






Wednesday, June 27, 2012

MY TRIP TO FRANCE. Part Nine: Beautiful Valognes

Monday, June 4, 2012 
Day Nine    

My favorite of the paintings in the Hotel restuarant.

Climbing down the stairs of our Hotel.

I have enjoyed a little scripture study on this trip.  I took my large scriptures with me.  I figured I couldn’t go through this trip without using them.  I am marking my Book of Mormon just a few minutes each morning since Friday.  Starts the day right.  Also Rachel and I have been praying every morning and night.  It means a great deal to me.  There is little doubt but that it helped the weather yesterday!!

More celebrating, re-enacting, parading.

We enjoyed our free breakfast of croissants, ham and cheese deli sliced, orange juice.  Some nice paintings hung on the wall and I snapped a few photos of them.  Scenes of Paris and people in an impressionistic style.


On our last walk in Valognes.  Rachel may look French, but I told her I was taking her home with me!


The High School.

So we found out that EuroStar train tickets to London are too expensive, and we have decided we cannot afford to go.  We cried because we have already purchased the tickets to Les Misérables and the disappointment is high.  We had planned to go on Wednesday.  It has been my dream to see the musical because the book (unabridged) is my favorite of all literature.

Many of the sidewalks were very narrow.

This house was tucked back behind a wall.

Within the hour we have gone from not going to going!  Rachel found a cheaper train ticket $270 instead of $500 for me and for her it still may be $430.  At this rate we can split the cost.

The train station in Valognes, almost one mile from our Hotel.

Update.  The $270 ticket was for arrival June 6 and return June 11.  We can’t do that.  IWe need to come back on the same day or no go!  The website causes some confusion but Rachel’s confidence is high.  I’d say this is the most up and down emotional roller coaster yet.

The local library.

Wisteria over a wall is one of our favorite gardens.

Finally, we are booked!  Rachel was able to speak to a gentleman in the UK on the phone about our ticket problems.  He spoke in an Arabic accent but was clearly understandable as well as incredibly helpful.  He not only got the ticket dates all straightened out, but he also got us seats together.  Our original seats were not even on the same car.  Rachel and he struck up a great friendship (as our family is prone to do) and he told us that Les Mis will be totally worth it.

I can't read French but I knew what this meant!  It is the sign on the hospital grounds.

The old hospital, the church behind it is actually attached, and looks like the hospital was built onto the church. You know how we have chapels in our hospitals?  Maybe that comes from Europe.

Today is a more laid back day, despite the excitement about the London trip this morning.  We walked up to the train station to get a schedule for tomorrow and stopped at a café for Rachel’s espresso and my hot chocolate.  Then up to Shopi for some food for the rest of the day—snack items, such as some gouda cheese, ham, croissants, a paring knife and baguettes.  We strolled back to the courtyard of our Hotel du Louvre and ate our lunch. 

A community garden next to the hospital parking lot.

We see that nearly all stores and eateries seem to be closed on Monday.  It is almost as if it was Sunday or a holiday.  Not many people out, just children and youth in school and about.  It has turned quite cold today, maybe 51 or so.  The breeze makes it cooler even.  There are clouds in the sky and seems ready to rain but none yet.  This morning the ground was wet so it had rained earlier.

The old part of this cemetary sent us back a few centuries.

The towns continue to celebrate DDay over the next couple of weeks but on the weekend closest to June 6th is the grand holiday and we are so honored to have been there this year.  I couldn't believe I had forgotten to collect some dirt from the Drop Zone yesterday for my sand collection.  I was distressed about it, so the team members told me it was no problem to return to La Fiere for that little errand.  So we drove out to the DZ to collect dirt in one of my little French jelly jars from the restuarant.

This is the Super U of Valognes.

Tonight we just walked around the town.  We got to the end of our street, the Rue des Religieuses and found ourselves at the old hospital which was huge.  There was a very old building and a very modern building next to it.  The old part was three stories high including a church, a morgue, a blood bank and two wings.  The new part was two stories and quite up to date.  We continued walking around it and after some photo shoots we made our way home.

A mechanic shop.

On the way, we stopped at a large grocery store (not very large) and enjoyed it quite well.  It was called “InterMarche”.  You must pay to use a cart by putting a coin in to a box on the handle of the cart which unhooks it from the row of carts.  Upon hooking it back up, your coin is restored to you.  Honestly, how did we get to this point?

The river that went right through the middle of town.

Another street along our walk.

We have been without hot water in our rooms for the last two days so we have not had a warm shower in a while!  It is now restored.  It felt wonderful to get in there and get all warmed up, and clean.  The free breakfast this morning was given as an apology for the cold water.

The church we walked by every day.  One of the corners by it.  This corner is pictured in a history book I saw.  After the war, it was pretty bombed out.  How we will miss Valognes.

We found out that no taxi in Valognes will take us to the station tomorrow morning.  They say it is too early and it is too short a distance and the fare is not worth driving us.  We will have to walk the nearly one mile with all our suitcases to catch the train at 6:00am back to Paris. 

This is taken from my Travel Journal
Most of our trip, Rachel and I have been on foot.