Get away

The suitcases have been put away.  The postcards we bought for ourselves adorn the fridge.  Our walking sticks, picked up in the forests, are still waiting in a corner of our foyer, a little reminder of where we were. 

Last month we were lucky enough to get away for two weeks to the mountains, in Savoie in the Alps.  I say lucky because in a year when covid has smashed everyone's travel plans or made some reluctant to travel at all, we do feel fortunate to have had a real vacation. It wasn't the one we planned last spring when we had hoped to go to the US. But there was that pesky virus...

So we set out by car to the mountains.  The road trip sensation crept in quickly as we picnicked on our fleece blanket at a rest area. The kids watched a dvd in the backseat.  Alex kept taking off his arm straps on his car seat forcing us to stop the car and speak sternly to him. And then the kids squabbled, or rather my tween got annoyed with her toddler bro. And that too is part of road trips.

I found it hard the first few days  to cut myself off from work and I'm not sure I ever truly did. But I made an effort not to check the emails I was on copy on immediately or not at all if they didn't seem urgent. I realized once again that I have a hard time focusing on the moment and not letting worries about the next thing bother me.  I feel anxious about bus schedules, meeting times with the airbnb owner and finding our way and those are things it's hard to shed even on holiday. 

Despite that, just the fact of being elsewhere is important to me. Every since I was a young teen, I have appreciated the feeling of changing place, seeing the world from a different perspective.  When we would hit the road to go to Texas to visit my grandma and aunt, sometimes I would keep a travel journal. I would look at the wooden-paneled houses we drove past on a sunny day and imagine what the inhabitants were doing.  Their lives seemed happier, sunnier, just because I was on vacation. 

Even visiting a gas station in a new city and checking out the different sodas and candy bars can be fun.  In French they have a good word for it: dépaysant.  But it is hard to translate accurately: exotic, disorienting, don't seem right. The best translation I have seen is the idea of a change of scenery. It's amazing to me to see how, each time, a change of place can generate a change in your mind.

So in this year of limited travel, a change of scene was sorely needed. When I wasn't worrying about this that or the other, I truly enjoyed the landscapes and prairies of wildflowers.  We walked more than we usually do so and doing that with a toddler in a backpack carrier or pushing him uphill or down steep paths in a stroller was rather physical (the husband helped on this, too, of course).  So I may have had a nice mental break but physically I felt tired after this trip and am still catching up on sleep!

And as the wanderlust never truly leaves me, I am already thinking of daytrips and bigger trips in our future!  If 2020 has taught us one thing it's that our health is so valuable and we never know what life has in store for us.  So travel when and if you can and no matter what try and enjoy each day!

Travelog

I am officially half-way through my vacation. I have also gone more than half-way across the US this time around.  Just so happens we had planned a great American tour and we have clocked some miles and enjoyed every minute of it.

Here are a few of the highlights and quirky moments so far!

Zika is makin' me freak-a
Before we landed in Miami there was an announcement aboard the plane reminding us we were entering a potentially Zika-infected area.  As in the mosquito-borne virus that can be dangerous to fetuses.  Yikes! I had forgotten about Zika.  My aunt had bought me natural-based bug spray, but reading online they said the stronger stuff containing Deet was ok for pregnant women (and also recommended for their spouses).  Luckily it appears there are no new active cases this year, but we are still trying to be careful with the bites.

Touchdown in Miami
Sorry to disappoint but we didn't spend more than about 30 minutes in the hotspot that is Miami.  Our true destination while in Florida was my aunt's city of West Palm Beach.  This, as its name indicates, is the city west of Palm Beach Island, where, incidentally, POTUS has his mansion.  There were certainly enough palm trees to turn my plant-loving husband's head.  We dipped our toes in the Atlantic and ate outside in a restaurant that had ceiling fans galore and a fountain with real turtles.

Thanks, Will Smith, for making this stick in my head.

When sandals lose their soles
My well-worn sandals decided to breathe their last breath after that famous trip to the Atlantic. Seems fitting they wanted to see Florida one more time before giving out on me.  As my friend Caro said, good excuse to go shopping.

Florida melting pot
We met so many interesting people in our brief time in Florida.  From a Southern lady who wanted to pray with us on the beach, to a Jamaican-born grandma taking the train back to Miami and the folks hanging out in the pool speaking Spanish and English with each other depending on their mood.  I enjoy hearing and seeing the mix of cultures down there.

From below sea level to the mile-high city and beyond
We left the hot and humid streets of Florida for the cooler mountain air of Colorado where my dad lives.  From the first view of the Rockies in Denver, it was a total change of scenery.  We climbed even higher to 8,000 feet or so in my dad's town.  Luckily we didn't get too out of sorts with the change in altitude except for some occasional dizziness for Remi.

At over 12,000 feet at the Continental Divide

Animals everywhere
To keep Juliette's attention it takes more than mountains (though she likes nature, too).  She got to feed chipmunks from her hand in a ghost town, saw cotton-tail bunnies and deer.  Not to mention the occasional dog to pet.  Have animals, will travel.

Family chill time
Got to hang out with my dad, aunt and sister in Colorado.  Yes, we were sometimes all plugged into our devices in the evening, but we also had homemade biscuits from my aunt, impromptu dance-outs from Jess and Juliette, and charades and guessing games with my sister's fun Heads Up app.  I feel like we made some great memories!

Southern comfort
Now we are back in Alabama in the home I lived in from my early teens.  Is it my imagination or did my southern accent magically come back as I strolled the streets of Auburn?  Why did I find the need to buy big cheap pearl earring studs like sorority girls wear with their themed t-shirts?  Why must I fight down the urge to buy Auburn onesies?

Auburn colors anyone?

I am sure we will fill the rest of our time with fun outings and meals and just hanging out.  That is what vacations are for, after all!  And even sweeter when you are back home.

A pic is worth a hundred words

In a world where everyone and their six-year old can take a crystal clear photo with a smartphone, maybe a picture isn't as valuable as it used to be.  Here are a few of the ramblings in my head on the "shoot and post" age of photography. 

Too many posts spoil the shot
I am as snap happy as the next person.  I've posted pics of meals on Facebook (and I'm so resisting the urge to post one of my recent Asian meal in Belgium).  And two-legged carrots. But with the ease of digital cameras and smart phones to almost instantly capture the moment and share it with the world via FB or Instagram, does it cheapen the experience after a while?  I find myself appreciating photos less than before and not only because everyone can master the technical difficulty now with autofocus.  It's more a question of the over-exposure (no pun intended). 

When everyone puts their vacation pics online, we just scroll through quickly, maybe "like" or comment and move on.  We are less amazed and awed by photos.  We just expect them, consume them and continue.  I don't know about you, but now I find myself pausing more on FB for actual text status updates.  The content grabs my attention more than the easily-shared photo.  That said, I still share silly photos and expect a certain number of "likes." (More on that addiction another time.)

When people put the craze in the selfie craze

One of the few shots free of selfie-takers!

We recently went to the amazing zoo and gardens of Para Daiza in Belgium.  When we were in the treetop observatory for the giraffes, there was one lovely animal who came close to the wooden rail when a young teen gave her some leaves to eat.  And then it was a feeding frenzy of another type that ensued.  A gaggle of girls started turning their smartphones around to take selfies with the giraffe.  It was quite a sight to see five or six 13-year olds flashing their braces-clad grins and posing with the unassuming giraffe.  It was nearly impossible for the rest of us to get a classic shot without including their long, straightened hair.  I suppose the giraffe is used to it by now.  But I wonder if the girls even took the time to appreciate the giraffe or were more thrilled by getting selfies with an animal.  The zoo has apparently realized the danger of too many selfies because they put up this sign about no selfie sticks.  That could scare the animals and be even more annoying for fellow visitors. 

Classic amateur photograpers.

Good thing I left my drone at home.

Be here now
We've all seen the busloads of Japanese tourists clicking away at monuments before they are whisked on to their next destination.  Or that father of three at Sea World with his state-of-the-art video camera or tablet permanently glued to his hand.  But what if we were no better?  When we view the world almost exclusively through a lens, do we really see it?  Sometimes I find myself taking pics and truly looking at them or enjoying them later.  Take the shot, savor the moment after. 

It's as if I don't trust my memories anymore and rely soley on my camera to retrace my trip.  Have you ever noticed your eye can pick up so many more details than the lens of your smartphone anyway?  Unless you have a truly sophisticated camera (and the iPhone ones do come close) you are missing some of the definition and lighting that only the human eye can really capture.

Everything in moderation, including pictures
I am certainly not anti-photography and consider myself a bit of an amateur photographer.  I will still take pics and so will you.  But maybe I should think before I shoot.  And appreciate while I shoot.  Photography is still an art, and one that is more and more accessible to us all.  But, please, less silly selfies!

I'll leave you with one pic that might actually be worth more than a hundred words.  My baby doll absolutely pooped after our zoo trip. 

A Vacation State of Mind

I put the start of a sentence on Facebook (yeah, I know, I am still battling that addiction) and asked friends to complete it:

"August is..."

Most people said "hot", which is not the case in my current location, where we barely ever hit 85°F.  Others talked about back to school.  But for most French residents, it's still about vacation or at least a slower pace of life due to all the other folks being away. 

You almost have to experience it to believe it. That eeriness when you drive to work and feel like you're practically the only person on the road.  How places like supermarkets and intersections just seem quieter.  The next two weeks there will only be two instead of five teachers at my company.  That's gonna be super quiet...

But that's ok, because I like having August to myself.  I feel like I'm still on vacation and can get some home projects done when I'm not actually working.

Besides, I did have a nice longish week in the mountains in July.  It's funny how when I told my family in the US I'd be gone a week, they said, "Wow, a whole week!" while most French people said, "Oh, just a week?"  I even took to replying that I'd be gone "une petite semaine" ("a little week") to French people, but would sometimes hastily add that I also had the last week of August (since Juliette's daycare is inexplicably closed that week). 

Ah, French people bask in their five weeks off and can't conceive of having less.  Americans can't conceive of five luxurious weeks and make the most of their two to three weeks. 

That must be why the French have truly got vacationing down to an art.  Packing up a million household items if they're going camping, leaving at midnight sometimes to avoid traffic and heat, carting three-month olds anywhere including in high altitude. 

I, however, was not born with vacationing in my genes.  And though my adopted country is rubbing off on me in the strangest of ways, I don't know that I am totally at ease during my vacation.  Like one of my favorite authors, Sally Vickers, says in several of her books, life is lived forwards but often enjoyed and understood backwards.  Vacations seem to be the same.  Try as I might to truly appreciate the moment, it seems I reminisce the week after and kick myself for not enjoying it even more.  During the vacation I let little things get to me: hubby's grumpiness or Juliette's whines.  Afterwards, I don't totally forget it, but my mind goes back to the misty walk on a hillcrest or the soothing green of the conifers surrounding our vacation village.

Maybe like this picture, strangely fuzzy from the misty weather, vacation memories become mottled, hazed over with what we want to remember. 

At any rate I am thankful to have had the opportunity to get away and see some beautiful landscapes, a big breath of fresh air in more ways than one.

Ah, Paris!

I don't often go to Paris, and it's a shame.  I am so close by train and there is so much to see.  The last time I went was simply to change trains last summer when I came back from Grenoble visiting Crystal.  But yesterday I returned with Juliette to get her new passport application turned in.

Remi couldn't go this time as it's smack dab in his busy season.  I was slightly apprehensive taking on the subway with my little one, but she was amazingly well-behaved and up for an adventure.  As we got out of the station of Place de la Concorde near the embassy and she saw all the traffic and city buzz, she immediately started saying she loved Paris. I think she's inherited my love of hustle and bustle.

Things went ok at the embassy.  It's frightening to realize 5 years have gone by (in the blink of an eye!) since our little pot-bellied baby with no hair got her first passport.  Now she's a blonde-haired whirling dervish of a girl- unable to sit on her bottom for extended periods of time and full of energy.  The sweet-faced American civil servant asked us both to raise our right hands and pledge all the information we'd submitted about our passports was true.  Juliette couldn't keep her hand up and barely responded when the lady asked her her age and who I was in relation to her (to make sure I wasn't some random person, I suppose). She's still shy with strangers.  Who knows what she'll be like in five years time for the next passport renewal?  All pre-teen 'tude, perhaps?

It's a strange sensation to be in the US embassy.  I've practically stopped trying to guess the nationalities of the people I see.  There are ladies with American features who now dress like chic French ones in high heeled boots and flashy cream slacks.  Or US business men who speak impeccable French.  We expats are all hybrids now, it seems.  Even I find that I carefully prepare what I'm going to wear to convey some image of studied nonchalance- my Old Navy turquoise cords and black and white floral shirt with my grandma's Clark's shoes.  But with my smartish tweed coat and big leather handbag for a little classiness.

After the embassy we had the rest of the day to loll about and enjoy Paris.  I stupidly didn't bring my cell phone, thus camera, because the embassy website scared the daylights out of me saying electronic devices were strictly forbidden!  Turns out I could have checked it at the security area though.  So there are no pictures to memorialize our fun day.  But I tried to burn some of the special images in my mind's eye:

• Juliette's blond curls bouncing up and down as she tried out the trampolines in Jardin des Tuileries, the gardens next to the Louvre.  
• Enjoying lunch under the chestnut trees in a café and watching sparrows come to our table.  
• The digitalis and phlox and irises in tones of blue and pink in the gardens.  
• Splashing in the fountains near the glass pyramid of the Louvre.  
• Juliette mastering escalators in the underground shopping mall of Les Halles.

And I had a chance to test some of those Parisian stereotypes.  See if you agree with me.

1. All French people are snotty and Parisians are in a rush.  Faux!  I had several help me out spontaneously when they saw me looking at a map or simply looking lost.  Two or three offered us a seat on the metro when they saw Juliette and I trying to hold on to the poles.

2. The public transportation in Paris is a breeze for tourists.  Yes and no.  It's fairly easy to figure out, just look for the terminus station in the direction you need to go and follow the signs.  Yes, but follow closely because the stations are a maze, especially in major junctions like Les Halles and Gare du Nord.  Sometimes a good street map and walking shoes will do just as well.

3. Nothing is free in Paris.  Faux.  There's a lot you can do without spending a centime.  Like the Jardin des Tuileries, just watching and taking up the scenery.  Visiting the Obelisk at Place de la Concorde, the Eiffel Tower without actually going up top.  There is a multitude of parks and places to soak up architecture.

4. It's an expensive city.  Yeah, food is especially pricey and when you DO go to an exhibit, you'll have to fork out a good amount.  But you don't always have to eat in fancy places and you can find a compromise to stay in your budget.

5. There are pickpockets everywhere.  You certainly have to be careful, but I'd say there are even more visible dangers or rather annoyances to avoid.  Folks trying to get you to sign some survey and give them money or street vendors who'll sell you cheap trinkets.  Recently saw you've got to be careful with "shell game" scams.

6. The waiters are rude.  Well, they are blasé, that's for sure.  Maybe it's because I speak to them in French now and have sort of figured out their secret code, but they are more bearable to me.  They look off in the distance probably thinking about the next customer or when they get off work.  But they are polite enough and will even give you tourist advice.  Just don't expect a big friendly North American smile and "y'all come back now!"

What a city, nevertheless, and I can't wait to go back to explore some more!

Stuck in the middle with you

I wish this post were just as fun as this song.  But it's more like that scene in Reservoir Dogs that it is heard in.  About as much fun as getting your ear cut off.

Cause airport snafus and delays are probably akin to hell.  Ok, these are decidedly first world problems, I know.  But when we learned that our flight to Atlanta was delayed by two hours, we knew we were in for a bumpy ride.  By the time we touched down, our connecting flight to Paris was already boarding and once we got to the gate there was no agent to be found.  Thus ensued a crazy 36 hours of stress and international travel.

In the middle of one of the biggest holiday travel weekends

I should have known that everybody and their brother would be travelling back that weekend after New Year's.  That's why it was nearly impossible for us to get another flight back to Paris that evening.  Though I begged to be put on standby for the next flight, the agents made it clear it was unlikely we'd get a seat as there were already 15 folks on standby.  This was Friday night.  At one point they told me they could get me out on a flight leaving Tuesday.  Thus arriving in Paris Wednesday!  What?!

In the middle of a winter storm

The fact that a lot of the northern flights had been cancelled or delayed due to the snow up that way wasn't helping matters.  In Atlanta there was no snow at all, just bitter temps, but the effects of all those flights was being felt down south too.  So we cut our losses and got a hotel voucher for the night.

In the middle of a nightmare

Do you ever have that recurring dream where you try to dial a number and can't get through?  I do.  And I lived it.  Once at the hotel I discovered that my room's phone didn't work.  And silly me hadn't thought to activate my French cell phone in the US.  I had to ask to change rooms to get one with a functioning phone.  And when I used that one the cord fell out during my call home to my mom.  Luckily I finally figured out how to use the hotel wifi on my tablet to message my family and check on flights.

In the middle of customer service life lessons

The next morning I took the airport shuttle back to the Delta counter and luckily got in line before things got too hairy.  I still had to wait a good 45 minutes to speak with an agent.  I explained my situation calmly (but with a slight look of desperation on my face!) and luckily she worked her computer system magic and got us on standby for a flight that afternoon.  I told her she was an angel and that made her smile.  I almost added that I hoped I wouldn't need to see her again.  That would have been bad luck, I figured.  It wouldn't have mattered, as it turns out.

In the middle of a major (and humongous) international airport

ATL is a big airport for those who don't know it.  After I got my magical standby tickets I called Remi at the hotel (using the Delta counter phone since I didn't have my own) and told him to pack up the room and come with Juliette on the shuttle.  Get off at the first stop and wait for me.  Thing is, somehow we missed each other and he and Juliette kept wandering around the terminal looking for me.  With no cell phones we couldn't find each other.  We paged each other and my mom was even calling at some points via page. 

And that's how I saw my "angel" agent again, since I needed her help to page Remi.  She was a bit worse for wear after dealing with so many bedraggled passengers.  I seemed to be in another nightmare!   Finally I heard a page for me telling me to go to the international terminal.  But the helpdesk lady told me to go through security to take the little subway to get there.

In the middle of bowl game season

So I went through the snakey security line and said "War Eagle" to a few Auburn fans who were on their way to Pasadena to see AU play Florida State.  My Alma mater didn't win but I had fun chatting with the orange-clad fans while I panciked about getting reunited with my little family.  I envied those travelers just doing some frivolous little trip and not being lost or delayed!

In the middle, literally

Somehow I finally found Remi and Juliette.  After arriving in the international gate, I realized what all the security agents had been telling me, that Remi and Juju couldn't be in that part of the airport yet as I had their passports and boarding passes.  So I went upstairs to the external check-in area and caught a glimpse of my little girl's bright pink coat and blond curls and knew I'd found them.  Remi and Juju were accompanied by two Delta agents who were helping them page/find me.  I thanked these other two "angels" for their help and we officially checked in for our flight.  

But wait, we were just on standby, remember?  Luckily the agents called us and said they had seats. Three midde seats.  Beggars and airport refugees can't be choosers so we took those seats.  And I had to then beg about four different men to switch out with us so I could sit next to Juliette.  This proved to be quite hard as it seems nobody wants to be in the middle on a transAtlantic flight.  Finally one tall black man gave in, and he was my last "angel" of that very long day.

In the middle of Mindy!

While back in the US I discovered the totally fun TV series The Mindy Project.  Since I can't sleep well on flights, I spent most of those eight-ish hours watching the on-demand system.  Broadchurch, a British mini-series, some Psych episodes and three more Mindy's!  Check out one of my favorite scenes. Thank heaven for small miracles.

So now it's been three weeks since we returned and jet lag is over, Christmas nostalgia fading.  But I won't soon forget what it felt like to be in the middle of that crazy travel nightmare...

Wanted: Indian Summer

I'm sitting here looking at an anemic sky: some greyish clouds billowing around on white; there is sun sometimes but not much blue sky.  This September has been one of those partly sunny-partly cloudy deals.  Some days down-right chilly and rainy.  So I guess I must face facts, it IS autumn.  Tomorrow in fact.

So I've been a bit nostalgic about my summer and the good times we had.  Maybe because the weather was actually very summer-like (for once) and now the chillier air is quite a contrast. Allow me to indulge in some summer memories.

My new solar-powered lantern that comes on at night.

Strawberry wine and strawberries with sugar.

Enjoying a meal on the balcony.

And as you know, every year I go through some pre-Autumn depression. But this year I'm determined to make the best of things.  Setting goals and looking forward to things.  I'll let you know more later on just what (but I've got some ideas...).

Last Sunday we got out and did something to beat the blues- a little visit to the port city of Boulogne and its historic walled town center. 

We also ate at what had to be the worst restaurant in Boulogne in terms of service (s-l-ooooo-wwwww) and which boasted a very mediocre menu.  And one of the funniest menu translations I've ever seen!

Google translate at work, people.  Pavé is a piece of meat but they translated it as "paved", as there is also the verb paver (to pave).  Emincé should again be pieces of meat which are sliced thinly not simply "sliced thinly", and filet is the same word in English, but in French it can also mean a net, as in the net when you play tennis.  I should have seen it coming that this restaurant wasn't up to snuff by its menu alone! 

This weekend I'm just cleaning a bit (as Juliette's school friend and next-building neighbor has come to play) and tomorrow will be in-law visiting.  We're settling into our school and work routine and trying to go with the flow.

Here's wishing you a cozy and productive fall, y'all!

Train travel and (almost) touching the clouds

I always feel excited when I travel by train. Correction, when I travel by train for fun and not work. So I was feeling doubly happy when I took the train last Saturday with Juliette to go visit my friend Crystal. The trip was all I'd hoped for! Things were gray and rainy when we set out, but it didn't dampen my spirits.  It was truly strange to pull into the Charles de Gaulle airport station and not get off.  It's the place where my many trips to the US begin and end (sadly).

Even in the rain, the view out the window was still lush and different enough from my flatter part of France to keep my head dreaming.

We even got to sit in first class on one train since it was rather packed and the other passengers (including a French-Moroccan guy travelling with his American wife) said it was no big deal.  It is cozier!

And there at the Grenoble station my good friend Crystal and her husband Max were waiting for us.  And so began an extended weekend of fun and girlfriendly chats and visits in the mountain air.

It's silly to say, I told my hosts as we were driving around, but the clouds are closer here.  Being higher up I felt like I could touch the clouds and mist.  I really do find the landscapes there so inspiring and understand why my friend likes it so much!  Below you can see two different views from her apartment, one on a cloudy day, another on a clear day.

Crystal kindly showed us around an amazing museum and its gorgeous gardens on Sunday.  Great views inside and out!

Monday we headed into Grenoble for some city exploring and to take the cable cars up to La Bastille for some more breathtaking views.

I know my eyes are closed in that last one but it was a hoot anyway cause we got Juliette to take it for us and you can see I was really having a ball!

But we did have to head back home.  Crystal knows what a great time we had and how thankful I am to her and Max for letting us stay with them.  It's so important to chat with someone who knows where you're from and what you're going through in a foreign country.  I'm lucky to have friends like her and others I've met through work and in my town.

So we rode the rails again to get home and I tried to enjoy the train experience again.  This time we had to change in Paris in Gare du Nord.  And of course a Happy Meal at the McDonald's across from the station as we waited for our train connection was in order.

So, until next time in my neck of the woods, girlfriend, thanks again!!

Road rules, learned the hard way

Last weekend we took a road trip to the Bourgogne region of France.  It was a five-hour drive to the center of France that started out like any other road trip...with a fight about why the durn GPS was not detecting the satellite right away.  Typical.  That hurdle cleared I hoped the rest of the trip would be pleasant.  Can't say that's entirely true in our little family where patience is in short supply, but on the upside, it makes for good blog fodder!

So here are a few choice things I learned from our extended weekend.

1. Gum makes everything better.

We've recently discovered that Juju can get a little carsick.  Thanks to MameeLin's bright idea, a bit of mint gum keeps her occupied and steady.  And maybe the fear of her getting sick keeps her quiet.  We hardly heard a peep from the backseat.

2. Kids and culture don't mix.  Not yet, at least.  I tried to be smart about the limited sightseeing we did on this trip, limited being the key word.  I'd checked out some websites about Dijon beforehand and even some on kids' activites.  We just did some walking along shady or not so shady streets, checked out every fountain we saw and especially the one you can play in near the Palais des Ducs. And when in doubt about something, ask another mom for directions or advice.  I snagged one who was buying her kids ice cream to be sure we were on the right way to the fountain.

Rue de la Vannerie, Dijon.

3. Speaking of ice cream, buy plenty.  Hey, when it's blistering hot, go for it.  It makes everyone happy, cools off tempers and is part of being on vacation!

4. Do go off the beaten path.  Even though sometimes it annoys me at the time, my husband's tendency to explore (read: keep driving to find the perfect restaurant) can lead to some fun experiences.  We happened upon the Fête de l'Escargot (the snail festival) in Digoin last weekend.  There were an amazing number of people in line at the town hall for their plate of garlicky snails but we opted for a crêpe restaurant that was also serving snails (not in crêpes, mind you).  I got the rôti (roast pork), for the record. 

 

5. Rest stops are meant for resting.  To get to Bourgogne we took the toll roads.  The one good thing about this is that the rest stops are fairly abundant and clean.  And there's lots of tempting goodies in the mini-markets there.  Eiffel Tower magnets, anyone?

 

French junk food: waffles, pain au chocolat, brioche, and, oh yeah, some Oreos!

Watch out for the prices though.  We saw this one family of four getting a basketful of groceries: some speciality salads, cherry tomatoes, sandwiches, yogurts, and candy which amounted to a whopping 60 euros!  

 They're also pretty good about providing some play areas for kids to get those legs stretched out.

So I hope my roadweary experiences will help you out some too.  And don't forget to check your GPS before leaving and...bring along a map just in case. 

Summer is...

Family time!

Sky meeting the umbrellas on the restaurant patio.

Serious fun on the beach.

Wondrous gazes at the zoo/park Pairi Daiza.  A real must see in Belgium.

Pampering!  With the fish pedicure also at Pairi Daiza. Five euros for fifteen minutes of fish cleaning off our dead skin!

Taking time to stop and appreciate the scenery.

As you can see, I've got my mom and sister here so am keeping blogging to a minimum.  Hope you all are having a great time too!