28 November 2007
12 May 2007
a letter to an old friend
I know I wrote some time back, not sure about the following though. (Figure since you are a long way from home, you may like a letter, regardless of its tone)
Last year my mom's cancer got pretty bad, at Jen's graduation she almost had a heartattack from complications due to the cancer spreading the the chest wall. The oral chemo she was on for 8 months prior to that was considered ineffective at that time and after 5 days in ICU she was discharged and put on I.V. chemo. Previously the typical problems with chemo occurred, nausea, appetite loss, bed ridden, etc. The new chemo changed everything. Sal got up and started living a bit more. we had a wonderful summer. I was really busy at work, scott was in town and living with her for a month and when he was not around I was cleaning up for him and her. It was an amazing time, I spent little time for myself and with Jen's multiple foot surgeries was ready to take up a career in nursing.
Unfortunately, at the beginning of fall mom started complaining of "weakness" in her legs. I thought it was diet related and she needed to walk more. She had confined herself to her bed, basically, and was only really getting out for dr. appts. I was, however, diligently cooking solid meals for her almost daily and with her daily aide, was getting the nutrition she needed. We mentioned her weakness to the dr, maybe too late. Turned out she had brain cancer at this point. Stubborn as all get-up she decided to continue all of her treatments and while the rest of us were wanting her to go into hospice, she wanted more from life. See, to her, the idea of hospice meant giving up on life. In hind sight, it means embracing whatever life she had left and being treated fairly and lovingly by the pros.
Needless to say she began whole cranium radiation treatments that had nasty and very fast acting side effects. I had not been working for a couple weeks at this point when she started exhibiting the first sign of change, she stopped watching tv. She would just stare into the sky out her apartment window. Then the next change occurred, tonic seizures. It was simply the most heart wrenching time of my life. After the worst one at home, I carried her out her door, down the elevator, the stairs, and into my car and we went to the hospital. The ER staff thought I was full of shit and were trying to send her home. After hours in the ER, my Aunt, Jen and I insisted to a new shift dr. that she be admitted. After infiltrating her arm with a bad IV on some really nasty medication, she finally seized in the er. Seems the seizures were pain related and headaches were the trigger. This time, the bad IV did it. Finally we got her admitted. Whatever they OD'd her on kept her unconcious for nearly 2 days and the hospital was trying their hardest to send her home. I fought and fought planning, admissions, nurses, and fired a doctor. I refused to take her home.
The morning of the fourth day, friends and family were arriving as I notified them of her seriously worsening condition, Roger showed up at 7am, before anyone else was there that saturday and got to talk to her and listen as she spoke with him of Scott and I and him. He told her that she was beautiful and wonderful for raising two lovely and amazing men. That we were able to live on and take care of each other and thrive and that maybe it was time for her to stop fighting and trying to cure herself and go to hospice. (must have been really hard for him to say those things and then admit to me later that he had that conversation with her)
We passed him in the parking lot as he left. As Jen, Scott and I entered the room, she told us quite simply, "I want to die." It was the first time that I lost my wits. I fell to my knees in the most heart-ached and saddened moment in my life as I listened to her tell Scott of her decision and of her love for us and readiness to move on. All of the decisions from that point were quite simple to make. We notified San Diego Hospice and the following morning were given a room in the Hillcrest facility. Just 10 blocks from my house, I spent all my days by her side, reading, listening to music, telling her about the birds and the weather, the meals we would eat and the friends we shared and loved. Every morning my aunt would call from england and take her on "walks" through her home village in england and remind her of silly things they did as kids and family and friends they adored. It was magical. After 8 days in hospice, incapable of eating and refusing resuscitative care, she died very peacefully as Jen and I slept by her side.
We held a HUGE party in her honor after a modest memorial service. It was a gorgeous sunny day, the MarDels played and we danced and sang in memory of her love and beauty.
--
It has been six months since then. This is the first I have written of it in that time. Jen and I took some time off. We traveled throughout Europe for 2 months and had a lovely memorial in England and scattered her ashes on a family field on Christmas morning. I recently just started back up to work and am trying hard to remember some of the lessons I learned about taking time to enjoy life as it surrounds us.
I hope you are keeping well and that I see you in the future.
Take good care of yourself.
Love,
--Jim
Last year my mom's cancer got pretty bad, at Jen's graduation she almost had a heartattack from complications due to the cancer spreading the the chest wall. The oral chemo she was on for 8 months prior to that was considered ineffective at that time and after 5 days in ICU she was discharged and put on I.V. chemo. Previously the typical problems with chemo occurred, nausea, appetite loss, bed ridden, etc. The new chemo changed everything. Sal got up and started living a bit more. we had a wonderful summer. I was really busy at work, scott was in town and living with her for a month and when he was not around I was cleaning up for him and her. It was an amazing time, I spent little time for myself and with Jen's multiple foot surgeries was ready to take up a career in nursing.
Unfortunately, at the beginning of fall mom started complaining of "weakness" in her legs. I thought it was diet related and she needed to walk more. She had confined herself to her bed, basically, and was only really getting out for dr. appts. I was, however, diligently cooking solid meals for her almost daily and with her daily aide, was getting the nutrition she needed. We mentioned her weakness to the dr, maybe too late. Turned out she had brain cancer at this point. Stubborn as all get-up she decided to continue all of her treatments and while the rest of us were wanting her to go into hospice, she wanted more from life. See, to her, the idea of hospice meant giving up on life. In hind sight, it means embracing whatever life she had left and being treated fairly and lovingly by the pros.
Needless to say she began whole cranium radiation treatments that had nasty and very fast acting side effects. I had not been working for a couple weeks at this point when she started exhibiting the first sign of change, she stopped watching tv. She would just stare into the sky out her apartment window. Then the next change occurred, tonic seizures. It was simply the most heart wrenching time of my life. After the worst one at home, I carried her out her door, down the elevator, the stairs, and into my car and we went to the hospital. The ER staff thought I was full of shit and were trying to send her home. After hours in the ER, my Aunt, Jen and I insisted to a new shift dr. that she be admitted. After infiltrating her arm with a bad IV on some really nasty medication, she finally seized in the er. Seems the seizures were pain related and headaches were the trigger. This time, the bad IV did it. Finally we got her admitted. Whatever they OD'd her on kept her unconcious for nearly 2 days and the hospital was trying their hardest to send her home. I fought and fought planning, admissions, nurses, and fired a doctor. I refused to take her home.
The morning of the fourth day, friends and family were arriving as I notified them of her seriously worsening condition, Roger showed up at 7am, before anyone else was there that saturday and got to talk to her and listen as she spoke with him of Scott and I and him. He told her that she was beautiful and wonderful for raising two lovely and amazing men. That we were able to live on and take care of each other and thrive and that maybe it was time for her to stop fighting and trying to cure herself and go to hospice. (must have been really hard for him to say those things and then admit to me later that he had that conversation with her)
We passed him in the parking lot as he left. As Jen, Scott and I entered the room, she told us quite simply, "I want to die." It was the first time that I lost my wits. I fell to my knees in the most heart-ached and saddened moment in my life as I listened to her tell Scott of her decision and of her love for us and readiness to move on. All of the decisions from that point were quite simple to make. We notified San Diego Hospice and the following morning were given a room in the Hillcrest facility. Just 10 blocks from my house, I spent all my days by her side, reading, listening to music, telling her about the birds and the weather, the meals we would eat and the friends we shared and loved. Every morning my aunt would call from england and take her on "walks" through her home village in england and remind her of silly things they did as kids and family and friends they adored. It was magical. After 8 days in hospice, incapable of eating and refusing resuscitative care, she died very peacefully as Jen and I slept by her side.
We held a HUGE party in her honor after a modest memorial service. It was a gorgeous sunny day, the MarDels played and we danced and sang in memory of her love and beauty.
--
It has been six months since then. This is the first I have written of it in that time. Jen and I took some time off. We traveled throughout Europe for 2 months and had a lovely memorial in England and scattered her ashes on a family field on Christmas morning. I recently just started back up to work and am trying hard to remember some of the lessons I learned about taking time to enjoy life as it surrounds us.
I hope you are keeping well and that I see you in the future.
Take good care of yourself.
Love,
--Jim
15 February 2007
In Paris
I have been finding it difficult to find the time needed to fill in the blog on the past weeks of travel. I will try to at least get some of the photos uploaded, and certainly will fill it all in after we return to the states next week.
The THIRTEENTH
They say that friday the thirteenth is bad, well...
The day was actually pretty great. We got up, packed, checked out of the Shining-esque hotel in Chateaux Chambord, drove back to LeMans with only a 35 minute wrong way detour, got on the TGV, and ended up in the Paris Montparnasse Gare. We navigated the circuitous MC Escher stairways into the Metro and bought our tickets in french at the defacto computer terminal, rushed up and down stairs, me carrying both bags as usual, packed onto a rush hour daily commuter train, and popped out dead smack in the middle of insane rush hour Hotel DeVille area with luggage. I was sweating like a pig and I guess was smelling just as fresh, and we started our insane walk of torture 10 blocks to our new Hotel. This place had been recommended both in the Rick Steve's books, but also by Florence and Niko. This is where they stay with the kids. We arrive to be greated by a huge-eyebrowed man with a very "I only speak french" attitude and get our key with Jen's nearing fluency elegance. We get in the elevator and begin our ascent to the 4th floor. We open the door to find that this room should be used in a CSI episode. Initially smelling like cigarettes, we notice the following: mold on the walls under the window; walls and door jambs caked with dirt from all the hands of travellers from years past; the shower door was duct taped together and rotting, the pole for the shower handle was broken, so it was really a "self service car rinse-style" shower; a long black hair in the sink; hairs on the towels; a moldy towel rack; ad the cigarette smoke faded in our nostrils, the smell of urine; and the piece de resistance, a blood stain on the wall that went from the phone table upward and onto another wall (email me for pics, not bloggable), my guess... a junky passed out shooting up and pissed himself as the needle blew out the vein. Well our bushy-browed hotel friend ended up speeaking very good english as we soon found out and knew of the condition of the room. We cancelled the remaining nights as he was booked up that night and could not promise a better room. We decided to go on a hotel hunt. The two-star €60 rate was soon to be upgraded to a 3 star €100 rate back at our Paris favorite, the Hotel Castex. We decided to stay in the room for the one night as we were out the 60 anyway... then some reasonable and rational thought came over us and we decided to charge it with a letter being immediately written to the hotel, a note about bloody walls on the charge slip, and we were outta there. My contest letter to Visa, Niko and Florence, and Rick Steves should be pretty funny.
We went back to the murder site and gathered our things, I wreaked, Jen hobbled, but we got our bags and went and watched french TV and slept very well, thank you, on the simple Rue du Castex.
Valentine's Day
The day got the usual start with coffee and cereal and a croissant in the limestone cavern of our hotel. And the unusual, "thank you Jimmy for getting us outta there last night." Then, to the LAUNDROMAT! I was overdue for some washing and I think scared a couple people with my euro-fresh scent yesterday after a day of trains and rushing in the underground carrying 100lbs of bags. We met an american ex-pat in the laundromat who moved to paris as a consultant in the oil business, from texas. I bet he has a hard time explaining Bush and Oil to Parisians. We got our clothes back to the hotel and bought a baguette sandwich on the way and ate in the lobby as our room was being cleaned. We hung our wet stuff and I washed my wool sweater in the sink. It was overdue too and smelled like fine stilton soaked in wet lamb as I pressed the water into the almost impereable fabric. I laughed and Jen gagged. haha.
Jen layed down for a nap and I went down to the pub on the corner to read 3 chapters John Maeda's "The Law's of Simplicity." Drinking Leffe Blonde and making diligent notes and highlighting segments of the text, Jen arrived for a coffee and off we went for another walk about the Marais. Back to the hotel after a quick crepe to get ready for our reservation around the corner at Le Bastoche. I dozed for about 3 minutes in our 12 sq ft room and got up to shave, iron, primp, and run out the door to have a 3 course set menu where all the food was made in heart shapes. I ate the Frois Grois, beef and pastry with berries and Jen had the salmon, scallop plate, and the chocolate mousse/tiramisou. We got a tip on a cool neighborhood for a drink and decided to skip the grumpy doorman at the spanish disco for the flavour of a smokey Che Guavara inspired dive. Drinking Leffe and Jen with port, I broke the ice and asked about this glowing green drink served from a beer tap in Chinon and if they knew what it was. We met some new friends at the bar and stayed and talked about Paris and politics and valentines. Then we said goodbye to Sebastian and friends and headed back to the Hotel. I got the hiccups REALLY bad. I think I hyperventillated trying to stop them and passed out. All I remember is after Jen stubbed her toe, laying back in the bed, then waking up in the darkness without the hiccups... ah living.
Thursday, the 15th
Right now we are back at the hotel after a day of being on our feet. Jen stubbed her pinky toe on a bench in our room before bed and after 2 glasses of champaign, a 1/4 bottle of wine, and two glasses of port on valentine's day. We missed breakfast and, nursing our slight hangovers, headed out late to eat Croque Monsieur and Madamme with Bastille plaza people watching seating. Two cups of coffee, a caraffe of water, salad, and cheese and ham on toast, we headed into the bowels of the metro to emerge at the Champs du Mars. Her swolen toe adding to the pain of her already sore feet, she stuck it out in queues for over 1.5 hours to reach the 3rd summit of the Eiffel Tower on a GORGEOUS sunny day. We then waked the Rue de Cler for a coffee and street-side crepes then to the Grand Palais to see the Egyptian artifacts uncovered in the lost capital of ancient Egypt sunk by the rising sea.
It's nap time for her now.
The THIRTEENTH
They say that friday the thirteenth is bad, well...
The day was actually pretty great. We got up, packed, checked out of the Shining-esque hotel in Chateaux Chambord, drove back to LeMans with only a 35 minute wrong way detour, got on the TGV, and ended up in the Paris Montparnasse Gare. We navigated the circuitous MC Escher stairways into the Metro and bought our tickets in french at the defacto computer terminal, rushed up and down stairs, me carrying both bags as usual, packed onto a rush hour daily commuter train, and popped out dead smack in the middle of insane rush hour Hotel DeVille area with luggage. I was sweating like a pig and I guess was smelling just as fresh, and we started our insane walk of torture 10 blocks to our new Hotel. This place had been recommended both in the Rick Steve's books, but also by Florence and Niko. This is where they stay with the kids. We arrive to be greated by a huge-eyebrowed man with a very "I only speak french" attitude and get our key with Jen's nearing fluency elegance. We get in the elevator and begin our ascent to the 4th floor. We open the door to find that this room should be used in a CSI episode. Initially smelling like cigarettes, we notice the following: mold on the walls under the window; walls and door jambs caked with dirt from all the hands of travellers from years past; the shower door was duct taped together and rotting, the pole for the shower handle was broken, so it was really a "self service car rinse-style" shower; a long black hair in the sink; hairs on the towels; a moldy towel rack; ad the cigarette smoke faded in our nostrils, the smell of urine; and the piece de resistance, a blood stain on the wall that went from the phone table upward and onto another wall (email me for pics, not bloggable), my guess... a junky passed out shooting up and pissed himself as the needle blew out the vein. Well our bushy-browed hotel friend ended up speeaking very good english as we soon found out and knew of the condition of the room. We cancelled the remaining nights as he was booked up that night and could not promise a better room. We decided to go on a hotel hunt. The two-star €60 rate was soon to be upgraded to a 3 star €100 rate back at our Paris favorite, the Hotel Castex. We decided to stay in the room for the one night as we were out the 60 anyway... then some reasonable and rational thought came over us and we decided to charge it with a letter being immediately written to the hotel, a note about bloody walls on the charge slip, and we were outta there. My contest letter to Visa, Niko and Florence, and Rick Steves should be pretty funny.
We went back to the murder site and gathered our things, I wreaked, Jen hobbled, but we got our bags and went and watched french TV and slept very well, thank you, on the simple Rue du Castex.
Valentine's Day
The day got the usual start with coffee and cereal and a croissant in the limestone cavern of our hotel. And the unusual, "thank you Jimmy for getting us outta there last night." Then, to the LAUNDROMAT! I was overdue for some washing and I think scared a couple people with my euro-fresh scent yesterday after a day of trains and rushing in the underground carrying 100lbs of bags. We met an american ex-pat in the laundromat who moved to paris as a consultant in the oil business, from texas. I bet he has a hard time explaining Bush and Oil to Parisians. We got our clothes back to the hotel and bought a baguette sandwich on the way and ate in the lobby as our room was being cleaned. We hung our wet stuff and I washed my wool sweater in the sink. It was overdue too and smelled like fine stilton soaked in wet lamb as I pressed the water into the almost impereable fabric. I laughed and Jen gagged. haha.
Jen layed down for a nap and I went down to the pub on the corner to read 3 chapters John Maeda's "The Law's of Simplicity." Drinking Leffe Blonde and making diligent notes and highlighting segments of the text, Jen arrived for a coffee and off we went for another walk about the Marais. Back to the hotel after a quick crepe to get ready for our reservation around the corner at Le Bastoche. I dozed for about 3 minutes in our 12 sq ft room and got up to shave, iron, primp, and run out the door to have a 3 course set menu where all the food was made in heart shapes. I ate the Frois Grois, beef and pastry with berries and Jen had the salmon, scallop plate, and the chocolate mousse/tiramisou. We got a tip on a cool neighborhood for a drink and decided to skip the grumpy doorman at the spanish disco for the flavour of a smokey Che Guavara inspired dive. Drinking Leffe and Jen with port, I broke the ice and asked about this glowing green drink served from a beer tap in Chinon and if they knew what it was. We met some new friends at the bar and stayed and talked about Paris and politics and valentines. Then we said goodbye to Sebastian and friends and headed back to the Hotel. I got the hiccups REALLY bad. I think I hyperventillated trying to stop them and passed out. All I remember is after Jen stubbed her toe, laying back in the bed, then waking up in the darkness without the hiccups... ah living.
Thursday, the 15th
Right now we are back at the hotel after a day of being on our feet. Jen stubbed her pinky toe on a bench in our room before bed and after 2 glasses of champaign, a 1/4 bottle of wine, and two glasses of port on valentine's day. We missed breakfast and, nursing our slight hangovers, headed out late to eat Croque Monsieur and Madamme with Bastille plaza people watching seating. Two cups of coffee, a caraffe of water, salad, and cheese and ham on toast, we headed into the bowels of the metro to emerge at the Champs du Mars. Her swolen toe adding to the pain of her already sore feet, she stuck it out in queues for over 1.5 hours to reach the 3rd summit of the Eiffel Tower on a GORGEOUS sunny day. We then waked the Rue de Cler for a coffee and street-side crepes then to the Grand Palais to see the Egyptian artifacts uncovered in the lost capital of ancient Egypt sunk by the rising sea.
It's nap time for her now.
12 February 2007
Back episodes: Italy and France in Feb
February
2nd or 3rd Day: Train from Padova to Milan to Como, Check in to hotel, walk around insanely busy Como ped area, nap
2nd or 3rd Night: Met by Anna and Paolo, apertif at modern bar by lake, fantastic 4 course Dinner at top of crazy hilltop road
4th Day: Late start;
Walk around Como, lunch with Anna, her mom, kids, and Paolo at their apt
4th Night: Nap, eat sleep early
5th Day: Visit Bellagio with all other tourists, drink thick chocolate
5th Night: Eat at Hemmingway restaurant, joined by Paolo. Turned in.
6th Day: Leave Como for Milan and take trains on wrong day and kick all the correct passengers out of their seats, then train from Milan to Paris where we realized we were wrong and played musical chairs for 4 hours. Arrive in Paris, take Metro, check in to hotel, Walk around Marais
6th Night: Eat at Le Bastoche watch CNN and Eurosport
7th Day: Visit Notre Dame during mass, buy a votive for Cecily, walk around Marais, take nap
7th Night: Eat at "long bench" (translates) and walk into scarry west of Pompidou, then back to hotel for CNN, again, same stories...
8th Day: TGV to LeMans, pick up rental car, drive to who knows where... just nortwest.
8th Night: Check in to hotel at S Michel and eat in hotel
9th Day: Drive from Mt S Michel, get lost, ogle at scale of nuclear plant on Loire, check into Hotel in Chinon
9th Night: after not knowing how to knock at one restaurant, dinner at GREAT little other restaurant, drank REALLY good wine, fear of mugging in dimly lit Chinon by rag tag group of moped riders (hahah)
10th Day: Explore Chinon castle ruins where Joan of Arc proclaimed french heir to throne and long walk of stairs , lunch seated next to a 1-eyed dog and fat man drinking perrier and wiskey apertif and whole bottle of rosé wine.
10th Night: Dinner at 30something and sleep in Chinon again
11th Day: Driving nad getting lost, drive past Chateaux Ussé, visit Chateaux Assey Le Riddeau
11th Night: dinner and bed in a 2 star Hotel in Chenenceau
12th Day: Chateaux Chenenceau, Driving low on gas, Chateaux Chambord
12th Night: dinner and bed at Hotel Chateaux Chambord, drink young wine from bad plastic cups in room while wathing american tv all with french dubs.
2nd or 3rd Day: Train from Padova to Milan to Como, Check in to hotel, walk around insanely busy Como ped area, nap
2nd or 3rd Night: Met by Anna and Paolo, apertif at modern bar by lake, fantastic 4 course Dinner at top of crazy hilltop road
4th Day: Late start;
Walk around Como, lunch with Anna, her mom, kids, and Paolo at their apt4th Night: Nap, eat sleep early
5th Day: Visit Bellagio with all other tourists, drink thick chocolate
5th Night: Eat at Hemmingway restaurant, joined by Paolo. Turned in.
6th Day: Leave Como for Milan and take trains on wrong day and kick all the correct passengers out of their seats, then train from Milan to Paris where we realized we were wrong and played musical chairs for 4 hours. Arrive in Paris, take Metro, check in to hotel, Walk around Marais
6th Night: Eat at Le Bastoche watch CNN and Eurosport
7th Day: Visit Notre Dame during mass, buy a votive for Cecily, walk around Marais, take nap
7th Night: Eat at "long bench" (translates) and walk into scarry west of Pompidou, then back to hotel for CNN, again, same stories...
8th Day: TGV to LeMans, pick up rental car, drive to who knows where... just nortwest.
8th Night: Check in to hotel at S Michel and eat in hotel
9th Day: Drive from Mt S Michel, get lost, ogle at scale of nuclear plant on Loire, check into Hotel in Chinon
9th Night: after not knowing how to knock at one restaurant, dinner at GREAT little other restaurant, drank REALLY good wine, fear of mugging in dimly lit Chinon by rag tag group of moped riders (hahah)
10th Day: Explore Chinon castle ruins where Joan of Arc proclaimed french heir to throne and long walk of stairs , lunch seated next to a 1-eyed dog and fat man drinking perrier and wiskey apertif and whole bottle of rosé wine.
10th Night: Dinner at 30something and sleep in Chinon again
11th Day: Driving nad getting lost, drive past Chateaux Ussé, visit Chateaux Assey Le Riddeau
11th Night: dinner and bed in a 2 star Hotel in Chenenceau
12th Day: Chateaux Chenenceau, Driving low on gas, Chateaux Chambord
12th Night: dinner and bed at Hotel Chateaux Chambord, drink young wine from bad plastic cups in room while wathing american tv all with french dubs.
15 January 2007
The FAST Museum Tour
We got up a little late hoping to get out and actually see inside some buildings in Amsterdam. Well it wasn't long before Jen needed food and a foot rest but we did make it to the Rijksmuseum and the Expressionist show at the Van Gogh Museum.
It seems that travelling in Europe in January and February has seen construction at every major museum and cathedral offering stunted if any exhibits at all.
The main entrance at the Rijksmuseum was closed and barricaded with fencing, scaffolds, and cranes. It is an amazing building, to see it open would be amazing. We entered in the back to a limited viewing of historical paintings and artifacts. I got to see some amazing Dutch Master paintings firsthand including a large array of Rembrandt drawings & paintings and VanEyck paintings. It was inspiring to think that centuries ago, during times without running water and electricity, that life seemed so beautiful and simple. But to know Europe in winter is to realize that it would certainly hqve been anything but simple when you could not get warmth or find food or shelter, and have to buy/trade for supplies daily.
The grounds behind the Rijksmuseum are amazing. A huge field lined with saplings and the enormous 2 building VanGogh museum prominently in the middle. Jen hit the wall and went for a foot rest and warm up... I went in for a 30 minute tour of 50 years of expressionist POW. Again, inspiring, to say the least. Waiting for a call from Sophia, oh her way to meet us and spend some more time on the train with Tigo. By this time, Tigo was starting to show signs of his cold getting worse and I believe was moving to a stronger course of antibiotics and Jen and I avoinding direct contact or at least washing our hands often to keep from getting sick.
Sophia met us by the old Mint or Muntplein, which Jen and I struggled to find on our tram map. She met us with hot turkish food in hand and we headed bqck to the apartment for some spicy treats.
It seems that travelling in Europe in January and February has seen construction at every major museum and cathedral offering stunted if any exhibits at all.
The main entrance at the Rijksmuseum was closed and barricaded with fencing, scaffolds, and cranes. It is an amazing building, to see it open would be amazing. We entered in the back to a limited viewing of historical paintings and artifacts. I got to see some amazing Dutch Master paintings firsthand including a large array of Rembrandt drawings & paintings and VanEyck paintings. It was inspiring to think that centuries ago, during times without running water and electricity, that life seemed so beautiful and simple. But to know Europe in winter is to realize that it would certainly hqve been anything but simple when you could not get warmth or find food or shelter, and have to buy/trade for supplies daily.
The grounds behind the Rijksmuseum are amazing. A huge field lined with saplings and the enormous 2 building VanGogh museum prominently in the middle. Jen hit the wall and went for a foot rest and warm up... I went in for a 30 minute tour of 50 years of expressionist POW. Again, inspiring, to say the least. Waiting for a call from Sophia, oh her way to meet us and spend some more time on the train with Tigo. By this time, Tigo was starting to show signs of his cold getting worse and I believe was moving to a stronger course of antibiotics and Jen and I avoinding direct contact or at least washing our hands often to keep from getting sick.
Sophia met us by the old Mint or Muntplein, which Jen and I struggled to find on our tram map. She met us with hot turkish food in hand and we headed bqck to the apartment for some spicy treats.
14 January 2007
Touring Holland "Properly"
Friday:
After spending the night with Cassie and Lorenzo, newlyweds with a baby on the way, we got up, ate some lekker breakfast, then, rather late, went into Haarlem to meet Sophia and have some lunch. I drank some good beer, Hertzog Jan. We walked around Haarlem with the light fading. Saw the old city hall and bought some fresh "bio" fish and vegetables to make paella. We were so late we missed the spanish store before closing and I decided to make a Pad Thai. It was soggy.
We drank some wine, enjoyed a late meal, then back to Cassie's for bed.
Saturday:
Got up early for a day of touring. Went for a walk along a canal. The River rather, that joins the coast to Amsterdam. They used to pull boats with horses and mules along the river the entire 20 miles or so. We enjoyed their company and hospitality and their beautiful neighborhood before getting picked up for a day of site seeing and evening in Utrecht.
First thing was to visit an old wind mill. It was the first patented saw mill. The blades moved so fast and the mill rocked so, I thought "in the states, they would shut this down in a legal fit." Then we drove past some amazing countryside. We saw an old house where the foundation went straight into the water. WWII bunkers were all around, evidence of a brutal war cluttering the ancient beauty of brick and mortar estates and wooden thatched roof homes.
Henri was telling us about the technology behind the dykes and polders. The nature of wind mills to act as pumps, making the land aerable, the dutch perseverance, and the beautiful villages.
We made it to Utrecht right at sunset. Just enough light to photograph a catherdral that the wind blew down as it was being built. The pillar markers still on the street. We saw the canal, one story down, and wondered as Henri spoke if the catacombs went thru the entire city. You enter businesses on upper level, find some stairs into odd tunnels, then pop-out on the canal with summer-time cafes all closed up for winter. We can only imagine the amazing beauty of this place in summer!
Back to Amsterdam for some fresh clothes and a night sleep.
Sunday:
We get up a bit late, but READY for a day of driving to the north to experience another packed day of travel, Henri style.
We go first to this old village. Windmills and homes in old fashion selling wares and tourist crap. There was a chocolate factory up wind and EVERYONE of us wanted hot chocolate. Not one place selling hot cocoa... it was an easy sell. Where is the dutch entreprenuerial spirit?
We then went to the end of the earth, Marken, and I ate some fish that was so thin, a cat would have balked. The bones were right out of cartoons.
I shot some of the most picturesque photos of my life today.
After spending the night with Cassie and Lorenzo, newlyweds with a baby on the way, we got up, ate some lekker breakfast, then, rather late, went into Haarlem to meet Sophia and have some lunch. I drank some good beer, Hertzog Jan. We walked around Haarlem with the light fading. Saw the old city hall and bought some fresh "bio" fish and vegetables to make paella. We were so late we missed the spanish store before closing and I decided to make a Pad Thai. It was soggy.
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| From Haarlem |
We drank some wine, enjoyed a late meal, then back to Cassie's for bed.
Saturday:
Got up early for a day of touring. Went for a walk along a canal. The River rather, that joins the coast to Amsterdam. They used to pull boats with horses and mules along the river the entire 20 miles or so. We enjoyed their company and hospitality and their beautiful neighborhood before getting picked up for a day of site seeing and evening in Utrecht.
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| From Haarlem |
First thing was to visit an old wind mill. It was the first patented saw mill. The blades moved so fast and the mill rocked so, I thought "in the states, they would shut this down in a legal fit." Then we drove past some amazing countryside. We saw an old house where the foundation went straight into the water. WWII bunkers were all around, evidence of a brutal war cluttering the ancient beauty of brick and mortar estates and wooden thatched roof homes.
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| From Travelling to... |
Henri was telling us about the technology behind the dykes and polders. The nature of wind mills to act as pumps, making the land aerable, the dutch perseverance, and the beautiful villages.
We made it to Utrecht right at sunset. Just enough light to photograph a catherdral that the wind blew down as it was being built. The pillar markers still on the street. We saw the canal, one story down, and wondered as Henri spoke if the catacombs went thru the entire city. You enter businesses on upper level, find some stairs into odd tunnels, then pop-out on the canal with summer-time cafes all closed up for winter. We can only imagine the amazing beauty of this place in summer!
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| From Travelling to... |
Back to Amsterdam for some fresh clothes and a night sleep.
Sunday:
We get up a bit late, but READY for a day of driving to the north to experience another packed day of travel, Henri style.
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| From Noord Holland |
We go first to this old village. Windmills and homes in old fashion selling wares and tourist crap. There was a chocolate factory up wind and EVERYONE of us wanted hot chocolate. Not one place selling hot cocoa... it was an easy sell. Where is the dutch entreprenuerial spirit?
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| From Noord Holland |
We then went to the end of the earth, Marken, and I ate some fish that was so thin, a cat would have balked. The bones were right out of cartoons.
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| From Noord Holland |
I shot some of the most picturesque photos of my life today.
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| From Noord Holland |
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| From Noord Holland |
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| From Noord Holland |
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| From Noord Holland |
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| From Noord Holland |
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| From Noord Holland |
11 January 2007
The Lazy (Rainy) Days of Amsterdam
We return to Amsterdam so relieved to not be submerged in children only to be awoken by the sounds of kids playing in the schoolyard next door. All of our travels up to this point were during end of year holiday and so we never knew the apartment was next to an elementary school. We laughed and made coffee.
The weather turned dramatically when we got back. The wind picked up and it rained. It rained and it blew and it blew and it gusted and poured. I felt like I was back in Oakland in a good storm and we stayed indoors. Jen rested her feet, her gut, and her brain... I got restless. I was going out for soup and groceries, but in general wanted more. This city is so big with so much going on and I had not seen any of it. I stayed put for days and finally we started getting out and seeing more of the city in small amounts.
We walked over by Jordaan where the AnneFrank house is. Walked right passed it, I think, but we were more amazed by the boots in the window and the church bells. The light was amazing after the rain and wind. We kept walking, got lost, and finally made it back to the house for some more soup. THere is this soup place down the street. THat is all they do, make soup. over 100 soups on recipe with about 6-10 every given day. I think I had a split pea and jen an indian chickpea. We ate our fill and discovered the power of iTunes and buying movies and TV shows and went to bed after eating some chocolate covered shortbread.
Life is good... tomorrow we go to Haarlem to meet up with Cassie and Lorenzo, and Sophia, Henri, and Tigo on thier home turf.
The weather turned dramatically when we got back. The wind picked up and it rained. It rained and it blew and it blew and it gusted and poured. I felt like I was back in Oakland in a good storm and we stayed indoors. Jen rested her feet, her gut, and her brain... I got restless. I was going out for soup and groceries, but in general wanted more. This city is so big with so much going on and I had not seen any of it. I stayed put for days and finally we started getting out and seeing more of the city in small amounts.
We walked over by Jordaan where the AnneFrank house is. Walked right passed it, I think, but we were more amazed by the boots in the window and the church bells. The light was amazing after the rain and wind. We kept walking, got lost, and finally made it back to the house for some more soup. THere is this soup place down the street. THat is all they do, make soup. over 100 soups on recipe with about 6-10 every given day. I think I had a split pea and jen an indian chickpea. We ate our fill and discovered the power of iTunes and buying movies and TV shows and went to bed after eating some chocolate covered shortbread.
Life is good... tomorrow we go to Haarlem to meet up with Cassie and Lorenzo, and Sophia, Henri, and Tigo on thier home turf.
07 January 2007
Travelling to Dole, France
We left Morzine at about 12, Jen and I needed to go get some proper food and walked into town before being trapped in a car. I wanted Crepes like the day before, but we settled on some basic baguette sandwiches.
Jen, Niko, Florence, and I packed into a french minivan with the kids, Noah and Nalu for a 4 hour drive east and north around the lake and into the french countryside.
We arrived just at sunset, and after being shown our room in the old walled city's abbey, we went for a quick walk around the town. Narrow windy streets in irregular patterns and shapes, we circumnavigated the moat and the birthplace of Louis Pasteur. We laughed at the wigs on the manequinns and back to the house for some couscous.
I think this meal summarized everything fantastic about our trip. We drank the local specialty win, Arbois, and ate a traditional dish in an old abbey with Florence's mother in her classy style and manner. It was a perfect end to an action packed short trip... oh, and by now, Jen was eating and drinking with the best of them!
The next morning off we went through Paris on the TGV (tay jah vay) and back to Amsterdam for another relaxing week in our fantastic apartment overlooking the Oudeschans canal.
We arrive in Paris and have to take the metro RER D to Gare Nord. We got into the station just fine where Jen immeditely lost her metro ticket. We got to our platform, after going down the wrong RerD platform (four tracks) and got crammed onto a train full of suitcases. Each stop got more and more busy and the suitcases jamming the entry were frustrating the passengers shoving to get on. I got a good whiplash and kneed a fellow square in his boys, if you know what I mean, and finally settled back onto our bag stack to get off at the next stop.
We got lost in the station. I knew we needed to exit the Metro, but with Jen having lost her ticket, was hoping we could stay in it until the train station. But no. Finally we found the exit to take and I went out, bought a ticket, validated it, handed it to her over the glass, and she got out of Metro Jail. We went to the Gare. It was MAGNIFICENT. We needed to get some food and went to a walk up/stand up cafe and got a couple ham and cheese sandwiches and a coke. Some beggar gypsies came up asking for money while we were ordering, I almost went off on them. I never respect any homeless or beggar who is asking for money while you are eating. Afterward... fine. I held my tongue.
We boarded our train after getting our ticket and reservation validated by what Jen termed the "most french man she had ever seen".
I drank Stella, Jen coffee, and back to Amsterdam we went.
Jen, Niko, Florence, and I packed into a french minivan with the kids, Noah and Nalu for a 4 hour drive east and north around the lake and into the french countryside.
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| From Morzine, France |
We arrived just at sunset, and after being shown our room in the old walled city's abbey, we went for a quick walk around the town. Narrow windy streets in irregular patterns and shapes, we circumnavigated the moat and the birthplace of Louis Pasteur. We laughed at the wigs on the manequinns and back to the house for some couscous.
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| From Morzine, France |
I think this meal summarized everything fantastic about our trip. We drank the local specialty win, Arbois, and ate a traditional dish in an old abbey with Florence's mother in her classy style and manner. It was a perfect end to an action packed short trip... oh, and by now, Jen was eating and drinking with the best of them!
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| From Morzine, France |
The next morning off we went through Paris on the TGV (tay jah vay) and back to Amsterdam for another relaxing week in our fantastic apartment overlooking the Oudeschans canal.
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| From Morzine, France |
We arrive in Paris and have to take the metro RER D to Gare Nord. We got into the station just fine where Jen immeditely lost her metro ticket. We got to our platform, after going down the wrong RerD platform (four tracks) and got crammed onto a train full of suitcases. Each stop got more and more busy and the suitcases jamming the entry were frustrating the passengers shoving to get on. I got a good whiplash and kneed a fellow square in his boys, if you know what I mean, and finally settled back onto our bag stack to get off at the next stop.
We got lost in the station. I knew we needed to exit the Metro, but with Jen having lost her ticket, was hoping we could stay in it until the train station. But no. Finally we found the exit to take and I went out, bought a ticket, validated it, handed it to her over the glass, and she got out of Metro Jail. We went to the Gare. It was MAGNIFICENT. We needed to get some food and went to a walk up/stand up cafe and got a couple ham and cheese sandwiches and a coke. Some beggar gypsies came up asking for money while we were ordering, I almost went off on them. I never respect any homeless or beggar who is asking for money while you are eating. Afterward... fine. I held my tongue.
We boarded our train after getting our ticket and reservation validated by what Jen termed the "most french man she had ever seen".
I drank Stella, Jen coffee, and back to Amsterdam we went.
06 January 2007
Skiing and sickness in Morzine
So after we arrive in Morzine, one of the guests leaving, we sat at a long 9ft dinner table with a plat and a table full of baguettes and fine french cheeses. I remember a story about a ripe cheese and lysteria infections, I tried it, but hedged my bets, much like eating shellfish, you never know when that last bite gets you sick. We settled down that evening for champaign and frois grois, then dinner,pork sausages and fried potato balls, oh and some lovely red wine. I slept like a baby waiting for fresh snow in the morning.
In the night I awoke to the most aweful sound any skier can hear, other than a breaking bone... RAIN. It must have rained for at least three hours. I was sooooo bummed out. I had already rented my gear the evening before and the thought of skiing in the rain reminded me of the good old days of Big Bear. I hadnt travelled to the famed French Alps to compare the snow to Los Angeles... but it seems I did. Then the next sound you never want to hear... "I dont feel good," followed shortly by heaving and splashing in a plastic trash can. I listened until she was over the hump and took the can, flushed the contents, rinsed, then back to bed to sleep while Jen wondered which cheese or which child got her sick.
The morning was dry but the clouds sat heavy in the sky, just like Jen's stomach in her gut. Jen was going to have to tolerate another day of kids with Florence and Elise and Vincent even being as sick as she was. Fortunately Vincent was a doctor and prescribed some antiemtics and pain/cramping meds and I ran down to the pharmacy with my favorite phrase in mind "Je no pal pas francais." 8€ for her meds and back I went praying for no rain and a dramatic drop in temperature. It was about 40F as Niko and I got our gear together and bolted for the hills.
I think we got up two lifts before the rain started. We decided early it was going to be a short day, and it was. By the time we left the mountain the snow level had dropped a bit, it was snowing at the top of the first lift, about an inch an hour and at the top of the mountain it was dumping. When we got down to the bottom, after skiing past some horses at the first plateau, I had to ring out my gloves three times and all of our clothes were hung to dry next to the furnace.
Jen was locked in her room with her head spinning circles. Fortunately the medicine was working.
I sat down after skiing for some bread and cheese.
Appetizer was more frois grois. Dinner was pasta and Niko was in trouble for saying that you never mix gnocchi with farfalle. Oh, and some lovely red wine. Jen was bolted in her room, couldnt move and ready, with any movement, to barf again.
The next morning, after another restless sleep, I got up to rally Vincent and Elise for a day at Avoriaz. We walked to the Gondola and up we went for the time of my life. They started slow and we took the initiative to get across the alps into switzerland, take the long road round the back, below Dents Blanches and then ski hard back into Avoriaz, then the bus home. The clouds socked us in good. Then suddenly, they parted... horizontally. As I pulled out the camera, the run went from misty with a sliver of blue across the horizon, to clear with clouds above and below. Vincent and Elise went down for the last run. I was pooped, I fell on ice ran over dirt and pulled my boots off the second we were down.
Appetizers were bread and cheese, frois grois and champaign, then into Raclette for dinner with a grille on the table and Jen on the couch watching the fun. At least she was down stairs now.
The kids were having a great time as we were wrapping up our day and telling our stories of the low-ceiling swiss chalet and great snow at the top. We woke in the am to pack and get ready to leave, the sky was dramatic and the air crisp.
To Dole we went.
In the night I awoke to the most aweful sound any skier can hear, other than a breaking bone... RAIN. It must have rained for at least three hours. I was sooooo bummed out. I had already rented my gear the evening before and the thought of skiing in the rain reminded me of the good old days of Big Bear. I hadnt travelled to the famed French Alps to compare the snow to Los Angeles... but it seems I did. Then the next sound you never want to hear... "I dont feel good," followed shortly by heaving and splashing in a plastic trash can. I listened until she was over the hump and took the can, flushed the contents, rinsed, then back to bed to sleep while Jen wondered which cheese or which child got her sick.
The morning was dry but the clouds sat heavy in the sky, just like Jen's stomach in her gut. Jen was going to have to tolerate another day of kids with Florence and Elise and Vincent even being as sick as she was. Fortunately Vincent was a doctor and prescribed some antiemtics and pain/cramping meds and I ran down to the pharmacy with my favorite phrase in mind "Je no pal pas francais." 8€ for her meds and back I went praying for no rain and a dramatic drop in temperature. It was about 40F as Niko and I got our gear together and bolted for the hills.
I think we got up two lifts before the rain started. We decided early it was going to be a short day, and it was. By the time we left the mountain the snow level had dropped a bit, it was snowing at the top of the first lift, about an inch an hour and at the top of the mountain it was dumping. When we got down to the bottom, after skiing past some horses at the first plateau, I had to ring out my gloves three times and all of our clothes were hung to dry next to the furnace.
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| From Morzine, France |
Jen was locked in her room with her head spinning circles. Fortunately the medicine was working.
I sat down after skiing for some bread and cheese.
Appetizer was more frois grois. Dinner was pasta and Niko was in trouble for saying that you never mix gnocchi with farfalle. Oh, and some lovely red wine. Jen was bolted in her room, couldnt move and ready, with any movement, to barf again.
The next morning, after another restless sleep, I got up to rally Vincent and Elise for a day at Avoriaz. We walked to the Gondola and up we went for the time of my life. They started slow and we took the initiative to get across the alps into switzerland, take the long road round the back, below Dents Blanches and then ski hard back into Avoriaz, then the bus home. The clouds socked us in good. Then suddenly, they parted... horizontally. As I pulled out the camera, the run went from misty with a sliver of blue across the horizon, to clear with clouds above and below. Vincent and Elise went down for the last run. I was pooped, I fell on ice ran over dirt and pulled my boots off the second we were down.
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| From Morzine, France |
Appetizers were bread and cheese, frois grois and champaign, then into Raclette for dinner with a grille on the table and Jen on the couch watching the fun. At least she was down stairs now.
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| From Morzine, France |
The kids were having a great time as we were wrapping up our day and telling our stories of the low-ceiling swiss chalet and great snow at the top. We woke in the am to pack and get ready to leave, the sky was dramatic and the air crisp.
To Dole we went.
02 January 2007
Travelling to Morzine, France
You would think that saving a few hundred bucks and taking the trains across Europe on a Eurail Pass would be worth it. I may have to disagree, eventhough I spent the 100€ each on a 2 person sleeper car, just to be comfortable and sleep well. Both Jen and I thought that an overnight train would be a great way to get across France.
Itinerary
Train 1: Amsterdam to Basel SBB
Train 2: Basel SBB to Geneve
Tram: Geneve to Geneve Aux Vives
Train 3: Geneve Aux Vives to Annemasse
Train 4: Annemasse to Thonon (Planned)
Bus: Thonon to Morzine
Let's see, how did this go...
1. Got to Amsterdam Centraal with 1hr to departure. Left Jen in a restaurant to eat while I went to validate our Eurail Pass and find out what platform to depart. The line was long and I waited for about 35 minutes. Finally got back to the restaurant and Jen hadn't ordered, she was waiting for me, we rushed an order and the check and tried to choke down as much food and wit bier as we could in 15 minutes. We walk back downstairs, across the station, upstairs and wait by a train going to Munich, where we were confused. Then verified we were indeed going to the correct place if on correct, assigned car (detaches and retaches in night).
2. Funny steward told us that other American's angry that after 6000 miles of travel they get on a european train only to be served sierra valley Gallo wine. I drank mine and Jen's, then off to sleep. Should have had a dramamine with the wine because without fail I couldn't sleep deeply. So there I was in a bed rocking and rolling all night long only to get up, take some weird closet shower, eat my croissant and tea, then jump off the train after the police go running past me in the corridor.
3. Arrive in Basel on 2 hours of sleep and navigate an unfamiliar station. So tired, I don't really remember what it was like. All I remember is that we had to go up some stairs, read the board, orient to the tracks, down some stairs, on to another track and chuck the bags onto the other train, doors close and off we go.
4. Arrive in Geneve after a 2 hour scenic lake-side travel and get TOTALLY LOST. Now we were in deep. Everyone spoke french and I had no idea what anything read or what anyone said. We had 40 minutes to try to eat and traverse to Geneve Aux Vives. We could not find any signs or information on how to get there. Finally, Jen rose up and got her french on and got us oriented to the Tram Info desk and we found out: number 16 tram for 3€. It took us about 10 minutes to find the tram stop, after buying a croissant and a coffee in the station and listening to a french woman tell us she cried on 9/11 abruptly after telling Jen her french was horrible. We zig-zag across the front of the station and find the right tram stop. The tram was just about to go and we opened door... I immediately turned and ran to the ticket kiosk and well, in the time it took me to find the francs in my pocket the tram took off. So we waited. The next car came in like 5 minutes, whew.
5. Arrive at some forgotten train stop on some brick lined street after passing watch shop after clock shop and we are lost. No signs to the Gare (Train Station). Jen gets up guts and asks a french granny for directions. We pass down an old street and left round a corner... there is the station, so small, that driving a car I'd have missed it. We walk in, confused I realize that through a window I can see our train. With one minute to go, I walk in to an office, show a man our itinerary, he points vigorously at the train, runs to the door, and shoes us across the tracks speaking in tongues. We literally throw the bags on, put them in the rack, and before we had our coats off the train was on its way. I think it was 85 degrees F on that train, it was disgusting, fortunately, only 15 minutes to Annemasse.
6. Arrive in Annemass. We ask a conductor for directions/information on how to get to Thonon. Our original itinerary was to go to Cluses, but Florence discovered that buses ran only every 3 hours and we would miss the bus and have to wait in Cluses forever. So, we asked the conductor, how do we get to Thonon where a bus would be waiting. He said, Go to Track A, get on the back of the train, it will go one way and the front another. We were told to go to St Germain, well I didn't pull out a map and it sounded reasonable. Don't go to Evian he said. Fair enough, to track A we went. We were sitting there, I was wiping the dog shit off my boot and wheel of my suitcase and a train arrived. All the people waiting at track A had now gone to C where the train sat. I go and look at the screen and realized the track's changed. Jen can't run, so I go bolting off with both suitcases. I was swimming upstream on the stairs with all the arrivees congesting the entire area. I clobbered a couple people, yelled back at jen, and off we went to jump, one more time, onto a train. This time however, we got to the train, it started to move, eventhough conductors all outside, and with the train moving I chuck jens bag onto the car and I jump on with mine in hand and reach my other hand out to Jen. The train stopped. Jen get's on, we get seated and WAIT. Turns out they were just detaching the two halves, one to Evian the other to St Germain. It was hot on the train, I was sweaty, and now, just laughing at the whole thing. We proceed deep up a mountain valley and thinking we were going lakeside again, but rather somehow going up the other side, we were confused when it seemed Thonon was never going to arrive. Then we hear it, Cluses. Damn, we went the wrong way, got the wrong information, and should have been on the Evian train. haha.
7. Arrive in Cluses (Klooss). We walk immediately to the information booth. Jen talking about food and needing to sit. I just wanted to get our tickets and a time-table first. We met a man that spoke no english, sent us inside to buy our bus tickets. Inside we were sent outside to buy our bus tickets. As we step out the door, the bus was just backing up. In small marker print, at the bottom of a list, in the window, I read MORZINE. I go waving my arms and he stops the bus, pulls back into the parking spot, takes us onboard, sells us each a bus ticket and off we go, up the steep windy roads, Jen no food and nauseaus and me smiling at the volumes of snow on the trees as we ascend the mountain.
8. Arrive in Morzine. Niko was supposed to be waiting for us. We waited at the bus area next to the tourist office for almost an hour standing in the cold snow. Turns out he was waiting at the intra-resort bus stop and we were at the inter-city stop. Finally we come across him, he says, oh we will be at the house in a minute, then takes us to the ski-school and we, again, wait in the snow for another 15 minutes or so, this time in the shade. I was done at this point! Finally we make it back to the house. Starving and ready for a serious meal, we had bread and bread and bread and cheese and cheese and cheese. I was stoked, but later we would find out that Jen is not so good with the ripe cheese.
--
And well... Yeah, it was worth it!
We agree that an overnight train is a great way to get across France.
Itinerary
Train 1: Amsterdam to Basel SBB
Train 2: Basel SBB to Geneve
Tram: Geneve to Geneve Aux Vives
Train 3: Geneve Aux Vives to Annemasse
Train 4: Annemasse to Thonon (Planned)
Bus: Thonon to Morzine
Let's see, how did this go...
1. Got to Amsterdam Centraal with 1hr to departure. Left Jen in a restaurant to eat while I went to validate our Eurail Pass and find out what platform to depart. The line was long and I waited for about 35 minutes. Finally got back to the restaurant and Jen hadn't ordered, she was waiting for me, we rushed an order and the check and tried to choke down as much food and wit bier as we could in 15 minutes. We walk back downstairs, across the station, upstairs and wait by a train going to Munich, where we were confused. Then verified we were indeed going to the correct place if on correct, assigned car (detaches and retaches in night).
2. Funny steward told us that other American's angry that after 6000 miles of travel they get on a european train only to be served sierra valley Gallo wine. I drank mine and Jen's, then off to sleep. Should have had a dramamine with the wine because without fail I couldn't sleep deeply. So there I was in a bed rocking and rolling all night long only to get up, take some weird closet shower, eat my croissant and tea, then jump off the train after the police go running past me in the corridor.
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| From Morzine, France |
3. Arrive in Basel on 2 hours of sleep and navigate an unfamiliar station. So tired, I don't really remember what it was like. All I remember is that we had to go up some stairs, read the board, orient to the tracks, down some stairs, on to another track and chuck the bags onto the other train, doors close and off we go.
4. Arrive in Geneve after a 2 hour scenic lake-side travel and get TOTALLY LOST. Now we were in deep. Everyone spoke french and I had no idea what anything read or what anyone said. We had 40 minutes to try to eat and traverse to Geneve Aux Vives. We could not find any signs or information on how to get there. Finally, Jen rose up and got her french on and got us oriented to the Tram Info desk and we found out: number 16 tram for 3€. It took us about 10 minutes to find the tram stop, after buying a croissant and a coffee in the station and listening to a french woman tell us she cried on 9/11 abruptly after telling Jen her french was horrible. We zig-zag across the front of the station and find the right tram stop. The tram was just about to go and we opened door... I immediately turned and ran to the ticket kiosk and well, in the time it took me to find the francs in my pocket the tram took off. So we waited. The next car came in like 5 minutes, whew.
 |
| From Morzine, France |
5. Arrive at some forgotten train stop on some brick lined street after passing watch shop after clock shop and we are lost. No signs to the Gare (Train Station). Jen gets up guts and asks a french granny for directions. We pass down an old street and left round a corner... there is the station, so small, that driving a car I'd have missed it. We walk in, confused I realize that through a window I can see our train. With one minute to go, I walk in to an office, show a man our itinerary, he points vigorously at the train, runs to the door, and shoes us across the tracks speaking in tongues. We literally throw the bags on, put them in the rack, and before we had our coats off the train was on its way. I think it was 85 degrees F on that train, it was disgusting, fortunately, only 15 minutes to Annemasse.
6. Arrive in Annemass. We ask a conductor for directions/information on how to get to Thonon. Our original itinerary was to go to Cluses, but Florence discovered that buses ran only every 3 hours and we would miss the bus and have to wait in Cluses forever. So, we asked the conductor, how do we get to Thonon where a bus would be waiting. He said, Go to Track A, get on the back of the train, it will go one way and the front another. We were told to go to St Germain, well I didn't pull out a map and it sounded reasonable. Don't go to Evian he said. Fair enough, to track A we went. We were sitting there, I was wiping the dog shit off my boot and wheel of my suitcase and a train arrived. All the people waiting at track A had now gone to C where the train sat. I go and look at the screen and realized the track's changed. Jen can't run, so I go bolting off with both suitcases. I was swimming upstream on the stairs with all the arrivees congesting the entire area. I clobbered a couple people, yelled back at jen, and off we went to jump, one more time, onto a train. This time however, we got to the train, it started to move, eventhough conductors all outside, and with the train moving I chuck jens bag onto the car and I jump on with mine in hand and reach my other hand out to Jen. The train stopped. Jen get's on, we get seated and WAIT. Turns out they were just detaching the two halves, one to Evian the other to St Germain. It was hot on the train, I was sweaty, and now, just laughing at the whole thing. We proceed deep up a mountain valley and thinking we were going lakeside again, but rather somehow going up the other side, we were confused when it seemed Thonon was never going to arrive. Then we hear it, Cluses. Damn, we went the wrong way, got the wrong information, and should have been on the Evian train. haha.
7. Arrive in Cluses (Klooss). We walk immediately to the information booth. Jen talking about food and needing to sit. I just wanted to get our tickets and a time-table first. We met a man that spoke no english, sent us inside to buy our bus tickets. Inside we were sent outside to buy our bus tickets. As we step out the door, the bus was just backing up. In small marker print, at the bottom of a list, in the window, I read MORZINE. I go waving my arms and he stops the bus, pulls back into the parking spot, takes us onboard, sells us each a bus ticket and off we go, up the steep windy roads, Jen no food and nauseaus and me smiling at the volumes of snow on the trees as we ascend the mountain.
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| From Morzine, France |
8. Arrive in Morzine. Niko was supposed to be waiting for us. We waited at the bus area next to the tourist office for almost an hour standing in the cold snow. Turns out he was waiting at the intra-resort bus stop and we were at the inter-city stop. Finally we come across him, he says, oh we will be at the house in a minute, then takes us to the ski-school and we, again, wait in the snow for another 15 minutes or so, this time in the shade. I was done at this point! Finally we make it back to the house. Starving and ready for a serious meal, we had bread and bread and bread and cheese and cheese and cheese. I was stoked, but later we would find out that Jen is not so good with the ripe cheese.
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| From Morzine, France |
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And well... Yeah, it was worth it!
We agree that an overnight train is a great way to get across France.
01 January 2007
New Years Hangover
The sounds of a crying baby made us perfectly aware that as a parent, or even a friend of a parent, a major headache and lack of sleep can very easily drive you mad as your child cries from diaper rash and three poops in the night.
Morning came too soon and Henri and Sophia and Tigo, asleep on the floor when we came in, were now awake and after kicking his cold the day before were ready to take us to see tulips and the dunes. FORGET IT!
I went back to bed three times after trying to get up. They had to carry all their things down the stairs in multiple trips without me. I was in no condition to come back up six flights of spiralling stairs as the song in my head played norwegian death metal accompanied by the rockets blasting from the night before. A motrin and a glass of juice, I layed down my last time. I didnt even hear them leave. I think it was the lack of a crying/upset Tigo that made me wake up. Made some lunch, then back for a nap. Up for dinner, then to bed for a good sleep.
Tomorrow, mellow day, then in the evening, off to France for some skiing on the Swiss border.
Wish us luck.
Morning came too soon and Henri and Sophia and Tigo, asleep on the floor when we came in, were now awake and after kicking his cold the day before were ready to take us to see tulips and the dunes. FORGET IT!
I went back to bed three times after trying to get up. They had to carry all their things down the stairs in multiple trips without me. I was in no condition to come back up six flights of spiralling stairs as the song in my head played norwegian death metal accompanied by the rockets blasting from the night before. A motrin and a glass of juice, I layed down my last time. I didnt even hear them leave. I think it was the lack of a crying/upset Tigo that made me wake up. Made some lunch, then back for a nap. Up for dinner, then to bed for a good sleep.
Tomorrow, mellow day, then in the evening, off to France for some skiing on the Swiss border.
Wish us luck.
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