April 2nd

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April 2nd

Amazingly we were on the bus at 6:40am - 5 minutes ahead of time, on our way to the train station to take the TGV to Paris. As we were getting settled on the platform waiting for the train, our guide started yelling to go back to the bus!! We were at the WRONG train station! So all 69 of us (70 with guide) ran with our luggage, back to the buses we had just disembarked from. It was raining and dark, making it a tad miserable. Everyone was great though and I think it was only minutes before we were loaded back up on the buses, heading BACK the same way we came. Thankfully, the bus drivers were close by and arrived back at the parked buses just seconds after we got there. For a fleeting moment I thought maybe the drivers went for coffee. Thankfully, Eduardo our guide had a cell phone and was calling them as we hoofed it back to the parking lot. I became a little concerned when I recognized the road back to the hotel, then saw the wall to the city. Had Eduardo told the bus drivers to go back to the hotel? Did someone misunderstand? Instead of turning left back into the old city, behind the protective walls, we turned right, into what was another train station. We could actually see the hotel from this second station we visited, all before 7:20 am. I’m glad I wasn’t in charge! I was curious to know what time the train was departing at, but we were told at the previous night’s “head count” that was not an important detail we needed to know when a student had asked the question. Hmmm… not all of us are 14 years old. At the moment, it seemed like a very important detail to me.

Important Note: In order for an adult traveler to be happy and enjoy themselves on a school trip, they have to be prepared to relinquish any and all control to the group leaders and accept teachers may sometimes have a difficult time taking off their teacher hats when talking with the adults. This burned me up a few times when I would be spoken to like a student (as were other parents), of which probably diminished the trip for me. I too felt there were many times a couple of the teachers in our group did not show an appropriate level of respect and consideration to their students, talking down to them in a demoralizing manner I felt was unnecessary. But who am I to judge? I’m not a teacher and teachers have very challenging jobs.

Important Note 2: Our domineering teachers are balanced by several terrific teachers who I am truly grateful for meeting and spending time with and feel completely privileged and honoured to have them be teaching my child. They are TRULY gifted at the teaching craft. These teachers made this trip all worthwhile to me. THANK YOU!

When I pondered my curiosity to my roommate, she told me the train would b e there at 7:50 am. As I asked her how she found out, tongue in cheek, she told me she’d have to kill me if she told me. 😊

So now in the train station that we could have walked to, I was worried we were stil in the wrong spot when I wasn’t seeing the TGV trains. Thankfully, I saw our train scheduled to depart at 7:55 am, and was identified with the TGV. Phew!

Since the whole morning was quite a fiasco, on the platform I was hoping we didn’t have to scramble across the tracks to get the train if someone realized we were on the wrong platform. The whole plan the teachers developed to expedite the boarding of 70 people (half of whom were 12 - 15 year olds), and all the luggage within the 3 minutes we had to board was a complete waste of time. In the end, when the train arrived, thankfully ALL the kids were good spirited and the adults were acclimatized to the chain of command and going with the flow, it all ended with no casualties. We probably took an extra two minutes to board and had to disperse the luggage where we could and we settled in comfortably for our return trip to the cit of LOVE!

At this moment, I was VERY thankful for the airline changes to baggage - 1 piece of checked luggage because if we had to deal with 2, we would have all been screwed!

The landscape from northern France to southern is varied but you wouldn’t really notice it if you weren’t paying close attention. The vineyards and orchards of Provence slowly regressed to small fields; meadows divided by hedges and stands of trees, small, hilly farms of cattle and sheep. North of Paris the landscape looked more like our prairie home with massive flat and gently rolling agricultural fields. The eastern flank of what I could see in southern France was hedged by mountains in the distance and out of my vision, the Alps to the north east.

The cattle are the same colour as the dirt. The dirt is a very creamy latte colour. I did see some cows that had splotches of milk chocolate colouring on their creamy bodies as well. At a distance, it appeared as though some of these cows were suffering from a depressed economy as they looked gaunt and bony to me. Not what I would have expected from a progressive, modern G20 country. However, maybe it was just the breed of cows. I am not a cow girl by any stretch of the imagination.

Braydon is adjusting to the French cuisine and managing his diet OK, I think, supplementing it with gobs of candy. He is enjoying the baguettes, but eating more bread than he really should be. He is also enjoying the relatively inexpensive price tag that goes along with them. Everything, as he is learning, is expensive compared to what we are used to back home.

He made his formula both evenings in Avignon without me having to bug him. This is a huge step in the right direction for him. Settling into the Parisian hotel, I felt more confident that he would be OK. He is also utilizing the low protein bars and pills when he doesn’t have the formula to drink. I can tell by our discussions at this point, he had everything under control. I just wonder if he is cleaning the containers very well. Ewww. I made sure I packed dish soap in his suitcase so he has no excuse for not cleaning them. I remember trying to clean them with bar soap or shampoo when we were in Florida. Didn’t work out so well.

As we headed to Paris, the clouds and rain fizzled away and blue sky predominated. It seemed like one moment we were in the country then only minutes in the suburbs, then we were gathering our things preparing to depart the train. It was misleading on the train as to where we were as the train station was very large and covered/semi enclosed. It was magnificent! I felt like I was n the Harry Potter movie, although this feeling was certainly not the first time on the trip.

We immediately boarded tour busses and began a tour of the city. I honestly felt completely awed by this experience and so very glad I was on a bus driven by someone who wasn’t scared to death. From the bus, I loved this city. It was breathtaking, crazy busy and full of order amongst the incredible chaos.

I felt very, very inadequate and embarrassed at my poor French language skills. Many of the teachers and adult chaperones spoke fluently, for which I was so very grateful.

It is funny to see all the Parisian’s in winter coats! They must think I am crazy in my short sleeves and capris. The weather was so beautiful and such a pleasant temp (19 deg. Celcius), much too warm for down jackets in my opinion. Only a gentle breeze and full sun, making it a very pretty April Paris day.

The city is divided into 20 sections, all governed by associate mayors, answering up to one head mayor. The city goes on and on with gazillions of 100 year plus old buildings of about 5 - 8 story’s tall. The architecture is breathtaking but that is nothing compared to the Napoleon and other amazing monuments of this crazy cosmo city. Friggit! If I could only speak the language! I guess though, that holds more mystique for me.

One thing I’m glad for in an odd way is that I don’t have to be my polite self. When walking I don’t hae to feel bad for not smiling at people, or cutting someone off, where if I was at home, I would smile and never intentionally cut someone off. Maybe I have been devoured by the energy of the city. Maybe I should be polite and try to impact the “force” that exists here. Unfortunately, it is powerful and I’m on vacation. So, it will have to wait for another time. Meanwhile, I’ll do as the Parisian’s do.

This blog is not going to tell you all about the sites of Paris because there are a million and one places to read about, all a heck of a lot better than I could ever write about. I would probably embarrass myself at the poor spelling and description enough to be banned from ever entering Paris again! I want to share with you my experiences and appreciations of this trip (and maybe a disappointment here and there). One thing, I certainly enjoyed the cheap beer and wine prices of Avignon over Paris, that is for certain.

I simply cannot get over the long winter coats people are wearing! Hell, it is 20 deg Celsius! I wonder if they dress like that in their homes or if they have the heat cranked to 50 deg. Celsius!

So I tried to use some travelers cheques to buy my baguette at lunch on this day. No luck. They directed me to a bank. Braydon and I broke from the group to investigate. The girl at the reception desk of this friggin huge bank told us to go to the next door down. We did. Then, that girl told us to go back to the door we came out of , go past the girl at the reception desk, on to the tellers at the end. We did. Then, at the other side of this unbelievable bank, the lady told us to go down the street, take a left, then a right. Nope. Sorry. Braydon and I stepped out onto the street to a 6 way intersection and knew we were being played with. Ha ha, funny. Not today. Not today for getting travelers cheques cashed either apparently. Meanwhile, we wasted our “lunch hour” traipsing through a tiny teeny few blocks looking for the bank only to come up short, without any cash. Defeated, we walked back to where Lori and her son so graciously waited for us. Thankfully, she loaned me 20 Euros to buy lunch, returned to her once back on the bus where my backpack held the last bit of cash I had. My travelers cheques were even in Euros so not like trying to change from one currency to the other. I didn’t understand why it was so complex, but this was Paris we were talking about. (It cost me about 8 Euros for my baguette and drink - roughly $15 CDN).

Our hotel was really, really new. Nice but very small rooms. My roommate Tracee commented how the rooms were smaller than the berth she had on her cruise.

I penned this portion of this log on the ground level patio of the hotel that sits on the bank of the canal, connecting to the Seine River, with a fantastic stretch of walkway and recreational area. Enjoying the last drops of another Heineken, the sun is sinking below the buildings and was time for me to see when the group was meeting to depart for dinner. I was getting a little chilled in my t-shirt so thought to grab a jacket as well.

Dinner was at a little Italian restaurant about a 20 minute walk along the canal from the hotel. It was in a part of town called Lafayette. Our hotel was situated near the Riquet metro stop. Fun times. The canal was really nice with lots of people walking, jogging, playing and fishing.

After dinner we went for a walk to Basilica Sacre-Coeur and Montmartre. This walk actually turned out to be quite a fiasco. The guide got a little lost and our 20 minute walk from the restaurant turned into a 2 hour exhausting walk through a nasty part of Paris. I’m not sure how much of the walk was supposed to be actually 20 minutes compared to the getting lost time. I’m starting to understand the French tell you what you want to hear more than necessarily telling you straight up the way it is. I’m such a straight shooter, I can’t stand this way of dealing with things.

Although the walk was long, it was fun when we arrived. I wished we had more time in Montmartre though. It was fascinating and very artistic indeed. There was of course tons of people, some playing music, singing and as I found out later some were doing drugs in plain sight, which freaked out some of the kids. We were very safe in a group of about 50 people though so never once did I feel we were in any kind of danger. Additionally, there were young and old alike visiting the Basilica, all with varying backgrounds and nationalities, mashed together experiencing a wonderful, crazy spectacle.

Some of our kids were upset about the long walk, well I think I can safely say most of us were none too pleased about it, and we were all tired and cranky. In addition to all the walking, there were dozens of stairs to climb to get to the top, all of us huffing and puffing getting a good workout. Those that were not able to enjoy the fruits of climbing the stairs could buy a ticket to take the tram up. We were set to take a tour of the inside of the Basilica when unfortunately it closed.

Although we were a big group, mainly of kids 12 - 14 years old, the teachers had a very good method of organizing, head counting and managing the group so no one got lost or left behind. The kids certainly had to be aware and paying attention during our treks through the metro maze and crowded streets, staying with the group and at the same time not getting mowed down by cars. In France pedestrians do not have the right away - and you better be careful even when the sign says “walk” because not all cars obey the traffic signals and are not mindful of people crossing the streets.

In all the chaotic scramble of cars and people, I never once saw any traffic accidents or pedestrian injuries. This to me is nothing short of a miracle!

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