Bordeaux

March 22 We went to say hello to Eric and Virginia Hoyte's friend. Her name is Fox (Her maiden name that stuck). She is in her early 80's. She has more recall than I do, and I know that she retains most knowledge she has learned during her life. We went to say hello but stayed and hung out together for a few days. She was not only fun but she was kind and generous to two strangers, really treating us like we were very special guests. And of course we were not strangers when we parted, in fact we are all hoping to meet again and travel in Eastern Europe.

We got quite lost trying to find her and ended up at the family winery/vineyards, Chateau Brandeau, where her son Antony redirected us to the woods and her home. Oh my! There is nothing else to say except that it is magic...almost like driving up to a Brigadoon dwelling...a thin veil that you must walk through to open a quaint stick gate, and cross a stream on a skinny wooden bridge, walk by the mill ponds on your right and the old stone mill building on your left, which has been very carefully and minimally altered to become her's, and late husband Peter's, comfy home...still retaining the early stone built feel. Knock, knock on the door in the evening and welcoming us is a woman with long grey hair pulled up in a knot on the back of her head, of course with a few strands straying. She wears long French blue socks stuck into her favorite slip on shoes, a lovely woven dirndle skirt, blue V-neck sweater with white collar peaking out. She has a dark blue shawl thrown perfectly around her shoulders, and later puts a sweater-jacket on over it all. And she has a lovely smile. She gives us a tour outside and in. It is truly an exercise in making a place comfortable but keeping the country feel of an old working mill. Copper pots hang on shiny blue tiles. Gas stove for cooking and wood stove which goes constantly on these cold spring days. And sometimes for added warmth and ambiance, she lights the big kitchen fire place. This is where we spend most of our time, chatting about places to go, places she has been...and what she knows about their histories. Her love is the art of churches, paintings, icons, sculpture and architecture. We were kept busy writing and pin-pointing places on our maps. We had meals together which she insisted upon cooking. It was very hard to say goodbye to her this morning.

At Fox's encouragement we made our way to Saint-Emillion's pottery museum. (Eric, if you have not seen this you must come back!) The owner of the museum greeted us, probably his only customers that day. A man so passionate about his collections of pottery, over a thousand pieces spanning 20 centuries. His chosen site is a lit underground quarry dating from the 12^th and 13^th centuries which produced the stones to build the town center Chateau de Roy and the town ramparts. It seems impossible that he was able to collect so many examples. Also, the museum carries pottery from local artists, in the same setting. Most of these pieces relate to the collection in some way. It was truly magnificent to walk though. He warned us that if we got lost in the caverns that we should listen for the trickle of water that is part of a small pottery display and head toward it. It worked. One could get lost in this underground wonder. As we talked it was uncovered that he had made a success of a local Chateau vineyard/winery with the help of his father and his own family. He made a very good living and started to work on the museum when he was tired of letting the winery take over his life. (Alphonse, his personality reminded me very much of you.) David and I had just done some wine tasting where we had tried some red wine that had never been in barrels. We were surprised to hear that. This particular bottle of wine was not good. But we had tried some of Fox's son's wine who makes his red wine this way and found it to be quite good. Well, our pottery museum fellow got passionate about this subject. He said that most Bordeaux wines are made this way and that oak is not needed if you know what you are doing!? (What do you think about that Alphonse?)

March 23 We started driving toward the wine area of Medoc and decided that a change of scenery was in order so we switched directions and headed to the coast. And here we found ourselves driving through forests...but they were managed forests as far as we could see. Pine. All lined up in rows. There were stacks of logs all cut the same length (as usual in France), too short to use for building as we would. I have not found out why and what the wood is used for. As I said before, houses are not built of wood. We did find out that the pine forests are sick with that same little pest, the pine beetle and also that they have not had enough rain in the past two years to keep the trees healthy. A research company is working on developing a pine that is not susceptible to this insect. Well this scene of man-made perfect forests soon got tiresome, but we reached the coastal sand dunes that are like our Oregon dunes. While David hiked around the side of the dune to get photos, I had fun watching all the kids playing in it climbing to the top and coming down running or tumbling or diving. (No sand boards or plastic sleds like we saw in California.) The area is quite like California vegetation...and so are the towns more spread out and modern. It was a bit strange. This was a different France than we had been wandering through. A few more visits to more beaches and we headed inland and find ourselves parked on the city ramparts in a most private place with a park on the other side of us. There are cars speeding around on a Friday night just like home. A city that feels about as large as Spokane, Mont-de-Marsan,but again there are wonderful old parts of it. I guess we like the dreamy old medieval architecture that takes us away to a place we cannot find in America. This seems a lively place, very full of activity. It just feels good.

Oh, yes, but I forgot.....we were stopped again by a gendarme group, this time they wanted to see car registration, license etc. Well we had all our papers but the officer couldn't read them anyway. We ended up having a friendly talk. It seems that most police have never seen a US license plate in their country and have no idea what the rules might be for such a car, but we are prepared! David remarked to me that it is not at all scary to be stopped by the French police.... ah, but you should see him when he spots a cop in the States!

And we got our taxes taken care of today! (Thanks to Donna!)

March 24 This morning we walked to Saturday market. A good big one in a large square not far from here. Down a dirt road to the grass-sided river and up some stairs, through a few small streets and there we were. Large indoor section and more on the square. All food or plants/flowers. Fruits, vegetables, sheep and goat cheese, a whole cooked chicken, sausage, smoked herring, a baguette and a couple of treats for us to eat as we walked. David also found some tripe cooked with other ingredients and bought that for his lunch. Now we had so many bags that we had to go back home...our van, situated in the best neighborhood! When the groceries got put away we got the blanket out and snoozed on the grass in the sunshine. The park serves as our backyard.

There is a Sculpture Museum in the old stone buildings next to us. We have never come across that many pieces in one place. The permanent collection took up four floors up, new acquisitions...one floor down, and the rest outside in lovely settings. They were all representing the human figure in free standing or relief. Also, there were many life drawings and preparation pieces, done before the final work. The human being simplified and silent. And beautiful.

In the evening, back to the central square for a couple of beers and people watching.

Thoughts and observations:

> There were four elderly women sitting on a bench behind us in the park, dressed well, laughing a lot. David remarked, “There's the Joanna Chapter!”

> While lying on the blanket looking up at the sky, a sky-jumper parachute came down toward me. We were under a Linden tree and a spinning double seed pod came down from a high branch to the ground beside me. What a show! Really, isn't nature miraculous?

2:00 am March 27

Here I sit in the middle of the night with my headlamp on. Can't sleep. Too much good red Bordeaux wine with Antoinette this evening. She lives in the house above where are car is parked for the night in the foothills of the Pyrenees. Antoinette saw the Canadian flag on our car and came to ask if by chance we were Canadian. She is from Ontario but lives here as a resident for the past 20 years. I can see why. This place is truly amazing.

From Mont de Marsan we made our way to the city of Pau (po like so). Another really lovely city (where Henry the lV was born and laid in a tortoise shell...just for your information). It faces the Pyrenees which stretch for as far as we can see. Big craggy mountains with lots of snow still on them. We spent a pleasant summery day. As usual we walked the streets of the old section and found two most beautiful churches that were painted inside not only with murals but with all sorts of decoration. Yummy! We both love this stuff though David is always fascinated with the architecture also. Then we took in an exhibition of really good (1400) tapestries and illustrated inked manuscripts. Shopping is good in this city. High end clothing stores. The women here know just what to do with those clothes on their slim bodies along with their good haircuts.

We left Pau in the late afternoon with a plan to start heading toward the mountains. We always choose small towns, small roads and this one was a humdinger! One of the most beautiful places I have ever been in my life. Steep hills of green pastures and animals and farms and small forested areas in between... and always the mountains. The view is all open without obstruction. Then you drive through a small village down it's skinny streets hoping a car isn't coming...and we arrive here at Antoinette's. A very Canadian personality, which she is but has lived here 20 years. She saw the Canadian flag on our car and invited us in for wine. She loves it in this mountain valley. The view is stunning...craggy snow topped mountains and the town of Arudy below. She is a dancer. Her passion is the Argentinian Tango which she does a couple of times a week. She showed us all her different dancing shoes...spiked heels and sexy. She also spent time with suggestions of where to go next, what to eat etc. We will soon be in the Basque country!

Now, maybe I can sleep! We'll see. The wind is raging outside!

MARCH 28

Morning market in Arudy so we stocked up on fruit and vegetables, a baguette and some Basque cheese. In front of the cheese stand there was a Basque costumed couple painted on a board...Yes, with two holes to put our heads in for photos. David and I were laughing so hard and when we turned to look the cheese lady was laughing with us. She offered to take pictures of us together. It was all very fun, she speaking French and us English...the laughter was the same language. We left for the Pyrenees...for a mountain pass (col) Vallee de l'Ouzom. First through farming villages and pastures and sheep and cows and goats. The the hills started turning into mountains. I am not sure that I can tell you the difference between our mountains in Washington and here. It is the openess I think. From the road you can see all over, there are no giant evergreen trees blocking your few. What there are, but fewer of are shorter pines and deciduous trees which are not yet in leaf. And there are no tourists in weather like summer. So we were pretty much awed most of the way. We reached a large basin at the summit...the beginnings of the Ouzom river starting with streams into streams into streams, building the river. There was still snow and a few climbers, sledders and cross country skiers. You can walk over the mountain grass and snow up into the the highest peak, Pic du Midi ( 8000 ft. +) or up a pass to ski down. (Hal and Carol you would love this!) So I put on my boots and wool sweater and we went for a hike. It was wonderful to be out there.

Time to be on our way and find a place to park the night. We crossed over into Spain and were surprised to find huge resorts, one after the other. Making a loop to go back through the Pyrenees on a different pass, we went through Jaca...a beautiful thriving city. So far, the economic trouble they are in is not evident. We found a quiet spot in a small town with some rocky snowless mountains above...topped by a large knob, circled in rock cliffs. A natural walled fortress. Anxious to see more mountain beauty, we started back to France toward Vallee d'Aspe. We could not read the Spanish and before we knew it we were in long straight tunnel through the mountains...about a 15 minute drive! We saw only trucks, no cars. We were sure that we would be charged a large amount when we reached the other end...and scolded for going through a truck tunnel, but no, it didn't happen. We were now in the high French mountains again and decided to take a some “white” roads. We came back down into the foothills and stopped at a butcher shop to buy some yummy sausages and pates and a jambon pastry then made our way mostly uphill on winding thin roads. Not much traffic, we did see a couple of cars. The view again was breathtaking and we were in high sheep country. The places people live! On the steep side of mountain hills covered in natural pasture for their sheep. Some of the buildings and huts were probably summer places for the shepherds. We saw mountain sheep dotting high places several times. All over the people were burning. There were low fires spreading everywhere. We are not sure about the reason. Maybe as our farmers burn their fields for stronger crops? (in this case grass?) Or there seemed to be a shrubby weed that burned easily. Perhaps they were trying to get rid of that. Anyway, it is a tradition here in the spring. We drove very far and came to a road barrier! Oh no. We don't want to go back! Maybe there are fires? A short distance back there were a couple of men burning and watching their fires so we went to ask them. Of course no English but it is getting so it does not matter. What we understood was...Oh go ahead, the road is good, you'll make it! So we did, but not easily. I get that “queazy” feeling that we are going over the edge. David is such a gauker! Once I had to get out while he made one of the corners! He is a good driver I have to say. He manages to see everything and stay on the road. Tonight we are in a mountain village but sit high above it by the old church and churchyard with all the old family marble graves. The names are strange to us, but it is a good feeling to see the care of these old family roots. The church clock strikes the time twice each hour and it is up to 10. And they are loud and real bells that clang. But I will go to bed and hope not to notice!

THOUGHTS AND OBSERVATIONS:

> We see fly fishermen in the many streams and rivers. David noticed one man studying the insects that were over the fishing hole to choose which fly from his box that he would tie on his line.

> David loves each and every city, town or village tourist office. Always the question, “Do we need anything at the tourist office?”

> Mireille, can you imagine all the French music CDs you gave us in these high mountain roads? It's the best!

> There are large birds soaring around us. One a white falcon, There is a very large bird with a split tail. Don't know what it is but Lonely Planet says there are golden eagles, griffon and bearded vultures, booted eagles and buzzards.

> There were numerous brown bears here at one time but are now very scarce.

Beynac and La Roque (The Rock)

These are two “must see” medieval towns. And they were really interesting and different.

Beynac sports a large chateau that teeters on the edge of very high cliffs with it's medieval town built steeply down the side to the river below. We drove to the top and wandered around before we started walking downhill. Narrow narrow street, really only an old cobbled path. At the very top some people were living in the homes, fixing them up with lovely colored doors and shutters and rot iron gates. Then just below, I think maybe it was just too hard to get to so the dwellings seemed less taken care of but at a certain point cars were parked and houses began looking put together again. Some were for sale. The views!!! So cars managed to drive up from below on skinny streets...little skinny cars which there are far more of here in France. We could not stop our explorations downhill so of course we had to climb all the way back up! I remembered Marcia Smith saying what a steep climb it was.

La Roque is very different. The town is mostly on the one main street next to the river. Tour boats and canoes are for hire but it was a cold day and walking was in order. Above the town tower limestone cliffs which have been inhabited by humans since the 10^th century. Masonry finished off some parts, with windows looking out to the valley. Original deep caves were in other parts. I could not imagine how the people got themselves into the caves. There did appear to be narrow pathways maybe reached from above but they were worn and gone in some places. I would not be able to travel those trails I know! The last to really use these caves were the French soldiers of the 100 Years War against the English. They used them for barracks. We walked as high as we could hoping that we could take a wooden staircase attached to the side of the cliff but it was closed. Probably a good thing. It did not look very safe! The limestone cliffs hold heat and allow exotic plants to grow. Cactus, palm trees and forests of bamboo. A quick stop to another hilltop medieval town, Domme. It was a good one but we seem to be saturated with old stone towns and big chateaus for now. They are beginning to run together so we will give it a break for awhile. Tonight we are visiting friends of Eric and Virginia Hoyte who have a winery and vineyard close-by.

Sarlat to Bordeaux

Heading south toward Sarlat in the dark, trying to find a place to stay the night, we drive into a village, Nexon, turn the corner and a large group of policemen wave us over. Yikes! But it is just Friday night breathalizer test. The policeman does not speak English, nor we French...so we do understand that David is to take the device with a tube and blow into it. He begins.... the officer says, “Again, again, again, again.” Thinking that he is supposed to start again David proceeds to start again. “no, no, no, no, no!” David was supposed to breath in more, more , more. We thought it quite funny. He thought we were fairly stupid. But the green light went on and he waved us away. The next morning we drove further south to Montignac. Another beautiful little village on a river. We mainly used it as a base to visit the Caves of Lascaux. Painted cave walls done by prehistoric Cro-Magnon man. Wonderful walls of yellow ochre, black, red and white. Animals in motion. Imagine how it would look in the flickering of torch light! All the animals hunted by these men and probably worshipped in some way like our American Indians do. Many were bigger that life. So powerful. Wild horses, ponies, reindeer and deer, bulls, rhinoceros, bear, cow and calf. There was also a repeating symbol throughout the walls that is still a mystery as to what it means. The way to Sarlat was beautiful. High up most of the time. Long luscious views. We dipped down into a small deep valley to buy some Fois Gras...Goose liver pate. We were not interested in watching the dear sweet geese being force fed! Just wanted a taste. Bought a small can worth 16 Euro. Saving it for some celebration. Nice talk with the owner who spoke French only so it was a lot of pantomiming and laughing. He shamed me for being Canadian and not speaking French!

Sarlat! Everything you said it would be Marcia! Instead of climbing a hill to the Medieval village, it is placed in the center flat area surrounded by hills. So you walk down to it. A large space with lots of open squares. It is CARNIVAL time and children are following drummers, dancers and jugglers through the streets... all in costume. Ronald McDonald is even there swinging off the back of a truck. In the early evening people are strolling the narrow streets, looking for the restaurant that suits them, the menu, the price. It is cold and rainy now. People take out their umbrellas. I am surprised that so many are carrying them. Neat French umbrellas. It is late so we will explore more the next day which is also rainy. We check out the indoor market which is behind black steel doors ajar...30 feet tall, shaped to fit the Gothic peaked archway. Really quite a spectacle. To get warm we head for coffee and a croissant and have some good conversations with holidaying Australians and a French woman who tells me that she has been to Ottawa, Montreal and Quebec. She is strongly of the opinion that although they insist they are, the French speaking Canadians are NOT French! At 4:30 we attend a concert in the Cathedral. A local choir sings, a flutist, piano (playing my favorite Chopin), and the organ, loud and strong and reverberating through the heavenly tall arches above. But my favorite was a young contralto. How could this voice come out of her...every bit as loud and strong and reverberating! What a thrill. Tme to move on further south.

From the Loire River Valley south to St. Junien

Last two Castles... March 14

A whole day of chateaus. Ambroise, with Italian gardens...very simple grass and shrubs pruned to balls, hundreds of them, and trees...working their way uphill. A sunny day and birds were very busy singing. We took our time and gazed across the river and over the town. A hazy spring that is good for picture taking. Sometimes I think I will go crazy waiting and waiting for David. He is always searching for another good photo. He is distracted for sure. He has such a good time with his camera. We walked down rows of trees with brown leaves still clinging...and a breeze wafted through making the most beautiful music. All this “to-do” around Kings and Queens and Dukes etc. This King most impressed me because it is the French King Francois I...who loved beauty. He surrounded himself with genius', one of them being Leonardo De Vinci who he installed in a small chateau up the road. Why not! De Vinci came up with some amazing military equipment, flying machines and architecture (all of which we saw inside his home). Francois and Leonardo were the best of friends. The artist/inventor is buried in a small chapel on the grounds, as he wished. Did you know that he coined the phrase, “Love conquers all”?...and many many more. A very smart man. While we walked high up in this town we saw lots of underground homes carved right into the rock. Chimneys coming right out of the ground above them. Some fancy with shutters and french doors...it was quite strange to see. We had seen some earlier that probably had been carved into the rock earlier, in farming land.

Oh yes...we also got haircuts both at the same expensive French salon! Ahh but we did get amazing shampoos and head massages. We were draped in fancy black coats and a snazzy collar was slapped around our necks.

And this afternoon we toured Chambord, the biggest chateau of them all. I started to laugh when we walked toward it. It was a Disney scene! The castle where Cinderella went to the ball, I'm sure! Remarkable! But silly! I think David got some good photos. The grounds are large and very simple with trees and promenades. You can imagine the guards prancing in on horses with the army marching close behind. Or you can visualize the Queens, their children and the servants all in beautiful clothing...going out for a days picnic or the King and his favorites off on a hunt in the massive forests. There were deer antlers displayed everywhere.

So this evening we are in an unknown town by a smallish river. We have had our wine andhors d'oeuvres and it is time for bed. Tomorrow we are heading to the Dordogne area just east of Bordeaux.

March 16th.... David says, “Another town, another chateau.” It is true, but we rode right by them. Enough is enough. We did spend some lazy walking time in villages that looked good to us. We can't get enough of oldness...of the folks that were here before us. We set the GPS for some places we wanted to visit and then discovered that the town that our friends Bert and Michelle live in, Montmorillon, was dead center so why not go there. Bert and Michelle are in Spokane but at least we would get a feel for the town they live in. It was much bigger than we had envisioned but we followed the GPS which takes us to the best stuff...and found ourselves high on a hill amongst all the oldest buildings surrounding a high tower. This part of the city has been named after all the book stores and supporting related shops...press, caligraphy etc. that ring the tower in narrow narrow cobbled streets. We stopped in at a few book stores. One was an English book store. What I noticed was the old books illustrated beautifully like the ones in my mother's childhood. David was looking for a certain book and started talking with James, the owner. Quite quickly it turned out that he is a good friend of our friends. And why not! Bert reads more books than any one I know and he would find his way to an English book store. It is here that one says, “small world!” So next stop is the book store next door...owned by a French man who spends half a year on the Spanish coast. We coaxed him into giving us tips on what we must see in Spain. We are ready! He made it sound sooooo delicious!

Leaving there, we made our way south to Mortemart for the night. We arrived there at sundown and walked the streets of this very small settlement that that remains largely unchanged. It consists of a church, nun's convent which is a Gite (Hostel/hotel), catholic school and a small chateau maybe for priests? Dukes? Other buildings support it and some are still homes, I think probably beautiful inside. We walked around the chateau and were accompanied by a white swan and a black swan in the stream beside us. Then to the church where the door was open and the low sun streamed in and lit up the alter wall which was quite beautiful. A huge painting of Mary ascending into heaven with angels. The sunlight on it almost made it believable.

Heading on again we saw a sign for Megalithes. We bumped up some roads that got worse as we went on and finally parked and followed a trail to find a huge lonely standing stone. The dirt around it was beaten down and shiny showing that many pilgrims had been there. We were quite impacted by it. It was about 16 feet tall and had a rough shelf high up. Both of us put our hands on it, for me to feel the sacred energy of how this place was used. And then on to Oradour-sur-Glane. Two days after D-day the nazis , knowing that the war would soon be finished for them, gathered all the women and children of the village into the church, did what they wanted with the women, tear-gassed them all and machine-gunned down every one of them. The men were grouped and shot. 642 people, almost the whole town. 5 men and 1 woman survived. The soldiers burned the entire town down. Today you can wander through the town, untouched. In ruins. Silently enter the church. Go by the Butcher shops, Bakeries, Haircutters, Garage, Cafes all in rubble. Old cars burned to a shell, red brown rusted... sewing machines, tables, chairs, machines, bicycles...household and shop items rusted to the same color. It is here for us to see and REMEMBER. Now we are off to find a McDonald's...quite far away as we are in the countryside...not for hamburgers!

SOME THOUGHTS AND OBSERVATIONS:

>We have a daily ritual. In the morning David gets up and takes a walk. I then get dressed and put the bed and all our loose gear away in the back and cover it with a blanket. The van is tickity boo, a sailors saying for everything in it's place. Then maybe breakfast if we are hungry which is usually muesli with walnuts and raisins and soya milk. Sometimes we cook something. We usually do some kind of picnic for lunch and then dinner in the van. Which means the table and a chair is put up. Wine for the cooks, as usual me the sous chef and David the cook as I am known to blow up stoves! At bedtime, all the loose gear comes out and has it's place on top of the stove sink cover. David puts the cozy bed up and climbs in. I set up my toilet! Then hop into bed.

>French trees are butchered. The branches are pruned very far down...so they cannot be natural. Each branch has a big knob on it. The funny thing is that I have come to think of them as French Trees and I kind of like them!

>Baguettes....what an addiction. We often see people rushing home with a couple but one of them is bitten off at the end.

> Baby sheep everywhere. And there are lovely donkeys.

>Noriko...you should look up Montmorillon in France. They have a big writers festival like Sechelt.

>We are discussing whether we will go to Morocco. We have been advised not to take our car several times by people who know. We might just take a tour. We shall see. We are having such a wonderful time following our noses with no deadlines that I think that might just be how this trip goes for us. We don't have a need to mark places off the list...we do have a need to have a good time.

Caen to Angers, and the Loire Valley, France

End of February, beginning of March

We are in Caen. A large city. As we drove in we see racing carts and horses working out on the track. Horses prancing high. We are here to see the Memorial Museum WW II. This is really a must for those of you who are interested in the war and may have had family members participating. Most of us have stories from our parents and grandparents. This is a very well done and large exhibition. It took David and I one long afternoon/evening and again the next morning. It brought me close to the stories of my family. It showed how very dangerous the duties of both my father and my uncle were. My father was a navigator in a small ship, a Canadian Corvet. His duty was to help to get supplies across the Atlantic. There were many cargo ships crossing together. Dangerous! Enemy submarines everywhere. I was old enough to remember some of that war...mostly when my father would come home on leave. He would build us big "tinker toy" structures and we would not touch them until his next visit home. His old Canadian Navy sweater would hang on the doorknob in the kitchen and when I needed my dad I would bury my nose in it...the main smell being pipe tobacco. That was my dad. The other family member was my young uncle. He flew missions between England and France...with a bomb ready behind him. The chances were 50/50 that a pilot would make it back. He did not. With photos and movies and information in English, the stories became larger and closer.

From Caen we started down the Normandy Coast. The more northerly half of the Normandy beaches during the landing in the second WW was the responsibility of the British and the Canadians. We stopped at the Canadian Memorial (of course) which was created from money from the families of soldiers who died in this war. It was informative and manned by Canadian University students who apply to take this on for four months. The most amazing part of this stop was to see the artificial harbor that the allies dreamed up and actually created! It consisted of the placement of a string of cement barges out into the ocean off the beach. Between each barge a metal span was placed, which in the end created a road right on to the beach for the transportation of men, supplies and tanks. And it worked without the enemy knowing what was happening right under their noses. Maybe it was all that fog along the coast that helped make this happen. It is unimaginable to me that this plan succeeded.

Coutances. This small town was recommended by Doris Holdaway. We pulled into the town square at dark. There we stayed with the cathedral on one side and the town hall on the other. In the morning we walked to the city gardens. It is early spring so we did not see everything in full bloom but camelias, heather, daffodils, wild cherry and primroses were out. There were some excellent sculptures also. A really worthwhile stop.

Saturday, we made our way to the magical Mont Saint Michel. Parking lots abound. It was disappointing at first. We wanted the magic and sacredness we had in our imaginations. So we pulled our campervan up beside about 20 others. At dark, the fortress/abbey is lit up from the base to the tip of it's tallest spire. Stunning! And dusky beaches and sea all around. Quite beautiful. However, it would not have looked like that in Medieval times. No amount of lanterns and candles could have made all that light. The next morning, as soon as we entered the walled village we forgot entirely, that we had been disappointed. The narrow cobblestone streets wound uphill between shops...bakeries, butcher shops, wine cellars as well as all the souvenir stores and restaurants. Past the church where mass was to be held at 11:00. We were early birds and would miss this. There are now only 5 monks and 7 nuns at the abbey. Up and up we walked, stairs, pathways, archways...through stone rooms with high ceilings. ..meditation rooms, calligraphy work rooms, mess halls, cloisters with manicured gardens., rooms for meeting royalty and important people and rooms for administering to the poor. And the size of the fireplaces...sometimes three or four in a room. Stone rooms are cold. And always the views of the sand and sea. Back in the village we stopped in a small cafe for a baguette sandwich and a chat with a tour guide. His basic languages being French and Celtic. But he spoke many other languages also. We do feel so embarrassed at speaking only English.

On the way to see our Servas host we stopped at a Brittany sandy beach to watch sail-carts whip around a course. We headed for Breteil where Yves and Agnes (Onyes) live just outside in the country. We were welcomed with a lot of enthusiasm. The family is completed by two pretty daughters, Cecile (17) and Sophie (12). I can here Sophie practicing her flute as I write. Her mom plays the saxophone in a performing group, jazz, folk, classical. She is a German teacher. (She also has a clever and dry sense of humor!) Yves, her husband, is also a teacher in the nearby city of Rennes He is also very involved in editing and publishing the French Servas Magazine twice a year. Their original 1840 home is made of mud walls, a tradition in this basin as there are no stones but plenty of Brittany mud! So the people in this region used what was available. The stones for the first layer of the walls were imported. They provided stability for the mud. A wood frame was built into which the prepared mud was poured. The width of the walls is very thick...thick enough for a horse to stomp back and forth on the first layer of mud to pack it down well. After that layer has dried, they build another frame for the next layer on top. Each layer is about a yard thick, allowing each layer to dry before they continue. The next layers of mud are now stomped down by people. Yves took us for a walk to see a really good example of this....the walk was in the wind and the rain and through the mud! The windows are set in these thick walls with deep sills on the inside. Really cozy. We were served local French home cooked meals. Yves told us that it would be a simple meal. Hmmmm. Scallops in season, mussels and carrots in a cream sauce...and of course good bread. And a simple salad of endives. One evening we had galettes, a black flour of Brittany made into flat lacey crepes. Agnes filled them with ham,egg and cheese. Very good. We have bought some to give it a try in our van. And Sophie made us brownies from scratch. Every evening we started with apperitifs and wine. After salad, the main course, then a variety of Brittany cheeses with bread...and then...a bowl of oranges and walnuts to crack and eat from their walnut trees. Coffee. I think we are in France!

Their home is an exhibition of their travels and daily activities. Photos, pottery, books, paintings and Dali and HundredWaters prints....dolls, masks, puppets...bright blankets and tablecloths...and good CDs. There is a sailboat in their front yard which has sailed the Norwegian waters.

On Monday I spent most of the day on the computer (Yves computer with a keyboard that was different than ours!). David sat at the table mapping out ideas and routes for the next leg of our journey. In the evening we met Yves in Rennes for a tour of the old town. He loves this town and knows its winding and hidden streets and keeps a dialog of it's history going. A row of well used bars/taverns. The inside of a medieval jail. The old gate entry and city walls. The best examples of tall 3 floor wood framed homes leaning into each other. An old Roman church basilica. It was a treat to be on this private walk through history. Yves tells us that Bretons do not think of themselves as French. Actually he does not think that we have to go anywhere else other than Brittany! But Tuesday morning we took our leave along with them. The family was heading off to their work and the school bus. It was a hard goodbye.

Next stop in Vannes, a large coastal city. We walked the old city here, too. Nice Breton/English Tudor style buildings, again leaning and sagging this way and that. Lots of shops but they are tourist places...too cutsy for the likes of us....but we did find a deli with sausage, cheese, vegetables and fruits, savory pastries. So we bought our dinner and headed back to the van. Really, small shops and markets are the only way to buy food. Not only is it fun, but the quality is so high. On to Roden. A really nice small town. We parked by one of it's many inland canals for the night. Because of it's man-made network of canals it is a port far up a river. Washday. We shlepped our laundry each holding the handle of a very large bag to a laundromat. The experience was actually fun, interacting with the owner and employee. Early evening, we found standing stones of druid times. We parked, hiked up a hill and over the top the stones were in the fog in the near distance. I had searched out similar stones in Britain in 1982 and was surprised to find them here...but of course, why not! Still a mystery. Standing with those stones is like moving into a different time. In another small town on the river we walked a park that was filled with large scultpures. The end of that evening found us in the city of Nantes.

We are now entering the Loire river valley. Chateaux/castles and wine. We traveled one small village after another. The same old charm but every village different. In front of one school the children had planted flowers to make a pattern in different squares, rectangles etc. And added pottery shards or slate shards in some of the sections. A lovely touch in the early spring. Done with the flair the French people have.

I have been using my camera a lot. My hunt is always for the old surfaces of walls, doors, streets. It has taken the place of picking up stones to paint. I am very excited about painting these. David takes the beautiful balance. Yummy photos that will look good to show all of you.

And then...we are in Angers with a new host friend, Merielle. As it turns out she is a friend of Yves as they both have positions in the French Servas. Merielle is the secretary. How cute is she! And full of thoughtfulness and laughter. She is a traveler and has filled her home with reminders. She does not miss a thing that might be helpful to us. She makes us meals. She gives us suggestions for travel. She introduces us to fabulous French singers then burns CDs for us! She makes way for me to work on the laptop. And she is full of interesting stories. On Friday she takes us into town on the bus (no. 12) and walks us through the most interesting places...shopping streets, wide squares, Contro makers building, small art exhibit, the city chateau, views of the river Maine and stairs and a bridge to cross it to a fabulous tapestry and fabric arts exhibitions where she left us to spend a few hours to enjoy it...making sure we knew our way home. The first display was permanent, showing the tapestry works of Jean-Lurcat. Le Chant du Monde...Song of the World. Started in 1957, it took 10 years to complete. It fills the walls of a huge room from top to bottom. The weaving seems impossible to portray such scenes. How do you paint with little threads on a loom? The theme is about the atrocities of War and then hope. The next building had some amazing pieces of weaving by three women. And some small pieces by women from all over the world. We are seeing such variety in art almost every day. The next day we went back into town to the Saturday market. We were cooking dinner for Mirielle and her daughter's family who came to meet us from another town. How fun it was to shop for dinner for eight. Finding the right vegetables, salmon and freshly made pasta, cheese and of course baguettes. And a little pastry snack for us! Then we went off to the castle. Half the fun is putting yourself into another age as if you lived there. We made it back “home” in time to start dinner before the family arrived. Wow what a great family. Sophie was brought up in the Servas tradition and has passed it along to her family...husband Oliver, and their three children. Camille, Max and Antoine. (I know that I do not have these French names spelled correctly!) The fun we had with all these dear people. They stayed the night and we all left after breakfast of croissants and homemade jams. Merielle sent us off with stew, cherry pastries, jam and our CDs. What a lady. And now we have another great friend in our lives.

You all must join Servas! As you can see, these contacts are making our trip so much more meaningful. The premise is...If you get to know people all over the world you will come to understand that we are all the same...that really, there is nothing to argue or war about. Since about 1985 David and I have hosted people from Switzerland, Germany, Britain, Australia and various places from the US. Some of these people we have welcomed two and three times in our home. Once you have joined you receive lists of members where you are planning a trip and you call or email and ask if the host is free to welcome you. Good food, good conversation, good bed...and new friends. It really is quite remarkable.

Since leaving Merielle yesterday morning we have been continuing our journey along the Loire River. We visited Chateau de Breze. Besides the rooms that the owners lived in we went into the jail/dungeon and into the bowels of the earth where the working village people who supported the castle lived. Some folks actually lived in rooms that were carved out of the stone with a few air vents coming in from above. We wound down staircases and lanes to the road that ringed the main buildings...the road being very deeply dug out. This was in place of a mote filled with water. There were underground stables, silk-worm farm, ice house, bakery, wine presses, barrel room and wine cellars. These chateaux were built by rich people of the time. They welcomed Kings and other important people. The valley was the place to live, to be seen and to show off. There are places like that now but circumstances were different then. They needed to be fortresses also. And the building material was different. I would think everyone was cold all the time! No wonder all the tights and layers of dresses. Stone cold!

Next stop. Fontevraud Abbey. This time the home of nuns and kings. A monastic city. Buried there are King Henry II, his wife Eleanor of Aquitaine and their son, Richard the Lion Hearted! Eleanor is the most interesting. She was a woman of power and culture...audacity and strength. And last night we found a lovely place to park by the fast moving wide river. Bateaux (boats) lined the shore “helter skelter”, long thin black boats some with sails, most with oars. A grassy trail led along the river for a long ways. This place was quiet, beautiful and all ours. When the morning sunshine came we watched two men row by in perfect rhythm...and two bicyclists race up the grass path. A fluffy cat came by for a session of petting. So a slow start this morning but we did manage another Chateau. This one was really just a beautiful large home...just enough furniture, paintings and wall hangings to get the right feel across. My favorite was the morning room.... happy colors, table set for tea...another for cards....and huge logs in the fireplace. The buildings are entirely surrounded by water and gardens. Also today, we drove to a wonderful panorama view of the country where the Loire and the Vienne rivers meet. All soft and beautiful and watery....but in the distance is a huge nuclear plant spouting billowing steam over the land. Tonight we are camped by the road near Villandry...another chateau. David and I are surprised that we are interested in these medieval movie star houses...but the architecture and decoration are smashing!

This morning, it is Tuesday March 13^th...Happy Birthday Gerry and Sheldon (Harry, if you see this will you send this on to Sheldon and send me his email address. Thanks!) We spent the morning in the Chateau Villandry. The gardens took us at leasst an hour. Organic and laid out as a French garden...geometric, flowers, shrubs, vegetables and an herb garden. Play area inside a hedge square. A grassy field hidden behind rows of trees. A long pool flowing into the other water areas where one beautiful swan added her beauty. Gardens on three different levels. Many, many gardeners and others working on tile floors and walls etc. Inside the Chateau such care had been taken to make us feel that we were in the 18^th century. A gas fire going in the drawing room, each room had furniture and paintings and photos of the family. Rugs and tapestries. Nursury, child's rooms, adult rooms and fresh flower displays. A truly lovely experience...and the birds sing and the sun shines. And as we said goodbye to a Frenchman, he said, “Be kind, be good and be careful.”

Some thoughts and observations:

> There are round balls of mistletoe in all the leafless spring trees. Quite a sight. And did I tell you that many trees have been planted in multiple rows with lots of space between...often used in squares and parks almost as sculptures....and maybe for wood lots but they don't seem to get cut. It is almost a game to check these rows on the straight and diagonal lines as we drive. They are tall and regal groves.

> We have our routines established now and continue to refine them. It is so helpful. Keep it simple.

> We finally decided on a coffee maker. Bought an espresso maker. Makes great coffee and is the easiest to clean.

> We have come across some double roundabouts which are mind boggling. Once we found ourselves stopped in the middle with a few cars facing us (coming at us?) from different directions. We haven' figured that one out yet.

> There are mostly newer small cars on the road and more choice to buy from.

> Eric, there is Scotch Broom here and lots of ivy growing up the trees....and the trees are all pruned to the nubbins.

France

On to the sea to small towns and Dunkirk. We were there only overnight and did some walking on the main streets and along the waterfront. High white chalk cliffs (like the white cliffs of Dover) on either end of the beach which provides the entrance to a big harbor. Now, I get to tell about the most satisfying days of successes. We were looking for 2 graves from WW1, The Great War....fallen soldiers from my McKee and Black families.

The first place we went to was a memorial in Ais Noulette, France. Here we found the grave of my mother's uncle, John McLean Black. He was a gunner, 318912 in the Canadian Field Artillery. Died on October 27th, 1917 at age 26. The tradition for this war was to bury the soldiers where they fell. John was born in Orillia, Ontario, Canada and enlisted in the war in Vancouver, B.C. There is a rose bush planted next to his grave. He had a girlfriend back home whom the Black family loved. Her name was Hannah. His sister Anna Louise (Lou, my grandmother) named her only son of six children, John Hannah Black who died in the next war. His story will be told when we reach England where he is buried. I wrote a note to John McLean Black...from his great niece, telling him about a few things that happened since he left us and that our family cared and would not forget... and put it into an envelope leaving it leaning against his gravestone. (Note to Peter, John and Lannie: Close by in the graveyard I came upon a headstone inscribed Private C.W. Bogardus, 675972, 2nd battalion Canadian Infantry, died April 12th, 1917. Any relation?)

David has taken pictures so it is archived. On the way to look for the second grave we stopped at Vimy Ridge., a most amazing memorial to the Canadians who fell there. The Germans and the Canadians were only 30 meters apart in bunkers and tunnels. The Germans held that important ridge from 1914 to 1918 when after much planning and practising the Canadians won the ridge, but not without the death of 3,600 boys. We took a tour through German and Canadian bunkers and an underground tunnel. On the day the Canadians broke through the lines, the men were sitting in the tunnel waiting in the mud and muck, being given whiskey and a hot meal. There were also primitive bedrooms for officers and runners and a communications room and a mess hall for officers. I felt like I was right with them. Almost in tears. We then went to the huge and powerful memorial sculpture which represented the Canadians and the French. This morning we found the grave of my grandmother's brother. A.S. MacKenzie. My brother Drew has his name, Sinclair. Andrew George Sinclair McKee. We were given all the information we needed from cousin Craig and Louise Stuart. Near a beautiful town on a hill, Monchy-le-Preux, is the Windmill British Cemetery. Information from Craig: " He was in the Canadian 3rd division in the 3rd Machine gun battalion and had made it through most of WW 1 before being killed August 28th, 1918.

Our grandmother, Elsie MacKenzie's sister Margaret, was with him when he died in a military forward hospital. She was a nurse serving overseas. She had qualified as a medical doctor along with four other Prince Edward Island females (quite remarkable back then!)." David and I saw Margaret's house...(locally known as the doctor's house) when we were on Prince Edward Island a few years ago. I also wrote a card to this great uncle in thanks and sadness for the life he did not get to live. All this searching and wandering has been much more successful than I imagined. Each cemetery is kept up well, financed by the commonwealth and Canadians. The paths are beautifully maintained as is the lawn around the headstones. There is always a register available so that you can find the soldier's grave. Quite impressive. The experience deeply impacted me. In the next few days ze zent to Le Treport, through Dieppe and into the country to small villages and lovely countryside.

I have learned to program the GPS for smaller towns that offer quiet beauty and interesting sites/sights. Most of the coastal towns have promenades along sea walls. All have fresh baggettes! In one of these towns I left my key in the car door! Luckily an honest person came by and put the key on top of a tire. Crossing a new white bridge over the Seine, we came to Honfleur. Don't miss this one. A city intact, unspoiled by bombs. Narrow streets to wander, colorful boats and sails in the harbor, peeked into a gallery filled with works of Jean Miro. Another is Deauville. Wealthy people in stunning old stone homes. Lovely sand beaches all along the coast: The same beaches of D-Day.

More to come on the D-Day beaches.

Just some general comments on other things:

> Our delicious meals consist of fresh bread, cucumbers and tomatoes, sausage, ham or other, cheese, fruit and wine of course. Seldom do we eat at a restaurant. There does not seem a need.

> We have come across some large gaudy outdoor malls with stores even bigger than ours and indoor malls just like ours.

>We are very happy to have our fold-down toilet with us! No one really knows what is going on inside this van!

> WE REALLY ARE HAVING AN AMAZING TIME! If ever we thought that we might be doing something stupid we were totally wrong. Nothing was ever so right!

Brugge (Broooshj), Belgium

A city center unchanged since at least the 13th century. We parked at the train station and walked into the heart, past the Lake of Love which is evidently the romantic place to go but it is winter and we are missing all the leaves of the trees and flowers. There are many swans here. The city has provided feeding spots along the lake and canals. The central area is filled with shops and shoppers. Belgium chocolate and Belgium lace. There are lots of horse drawn tourist carts. The horses are beautiful and you can hear their trotting cadence down the street and around the corner on the cobble stones. We found the art museum of course....more religious paintings and dark Dutch-like portraits which I might have seen enough of for the time being, but in the building next to it we discovered a most talented artist. Frank Brangwyn born in 1867. There was not a thing he could not do...and with so much power and certainty. He could draw well, and paint in tempura, watercolor, oil...and he was a master at printmaking- woodcuts, lithography and etching. This exhibit was worthwhile for both of us. We enjoyed all the city architecture, the narrow cobblestone walkways here and there...just snooping in the cracks and corners of of the old. Our next focus was to find a library and maybe wifi so back to the car to another end of the city...still old...but a place of everyday living. We have found that we can park quite comfortably within the cities...just off the commercial centers in the residential areas. We are just another car parked, but we have Washington State license plates which really throws people. They cannot believe what they are seeing. Sometimes we cannot believe it either! No wifi for us at the library. You have to be a member so McDonald's seems to be the best bet (which is where we are right now). When we park in cities overnight it is fun to watch all the action around us. The owned apartments are so different than what we are used to....all piled on top and next to each other. Lovely doors - and windows that always have a pretty curtain or flower display. We are in love with all the colors used here. Deep deep blues and greens.

We crossed the border into France at Sluis (Slice), Belgium...a pretty place but too many shops and shoppers. It seems a thing for the French to come across the border and shop in Belgium. We slept in a parking lot after getting a steep parking ticket for 55 euros!

Delft, Rotterdam and Ameida

After saying goodbye to our family in Amsterdam, we caught the lovely quiet train to Leiden, where we were just in time for the church service in the huge old Reformed Church. The service was held in a smaller (but large) chapel because heating the whole church is out of the question. Of course, we could not understand a word, but noticed both the minorah and bread and wine represented on the alter. The minister was very animated and we wished we could understand him. During coffee hour later we asked him to send us a copy on email, which he has done but we still need to translate it to english....haven't found the right button yet! Lots of talks with folks around coffee as they all speak English. It is so easy for us to be in the Netherlands because of that. After leaving the church, we discovered a great museum...Stedelijk Museum, a combination of history and art. Dutch painters, dutch tiles. Strolling along the main street we had our pick of lunch spots...Delifrance....where we ate savory French pastries. Back to the train as we had made reservations in a hotel in Delft.

We wound our way around construction and finally found our hotel. 3 nights on a small canal very in the old city. We took walks many times. To museums of course, (we have seen so much good art already). This is where Vermeer was born and died. He loved this city and stayed here to work. Also dipping in and out of shops. Modern furniture, kitchen, bakeries, fresh fish, cheese. There is a very nice tradition of providing a coupon for coffee and a treat each time we bought a ticket to a museum.

On to Rotterdam where we had a great experience with Corrie, our Servas host, actress; journalist, Reiki practioner and co-councillor...and rower. She lives in a lovely co-housing building and we took part a few times in happy hour with the other residents where we met her friends Bertus and Rea who took us on a walking tour of their neighborhood along with breakfast. We had a sleeping room with a bathroom. Corrie took such great care of us. Quite a fun and interesting lady. We became pretty close as we were there for about 5 days. She spent a day with us in the city... on the harbor tour boat for a few hours and barely made a dent in the vast harbor area and then to the city museum. Home on the tram. We actually got pretty good on the tram making our way to the art museum and hanging out in a wifi (weefee, is how everyone pronounces it) coffee shop. Not many of them around. McDonald's has become our wifi center...sitting out in the parking lots. A new appreciative relationship with McDonald's! One evening we went with Corrie to a special group she attends monthly. It is a spiritual group that embraces both the Jewish and Christian religions, formed as a result of the sadness around the Jews being taken from Holland during the war. Though the Netherlanders hid many (Ann Frank) there is always the question...Did we do enough? This meeting was Friday night Shabot. Candles lit. Litergy read. A meal together. Prayers and shared experiences. Our new friends were Leo, Joke, Hetti, Nel, Martin, Robert and Pezzi, a Mesianic Jew. The feeling of this group was so similar to our dear Sunbow group in the Seattle area, about which we shared. Corrie is an amazing driver! David called her Opel car the little "Curb Jumper". The evening before we were to leave, David and I made gorgonzola pasta for Corrie, Rea and Bertus, who brought his guitar and we sang American and Dutch songs and drank a little wine. Bertus volunteered to drive us to the port to pick up our camper the next morning as it would have taken us all day to use public transportation and even then we would have done a lot of walking and most certainly, would have been lost! Such good dear people. Our lives have certainly been enriched by their friendship.

Our next focus was to find Jory Verwolf, not too far away in Ameida, the legendary and magic village in Holland where David's Verwolf family is from. Jory has received many American Verwolfs! Ameida is a beautiful well kept village. It is mostly streets of very old buildings and where they expanded they carefully kept to the same village feel. We did find Jory looking out for us at the window of his pretty house. He was so very gracious. A very nice looking man about 55 years old with a wife, Elspeth and three grown children who have given them grandchildren (one brand new one whom Elspeth was away helping out with). They all live in Ameida and have for their whole lives. Jory says..."What more would I want?" He is so content and travel to anywhere is so close. Jory served his area for two terms as alderman and is very involved in his church (We were told it is in the "Bible belt" of the Netherlands). He and Elspeth were given land from her father where they built their simple cozy home which is beautifully painted inside with greys and white and tastefully decorated. After a long chat and lunch, Jory took us to the large old church he attends where we were shown David's grandfather John's name in the Baptism record book. Very meaningful. And in the cemetery we saw Verwolf names, the most recent of which was Jory's father. Home again for tea. Jory had found a tape in his father's things which David's father had sent. He played it for us. Just hearing his father's voice again was a gift, but when he started talking about his sons I could not hide the tears. We have that tape and will copy and share it with the Verwolf family when we get home. Thank you for everything Jory:

Some thoughts and observations:

> I am working on a keyboard that is not set up like I am used to... in the wrong place... period, comma, A, M, W, !, @ and more! As you can imagine, it slows me down a bit!

> Chris, we could not have made it to our destinations without the updated GPS. Though sometimes we would like to chuck it out the window! Thank you dear nephew.

> Jackie and Debbie, I saw a bunch of rabbit hutches built in "cute" styles, much the same as bird houses. A theme?

> We saw our first storks.

> We got a parking ticket for €55! Thought Bob Mostek might like to hear that!

> Our license plates from Washington State cause quite a sensation. I think we are pioneers in shipping our camper here for vacation!

> Driving can be exhausting as can navigating! It is easier in the countryside.

> We bought a phone but we really don't need it. Each country needs a new chip put in and your telephone number changes. We have more luck with the laptop but it is difficult to find wifi when we need it.

> Sleeping spots have been easy to find, usually free in the town center residence streets. In parking lots it is usually free between 7 pm and 9am