Tour de France: September 6-21, 2011.

By John Meyer (with editorial comments by Lyne)9/6-Tuesday - Courtney and Stella picked us up and took us to the Airport for our 11:44 a.m. flight to Chicago-Montreal-Paris. We met Brian and Lyne in Montreal, where we took an overnight flight to CDG in Paris. My new knee set off buzzers at the screening so I got a free pat down. The flight on Air Canada was rather unremarkable and seemed to go fairly quickly.

9/7-Wednesday - We arrived at about 6:00 a.m. and after some confusion (we couldn’t get the rear hatch to open) over the rental car we were off to see if we could get into our hotel. Our BMW station wagon had a GPS so we were good to go. The GPS would prove to be a God send. It seems that all of the drivers are in a race to their demise, especially those on motor scooters and motor cycles. Loretta is not feeling well, as she has flu-like symptoms. ( Poor Loretta! )

One room was available when we got to the hotel and the Jenner’s were kind enough to let us have it so Loretta could rest. The rest of us went to a corner café and had coffee and people watched-very interesting. ( John was living his dream of what a vacation in France should be)

After Lyne and Brian checked in, we all took a nap. After a bit of a rest, we met in the garden for a glass of wine and then another short nap. At 6:30 p.m. we walked to a café for an early dinner and off to bed and tried to catch up on our rest. We plan to meet at 9:30 a.m. and take a short walk to the Eiffel Tower to catch the tour bus for Paris.

9/8 Thursday - While sitting out watching the sights and sounds of Paris, I have the following observations: fashionably dressed young women smoking as they walked with ear buds in their ears, children holding their parents hands as the go to school, lots of traffic and noise.

This morning we trudged to the Eiffel Tower, which was supposed to be a short 20 minute walk, turned into about a 2 mile walk. (I underestimated the distance, just a tad!) I was dead after that. (Sorry my dear big baby)

We sat up top of our tour bus, weather was nice, and took in all of the sights, Arch De Triumph, Notre Dame Cathedral, les Champs Elysées, le Louvre, Old Paris, Palace de L’Opera, Montmartre, the Left Bank, Latin Quarter, the Seine River, Trocadero, so many sights and so many people that it boggles your mind. After returning to the hotel, tired but filled with the sights of Paris, we sat in the garden of the hotel and had a few libations of wine and/or vodka. Ice seems to be a very rare commodity in France. We passed on dinner this evening as we were too tired to care to eat.

9/9 Friday - Loretta is not feeling well again today. (But she never complainned…dear Loretta) I went out to Starbucks for coffee and pastry, which is so flaky it is hard not to eat it in a few bites. Starting at the corner from our hotel we took 3 different Metro lines to get to Notre Dame.(almost as much walking as in going to the Eiffel Tower) On the way someone tried to steel Loretta’s purse. Thank you Brian for protecting her.

Some observations: Hugh variety of ethnic population, mixed ethnic couples, very ornate buildings, tourists, and more tourists. Notre Dame is as beautiful as I expected, very long line to enter. (Loretta and I stood in line while Brian and you sat waiting!!!! ) We took the Batobus (tour boat) for a ride down the Seine, from which we saw the Eiffel Tower, Champs Elysees, Musee D’Orsay, Louvre, St-Germain Dès-Prés, Notre Dame, Hotel De Ville and Jardin Des Plantes, among other sights, all from the river. We ate lunch at a pleasant sidewalk café in the Latin Quarter. Needless to say we took a cab back to the hotel.

After we got back to the hotel we set up shop again in the garden, drank wine and finished the vodka and listened to the voices of the school children on the other side of the high walled garden, in their school playground. No dinner again tonight, we had a big lunch so sandwiches and a banana from Starbucks sufficed. Another lovely day. Brian is correct when he said 3 days in Vegas and 3 days in Paris are enough. Paris was big but awe inspiring and wonderful.

9/10 Saturday - We had Paris in our rear view mirror by 9:00 a.m. and drove to the Champagne Region. All the vineyards were closed as the grapes had already been harvested. We were disappointed. (I’ll make it up to him in Naples) We drove on to Langres, to the Hotel De La Poste, supposedly the oldest hotel in France. Brian was kind enough to take my suffering wife to a local hospital where it was determined that she had an ear infection. She was prescribed medication and we hope it will solve her problems. Langres is a walled city, very quaint, narrow streets (all 1 way). We walked around the city, had pizza for dinner and off to dreamland.

9/11 Sunday - We had a very early breakfast at a sidewalk café (great pastry) and then on to Arles, another walled city. After driving for about 6 hours, were arrived in Arles and our hotel was smack dab in the middle of the town square, which was filled with people who were enjoying a beautiful afternoon with food and liquid libation. As we checked into our hotel, Brian went off to find the rarest of town features, a parking space . Our hotel was clean and inexpensive, but, without a lift. Our rooms were only up 2 flights with a curved stairway. A very kind biker helped us up (and down) with our bags.

We all had paella for lunch, which was all they had on this day, since they were celebrating the Fête du Riz (rice festival). And that night the Festival culminated with the Corrida (bull fight). I didn’t see 1 grain of rice but, I did see the bull fights. Brian ran into a man he knew who was once the Canadian ambasador to ICAO. He had come over to Arles to attend his 50th Corrida.

We walked to the 1700 year old Roman arena for the bull fights. Brian and the young women who sat in from of me were able to explain all of the intricacies of the action to me. It is very ritualized and full of pomp and circumstance. There were 3 matadores who would each fought 2 bulls. Each had their own Picadores and Banderilleros. I enjoyed the event and the experience. After the fights, we sat out at a café and had a drink and people watched. Got good night’s sleep.

9/12 Monday - Our next city to visit is Saint Paul de Vence, another walled city with our hotel having a gorgeous view of valley below. We are on the Cote d’Azur or the French Rivera. Of course our hotel is sans lift and 85 steps up to our room. As we arrived and Brian was backing up to park, he bumped into a guy behind him. No damage but Brian settled the matter for 20 Euro.

We had a marvelous, although very expensive, lunch overlooking the small town fountain. We walked out of the walled portion of the city to a café, where we were able to watch the locals play their version of Bocce ball. Saint Paul is very charming, however, very expensive city, 50cls of beer was 9 Euro. This town is full of shops but very few restaurants. Most restaurants opened in the evening at 7 or 7:30 p.m. (Loretta and I adored shopping in narrow streets in St-Paul) 9/13 Tuesday - I got up and tried to find a cup of coffee somewhere in town but no luck, everything was closed. I returned to the hotel and low and behold, coffee and croissants were available there. The view from the restaurant of the valley was eye opening. The four of us had breakfast together.

We then drove along the shoreline of the Cote d’Azur through Cannes, Antibes, Nice and Monaco, which is the second smallest country in the world, besides the Vatican. The tales of women being topless along the sea shore are true. I told Brian we were driving too fast. We took a tram ride around Monaco and saw the Palace, Casino, the Grand Prix circuit and the beautiful waterfront filled with very expensive yachts of the rich and famous.

On return to St-Paul, we never ate lunch because we couldn’t find a place open. So we had a drink at the hotel and walked outside the gates to see the Bocce ball players again. We had a great meal in town at a sidewalk café run by an Asian women and her husband: (snails, foie gras, leg of lamb, tarte Tatin… YUM YUM)Random Thoughts: Millions of motor scooters and motorcycles, very expensive food and drink, extremely narrow streets, people blow their car horns a lot, lots of smokers, gray granite everywhere, great weather, people didn’t smile much, lots of green space, houses perched on the side of hills, small cars, few parking spaces, The Alps, well dressed women, thank goodness for Brian and Lyne and their ability to speak French and having been to France multiple times.

9/14 Wednesday - Sitting on the patio eating breakfast it is breathtaking to see the sun rise behind the hotel and light up the valley in front of me. The houses are bathed in sun light as one by one the sun rises on the homes. With the Alps in the background, the view is stunning.

We are on our way to Grasse to see where and how all of the perfume in the world is made. We are also on the lookout for a Tour de France biking jersey for our son-in-law (we had no luck as they are put away after the race is over). We asked at one biking store for a yellow Tour de France shirt and the manager said that people usually have to win one. I thought this was quite funny.

We decided to have a picnic lunch so we purchased all of the makings at a real big and nice grocery store and the checkout girl told us of a neat spot to have the lunch. We drove for about 20 minutes high up into the Alps through a small town (Gourdon) to a picnic area overlooking a breathtaking valley. Getting to the picnic spot was a bit scary but the view was magnificent.

After lunch, we took the ladies to the Fragonard perfume factory so they could tour and shop. Brian and I sat outside and people watched. It was a very busy place with busloads of people visiting. (The Fragonard facility smelled beautiful: perfume to Loretta and I – euros to the manufacturer!!!)

We drove home (Brian doing the vast majority of it), and had a few drinks overlooking the valley (women shopped) then took a walk for some ice cream (later we ate the leftovers from our picnic lunch)9/15 Thursday - Breakfast today was not normal. Yes, I had my two cups of café-au-lait, 3 small croissants, 2 pieces of bread and jam, but, last night I asked the owner’s daughter if I could have eggs the next day and sure enough out came 2 fried eggs, sunny side up. It was a welcome treat.

We went to the Chapelle du Rosaire & Espace Matisse in Vence to see the chapel where Henri Matisse painted the walls with the stations of the cross and other of his works. There is also a small museum where hang more of his works and some priest’s vestments he designed. His works are very simple, almost childlike. (Brian and John made short work of the chapel but Loretta liked sat through the full explanation by one of the sisters. Matisse is one of my favorite painters ... I couldn’t miss that)We then drove to Mougins and had a great lunch at the Mecenate Restaurant. We were one day away from seeing the big Culinary Festival taking place there. All the great French chefs were to attend. They expected 10, 000 people to show up with no parking places and very narrow streets. Tell the truth, I was glad we were a day early (and I was very disappointed since I love to cook and french chefs are my heroes) We went back to the hotel, took a nap and sat out by the water fountain and people watched. At 7:30 p.m. we went back to eat at the sidewalk café run by the Asian women and her husband.

9/16 Friday - Today we leave for Aix-En-Provence. Getting there, we drove through the Gorge of Verdon, which is France’s version of our Grand Canyon. Going across the Gorge it is very winding on a very narrow road. Poor Loretta was afraid to look out her window as this kind of driving makes her very nervous. The Gorge is beautiful with a river running through it.

We stopped at a little town, Moustiers Ste. Marie (the kingdom of FAÏENCE – a kind of porcelain), and had crepes for lunch. It was a very quaint, little village where the women again shopped. Somehow, I got separated from the rest of them and after a while I was found wandering aimlessly at the edge of town.

We continued to Aix-en-Provence, called “the city of a thousand fountains” driving through cut fields of lavender, which is used in the making of perfume. I can’t imagine the wonderful smell and gorgeous blue color before it is harvested. I’m not sure how the French farmers can grow any crops as their fields seem to be nothing but rocks, but they do. When we get to our hotel in Aix, we are on the fourth floor and the best news is that it has a lift.

You drop your bags on a busy street in front of the hotel, check in and then drive the car around the back to the parking lot. Two security type gates must be opened before all of this happens. It was great people watching as the street in front of our hotel, the Grand Hotel Negre Coste is the main avenue in town called Cours Mirabeau. We ate next door at an outdoor cafe, which was pretty good except for the fact that a bird defecated on my shoulder (….it looked like red wine John!!!) Some more random thoughts about France : Men wearing rolled up blue jeans and purses, noisy motorbikes, roundabouts, small cars, very few parking places, strong coffee, toll roads, pigeons, NY Yankee baseball caps in different colors.

9/17 Saturday - I had my coffee at a table in front of the hotel and watched all of the students walking by. All of us then walked to the most interesting market I’ve ever seen. It occurs on Wednesdays and Saturdays. On one side they have every kind of spice, cheese, meats, fish, mushrooms, olives, bread, fruits and vegetables. It goes on and on. (We unfortunately missed the flower market. Loretta and I bought dry sausages to bring back home.) Then on the other side, they have dry goods, like purses, statues etc. Then another section has clothes. It was really something, very interesting.

Brian and Lyne looked for and found a women they had met while the woman vacationed in Le Manoir Bellevue, at Les Escoumins, Lyne’s birthplace. She owns a fabric store in the center of Aix.

It seems strange to see people all over France walking along with a loaf of long French bread, under their arm. They buy their bread daily.

After the market, we drove a short way to Cassis, a seaside fishing village where we had lunch overlooking the harbor. We ate fish soup and mussels. We then took a boat ride on the Mediterranean to view a series of protected coves called Calanques, where people moor their boats and locals come to swim and relax. It was a pleasant boat ride. It seems to me that any time I see two women or girls walking by, one has brown hair and the other has blond. Maybe it is time to go back to the U.S. if this is what I am writing about.

9/18 Sunday - This was a very restful day, it was raining, so this was the only foul weather we had on the trip. Loretta and I had breakfast at the hotel as did Lyne and Brian before we left at 9:00 a.m. for a 2+ hour drive to Montpellier to the home of Marie-France and Jean- Pierre who are friends of Lyne and Brian. Their home is very modern and the landscaping is really neat. We ate a “typical French lunch” of lamb and potatoes along with Foie Gras, cheeses, bread, and desert from Le Nôtre bakery. Marie-France really went out of her way to really put on a great meal. They were both very kind to us. We had a wonderful visit and Brian and Jean-Pierre had a chance to catch up on old times. Loretta and I had met them when they were in Naples at Lyne and Brian condo last winter, a very nice couple.

That night, Loretta and I weren’t real hungry, so we grabbed a takeout pizza from a little stand and ate it in our room. (Brian and I went for pizza at the restaurant next door…I suspect Loretta would have preferred to come with us rather than eat take out pizza in her room????)9/19 Monday - We left beautiful Aix, the City of Fountains, after the other three had a last, brief shopping excursion, while I sat in front of the hotel and read and people watched (one of my favorite pastimes). On our drive to our next overnight stop, Perouges, a small Medieval village, we stopped for lunch at a small bar – restaurant run by a young couple. The kitchen was closed, but, the chef/husband fixed us up with some dry ham on the bone, cheese and bread along with tomatoes from Spain. We had some wine and it turned into one of the best lunches we had.

Our next destination, Perouges was founded in 1236 and is a pristinely preserved walled city with very narrow streets. It was founded by a Gallic colony returning from Perogia in Italy. We are only about 15 klicks from Lyon. Dinner tonight was at a small restaurant in the village. There is not much choice since there are only 2 places to eat.

9/20 Tuesday - Loretta and I had coffee in the restaurant of the hotel. 14 Euros for 2 cups of coffee. Lyne bought us each a piece of a sweet pizza type bread, called Galette de Pérouges. It hit the spot.

We have a long drive, over 500 km, to our final stop just outside Paris, quite near CDG. We had lunch at a truck stop on the toll road. We arrived at our hotel, Le Celtic at about 4:00 p.m. Our hotel is very clean and modern and chosen for its proximity to CDG Airport, in consideration of our next day’s departure. We had our final dinner in France with Brian and Lyne at the restaurant downstairs of the hotel and it was surprisingly very good.

9/21 Wednesday - Up early and ready to fly home. Brian and Lyne dropped us off at terminal 2 for our flight to Newark. Continental (our airline) fly’s out of terminal 1. So after some confusion; we took the train to terminal 1 and made our flight. Continental wanted $70 Euro for Loretta’s second checked bag. Not surprising, we carried it on. By the time we got through security and grabbed a coffee, it was time to board our 8 ½ hour flight to the States (Loretta told me Customs found her sausages from Aix-en-Provence on arrival in Newark but I suspect she lost her nerve and declared it). We flew from Newark to Cleveland to Green Bay where Courtney picked us up at 9:15 p.m. A very long and tiring day.

France was beautiful but very expensive, really old cities, great food. Traveling with Brian and Lyne was a pleasure for us (and for us too). They were easy to be with and did a great job of planning our trip. All in all it was a wonderful experience for both Loretta and I. (Brian and me are ready for another trip with John and Loretta, anytime/anywhere. Love and thanks, dear John, for this wonderful chronicle. XXXX Lyne)

La folie du Purell

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J’aimerais bien savoir si vous êtes d’accord avec moi : la désinfection des mains prend des proportions inquiétantes. Loin de moi l’idée de faire l’éloge de la malpropreté mais il y a quand même des limites. Je considère que je suis « normalement » propre : je me lave les mains avant de toucher la nourriture, après la toilette, quand je reviens de faire mes commissions et à toutes les occasions jugées opportunes . Bref mes mains sont propres…dans mon livre à moi.

Cette année en Floride l’asepsie atteint des sommets qui frisent le ridicule. Impossible de faire un pas sans la petite bouteille de Purell…..comme dirait maman Madeleine « y’a toujours un boutte »…trop c’est trop.

Si la tendance se maintient on devra se Purelliser en sortant de la douche. Mon portable est blanc, je suis la seule à l’utiliser et bien ce matin j’ai nettoyé les touches de mon clavier avec…du Purell…c’est d’ailleurs ce qui m’a incité à écrire cette chronique. Je Purellise mon ordi!!! AYOYE : je me PURELLISE. Le Purell est omniprésent dans nos vies : une petite bouteille dans le sac à main, dans la voiture, dans la poche de pantalon, sur la table du balcon.

Même Brian a succombé : imaginez mon grand 6.1 qui se Purellise. J’en suis à me demander si la compagnie Purell est cotée en Bourse…ils ont peut-être lancé une conspiration mondiale pour nous rendre tous hypocondriaques…

Au Publix (l’équivalent de Provigo au Québec) il y a même du Purell pour désinfecter le panier d’épicerie…..

Je suis d’accord que le lavage des mains est primordial…mais faudrait pas en faire une maladie.

C’est ici que se termine ma chronique. Je vais de ce pas consulter le marché
boursier. Si Purell est coté, j’achèterai quelques actions de cette compagnie propre propre….

Zut! C'est une entreprise non cotée à la bourse! Alors on conteste comme on peut.

The Purell Frenzie

I consider myself a normally clean person: I generally wash my hands at each appropriate opportunity: before touching food, after using the washroom, when I come back from shopping. In my book, I consider my hands to be among the cleanest I know. But I think that hand disinfection in the general population may be attaining disturbing proportions.

I certainly do not want to promote filthiness, there are limits, but public antisepsis seems to have reached ridiculous levels. It’s now almost impossible to take a step without running into a bottle of “Purell Antiseptic Lotion”; as my mother Madeleine would say, enough is enough.

If the tendency continues we will have to “Purellize” ourselves when we get out of the shower. My PC is white and I’m the only one that touches it: well this morning I found myself cleaning my keyboard with “Purell”; that’s what prompted me to write this chronicle, I am becoming obsessed. I “Purellized” my PC! Ouch! I’m Purellizing myself!

Purell seems to be ever-present in our lives: a small bottle in the purse, one in the car, one in our pockets, one on the balcony table, in grocery stores they now have Purell, to disinfect your shopping cart.

Even Brian fell for it: can you imagine my 6 foot “man” constantly using Purell? I wonder if the Purell Company started a global conspiracy to turn us into a society of hypochondriacs…

I agree that washing hands is essential, but let’s not get hysterical.

On the other hand maybe “Purelization” could be the way to a prosperous future. I am going to check the Stock Exchange right away. If Purell Inc. is listed I will buy a bunch of shares and then join the conspiracy myself.

Zut! It's a private company. Might as well get down and dirty. with the rest of them.

Quand maman s'est mariée, grand-maman me gardait (scroll down for English version)

De nos jours les jeunes décident de procréer en évitant de s’embarrasser de conventions désuètes…rien de plus attendrissant que d’assister à un mariage avec de jeunes enfants qui suivent papa et maman en robe blanche… Grand-maman Valéda ne me gardait pas au mariage de maman. Je suis née un an après le mariage de mes parents….maman Madeleine était réglo.

Si j’ai cru que ma grand-mère que j’adorais me gardait pendant le mariage de maman c’est que j’ai passé une très grande partie de ma vie de toute petite fille chez-elle dans sa belle grande maison qui a malheureusement été rasée par le feu. Grand-maman était tout sauf une femme au foyer…la bouffe, le ménage, le quotidien ne l’intéressait pas tellement.

Grand-maman était une femme émancipée, élégante et raffinée. Elle était directrice du service téléphonique du village et gérait également le service de messagerie de Bell Téléphone. J’étais sa première petite fille et elle était ma marraine. C’est ainsi que je me retrouvais pas mal souvent chez-elle.

Assise sur ses genoux alors que j’avais 4 ou 5 ans j’ai appris à lire et beaucoup appris de la vie. Son travail et celui de ses employées consistait à s’asseoir devant le « central téléphonique » : mystérieux tableau rempli de numéros de téléphone et de tout petits trous sous chaque numéro servant de courbe de transmission entre les abonnés. De grands fils reliaient Madame Gagnon numéro 43 désirant parler avec Madame Beaulieu au numéro 67 : grand-maman magicienne les mettait en contact.


Ma grand-mère m’appelait son assistante . Asssise sur elle, mon travail consistait à pointer les numéros de madame Roussel et de madame Therrien sur le « switch board ». Lors de mon apprentissage comme assistante je réalisai un jour qu’il était possible d’entendre les conversations entre les abonnés et je présentai à ma grand-mère une grande requête : « Grand-maman j’aimerais ça écouter ce que les madames racontent. »

Elle m’a alors fait une leçon de vie que j’ai retenue. « Je te donne la permission d’écouter mais tu ne dois jamais répéter les conversations que tu entends…elle essayait de me transmettre sa plus grande qualité : la discrétion. Comme elle le disait si bien le passe-temps préféré des gens qui n’ont rien à dire c’est de parler des autres. Je n’ai jamais oublié mon apprentissage d’assistante .

[Grand-maman, tante Henriette et tante Louise]
Quelques années plus tard elle coordonnait le système téléphonique de l’hôpital St-Alexandre des Escoumins. Elle y a travaillé plusieurs années. Devinez quel est le premier emploi que j’ai occupé pendant mes vacances d’étudiante? Le poste de téléphoniste de grand-maman à l’hôpital. J’ai répété à mon tour la petite phrase tant de fois entendue « Téléphoniste bonjour ».

Un salut bien particulier à toutes celles qui ont travaillé pour ma grand-mère. J’aimerais les nommer mais j’ai trop peur d’en oublier. Elles étaient mes idoles…j’ai du les déranger parfois…XXX

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Grand-mama Babysat Me While Mom Got Married

Nowadays there is nothing scandalous about young people having children before getting married … as a result we often see young kids preceding their white gowned mom down the aisle. When my parents got married it was different; my grandmother Valeda did not take care of me during the wedding, I was born a year after their marriage… my mother respected the norms of her time.

Nonetheless, I believed that my grandmother babysat me during my parents’ marriage because I spent the majority of my childhood with her in the beautiful big house, that burned down about the time I became an adolescent.

My grandmother was everything except a housewife; cooking, cleaning and everyday chores did not interest her too much. She was emancipated, elegant and distinguished. She was manager of the local telephone service and also supervised the teletype message centre of Bell Telephone. I was her first granddaughter and she was my godmother. That’s why I was at her place so often.

Sitting on her knees when I was 4 or 5, she taught me how to read and I learned a lot of things about life. Her and her employees’ work consisted of sitting in front of a switchboard; a magical panel filled with telephone numbers and very small holes under each and many long wires which served as curved transmission lines between subscribers. For the time of a message, a chat and a bit gossip a wire would connect Mrs Gagnon number 43 to Mrs Beaulieu at number 67; my magician granny made it all happen.

My grandmother used to call me her assistant. While sitting on her lap, my work consisted in pointing the numbers of Mrs Roussel and Mrs Therrien … on the switchboard. During my training I realized that it was possible to hear the conversations between subscribers and I asked my grandmother a very big favour: «grandmother, could I listen to what people are saying? » She gave me a lesson of life that I remembered.

[Grand-maman, Aunt Henriette & Aunt Louise]

«You have my permission to listen but you must never reveal the conversations you hear»… she was trying to transmit her biggest quality: discretion. As she would say, the biggest pastime of people who have nothing to do is to talk about other people. I never forgot what I learned as her assistant.

Years later, she coordinated the telephone system of St. Alexander’s Hospital in the Escoumins. She worked there for many years. Guess what was my first summer vacation job when I was a student, Switchboard operator at the hospital. I repeated the little phrase that I had heard so many times «operator»

In telling this story I wish to salute all those who worked for my grandmother. I would like to name them but I am too afraid that I might forget someone. I must have been a pest for them sometimes but they were my idols… … xxx

Bécassine: l'histoire d'un tablier

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Au risque d’offenser monsieur le curé Bradette des Escoumins je vous raconte l’histoire du tablier de Bécassine à Fort Lauderdale ….il faut ce qu’il faut!!! J’espère que monsieur le curé me donnera l’absolution!

D’abord il faut se rappeler que toutes les femmes possèdent au moins un tablier… l’émancipation n’a pas réussi à nous départir du passage obligé quotidien : la bouffe et le ménage…et pour se garder pimpante et impeccable le tablier est incontournable. Maman Madeleine en fabrique de très beaux…

Toute petite, j’adorais lire les aventures de Bécassine : la naïve servante grassouillette venue de Bretagne pour gagner sa vie à Paris.

Bonne comme du bon pain, sa coiffe blanche dissimulant complètement sa chevelure…je soupçonne néanmoins qu’elle était blonde!!

Un jour, ma cousine Christine, connaissant ma passion m’a offert en cadeau, un tablier avec la photo de ma Bécassine adorée… j’étais contente …si contente que même après de multiples lavages mon tablier de Bécassine est encore un MUST…et il me permet de penser à Christine….

Ceci dit, il y a quelques années ma tante Céline habitait Fort Lauderdale en Floride pendant l’hiver. Nous étions invités chez-elle pour la soirée. Tout baignait dans l’huile. Notre motorisé, notre chien TouFou, Brian et moi étions stationnés dans un parc de motorisés (RV Park) pas loin de chez ma tante.

Notre voisin : un homme seul avec son chien, lavait son petit dogue sur la table de pique-nique juste à-côté de notre motorisé. Avant de partir chez ma tante, on se prépare donc pour prendre une douche…mais Brian pénètre dans la douche avant moi…mon Dieu…il y reste toujours une éternité…pourquoi ne pas en profiter pour faire un peu de ménage…comme je suis à poil, j’enfile le tablier de Bécassine…en attendant que Brian libère la douche.

En regardant mon voisin laver son chien je vois sur notre table de pique-nique nos livres, deux verres, une bouteille de Perrier…Oubliant que le tablier de Bécassine est ma seule parure…je sors dehors pour ramasser les livres, les verres…mais je n’ai que deux mains, je dois y retourner pour la bouteille de Perrier. Le voisin me regarde…lave son chien…me regarde, me lorgne….il ressemble à mon chien TouFou quand il flaire un biscuit…Je retourne une dernière fois dehors pour laver la table…

Brian sort enfin de la douche…Il me regarde : « Lyne j’adore ton tablier »!!!!

Je réalise alors que j’ai paradé devant le voisin vêtue uniquement de mon tablier de Bécassine. Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, mon Dieu…je voulais mourir de honte.

Nous sommes allés souper chez tante Céline… le lendemain matin nous quittions Fort Lauderdale…juste avant notre départ le voisin recommençait à laver son chien….il espérait probablement revoir le tablier de Bécassine ???

Bécassine's Apron

At the risk of offending Father Bradette, back in my home town of Les Escoumins, here’s the story of my “Bécassine Apron” … I do hope Father Bradette will find it in his heart to forgive me but for some unknown reason, I just have to tell this one!

First, you must remember that women’s lib did not succeed in freeing us from certain daily chores such as cooking and cleaning… and to keep us flawless and impeccable, wearing an apron is essential. So every woman still owns at least one apron.

Next you should know that when I was a little girl, I used to love reading the adventures of “Bécassine”: a naïve, slightly chubby, little maid who moved from Brittany to Paris, to earn a living.

She was as good as fresh bread and wore a white bonnet that completely hid her hair… I suspect she may have been a “blonde”. One day, my cousin Christine, aware of my juvenile passion, gave me an apron with the picture of my beloved Bécassine on it. I was very pleased, so pleased that I wore it religiously whenever doing chores. After numerous washings, my Bécassine apron is still my favourite.

Finally, a few years back, my aunt Celine, who lived in Fort Lauderdale Florida, invited Brian and I for dinner; our motorhome, our dog Toufou, Brian and I were in an RV Park, not far from her place. In preparation for the evening, Brian slipped into the shower just as I was about to. Since it always takes him quite some time to immerge, I thought why not do a little housecleaning while I wait my turn. Although I was naked, I slipped on my Bécassine apron out of habit.

Our neighbour (in an RV park that means 10 feet away),an older gentleman,who lived alone, was washing his little doggie, on a picnic table between our motorhomes. While glancing at our neighbour toiling over his dog, I notice our books, a couple glasses and a bottle of Perrier, on our picnic table … oblivious to the modesty of my cleaning attire, I rush out to clean up the picnic table before we leave. But I have only two hands so I have to go back to get the Perrier.

In passing I notice our neighbour looking at me somewhat idiotically, while mechanically scrubbing his dog … and looking at me again … somehow he vaguely reminds me of my dog smelling a biscuit … frankly, I thought his staring bordered on impolitely! … after all he was far too old to be showing any interest in me. By the time I went back a third time to wash the table. I thought my neighbour’s endless scrubbing might wear a whole in the dog.

While I am standing at the kitchen sink, Brian finally gets out of the shower… he comes up behind me … puts his arms around me affectionately and says: «Lyne, I just love your apron»!!!

I immediately realise why my neighbour was so boorish! Oh my God, oh my God… I am so embarrassed, I want to die. So as discreetly as possible, we scurry off to my aunt Celine’s for dinner.

The next morning, we start to prepare our departure from Fort Lauderdale … at the first sign of movement within our motorhome, our neighbour comes out and starts to wash his dog, again! … no doubt hoping to see my Bécassine Apron … one more time???

Dans le ventre du dragon: Croisière aux Îles Vierges

(Scroll down for English version)

Nous célébrons, en décembre, notre 35e anniversaire de mariage. Histoire de souligner l’évènement nous avons opté pour une croisière. C’est ainsi que nous quittons Naples pour Fort Lauderdale où le gigantesque paquebot italien MSC POESIA devient, pendant 10 jours, notre hôte pour cette première expérience en mer.

JOUR 1 : DÉPART DE FORT LAUDERDALE, FLORIDE
Arrivés à Port Everglades, nous nous dirigeons à la queue leu leu vers un immense hangar en direction du MSC POESIA hébergeant 3,000 passagers en plus de 1,800 membres d’équipage. La faune humaine nous entourant est disparate et déconcertante : couples de tous âges, petites et grosses « madames » parfumées, petites et grosses bedaines, quelques enfants et un nombre impressionnant d’hommes tatoués accompagnés de filles sexy aux seins généreusement siliconés : surprise! le navire est en grande partie nolisé par des « rockers »!

File d’attente…enregistrement: en échange de notre numéro de carte de crédit nous recevons l’incontournable « cruise card ». Adieu sac à main, porte-monnaie, cellulaires : vive la liberté !
Le numéro de notre chambre : 9084. Brian se déplace à une vitesse fulgurante : un pas pour lui, trois pas pour moi. Je le perds de vue. Merde… j’ai oublié le numéro de la chambre. Après quelques tentatives infructueuses : 9024, 9124, 9014 , je retourne à la réception afin de connaître le fameux numéro. Encore une file...35 minutes pour récupérer le fameux numéro et 15 autres pour trouver la chambre. Brian m’accueille avec un sourire narquois; tout est absolument impeccable dans notre chambre avec balcon.

Il est déjà temps d’aller souper… nous sommes 8 à notre table…MISÈRE. Les rockers sont charmants et polis. Malheureusement les motos, les moteurs, les courses et les tatouages ne font pas partie de nos sujets de conversation. Le repas terminé, le maître d’hôtel nous déniche une table pour deux. Notre serveur, Wirawan Ida Bagu ( Bagus), souriant et gentil, nous « chouchoutera » le reste du voyage.

JOUR 2 : COCO CAY, BAHAMAS
L’excursion à Coco Cay est annulée : la mer est trop houleuse. C’est au gym que commence la journée. De retour au 9084 je débute cette chronique. Brian lit sur le balcon. Je l’imiterai dans quelques instants : « Le Labyrinthe de la rose » par Titania Hardie que ma belle Christine Raymond m’a recommandé m’attend. Calme et délicieux souper à deux.

JOUR 3 : NASSAU SUR NEW PROVIDENCE ISLAND, BAHAMAS
Promenade dans la ville remplie de boutiques attrape-touristes: « for you my friend a special price »…les marchands des îles vendraient leur âme…à bon prix. Ce soir le souper-gala souligne la fin de la croisière de nos amis rockers. Au théâtre, sur des airs de Verdi et de Puccini se termine notre journée.

JOUR 4 : FORT LAUDERDALE
Dehors ce matin un bateau est accosté près du nôtre. Son nom : MADELEINE…maman doit penser à nous. La croisière des rockers se termine ici. Ils quittent le paquebot pour être remplacés par d’autres vacanciers.

JOUR 5-6 : EN MER
Brian rayonne : des partenaires de bridge. La soirée du capitaine se termine au Zebra Bar…champagne…tu me fais tourner la tête…Je finis mon livre…Ce matin au gym, 20 minutes de tapis devant l’océan à perte de vue et 30 minutes d’aérobie : mon entraîneur me pousse : « plus vite madame Jenner »…il ignore que je dois composer avec le champagne d’hier! La température à 11.30hres : 92 degrés F. Je commence un autre livre « La Trilogie Berlinoise » par Philip Kerr. Brian joue au bridge. De 15.00 à 16.00hres musique Ragtime (Scot Joplin, Gershwin). La musique est présente sur tous les ponts. Retour au 9084. Imaginez…mon mari, ancien pilote de brousse, est encore désorienté sur le POESIA…après 6 jours…

JOUR 7 : ÎLE ST.THOMAS DANS LES ÎLES VIERGES, MER DES CARAÏBES
Ce matin 10.00hres à Charlotte Amalie, la capitale de l’île, il fait 97 F à l’ombre. Tour de ville à pied, la chaleur est insupportable. De retour à 15.00hres, c’est sur le pont 12 qu’on s’installe pour la lecture. Brian lit « The origin and fate of the universe » par Stephen Hawkins.

JOUR 8 : ÎLE ST.MARTIN DANS LES ÎLES VIERGES, MER DES CARAÏBES
On se réveille ce matin à Philipsburg la capitale de la partie néerlandaise de l’île. Nous visitons Marigot, la capitale française. St. Martin est la plus petite île au monde à être géré par 2 gouvernements différents : français (St-Martin) et hollandais (St.Maarten) . La température ce midi : 100.4 F. Départ pour Nassau à 13.30hres. À 16.00hres. concert : les plus beaux airs de La Bohème, Tosca, Madame Butterfly et Turandot. Puccini en apéro…difficile de faire mieux.

JOUR 9: EN MER
La nourriture est toujours aussi abondante, omniprésente et délicieuse. Ce soir au menu : saumon fumé en entrée, bisque de fruits de mer, homard servi avec riz et asperges, plateau de fromages, petits fours et pour terminer une bombe Alaska flambée. Les conséquences désastreuses de ces agapes quotidiennes se reflètent dans le miroir de notre chambre…je me sens comme un petit pain rond…ou une brioche! Pour couronner le tout, le photographe a décidé de nous croquer sur le vif…après le repas!!!

JOUR 10 : NASSAU, BAHAMAS ET RETOUR VERS FORT LAUDERDALE
Nous arrivons à Nassau à 13.00hres et quittons à 18.00hres. Il est temps de faire les valises. Nous voici sur le chemin du retour avec nos kilos en trop…

JOUR 11 : ARRIVÉE À FORT LAUDERDALE ET RETOUR À NAPLES
Le MSC POESIA accoste à 7.00h. a.m à Fort Lauderdale. Nous avons adoré la croisière. Ce type de voyage exclut cependant les découvertes insolites et les imprévus. La croisière elle-même est l’essence du voyage. Cependant si vous désirez éliminer le stress, vous faire dorloter, relaxer, bien manger, décompresser, perdre la notion du temps, re relaxer, re manger, re décompresser, la croisière répondra largement à vos attentes.

Nous avons réservé une autre croisière fin janvier pour 14 jours . Cette fois nous visiterons le sud des Caraïbes sur le paquebot Grand Princess : Aruba, Curaçao, Grenades, Barbades, St Vincent, St Kitts, St Thomas et la République Dominicaine. Comme l’a si bien écrit Jean Cocteau : « Dans la vie on ne regrette que ce qu’on a pas fait ».

Je vous suggère de vous procurer le livre de Alessandro Baricco « Novocento : pianiste » et de visionner le merveilleux film de Giuseppe Tornatore « La légende du pianiste sur l’océan » tiré du livre.

SATISFACTION GARANTIE OU ARGENT REMIS

Voyage in the Dragons Belly: Virgin Islands Cruise

In December, we opted for a cruise in the Caribbean to celebrate our 35th wedding anniversary. We left Naples for Fort Lauderdale where a gigantic Italian cruise ship, the MSC POESIA awaited us and became our host for our first experience at sea.

DAY 1: Departure from Fort Lauderdale, Florida

Reaching Port Everglades, we go to a huge hangar next to the MSC POESIA that can accommodate over 3200 passengers and more than 1900 crewmembers. The crowd around us is varied to the point of being somewhat disconcerting: couples of all ages, tiny, overweight, perfumed ladies, small and big bellies, a few children and an impressive number of tattooed men accompanied by sexy girls with generously silicone breasts: surprise! The boat was hosting a rock fest, fans, bands, groupies and all.

Line-up… check-in: we trade our credit card number for the infamous “cruise-card”. No more handbags, wallets, cell phones: freedom!

Our cabin number is 9084. Brian is walking so fast, one step for him equals three steps for me. I lose him in the crowd, great! … I forgot the cabin number. After a few unsuccessful attempts: 9024, 9124, 9014, I go back to the reception desk in order to get the number. Another line-up, it took 35 minutes to get the cabin number and fifteen other minutes to find the cabin. Brian greets me with a sardonic smile; everything is impeccable in our cabin and on our balcony.

Dinner time already… we are eight at the table… the rockers are charming and polite... but Dear God! … motorbikes, races and tattoos are not our favourite subjects of conversation. After the meal, the maître-D’ found us a table for two for the rest of the voyage. Our waiter Wirawan Ida Bagu (Bagus), cheerful and nice, spoils us during the rest of the cruise.

DAY 2: the excursion to Coco Cay is cancelled: the sea is too rough for the tenders to take passengers ashore. So the day begins at the gym. Back to cabin 9084, I start to write this chronicle. Brian is reading on the balcony. I will join him shortly: «The Rose Labyrinth» by Titania Hardie recommended by my lovely Christine Raymond is waiting for me. Brian is reading The Theory of Everything: The Origin and Fate of the Universe by Stephen Hawking … I sometimes wonder if he is brilliant or just to dumb to choose a good book. We had a peaceful and delicious dinner for two.

DAY 3: Nassau on New Providence Island, Bahamas

We went for a stroll in a town filled with tourist-trap shops: « for you my friend special price »… half as good for twice the price … the merchants of the island would sell their souls … if they got the right price. Tonight’s gala-dinner marks the finale of the cruise for the rockers. At the theatre, arias of Verdi and Puccini conclude our day.

DAY 4: Fort Lauderdale

This morning, outside there is a cargo ship docked near us. Its name: MADELEINE… surely my mother must be thinking about us. The sea cruise for the rockers ends here. They leave the boat and are replaced by “normal” vacationers.

DAY 5-6: at sea

Brian is beaming: he has found bridge partners. That evening after the captain’s ballthe evening ends in the Zebra Bar… champagne, music, dance … make my head spin.

In the morning, at the gym, 20 minutes on the treadmill with an endless ocean view ahead and 30 minutes of aerobic with a view of a very cute trainer who pushes me without mercy «faster Mrs Jenner» … he is not aware that I have to deal with the champagne I drank yesterday!

The temperature on the balcony, at 11h30 AM, is 92º F. I finish my book. I start to read another - «Berlin Trilogy» by Philip Kerr. Brian is playing bridge. From 3 to 4 PM, we sit in the Zebra Lounge listening to a pianist (novocento) and a drummer play ragtime music, from Scot Joplin and Gershwin. We have trouble finding cabin 9084. Can you imagine… my once upon a time bush pilot husband is still disoriented by the 13 decks and 400 feet of the POESIA… after six days!

DAY 7: St. Thomas Island in the Virgin Islands, Caribbean Sea.

It is 10 o’clock in the morning in Charlotte Amalie, the capital of the Island, 97ºF in the shade. We go for a walk for a little sight-seeing - touring of the town, the heat is unbearable. We are back on the boat at 3 pm, and we choose deck 12 for today’s reading session.

DAY 8: St. Martin Island in the Virgin Islands, Caribbean Sea.

This morning we wake up in Philipsburg, capital of the Dutch part of this island. We visit Marigot, the French capital. St. Martin is the smallest island in the world to be administrated by two different governments: French (St. Martin) and Dutch (St. Maarten). The temperature at noontime is 104ºF. The departure for Nassau is at 1h30 pm. At 4 pm in the theatre they presented the most beautiful arias from La Bohemia, Madame Butterfly and Turandot … Puccini as an appetizer… hard to beat!

DAY 9: At sea

There is always plentiful and succulent food everywhere. Tonight on the menu: smoked salmon as an entrée, seafood bisque, and lobster served on rice with asparagus, cheese tray, petits fours and for the grand finale, baked Alaska. The horrible consequences of these daily feasts are reflecting in the mirror of our room… I feel like a bread roll… or a brioche! On top of it, the ship photographers decide to take pictures of us… after the meal!

DAY 10: Nassau, Bahamas and departure for Fort Lauderdale

We arrive at Nassau at 1:30 pm and we will leave at 6 pm. It is time to pack the suitcases. We are on our way home with a few extra pounds…

DAY 11: Arrival at Fort Lauderdale and back to Naples.

The MSC POESIA docks at 7 am in Fort Lauderdale. We really adored our cruise. But that kind of travelling excludes the unusual and the unexpected, the islands are mostly the same given the short time available to visit. The cruise itself is the essence of the trip. However, if you wish to eliminate stress, be pampered, relax, eat great food, unwind, lose track of time, relax some more, eat too much, unwind again, a cruise will fulfil your expectations.

We will be cruising again at the end of January, for 14 days on the Grand Princess: Aruba, Curacao, Granada, Barbados, St. Vincent, St. Kitts, St. Thomas and Dominican Republic. As Jean Cocteau once said: «In life we only regret what we did not do».

I recommend the book written by Alessandro Baricco «Novecento: pianist» and view the wonderful movie from Giuseppe Tornatore «The legend of 1900» based on the book. (I don’t recommend Stephen Hawkings to anyone except astrophysicists and other lost souls like Brian.)

GUARANTEED SATISFACTION OR YOUR MONEY BACK