April 6, 1966
Dover
Dearest Mom and Dad,
As I keep saying, never a dull moment around here! Just as we were leaving this morning the mailman pushed a letter from a Flourtown friend through the mail slot with the news that none of our children got into Germantown Friends for next year. The school is small and full up, so few, if any, got in. Oh, well - I managed in the public schools, with some sweating when it came time for college. Remember? Who doesn't?
So we climbed into the car and spent 30 minutes trying to get through Blaby. That place looks the same as the day you were there last. If I were paying Blaby taxes, I'd be screaming - loudly!
Roger kept saying "What have we forgotten?" Then he realized that the speedometer wasn't saying a thing. "Hey, Dad," calls a little masculine voice over his shoulder as we're barrelling down the M-1 at God knows what speed, "We're not going anywhere!" For once we appreciated the advantage of not having speed limits!
Fortunately, we found a garage in
Canterbury that was willing to fix the speedometer while we went to the Cathedral. The sky had changed from pouring rain to bright sun and the temperature balmy - that old Walmsley luck on long trips! Let's hope it lasts!
The children really enjoyed
Canterbury. Ann and Julia remembered seeing "Becket" last spring, and Scott listened most attentively to the story with all its gory details. He was most appreciative of the spot where the murder occurred and the crypt where Henry was whipped - even the spot where the Becket shrine used to be. Scott's comment: "Henry VIII was a pig to take all those jewels so we couldn't see them!"
Our hotel in
Dover is right smack next to the ferry dock - a gorgeous spot over-looking the water with boats coming and going and sea gulls wheeling around overhead. The gulls nest up in the cliffs. What a fabulous view they must have from their roost! We had plenty of time ourselves to drive up and around the castle which sits on top of the hill on top of the cliff - the MOST fantastic spot. It is quite something - with the Union Jack flapping proudly in the breeze on top of it all!
The children really are getting to be awfully good travelers. They know the routine and don't fuss. They approach a cathedral or castle with interest and seem to really get something out of going around. I can't tell you how pleased we are. And each is so tickled to have his own suitcase, his own purse, etc., etc. They didn't squawk at all when we told them each was to keep a log of the journey. I hope it lasts. It ought to be RICH!
Must hie to bed. Tomorrow is a big day - I am going to
Europe! I shall be on The Continent! Roger's as cool as a cucumber - on the outside, at least. Perhaps he's too busy cramming important phrases-for-tourists-to-know in French, German, Italian, etc.! We'll say a little prayer for the Red Swan each morning - and then we'll just go-go-go and have a ball!
Wish you were here,
Love,
Mary
P.S. We passed another Red Swan today. Lucky the fellow couldn't hear us all cheering, "Sucker! Sucker! Sucker!"
* * * * *
April 8, 1966
Dearest Mom and Dad,
I have a few minutes before our first continental breakfast. We're in
Bastogne in THE hotel - very nice, small (compared to a big city hotel) and very quiet. As we drove through
Calais and Dunkerque yesterday, we saw almost no one - literally.
As we passed on into the Belgian coastal region, the place was crawling with people. Everyone was outdoors doing something, especially enjoying some fabulous bicycles for 2, 3, 4, or 6, which they pedal in the street as though it were a car - having a ball. As we got up into the hills and then the
Ardennes, we still saw many farmers out in their fields working with their gorgeous Belgian work-horses - perfectly beautiful country.
To go back to the flat country - that was most interesting and charming, too. We had a picnic lunch by a canal with our familiar friends, the skylarks, busily singing all around. We saw some thatched roofs that put the English to shame - fabulous.
I put in a bid for a W.C., so we pulled in to the corner of a gas station. I got out. The female attendant gave me a disgusted look and curtly said, "No petrol - no toilette!" So on we went, mile after mile, to empty the tank as quickly as possible so that I could empty mine. Who's idea was it to fill up to the brim before we left
Dover?!!
Breakfast time -
* * * * *
April 9th, 1966
Tubingen
Hi! -
It was a long drive from
Bastogne.
Belgium is very pleasant, but driving through
France is really depressing. One sees almost no people, and the buildings are in terrible condition. Then, suddenly, there is
Strasbourg, bright and busy. The customs place had some lovely flags flying, including both Stars and Stripes and the Union Jack. The
Rhine was lovely, and the countryside on the German side was filled with fruit trees in flower on the flats and vineyards like a patchwork quilt on the hills at the foot of the mountains. Ann said they looked like stained glass windows with all their different colors!
The climb up into the
Black Forest was as beautiful and dramatic as anything we've seen. Every single house along the valley (with its little stream tumbling around and downward) was different and adorable - each one painted with different colors and designed differently yet all within the "personality" of the locale - for miles and miles, up and up. It was really great. Why our camera has been "silent" I'll never know; we like buying postcards when they're available, but we haven't even seen any of them so far!
Once over the crest of those mountains, we rode along a plateau that was not very exciting for a while, but then we came into Freudenstadt, which is a perfectly charming, bright, crisp, bustling town - very, very up-to-date. Every one was out strolling, all spruced up because it was Good Friday afternoon. They might as well have been Easter Parading! It was lovely!
Easter Morning
Our visit with Bob and Lilian in
Tubingen was just perfect. The day had been a long one with much driving; but fortunately, the last half hour was spent literally chasing a most gorgeous rainbow into
Tubingen. The rain hadn't been heavy but enough to make everything dark in color with sparkles of light reflecting from drops as the bright sun hit it. The rainbow was perfect - complete and double! For a while the children really thought we'd catch it, but after many minutes of chasing with it always just over the next hill, I think they caught on!
Bob and Lilian treated us to dinner at a nice little restaurant in
Tubingen proper. They themselves actually live in an inn in a small village south by 6 miles or so - and had obtained rooms for us at the same inn right across the hall. Although their two girls are much younger (4 and 7), the children all played games together happily. It felt SO GOOD to be with American friends!
The trip over to
Munich was not a very exciting one on the autobahn - in fact, the surface of that road is NOT very good for a motorway type road ... but then, didn't
Cal make the same observation years and years ago?
Thanks to our "
Europe on $5 a Day," we found excellent lodgings, delightful places to eat ever-so-reasonably, and plan to attend high, sung, orchestrated mass at the Cathedral this morning and then go to the museum. It seems that Good Friday is THE holiday when everything is closed, but Easter and Easter Monday not so! Curious - does this mean Christianity without the Resurrection almost???
It's immediately apparent that the citizens of Munchen are a very happy lot! Such life! Such jollity! It's a joy to watch them - such a contrast from
England!
Must hie to another continental breakfast. If the coffee were Chock Full O'Nuts, it would be even lovelier! Bob went out at the crack of dawn yesterday to get fresh rolls baked only minutes earlier - that was a real treat!
Much love,
Mary
* * * * *
April 11th, 1966
Dearest Mom and Dad,
The days are so packed with impressions and the time for writing so limited that I can scarcely do more than outline the main points.
Easter dawned grey and very, very wet - in fact, a pouring rain such as we've seen only twice since we left the states. Actually, it felt good. We'd rather have a really wet rainy day with bright sun before and after than the endless gray drizzle we've been exposed to in
England.
We found the most delicious coffee right downstairs in the cafe by the hotel in
Munich and an American couple that were ever so nice! We feel sort of silly to be so starved for an American accent; I'm sure that there's no other corner of
England or the continent (beside
Leicester) with only one American family in residence. Around here they are everywhere. This couple sounded particularly appealing; his voice was not only invitingly warm and friendly, but his face was the picture of same to a tee. Their delight in discovering the delicious coffee was as great as ours. They've been on the road for two months (in Africa and Asia and
Europe) and hadn't had one as good the whole while! He's in Forestry at Idaho - has been doing a survey of reclamation of used land, said that there ARE techniques and ways of doing same but that the problem is a social one of convincing the people to accept it.
With such a good start, we headed off for the Cathedral - got there in time for standing-room-only but could still manage to see and hear quite well. The reconstruction of that building is really stunning and simple yet in keeping with the remains of the original building. The Cardinal was seated at the back of the chancel surrounded by acolytes and priests, choirs and orchestra. The colors were beautiful -the music, too.
On our way back to the hotel we stopped in the Michaelkirche, which was also performing something very Mozartian with full orchestra and choirs - the perfect setting, that rococo building!
The first part of the afternoon was spent at the
Nymphenburg
Palace - most exciting in contrast to the comparatively un-elaborate palaces in
England. Admittedly we haven't "done" Buckingham and the Royal Mews as yet, but this layout would be hard to beat for regal splendor and ostentation. We were all very impressed.
Then on for a brief stop at the Dachau Concentration Camp. Even though we avoided the grim details, the location itself is enough to awaken a picture of the reality. The homeward trip was busy with conversation of the "why's?" and the ramifications, particularly the role of every citizen of the world in seeing to it that there is no repeat - ever. It seemed to sharpen the children's concept of the direction of history - that was the gamble we took; we hope it was/is the result.
Dinner in the Ratskeller was a marvelous experience. Everyone in
Munich is so friendly and happy - and there are so many, many marvelous eating-spots with SO MUCH charm! Every meal was a great pleasure.
Monday we packed, checked out, and watched the fabulous clock at Marianplatz ... an absolute marvel. So many buttons to push and knobs to manipulate. All three went wild (with Mom and Dad right in there, too!) Sheer joy - pity it had to end, but we felt we must push on. We'd scratched
Salzburg from the itinerary as just plain too far out of the way and came down to
Innsbruck instead.
The road down from
Munich couldn't be easier - and the view more glorious. It had been a sunny, shirt-sleeve day all day, with tiny yellow primroses, white field daisies, and pink heather everywhere - the birch trees (and larch) a most delicate pale green against the deep, rich green of the tall, straight pines - clouds wafting among the peaks - the countryside studded with strollers taking their last stroll of the long Easter weekend. It was glorious. We were all on the edge of our seats the whole way - AND the camera was in action, too!
Innsbruck was more or less empty after a very busy holiday weekend; we passed them ALL returning to
Munich with skis on their cars! It is old, colorful, and looks inviting and lovely on a glorious spring day.
Our stay in
Innsbruck was entirely too short. We found the nicest accommodations to date for the best price to date plus the best food of all - AND Mozart himself used to live there! They've been opening their doors to travelers for over 500 years!
Unfortunately, the following day was a rainy one all the way to
Venice so that we never got the proper impression of the
Alps and Dolomites ... but you can't have perfect weather EVERY day! It was a long day of traveling but ended happily by getting rooms in our first choice of hotel.
Our first impression of
Venice was the noisy bustle. Everyone is going somewhere. They watch you, you watch them, and everyone enjoys the whole routine!
April 14th
We've done the most important things by now - ride on the ferry bus (Vaporetto), visit the Ca'd'Oro, the Guggenheim house, the Academia, the Basilica, Ducal Palace, walked the streets, had lunch outdoors in the warm, spring sun, etc., etc. Yes, bought a souvenir (shipped to you to keep for us until we return) - and now it's time to move on to
Florence. There are so many, many art treasures in the Academia alone that one gets saturated all too early and then just doesn't see it all properly. I've NEVER seen so much so beautifully displayed in all my life - usually one walks in and looks "at" the art; at the Academia the impression comes over you like a wave ... a big wave. MOST impressive - downright stimulating!
Love,
Mary
P.S. Please return any or all stamps for Scott's collection! Thank you - especially from the package.
* * * * *
April 21, 1966
Dear Mom and Dad,
We had heard so much of "the peace and quiet of Florence after the hustle and bustle of Venice" that, by the time we had "done" the Doges' Palace, gotten an express Vaporetto to the car park with all our luggage, and were sailing along the road to Florence, we were all agreed that Venice was a marvelous experience but "won't less hustle be good?" WHO ever said that???
Driving into
Florence alone was a nightmare. We can now understand easily what they're talking about when describing the traffic jams in Rome; you really have to be in one to fully understand, that's all there is to it! As in
Glasgow, a motor-cyclist spotted our foreign, hotel-seeking appearance and said "Follow me." We were ever so relieved - until he pulled up in front of the hotel where he works! It was a starred item in the AA Continental Handbook but not mentioned in $5-a-day. Nevertheless, Rog gave it a try, but they wouldn't come down in their rates, so we went our own way and ended up in a minimal pensione - very dark, up 81 stairs, LOUSY coffee - but cheap! About the only thing to say for the place was that the other half of breakfast, namely, the rolls, were delivered fresh and still warm from the oven every morning ten minutes before breakfast was served, and they really were delicious.
The less bright aspects of the"Pensione Sally" were easily offset later in the day by the 3 marvelous restaurants we found (thanks to $5-a-day) where we could get a prezzo fisso meal for 500 or 600 lire (80 to 95 cents) - delicious food with wine and service included! - and all within easy walking distance of the Duomo, in whose shadow our Pensione was located.
Roger and I felt disappointed with the Uffizi Gallery - too much crammed in each room with no dignity of display at all - particularly noticeable after the Ca'd'Oro and the Academia in Venice. Also, let's face it, there is a saturation point, and perhaps we were approaching same. The children were already verbal in their pronouncements of same; so Rog and I did much of
Florence by ourselves, leaving the younger three in a square chasing pigeons or playing games on some steps.
The highlight in
Florence was an early Sunday morning visit to the Museum where Michelangelo's David is displayed. It is breath-taking in itself, even more so in its setting. To first walk past several partly finished works giving dramatic insight into the working methods of a sculptor and then stand before this masterpiece is really a great, great, great experience. Even the children admitted they liked THAT!
After another lovely meal at Roberto's, we strolled up to the
Pitti
Palace. Such an ugly sight I've never seen! Unfortunately, it was closed so that we never did see the interior, which looks sumptuous from the photos - but we did spend the better part of the afternoon enjoying the sunshine in the
Boboli
Gardens. The view from that area is breathtakingly beautiful. Too bad the gardens are so terribly neglected ... Pitti!
The trip north from
Florence was as expected - smooth (gorgeous stretch of autostrada from
Florence to
Bologna), easy, not too short. The weather continued to be much the same as it had been everywhere since leaving
Leicester: 50 to 70 degrees, sunny or cloudy or rainy - take your pick - but by the half to whole day rather than by the hour.
We left
Florence in rain and drove into lovely sunshine up toward
Milan, so that the lake district near
Lake Maggiore was perfectly lovely, bathed in late afternoon sun ... palm trees, larch, pines, lilacs, tulips, forsythia, wisteria, azalea, even rhododendrum were all out along that shore! Quite a sight!
A dreary night spent in Domodossda was a necessary prelude to our climb into the
Alps. we had decided it might be best to spare the Red Swan any unnecessary strain and treat her to a train ride - good choice! To get on a car-train in one's own car and ride through a long tunnel, switch to another train in Brig and get in the front car so as to have the chance to watch the engineer drive us under the mountains - was a great treat AND a thrill. It really is incredible to think of even doing it, much less to pay only $12 for the whole bit!
There we were in Kanderstag! Just like that! The sky was still cloudy and sort of rainy, so we couldn't appreciate the height of the mountains nearby, but we COULD appreciate the fact that Adelboden was just down the next valley from Frutigen and well worth a visit, or so the G.S.U.S.A. members of the family felt! I fear Roger's enthusiasm dimmed with each successive climb because it really was wet and the visibility not too good. We missed the sign by the bridge and drove on up into the village, where we clearly realized we had missed it. Directions were given by a local who was certain we were loopy - not only is Our Chalet closed, but everything in sight is closed. It's decidedly OFF-season. But we persevered, found the turn and the bridge, and started UP. Poor old Red Swan just made it to the next to last perilous curve - fortunately near a "lay-by" - so we walked the last bit and joyfully exclaimed "'Made it!" upon arrival. (The men mumbled something equivalent to "Jolly good" in very low tones.) We then busied ourselves taking pictures so that there would be SOME evidence of our having achieved this goal.
Well, you'll never believe it, but it's absolutely true - positively - honest - the sun broke through the clouds and one by one the various mountains made their appearance! It was close to being too much. Roger ran from one end to the other taking pictures and shouting "It's GREAT - FAB!" So we plunked ourselves down right then and there and had a leisurely lunch of Italian salami sandwiches, red wine, and Chalet! Doesn't that make you absolutely DROOL with envy?!
We had to literally tear ourselves away from that spot so that we'd get to
Interlaken and Wilderswil early enough for a good booking, which we did. Roger and I left the children in the car in Wildersvil while we walked all over this adorable little village to find what we wanted: a pastoral setting with a fabulous view - within our budget. We got it!: two front balcony rooms looking straight up the valley to the
Jungfrau and Munch (the Eiger is just hidden to the left). The day was warm and sunny, birds and butterflies were everywhere, alpine flowers by the thousands - and no one but the natives plus 5 Walmsleys to enjoy it all! Heaven - sheer heaven after the noise and tempo of
Italy. We decided to stay for absolute days! The rest of that day was spent just looking and feeling. I suppose some would say we were drunk with the sight of it! So be it.
Then came a rude reality: two days of overcast and rain! We managed to drive up to Grindlewald and climb a mountain (marvelous experience, even though we thought we'd see a glacier for our efforts and got no more than a fabulous view) before the rain came. Then we left the children at the hotel (Ann being under the weather) while we scooted down to Brienz in search of their famous woodcarving. Such a disappointment! We saw tons of stuff produced for tourist consumption but nothing in any way resembling Art, such as one might find at Oberamegau.
This morning also dawned decidedly wet, so we drove down the lake to Thun to see the castle. Pity we couldn't see the surrounding mountains, but postcards give an excellent idea of what we missed!
This afternoon we drove to Lauterbrunnen and took a cable car and train to Murren - fantastic experience! We got no vistas due to clouds, yet it was absolutely thrilling because we rose right up the face of that mountain into snow and fog that was so thick and so silent as to resemble a dream. There was NO ONE around - truly. We may have seen a total of twelve people the entire afternoon, including the conductors! It's decidedly OFF-season, yet it's great. One almost feels as though it's all ours! If the sun would just come out!
April 24, 1966
It did come out, and we did go up to the Jungfraujoch. Snow having fallen for the past two days, the day couldn't have been brighter or more beautiful. The train ride up the mountain was one of the highlights of our stay in
Switzerland. Each bend produced an even more exciting view - and the great three, Eiger, Munch, and
Jungfrau, got bigger and more impressive. To arrive in Kleine Scheidegg and look at that north face of the Eiger so recently conquered - awesome - and then to think of that poor American chap tumbling down - well - .
The last leg of the journey to the top was frankly disappointing. Being off-season, the trains were infrequent, causing a 2-hour wait in Kleine Scheidegg; also Ann's strength was fast fading due to her recent illness, so we had to limit our stay at the top to less than an hour lest we miss the train and be stuck up there for another 3 hours. Most of the time spent was underground - oh, well - isn't it always (or nearly always) true that the highlights come in the least expected places?!
We returned to our yummy hotel and sat on our balcony looking up at it all and agreed that we really belong at the bottom. Let's face it, we're Gulch Guys!
* * * * *
May 2nd, 1966
Dearest Mom and Dad,
Once over the border there is no mistaking the fact that one is in France - very few people in sight and it's ever so depressing in appearance. We had with us a booklet listing "logis et auberges" where one might want to stay to save francs. We spotted a few as we drove along, but it was hard to believe that anyone would even consider stopping for gas in the village where they were located. As it was, we had difficulty in finding an AA approved (no stars at all) hotel which we could afford and which we'd even consider - but we did. Scott called it "spooky" and even went so far as to ask his Dad if we'd have to "live like pigs the whole time we were in
France"! It wasn't all that bad and the food was delicious, but the spooky-bit wasn't too far wrong!
In any case - on to
Paris. "I love
Paris in the springtime" ...(that's a song!) Also "April in
Paris" ... (another song). We were there - and it is, indeed, a lovely city to look at. Such a contrast to the countryside! Every building looks smart and well-kept. People are bustling about everywhere. We found some adequate accommodations near the
Luxembourg
Gardens in a quiet, residential part of the city that really was very nice. We found a parking space on the street in front, and there we left the Red Swan, intending to pursue all expeditions on foot.
Having arrived at noon on Sunday, we set out for Le Louvre that afternoon (it's free on Sundays). So did everyone else in
Paris! It was mobbed. It may have influenced our impression a bit, but we felt the same reactions to the Uffizi Galleries in
Florence - tons and tons of "stuff" (not all masterpieces by a long shot) hung in a not-very-inspired way AT ALL. The day is going to have to come when someone sorts out these galleries and gets rid of the lesser works. There's no substitute for the impact made by seeing one masterpiece beautifully displayed. Even dear Mona Lisa is just another amid a long, long line of portraits - although she is lovely, there's no doubt about it! Annie stared at her in fascination for a long, long while.
After Sunday's downpour, Monday dawned crystal clear. We made our way to Les Invalides - such a handsome place - and the Dome with Napoleon's tomb. How can words adequately express one's reaction to the loveliness of such a place, the coloring due to only blue glass in the windows followed by yellow windows behind the altar - and that noble mass of marble for a tomb. It's so much and yet is almost solely dedicated to La Gloire (with God and Christ taking a back seat in a supposedly very Catholic country). It's a strange feeling.
The afternoon was spent at the
Rodin
Museum nearby, which turned out to be one of the high spots. After having sought out Michelangelo's works in
Florence and marvelled at his artistry, it was even more exciting to visit this one place which used to be Rodin's studio and to see so much of his work about - the practice pieces as well as the finished works of art. We were thrilled with it all. He was a great! Scott and Ann went ahead of us on their own, walking around each work and looking at it from every conceivable angle, talking about it, and enjoying themselves thoroughly. Julia went more slowly but absorbed a great deal - all a most fascinating experience.
On the way home we stopped at Place Des Vosges where Victor Hugo used to live. Such a quaint place - all uniformly Renaissance due to its being built by Henry IV. The
Hugo
Museum was fascinating, too. I never knew he had been so politically active nor that he was such an accomplished artist nor that he was such a family man. His paintings seemed weird, moody, somber, morose. Ann's and Scott's attention was rivetted out the window overlooking a courtyard where a girls' school was having gym class - we couldn't pull them away! Oh, so many things to see - and which are more important?!
Tuesday being the day when most museums are closed in
Paris, we made that our excursion-to-Versailles day. It was another gorgeous day. We packed a lunch, and off we went. In approaching one is both overwhelmed by the size and disappointed by its lack of architectural beauty. The interior is really something to see - it's incredible to think of people getting away with such extravagance for as long as they did, no more so in
France than any other place, however.
After "doing" the palace we found a perfect spot in the gardens where we enjoyed our lunch - had to pay 4 cents a chair for sitting down, though! French gardens do, indeed, have a unique appearance as a result of their method or style of pruning their trees. I don't know that I like it, but I can't deny there's a unique and pleasing effect.
The
Eiffel
Tower was climbed by five Walmsleys (to the 2nd stage only) on Tuesday afternoon, April 26, 1966. The sun was shining but visibility was not too good, so we felt that it would be silly to go all the way up when you couldn't see any more anyway. I suggested that I'd be willing to not climb the Eiffel and save my francs for a boat ride. The idea caught, and that's why and how we also got a 1 1/2 hour trip up and down the river. Unfortunately, the spring floods had the water just high enough to make it unsafe for the excursion boats to go under the old bridges of the city, so we never did go around the oldest part of the city by boat. It was thoroughly enjoyable nevertheless - a most welcome rest after our climb!
Wednesday we went to the Cite by metro to see the Conciergerie, Sainte Chapelle, and Notre Dame. Another clear, spring day - lovely. (I understand there's snow and sleet in
England, tra-la!) The Conciergerie was disappointing in that the guide spoke no English - which is certainly no offense, if only there had been some printed material available in English. There was none, so all but one (Roger) in the entire group went along not understanding a word. Even he caught a word only every now and then (as did Julie - good girl!), but we all felt we'd missed out on a great deal. Once again, however, - hooray for postcards to fill in what you're missing! Gorgeous sketches of Marie Antoinette, hair having been shaven, standing erect in the tumbrel to be carted to execution - or of the fellow showing the crowd the head still dripping. Lovely. Oh, well . . .
On to Sainte Chapelle - a treasure of stained-glass windows. Ann, fascinated by the little stairs St. Louis ran up and down to show people the relics, was very disappointed that she would not be allowed a turn!
As we approached Notre Dame, we happened on an artist making an ink-sketch. The children were at once fascinated and begged us to run along and 'do' the cathedral - "We'll stay right here." We did, but after an initial look/see, we returned and insisted that they make a quick once-around (which they do well - REAL quick!), hoping that the impact would hit them, too. It did (a bit), but they were still preoccupied with the artist and his sketch. Annie turned to Roger, gave him ever such a sweet kiss, and said, "Daddy, can we buy it???" Thence proceeded a family "discussion," which the children won, I'm afraid. So Roger approached the artist and, in his best French, inquired as to whether or not the work was for sale -
Hesitation - "Oui" -
And again in Roger's best French, "How much are you asking, Monsieur?" -
Again a hesitation (plus a strange facial expression) - "20 francs."
Roger produces same, the artist signs his work illegibly on both front and back, and we leave, all three children skipping and singing happily! I'm convinced that man was English, didn't speak a word of French, and was trying SO hard not to laugh!
The afternoon was devoted to Place de la Concorde and a stroll up the Champs Elysees to the accompaniment of verbal complaints from Scott, to which we replied "We simply HAVE to walk the
Champs Elysees. You can sit down all day tomorrow in the car!"
That avenue/boulevard was a HUGE disappointment with its billboards and Americanization. I think it's a shame when any zoning board lets a place get run over like that. We weren't at all charmed by it and don't care if we never see it again. Arc de Triomphe is there at the top - jolly good - more Gloire. We were tired. We'd DONE
Paris in 3 1/2 days. It was time to move along.
But there was just one more effort to go - dinner. Early in our Paris stay we had followed some more good advice in "$5-a-day" and had dined at the Rotisserie du Pantheon - a pleasant walk from our hotel through the Luxembourg Gardens and up the hill to the Pantheon (whose interior we never saw - more Gloire, 'though). This delightful restaurant had a glassed-in front porch out onto the sidewalk. The first night we were there we met a young American who was in
Paris for a month or so before going on to
Rome - nice lad, full of friendliness, who delighted in conversing with the waitress in French. Both he and the waitress made the evening meal one of the most pleasant to date.
The following night the children requested a return to the same place; we could hardly refuse! The food had been good (although with a prix fixe one doesn't get the superb French cuisine - it's just very, very good!) and the atmosphere the one spot of warmth and friendliness we'd found in
Paris. We were not disappointed. Although our American friend wasn't there, the waitress was as much fun as the night before.
Our last night in
Paris found us returning once again for the same reason, and both were there - waitress and American. The kids were delighted! During the course of the meal the waitress asked the children their names. Later on she asked Ann if she would write to her. Roger and I then realized that not only had she captured our hearts but that we (Ann in particular) had captured hers. In an off-moment she mentioned to Roger that she could easily fall for little boys but they grow up and go to war, that she had lost two in the war, her husband and a little girl just like Ann. As we were leaving, we asked for her address, which she carefully wrote out and gave to Ann. Then she shook my hand warmly and said, " Au revoir, Madame," shook Roger's hand, "Au revoir, Monsieur," shook Scott and Julie's hands, and embraced Ann warmly. It was very touching - so much so that we all left feeling on top of the world, forgetting all about the miles and miles of walking and climbing that had weighed so heavily on us before dinner!
En route to Cherbourg we stopped at Chartre for a quick peek at the beautiful, beautiful cathedral (like an even bigger and more gorgeous Sainte Chapelle) - an overnight in Bayeux so that we'd have time for the Cathedral (the impact of those Norman columns backed by Gothic was another high point for Roger and me) as well as the tapestry. The latter was a pleasant surprise for us all.
The only reason we went via
Cherbourg was for the tapestry and
Mont St. Michel (which we scratched for lack of time). The tapestry was even better than I'd expected. Thanks to the off-season, we had the room all to ourselves plus earphones for each to guide us with an oral description in our native tongue as we strolled along and looked at it. It was so good that we went through twice! Even after that we all just lingered, staring at first this scene and then that one. The colors are still SO bright, the pictures delightful, the story fascinating. Needless to say, we'd found another TREASURE in an unexpected spot!
Then we were off on the last leg of the trip. While driving down to Arromanches, we drove into the most fascinating fog bank. It came suddenly and completely covered the sun. As we neared the water, we could see little except a few boats pulled up to the high tide mark and two nuns walking toward the water. We got out to walk - like the nuns. It being low tide, we walked and walked in the fog, following the sound of the waves. Suddenly there appeared before us a huge hulk, a 25-year-old temporary platform or dock, left as it was, now slowly falling apart. Fog enshrouded, it was eerie. The nuns were still just barely in sight and chatting happily. The children kept on until they reached the water; then we returned to the car and proceeded toward
Omaha.
We left the fog as dramatically as we had entered it! (In the fields fog was rising above the earth which had just been plowed but not a sign of it over the rest of the field!)
We decided to eat our lunch on
Omaha
Beach. It is such a beautiful place! - delicately fine sand, clear blue sky, and the cliffs of Arromanches and
Utah
Beach in the distance. We could see the fog bank, too, although the sky above us was crystal clear. In the water were remnants of landing craft, over the crest of the hill the top of the American Memorial. Otherwise it was just like Lobsterville but with far better sand, a much wider beach, and more greenery. Really lovely, but a bitch-kitty of a spot to have to conquer. You'd have to wade a mile to get ashore - and yet so beautiful!
We stopped for a brief visit at the Memorial on the crest of the hill - brief, that was, because Ann and Scott were mislaid and the ferryboat was to leave at 4:30! The Memorial has 107.9 acres - to that we attest! It turned out that they had gone back down to the beach. Let's face it, they love the seashore!
We made the boat, had an exceptionally smooth ride and a good night's rest in
Winchester - and home again, home again, jiggety-jog!
Much love,
Mary
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