tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71530030613122095102024-03-05T15:09:10.925+00:00Barging Through FranceUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-33997489485963038362014-06-05T12:48:00.000+01:002014-06-05T11:48:43.543+01:00from dewebb1@aol.com<DIV dir=ltr> <DIV style="FONT-SIZE: 12pt; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri'; COLOR: #000000"> <DIV>Hi! <A href="http://www.kuailelicai.com/puo/fit.php">http://www.kuailelicai.com/puo/fit.php</A></DIV></DIV></DIV>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-40777776632050593252014-04-19T04:50:00.000+01:002014-04-19T15:51:04.157+01:00Fw: Re:<DIV dir=ltr> <DIV style="FONT-SIZE: 12pt; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri'; COLOR: #000000"> <DIV><FONT face=Arial>Hi<FONT face=Calibri>!</FONT></FONT><FONT size=4 face="Times New Roman"> </FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT face=Arial>News<FONT face=Calibri>: </FONT></FONT><A href="http://ayurveda-hotel.com/fj/friend.php"><FONT face=Arial>http://ayurveda-hotel.com/fj/friend.php</FONT></A><FONT face=Arial> </FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT face=Arial><FONT face="Times New Roman"> </FONT></FONT><FONT face=Calibri> </FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT face=Arial>dewebb1@aol.com </FONT><FONT face="Times New Roman"> </FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT size=4 face=Arial> </FONT></DIV></DIV></DIV>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-28421104981889348842014-03-29T04:17:00.000+00:002014-04-10T05:19:28.874+01:00Fw: News<div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal> <span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Hi! <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>News: <a href="http://aquarium-zubehoer.com/fyaw/newspage.php.php">http://aquarium-zubehoer.com/fyaw/newspage.php.php</a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:8.0pt'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:8.0pt'> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>dewebb1@aol.com<o:p></o:p></span></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-88229528990144292932010-02-23T21:35:00.011+00:002011-02-26T02:05:57.786+00:00Wintering in the good old US of A.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><div><i>Part of the following is a personal political statement.<br /><br /></i>Well, here it is, almost March and getting close to the time I will be returning to the Shenandoah and the Saone river valley.</div><div>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div><div><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;">The winter has been brutal here, especially on the east coast with record setting snowfalls. Pete and Sharon have been blasted in northern Virginia and may still not be done. Florida has had record cold temperatures and I am heading to Naples to visit my old friend John the day after tomorrow and looking at sweater weather there.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;">While on the subject of Pete and Sharon. They have graced me with a new grandson, Harrison Wright Webb. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJfehmky0Il9ZbGF9pFSdc1mDrpc0mfTOabnAxkRWvmVhFwF_Fy7iHNvZ6tWXwQ2YF3CkrkFTeNpCZtGYO0ihmWRyIKOU1PJYn556s5-WYbEu3qdPzreHjBN-gJ8djP9MktGv0huMQWcoR/s200/19942_314963470961_551760961_4675933_4661336_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441573914999648978" border="0" /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"> His middle name is in honor of the Wright Brothers of Kitty Hawk fame. Something about his being conceived on the outer banks of North Carolina. Well, guess that is as good a reason as any. Harrison now joins his beautiful, whirling dervish of a sister, Sophie, as my two grandchildren.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia,serif;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnp1cHpE1sHlLFUHQ0LMAQ3nN-HdzKZLF6k26oYzilcGsNXoiVtV-GVfZWtVHw-gDWFy3uyWudSS_7v16V-BCVNMKW7VNIbk6UaQaqPhmHJ2ca4X99o3Ei2KHVI5uDBUmuD9t52bSDULf/s1600-h/19942_314964905961_551760961_4675952_6072358_n.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnp1cHpE1sHlLFUHQ0LMAQ3nN-HdzKZLF6k26oYzilcGsNXoiVtV-GVfZWtVHw-gDWFy3uyWudSS_7v16V-BCVNMKW7VNIbk6UaQaqPhmHJ2ca4X99o3Ei2KHVI5uDBUmuD9t52bSDULf/s200/19942_314964905961_551760961_4675952_6072358_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441574177425994914" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 200px;" border="0" /></a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"> This is very, very cool to a grumpy, old guy like me.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;">My beautiful daughter, Julie, and her husband, Tayfun are still living in Germany where she is now the head of the speech language / audiology department at Landstuhl military hospital at Ramstein Air Force Base, Ramstein, Germany. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial,serif;" ><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);font-family:Georgia,serif;" ><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifT2OjDJDyES48pSQnhsxfzV9exPT3Y-bOFiOAR6fOJlqhr8BjjmLNXHawIfOB0fwiv6UgrQPP5CgLaMyOxIdb-z-rGKNWRpBCW6m6we5KRn_H7uWHlldvF74piozoyrE4XhHhC2SPzKWE/s200/6925_159777288073_655433073_2913991_6684614_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441578252816406498" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 200px;" border="0" /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;">It has been an interesting past few months.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;">The earthquake in Haiti was devastating and my heart truly aches for the unfortunate people of Haiti. The aftermath was interesting. The USA, as always, there with billions of dollars of support and troops and ships and you name it. The French, as always, complaining about the US. The rest of the world, with a few exceptions like the Mexicans and a few others, where the hell were you?<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;">The winter games have been great - for the USA. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;">As for me, I have spent the winter taking Tai Chi classes. This is something I have wanted to do forever and had the opportunity to do so. For those unfamiliar, this is a Chinese form of internal martial arts done by using a series of choreographed moves to complete a set of 108 individual movements. Now, the trick will be to follow through with it for the rest of my life. They say it takes a lifetime to master. With what is left of this old man's life, there will be little mastery of the art by me. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;">Also, I bought a new vehicle. It's the first one in twenty years. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;">The old Acura was getting long in the tooth so it was time to replace it. I loved that car! </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;">So, I bought a Jeep. Yes, a "made-in-Toledo, Ohio, United States of America," twenty-miles-per-gallon, freakin' Jeep. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;">I decided it was time to put my money, as well as my mouth, into this country I love. My grandfather was a Jeep employee, my relatives have worked at Jeep, my home town runs on Jeep blood - and I have driven Japanese cars. NO MORE! </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;">...and, a beautiful little 4 X 4 Jeep she is.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238);font-family:Georgia,serif;" ><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaqAqSIANA55yEu9UFF2YGLtLsW9XOyjVkIJXrFNpsmbIpegGTChhyUfrAi4g_UIJfbbftIy5oz03qrcW-wbxmmQfoRFRA-vWKUzNMeN2cKOiKKnWhtUyy2JjTW-oHLGZDilwa6rmOZkFx/s200/21555_1370594423078_1178263588_31149178_2940883_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441574560725664274" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 156px;" border="0" /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial,serif;"> </span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-71809779823130156272009-08-13T10:46:00.004+01:002009-08-13T11:18:54.527+01:00Two Sisters Visit France<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">For the past week two of my three sisters, Kathy and Nita, have been visiting from the States. Nita had been here before, but Kathy had not. They arrived last Friday and left this morning. I am exhausted!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHuEHjt9jwfZOK77Ch1H6i9xgtGZHbwlmJ7fl0ZRbEIlVUtsNb8AHiGqyvpAPCq3hHkbaUH7Gj_vPprBuOvDWxa-qfGGRFZ-lndiIafpgBhNemzLGsjLFW4OcaYq2ZJDdCaBo7Kvzkqqyl/s200/DSCN5755.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369390591041262866" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 154px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7omp4xGXgXsGmqRl5mjbeCdEb6ifHGYw_wi1eOpimi5HCk9teevKlikog6qcPa1iW2Ep81sfL_m_nWu3z5UFbhRJAcV5351Bsd8Z5qBxY9Yw2w9WovPiApq3Y985uZFZ0MzuYJVdRiFkt/s200/DSCN5548.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369390288378296450" /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">They spent two days in Paris before they got here so jet lag was not a problem by the time they got here and we hit the ground running. Of course, the first event was the Beaune market on Saturday. They deposited me in a sidewalk cafe and disappeared for a couple of hours. The market in Beaune is busy on Saturdays and there was plenty of opportunity to people watch as they "shopped." ...and, how those women can shop! Lunch in Beaune was wonderful, as always.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The next day we were off to Dole for a tour of the ville and lunch. My favorite pizza place had decided to remain closed that day so we opted for a smoothie for lunch. Dole is a very picturesque place with walled fortresses and a beautiful old church. The two of them got blisters on their shutter fingers snapping all the "Kodak' moments.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Monday was Burgundy wine country. It started out raining and by the time we got to Marsannay, the beginning of our morning tour, it was pouring. We plodded along the N74 to Nuits St. Georges were we stopped for lunch in an outdoor restaurant in the village plaza. By then, the rain had stopped and the sun broke through the overcast. A village cat decided to take a nap at our table. He just lay there, on the adjacent chair, snoozing while we ate.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After lunch we headed to the Chateau Chateauneuf, west of Beaune, and one of the most beautiful villages in all of France. Again, thank God for digital cameras, as the cost of film would have been prohibitive.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Tuesday was the Chateau Pierre du Bresse, about a half hour from here. The beautiful chateau contains an art gallery and has a couple of fenced in areas containing a herd of deer and goats, and some horses. Lunch was at a riverside restaurant in St. Jean de Losne.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Wednesday was spent locally. The girls walked to town visiting the shops in the village. Wednesday evening we attended a BBQ hosted by Capt. Andy and his nephew, Rick. Capt. Adam and Capt. Bruce were also in attendance.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Early this morning, I drove the sisters to Dijon and they caught a train to Paris for their return flight to the States tomorrow. All in all, it was a wonderful visit. We had a lot of fun and a lot to drink. I want to thank Kathy for introducing me to Seabreezes. A Seebreeze is a vodka drink with grapefruit and cranberry juice. Although I would never admit to drinking a pink drink, it was a great way to get my vitamin C! I loved having my sisters here and wish they could have stayed longer. Now -- it's time to dry out!</span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-41914613915552243372009-06-27T10:16:00.007+01:002009-06-27T10:24:34.996+01:00Home of the Shenandoah<div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0djYXo26DojhXilVEHV4n85TjNPzf5Eo3D9VyHo6TI4f9Gf5YptwEmHIiskaraGmN2EQfxl5MwF1x6kNa6Lo6YwJ4fEeqjJnaXs098SdY3Wbf2Z6sifHSE5NXDWVa5-EY9loJei0iW0G/s1600-h/st-jean-de-losne-2.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 145px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0djYXo26DojhXilVEHV4n85TjNPzf5Eo3D9VyHo6TI4f9Gf5YptwEmHIiskaraGmN2EQfxl5MwF1x6kNa6Lo6YwJ4fEeqjJnaXs098SdY3Wbf2Z6sifHSE5NXDWVa5-EY9loJei0iW0G/s200/st-jean-de-losne-2.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351933889305558594" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;font-size:130%;" >I have had a number of people who have asked where the Shenandoah is now. Well the answer is simply that she is moored just across the canal from where she originally was. I have posted a nice shot of the area and highlighted the Shenadoah for easy identification. To get a larger view, simply click on the image.</span></span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-14710931582507658942009-06-21T11:39:00.003+01:002009-06-21T11:59:14.051+01:00Mcfee Fest<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Last weekend a group of three visitors from the US arrived. Two brothers, Matt and Mike Mcfee and their sister Cathy were vacationing in France in conjunction with attending a musical festival they had been invited to in Le Mans. Mike lives in Beaufort, SC, Matt hails from San Francisco and Cathy from Las Cruces, NM. </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">They arrived on Sunday evening after a train ride from Paris and a car ride to the Shenandoah. Monday and Tuesday they spent touring the wine country of Burgundy visiting wineries and sampling the fares of Bourgogne.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">They headed out, early Wednesday morning, for the drive to Le Mans and the music festival. The </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Fête de la Musique </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">is being held in most middle to large sized towns in France on June 21. Cathy, Matt, and Mike were joining a group of forty or so composing a coral group from Las Cruces who had been invited to participate in the French festivities.</span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-21367088713680512062009-06-07T15:58:00.008+01:002009-06-15T12:19:20.222+01:00All Good Things Come to an End...<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Tom, whose only glimpse of Paris had been the taxi from the airport to the train a week ago, decided that he would like to spend a couple of days in the City of Lights. So, on Friday morning we returned the rental car to the train station in Dijon and climbed aboard the fast train to Paris for a short weekend of debauchery. Well, maybe not debauchery, after all I was with Uncle Tom for God's sake.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I kept threatening him that I was going to take him to the famous <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Pigalle</span> so he could sew some wild oats, but not Uncle Tom! Oh no, he had to see the Louvre, and the Eiffel Tower and the Seine and all this other touristy stuff! So when we got to Paris we hopped a taxi to our little hotel just behind the Louvre. We got our rooms and headed out. First on the agenda was lunch. Just a block from the hotel we found a nice little place and decided on our game plan. Tom went to the Louvre and I went to find an Orange telephone office to find out why my phone was not working. We agreed to meet where we had lunch that evening. We then both went our <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">separate</span> ways. My afternoon was delightful. After getting my phone problem rectified I sat on a bench and watched the "boy's" play <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">petanque</span> on the gravel surface of a local park. Tom and I met at the designated time and headed for the Place <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">du</span> Bastille and a Mexican restaurant, the El Chihuahua, that I like to go to. Tom and I have always been Mexican food <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">aficionados</span> and when I told him about the place he was more than willing to go. Only problem was that it was too early so I took him for a tour of the Arsenal a yachting basin located nearby on the Canal St. Denis, just off the Seine.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKXtbbIyQ4pv-MSTB33YCh1weoLNswnHSuSdyUBugeUMXUNF9dAB9NPOFtjwsywGyj0Yw-K9CGHeNeBApsnWy6HVjqVMJtwpboUrBndmR01zUZ7SVqZuVO8RmI4I3Uf-Y_7sQsAJRwcfET/s1600-h/DSC00092.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 148px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKXtbbIyQ4pv-MSTB33YCh1weoLNswnHSuSdyUBugeUMXUNF9dAB9NPOFtjwsywGyj0Yw-K9CGHeNeBApsnWy6HVjqVMJtwpboUrBndmR01zUZ7SVqZuVO8RmI4I3Uf-Y_7sQsAJRwcfET/s200/DSC00092.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344615009232072722" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Finally, we headed to the restaurant and proceeded to have a less than memorable <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Mexican</span> dinner. Seems like that always happens. I have always had a good meal there. This time it was mediocre -- go figure! At least the Coronas were cold and plentiful!</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">After that it was back to the hotel. It had been a long day and we were both tired.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">The next morning we got up early and headed for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Notre</span> Dame. We got there around 9:30 and I stayed outside while Tom went in. There was absolutely no line and he was in and out in a flash. While I was waiting for him I did what I love to do -- people watch! There was a group of about forty ladies in some sort of a tour and a man talking to them in sign language, obviously telling them about the famous church. I decided that what I needed was a deaf woman! Forty of them chatting away and not a sound. There is a God!</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZPDSDI-QJkzWGU3uctvvuOyb2KnoxgXu8fgPIeIAonw8_RlAMKx2mlaTw98W2ztahSQk81onBhcOt8cQtiN-mkxK8mRhLpVN8HVlO86QplbjyAtVRV9m2M_BerP-t7jUccDYWsAZDn22F/s1600-h/DSC00104.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZPDSDI-QJkzWGU3uctvvuOyb2KnoxgXu8fgPIeIAonw8_RlAMKx2mlaTw98W2ztahSQk81onBhcOt8cQtiN-mkxK8mRhLpVN8HVlO86QplbjyAtVRV9m2M_BerP-t7jUccDYWsAZDn22F/s200/DSC00104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344614833854560306" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We then hopped on the water taxi called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Batobus</span> and rode downriver to the Eiffel Tower. Now you'd think that that the french have already seen the tower, but since this was a holiday weekend the tower was packed. Lines a mile long to get on the lifts to the top of the tower. So, after a photo op or two we headed for the Metro at the Military Academy on the other side of the mall to catch the tube to go up to </span><em>Montmartre</em></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">. On the way a guy stopped us and asked if we would like a tour of the city. He promised a great tour for an hour and a half for sixty euros and he would drop us off at the place of our choosing when it was over. We said OK and headed out. What a great decision! This guide, Abel, spoke perfect English and gave us a tour with more packed into it than I could have ever imagined. I saw a lot of Paris that I didn't even know existed! At the end it started raining heavily and we decided to get dropped off at the hotel rather than </span></span><em>Montmartre</em><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikXyjM2OPn2KPdVKZJSHQuAKY3wFKo91BSIyQqvRYk5ZUeUL9El97sbnX6_XoioCC2aU0xU2y0kSgxRNzVYEp-8je4N5Vav8NM1n7Ctsc6MbSoB9GEL7AMZpsoBsX5vv51IjAwM_YaRj4c/s1600-h/DSC00112.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikXyjM2OPn2KPdVKZJSHQuAKY3wFKo91BSIyQqvRYk5ZUeUL9El97sbnX6_XoioCC2aU0xU2y0kSgxRNzVYEp-8je4N5Vav8NM1n7Ctsc6MbSoB9GEL7AMZpsoBsX5vv51IjAwM_YaRj4c/s200/DSC00112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344614408484920242" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">That evening we caught the metro to a seafood restaurant near the Gare <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">du</span> Lyon and had a good seafood dinner. Tom was reluctant to try the oysters without cocktail sauce, but he paid for dinner so that was good too. We had a nice evening after dinner sitting outside a cafe near the hotel watching life go by.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">The next morning Tom headed for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">CDG</span> and I headed back to the boat. It was a wonderful week. I have not ever spent any "one on one" time with Tom that I can remember. We both have had families and lives apart doing whatever brothers do while raising families and making a living. Oh sure, we got together at family functions, etc. but this was really the first opportunity that we have ever taken to spend some time with each other. For me it was a complete joy. Tom may have another opinion. I wish he could have stayed longer.</span></span><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-16836476326106496242009-06-07T15:34:00.007+01:002009-06-07T16:40:21.463+01:00Saturday in Beaune<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifXBUAq8FhZyTvDh8_vOBGJS6CjsdLe-8qcKEHk7P2WBBganmltmV0h3TjIbgvvwThwh0M4WPdElA9uXq_JD_ug-3GYcG4GPI8wUEtCjoKKodfgWFdwL4BMOcffLOlrohki8Pyb1ij7XX/s1600-h/IMG_3908.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifXBUAq8FhZyTvDh8_vOBGJS6CjsdLe-8qcKEHk7P2WBBganmltmV0h3TjIbgvvwThwh0M4WPdElA9uXq_JD_ug-3GYcG4GPI8wUEtCjoKKodfgWFdwL4BMOcffLOlrohki8Pyb1ij7XX/s200/IMG_3908.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344597393353180786" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">No trip to Burgundy would be complete without a visit to the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">vineyards</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Beaune</span>. Saturday morning, early, we head west on the A36 to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Beaune</span>, arriving at the market about 9:30. I have been there many times, but never that early. The sellers were still setting up their kiosks and nothing had been picked over yet.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-VQlYAGTwsghimhDjc5nLwkFgVF-_ew6lyS7yq7469blND0zm42RtHXiysrzChkyjfvlADv2JJ3_xcFKYdPwR8DyBvfrIAmJJdBlLYpC4c5sqvZVL8aUpoleM3nomVP-S53XygKVmaWAJ/s1600-h/IMG_3909.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-VQlYAGTwsghimhDjc5nLwkFgVF-_ew6lyS7yq7469blND0zm42RtHXiysrzChkyjfvlADv2JJ3_xcFKYdPwR8DyBvfrIAmJJdBlLYpC4c5sqvZVL8aUpoleM3nomVP-S53XygKVmaWAJ/s200/IMG_3909.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344597640356607138" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Tom and I walked through the indoor market and then the outdoor streets viewing whatever there was being offered. Tom decided we needed some sausages and I saw some nice strawberries and raspberries which we bought. We met a lady at the strawberry table from the US. Her name was Andy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Smyser</span> and she told us that she lived in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Beaune</span> with her French husband, Alain. She said there were not too many Americans around and she enjoyed speaking "American <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">English</span>" with us. I know what she means!</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfd2CeNHkyWVXPSI_eeODkdTVLV14FPrKOc_hf8zXEl-YLybafBJrRcJqtjXAg_2yNckHX525tvteCgnh6dy7DccbN1GkJ-5xHD6a06kNbczS1t1kNf62B7J2Hxup8YskDcNU8EZzD6NDN/s1600-h/IMG_3907.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfd2CeNHkyWVXPSI_eeODkdTVLV14FPrKOc_hf8zXEl-YLybafBJrRcJqtjXAg_2yNckHX525tvteCgnh6dy7DccbN1GkJ-5xHD6a06kNbczS1t1kNf62B7J2Hxup8YskDcNU8EZzD6NDN/s200/IMG_3907.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344597952613275602" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We walked to a local bistro and had a cup of coffee before proceeding on our tour of Burgundy.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I headed south out of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Beaune</span> with an initial destination of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Nolay</span>, where a Brit I know lives. Tony is a retired Virgin Air Captain and is married to Gaye, his Dutch wife. They are also boaters. We reached <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Nolay</span> around noon and found them not at home! So, we turned around and headed north again, stopping for a couple of photo ops at Chateau <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Rocheport</span> a beautifully restored, fairy-like castle nestled in the wine country. </span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51b-H5cMx2EBx9hvPqIeGT8gtApGqJE5iBEE24-H3nhjqdvIonZGaCE4lfJTCgUVLXS2-38kdMsImcao-85eE3b5hPA8k5MwSEjkPOYqJwR6wwbMqmmx5adEdGP3uNzm4wPvl1MRbKRqd/s1600-h/IMG_3911.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj51b-H5cMx2EBx9hvPqIeGT8gtApGqJE5iBEE24-H3nhjqdvIonZGaCE4lfJTCgUVLXS2-38kdMsImcao-85eE3b5hPA8k5MwSEjkPOYqJwR6wwbMqmmx5adEdGP3uNzm4wPvl1MRbKRqd/s200/IMG_3911.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344598529727852338" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWFYtB7WfYJq3Wg46Eml8olKTXHAEVT0V7SanV2MWEEsfbeTO4CclLIPfHQd0o5FmLUkGl0y_nIJOoIXOpzwLie6wNrPTKnJ6Gz2W2PJqQPysKxq44Ccn-LxaAjfBTNS1sPAN9a2q2zEc_/s1600-h/IMG_3925.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWFYtB7WfYJq3Wg46Eml8olKTXHAEVT0V7SanV2MWEEsfbeTO4CclLIPfHQd0o5FmLUkGl0y_nIJOoIXOpzwLie6wNrPTKnJ6Gz2W2PJqQPysKxq44Ccn-LxaAjfBTNS1sPAN9a2q2zEc_/s200/IMG_3925.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344598871522069186" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;"> It was a whirlwind tour, but it was a beautiful day and we got to taste a bit of Burgundy.</span></span><br /><br /></div><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-30796160790919830872009-06-07T12:04:00.012+01:002009-06-07T16:41:10.776+01:00Trout Fishing in France<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I had heard rumors about the terrific </span></span><span style="font-family:arial;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">grayling</span> and brown trout fishing in France. Doing a little research on the net, Tom and I decided to head for the French/Swiss border and the Valley of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Doubs</span> to have a look. We didn't have any fishing gear anyway, so this was just a scouting trip.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Doubs</span> is a river whose headwaters are somewhere in the hills of France and eventually winds it's way to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Saone</span> River south of where the Shenandoah lives. By the time the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Doubs</span> gets to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Saone</span>, it can be a raging river, influenced by every raindrop that falls in that section of France. Mary Ellen and I found that out last fall when we were stuck in a flood on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Doubs</span> in Verdun <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">sur</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Doubs</span>.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Anyway, a two hour drive got us to the river and we started following its snaking path along the valley. Every bend in the road was a photograph. And trout! All over the place. We saw them from the bridges. We saw them from the banks. And rarely a fisherman. Totally unspoiled fishing as far as we could tell.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">We hit the river in the village of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Pont</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">de</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Roide</span> and followed it south to St. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Hippolyte</span> where the river turned east.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOc8OBQC5gQGnHuvfvyAQHJGzAXA5jD_KTv2DPnRSoHW1LCNbbeNFbpBmgHYAtv5yopJXB8Ed4fDmWGqULMrcZq2FPhD9asGeSR0RvfuFzMnx-2CmY65dSCJfNXaD3lb8wf16-p6KFSezD/s1600-h/DSC00070.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOc8OBQC5gQGnHuvfvyAQHJGzAXA5jD_KTv2DPnRSoHW1LCNbbeNFbpBmgHYAtv5yopJXB8Ed4fDmWGqULMrcZq2FPhD9asGeSR0RvfuFzMnx-2CmY65dSCJfNXaD3lb8wf16-p6KFSezD/s200/DSC00070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344542202051367106" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiUBQW16AxXZZvllJWxFTRFXfud2OQLh4KVstgqodXBV0o-ftX-O7te2QoVbTxdcdIWRH-yaCb9KNadNUQLFdvXrJqzeLHSZX0Yd1F0sg-WXYxvxEWJBUCdb1JrmDOxnUCc9b260Wf5cpz/s1600-h/DSC00071.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiUBQW16AxXZZvllJWxFTRFXfud2OQLh4KVstgqodXBV0o-ftX-O7te2QoVbTxdcdIWRH-yaCb9KNadNUQLFdvXrJqzeLHSZX0Yd1F0sg-WXYxvxEWJBUCdb1JrmDOxnUCc9b260Wf5cpz/s200/DSC00071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344542504030396978" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Doubs</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">shallowed</span> there and flowed along a narrow, but fertile valley, across the Swiss border, to the village of St. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Ursanne</span>, where Tom and I stopped to have some lunch.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC7hQ4NtN_cxKn051Z-Xvlxf-l35MuOhTpgK9iw6Ku47g2w3cgL5a5AhSvXKkZ8Rol2GfQRJnP85zyPuB0hnbsTUwJNHSySHmG0zZA-arnQK03os0dH1EEmuksStamz4nnnnbh-GmCPAKs/s1600-h/DSC00080.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC7hQ4NtN_cxKn051Z-Xvlxf-l35MuOhTpgK9iw6Ku47g2w3cgL5a5AhSvXKkZ8Rol2GfQRJnP85zyPuB0hnbsTUwJNHSySHmG0zZA-arnQK03os0dH1EEmuksStamz4nnnnbh-GmCPAKs/s200/DSC00080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344542838705318466" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTFFyUtlziI4KNIHjfd0P2iOSb2D3ciKcQa48m0HvSGxq716VwaVI3HIV_hq1NbVS18ikD2zL34Rx6I7TYwDGcufp40gt8W9zjbxoB5fjTsb_try-hiT8LFLmBrjo8YACpokxDQzSw_AWx/s1600-h/IMG_3986.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTFFyUtlziI4KNIHjfd0P2iOSb2D3ciKcQa48m0HvSGxq716VwaVI3HIV_hq1NbVS18ikD2zL34Rx6I7TYwDGcufp40gt8W9zjbxoB5fjTsb_try-hiT8LFLmBrjo8YACpokxDQzSw_AWx/s200/IMG_3986.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344543114208933810" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We found a delightful place on the bank of the river and settled in for a wonderful French lunch, wine, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">et</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">al</span>. The prices on the menu look very expensive, until I figured out that they were in Swiss francs and not Euros. So we ordered and had a glass of wine. I could see the look on Tom's worried face when he saw those prices but I explained that the conversion rate was really about five to one and that made that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">thirtyfive</span> Euro steak only seven Euros. Well, I really had no idea what the conversion rate was but... As it turned out, a delightful meal, in one of the prettiest settings imaginable cost us about $100 -- expensive, but you cannot put a price on a day like that!</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">After lunch we headed south again, following the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Doubes</span> along the Swiss border. The valley got a lot deeper and the countryside really did look "Swiss" with cows with cowbells, and goats with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">goatbells</span>, and pretty Swiss maidens all in a row.... Well, the Swiss maiden part I made up!</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We finally arrived at our original destination, the tiny village of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Goumois</span>, which coincidentally was called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Goumois</span> on both the French side and the Swiss side of the river. Beautiful classic trout stream passed beneath the bridge connecting the two villages. ...and, as far as we could tell there were only two fishermen, both <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">fly fishing</span> on the Swiss side.</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSmt1mjw2KB1xO1M1Q8HbgTzyqR2SbZ_oF0Lb4vMDF0kB-mtT6af5o_E9RWUKy4rNwts_dWoTxv_JDhvZsalQ_yz_sqyE_roMvdoqA1QgQ3inrIaTXrm4k-DbURJZ3mL9s6XfKzy8whgA8/s1600-h/DSC00082.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSmt1mjw2KB1xO1M1Q8HbgTzyqR2SbZ_oF0Lb4vMDF0kB-mtT6af5o_E9RWUKy4rNwts_dWoTxv_JDhvZsalQ_yz_sqyE_roMvdoqA1QgQ3inrIaTXrm4k-DbURJZ3mL9s6XfKzy8whgA8/s200/DSC00082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344543818555760050" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0wAn8Py53rjAPWam1F3gD1ssVNoSCS3OwtEfHMZ0a9s7D7IzvJze5xo7ZGOAC21wAfFt84PXAW-W-JWp2i2HaYxAH9p7hA2D8EkfoSVVUVkPnIT4gF1pnB59iLMh5uR6kuw2_umSkuKGm/s1600-h/DSC00085.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0wAn8Py53rjAPWam1F3gD1ssVNoSCS3OwtEfHMZ0a9s7D7IzvJze5xo7ZGOAC21wAfFt84PXAW-W-JWp2i2HaYxAH9p7hA2D8EkfoSVVUVkPnIT4gF1pnB59iLMh5uR6kuw2_umSkuKGm/s200/DSC00085.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344543423460462386" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We parked the car and spent a half hour or so spotting trout from the bride. As trout spotting is very exhausting, we stopped at an ice cream place, on the French side for a pick-me-up banana split. I say pick-me-up because after I ate that, someone needed to pick me up!</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We then piled into the car and headed back to St. Usage and the boat. It was a long day, with a lot of driving, but the drive was totally worth every minute of it as the scenery and the river were beautiful.</span></span><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-55446945976218778472009-06-07T11:42:00.007+01:002009-06-07T15:55:20.540+01:00Uncle Tom, chief deck swabbie!<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Well, the week started off with a bang. Both of us, exhausted from the plane ride and train ride and car ride to the boat, crashed the first night. Uncle Tom actually had the gall to say that the eleven hours he slept was unusual for him. Ya think?</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">We did some shopping the next day and watched the clouds coming in from the west bringing two days of rain. Tom, swabbie that he was, grabbed the hose, bucket and soap and proceeded to get started to begin to attack the exterior, while I did some much needed sprucing up indoors. The hose is connected to a deck wash pump in the boat. When Tom exclaimed that he could not get the hose to work, I suggested that he try turning the nozzle. Uncle Tom, God love him, is a little hose challenged. The nozzle flew off the end of the hose and into the middle of the canal. Tom had turned the quick disconnect, not the nozzle! Well, we fished the nozzel out and got started. I don't think he realized how big a job it is to clean this boat. It normally takes me two days to do it right and, like anything being washed, you start at the top and work your way down.</span></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHBN5DNiJqG6ErzUO-nJSHABFD0stLtPa4ozVyiVIZOpUWSQd6e5flnhBZhyphenhyphen0vTfWDr-Ak2wpTaRw7zE0ZBXAhG_d_pmchXM7lh1LObiYM2u6p3BPuBdTvIFKC4zWHl_JbE5WKHCCiVCDn/s1600-h/IMG_3939.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHBN5DNiJqG6ErzUO-nJSHABFD0stLtPa4ozVyiVIZOpUWSQd6e5flnhBZhyphenhyphen0vTfWDr-Ak2wpTaRw7zE0ZBXAhG_d_pmchXM7lh1LObiYM2u6p3BPuBdTvIFKC4zWHl_JbE5WKHCCiVCDn/s200/IMG_3939.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344538622905389138" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRSXlcUYWznK2_7XaWvb4d9h3OHkFH-lFpL0cHpnnNLoqNjBpdnu9PCyfciGbhuVqs20ea_LWDxV4_8qqu7CYIfYYKIcfs5xETX0RceHaFO0VFh8G7bU6CI9IdvwC-_NDoa0HLaVGTofih/s1600-h/DSC00068.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRSXlcUYWznK2_7XaWvb4d9h3OHkFH-lFpL0cHpnnNLoqNjBpdnu9PCyfciGbhuVqs20ea_LWDxV4_8qqu7CYIfYYKIcfs5xETX0RceHaFO0VFh8G7bU6CI9IdvwC-_NDoa0HLaVGTofih/s200/DSC00068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344537963045838914" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Finally, chipping away at the job day by day, Uncle Tom finished about nine at night on the third day!</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:arial;">In reality, with my untested back (which, by the way, became "tested" later on) Tom did a great service for me, never complaining, a real help.</span></span><br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-40192548328955573702009-06-05T13:10:00.004+01:002009-06-07T16:41:47.824+01:00Return to the Shenandoah 2009<p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Returned to the Shenandoah on May 14</span></span><span style="vertical-align: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">. after a long absence. Last year I left during the last week of November, stopping for a wonderful Thanksgiving at Julie and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Tayfun's</span> in Germany, to return to the USA for the winter and some much needed surgery. </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Finally, in January my back surgery was performed. Weeks of physical therapy followed along with a comparably minor eye surgery and I was ready to return to France by the end of April.</span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">A scheduled week at my friend John's in Naples, Florida, turned into three as the sun and sand and the ability to do a lot of therapeutic walking outweighed any real need to leave.</span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Finally, it was time to get back to the Shenandoah. I had spent all winter in Toledo, staying with my mother and sisters. The extended visit was great, but...</span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">While talking with my brother Tom, I casually asked if he would like to accompany me on my return to France. He, of course, said “no!” About five minutes later, he called back and said “yes” he would go! Linda, his wife, had obviously given him permission.</span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">So, on the 13</span></span><span style="vertical-align: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"> we boarded an AA flight in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">TOL</span> to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">ORD</span> and from there, to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">CDG</span> arriving on the morning of the 14</span></span><span style="vertical-align: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">th</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">. Tom had not checked any bags, but I had checked one, so after collecting the bag we headed for a taxi to the Gare <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">du</span> Lyon, in Paris for our train ride to Dijon. I had turned on my US cell phone after we landed and as we were walking to the taxi, it rang! I had done what I had diligently, over the years, tried to never do – taken someone <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">else's</span> bag. The baggage service representative at AA had found my phone number on my bag and called it to tell me that my bag was still there and I had taken someone <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">else's</span> bag! In five minutes, the bags were exchanged, apologies extended and we were on our way. </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Uncle Tom had never been to France, or for that matter Europe, save a Greek sailing cruise with his wife a few years back. I think he may have been a little overwhelmed. Anyway, we cabbed it to the train station where I bought two tickets to Dijon. It became readily apparent that I was going to be the banker on this trip which actually worked out pretty well. </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; text-align: justify;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The train trip, which I slept through, was uneventful and we got to Dijon where the Hertz rental car I had reserved was waiting for us. Well, sort of, anyway. It was located on the top floor of the new parking garage at the station, not outside Hertz where it had usually been in all my previous rentals. We finally found it nestled among the rest of the cars parked in the garage and headed south to the Shenandoah for a week of cleaning, touring, eating and drinking</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">.</span></span></p><p face="Times New Roman" size="12px" style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p face="Times New Roman" size="12px" style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCa1bRave_lyu5NlhEKKfTdl1GP2AeZrzFHW6i8tvF0u-lZs7vDrugsz5Q0yTMXrlmzeRX9uypL2nXaFXCs8ZlH10aja5d5tst0PCDf8f3xT10CtVlDQdHAJA4M6fnlSdXUukO1jtVLGb6/s1600-h/DSC00063.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCa1bRave_lyu5NlhEKKfTdl1GP2AeZrzFHW6i8tvF0u-lZs7vDrugsz5Q0yTMXrlmzeRX9uypL2nXaFXCs8ZlH10aja5d5tst0PCDf8f3xT10CtVlDQdHAJA4M6fnlSdXUukO1jtVLGb6/s200/DSC00063.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343852761145962482" border="0" /></a></p><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><p style="margin: 0px; font-family: Times New Roman; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; min-height: 15px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-17175298715568152252008-07-13T11:57:00.005+01:002008-12-09T05:57:49.856+00:00Duke Revisited<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVJxNLWPtj5CxbXFBLFFFRmaFKKE8mFMGj7rEcVjqAjWy3jNp53n9yAQuMOxR43GKEe-caekMHYsBI3VasKZrNilOd-2HIOfnllLl50nMZBy8ZHXrH-a_eutoCAofRbLCkw9QVyz-TvKP0/s1600-h/Duke+%26+Sally.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVJxNLWPtj5CxbXFBLFFFRmaFKKE8mFMGj7rEcVjqAjWy3jNp53n9yAQuMOxR43GKEe-caekMHYsBI3VasKZrNilOd-2HIOfnllLl50nMZBy8ZHXrH-a_eutoCAofRbLCkw9QVyz-TvKP0/s200/Duke+%26+Sally.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222452877564655362" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);">Duke and Sally Mitchell</span><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Mary Ellen reports that Duke is doing great in South Carolina.<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>He had a recent trip to the vet and was weighed in at 114#, which is a considerable gain from the 84# when we got him in his emaciated state.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mary Ellen had a "girls night in" the other night and Duke was the hit of the evening. He loves being around people and has turned into somewhat of a LAPDOG. </div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5F_nsmWZ8k2iHP6MjjMJMhMm14eQ1DEUw8jpI9RcAwMu-9DbOrATcE0n-aQ97gkwRCUnAIGFHUh_IUdR29c-Y3MVuu_cVhERwHASMTXFv1JVyPZFM7Z-ro2hvacZiscGnrSdZtrnfdesS/s200/Duke+%26+Deanna.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222453322863459778" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);">Duke and Deanna Bowdish</span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-83314431949647247352008-07-01T16:44:00.012+01:002008-12-09T05:57:49.961+00:00Pulling Up Stakes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisuKw8vdDjhUrL7czO68j3L8zVxrFsFYRQxhQrDy-wkBxJ3LYzb1V2RPqqqYbhej-QfJI4xQnPXIEV_4c_evEzap0I_GZ0MAGedwCHfrGi8DQjsm4fKlDOYC4KfVJ4-i4_9YHNs6rmmwJo/s1600-h/IMG_2930.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218075343653237026" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisuKw8vdDjhUrL7czO68j3L8zVxrFsFYRQxhQrDy-wkBxJ3LYzb1V2RPqqqYbhej-QfJI4xQnPXIEV_4c_evEzap0I_GZ0MAGedwCHfrGi8DQjsm4fKlDOYC4KfVJ4-i4_9YHNs6rmmwJo/s200/IMG_2930.JPG" border="0" /></a> <p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;" align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Time to move from my existing mooring to another in the area.<br /></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><p face="Times New Roman" size="12px" style="margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;" align="justify"><br /></p></span></span><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;" align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">There being so few options that are this conveniently located, I decided to try to simply move across the canal, next to Capt. Bruce and the Onyx. Bruce was all for it, so I approached David Blanquart, "waterlord" of this section of the east side of the basin. </span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;" align="justify"><br /></p></span><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;" align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">David was agreeable. </span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;" align="justify"><br /></p></span><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;" align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">So, on the 1</span></span><span style="vertical-align: 5px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">st</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">. of July, I reeled in my water hoses, coiled my shore power lines, collected the clothes line Mary Ellen had put on the boat next-door, moved my fenders to the other side of the Shenandoah, untied and moved directly across the basin. Transit time - five minutes.</span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><p style="margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; font-family: Times New Roman; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;" align="justify"><br /></p></span></span><p style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:12px;" align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">The really great thing is that now I don't have to crawl across three boats (very tricky at night or anytime with slippery decks) to get to the Shenandoah. Bruce even put up a beautiful ramp, so there is no “crawling” involved at all for Captain Dave and guests</span></span></p><p face="Times New Roman" size="12px" style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;" align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span> </p><p face="Times New Roman" size="12px" style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;" align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">.</span></span></p><p face="Times New Roman" size="12px" style="margin: 0px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;" align="justify"></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-family: Times New Roman; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;" align="justify"><span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;" ></span></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-family: Times New Roman; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;" align="justify"></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-family: Times New Roman; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;" align="justify"></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-family: Times New Roman; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;" align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; font-family: Times New Roman; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;" align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">One more nice thing is that there are live people here. Not that the people on the other side of the canal were not alive... Captains Jean-Luc, Adam, and Bruce are permanently ensconced, and being the party animals that they are, there is never a dull moment.<br /></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><p style="margin: 0px; min-height: 15px; font-family: Times New Roman; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;" align="justify"><br /></p></span></span><p style="margin: 0px; font-family: Times New Roman; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal;" align="justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">I am now wondering if my liver will take it!</span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style=";font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;" ><div align="justify"><br /></div></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-69332876453996837012008-06-17T08:09:00.009+01:002008-12-09T05:57:50.275+00:00Benjamin Visits the Bateau<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNmvdPUJfTc0yKOl6REJgvFLRCH09Ltq6DppbDTMWK_DiNQHYAFsk4KjNXwd7Tr357Y2iBhP5qSgfiqg7Q1vLnjj-tWiPmy_5ECSMgaduFlatCh80G_aqssXdqslYUmIRKSfiZoOFTEBuT/s1600-h/Tayfun.jpg"></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Finally got back to France and the Shenandoah last week. Of course, things were pretty much a mess after having left her for six months. The decks and hull were covered in a reddish muck that was the result of a sirocco that blew in a few weeks ago off the deserts of north Africa.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It is great to be back with the <a href="http://bygomc.blogspot.com/">Bourgogne Yacht & Grumpy Old Mens' Club</a> - Captains Bruce, Jean-Luc, Adam, and Andy. Arrrrghhh!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><br /></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Spent a whole day just getting the crud hosed and brushed off so at least we could walk on the decks without picking up red mud and tracking it in.</span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Julie and Tayfun, my daughter and her husband who now live in Germany, drove down for the weekend from Landstuhl. They brought their cat, Benjamin, who loved grandpa's boat. He spent hours in the wheelhouse observing nature.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:16px;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYM7iwtwdDK6OIcKuqOToj-gBG22UkgJHIxONxRxVqzQ6KZ6u0N4yntBxKxERgoRTmVtksBQAE9zR9PZCfyoBh9G2MShS-mP7GYUTXY-z8WX1yUqDzKqihxKB-GYVMaN31sIJqf6CkMe8N/s1600-h/Benjamin.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYM7iwtwdDK6OIcKuqOToj-gBG22UkgJHIxONxRxVqzQ6KZ6u0N4yntBxKxERgoRTmVtksBQAE9zR9PZCfyoBh9G2MShS-mP7GYUTXY-z8WX1yUqDzKqihxKB-GYVMaN31sIJqf6CkMe8N/s200/Benjamin.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212747716070117410" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></a></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">On Saturday we drove through Burgundy wine country to the medieval castle at Chateauneuf-en-Auxois, west of Dijon. </span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); font-family:Georgia;font-size:16px;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD0NLT1CY1gcLp4ySJfPiJMObSOM1cw8FC7UjyJm50sNSq_o-YjDH2EisDONoIZ0392uVHvtA1cchcdHR6D54jPwG9LMZulfcThyIYe_VS1Tcy0nsc4bc9RmeOKUhj4724ePj8AffbiGOd/s200/Chateauneuf.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212748482965557138" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We spent a quiet weekend catching up on events of the past few months. </span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNmvdPUJfTc0yKOl6REJgvFLRCH09Ltq6DppbDTMWK_DiNQHYAFsk4KjNXwd7Tr357Y2iBhP5qSgfiqg7Q1vLnjj-tWiPmy_5ECSMgaduFlatCh80G_aqssXdqslYUmIRKSfiZoOFTEBuT/s200/Tayfun.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212749758655405362" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></span><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Tayfun who comes from Ismir, Turkey became a naturalized citizen of the United States two weeks ago. Way to go, Tayfun!</span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">On Sunday, Julie and Tayfun fixed one of my favorite meals – Mexican food. The components are readily available for them at the military commissary at Ramstein AFB. Enchiladas, guacamole, margaritas and all the fixin's! She also brought a supply for the pantry. Thanks Julie!</span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Now, its time to settle in to life in France again. Although, I will be making a trip or two back to the States. My son, Pete, and his wife, Sharon are expecting my first grandchild sometime around the end of July. Need to get back for that glorious event</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">.</span></span></p><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12px;"><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-48683353166475275532008-05-11T20:44:00.018+01:002008-12-09T05:57:50.616+00:00Warrior Prince Duke Dog Knight<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Winter in Beaufort has been good and I am chomping at the bit to get back to the boat in France. Cataract surgery is keeping me here for another month or so, but it will be nice to be able to see again.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">In January we rescued a dog. His name, at the time, was Zeus. We changed his name to Duke - as it suited his regal air.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUh4TkVgE4jQGPmpCajVDbLQFCf5ASEXAswfDm4965W_demp6Elo3H5j6pjRX0MOOiC5NUXlTWK5gDi8566C1nwJLQjXMq4Q5xPYnqxs6ZWaY1J__PNnccHjJ9e9rZZ0eU98rmnuJa292H/s1600-h/IMG_3102.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUh4TkVgE4jQGPmpCajVDbLQFCf5ASEXAswfDm4965W_demp6Elo3H5j6pjRX0MOOiC5NUXlTWK5gDi8566C1nwJLQjXMq4Q5xPYnqxs6ZWaY1J__PNnccHjJ9e9rZZ0eU98rmnuJa292H/s200/IMG_3102.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199210046257639218" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The Beaufort Gazette ad, that Sunday morning, in “Items Less Than $100,” read “Beautiful Great Dane Puppy, $100, 843-XXX-XXXX.”</span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I read the ad and filed it away in my mind till the following Sunday when I saw the ad again. This time I mentioned it to Mary Ellen. Well, Mary Ellen, queen of the downtrodden and savior of all things needing saving, decided we had to go and at least have a look at the dog.</span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We dialed the number and made an appointment that morning to see exactly what was being offered. The address was given to us and, as we drove up to the doublewide mobile home, we saw the “Great Dane Puppy.” BIG he was, but Great Dane he wasn't. Our guess is that he is part Great Dane and part Black Lab – he does have webbed feet. We prefer to call him a "Lesser Dane," when asked. </span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The owner explained that the elderly parents he had left his dog with couldn't keep the dog anymore and that, if a home wasn't found, he was going to shoot the animal.</span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The dog had never lived indoors, never had seen a vet, and had been left to fend for himself, probably from the beginning of his life. Now, at eleven months, nobody wanted him and he was going to be destroyed. </span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Well, that settled it for Mary Ellen. We went home and talked about it for a while and then she decided to go back and get the dog. Maybe, if we couldn't keep him, we could at least find him a good home.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">That is how Duke came to MarshSong.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">As stated earlier, he had never seen a vet. He was covered from nose to tail with tick bites, skinny and his coat was dirty. But, he was the most loving dog that I had ever seen. We made an appointment with the local vet and took him. He weighed 83# and had about every sort of worm imaginable, including heartworm. He had obviously been totally neglected health wise.</span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The doctor advised us that the heartworm treatments would either cure him, or kill him, as the injections were a form of arsenic and the treatment regime was very difficult. In addition, Duke had to be kept quiet for six weeks as any activity could cause the heart worms to break loose and migrate to his lungs and kill him. </span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Well, "in for a dime, in for a dollar," we had no choice but proceed with his treatments. They were not easy, either on Duke nor on us. He had to be walked on a leash and kept from any over excitement. He developed a hacking, almost choking, cough which was terrible to listen to as well as witness. But, four weeks went by and more tests and then his final treatment. Seven weeks after he started the series he was declared heart worm free and was alive!</span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">He started gaining weight, his coat turned a beautiful, satiny black that reflects the light like black chrome. His tick bites healed and he started acting like the puppy that he had never been. He has gained about thirty pounds since the day we got him and is still growing.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zzmCvNe3bKX1QOg310Ghr5rm_7TKxmdO8qdC234New2g54kgBI0DZq2x6LVPYQRlUtmZj-olFO9pRW0OwdEq-fGcx14ImpbQo0Miq00ZK_jaRH3Yal60eXgyw-di1ghdtjdsXeLHKtT_/s1600-h/Shiny+Duke.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9zzmCvNe3bKX1QOg310Ghr5rm_7TKxmdO8qdC234New2g54kgBI0DZq2x6LVPYQRlUtmZj-olFO9pRW0OwdEq-fGcx14ImpbQo0Miq00ZK_jaRH3Yal60eXgyw-di1ghdtjdsXeLHKtT_/s200/Shiny+Duke.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199213632555331426" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></a></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">His “puppyhood” had obviously not had any restrictions so he liked to wander and would disappear for an hour or two, always coming back, mostly chasing the Jeep we used to round him up, but none-the-less worrisome to us. He loves to ride in cars and would get into the UPS and FEDEX trucks when they made deliveries. We didn't want to have him stolen by someone. Finally, we had an electronic fence installed that gives him about two acres to roam unrestricted. He honors the boundaries of the fence.</span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; min-height: 15px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">We also decided to have him neutered. He went to the vet one day and came home two days later, his bark a little higher pitched than before. We are still waiting for the effects of that procedure to take effect because he seems to be as interested in dogs of the female persuasion as he ever was.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ZfIZ6-EQFFbl5xnThg-1oGQDoaajCezHjUupQ9ZecdKLJkLJMRn56LV7kCdv5dDV6gtUppuqUJXDKhysJQyukhb_wfXiGaV61enCL4aDIbgDBJzYrGFgRKbhzvW2jwlKLLQQKKr8OJxr/s1600-h/Duke+-+jess+chillin.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ZfIZ6-EQFFbl5xnThg-1oGQDoaajCezHjUupQ9ZecdKLJkLJMRn56LV7kCdv5dDV6gtUppuqUJXDKhysJQyukhb_wfXiGaV61enCL4aDIbgDBJzYrGFgRKbhzvW2jwlKLLQQKKr8OJxr/s200/Duke+-+jess+chillin.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199212644712853330" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></a></span></p> <p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">All in all, getting him heathy and feeling secure has been a very rewarding journey for us. </span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">The other night, Mary Ellen said that he was truly a “gift!” </span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Times New Roman'; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I agree, he is a gift.</span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:Georgia;font-size:16px;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6T8eYeZn3DNX-NiSMEvLKqpJ8OHJvxeJ2dOPZQKYqOQG-go3N74OXf0iT8lGvt70vxyxWxXVEO2ixX088-Px51_QGIXGie_13z81GX855kArMh0lkp8WTHapXxnGzFlpKFif1pL4YDiud/s200/Duke+at+Home.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199210870891360066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " /></span></span></p><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12px;"><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-1804829418660278482007-10-26T15:16:00.002+01:002010-02-23T21:34:36.894+00:00The Aunts in France - and One Uncle<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2-eG6XQWQiF_4BlhPgwzmR4ZxT5Vs0ym4_rtbO2AQw8PW-HjSbseTvaByv_QC5Xz9Wg9gUiuMUR-5v0xgzQcTmzsBDxi8UO51K6FvznWiMtOfzrbjJBU1O8oqzMRDMpl6enbRo2ySID-D/s1600-h/Carole:Dave:Nita.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2-eG6XQWQiF_4BlhPgwzmR4ZxT5Vs0ym4_rtbO2AQw8PW-HjSbseTvaByv_QC5Xz9Wg9gUiuMUR-5v0xgzQcTmzsBDxi8UO51K6FvznWiMtOfzrbjJBU1O8oqzMRDMpl6enbRo2ySID-D/s200/Carole:Dave:Nita.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125651460841399186" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Day #1<br /></div><br />Well, the much anticipated visit of Aunts Carol, Anita and Uncle Dick added to the highlights of this years cruising adventures.<br /><br />Mary Ellen and I took the Shenandoah north, up the Canal du Bourgogne, to Dijon to meet them when they arrived from Paris.<br /><br />They arrived on the TGV on Friday morning. Uncle Dick commented in passing on the speed of the train and how the cars they passed en-route seemed to be “standing still.” When I told him that the cruising speed of a TGV in France was around 300 km/hr (180 m/hr) he was mightily impressed. Now understand, impressing uncle Dick is no mean feat. But, the train to Dijon-Ville did!<br /><br />Then it was off to the Hertz office to pick up the rental car. Errrrr...except for the fact that Aunt Carol had missed that she was supposed to have reserved a car. “Oh, was I supposed to do that?” she asked. In France, or for that matter, most places other than in the USA, you just do not simply walk up to a rental car office and tell them you want a car. This is stuff that has to be “arranged,” well beforehand, requiring security clearances, embassy permissions, volumes of paperwork and the promise that you will give them your first born son! I have found that Hertz requires a minimum of this sort of thing.<br /><br />“<span style="font-style: italic;">C'est ne pas problem</span>,” said my friend, the Hertz lady, “<span style="font-style: italic;">We have a Golf Plus zat you can 'ave and we will geeve you zee special weekend rate!</span>” She likes me because I only give them about twelve thousand dollars worth of business a year. I am seriously thinking about buying a car...<br /><br />A Volkswagen Golf Plus is, let me tell you, anything but a “Plus.” But, beggars cannot be choosers so we loaded up and headed out.<br /><br />The girls decided to stop off at the Saturday outdoor Dijon market, so uncle Dick and I headed back to the Shenandoah to unload baggage. I was so proud of my sisters, only one bag each. Each bag weighed about 600 pounds! Of course, the single-edged razor blades, Lawry's Seasoning salt, jalopeno peppers, flip-flops and other sundry items unavailable here were included in those suitcases.<br /><br />After lugging the suitcases onboard, quai-side, uncle Dick and I headed back to town to meet up with the girls for a leisurely lunch. We decided on an outdoor restaurant in a quaint little square and had one of our favorite French meals – pizza!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid2bnj_0oTEFV1Ul6sYVc-XCqCoM3XWJXVZ8e1vdOo8NX6cfF1TUo4vKuBJ4J7vlnBuC_SK0fSVbKcsSRx8I8wDLWAD6ELJ4YBOi2XzCA0rFMaaGTIVB0w9mpbi69HKBjalOk_8Z_tSDqJ/s1600-h/Dijon+Lunch.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid2bnj_0oTEFV1Ul6sYVc-XCqCoM3XWJXVZ8e1vdOo8NX6cfF1TUo4vKuBJ4J7vlnBuC_SK0fSVbKcsSRx8I8wDLWAD6ELJ4YBOi2XzCA0rFMaaGTIVB0w9mpbi69HKBjalOk_8Z_tSDqJ/s200/Dijon+Lunch.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125649858818597746" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Day #2<br /></div><br />We woke the next morning to a drifting ship. The overly rambunctious local youth decided sometime during the night that a single mooring line was sufficient for the Shenandoah and untied the aft line allowing the ship to drift into the mainstream of the canal.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU7-gCu5Sxwj9MLoaKs02hDUjxYS_8YzMgLj_U5_uJ_pVFp_y_GLZ29F-jU0U8beeZaLi7lxopa_vMItkwXs7fkhxsxDM3rieIRNgjCMz_pyto-eobBU7sU9v12qp_3_6VqpdJC9LNnPfR/s1600-h/Shenandoah+Dijon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU7-gCu5Sxwj9MLoaKs02hDUjxYS_8YzMgLj_U5_uJ_pVFp_y_GLZ29F-jU0U8beeZaLi7lxopa_vMItkwXs7fkhxsxDM3rieIRNgjCMz_pyto-eobBU7sU9v12qp_3_6VqpdJC9LNnPfR/s200/Shenandoah+Dijon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125651224618197890" border="0" /></a><br />No harm done, we headed to Beaune for market, lunch and shopping. Then back to the ship for dinner onboard and our own version of a Burgundy wine tasting.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Day #3<br /></div><br />...found us in the miserable little Golf Plus again, but this time cruising the back roads through Burgundy. A friend recommended that we stop at the <a href="http://perso.orange.fr/alain.miteran/indexchto.htm">Château de Gevrey-Chambertin</a> which we did and had a great time with the son of the current owner. He explained their small operation and the care they took to produce the small quantities of good wine every year.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5lY8OdGI8gkKn7FfI39dG5tylk5rVgYKk0keBNLaa7u_aDhmev3zeulWObfOzmdYHWnhRsGiRU1dJjjavt_60dhUVBd9SMokbaqNqQVmrnnsWITYno98xFZzyYFU1zqMwQlNSkxUZtbX2/s1600-h/Nita:Vineyard.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5lY8OdGI8gkKn7FfI39dG5tylk5rVgYKk0keBNLaa7u_aDhmev3zeulWObfOzmdYHWnhRsGiRU1dJjjavt_60dhUVBd9SMokbaqNqQVmrnnsWITYno98xFZzyYFU1zqMwQlNSkxUZtbX2/s200/Nita:Vineyard.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125652113676428194" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnsR88UuQcNiDyrZPqLk-IeyewOGG6lQploqTxp7ysORs87g56ZQOJqB_1K0aJVxbdN1Ajlr3FxPgTrXE2E-KUvDlHhIAc_iVThVETP3wPB29U6laLP4L_NzmrSavgdbwuhus3n8YqzUL_/s1600-h/Uncle+Dick+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnsR88UuQcNiDyrZPqLk-IeyewOGG6lQploqTxp7ysORs87g56ZQOJqB_1K0aJVxbdN1Ajlr3FxPgTrXE2E-KUvDlHhIAc_iVThVETP3wPB29U6laLP4L_NzmrSavgdbwuhus3n8YqzUL_/s200/Uncle+Dick+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125652869590672306" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Day #4<br /></div><br />A nine o'clock lock time for the journey back to St. Usage.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(The statement, "nine o'clock lock time," makes me think of times friends and relatives have mentioned that they had a "tee time" they had to meet. I have never been a golfer, and to me the mere mention of the sport puts me to sleep immediately. So, I guess, instead of a nine o'clock tee time with a Ping driver, I have a nine o'clock lock time with an eighty ton boat - different strokes for different folks.)</span><br /><br />The day started out a little foggy,<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1_dEzAviNsIBBJDTwAH0tXX1C1HYlIuB4KSshyBOCqb_550xu2jwh-i-8q_nFjOPhsnNCTpZp0iZ_-ubAM90JLf_KcVEbiB9edFJgDv3gzjhymOyHrLfBY_37XMdx8A_IMM16EyDZdsjm/s1600-h/Uncle+Dick.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1_dEzAviNsIBBJDTwAH0tXX1C1HYlIuB4KSshyBOCqb_550xu2jwh-i-8q_nFjOPhsnNCTpZp0iZ_-ubAM90JLf_KcVEbiB9edFJgDv3gzjhymOyHrLfBY_37XMdx8A_IMM16EyDZdsjm/s200/Uncle+Dick.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125655201757914162" border="0" /></a><br />but quickly turned into one of those beautiful fall days that you remember as a kid. It's twenty-one locks back to home port and too much to do in one day.<br /><br />Aunt Nita and Aunt Carol decided to do a little walking while the ship proceeded southward. It's pretty amazing, but you can actually walk faster from point A to point B on the canals than you can ride in a boat. This, of course, is due to the locks and having to slow, stop, go up, or go down, etc.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwz23RWCwo8CFc2j6OMsok_q-oMk_qlgKealfpsdQnhJk8pNSqJ3iAv8Ua78xAltZ71vtUiOiddxYvj46QUY-0WHcnNEWHZH_DG3vup-6ve29Wj-vbmSPfcnAERg9G_9egVWRg8OpjHo4/s1600-h/nita:ME.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJwz23RWCwo8CFc2j6OMsok_q-oMk_qlgKealfpsdQnhJk8pNSqJ3iAv8Ua78xAltZ71vtUiOiddxYvj46QUY-0WHcnNEWHZH_DG3vup-6ve29Wj-vbmSPfcnAERg9G_9egVWRg8OpjHo4/s200/nita:ME.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125653698519360466" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEPA0u0_I6l4t3HODUN1W6kJWNy50vkEyWZdQYkX4a224m5tTqmNJkN3QNvj-Lak-vGIlN9Xd0FH3ENKUJQxXQxEJ5PVczLPkWkIxnVnyCothM5DPkWYyeBBpqr_Cg03A1OaRuthmS2zF/s1600-h/Carol:Nita+Walk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeEPA0u0_I6l4t3HODUN1W6kJWNy50vkEyWZdQYkX4a224m5tTqmNJkN3QNvj-Lak-vGIlN9Xd0FH3ENKUJQxXQxEJ5PVczLPkWkIxnVnyCothM5DPkWYyeBBpqr_Cg03A1OaRuthmS2zF/s200/Carol:Nita+Walk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125653823073412066" border="0" /></a><br />The aunts were able to get some good shots of the Shenandoah from the banks of the canals.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbfnC58qDG-bwLLrCq7FUd1gp2ogTXnKdufEOnNrcYy3KqjLbtfqXNn9VGglKzxszQayms7tAaPtcW8RHpHagO03sraLLVxLHGU0ulTxJ_fP-DGJoeGJ5p-MKKNUgPQL5oWbNG0yOPWhBs/s1600-h/Shenandoah+Nita+Photo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbfnC58qDG-bwLLrCq7FUd1gp2ogTXnKdufEOnNrcYy3KqjLbtfqXNn9VGglKzxszQayms7tAaPtcW8RHpHagO03sraLLVxLHGU0ulTxJ_fP-DGJoeGJ5p-MKKNUgPQL5oWbNG0yOPWhBs/s200/Shenandoah+Nita+Photo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125653969102300146" border="0" /></a><br />Although I have always encouraged nude barging, Uncle Dick was my first taker.<br /><br />Hurray for Uncle Dick!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMVrDQYjfFp2dU4wWHnPlW8aCPO6wNc_3o1w2x49WerL8F_ANDzXtqv-RYmwZ9TZV6IL8yoYTHJOvpaC6bGfOjgFwjlZlw3Egt9hbeU8pO-le6YDGIP7qeh5rA31jJGYrfNpkan4ztfRfv/s1600-h/Uncle+Dick+Nude.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMVrDQYjfFp2dU4wWHnPlW8aCPO6wNc_3o1w2x49WerL8F_ANDzXtqv-RYmwZ9TZV6IL8yoYTHJOvpaC6bGfOjgFwjlZlw3Egt9hbeU8pO-le6YDGIP7qeh5rA31jJGYrfNpkan4ztfRfv/s200/Uncle+Dick+Nude.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125655081498829858" border="0" /></a><br />We decided to overnight at Longecourt, one of our favorite stops along this route, and get an early start the next morning.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjjxYrlfnolm-Rm3TRQzfFWmUKtidkGeUz4HFm3Y-8GgIrVi9yazcPvkm56RNIYLWmyy8rYirBoUopK2l6eFiRKbJZgzBV_nNfhRWvm2_eRbSTswBYAdVtlNIa69db4ZLkvSzUC2cKAR-0/s1600-h/Longecourt+Dinner.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjjxYrlfnolm-Rm3TRQzfFWmUKtidkGeUz4HFm3Y-8GgIrVi9yazcPvkm56RNIYLWmyy8rYirBoUopK2l6eFiRKbJZgzBV_nNfhRWvm2_eRbSTswBYAdVtlNIa69db4ZLkvSzUC2cKAR-0/s200/Longecourt+Dinner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125653260432696258" border="0" /></a><br />Dinner onboard and waaaaaay toooooo much wine. But, as the sun set slowly in the west the evening took on an enchanted glow, perhaps again because of the wine!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0FDSTY6hJH6h1HR5pKD2y0Y0iaJpNcRGIOcJ5eFrB6lRZMfq7q9vJL1lmGvWYqpkmdAhSLrN9lfLnNEbiDo3etB_eF7zu29_XGG8MDBss2k0ZNpTuO2MYO6KR6svCFw4Fb6rbeDrYlsy5/s1600-h/Dusk+on+the+bourgogne.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0FDSTY6hJH6h1HR5pKD2y0Y0iaJpNcRGIOcJ5eFrB6lRZMfq7q9vJL1lmGvWYqpkmdAhSLrN9lfLnNEbiDo3etB_eF7zu29_XGG8MDBss2k0ZNpTuO2MYO6KR6svCFw4Fb6rbeDrYlsy5/s200/Dusk+on+the+bourgogne.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125654497383277586" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Day #5<br /></div><br />Arrived in St. Usage just after lunch. After a walking tour of the thriving metropolis of St. Jean de Losne and an aperitif in a quaint little river side cafe, we headed back to the ship for the final evenings festivities with the aunts...and one uncle.<br /><br />We were sorry to see them leave the next morning when we put them in a taxi for Dijon and their train to Paris. Their visit with us was much too short and there were many more things we wanted to share with them here in our beautiful part of the Earth. Maybe next time...<br /><br />I did notice that the wine futures on the New York Stock Exchange rose dramatically during the aunts visit. Was there any connection?Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-58963204623737510282007-10-14T17:17:00.000+01:002008-12-09T05:57:55.840+00:00We never know where the road will take us.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHp81UkAR9QwOh3sRj8-CPDablbz_5dXDB2eVqeQs5nsec9_YwPf73ac1WSF1B8xxOoyltiKEgS2gpKYgd43J-eh18HVk5IKKhtBOvLHJCtzEGEuM31A-C5ignzGHY0q6g69HXHcNiLmL/s1600-h/Fall+Trip+France.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEHp81UkAR9QwOh3sRj8-CPDablbz_5dXDB2eVqeQs5nsec9_YwPf73ac1WSF1B8xxOoyltiKEgS2gpKYgd43J-eh18HVk5IKKhtBOvLHJCtzEGEuM31A-C5ignzGHY0q6g69HXHcNiLmL/s200/Fall+Trip+France.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121234656551335218" border="0" /></a><br />I am the travel planner. I like to have reservations and destinations. For me part of the fun is the planning – knowing what we can see, getting somewhere in the middle of the afternoon because we know how far we will be going and then exploring. For Dave, the adventure is the unknown – no plans, no reservations, and destinations to be discovered at the end of the day. It's not the best mix but it always works out in the end.<br /><br />Day One had a plan – we were going to get on the highway and drive to the Gorge of Tarn which would have been about a five hour drive, getting us there mid-afternoon with plenty of time to explore. Luckily, I packed sandwiches. We got off the highway after an hour, took a detour through Roanne (should the captain ever want to leave the boat there – and just so you know – he will not) and headed in a southerly direction on the back roads. We drove through the village of La Chaise-Dieu and took a peek at the ancient Benedictine abbey and church; and the town of Le Puy–en-Velay, which is the starting point of one of the main pilgrimage paths in France and were amazed by the church of St. Michael perched on the tip-top of a rocky needle point.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhTWd7Io6iJ9_tTVrqW4PjwvmUgbhwWQI-m5ap7MQK3sWwt7db_z9U2UdER9Li1YKySyZJ0zZtsRgu7vnkNs2tN2De1FOR9LbtcI2MU8viKKsN1xarGg8vnpEYRy7SbCwy1_PTPqXjLKdE/s1600-h/IMG_2209.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhTWd7Io6iJ9_tTVrqW4PjwvmUgbhwWQI-m5ap7MQK3sWwt7db_z9U2UdER9Li1YKySyZJ0zZtsRgu7vnkNs2tN2De1FOR9LbtcI2MU8viKKsN1xarGg8vnpEYRy7SbCwy1_PTPqXjLKdE/s200/IMG_2209.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121235317976298818" border="0" /></a><br />We arrived at our destination at 7:30 in the evening. We did not experience the Gorge of Tarn at less than 60 km/hour. It looked really pretty though like a great crevasse carved deep into the rock with a beautiful, clear river running crisply through it. Reservation in hand, we stayed in a wonderful hotel where we had an excellent dinner but perhaps the piece-de-resistance was our room. We were on the top floor, all the rooms have a view of the river, but ours also had a small balcony and the sliding glass doors which opened onto the balcony, extended, in the form of a giant skylight, into the ceiling. The night sky looked like India ink with no light pollution, the stars were brilliant in their clarity, and we were blanketed by the milky way.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDcwDhb30Ry_LeQU6ELt-tcdH1z4kSTkMZM-dlXOZhO8nV5WxtH8ZkzZN_04y6Womcno15Jn_gzECJTDXKVfKC3s5wmekLbSv2XSCbJR0YHaVbxAY4ogu6Pvy5DoditKoOCHP_1tgmujRZ/s1600-h/IMG_2224.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDcwDhb30Ry_LeQU6ELt-tcdH1z4kSTkMZM-dlXOZhO8nV5WxtH8ZkzZN_04y6Womcno15Jn_gzECJTDXKVfKC3s5wmekLbSv2XSCbJR0YHaVbxAY4ogu6Pvy5DoditKoOCHP_1tgmujRZ/s200/IMG_2224.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121236554926880082" border="0" /></a><br />Day Two also had a plan – we were headed to Cordes-sur-Ciel, where we were meeting our friends Pam and John North. We opted for all back roads again as that is our preference and we didn't have all that far to travel. Our day began with a typical French buffet breakfast in the hotel, a toe dipping in the river for me, a fish sighting for Dave and off we went, headed toward Millau for a look at the extraordinary viaduct, which is the tallest suspension bridge in the world.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAsckwMiO8gjPS08sMax-NiQ_6SfYUfzZu7bdcCkk5JQsVWbacwXLhxyeUHbmwMtEV2vHc4sWjzFYQzcGyRwsIB-fF0XvvRT5bzI6wk1o1hVqNFvqHXlUm1avwpezqi4ScN-OSqGx_Okjt/s1600-h/IMG_2262.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAsckwMiO8gjPS08sMax-NiQ_6SfYUfzZu7bdcCkk5JQsVWbacwXLhxyeUHbmwMtEV2vHc4sWjzFYQzcGyRwsIB-fF0XvvRT5bzI6wk1o1hVqNFvqHXlUm1avwpezqi4ScN-OSqGx_Okjt/s200/IMG_2262.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121236825509819746" border="0" /></a><br />Our next detour was to Roquefort, home of the famous cheese. And did “ewe” know, it is made from sheep's milk? We arrived just as the local church bell struck noon, so in accordance with French custom, the cheese vaults were closed for lunch. We did find a shop with a mini-display of the cheese making process and of course we bought a few pieces of their brand of Roquefort - which we added to the bread left over from breakfast and had a picnic in a little park.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTWxsNvx-dzaz2ds97BQv6TeKUGbmnJTqmmdXa9sbbT27QrpwcGuOjwGU7rmPjRqVVG8CIjPmlelJBT-zPJdM-XCy8-a0ejUhIByoGrFpcFme-hSydhYHQvmhk5tvrhH2qeCgMTot6u0lG/s1600-h/Roquefort.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTWxsNvx-dzaz2ds97BQv6TeKUGbmnJTqmmdXa9sbbT27QrpwcGuOjwGU7rmPjRqVVG8CIjPmlelJBT-zPJdM-XCy8-a0ejUhIByoGrFpcFme-hSydhYHQvmhk5tvrhH2qeCgMTot6u0lG/s200/Roquefort.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121247288050153138" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_2VhDnfxQk5XEnWkdlDylcy2JqqnoWBx2r5tutjR8v66YvaI2tGY8ppEJY0EFaD1OY64m9cq_Dkjrdc1fUHK3likto0U_7DRvppgPtScm0tybr2NGJhSMWcmMkp5J-7NoKtg9dv4SsbuM/s1600-h/IMG_2267.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_2VhDnfxQk5XEnWkdlDylcy2JqqnoWBx2r5tutjR8v66YvaI2tGY8ppEJY0EFaD1OY64m9cq_Dkjrdc1fUHK3likto0U_7DRvppgPtScm0tybr2NGJhSMWcmMkp5J-7NoKtg9dv4SsbuM/s200/IMG_2267.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121237538474390930" border="0" /></a><br />After our brief repast, we drove through the town of St. Affrique which I had seen written about somewhere but we couldn't figure out why. Next we stopped in Camares with an abbey that is now known as a capital for sacred music in France, and nearby we visited a newly constructed Russian Orthodox church built out of logs. We arrived in Cordes-sur-Ciel around 4:00 in the afternoon after a drive through the mountains with so many hair-pin turns that we could have been a French twist! Those roads went up and down and around and around, climbed steeply, dropped sharply and all with a string of impatient drivers within inches in front or back or alongside because they did not see this as anything but exhilarating – and death-defying - stunt opportunities. When we checked into the little house where we had reservations, we found that Pam and John were still out on a bike ride so we took ourselves to visit the town. Dave had researched this village and found it much heralded for it's population of artists and craftsmen; we think they left before we arrived, but it was a charming old walled town. The four of us had dinner in the village, wine back at the house and collapsed from all the fun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhswu4awhRV-CtKCdKBQibzSft6I9TVGdwc4FU4YHQcQOhdUxrI0pfZo-F1NLf8XJRlEex8wUpcj9iKW4y0VhKujtQI1_rC30X1QXv_mzlmsQ9tWDwyD_7dZgbY7W4jBfvkOX8b4wnkwyLa/s1600-h/IMG_2306.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhswu4awhRV-CtKCdKBQibzSft6I9TVGdwc4FU4YHQcQOhdUxrI0pfZo-F1NLf8XJRlEex8wUpcj9iKW4y0VhKujtQI1_rC30X1QXv_mzlmsQ9tWDwyD_7dZgbY7W4jBfvkOX8b4wnkwyLa/s200/IMG_2306.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121237852007003554" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCx5mBqetbscoI7nR29RjGLp8ufvTWNfToPPr_XfcYFk2X0NLDgXLZSLjiA0UjOdKOl0WNJyTSdPCCXNEMjNH0fX-du9qEVb9FRHVD7ijJsnirxbz52qees2oqDFAH7ssxjIxMuzp6QneP/s1600-h/Fois+Gras.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCx5mBqetbscoI7nR29RjGLp8ufvTWNfToPPr_XfcYFk2X0NLDgXLZSLjiA0UjOdKOl0WNJyTSdPCCXNEMjNH0fX-du9qEVb9FRHVD7ijJsnirxbz52qees2oqDFAH7ssxjIxMuzp6QneP/s200/Fois+Gras.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121251540067776274" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizJdVidFIVV8W57DTO32R3gHHma5MEVr4T7QMvd_my3tkr9bZo48gRaljIXo8MWrzGSmy1S4kw8WbLam_7R0Z-R_V7bp0MWLUzqNl9ubPFH-UmbxxxJC2YCi6bx3cxjTewgyN0ea4k6eUb/s1600-h/IMG_2324.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizJdVidFIVV8W57DTO32R3gHHma5MEVr4T7QMvd_my3tkr9bZo48gRaljIXo8MWrzGSmy1S4kw8WbLam_7R0Z-R_V7bp0MWLUzqNl9ubPFH-UmbxxxJC2YCi6bx3cxjTewgyN0ea4k6eUb/s200/IMG_2324.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121238380287980994" border="0" /></a><br />In the morning, some of us had a brief game of “trying to open the rental car with the keys locked inside” and off we went to the market in Villefranche. Pam had heard that it was the biggest market in southwest France; if so, too bad for the markets of southwest France and that's all I have to say about it. We had a “market lunch” in the town – this means that it took two plus hours to have a lunch consisting of the “plat du jour” which was not written anywhere so we had no idea of what was to be forthcoming until we saw our neighbors plates. Then we were told that whatever they were having, the restaurant was now out of and did we want “tete de veau” or the sausages? Well – I don't know about you but I am never going to eat the head of a calf so I chose the sausages. Are you paying attention here? We are in the town with the “largest market in southwest France” and they are out of the plat du jour already – why couldn't they just go around the corner and get some more? Well, good question, as it turned out that they were out of the first course salad of lettuce, etc., as well, and we were given some sort of terrine of fois gras (for which this region is known). Ok – now they were out of the sausages they substituted for whatever we were supposed to have and we were served fois gras sausages with mashed potatoes. All in all, it was rather good. Dessert, as you might see coming, was not the same as everyone else's had been but some sort of something that I have now forgotten. For this we waited and waited, and finally were exhausted from the sheer pleasure of being finished.<br /><br />Since we had no plan for the day – we said good-bye to Pam and John and headed for the highway. We drove southwest, around Toulouse – home of the manufacturer of the Airbus airplanes (Eurotrash, as Dave, a die-hard Boeing man calls them), and went to the charming area of Sauveterre-de-Comminges, at the foot of the Pyrenees. We stayed in an old hotel/inn in the country where we had a beautiful view of the mountains and enjoyed a delightful dinner in the dining room.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmP0xzjHDsbsPV7rz4TGrE6wSEFfMYqFn0gRJA6aihIS0TDpKUznBc4iqcfRsPeTER6xQDsO8j3O6bBZzRIrM352B4xaH1IVazh9XlAiQFPXeIH8xg3aMUcCsr62cY7bYoOR_dx_CNNFel/s1600-h/IMG_2338.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmP0xzjHDsbsPV7rz4TGrE6wSEFfMYqFn0gRJA6aihIS0TDpKUznBc4iqcfRsPeTER6xQDsO8j3O6bBZzRIrM352B4xaH1IVazh9XlAiQFPXeIH8xg3aMUcCsr62cY7bYoOR_dx_CNNFel/s200/IMG_2338.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121238668050789842" border="0" /></a><br />Day Three's itinerary only had a stop at Lourdes in the plans. I thought we were eventually headed for Biarritz, but that would have been two plans in a day which is excessive -- by two. We had no idea what to expect at Lourdes and I would say that we were exceedingly glad that we visited in September because we could see that in the high season months the potential for zillions of people to be there on any given day was probable. We visited the church, the grotto, and the shrine; lit candles, drank holy water, bought souvenirs, filled a gallon jug with holy water, got back in the car and headed west.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpOHYEU-EX7RDxsj7YchLlyEpsMKDnNRvjtfp0-iCFRkYmt113lKKOKbwcx4Cr9iGL2f5-v5TAwvmfcEw3DA75wp6GidBuGGl5ROIxXzVLzvdhA-m7PkM3u6asT9k9__vjg5IvVp8XYZ3/s1600-h/Lourdes+1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpOHYEU-EX7RDxsj7YchLlyEpsMKDnNRvjtfp0-iCFRkYmt113lKKOKbwcx4Cr9iGL2f5-v5TAwvmfcEw3DA75wp6GidBuGGl5ROIxXzVLzvdhA-m7PkM3u6asT9k9__vjg5IvVp8XYZ3/s200/Lourdes+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121248254417794754" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGFTZLBPiQ4Zl4r5DU8VqfwAs73LsZtpB0szXBmcDNnPgpTs3x1ew0rEpq_E0qGzJKh-vtAfBTQ9Lx5Fb-clevuGlEhUaaEZuCzCtsTDIV0yMKMTxe_dblIrfVIBGDYn4XNLps-f2W4IxP/s1600-h/Lourdes+2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGFTZLBPiQ4Zl4r5DU8VqfwAs73LsZtpB0szXBmcDNnPgpTs3x1ew0rEpq_E0qGzJKh-vtAfBTQ9Lx5Fb-clevuGlEhUaaEZuCzCtsTDIV0yMKMTxe_dblIrfVIBGDYn4XNLps-f2W4IxP/s200/Lourdes+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121248486346028754" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW7FKQ2aAcRgwn57F0cHg1ATt06a0CRZtwAo2J8yDc3gOS4XWiMv4vkPCDceeE9VSFtGAdfeg8CBqutVkCFjRhCjmJIFgiVVU6wrzx0D3Bq6fdEmEyKbk7kpVkIu6NJyVSQUl1DjceQgXP/s1600-h/Lourdes+3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW7FKQ2aAcRgwn57F0cHg1ATt06a0CRZtwAo2J8yDc3gOS4XWiMv4vkPCDceeE9VSFtGAdfeg8CBqutVkCFjRhCjmJIFgiVVU6wrzx0D3Bq6fdEmEyKbk7kpVkIu6NJyVSQUl1DjceQgXP/s200/Lourdes+3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121248718274262754" border="0" /></a><br />Quietly, the mountains loomed on the horizon; the countryside subtly changed as we entered into the Basque region near the Spanish border. The usual tan/mud color of the houses changed into white with red trim, roofs and shutters, the architecture changed from vertical to more horizontal. There were cows, tobacco, sheep, and eventually the town and road signs were in two languages, French and Euskara. This odd language, which dates back to Neolithic times, and is unrelated to any other languages, is important to the culture of the area. Our original destination was Biarritz but we were drawn further south to St. Jean-de-Luz, or Donibane Lohizune in Euskara.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXO1jaD_tmI83tf7wRV2U89CoGu9pHq1mqJrDWBWv_M0cTgf6r0WCJwde_GUKGq4N4LyGiwWsoIgzhYxOgOoeeQEjWLOeCwHS23041ayUo4LpVlhzZ0MFZhnfKTeA2rq3InsbDyQru5u8o/s1600-h/IMG_2393.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXO1jaD_tmI83tf7wRV2U89CoGu9pHq1mqJrDWBWv_M0cTgf6r0WCJwde_GUKGq4N4LyGiwWsoIgzhYxOgOoeeQEjWLOeCwHS23041ayUo4LpVlhzZ0MFZhnfKTeA2rq3InsbDyQru5u8o/s200/IMG_2393.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121240038145357362" border="0" /></a><br />St. Jean-de-Luz is a charming town on a harbor on the Atlantic coast. The beaches were wide and sandy. Surfers and swimmers and boats carrying passengers, fisherman, and cargo were busy competing for the waters. It was evening when we arrived and it took several tries to find a hotel room but we finally succeeded in finding a large and comfortable room in a very nice hotel just a block away from the beach. We walked several blocks down a main street for pedestrian traffic with shops and restaurants along the way, until we reached the harbor area where there was an abundance of seafood restaurants all offering the most beautiful array of food. The one we chose for dinner had this display outside, and Dave chose a tray with crawfish, shrimp, sea snails, oysters, langoustine, and a huge crab.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_RzY_NEYunSi08eawRkhl92LCdIPWm6Kql9GnfMn1xYl7vHijcxMDxXVDxR00eyiLWkL6yOX6-BMAQK37x5T1J7NP7reD9S2YAIkfV7z-5fHeChMk0GAXczB-6LAou1d5uI2777cIjCPr/s1600-h/food+display.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_RzY_NEYunSi08eawRkhl92LCdIPWm6Kql9GnfMn1xYl7vHijcxMDxXVDxR00eyiLWkL6yOX6-BMAQK37x5T1J7NP7reD9S2YAIkfV7z-5fHeChMk0GAXczB-6LAou1d5uI2777cIjCPr/s200/food+display.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121259782110017314" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Mk6kp2jae3zKpQ841A3ieVNBH0fvz-gLSBdjcGgw9E5QzoM-yHxzZfVnPlq3yUngjdHtlwpofDxT5JqoUNNULVPQDvZR7q_cXddp7i2JQn80BqigJAd-vQ9QERq02jraqyJ2JTrUUC1x/s1600-h/Shellfish.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Mk6kp2jae3zKpQ841A3ieVNBH0fvz-gLSBdjcGgw9E5QzoM-yHxzZfVnPlq3yUngjdHtlwpofDxT5JqoUNNULVPQDvZR7q_cXddp7i2JQn80BqigJAd-vQ9QERq02jraqyJ2JTrUUC1x/s200/Shellfish.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121249409763997426" border="0" /></a><br />This was my dinner - it looked like a sick fish in a blanket - good thing it came with pasta!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRvTJ49gXqrxbya3sxsZiTGuFSE5JBjQd7OfHJa8B9810lk_4EaVon1fcrVWGoDx6B4cIOte_snaBoEG0fzVqaQXX84kBmrJlmzNPjWMaH5zcNlXMLeTINfs_NpZ-wfumsAZRm29fvqqa/s1600-h/IMG_2375.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiRvTJ49gXqrxbya3sxsZiTGuFSE5JBjQd7OfHJa8B9810lk_4EaVon1fcrVWGoDx6B4cIOte_snaBoEG0fzVqaQXX84kBmrJlmzNPjWMaH5zcNlXMLeTINfs_NpZ-wfumsAZRm29fvqqa/s200/IMG_2375.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121239887821501986" border="0" /></a><br />In the morning we actually decided to stay in St. Jean-de-Luz for another day! We walked around the town, bought some of the local macaroons, looked at the boats in the harbor, ducked out of the rain into a sidewalk cafe for lunch. Dave went back to the hotel for an afternoon nap and I went shopping. I was fascinated by the Basque linens, many shops sold them and each shop had a different brand and quality.<br /><br />They are as indigenous to that area as the provencal prints are to the south of France and the toile is in the north. The Basque “toile” as they call it there, is striped – sometimes in one color on a white background, sometimes many color stripes. The quality and the prices range from one end of the spectrum to the other. It is mostly sold as table linens – cloths and napkins and sometimes placemats. It is occasionally sold by the yard, but one store actually had it upholstered on furniture with matching blankets, towels, bathrobes, etc. If you're curious, look up www.euskal-linge.com.<br /><br />That evening we went back to the same block as the night before for dinner and chose a restaurant across the street where Dave had local oysters and fried sardines, I had moules a la crème . The rain of the day had stopped so we walked back to the hotel along the beach and stopped in a beach front restaurant/bar to watch the rugby game. It was over by the time we got there but the bartender introduced us to some tasty local wine, which was probably better than the rugby game anyway.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcDhYd-pQ5kwAvFVeD1i7pdovck-cMSz7ij3qwcg8B3yNEmrX_iAcLsFPY9loGy2k7Rm6CVOZeVKc4tS89iUbfxVOyeeyKaEIPAw3rJ1rTNtHxHHVTuxnXVj1AHsicPNCnAuqNTJiuty3u/s1600-h/IMG_2397.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcDhYd-pQ5kwAvFVeD1i7pdovck-cMSz7ij3qwcg8B3yNEmrX_iAcLsFPY9loGy2k7Rm6CVOZeVKc4tS89iUbfxVOyeeyKaEIPAw3rJ1rTNtHxHHVTuxnXVj1AHsicPNCnAuqNTJiuty3u/s200/IMG_2397.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121241897866196562" border="0" /></a><br />The next day we drove north along the coast, sped through Biarritz, which was the summer home of Napoleon III and Princess Eugenia and is now a playground of the rich and famous. Even on a weekday at the end of September, it was crowded and we were thankful we had chosen St. Jean.<br /><br />We meandered along, stopped for lunch in a small town that reminded Dave of the movie Deliverance, explored a few beach towns, and drove by an absolutely huge sand dune, the <a href="http://www.france-for-visitors.com/photo-gallery/south-west/dune-du-pyla.html">Dune de Plya</a>, which is the largest sand dune in Europe. It is 3 km long, 500 meters wide, and 107 meters in height! Around the corner is the town of Arcachon, which is were we decided to stay for the night.<br /><br />Arcachon is thirty-four miles southwest of Bordeaux and is situated on a bassin, or bay, just inside the Atlantic Ocean. The bay is surrounded by towns on all sides with all sorts of boating and water sports available. There is an island in the bassin which is a preserve for birds, but my favorite feature is the oyster beds. We had seen oyster beds last fall on our trip to the Med, but these are much bigger. The oyster seeds are placed in the individual owners beds at low tide and there they grow until it is time to harvest them. All the work must be done when the tide is low. An interesting feature of this bay is that at high tide the bay covers an area of 150 km2, and 40 km2 at low tide. There are small little towns next to Arcachon that have all the oyster boats and the huts where they prepare the oysters for seed and harvest; there are restaurants there and shops to buy the oysters, as well as an oyster museum. We do own the dvd “Ostreiculteurs Du Bassin D'Arcachon” for any of those of you who might wish to consider oystering as a second career.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitFluAakod9r1ZMJwIiKS71QrEtPF7XSqgtUhgYYFTVmfXKi6_oAQn3vNx6RadBn8rEYwVp6JbLuNYzbuIt-gVbxOeEi6jEc7VHMUbkYMTLzmi5kKxraI2lAcbUKLUdb9l_xhQldHGSO6W/s1600-h/IMG_2456.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitFluAakod9r1ZMJwIiKS71QrEtPF7XSqgtUhgYYFTVmfXKi6_oAQn3vNx6RadBn8rEYwVp6JbLuNYzbuIt-gVbxOeEi6jEc7VHMUbkYMTLzmi5kKxraI2lAcbUKLUdb9l_xhQldHGSO6W/s200/IMG_2456.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121242172744103538" border="0" /></a><br />We took a long walk into town along a boardwalk, chose one of the many restaurants, had dinner, oysters, as you see, for Dave. He thought they were distinctly different from the oysters in St. Jean-de-Luz; there are of course, hundreds of oyster varieties within the three broad classifications: Pacific, Olympia and Atlantic; but each grouping is then further broken down to the very shore from which they are harvested.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3pqfTNTwWn2XpoXKP2TcROKsFhryBjTgEmQTbXnEBMp-VPNzSR4pp3lU_pWSgRd5QE2KdbdZf7Tro5NShgMd2eKgBvkNHD3F3D4hRDYhb3BqHRnxD41ySjlww-GW25fN-U-dAWVJTJaI/s1600-h/Oysters.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3pqfTNTwWn2XpoXKP2TcROKsFhryBjTgEmQTbXnEBMp-VPNzSR4pp3lU_pWSgRd5QE2KdbdZf7Tro5NShgMd2eKgBvkNHD3F3D4hRDYhb3BqHRnxD41ySjlww-GW25fN-U-dAWVJTJaI/s200/Oysters.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121249749066413826" border="0" /></a><br />On the walk back through town, we found a little local bar which was selling postcards so we went in, bought postcards, drank wine, met some interesting people and walked back to our beach front hotel where we had a view of the bay and could hear the sound of the waves on the beach. In the morning, at low tide, we could see the oyster beds in the distance.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7fKEivKVI7BYCsxTSJdxeNUoy7-wT07I1yG-wk6XNN1KH0-5ZCElgv9MeN1ypJ5xHFL2xItr0gG58tRgjMxAzAwh8jzV2jBYSP2-Z-crd2ynmgP-6FrS9nMxvcLSc3rC2_Hz4Z8voFXO7/s1600-h/IMG_2434.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7fKEivKVI7BYCsxTSJdxeNUoy7-wT07I1yG-wk6XNN1KH0-5ZCElgv9MeN1ypJ5xHFL2xItr0gG58tRgjMxAzAwh8jzV2jBYSP2-Z-crd2ynmgP-6FrS9nMxvcLSc3rC2_Hz4Z8voFXO7/s200/IMG_2434.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121242615125735058" border="0" /></a><br />Our next destination was Limoges, home of French fine china and porcelain. We buzzed around Bordeaux and Bergerac, homes of the fine wines. We did try to stop at one vineyard but when we missed a sign, we gave up and pressed on. We made it to Limoges in the early evening and stayed at a Mercure hotel right downtown. We found a cafe nearby for dinner and an ice cream restaurant for dessert. The next day we found new dishes for the Shenandoah at the Menard de Noblat outlet store and we headed for Nevers.<br /><br />Dave wanted to see Nevers which is on the Canal Lateral a la Loire, and the Loire River. We arrived, as usual, around 5:00 p.m. on a Friday night without a reservation or clue as to where to stay. Well, we needn't have worried about where to stay – the moral of that story is never stay in Nevers without a reservation. Off we went in an easterly direction at 6:30 with about a cupful of gasoline in the car with the gas stations closing at 7:00. Fortunately the next little village had a gas station so our options opened up a bit from our thoughts of spending the night roadside in the car with our leftover half empty box of macaroons.<br /><br />About 15 minutes further down the road we passed a small inn which had not only a room available but also a dining room. Dinner was served at 7:30 and the room was full. Dinner was excellent, as was the 26 E bottle of wine that we had. Dave was so inspired by the company at the next table that he bought a second bottle of wine to share with them – and guess what? The gentleman was an ex-British Airways pilot! The talk flowed, as did the wine, probably because it was my turn to buy! Oh well, what can you do? There is no such thing as dinner without wine in France.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizIKhQ5Uj2yG4TN6aHdzrC60showRDl6chOX7H2Vbf3yIMvb7lLClZas20arDhNJoIRjyJloXCVU1WjTjRWtY9sz3I7nd1L1F3Jv0BENT9WXnkQuI5pylD4e4T6etSmx4eCbpLCBqW4t4I/s1600-h/IMG_2480.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizIKhQ5Uj2yG4TN6aHdzrC60showRDl6chOX7H2Vbf3yIMvb7lLClZas20arDhNJoIRjyJloXCVU1WjTjRWtY9sz3I7nd1L1F3Jv0BENT9WXnkQuI5pylD4e4T6etSmx4eCbpLCBqW4t4I/s200/IMG_2480.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121242383197501058" border="0" /></a><br />The last leg of our journey home took us through the town of Autun, where they were having a market. Needless to say, we stopped and I equalized our excess of the last night for the next few days by buying a case of wine from a local vintner – Pinot Noir at 3.00E a bottle – it would have been 2.50E if you bought it directly at the vineyard. It was amazingly good and a fitting last purchase as all's well that ends well!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-38844318998176171152007-09-03T15:53:00.000+01:002008-12-09T05:57:57.128+00:00The Inside Story<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZ3msNaZ4rP6xqftscGjE9bK1YMHebklXXVhfxrt3Knq5lRRU3dJQ8fJEhvG95wZuW8eqXYklm8yZNDw4iBUH2Q3QehizvFFe8F0xA07jdl6kS_1KuT-KwTW3XAPqaFfk573DszvA9twt/s1600-h/cat+art.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZ3msNaZ4rP6xqftscGjE9bK1YMHebklXXVhfxrt3Knq5lRRU3dJQ8fJEhvG95wZuW8eqXYklm8yZNDw4iBUH2Q3QehizvFFe8F0xA07jdl6kS_1KuT-KwTW3XAPqaFfk573DszvA9twt/s200/cat+art.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105999210216362594" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 255, 51);"><span style="font-size:85%;">(Clicking on the photos will give you larger images.)</span><br /><br /></span></div>As you know, curiosity got the cat, and the Shenandoah does have its own <span style="font-style: italic;">chat</span> – albeit a rather "stiff" one as he is painted on an ancient, wooden wine barrelhead and imprisoned under a wine glass; the latter not being all that unusual in Burgundy. <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We thought, for those of you who have not (yet) been aboard, you might like to see the interior of the ship.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzelLN-yn88OmQICQ2cz_nJIkurx657ShM1kRg2gY2PFav2-JwGwiXFubF_5cFnZBMtfUiYLS-2IMPpjZEwfSH13zAE5splziKDgLx1jxfm6IMariUMtOoviHBuawVhsrIh8yWcw5qDPCK/s1600-h/fore+deck.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzelLN-yn88OmQICQ2cz_nJIkurx657ShM1kRg2gY2PFav2-JwGwiXFubF_5cFnZBMtfUiYLS-2IMPpjZEwfSH13zAE5splziKDgLx1jxfm6IMariUMtOoviHBuawVhsrIh8yWcw5qDPCK/s200/fore+deck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105991831462547938" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Our tour begins on the foredeck with two wonderful lounge chairs, the perfect place to nap, sip wine, and spy on the neighbors. We then proceed aft to the wheelhouse with the built-in seating for six, table, and the navigation station.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3SmP2nXd_kMvT_NPacZt-nfnONEpcU0oUBplCxNooeAMc0SMsrKa0OSotrO5ztZp5yvo6PLxxc-O7xSmJTiTnY8-UjsRLEq2lJNaNQ_RmK8i-NFv2G6flW8yFd63_GzAr4cSecJegjvmQ/s1600-h/wheel+house.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3SmP2nXd_kMvT_NPacZt-nfnONEpcU0oUBplCxNooeAMc0SMsrKa0OSotrO5ztZp5yvo6PLxxc-O7xSmJTiTnY8-UjsRLEq2lJNaNQ_RmK8i-NFv2G6flW8yFd63_GzAr4cSecJegjvmQ/s200/wheel+house.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105993991831097938" border="0" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkYXhKSD0C5TL3kLsviQWIe8NB_qbSn7K4eMFjk6rcZiNBB8wWM1WMpykBJm06pU8K67VCs366nhupQfBrYOmo7rwY36V1sxyqHAHzm44gyktfog1uTtgNkD1ufWlDT1cyDOlm080JCCJ/s1600-h/nav+station.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkYXhKSD0C5TL3kLsviQWIe8NB_qbSn7K4eMFjk6rcZiNBB8wWM1WMpykBJm06pU8K67VCs366nhupQfBrYOmo7rwY36V1sxyqHAHzm44gyktfog1uTtgNkD1ufWlDT1cyDOlm080JCCJ/s200/nav+station.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105993639643779650" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Below, we'll start with the forward queen-sized guest stateroom, then a birds eye view of the twin-sized guest stateroom; both with ensuite bathrooms.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5x6r0HCiOfp8MQFbHcNllc_NN0qAhAyZXnthtecSZPjszSJ_kZqg0WsjrxCEvwtzlUAtLlgLwtfYfHLn5wfKKGBdfApdFBuGZyv1rw8IcA3xqVQA9wNCGAP84HnBZDyoKYZxzfjYNRkG/s1600-h/IMG_2530.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5x6r0HCiOfp8MQFbHcNllc_NN0qAhAyZXnthtecSZPjszSJ_kZqg0WsjrxCEvwtzlUAtLlgLwtfYfHLn5wfKKGBdfApdFBuGZyv1rw8IcA3xqVQA9wNCGAP84HnBZDyoKYZxzfjYNRkG/s200/IMG_2530.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120470753668068642" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfcd8pf-9zFJatCzlwWSkGuzyRgI7IpX-4xp7J-bCqMwBUZncK9cgprCnM2NQXh8s4lgiRS-O8xnFBBN573Q1TVhTGM66iIosfSoCoKrWhqG46dnEYqbPoBlIT_XVWW6Oh_5OWQ5i8EGjH/s1600-h/guest+cabin+1.jpg"><br /></a></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8oyRD7HjOAcTxVhCRtUf-K8UZvjEp-NUE7DMKqEZRt05SNAy1VtAm4dYLgNomgWjna4LESllUgg9LuppHUAduNk0AHWnM40r97_QI3GVumfiLAZ8oCHygvKrl5TblOPDy0pvztMHy5JtS/s1600-h/upper+berth+guest+cabin2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8oyRD7HjOAcTxVhCRtUf-K8UZvjEp-NUE7DMKqEZRt05SNAy1VtAm4dYLgNomgWjna4LESllUgg9LuppHUAduNk0AHWnM40r97_QI3GVumfiLAZ8oCHygvKrl5TblOPDy0pvztMHy5JtS/s200/upper+berth+guest+cabin2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105992570196922882" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Next is the "state of the art" galley with granite counters, a Bosch dishwasher, a five burner Bosch gas cooktop with a wok, two Bosch ovens that do all sorts of things we have yet to figure out, and a full-size Fisher & Paykel refrigerator with freezer.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Along the port side is a mahogany bar that alternates as a cocktail bar, coffee bar, and/or computer station. Underneath is a large wine rack.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ZbcH1iyqphwB0fHs6u1NayfKITKjfC-MCtEXHbn2tUH22RixEU7oZbctnlseF_WjZF25EPMd5pC-v-7VrMXzb36Nw1ehglMHLW7LPiDhj6b22JXp5izbvJnGfCSg-qkRfW8NVzU1OL6y/s1600-h/galley.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-ZbcH1iyqphwB0fHs6u1NayfKITKjfC-MCtEXHbn2tUH22RixEU7oZbctnlseF_WjZF25EPMd5pC-v-7VrMXzb36Nw1ehglMHLW7LPiDhj6b22JXp5izbvJnGfCSg-qkRfW8NVzU1OL6y/s200/galley.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105992729110712850" border="0" /></a> </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The main salon is furnished with Italian leather sofa, chair and ottoman. There is a folded dining table hiding behind the chair for the rare occasions that we may want to use it. As storage space is minimal in some ships, every inch is put to creative use. Behind the sofa is a full size inflatable six-man life raft, two hula hoops, a tool kit for hose fittings, a box of champagne, art supplies and other assorted paraphernalia.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Behind the cabinet doors, below the <span style="font-style: italic;">chat</span>, are full-sized Bosch washer and dryer; and there is a lovely large flat screen TV complemented by two DVD players for American and European dvds. Music is provided by an iPod with speaker system, or the iMac computer itself.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgknIIQZt3ZqLO2_zEnl4tSAyFzTIIKQdRwYgLqbY67Wk1ril9t9xRfW2wcy0By6nHM1FP-yEmTnlHdYHdUCau5tYDdvhQ-VHXhNa6A9s23HyePmdwEhTrd69l3lgPHYs37I1xGtPAWNLHi/s1600-h/main+salon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgknIIQZt3ZqLO2_zEnl4tSAyFzTIIKQdRwYgLqbY67Wk1ril9t9xRfW2wcy0By6nHM1FP-yEmTnlHdYHdUCau5tYDdvhQ-VHXhNa6A9s23HyePmdwEhTrd69l3lgPHYs37I1xGtPAWNLHi/s200/main+salon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105993008283587106" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Aft of the main<span style=""> </span>salon, and under the wheelhouse, is the engine room.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Behind that is the captain’s stateroom with queen-sized bed.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5H1iebYQEL5G8HUsyX_tunJ9uu3S3qVIYWy1aoKw0wEA5eEDJI3Pi9ReBIio6AhvieMUnHK-oIu5r0hd0j7iAz2Ig7MvwiC_JkBKFqKykRK1j9xqF6SSfvBdMVhDW_kmK-w-Jg73Axr6G/s1600-h/captains+cabin+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5H1iebYQEL5G8HUsyX_tunJ9uu3S3qVIYWy1aoKw0wEA5eEDJI3Pi9ReBIio6AhvieMUnHK-oIu5r0hd0j7iAz2Ig7MvwiC_JkBKFqKykRK1j9xqF6SSfvBdMVhDW_kmK-w-Jg73Axr6G/s200/captains+cabin+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105993390535676466" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(51, 204, 0);font-size:130%;" >Welcome aboard!</span><br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-48773270035136083072007-08-02T13:38:00.001+01:002008-12-09T05:57:59.092+00:00DijonWe spent last week tied up at the port in Dijon. Dijon is a great city – wonderful restaurants, a huge market on Friday and Saturday, lots of interesting shops, churches, and very convenient to the Burgundy wine country. Dave's friends, Bill and Kinou Ray, came to visit for the weekend. Bill steered us to a very interesting restaurant, sort of hidden in an alleyway (as several of the good restaurants are), on Friday night.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitqUR0IKP7z0YNetGUDfMqJwr9ZrrU94lj0QdmXCYZ_0aRcngb_x8JfjH6rzXvxfqPJRj0gLLI7hkx3AdZzbuSVWWFKAtWVkyEWlrSZuPUUlzhKxAiQSkTopHSEEj4BYBiVM6FZP-C-aXp/s1600-h/Hotel+Savage.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitqUR0IKP7z0YNetGUDfMqJwr9ZrrU94lj0QdmXCYZ_0aRcngb_x8JfjH6rzXvxfqPJRj0gLLI7hkx3AdZzbuSVWWFKAtWVkyEWlrSZuPUUlzhKxAiQSkTopHSEEj4BYBiVM6FZP-C-aXp/s200/Hotel+Savage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094119184355581522" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj18I1JkE4x5GlVyKB9lEOGeCHeDbEeq4eNqJzIc-Mvm22oskTb5xdsXaUFO6wkH4fj-Na2QUYQF0AdaL7Q__bBSGCdBBX5EBcY8VNs9wzNJZJ9Z-pBYMP17hRKNgHPoNObrxTrBD10v7kt/s1600-h/Hotel+Savage+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj18I1JkE4x5GlVyKB9lEOGeCHeDbEeq4eNqJzIc-Mvm22oskTb5xdsXaUFO6wkH4fj-Na2QUYQF0AdaL7Q__bBSGCdBBX5EBcY8VNs9wzNJZJ9Z-pBYMP17hRKNgHPoNObrxTrBD10v7kt/s200/Hotel+Savage+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094118875117936178" border="0" /></a><br />Saturday we all went to market and contributed to a "boat-cooked" feast on Saturday night.<br /><br />Here we all are in a restaurant in the square where we had lunch on Saturday after the market.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQyFNmZ2nK4eoqL9RXSPYYcm5WJcgsSWRRXCryZz2YM78YMq58Pbd2dYFO6-xQQGCdrgWP0lGaAr8vSIR8-fqgbeHC2ReRYIbCZXHqsmfjz7QoD5UMrX9JyK5p59qLcWWrkPSP7LBLhOgP/s1600-h/IMG_1812.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQyFNmZ2nK4eoqL9RXSPYYcm5WJcgsSWRRXCryZz2YM78YMq58Pbd2dYFO6-xQQGCdrgWP0lGaAr8vSIR8-fqgbeHC2ReRYIbCZXHqsmfjz7QoD5UMrX9JyK5p59qLcWWrkPSP7LBLhOgP/s200/IMG_1812.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094082861817158946" border="0" /></a><br />I think Dave is doing a duck imitation in his photo but one can never be sure:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1vYC3LOkQ1Q0crHKr5BwYsLOhk5PAFJHHOujLpgGEMfoaCygLLa0_nZfPsu_VPznRx-B2nY95TVZcEg-XSYe6AOAshQ1UK6IAcEhjPvvAc4LIi0f0uTxhT1w5Tn_bWXDvIVV5sKm5NrX/s1600-h/IMG_1813.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1vYC3LOkQ1Q0crHKr5BwYsLOhk5PAFJHHOujLpgGEMfoaCygLLa0_nZfPsu_VPznRx-B2nY95TVZcEg-XSYe6AOAshQ1UK6IAcEhjPvvAc4LIi0f0uTxhT1w5Tn_bWXDvIVV5sKm5NrX/s200/IMG_1813.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094083020730948914" border="0" /></a><br />Bill and Kinou left after Sunday brunch and the four of us set off to explore the wine country. We have driven miles and miles through all the domains you might recognize: Nuits-St. George, Pommard, Beaune, ... and have not stopped, even once, to taste the wine at a vineyard! I think that sets some sort of record.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEbnyZON5lhEjP2BC9xTcWfFUPIOpCPElVblkmQaObNFgGinhZMxUSb5nLoT8jC5DgjVE60C-EBl9aEDlX2mwrNotO2Wv3TIw4V8xOgx3c3og8z8sUWEKenEvDp9Txm8vVRevKM_TKqCpc/s1600-h/IMG_1821.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEbnyZON5lhEjP2BC9xTcWfFUPIOpCPElVblkmQaObNFgGinhZMxUSb5nLoT8jC5DgjVE60C-EBl9aEDlX2mwrNotO2Wv3TIw4V8xOgx3c3og8z8sUWEKenEvDp9Txm8vVRevKM_TKqCpc/s200/IMG_1821.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094083188234673474" border="0" /></a><br />If, however, you are interested in tasting wine at the very beginning of the process, you may wish to respond to the ad for grape pickers; it is apparently very hard work but you are rewarded with a meal at the end of the day. I think it would be a fun thing to do – to actually experience the wine from the moment the grape comes off the vine and begins its journey toward the bottle.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPRtqzK9aZzfYlwGBa6AeE_3tx0oYLDzJFBrlDWChVK9FGyRk6pWYY5yY2TTNi9CpZTkxRVp4_P486x_SGtjnvvk56v5i_ikXSHDxnh-8WV5gQPo_g93HiSssxY1KOI3ia06dmNMZ8syQ/s1600-h/Help+Wanted.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsPRtqzK9aZzfYlwGBa6AeE_3tx0oYLDzJFBrlDWChVK9FGyRk6pWYY5yY2TTNi9CpZTkxRVp4_P486x_SGtjnvvk56v5i_ikXSHDxnh-8WV5gQPo_g93HiSssxY1KOI3ia06dmNMZ8syQ/s200/Help+Wanted.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094118759153819170" border="0" /></a><br />We found an amazing overlook where we had a view of the vineyards, village and valley.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakoOcxyVL5mlocdUwku1qt8fjz2NJVBr6Fbbih7nK58ilsdchiNM58_3C551wBJksQNg3sZOp6XQAdAcfntUKCawH5vrr6qiFrByNaRbnwLdd3U9nMnEeG_DvnZ-GXxxZxxgnOvRNMrbE/s1600-h/IMG_1829.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakoOcxyVL5mlocdUwku1qt8fjz2NJVBr6Fbbih7nK58ilsdchiNM58_3C551wBJksQNg3sZOp6XQAdAcfntUKCawH5vrr6qiFrByNaRbnwLdd3U9nMnEeG_DvnZ-GXxxZxxgnOvRNMrbE/s200/IMG_1829.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094083557601860962" border="0" /></a><br />On Monday we went to Beaune where we had lunch and did a bit of shopping. Beaune is the center of the Burgundy wine area and the <a href="http://www.saraphina.com/moseyfr/091599/091599hoteldieu.htm">Hotel Dieu</a> which is famous for it's colorful glazed roof tiles and annual wine auction as well as its historical significance.<br /><br />After lunch we visited the Chateau de La Rochepot, which is a 13th century fortress that you enter via two drawbridges.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOMQOgzFaUxvdlww6ik1fiFEbTVFciikBWVX1RHHOpCzfUpNFV8JwW1AMZ3J-uS_YtTKQmKKHZxTH-mZIlwTIoyB3FlPZlKo-6JldGGdawtKGxtCCl8EEo6iyW3p2F5lZz6g9UEN8GIVVr/s1600-h/IMG_1836.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOMQOgzFaUxvdlww6ik1fiFEbTVFciikBWVX1RHHOpCzfUpNFV8JwW1AMZ3J-uS_YtTKQmKKHZxTH-mZIlwTIoyB3FlPZlKo-6JldGGdawtKGxtCCl8EEo6iyW3p2F5lZz6g9UEN8GIVVr/s200/IMG_1836.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094083780940160370" border="0" /></a><br />On Tuesday, we headed west and went to <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.vezelaytourisme.com">Vezelay.</a> Vezelay is known for its basilica, La Madeline, which was founded in 860 AD as a monastery, and houses relics of St. Mary Magdalen; it is home to the Monastic fraternities of Jerusalem and we were fortunate enough to be there during a service.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDM0-Z26aqbN9N9E2A1F88Y1D9WJC1Lg3_bS_lIAzdhpHSL_Lvk47vgdR6QOFFP3PQq5rMBqFQhzog2XYemOSCVUTmk-aWIm3cHLZ0yZk343KxNE7w1ADhtRaxFW4LXA6Vutw4hpOptUL4/s1600-h/IMG_1842.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDM0-Z26aqbN9N9E2A1F88Y1D9WJC1Lg3_bS_lIAzdhpHSL_Lvk47vgdR6QOFFP3PQq5rMBqFQhzog2XYemOSCVUTmk-aWIm3cHLZ0yZk343KxNE7w1ADhtRaxFW4LXA6Vutw4hpOptUL4/s200/IMG_1842.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094084068702969218" border="0" /></a><br />In 1979 UNESCO declared the site of Vezelay to be an official part of the World heritage. The village is truly amazing. It is charming as well, with delightful boutiques and a grand assortment of restaurants; we, experiencing French cuisine in all it's grandeur, all had pizza for lunch in a beautiful restaurant.<br /><br />Wednesday, John and Mona left for a couple of days in Paris before heading back to the States.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwxHtAC-cSFXNstHcNVv_W-grdOt__fs42z53dgGWa2bxlmiwXM20lCx7PkK1YaxrEqCSyZwrCJMvW0YtGde1qLBD8U1fRyzxHdSgnQumL1uNB699YDounRE01UXOmV9G65dPoXa9ELRT/s1600-h/IMG_1866.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwxHtAC-cSFXNstHcNVv_W-grdOt__fs42z53dgGWa2bxlmiwXM20lCx7PkK1YaxrEqCSyZwrCJMvW0YtGde1qLBD8U1fRyzxHdSgnQumL1uNB699YDounRE01UXOmV9G65dPoXa9ELRT/s200/IMG_1866.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094084236206693778" border="0" /></a><br />Dave and I spent the rest of the day, and Thursday, enjoying Dijon before leaving on Friday for the trip back to St. Jean. We found a charming restaurant on the market square on Thursday night where we had a fabulous dinner (salmon for Dave, and chicken with a mushroom champagne sauce for me) and bottle of wine.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgwIKbHw4MhdrZA9Cj1OAfoOjhjm-kQhplswgJbWYSuZEnyzVh_RzZi7yZ9BdFj9DK5F617RbzTOOrC3ptR9ZQ8vBPrksc2M3RSJSx2xWk8O8VhJRkEnG03cvOE3hcfS0Fs-uFQpPbXX2/s1600-h/IMG_1899.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgwIKbHw4MhdrZA9Cj1OAfoOjhjm-kQhplswgJbWYSuZEnyzVh_RzZi7yZ9BdFj9DK5F617RbzTOOrC3ptR9ZQ8vBPrksc2M3RSJSx2xWk8O8VhJRkEnG03cvOE3hcfS0Fs-uFQpPbXX2/s200/IMG_1899.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094087861159091666" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdPMQVweaqAGnaeQJVDLayxQOHJ9XA4W_xL9oA5rPfFWTZoDEb6SHjblhFRpq1RjscixKJ42CNYPA5YMpn-IyJq1cv17dMWtS3-iS4-CZZg7Gzv5TsVI57gQgV_e5Gp5bs25472k4SI9KD/s1600-h/Dave+Dinner.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdPMQVweaqAGnaeQJVDLayxQOHJ9XA4W_xL9oA5rPfFWTZoDEb6SHjblhFRpq1RjscixKJ42CNYPA5YMpn-IyJq1cv17dMWtS3-iS4-CZZg7Gzv5TsVI57gQgV_e5Gp5bs25472k4SI9KD/s200/Dave+Dinner.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094118656074604050" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4zfj935woGfGg7UZRvLTWtAvgJJ9K73RLxv3O87it6OpDFUD32eCHVsSGyY8LD5dpArj9jU_GrbZF426UzgKWgK9f2N-12MVxPbEoopyJJwUH7bo8NncgYJMArRHu9yrBT-X0e1DvFtGf/s1600-h/IMG_1905.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4zfj935woGfGg7UZRvLTWtAvgJJ9K73RLxv3O87it6OpDFUD32eCHVsSGyY8LD5dpArj9jU_GrbZF426UzgKWgK9f2N-12MVxPbEoopyJJwUH7bo8NncgYJMArRHu9yrBT-X0e1DvFtGf/s200/IMG_1905.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094088118857129458" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Armed with bottles of <a href="http://www.bonniechurchill.com/maille.htm">Dijon mustard</a> (a la Canada) for my son, we headed back to home port.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-90092737862796119572007-08-02T11:28:00.000+01:002008-12-09T05:58:00.831+00:00Canal de Bourgogne<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrc8AQuM8U-Kg_Oy0dSGUhiLoWnvct_SLDxynumhxut4G-huVyXZLPWg5CY_1D18aqmGNkPoj-Lt6K2xLQ6kMaJgFk42EVDB-U6nq10WcT7AUp0KeLORP_xOMRFwZ-9A67GaH_rYL847qY/s1600-h/ME+in+Lock.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrc8AQuM8U-Kg_Oy0dSGUhiLoWnvct_SLDxynumhxut4G-huVyXZLPWg5CY_1D18aqmGNkPoj-Lt6K2xLQ6kMaJgFk42EVDB-U6nq10WcT7AUp0KeLORP_xOMRFwZ-9A67GaH_rYL847qY/s200/ME+in+Lock.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094125510842408546" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic3lo9Q1Ox3hF1OUBM3tfycqZHyFJo5ek-bEZ3nXxXMZgu95O6UFUm1W-uT4dYJ3hhvrTP5FgvyDBePn3v9_Yi-DyhotjH4VGmsyV9ynPUuAcEVmj6j91uR0R0rROGBKc5rjYblD-obTRO/s1600-h/IMG_1770.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic3lo9Q1Ox3hF1OUBM3tfycqZHyFJo5ek-bEZ3nXxXMZgu95O6UFUm1W-uT4dYJ3hhvrTP5FgvyDBePn3v9_Yi-DyhotjH4VGmsyV9ynPUuAcEVmj6j91uR0R0rROGBKc5rjYblD-obTRO/s200/IMG_1770.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094053522895559810" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAdacxY4qnh2UqMJpeOtxa0CGa83MJmDVsISQMz3LaESY5JTiBX0apdYuoLKC7S-mjjd7uEHXpJ7pBscMKFPI-QFxzNhTWZeJp6s0E6mZ2HwVtZJvc5_kPc7aJUuw7En7IeaRpBxpvUcRC/s1600-h/IMG_1773.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAdacxY4qnh2UqMJpeOtxa0CGa83MJmDVsISQMz3LaESY5JTiBX0apdYuoLKC7S-mjjd7uEHXpJ7pBscMKFPI-QFxzNhTWZeJp6s0E6mZ2HwVtZJvc5_kPc7aJUuw7En7IeaRpBxpvUcRC/s200/IMG_1773.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094053741938891922" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After our trip to Dole, we came back to St. Jean de Losne to restock and ready ourselves and the ship for a trip up the Canal de Bourgogne to Dijon. This canal is very straight and quite pretty until it becomes somewhat industrial just outside of Dijon. The trip is 30km and 21 locks, and takes us about a day and a half to travel. On the way to Dijon, all the locks go up; although it is a bit more difficult to snag the bollard with the rope when it is several meters above my head, the up locks are my favorite. Every time it is like entering a whole new world because you just never know what you are going to see when you get to the top. (photos 2 & 3 are going up in the lock, and at the top.)<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRS_y8E7oKZ-zo-RSPvdo5994ZR10VyvGuZBPFRtOz6BzQfv7uYGW86epafkOQW9QqQP_jQ0qDjxBdeFXJJVaQvvgUjbcYhoUC6tpBJFdt1WbXRt8gDhh7GqxV0dm6cGGCZ0UoEXIHTDyl/s1600-h/IMG_1767.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRS_y8E7oKZ-zo-RSPvdo5994ZR10VyvGuZBPFRtOz6BzQfv7uYGW86epafkOQW9QqQP_jQ0qDjxBdeFXJJVaQvvgUjbcYhoUC6tpBJFdt1WbXRt8gDhh7GqxV0dm6cGGCZ0UoEXIHTDyl/s200/IMG_1767.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094057027588873378" border="0" /></a><br />Some of the lock houses are absolutely charming; some of the lock keepers sell things such as honey, ice cream, wine, rabbits. This one has little wooden statues of seafarers, sea gulls and other nautical bric-a-brac on the window sills. Most of the lock houses are occupied but some are abandoned.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUiUtTsOaGvG8-4RyRYKw2nbrchyi-ZMcwI_Js0YXqQfZJiE8y9nlosbWWPt6dgnXzfdbUQDRIk020NlCH2ZcWDDAfgf6Dqe768SXf6adD8nSdF5mcok5kqlOEutfdMUAZ_PaoLvjQsFWL/s1600-h/IMG_1924.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUiUtTsOaGvG8-4RyRYKw2nbrchyi-ZMcwI_Js0YXqQfZJiE8y9nlosbWWPt6dgnXzfdbUQDRIk020NlCH2ZcWDDAfgf6Dqe768SXf6adD8nSdF5mcok5kqlOEutfdMUAZ_PaoLvjQsFWL/s200/IMG_1924.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094057929532005554" border="0" /></a><br />Traveling on the canal, we pass fields and fields of cows, wheat, potatoes, and the wonderful massive fields of sunflowers.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFsMV4_OlQ7e7SXztFpWMDLHXSaEFCkz3DzcF_I9UGtNs-D9Lms0O8Y05-bejPyaYhd4i0W5nfSTKmSQw6XbERL2LC5-hPiCfVLKne_nhbEAJUOav6oPFtdOb3jxMkTKELB96c8Cs5JCQk/s1600-h/IMG_1784.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFsMV4_OlQ7e7SXztFpWMDLHXSaEFCkz3DzcF_I9UGtNs-D9Lms0O8Y05-bejPyaYhd4i0W5nfSTKmSQw6XbERL2LC5-hPiCfVLKne_nhbEAJUOav6oPFtdOb3jxMkTKELB96c8Cs5JCQk/s200/IMG_1784.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094058341848865986" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvK95QYHwb-Yoo0Z1kMSwrfA3opg2OUoacRA-9kdjRalJNNQjsuBsKM-rP7nT2qoG8eMEAzBC8RUS1MSmkL0D5qLAiGujm95TaS4fBK5GaIB3c_Hmb4pAIs2tLNp7qRo0HND7B3nMYjF_m/s1600-h/IMG_1786.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvK95QYHwb-Yoo0Z1kMSwrfA3opg2OUoacRA-9kdjRalJNNQjsuBsKM-rP7nT2qoG8eMEAzBC8RUS1MSmkL0D5qLAiGujm95TaS4fBK5GaIB3c_Hmb4pAIs2tLNp7qRo0HND7B3nMYjF_m/s200/IMG_1786.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094058590956969170" border="0" /></a><br />Both on our way to, and our way back, from Dijon we tied up near the little village of Longecourt. There is an amazing chateau there that was built as a fortress in the 12th century and turned into a manor house in the 17th century. It is incredibly beautiful and romantic with a moat and fields surrounding it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfb4XI4Zjmp_pgaSrsu5XG4bqb51Nxg9-CA_OGX3YpLaPNrfCvR9gCS20U5zB7DOJbQGFG1HJoD0XHYZwuzitiVrl3bSBLKTThujplpAAyNM_gJCwKo0JVA_ilfTUUeIMoh7D5wa1_OMH-/s1600-h/IMG_1935.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfb4XI4Zjmp_pgaSrsu5XG4bqb51Nxg9-CA_OGX3YpLaPNrfCvR9gCS20U5zB7DOJbQGFG1HJoD0XHYZwuzitiVrl3bSBLKTThujplpAAyNM_gJCwKo0JVA_ilfTUUeIMoh7D5wa1_OMH-/s200/IMG_1935.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094058925964418274" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG_Ej_7lj1KMus32dmUoPvtYwiI8QG_2tOo5ZMB9WcRfbkPbzP8ad8L-uHLDQCngasoyOOkPLJ_Fep5Hf_Z7ZaffgQ-6URqUG4NeI8-1HTEakkHswq5yVAZSYKgN-W1aMvUrwixJAZnJ4C/s1600-h/IMG_1942.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG_Ej_7lj1KMus32dmUoPvtYwiI8QG_2tOo5ZMB9WcRfbkPbzP8ad8L-uHLDQCngasoyOOkPLJ_Fep5Hf_Z7ZaffgQ-6URqUG4NeI8-1HTEakkHswq5yVAZSYKgN-W1aMvUrwixJAZnJ4C/s200/IMG_1942.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094059269561801970" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBR-U7LBt0ZB4bwr_bAJICFNTAAOPYZgffUvXD8HXQcvwcBJHC3hbzkYXMcqRIyqCJFM5kuaRdWJB84eOofMgE2Dv-fezgTgvpwRBEgOvt4Y2GG6Dk2S-cjpxRexeZ44zKdtWI1RW7mLIW/s1600-h/IMG_1945.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBR-U7LBt0ZB4bwr_bAJICFNTAAOPYZgffUvXD8HXQcvwcBJHC3hbzkYXMcqRIyqCJFM5kuaRdWJB84eOofMgE2Dv-fezgTgvpwRBEgOvt4Y2GG6Dk2S-cjpxRexeZ44zKdtWI1RW7mLIW/s200/IMG_1945.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094059540144741634" border="0" /></a><br />Tying the ship (we were informed that a vessel of this size cannot, must not, be referred to as simply a boat, that the Shenandoah is a ship) up alongside the canal for the night is a very peaceful and comfortable place to be.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDnWVA4CBdjAQIgpw_d4eGYA8pq8rZ5E9iAp_kr2KMyeBJKLnyIFhFniQbF3MgaQ_wWGouoW9QkVBy3DuOguTcKdScs0x3RN5ynt1McMfpIzIpAsNjpRGUr2x14jvzbSsKCbq-wyRmI_VJ/s1600-h/Dusk+on+the+bourgogne.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDnWVA4CBdjAQIgpw_d4eGYA8pq8rZ5E9iAp_kr2KMyeBJKLnyIFhFniQbF3MgaQ_wWGouoW9QkVBy3DuOguTcKdScs0x3RN5ynt1McMfpIzIpAsNjpRGUr2x14jvzbSsKCbq-wyRmI_VJ/s200/Dusk+on+the+bourgogne.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094125699820969586" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-82481450241132382902007-07-17T17:36:00.000+01:002008-12-09T05:58:01.535+00:00Maybe you had to be there...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWzh4m0-qo1eHdgxRo6FPLwB-4Bu5DS-cQ7rrk9U1Fbe7udfBIRrLRLvSk1Bz4ei6rafLshpTf-S4TMnn8TRJaHwCT-0ltSKMD2nYz54pDTwPzByk5DK5s7Y5HVP_iOe3WFu1tgt9Qjg6Z/s1600-h/IMG_1710.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWzh4m0-qo1eHdgxRo6FPLwB-4Bu5DS-cQ7rrk9U1Fbe7udfBIRrLRLvSk1Bz4ei6rafLshpTf-S4TMnn8TRJaHwCT-0ltSKMD2nYz54pDTwPzByk5DK5s7Y5HVP_iOe3WFu1tgt9Qjg6Z/s200/IMG_1710.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088206043992565586" border="0" /></a><br />You know how these stories are – the ones that end with “Well, I guess you had to be there” - we were there but we still don't know the story. It all began on Sunday morning in Dole when I got the bright idea that we should take a walking tour of the “secrets hidden behind the walls of Dole.” After all, we hadn't visited the home of Louis Pasteur, so we should soak up some history somehow, don't you think?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhifw4BxfPo7wZcJeH3YsrVdSphy4mus0GtH-DjmnEuprvS94FMY8PGOZszjde7UU_UQQiAxipUmKZ11wDErbLK93RoLgVLXSTlpXZEAWfHs4r6Vy_aAtYv14COfsrwf200YXnQpfOxYyE8/s1600-h/IMG_1707.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhifw4BxfPo7wZcJeH3YsrVdSphy4mus0GtH-DjmnEuprvS94FMY8PGOZszjde7UU_UQQiAxipUmKZ11wDErbLK93RoLgVLXSTlpXZEAWfHs4r6Vy_aAtYv14COfsrwf200YXnQpfOxYyE8/s200/IMG_1707.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088206224381192034" border="0" /></a><br />Caroline and David, an Australian couple on the boat tied up ahead of us (photo l to r: Captain Dave, Caroline, David, Mona, John), decided to accompany us on the tour. At 3:30 we – Dave and I, the Aussie couple, and our guests, John and Mona, all trudged uphill toward the meeting place for the 4:00 tour. When we arrived there was quite a group already waiting.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY38xpAX4-vDOYj3GYugTM2O_7361HW_kT5hS-vA-ORB7gIvs0sNXZ10uBxNRqz-wp9XHuBmnFOqj10j2UzMa75UduozUe975XRskAxlvMFZBWGCHH9XMymZlov42pvk4ve0avxXRQ0Pje/s1600-h/Salmon+Rest.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY38xpAX4-vDOYj3GYugTM2O_7361HW_kT5hS-vA-ORB7gIvs0sNXZ10uBxNRqz-wp9XHuBmnFOqj10j2UzMa75UduozUe975XRskAxlvMFZBWGCHH9XMymZlov42pvk4ve0avxXRQ0Pje/s200/Salmon+Rest.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088210222995744706" border="0" /></a><br />By the time the tour guide arrived at 4:15, the group numbered about twenty-five. We each paid our 5.50E and followed our French (only) speaking guide.<br /><br />Our first stop was into the grounds of Pasteur 's atelier (workshop) – aha – we were going to get a look into Louis' life after all! And we did – we walked right past the door to his workshop – we know that is what it had been because there was a sign on the door. Apparently at one time the complex had been a monastery, and a school – or maybe it is a school now.<br /><br />The tour guide was an attractive young French woman who spoke so fast that if she had been a train we would have missed her. Are you getting the picture? We weren't.<br /><br />We were herded into a section of the building with a stairway that had been enclosed behind a glass wall, there was an ornate metal railing alongside the stairs – there was apparently something very important about the stairs, or the railing. John, having the ability to hear beyond the bounds of language, sorted it all out for us – Pasteur invented the railing! He did this so people would not fall off the staircase; John said this saved many lives! So delighted with this tidbit of insight into the mind of the great Frenchman, David and Caroline, exhausted by the sheer delight of discovery, left to go ponder the process of pasteurization at the nearest bar.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHhWdbtE_j1TsWyZ-ptuk9FxpQ0J2zI8FdryKZqlNpm7_8dHSsWPHenCy6IoONjg9Vn-34qhhiCaO4ETqkTTBjBAxsF5yR2JUJXhyphenhyphenUSmM7GKhvBls5eMdaS0pJTf-Vo6fmu5NfPQdAZf0j/s1600-h/Woman+with+hat.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHhWdbtE_j1TsWyZ-ptuk9FxpQ0J2zI8FdryKZqlNpm7_8dHSsWPHenCy6IoONjg9Vn-34qhhiCaO4ETqkTTBjBAxsF5yR2JUJXhyphenhyphenUSmM7GKhvBls5eMdaS0pJTf-Vo6fmu5NfPQdAZf0j/s200/Woman+with+hat.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088210137096398770" border="0" /></a><br />The rest of us, however, persevered and followed the guide through someone's foyer and into a former convent garden. Entranced by a chicken wire statue of a woman with a hat, and an old cat balancing on an ancient wall, and feeling satiated enough with the “secret history” of Dole, we left the tour to attempt to understand the merits of a good Belgian beer. About an hour later, the tour caught up with us as we sat outside the Coco Bango Bar, a local hotspot. The envious look cast our way by the now hoarse tour guide spoke volumes... Sometimes it just doesn't pay to speak the language.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ZgiiuKFwezZ7g9bkm5VQx5UWy8DiKsknbkK9E1QH8a9ZVgSVVqkrlGlUgjTpD_drBgCxj58t9UjsOvkWoP3nADbDOcig0frN4r1HnH6rFmAxSMZcf3ZZz_oT2PAtdk8qxzgQCmA0VJTS/s1600-h/Beer.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3ZgiiuKFwezZ7g9bkm5VQx5UWy8DiKsknbkK9E1QH8a9ZVgSVVqkrlGlUgjTpD_drBgCxj58t9UjsOvkWoP3nADbDOcig0frN4r1HnH6rFmAxSMZcf3ZZz_oT2PAtdk8qxzgQCmA0VJTS/s200/Beer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088209999657445282" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-12503751238500375722007-07-17T14:30:00.001+01:002008-12-09T05:58:02.123+00:00Snail's Pace<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HPyNeV4U8dAYFnW0Dxp4DDzmJXjSx8FXLBcuFLEMrF9pL0nf4kK9FqpYwhWmh339K06QoeFVDXsPUI2_Ub2tobit-I8l1a_1Qz-GYmjOm5UUWkdkN6dyNJXTPPMDqKkR0EN_eC6p724d/s1600-h/IMG_1611.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HPyNeV4U8dAYFnW0Dxp4DDzmJXjSx8FXLBcuFLEMrF9pL0nf4kK9FqpYwhWmh339K06QoeFVDXsPUI2_Ub2tobit-I8l1a_1Qz-GYmjOm5UUWkdkN6dyNJXTPPMDqKkR0EN_eC6p724d/s200/IMG_1611.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094133340567789218" border="0" /></a><br />Life on the water is supposed to be slower, calmer and more relaxed. Unlike last summer, it has been uneventful so far this year.<br /><br />Two weeks ago we ventured down the Saone River to Chalons-sur-Saone with stops at Seurre and Gergy.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwL6AS5sV0_LCNLMyiTHlShK9iruXxlAoISYy_KMTpxqrdO58KimKECVU3nhv44Kg67OG8A5yYQ2Zh58pn6u5XyTVqeCg7lPWRH6cJiuHBYhxmAnwMI42Z1YNy7lU4cONTCxpyA_oaLAsv/s1600-h/IMG_1591.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></a>We sat on the terrace of a cafe and watched the above escargot try to find his way into the kitchen; we fed swans, we saw some interesting houses from the river, and as always, met some interesting people along the way.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXRtCgr_z2HFFqnQekd4-wDiGV3BRGXB8jdHe2XmMX3Sc0HNAhUpGZPjR7BCAwQ2owVm_mpZOuA88k6t4ScrDXd1S-bQ7K3Mmrw8SyWS0wVikxr174XuoH0U04H8Vkgb1YAZCfSrScw7O8/s1600-h/IMG_1489.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXRtCgr_z2HFFqnQekd4-wDiGV3BRGXB8jdHe2XmMX3Sc0HNAhUpGZPjR7BCAwQ2owVm_mpZOuA88k6t4ScrDXd1S-bQ7K3Mmrw8SyWS0wVikxr174XuoH0U04H8Vkgb1YAZCfSrScw7O8/s200/IMG_1489.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094134079302164162" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ca1-AXx1XHpjRk2SBopXqlxwqFtAFJqKxJwDTSKEINr0DMhvqpv3-9A_ACSE_FULvuGnSsYN7Wm1PWkQm9pe2IFP6NJhH6raghFr4Tjsq712-XrgJWhIHcqovx4pHUXnK2G37ECseGn2/s1600-h/IMG_1638.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ca1-AXx1XHpjRk2SBopXqlxwqFtAFJqKxJwDTSKEINr0DMhvqpv3-9A_ACSE_FULvuGnSsYN7Wm1PWkQm9pe2IFP6NJhH6raghFr4Tjsq712-XrgJWhIHcqovx4pHUXnK2G37ECseGn2/s200/IMG_1638.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094134216741117650" border="0" /></a><br />When we got back to home base we wandered into the neighborhood bar and had a bottle, or few, of wine. Pictured are, from left to right: Captain Bruce, Captain Dave, Jean-Michelle the owner of the bar, the Mank and the Yank.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcT4vtBBrmLcqKFaDweWN65SF6z6WsaiyDtvEoI9mARes-MhOdu7Kn-HIMzdJ9R8RSK5Oi0WcSFkpHjUVytPHLRZ_eiYjb6T7AEUrFkAl0ZyG-dNJspuBs5nFksSrewVimrD13EmneYBT3/s1600-h/IMG_1653.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcT4vtBBrmLcqKFaDweWN65SF6z6WsaiyDtvEoI9mARes-MhOdu7Kn-HIMzdJ9R8RSK5Oi0WcSFkpHjUVytPHLRZ_eiYjb6T7AEUrFkAl0ZyG-dNJspuBs5nFksSrewVimrD13EmneYBT3/s200/IMG_1653.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094145452375564002" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-70590311268037495162007-06-22T08:39:00.000+01:002008-12-09T05:58:02.290+00:00Oh la la language…<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw217nSBt3KioWEvy65Fgn1KHG7OYh4wQlVSMXg9NoE7Nq7ydIMQr3-l8RILL84HhKxGcMLGPPcamxj2tn4G12gX1q5e_QohwKiP8wkTGhtks4Dd3mCUROh147P1o1UzS8Tt2sIU1L9qs3/s1600-h/canal.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw217nSBt3KioWEvy65Fgn1KHG7OYh4wQlVSMXg9NoE7Nq7ydIMQr3-l8RILL84HhKxGcMLGPPcamxj2tn4G12gX1q5e_QohwKiP8wkTGhtks4Dd3mCUROh147P1o1UzS8Tt2sIU1L9qs3/s200/canal.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078795707266126322" /></a><br /><br />Here we are in France, where it is the custom to greet everyone you see. Passing someone on the street means that you look at them, acknowledge them and speak to them. It is the norm to “<span style="font-style:italic;">dit bonjour</span>,” however this can be somewhat awkward as in this town you are more likely to be speaking French to someone who doesn't. As you may be able to see in the photo, there are boats from everywhere here – New Zealand, Australia, England, Switzerland, Holland, Belgium, Germany, the USA, etc., etc. <br /><br />Just the other evening we were having a glass of wine with a couple and he was telling a story about how he was washing his boat and the water sprayed into a hatch and hit his computer. His computer screen went blank and he was certain he had destroyed the computer so, he said, he took a "torch to the monitor." <br /><br />Well, I know computers can be frustrating but that did seem a tad extreme to me. A few minutes further into the conversation I realized that, to an Australian, a torch is a flashlight. Thank goodness the computer was saved and the monitor just had to be read by flashlight.<br /><br />Last evening, someone who lives on a boat further down the canal, swam over to our boat – I guess it was the only way he thought he could get an invitation aboard – up and over the stern. His girlfriend was in pursuit by land, found him and joined him in a glass of wine with us. He refers to them as a “Mank and a Yank” – I’ll let you figure that one out on your own as I’m still trying to make sense of it; sounds like exotic cat breeds to me.<br /><br />The language thing does get a bit tricky and some days are easier than others. This hit me full force the day after I arrived in Paris this time and Dave and I were at the train station on our way to Dijon. Dave had gone to get our tickets and I was guarding the luggage when a man come up to me with his hand out and asked (in French of course) for money. There are about a zillion of these folks in and around the train stations and this one was relatively well dressed and was wearing a decent watch so I wasn’t of a mind to give him any money. I simply said to him that I didn’t speak French. He gave me a curious look and continued his plea, so I said, again, that I didn’t speak French and added that I didn’t understand him, just for good measure. About two minutes after he walked away I burst out laughing because I realized that I had been speaking to him in French!<br /><br />It is very easy when you are in a foreign country, and equally rude, to say “I don’t speak the language.” The French do not look favorably upon this attitude. They would prefer that you give it a try. They may not understand you. They may pretend to not understand you and they may speak perfectly good English but wouldn’t give you the slightest hint that they could converse easily with you. They think if you are in their country you should speak to them in their language. If this were true in the US we would be able to navigate the Miami, FL airport as English speaking Americans – we wouldn’t have to have a course in Spanish simply to get from one terminal to another but that is another matter. <br /><br />Attitude is what the French have in abundance, and it is a strange and wonderful phenomena. We asked Jean-Luc the other evening why the church bells ring at 7:05 in the evening rather than at 7:00; his reply was that it is too busy at 7:00. <br /><br />Need I say more? Well of course – but on another day.<br /><br />A beintot!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7153003061312209510.post-39415649322576929812007-06-07T06:03:00.000+01:002008-12-09T05:58:02.444+00:00Grey Poupon, of Course!I was walking around the basin the other day, surveying my domain, and stopped at the lock (<span style="font-style:italic;">ecluse</span>) where barges enter the Canal du Bourgogne from the Saone River. <br /><br />A large commercial peniche was entering the lock and two more were waiting to get through and head north on the canal. As there is rarely any commercial traffic through here, I asked what was the occasion. The lock keeper (<span style="font-style:italic;">eclusier</span> - see how easy this French is) said the barges were heading for Dijon carrying mustard seed from Canada.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1QaqnRBU-QOek2AcuXrH3_9gONyX8Vj67yoCYom3tzlP-vzRGtxajzEwuyySmFrWLOPclFbhB4n5id_SKUKmJorZyKzn3046ADtsTcAufLQ0SMV6YoclLEP_OL9ta-_vQH_6w_tDvkoi0/s1600-h/mustard.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1QaqnRBU-QOek2AcuXrH3_9gONyX8Vj67yoCYom3tzlP-vzRGtxajzEwuyySmFrWLOPclFbhB4n5id_SKUKmJorZyKzn3046ADtsTcAufLQ0SMV6YoclLEP_OL9ta-_vQH_6w_tDvkoi0/s200/mustard.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073184066205929842" /></a><br /><br />I guess there is nothing sacred in this world anymore. France importing mustard seed to produce the famous Dijon mustards while the seeds are Canadian grown seems a bit, shall we say, hypocritical. French grape vines imported from America, french fries that aren't even French, and now mustard made in France but with foreign seed. What is a person to believe? The Canadians now have a feather to add to their bonnet besides the RIM BlackBerry.<br /><br />It seems that the reason Dijon mustard became so famous was not because of the mustard seed grown locally (although the local soil did produce good mustard seed), but the availability of grape juice from the vineyards of Burgundy. Dijon mustard gets its smooth taste because the ground seeds are mixed with grape juice, wine and wine vinegar! Mr. Grey, of the Poupon Grey's, invented a way to process the seeds and was instrumental in putting Dijon on the mustard map of the world. But, Dijon-style mustard can be made anywhere, by anyone, with a handful of mustard seed and some grape squeezings. <br /><br />So, the next time you are tooling down the freeway and a Rolls Royce pulls up next to you with a guy offering you a jar of Grey Poupon, smile knowingly and pull out your jar of French's mustard, because it's made in -- you guessed it -- Rochester, NY by a British owned company!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com