tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44340991720391368382024-03-13T22:59:43.572+01:00Have genes will travelUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger917125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-85586595841640234192019-09-11T07:42:00.000+02:002019-09-11T07:42:49.811+02:00Tuesday, September 11<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In the
morning we join the other guests and the large orange cat on the terrace for
breakfast. This cat is as big as my two cats together. Why do I end up with all
the shrimpy ones? Mr Orange takes his time making the rounds, sniffing what’s
being offered, then goes off to sun by the pool.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What to do
today, what to do?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There’s
walking around. No, too much walking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There’s
driving around. No, too much being in the car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There’s
windsurfing. No, not enough wind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There’s
swimming. Mmm…<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There's kissing.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Oh yes, let's have some.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There’s
biking. They have electric bikes for rent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Yeah, we
could try that. Let’s give it a go. There’s a trail along the waterfront that
gets us to a lighthouse, and from there we can go on, or turn around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We barely
get going before I’ve just got to stop and look at all the birds having their
breakfast in the estuary. Oh, and here’s some more. And look! Flamingos right
close to the path! At this rate it’ll take all morning to get to this
lighthouse. But whatever, that’s what we’re here for.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-81M6OETu6tI/XW1SAEhEkEI/AAAAAAAAJrg/qsDlWjb5YmU80kDynIKINoWW11C4NIS-ACLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07609.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-81M6OETu6tI/XW1SAEhEkEI/AAAAAAAAJrg/qsDlWjb5YmU80kDynIKINoWW11C4NIS-ACLcBGAs/s400/DSC07609.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--Z1KT0o5EHg/XW1SShvLf_I/AAAAAAAAJro/LLDNDz8mlWoZ4QqFcIbC3G4j9uZxBuOIQCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07645.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--Z1KT0o5EHg/XW1SShvLf_I/AAAAAAAAJro/LLDNDz8mlWoZ4QqFcIbC3G4j9uZxBuOIQCLcBGAs/s400/DSC07645.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">So we pedal
along, and stop, and pedal. We don’t meet up with too many people at first, but
the path gets more crowded as the day goes on. In full tourist season, this
must be terribly congested, as it’s the only path in this direction. In spots
the wind has built sand dunes across the path. Most of these are small enough
to get through on the bike, but some are wide and/or deep enough that you can’t
pedal through, you can’t coast through, you just have to get down and walk.
Sometimes you think you can get through, and you turn out to be wrong just a
few feet from the edge.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uiEjR3LwcNk/XW1r195ih6I/AAAAAAAAJsM/9sOntMwjOJ8PWR71hTWJoy9zcMC9S886QCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07654.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uiEjR3LwcNk/XW1r195ih6I/AAAAAAAAJsM/9sOntMwjOJ8PWR71hTWJoy9zcMC9S886QCLcBGAs/s400/DSC07654.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He’s having
a ball here on the electric bike. No effort at all!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re perfect for biking with somebody who
doesn’t pedal at the same speed – I’ve not used the motor at all, and he has
his on the lowest setting, and that way we advance at the same pace.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tONN298H9aA/XW1S834OIeI/AAAAAAAAJsA/08Xc3-Pa1VwhAJuooTIEODe50XURvVYBgCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07663.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tONN298H9aA/XW1S834OIeI/AAAAAAAAJsA/08Xc3-Pa1VwhAJuooTIEODe50XURvVYBgCLcBGAs/s400/DSC07663.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Oh, look!
Flamingos! While I’m getting just the right angle on the birds, JP phones his
brother. Gotta share how fabulous electric bikes are, he didn’t believe they
could be so great, he’s going to get one instantly when we get home. First
thing! He must have one!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ST0xtYwWkmQ/XW1Srvb0fdI/AAAAAAAAJr0/2ayaXAXGvtUdp9EZkWovWVg0fbtN2PamwCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ST0xtYwWkmQ/XW1Srvb0fdI/AAAAAAAAJr0/2ayaXAXGvtUdp9EZkWovWVg0fbtN2PamwCLcBGAs/s400/DSC07652.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Then we
come to a stretch where there are a lot of sand dunes reaching across the path.
It’s annoying to have to walk the bike just a few meters so frequently, and we
both test the limits on how deep it has to be before you should just give up.
Sometimes you know it’s too deep, but it’s not very far across, maybe you can
just power through… It’s at one of those, short but deep, where JP gathers
speed before hitting the sand, and he gets most of the way across but not
quite. He goes down on a knee, laughing, no harm done but sand everywhere. He
pulls the bike to the side to let a group of people pass us, and phones his
other brother. Having too much fun not to share it with everyone.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4-t0OzKBUl4/XW1sFEWJmNI/AAAAAAAAJsQ/o4Rzebep3TYnV_h0y-wFGtogRbKjFhRDQCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07655.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4-t0OzKBUl4/XW1sFEWJmNI/AAAAAAAAJsQ/o4Rzebep3TYnV_h0y-wFGtogRbKjFhRDQCLcBGAs/s400/DSC07655.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We get to
the Gacholle lighthouse sometime after 11. Both the lighthouse and the snack
stand around the back are closed, though there is a small crowd hanging around.
I think I’m not the only one who was hoping there would be snackage and cold
beverages available, because it’s getting pretty hot out. Or that you could go
in, and climb up the tower to get an exceptional aerial view of this super-flat
area of salt marshes, islands and beaches. It would be cool to get some
perspective on the place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Speaking of
perspectives, we could go on and hope that lunch will not be too many
kilometers farther (a few kilometers, but not too many). We are not yet halfway
to the other end of this trail, and who knows how much farther to an eatery. Or
we could turn around. Our stomachs are very important body parts, so naturally
we turn around.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Back in
Saintes, we are wandering through the pedestrian district of town, glancing at
all the souvenir shops and looking for a nice place for lunch, when JP stops to
talk to a fortune teller. These women are everywhere, begging to read your
palm, desperate to tell you your future. I just blow them off, but JP lets
himself get caught. Alright. I’ll just go on and see if there are any original
shops around, and what looks good to eat.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Most of the
shops are utterly predictable, part of a chain where you can buy the same goods
anywhere you go. Some nice, some just made-in-China crap. I’d like to see some
original art, or clothing, but there isn’t much of interest. The most promising
boutiques are closed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">JP is still
occupied with his gypsy, so I check out the eateries. Seafood? Or steak? Beef
from the local bulls (not steers) is a specialty, and I quite liked it on a
previous trip south. I pick a place kind of at random, where it’s just as well
that the tables on the terrace are already occupied – eating indoors at least
you’re away from the cigarette smoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The gypsy
is still at it, but JP finally gives her a 20 and breaks off. He’s looking
pensive but won’t tell me anything other than he’s meant to lead a long life.
Like all the other times he’s had his fortune done. I wonder what on earth she
had to say that took so long, and had such a sobering effect.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Lunch is
nice, nothing to rave about. Crispy fries, too much dressing on the salad, tender
beef. They have a sort of pineapple-yogurt thing for the dessert of the day,
and JP has it. I don’t think it sounds like a happy combination, so I stick
with lemon sorbet. We probably should have skipped dessert altogether. Why are
they so big?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">On our way
back to the bikes JP gets distracted by one of the menswear shops. They have a
vast collection of “Gardian” shirts in the striking floral patterns typical of
the region. Not big flowers like Hawaiian shirts, but small, even tiny ones.
Sometimes you have to look closer just to tell they’re flowers at all. I quite
like some of them, but not the same ones as JP. The best one we both like, they
don’t have in his size, ditto for the second-favorite, so he gets the one he
likes. Dark blue on white. And a casual jacket with that, even though it’s
going to be a while before he needs one. Then we pedal to the hotel for a nap.
Next time I promise to skip dessert.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Around 4 I
snap my book shut and accept his suggestion that we go out for another spin,
this time on the other side of town. And the bird sanctuary a stone’s throw up
the road should be interesting as the sun gets lower.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There ought
to be a path going around the big pond on the western side of the town, but we
can’t seem to find anything but driveways to people’s vacation homes. Though
that may be right, the path may exit out the back of one of these properties.
As we make another U-turn, JP suddenly throws his bike aside and vomits into
the ditch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I wish I
had a bottle of water with me, but the best I have is a package of tissues. You
ok? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Yes, yes,
fine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You don’t
look so fine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It’s
nothing, just didn’t digest that yogurt at lunch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Let’s sit
down here for a while.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Really,
it’s ok. I’ll just go back to the room and lie down for a while. You go on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">You sure?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Sure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I know how
he hates for me to hover around when he’s not feeling well. It’s not the first
time he’s had this sudden nausea, and after a lie-down he’ll be fine. It
happened once after a bridge tournament in Vichy, much to the surprise of
passers-by. Then, as now, he got pretty pale for a couple of minutes, but then
it was over. So I watch as he rides back up the road to La Palunette. If he
wavers, I’ll go after him, but he goes steady and straight until he’s out of
sight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I try
again, but don’t find any access to this silly pond. The best view of the thing
we’re going to get is right from our back porch. Maybe the road west along the
coast will be more interesting.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Nope. The
road has way too much traffic. The path goes from one depressing campground to
the next, all trampled crabgrass and dust and debris caught in the surviving
greenery. So much for this direction. I should try the bird sanctuary, which is
inland.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I’m almost
there when I decide that this messing around on my own is not really
interesting. It’s about 5, or a bit after. I’m happy to relax with JP on the lounge chairs facing the pond, reading a book
then watching the sun go down. Maybe the orange cat will come around for
bellyscratching. Maybe we’ll go out again about 7 to birdwatch together at
dusk. And we'll drive there, take it easy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I park my
bike by the main building, and go to our room to collect his and turn them in.
JP is lying on his side with his back to me, and I think, Oh, sleeping – must
be quiet. There’s his bike on the porch. I come back in to look for the key to
his bike lock, and notice the silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-33046534801733258372019-09-10T08:21:00.000+02:002019-09-10T08:21:09.654+02:00Monday, September 10<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Monday
morning bright and early: time to go <span style="color: #c00000;">On
Vacation </span>! Would have gone on the weekend, but the Card Player and
I had card playing to do so we stuck around home for that.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We’re
taking a quick trip south to taste the wine and the seafood, then we’ve got a
long weekend planned at a friend’s apartment in Paris. Unnecessarily
complicated, but whatever. I’ve packed Counting Crows, Knopfler, the Bodeans, Santana,
and suchlike for road music. JP doesn’t mind listening to the news &
traffic loop, but I only like that when the news is new, not when I’ve heard it
four times already.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Right about
noon, we are at a fabulous big bridge, where we stop for a pee and a
stretch. If you ever happen to be here, be warned about the toilets. They are
fancy designer toilets with super high-pressure flushing. Gets that bowl
blasted clean. Only, the bowl is designed to look nice, but not to contain that
blast of water: it splashes over and drenches everything. Even the door gets
wet. Fashion before function taken a little too far. So zip up, gather your
stuff, open the door, then quick flush&run. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Having
stopped, we realize it’s time for a bite. In Mende for lunch, things are quite
deserted. It’s Monday. It’s back to school. Heh heh heh, we are <span style="color: #c00000;">On Vacation.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We have had
enough of schoolish things. We want crisp salads and crusty bread and some pretty rosé to
wash it all down, here at this nice sidewalk café in the shade of the plane
trees. Oh, that is a nice rosé – local, is it? Let’s note the address and pay
them a visit on the way back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Back on the
road, south south south on the A75. Turn left at Montpellier. I hate crossing
Montpellier by car, because the freeway is not continuous. If you’re on the A75
and you want to turn east, you have to mess around endlessly on surface
streets. The heck? Finish the d*** road. And there’s traffic. Nasty traffic.
But here we are finally on the coast road, passing by the Grande Motte and the
Grau du Roi and the walled town of Aigues Mortes. We stopped there last year.
This time it’s on to Saintes Maries de la Mer, via the extra-small roads.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Goat
tracks, Dan would say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I love the
goat tracks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">We’re in
the Camargue, the huge salt marsh where the flamingos live and there are white
horses living wild (or not so wild) and herds of tasty black cattle all around.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">JP is just
tickled that I picked Saintes as our destination. Of course I picked it because
I knew he would be tickled. And in the flash-visits of the past I’ve never
stayed more than a half-day, never seen the flamingos close up or any of those
free-roaming quadrupeds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qncQuw7hs9g/XWvP45lU56I/AAAAAAAAJqU/p2_jd7Zr8hEBYssRoLWBh8Tkhv8Lazt1gCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qncQuw7hs9g/XWvP45lU56I/AAAAAAAAJqU/p2_jd7Zr8hEBYssRoLWBh8Tkhv8Lazt1gCLcBGAs/s400/DSC07562.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">There they
are! There they are!</span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fQI9L3fhErU/XWvQJ1g6_TI/AAAAAAAAJqc/vpSRsIQiA541av_LFF9g5316ZhrV1Z4AQCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fQI9L3fhErU/XWvQJ1g6_TI/AAAAAAAAJqc/vpSRsIQiA541av_LFF9g5316ZhrV1Z4AQCLcBGAs/s400/DSC07549.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Oh look,
bovines. I am so easily amused sometimes. But they are really pretty, all black
and peaceful out there in the fields. And here are some tourists from Holland
stopping to see what we’re gawking at, and they get their cameras out too and
we all admire the herd for a while before moving on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">JP loves
showing me around all his old favorite places, and one of these is the beach
where he used to go windsurfing. It’s not an easy place to get too, and so much
the better or it would be overrun. It’s been some time since last he drove down
here, decades at least, and the road has not only not been improved, but at one
point there’s this concrete funnel that prevents anything larger than a regular
car from getting through. Prevents people from driving campers down here and
wrecking the nature reserve. Our car is about the largest that will fit, and
fortunately we have a professional driver at the wheel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AypZ9uMLENo/XWvQYehPTkI/AAAAAAAAJqg/ZhZZOsyHs4IOK3dpzN7NeobsJo2XOW1mQCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AypZ9uMLENo/XWvQYehPTkI/AAAAAAAAJqg/ZhZZOsyHs4IOK3dpzN7NeobsJo2XOW1mQCLcBGAs/s400/DSC07573.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Another 12
km to go to reach the beach, but long before that the quality of the road
becomes just too poor for any vehicle that’s not already a wreck or aspiring to
be one. So we will not be seeing the Number One Windsurfing Beach today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k1t4PspRZy0/XWvQmgzv6II/AAAAAAAAJqk/sokP0sEaRIIqoEQu4uXaqocbFzlhFlTiACLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07585.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k1t4PspRZy0/XWvQmgzv6II/AAAAAAAAJqk/sokP0sEaRIIqoEQu4uXaqocbFzlhFlTiACLcBGAs/s400/DSC07585.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Oh look,
some of those white horses. And birds! Gotta see the birds! So we get out and
walk around for a while. I go off birdhunting while JP sticks around the car.
He’s wary of thieves, he says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Thieves?
There’s nobody here. Nobody.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-me3P7l5SfV0/XWvQyqgNi8I/AAAAAAAAJqs/1shLDS9KuDozv9G9QCqQe_rOx6aCaT4-gCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07588.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-me3P7l5SfV0/XWvQyqgNi8I/AAAAAAAAJqs/1shLDS9KuDozv9G9QCqQe_rOx6aCaT4-gCLcBGAs/s400/DSC07588.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In the
evening I have 50 photos of horses, birds, birds standing on horses, birds in
trees, trees that recently had birds in them, and some of the sluices that keep
the Mediterranean from invading (or escaping). JP has photos of his car. I
don’t know why.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Af5RWaLmih4/XWvRWK8kqvI/AAAAAAAAJq4/uuBJ-sFYRIEMWhhnK52HaDls0c3puixFwCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Af5RWaLmih4/XWvRWK8kqvI/AAAAAAAAJq4/uuBJ-sFYRIEMWhhnK52HaDls0c3puixFwCLcBGAs/s400/DSC07604.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">More
goat-tracking and we finally arrive at Saintes Maries. We’re staying at La
Palunette, a bit out of town on the main road inland. Room 4, with a patio
facing west. It’s a really nice place, quiet and homey; once again I have
landed an ace. We are 2 km from the waterfront where most of the restaurants
are: a distance in that gap between our ideas of what’s walking distance and
what isn’t. He wins this time, as I concede that, yes, on the return trip it
will be dark out and there’s no sidewalk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Ah, dinner
by the sea. Fresh clams with linguini. Mmmm. Broiled sea bass for JP. Some
crisp white wine with that. Delicioso! Fresh seafood is sadly lacking in
Clermont; it’s worth it to come down here for only two days just for this. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CoPMcnW-O9A/XWvR9t0rlJI/AAAAAAAAJrI/qdbvy3Mydm4xrNKHtPZJVd4QRU1OfMDRwCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CoPMcnW-O9A/XWvR9t0rlJI/AAAAAAAAJrI/qdbvy3Mydm4xrNKHtPZJVd4QRU1OfMDRwCLcBGAs/s400/DSC07630.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It’s warm
out, and we linger, watching the boats coming in and the people going by.
Strolling around holding hands is one of my favorite parts. JP’s hands seem so
big, but wrist to fingertip they are exactly the same size as mine, just
thicker, meatier, warmer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-84428746982703556002019-04-26T13:41:00.000+02:002019-04-26T13:41:44.860+02:00The pirate ship<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was going to post one of those stories that I sometimes do, featuring various toys doing odd things. Took all the pictures back in January, when the house was still decorated for the holidays. I just couldn't come up with an interesting end to the story, though, so it never got finished. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
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So here are the pix. Think up your own story.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yAnsdyCnaSU/XLStWF3MKuI/AAAAAAAAJn0/5qEj6JvnOccGfbGIAAk9EnoIXNbdO8qzQCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC07725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yAnsdyCnaSU/XLStWF3MKuI/AAAAAAAAJn0/5qEj6JvnOccGfbGIAAk9EnoIXNbdO8qzQCLcBGAs/s400/DSC07725.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-34340794770852254072019-04-15T17:51:00.001+02:002019-04-15T18:20:36.875+02:00oh, is it spring already?<div style="text-align: justify;">
ok, ok, some blogging for you. yes, it has been a long time. a long, long time.<br />
Nothing much has been happening, not recently, not since the Card Player died.<br />
<br />
It is spring outside. Early spring has been happening since February. The apricots flowered weeks ago; they are pretty much leafed out now. Then came the cherries and the plums and they are mostly done now too. Last up are the apples.<br />
I like the apples best, with their bright pink outer petals.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Alright, I'll tell you about the gardening. <br />
<br />
I've been eager to get out in the dirt, though it is still officially Too Early for that. Too much risk of a hard frost, and indeed just yesterday the apricots lost a lot of their tiny fruit to the cold night.<br />
I turned over a couple of plots of dirt, and buried old potatos along the left side of the veg patch, along the clothesline. Tomatos get too tall, the sheets get tangled in them. Spuds are short.<br />
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Most every morning I go see if they're peeking up yet, but they are not. Also planted are some onions, coming along fine, and peas & salad seeds. Nothing up but the onions, which I suppose is just as well since tonight again it may get to -1°C. Whenever I turn over some ground and come across a lost spud from last season, it's always got great roots, but no leaves yet. They know what they're doing.<br />
For the aromatics, the rosemary is going gangbusters, much to the pleasure of the bees. The sage is trying to keep up, but it's set back by the cold nights. The different thymes have sprouted new leaves, and the raspberries & currents at the back have new leaves.<br />
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You can't resist tomatos. 70 cents a plant at the Sunday market. I've got 4, safely in pots where it's warm, and some green beans sprouting.<br />
Mostly for the veg it's hurry up and wait.<br />
Eggplant, zucchini, cabbage, leeks, hot peppers. All will wait. <br />
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Part of why it's so frustrating to not get on with planting is that the lawn was halfway up to my knees in places. <br />
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My electric lawnmower had a bad contact and was out of action or I wouldn't have let it get so wild. Jerome came over on Saturday and messed with it. A broken bit of plastic was all it took for nothing to work. So he took a bit of wood and stuck it in there where the plastic used to be and now the thing turns on when you squeeze the handles, just like it used to. As a nice knock-on, when I release the handle it doesn't stop immediately. It'll stop in a minute if it gets jiggled right, but with a solid hour of mowing ahead of me, it's a relief not to have to squeeze constantly. Yesterday the mowing took 2 hours, and I didn't quite finish, but took off instead with Mericia to go shopping.<br />
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In previous years, you may have noticed the unmowed patches left here and there. Cat playgrounds! Used to drive JP nuts; he thought it looked sloppy. Yeah, so? Well this year I decided to change the areas for not mowing. So I shaved off the patch by the apricots. Ew. Now that looks shabby! The larger areas at the back I didn't completely mow, just gnawed around the edges. And then I left three new patches, places with interesting flowers growing. we'll see how that develops.<br />
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Then the other thing that makes it seem like it should be past time already to get the garden in, is that the flowers are all coming along fine. The daffodils have come and gone. The tulips and the camellia are in full swing. The irises and lilacs are about to burst. Those renonculus and poppies in the planters don't count; I picked those up at the market last weekend. Gotta plant something.<br />
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I have a section full of azaleas and rhododendrons, but they're not doing well. I think they get too much sun in the afternoon (though not until 3 pm, because of the shadow of the house). Maybe I can move them (but where to?), maybe they don't have the right soil (possible, though I have added bags of the 'right' dirt a couple of times). If the lilacs would just grow faster and get some shade going, that might do the trick. I have a deal with Mericia to trade lilacs this year. She likes the white ones, and I like the dark ones. She has only dark ones in her yard, and whenever I shopped for lilacs at the gardening stores, they never had the dark ones. So I have white and pink and 2-tones. We'll cut each other bouquets in a couple weeks, and if you're nice to them, lilacs will sprout roots from cuttings. Then I may just plunk a dark lilac among the sad rhododendrons and let it take over. <br />
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The worrying thing is there's no water. In February I emptied the tank that collects water from the roof into the well, thinking that the rain would fill it again long before I needed to water the yard. No sense in sending the overflow into the sewer system. Usually it rains plenty in March & April.<br />
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We've barely had a drop since. A drizzle now and then. I've not yet set up the pump to draw well water, but I've had to water since March, and I am on to my summertime habits of collecting grey water from the kitchen and warming my shower into a watering can to empty on the yard later. Some people will not understand the sense of these measures. Just run the tap! But what did Granddad's conversation revolve around, when I was a kid? Undocumented laborers, and the price of water.</div>
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ooo, I almost said a bad word. "Wetback". My grandfather would never have said anything else. It seemed like such an ordinary word at the time, that I did not even know it was a bad word until high school. It was just the word we had for the illegal laborers that came up from the southern border. Not until we moved away to a different (though not less discriminatory or intolerant) universe did anybody say 'Hey!'. </div>
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And the goat is still here. She has not gotten away yet.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-6127701536506516742018-06-26T22:41:00.000+02:002018-06-26T22:41:21.553+02:00train to Kiel, anyone?<div style="text-align: justify;">
Left Clermont on the 8:30 to Paris, which conveniently arrives just at lunch time. Across the street from the Gare de l'Est we spied an acual sit-down restaurant to restore ourselves before going on. Ah, a burger place. Go to France to eat burgers. D ordered the pseudo-pad-thai, which was not a better idea.</div>
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We promise ourselves not to do that again.</div>
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Then the 13:55 from Paris to Karlsruhe. Nice TGV, cruising along at 316kph, but once across the Rhine they don't have the right rails, so back down to regular train speed. In Karlsruhe at 16:25 we have time to pick up German snackage as we change quays for the 16:51 to Hamburg. D gets some sort of pizza item (didn't we just say not to do that?), and I opt for a ham & cheese sandwich on some fun bread with seeds stuck on it. And an apple pastry. Karlsruhe to Hamburg is long. We will need sustenance. The apricots and peanuts and oreos and chocolate in the backpack may not suffice.</div>
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On the French trains they roll a cart through selling food and drink, and depending on the train there may be a 'dining' car. No real dining, just a fixed area to buy the same stuff that's on the cart, with a handful of tall tables to stand and eat at. On this German train there's also a dining car, but in first class at least, the train guy comes around and takes orders, then serves you at your seat with real cutlery and glasses and everything. Neat. </div>
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Ohhh, neater, they have rhubarb among the flavors of fruit juice. Well, I think, ew. D thinks neat! It's a thing now.<br />
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The Hamburg train is running late.<br />
It's only 10 minutes behind, but we have only 8 to make our last connection. They make announcements in German, the a much shorter version in English, and it's not clear what's happening. The train person assures us that the train to Kiel will be delayed to wait for us. OK. But delayed how much? What if we can't find our way around the station fast enough to catch it?<br />
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We arrive at platform 12, and the train to Kiel was announced at platform 5, and we have 5 minutes.<br />
We heave the luggage off the train and make our way to the escalator, but it isn't easy to do anything quickly with so many people doing more or less the same thing. There's not going around the woman with the stroller.<br />
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So I spy "Kiel", but it's platform 7. Kiel looks good to me, so what if it's not platform 5? Well, the extra hour to wait... So down the escalator to the right platform, and onto the train, where we are about the last passengers to jump on. And off we go.<br />
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Ooof, got it.<br />
<br />
There's almost nobody here. There's a screen to tell you what's going on, but it only gives the time, not the route or the next station. I didn't have time at the station to look at how many stops we'd be making, but eventually we find a little schematic of the regional routes, and we try to figure out which line we're on. Could be the orange, could be the red, could be a lot of things. The sign said Kiel was the destination, so what does it matter?<br />
<br />
We were supposed to get in at 23:00, but we started about 5 minutes late. At 23:05, the lack of announcement for Kiel isn't worrisome. At 23:15 it is.<br />
And then the PA has lots to say, blablablaKielblablablablablabla.<br />
Er, alright. Our station is the end of the line: just stay on until we get there.<br />
Then we stop somewhere we don't see on the map, and I think we're so close that they just don't list everything because there's not space on the tiny map. So we have to be just a minute away.<br />
Several minutes later, a new station is announced, and this time I just keep looking at the map.<br />
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Oh, there it is. And there's the last one. They're way over here where we weren't looking for them at all.<br />
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Dang!<br />
We gotta get off this train.<br />
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Next stop Schleshwig. Let's take it! We can get a new train, or a taxi, or lodgings, or something.<br />
Mmm, there is NOTHING here at the station in Schleshwig. Middle of nowhere. The five other travellers all bolted into the darkeness of the north German night. The lights are on at the station, but it's boarded up and undergoing renovation.<br />
There are two trains going back down the line. One to the station where we paused several minutes on the way up, and where apparently they split the train, with the head cars going meekly to Kiel, and the others off into this dark hinterland. That one is coming by in just five minutes, so get over there if you're going. Only, once in Neu-whatever, we'd still have to find a train to Kiel.<br />
The other one doesn't come by until 0:07, but it says it goes where we want to go. The map appears to corraborate this news - there is a line from here to there.<br />
<br />
Finally here it comes.<br />
It's a teeny little one-car job. No splitting this train, with one for Kiel and one for Bora Bora. We get on. We make every village and car-park stop imaginable from Schleshwig to Kiel, and we get there at 1:15.<br />
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Just a little bit late, but we have guaranteed late arrival at our hotel. Time for bed.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-42142829104708676152018-02-28T17:40:00.000+01:002018-02-28T17:40:02.262+01:00Venice again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Early in the morning we crept into Venice, wending our way through the lagoon, around the various islands. The ships really have to stick to their channel, and go super-slow so the Wake doesn't swamp other boats, the quays, whole islands...</div>
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On the way in, we followed one cruise monster, and were followed by another in a majestic parade. Come to think of it, on the way out we took this same route, following three other ships. No crossing a ship going the other way - possibly not room for that!</div>
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We lucked out so well on our B&B a week ago, I was hoping we'd have something just as nice this time. No such luck. Slightly more expensive than B&B Corner, the new place was just as well placed, being just two minutes walk from the Rialto Bridge. But location was really all you got. The room was small and boring, though clean. Bed, a single straight chair, tiny desk, tiny nightstand, nothing else. The bathroom stank of mildew. The kitchen area was off-limits, and there was nowhere to just sit around and relax. </div>
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The guy running the place seemed nice enough when he let us in, but then we never saw him again. Just a place to crash. I don't even remember the name, or I would tell you to never go there.</div>
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You can just wander around forever in Venice. It's never boring, even the quiet parts; or ugly, even the run-down parts. You just walk around, then sit for an espresso, then wander over a bridge, along an alley, and stop for a snack, visit a chapel or a palace, decide where to dine - indoors or al fresco?</div>
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All things, alas, must come to an end. Time to go home. Back to work, back to laundry, back to the cat. Poor little Sienne has been all alone for more than a week, not counting the short visits from Marc (just the time to fill her bowls and change the litter, not time to sit and pet).</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-46805388839472152752018-02-22T17:29:00.001+01:002018-02-22T17:29:55.032+01:00Kotor<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Then after Mykonos there was a whole day of boring cruising. Most of the time we were not close enough to shore to see the distant hills going by, marking the miles. Sometimes there was a ship in the distance, usually a tanker, occassionally a sailboat.</div>
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That is all.</div>
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The activities on the ship are not very interesting. There are two pools, small and very crowded. Apparently in one of them somebody has a bad bathroom accident. Really gross. Plenty of lounge chairs on the top decks, but it's windy up there. Indoors there's the dance floor (lame), a gym (eh), a theater (worse than the dance floor), and of course unlimited food and drink.</div>
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I finish my knitting, and a couple of books.</div>
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One useful thing we do is sign up, for once, for one of the organized outings for our stop in Kotor, Montenegro. It's a boat trip around the fjord, and it seems that making an early start will be the best way to be sure we actually get any boat trip around the fjord at all. Indeed that turns out to likely be true, since when we go down and board our little touring boat there doesn't seem to be any easy and nearby way to reserve anything else. By the time you got a boat, you wouldn't have time to enjoy it (All aboard at 1pm - not even time for a local lunch) Good idea! </div>
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Making our way down the fjord, where Kotor sits way at the end. I Watch from our balcony as the sun gradually reveals the mountains all around.</div>
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Our pilot, coming to guide us in.<br />
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We loom so large above the town! For a while, the height of the slopes on either side lets you forget what a behemoth we're on, but once up to the quay, it's just like in Venice. It doesn't seem right to be so much bigger than everything normal.</div>
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Here's the island that's the main objective of the tour. There are two islands, one behind this one with just two buildings, no trees. The Woody one is a monastery, with, I think, 8 monks and a handful of chickens. Access is of course limited to monks. </div>
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The other, man-made one, has tons of visitors as one tourist boat after the next comes up to the dock to pick up or drop off. There's a whole fleet waiting some 100 meters out, waiting for the proper time to pick up their group. There must have been a dozen groups at the same time as ours.</div>
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In the high season you might really have to book ahead to visit, since dock access is very limited, and only so many people can crowd in at once. Interesting to know that the island is built of sunken ships, all piled up.<br />
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The town on the Mainland is neat. Lots of wealthy people have vacation homes on the slopes above or along the waterline farther up the fjord. Lots of handcrafts for sale. Some beautiful textiles, though we're warned that if the price is too good it's likely a machine-made knockoff imported from China. Sad! I'd like to support the local businesses - the whole chain from prime materials to labor to marketing, not just a seller of imports.</div>
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It would be really nice to have an hour once we get back to Kotor to poke around town and discover things. As it is, we get back with just time for a quick stroll and an ice cream. Good ice cream, minty.</div>
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Off we go again. Good thing I had the ice cream, because I prefer to spend our promenade back out of the fjord looking from one side to the other from the top deck, rather than down below having lunch. It would be good to have lunch, but when will I be coming back here, to tower over islands and boats, and pass by chapels perched on hillsides?</div>
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Might be a while.</div>
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Maybe next time I'll have the guts of my camera cleaned by a pro before leaving home, so I won't have all these spots to clean up. That's dust on the Inside, not a dirty lens - I can change lenses and the spots are the same.</div>
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Bye, Monténégro! One more stop and it's back home and to work...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-77567018652155505412018-02-16T17:32:00.002+01:002018-02-16T17:32:45.191+01:00Mykonos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Chug chug chug we are off to Mykonos.</div>
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Well, my cabin is on the 7th deck, and you can only really appreciate the chugging when you're down near the waterline. Up here it's more a discrete hum and a gentle vibration. Most of the time the guests don't notice it at all. Probably the employees housed down on decks with no Windows go chug-crazy by the end of their stint underway.</div>
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We are not the only cruise in town today. Our rival (or colleague) across the way is much smaller than we are. In Venice and in Katakolon we were not the biggest duck in the pond: there are some serious behemoths on the water. It's kind of fun though when you're on a big ship to be on the biggest ship around. No matter what you think of the pollution we put out, or the working conditions of the lowest crew -let alone their living conditions when they're not on duty - or the damage these ships do to the environment when passing through shallower areas; there's a sense of exhilaration to be so high up, to be so powerful.</div>
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Oh, and look at all the little shuttles coming and going like bumblebees to our twin flowers on deck 1. Today we have a whole variety of lauches, since the deal with the port of Mykonos is that we use the local launch services. In other ports where we were too embarassingly large to come all the way to the dock, we lowered our own launches.</div>
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I'm all for using the local services.</div>
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Today is our only full-day stop. Not just the morning. Not just the afternoon. Off the ship after breakfast, and on again for dinner. Finally: lunch using the local services! (oh, is this telling how much my life revolves around my stomach? I must admit...)</div>
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Our dining-table companions sign up for one of the organized excursions at every stop, and this time I can see the interest, but we considered too late to join in. They've gone for the 4x4 excursion where you drive your own vehicle in a rally to some private beach where lunch will be waiting, and around to some of the hinterlands. I'd like to get out of town, but no matter; with the whole day we'll have plenty to see on foot.</div>
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Besides, to go jeeping, as fun as that might be, you need to present yourself at the launch at some ungodly hour when it's probably barely light out. I am all for sleeping until the sun is properly up, and often much later than that (depending on the latitude and time of year, naturally). I'm on vacation here!</div>
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Eventually we do get going for a preliminary walk around the town. Very cute, not open just yet - I see they are not early-risers here.</div>
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The windmills mark the edge of town, and I'd like to go farther on, kind of get away from the tourist-mill town. </div>
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We go just to the other side of this little spit of land, and there's the water all nice and blue and inviting. We pick our way through the rocks down to it. Oohhh, it's so nice and warm. Time for a swim!</div>
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But we didn't bring our towels & stuff...</div>
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No matter! The sea is calling, and my travelling companion (TC for short) is down to skivvies and out in the drink in a blink.</div>
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Ohhhh, that's good.</div>
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We stop for a coffee on the way back to the boat to get our bathing gear. The heck with going for a walk: the water is the thing here. Let's go for a swim.</div>
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While we're sitting, TC has a first experience with Bears. It's amusing to be here in Mykonos, the Mecca of Gay tourism in Greece, watching the groups of men go by. They're all so alike - white, middle aged, a bit of a paunch but not too much, new tans or perhaps some sunburn, shorts and t-shirts like a uniform, always with a smile and a wink. This evening the nightclubs will be rocking.</div>
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Lunch is okay. I liked a place on the water, and we were definitely there for the view, because the food was eh. Fresh enough, but bland and ordinary. How to pick, though? There are so many restaurants, every one of them catering to tourists that will likely not every come around again.</div>
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In the afternoon, a swim and some sun on the tiny, pebbly beach, then a look around the shops for something interesting on this last stop in Greece. The swim is interesting; there's not a sandy bottom, and the rocks are all slick with algae and seaweed so you really have to Watch how you move around in the shallows, until you can actually swim.<br />
It may be September, but the water is deliciously warm, and the sun on the beach is not bad either. In the late afternoon, a bit of windowshopping, then it's back on the boat, y'all, time to head north again.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-28912131496393080832018-02-09T22:43:00.000+01:002018-02-09T22:43:18.225+01:00Katakolon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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On the boat you can reserve guided tours of various complexity for the different port calls, but so far it seems that just getting off the boat and finding transport of your own is a lot less expensive and perhaps a lot more flexible than going with the pre-planned thing. Of course, it's easy with the ship-planned excursions, no shopping around to do, and usually you start off really early to maximize your visiting time. But we like the idea of just free-Wheeling* it. A tour guide droning on and on at some boring building when you really wanted to spend time strolling down the side Streets is not always fun.</div>
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It's not as if there are not options of all sorts in port. Au contraire, there's everything from hoofing it with a local map, renting bikes, or getting a taxi, to full-blown tours without the middleman. There are whole villages set up to sell you tours and souvenirs and lunch and whatever. No worries there.</div>
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Katakolon, on the Greek Mainland (I checked the map; it is attached), is our big cultural stop of the cruise. The attraction is Ancient Olympus, where the first Olympic games were held. The site is about half an hour by bus from the port, and busses go back & forth every few minutes. So we just get one We are supposed to go back on the same bus, which will get us back to the village with just time to shop before the last ferries back to the ship, but I think you could negociate to take pretty much any bus back, as long as it's with the same company.</div>
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The site is huge, and we don't have all day so we just see the outside parts. Perhaps in the museum where they have all the smaller artefacts laid out, there's plenty of explanation about what you're looking at. In the field you just walk around (though do keep to the ground, they will come yell at you for degrading the ruins if you climb on them) with your guide and listen to the commentary.</div>
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Or, if you don't have a guide, you can hang around near one. There are plenty around, and in all sorts of languages. Or you can just enjoy the sights as they are.<br />
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When we got off the bus, we were in a parking lot full of busses and most of the busses didn't even have room to stay parked there, but dropped off their passengers and went elsewhere. Hordes of people. I was worried that the whole place would be overrun with tourists. We may have been many hundreds, but the place is so large (and we didn't even see all of it, for lack of time) there's room to spread out. Plus, people tended to pass by in guided waves, leaving unpopulated lulls where you could have a corner to yourself for a while.</div>
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These might look like fun stepping-stones, but trust me, don't do it.<br />
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With some patience, you can even get some nice photos with only limited numbers of strangers in them. At this particular spot people were politely taking turns at the unobstructed view, then going on without walking through the next person's shot. Everybody smiling and nodding, and 'After you, please'. Until a big tour group came along, of course.</div>
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Nice countryside. Should stick around and visit it next time. Just taking the bus from the port to the ruins and back, you can see that you're skipping over the real Greece where regular Greeks live and work.</div>
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Finally back to the port. There's one side with tiny fishing boats, and one side with colorful pleasure boats for just tooling around in. No big yachts here. Off to the right, however, is boat enough to hold all of these in the hold. Two cruise ships are anchored a few hundred yards out, and the shuttle activity is rocking. Just one of them is enough to fill every chair at the array of waterside cafés - so much for a local beer before boarding and going on our ponderous way.</div>
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*oh those random capitals again!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-21548852344209041332018-02-07T18:44:00.000+01:002018-02-07T18:44:56.471+01:00Corfu<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Back on the boat, time to head South to where it might be warmer and less rainy. Chugged all afternoon, chugged all night, chugged all morning until stopping a couple countries later in Greece. No stopping in Slovenia or Croatia or Bosnia-Herzegovina or Montenegro or Albania, though that would have been interesting as there are places there rather less heavily travelled than our programmed destinations. We will get one stop in Monténégro, but later. (Blogger is helpfully adding accents to some of my text, because it knows how to spell better than I do. Only, it cannot be taught that, while, yes my account is in France, no, I am not blogging in French. So just bear with the bits of nonsense.)</div>
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The weather here between the island of Corfu and the Greek Mainland is not much better than it was farther north. (ok, now what gives? Earlier, when I typed "south", it was corrected to "South", and even just now I had to uncorrect the correction. But when I typed "north", north does not get capitalized. Who is in charge here?) But wait, I was talking about the weather. </div>
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On board we have a daily Schedule* and it tells us all about the stops we'll be making and the tours we can reserve and what events are planned on board, and at what times all of that happens (especially, what time do you have to be back on ship before it leaves you behind). In there, there's weather, and today's sea conditions are listed as "Heavy". You wouldn't know it unless you go check out the Wind* on the top decks. Inside where it's nice & cozy and the beverages are pre-paid, nothing moves at all. Bring on the gales!</div>
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Here we are, setting foot on Corfu, at Kérkira. We had just a couple hours to look around, so we walked around the port and the headland and the town. Not really time for the museum unless you headed right there, or to hike out into the hinterlands. Just enough for a taste. The cruise is like a sampler; you do a quick check to see if you might want to come back for a real visit some day.</div>
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It's a pleasant stop, with lots of parks and layers of history on the headland. <br />
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The town was fun to walk around, with throngs of people all out doing their business. You could tell the people off the cruise ships, but there were lots of locals as well. This being our first stop in Greece, all the stuff in the shops looked new and different and unique - get that nice handwoven tablecloth now, because you'll never see its like again. </div>
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We finished our tour with time for tea before catching the shuttle back to the ship. There's a long park on the waterfront, lined with hôtels and restaurants, and we had a pot of tea there. No time for dinner, alas (and too early for it). The platters of fresh seafood being served around us look and smell delicious. I hope in future sorties we'll be able to taste more of the local wares. Dining on the ship is okay, but it doesn't compare to real restaurants you find on your own.</div>
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* Schedule gets a cap. So does Wind. It's not even a French thing to capitalize nouns in mid-sentence. That's a German thing. So stop it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-80621074375096749302018-02-02T17:58:00.000+01:002018-02-02T17:58:14.985+01:00Trieste<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have this folder of info about the boat, but well, in the intervening months that folder has been put somewhere or other, so I can't say all scientifically just how the boat was. It was pretty big. In the category of Ban-It-From-Venice big, which I can totally agree with because the environmental harm these behemoths can do, as they parade up and down the lagoon, looming large over the city taller than anything in sight. 11 decks above the waterline, maybe 4000 people aboard including crew.</div>
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I agree, and yet, there I was on the boat, and happy to be. </div>
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We glided out of port in the evening, watching from the top top railing as the modestly lit city slid by. It's interesting how dark Venice is at night. I understood that in a small way, when walking to or from dinner, the narrow streets were often unlit, and the plazas only dimly. From the vantage point of the ship you can see that it's that way everywhere.</div>
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First thing: decide on a drinking plan.<br />
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Seriously! You've got your Costa card, and you choose a beverage plan and pay for the whole thing at once, for the whole trip, and then you just present your card at any beverage-dispensing point and consume as many as you'd like. There's a plan with only soft drinks, coffee & tea for maybe 15€ a day, way on up to one including unlimited orders of the most complicated cocktails. Unlimited being one at a time, of course: you can't use one card to get a round for the whole table. Dang. Each client a card. We settled on one including ordinary wines and standard cocktails. There was an option, I think, where you could pre-pay a certain number of items, and once they were gone you could top up the card. but we went the route that really encourages you to consume. Another espresso? Sure. An apéritif? That sounds nice. A nightcap? Oh, now you mention it...</div>
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Then there's eating. All standard meals are included, plus a certain amount of snackage. The buffet was alright, but mobbed, so we usually ate at our designated table in the dining room. For dinner you're supposed to go at your assigned time, and sit at your assigned table, with your assigned tablemates. You can change, though. But it's nice if you have interesting neighbors to see them each evening, because you get to know them a bit. Breakfast and lunch the waiters take you to the table that suits them. I liked the tables at the back window, overlooking our wake, but it's noisy there, only 2 floors above the waterline.</div>
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The room was great. Excellent bed, lots of space, bathtub, armchairs, a private balcony. The only way to tell the ship is underway is the low vibration and background of noise. You get used to it, and tend to notice when it stops. That means you're in port.<br />
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Oh, look! Trieste has magically appeared outside the window.<br />
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Oh, and it's raining, but just a little.<br />
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It's Sunday morning, and not much is going on in Trieste.<br />
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We hiked up the hill to the old monastery there, which was cool. The museum for the fotress up there was closed, of course. But you could go up the belltower of the Church. That was cool, not just for the view (beware of the time, because if they ring 11:00 right in your ear you might be deaf for a while), but because some nifty works of art on what used to be the outside of the building are now on the inside. As you climb up the stairs, there's this on the left, as best a view as can be had.</div>
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Down in the town again, the shops were opening in the shopping area. They must do a lot of tourist business there, from the cruise ships coming to refuel. I'm not sure we'd stop here but for the fuel...</div>
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Anyway, there are two interesting things. There's a tiny little handcraft fair, with about a dozen stands selling soaps and textiles and leather goods and knicknacks. And there's a race.</div>
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A walking race.</div>
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Racers of all ages are going round and round and round a circuit of about 2 large city blocks. Walking as fast as they can, which is pretty fast. There apparently are racewalking clubs here, and they have come together to compete in their favored sport on this drizzly September day.</div>
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Time to go! Fuel tanks full, supplies all on board. Let's head South.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-16372600006947935852018-02-01T18:43:00.000+01:002018-02-01T18:43:33.237+01:00Venice<div style="text-align: justify;">
Bet you thought I didn't even take a summer vacation, for all I never said a word or posted a photo about it.</div>
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I meant to. The plan was to go on vacation but to leave the computer at home rather than lugging it around everywhere, and anyway I'd be way too busy mess with blogging anyway. That part worked out, only when I got home I had all that catch-up to do at work, and then I was hurrying home to play with my new cat, and then, and then, and then...</div>
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Venice? What?<br />
Wasn't Sicily on the schedule, a week of exploring and a week of bridge?<br />
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Er, that was before my travelling companion had a stroke in June and had to spend 6 months in the clinic. She's better now, but Sicily was cancelled.</div>
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A different travelling companion, who wishes to remain unblogged about, stepped up to the plate, and said, No Bridge Please, but what about a bit of a road trip, and then a cruise up and down the Adriatic?<br />
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To which I said Oh, a cruise! Never done one of those. And I adore Venice - let's go! So I booked us B&B's for the day-before and the day-after cruising, to give us lots of time to see this fabulous city. Otherwise, the flight times in & out of Lyon were pretty tight and we would have had to go straight from the airport to the ship and back, and what's the fun in that? To have Venice <em>-Venice-</em> right there, and only be able to wave to it from the watertaxi?</div>
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This and the following pic are from the dining room of B&B Corner, which if you ever go to Venice you must absolutely stay there. Not only is it a real, old Venitian palace on the Grand Canal, with big rooms and a library and an excellent breakfast buffet, but the owners are the best.<br />
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Let me tell you: On the waterbus from the airport, it wasn't all that clear which stop we should get off at to reach the B&B. And as we pulled away from a stop, I realized that - wait!!!- that was it. So I rushed to gather our bags up as my companion inquired, and the boat backed up to the quay again and let us off. Then we found our way down alleys and over bridges and across squares, all laden with baggage and getting quite peckish from looking in at all the restaurants and finally found our spot.</div>
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Then we set our stuff down in the room and freshened up before heading out for lunch and it was at that point that I realized we were missing a bag - a small carryon with my camera and my knitting and my supply of 16x16 sudokus and all the paperwork for cruise. Some of those items were more precious than others, but I really like to have a sudoku over my breakfast coffee.</div>
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This is Italy. What chance is there that when you leave such a juicy item on a public conveyance that you will find it again? Fugeddaboudit.</div>
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But No.</div>
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Our host and his dad got right on the phone to the bus company, and told us to go on, go have some lunch, there's a bunch of places not far.</div>
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So off we went to lunch, drowning my chagrin in a succulent plate of pasta with fresh seafood and a glass of excellent wine. Seriously, with food like this who cares about losing a camera? All our réservations are online anyway.</div>
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And who is this coming down the street but our host, who has succeeded in finding my bag and who will escort me to the place it's being kept for me? But yes! We cross Venice at record speed, and there at the bus company kiosk is my bag with all its precious cargo intact!</div>
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Later in the day we had a somewhat more sedate adventure, walking calmly but elatedly around this most beautiful of cities. I'll never get tired of Venice, at least as long as I can get away from the crowds. The thronging masses at the major sites are enough to make me avoid places like the Rialto bridge and the Piazza St Marco, but it's easy enough to step aside into the little side streets and residential squares, and it's all good.</div>
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In the evening: more pasta and wine. Divine! Why do I not live in Italy?</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-59003071330312335662018-01-18T17:38:00.003+01:002018-01-18T17:38:46.901+01:00Holiday Guest<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What did Rokosoko want for Christmas?<br />
Company!<br />
Sienne is terrible company. She never wants to play.<br />
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Happily, Mia came to visit.<br />
She had to spend the whole time in the library, because, naturally, Sienne was not pleased.<br />
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Lemme in there!<br />
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Playing House, cat style.<br />
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Sienne was actually kind of pleased, since Roko started spending the day shut in with Mia, and she had the rest of the house to herself.</div>
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And after Mia went home, things have changed a bit. Sienne now chases Roko around. He joyfully flees and hides under the furniture, while she makes a show of fluffing her tail when really she quite enjoys the game. Still growly, though.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-61907141330684328302018-01-16T18:39:00.000+01:002018-01-18T17:41:36.804+01:00Number TwentysevenOh, dear, it has been some time since I've blogged. <br />
Just the way life goes, I guess. I used to blog a lot when hanging around in my office after hours. Now I don't hang around here after hours so much, and as soon as I'm out the door I've got other things to do.<br />
But, well, I have some time tonight before heading to the bridge game, so I thought I'd introduce you to one of my other evening occupations:<br />
There he is!!!!<br />
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No, not the guy in the grey pullover. The little black thing in the crook of the JP's elbow. The smidgen that was not yet litter-competent when I took this photo back in September. That was kind of a stinky couple of weeks there.<br />
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For number 27, I like Rokosoko. An All-Black of distinction.<br />
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After 2 weeks he was let out of the bathroom.<br />
After 5 weeks he was trying to explore out of the house.<br />
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Sienne, of course, is not pleased. She is not sure he should be allowed catfoodbowl rights at all. If he gets on the couch she will spit and growl and get off.<br />
She is not pleased, but then sometimes he sneaks up on her, and you'd think they were great friends. Roko tries. He follows her all around.<br />
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Then when she turns around and notices her proximity to him, she's all mad. Gotcha!<br />
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The Ikea rats have really taken a beating.<br />
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Roko has plenty of toys all over the house, and dearly loves Bandersnatch's old cat tree, but what would really be great is to go Outside.<br />
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So when it snowed, I took him Out for just a little while.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-62096729643273800332017-06-22T18:59:00.002+02:002017-06-22T19:06:30.111+02:00Kitchen, phase 3So where were we, where were we?<br />
Ah yes, in the kitchen...<br />
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3 coats of stuff so the nifty parquet doesn't get damaged immediately.</div>
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Put in the fabulous and extremely heavy solid oak work surface.</div>
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Cut a hole for the sink.</div>
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Be sure to get that just right!</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ks2mcRQa_rY/WUv0--tydfI/AAAAAAAAJYs/o80liYiK5IUQ7nzOYLt37q07A140zwbVgCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC05970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1065" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ks2mcRQa_rY/WUv0--tydfI/AAAAAAAAJYs/o80liYiK5IUQ7nzOYLt37q07A140zwbVgCLcBGAs/s400/DSC05970.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Another hole for the stovetop.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z0iJOWnDJZc/WUv0-ygnR9I/AAAAAAAAJYw/TnUwdH6AjTcukNiJXTBjDcWM61lfeYhqACLcBGAs/s1600/DSC05972.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1065" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-z0iJOWnDJZc/WUv0-ygnR9I/AAAAAAAAJYw/TnUwdH6AjTcukNiJXTBjDcWM61lfeYhqACLcBGAs/s400/DSC05972.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Toss some cabinets up there. Install the sink, the stove and the oven. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Wire that all up. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Plumbing ok? </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
No floods?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Now for the really cool part: cut up a second sheet of oak to fit in the hole we made in the wall, get it in there, and then secure the thing so it doesn't fall down & take a bunch of wall with it. No balancing it in the middle, noooooo, its center of gravity is clearly in the dining room.</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WAkAGFjiIV4/WUv2VWy7VRI/AAAAAAAAJY8/Cw1asFIMVdEC746hFXoBsgK7p-ha2-4zQCLcBGAs/s1600/DSC05974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WAkAGFjiIV4/WUv2VWy7VRI/AAAAAAAAJY8/Cw1asFIMVdEC746hFXoBsgK7p-ha2-4zQCLcBGAs/s400/DSC05974.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Ooooo, isn't that just gorgeous?</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Perfect place to put lots of stuff while we finish the rest.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-53755529959773227962017-06-14T17:56:00.000+02:002017-06-14T17:56:11.080+02:00In the meantimeWhile all that was happening, Sienne was Not Happy.<br />
She was Riled<br />
Disturbed<br />
Irritated<br />
Once, even, The Marauder came over from across the street and snacked on her kibble - her own kibble in her own house! And the Card Player had the nerve to pet it!<br />
And then that white cat from the house back-to-back kept hanging out in the yard as well.<br />
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There's only so much a cat can take.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-78560373274511698202017-06-14T12:31:00.000+02:002017-06-14T12:31:30.297+02:00Kitchen, Phase 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HTq3w6zmAxg/WUAWFrQ5WsI/AAAAAAAAJXM/_-9h6E5-cW8qR4-5iRl-WboFIUuHPP98ACLcB/s1600/DSC05954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1065" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HTq3w6zmAxg/WUAWFrQ5WsI/AAAAAAAAJXM/_-9h6E5-cW8qR4-5iRl-WboFIUuHPP98ACLcB/s400/DSC05954.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
The middle of the kitchen was slowly sinking into the cellar, with more than 3cm of sag between the center and the edge. But wait, not even the edges are level. And the walls aren't straight either.<br />
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After planing off a couple mm of the floor at the doorsill, you can successfully close the door over the new planks, but only after we added a bunch of washers to raise the door considerably.<br />
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Ta-Daaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9EN_vksiUsk/WUAYHWESvWI/AAAAAAAAJXk/_xixKr-n1GgkXzNOFlLihS1k-i4d6jH3wCLcB/s1600/DSC05963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1065" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9EN_vksiUsk/WUAYHWESvWI/AAAAAAAAJXk/_xixKr-n1GgkXzNOFlLihS1k-i4d6jH3wCLcB/s400/DSC05963.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-48719067456995706232017-06-13T18:37:00.000+02:002017-06-13T18:37:25.077+02:00Kitchen, phase 1<br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PaQBh6ThU5o/WUAQApCTdiI/AAAAAAAAJWU/XtYphgZVqBAR-DGxjXfKfAn9Alj_9erjgCLcB/s1600/DSC05926.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PaQBh6ThU5o/WUAQApCTdiI/AAAAAAAAJWU/XtYphgZVqBAR-DGxjXfKfAn9Alj_9erjgCLcB/s400/DSC05926.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
First: empty everything out.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lAguBEAYLGo/WUAQH1JeR5I/AAAAAAAAJWY/S6gsRhEE35MEsTMPJhNRvF_ya3bt0tUWwCLcB/s1600/DSC05930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lAguBEAYLGo/WUAQH1JeR5I/AAAAAAAAJWY/S6gsRhEE35MEsTMPJhNRvF_ya3bt0tUWwCLcB/s400/DSC05930.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Second: start the destruction!</div>
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Out with it all!</div>
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To the dump! Er, to the Center for Sorting Old Stuff!</div>
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Oh look at all the nice wood under that nasty old linoleum.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QzcecKcvsUY/WUATe7gzfvI/AAAAAAAAJWw/Kj6s1lMs5Y0NseDgAfVcsRPUyahkeL1RACLcB/s1600/DSC05940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1065" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QzcecKcvsUY/WUATe7gzfvI/AAAAAAAAJWw/Kj6s1lMs5Y0NseDgAfVcsRPUyahkeL1RACLcB/s400/DSC05940.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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What's with all the dust? You have serious dust there.</div>
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A hole in the wall!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hey!</div>
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You'll be patching that, right?</div>
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No.</div>
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Good idea.</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--uzkJtY1Ldg/WUAUdsMGf8I/AAAAAAAAJW8/mCoh1hN7FIIkSdLe5w81zPoHFVTccp9KwCLcB/s1600/DSC05951.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1065" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--uzkJtY1Ldg/WUAUdsMGf8I/AAAAAAAAJW8/mCoh1hN7FIIkSdLe5w81zPoHFVTccp9KwCLcB/s400/DSC05951.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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Destruction complete, time to build.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-14760479753138464162017-04-12T17:57:00.001+02:002017-04-12T17:57:43.181+02:00So: how many of the blue results for heavy cat were not salty?
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">No, I am not bald yet.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">There are some thin patches,
though. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">About a year and a
half ago, the lab installed a fancy new program to deal with all the different
requests for testing, their progress, the results, pretty much everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a difficult switch, but we got through
it alright. One of the last things we gave up doing manually was counting how
many tests of what kind we reported, and how long it took for each one, and
what the result was. Adding a line to an Excel file, diligently, every single
time one of the three senior people wrote a results report, was just a stupid
and annoying redundancy. We paid a fortune for a program that can do that for
us, at the click (or ten) of a mouse.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Personally, I was kind
of attached to my Excel file. Used to be I was the only person who did the
reports, and in my view it wasn’t much time out of my day and I could trust the
sums at the end of the month and the annual bottom line.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then when my
colleagues came along and were also writing up reports I was glad for the help,
but the certainty that my accounts table was complete became less sure but
still close enough.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And still later, they
both objected to my wasting their time once the new tool was in place. So with
having the new system in place for the entire year of 2016, the sorting of the
beans for that year should be entirely automated, and therefore we stopped
adding lines to a table one at a time. My colleagues were pretty much on strike
anyway and the manual system was getting farther from accurate every day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And now it is the hour
to render our accounts to the government.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Only, now I want the
details of how many relatives of patients we tested for a certain defect in a
certain gene, and how many of them had the defect or not, and how many other
tests were done in a certain context and not another. Now those details just
aren’t coming out in any coherent fashion. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So maybe me questions
aren’t properly phrased – it’s a computer program, after all, you have to ask
it things in a particular way; get all of your conditions right so that the
search in the database brings back all the good stuff, and only the good stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Eh, half the good stuff
is missing, and an unknown but significant portion of the stuff here is
nonsense.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Even my computer guy
who’s the expert on the system can’t get it to tell us something reasonable. He
even called the developers, who may not really understand my questions,
fundamental as they are, and it isn’t any better.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now the boss is
calling for his numbers, and he said last month it didn’t matter if they were
estimates, so I estimated. Only, my estimates of how many results of what kind
we reported don’t match with the estimates of how many patients we saw in each
particular context. Those numbers are someone else’s task, and I have not seen
them. Never mind that there’s a gap of a month or more between me reporting a
result and the patient having their appointment, so the numbers never match
exactly anyway. But they’re farther apart than the boss thinks is presentable.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So here I am with my
computer, wishing I had taken (and that I could have convinced my colleagues to
take) 1 minute longer for each report, just to add a line to a table. Just 1
damned minute.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For the boss, it is
just inconceivable that a computer program costing hundreds of thousands of
euros cannot simply and accurately extract this same information from its
database. Therefore, it can do so.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Only, no, it can’t.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The information I need
gathered is stored at different levels, in different boxes and categories and
technical whatnots, and Ariane simply cannot understand that –yes- I tested a
person for the family’s mutation, but –no-, she doesn’t carry it. If such
people exist they will be ignored.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">What am I doing about
it? What’s my work-around?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My first approach
would be to make the computer people help me ask the right questions and prove
the boss right. But this is France, and it’s Easter soon, and all the computer
people are on vacation.*<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So my second approach
is to realize that I can bring up a screen (though, alas, not an exportable
list) showing all the reports sent out in 2016. And then I can go to each
dossier and open each report, one at a time, and note on some handy table the 3
(just 3!) bits of information I need. Then, some hours later, I will be done.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Really, people.
Sometimes the slow way is the fast way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">*just while we’re on
about computer programs being so clever & all, in Word here I’m getting a
little squiggly green line telling me I should correct the “it’s” in that
sentence to “its”. Perhaps Word thinks France owns Easter?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-84493790134212077432017-03-30T18:38:00.003+02:002017-03-30T18:38:52.109+02:00San Juan and Masca<div style="text-align: justify;">
Thursday morning M and one of the other frenchies staying at the residence went shopping in Los Christianos, looking for a particular fake haute couture handbag and other gifts & souvenirs. </div>
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The Los Christianos tourist shopping area is like not a place I take any pleasure shopping at, so I left them to it, and hopped a bus the other way, back to San Juan. </div>
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San Juan is somewhat touristy, but only slightly and not for the screaming-rich. It's mostly a place where local people live and shop. </div>
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First off, I go back to the trail along the coast that we glimpsed our first day here, but didn't explore. Good idea!</div>
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I rejoin my friends for lunch, and then we drive up to Santiago del Tiede, which is near Masca, the famous local jewel of a village, one of the must-sees of the island.</div>
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After a quick look around, we take the widing road toward Masca. At first it seems like a nice drive, but we were meerly in a lull in the traffic. It would indeed be a great drive if it weren't for all the people driving it!</div>
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It's a narrow, 2-lane road that makes a steep descent with frequent switchbacks. There are lots of pullouts, which is good, and they are all overflowing with cars and vans and tourbusses, which is just what you get when everybody is here at once. After making three stops ourselves, we turn around and go home. Sylvie, our kind driver and one of the Tenerife timeshare regulars, has been here more than once before so she's not really interested in battling the traffic all the way down to the town.</div>
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OK. We're happy to see what we see.</div>
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The really neat way to see Masca anyway is to take the boat from Los Gigantes, then hike up the fabulous trail that follows the gorge. Will have to do that next time!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-5513350222545068282017-03-28T17:58:00.000+02:002017-03-28T17:58:13.866+02:00VilaforWednesday we thought we'd go for a Big Hike, so we got going marginally earlier than usual. We'd found a bus going to Vilafor, a town with one of the most attractive hikes in the guide book, with only one connection to make with the busses that pass in front of the Marazul residence. We could change at one of two stops in Los Christianos, and decided to try the second one.<br />
Well.... of the two busses going past Marazul, apparently one is the express bus and the other one stops every six or seven meters. But we didn't know which was which, and they both come by just every 40 minutes so you really just get on the first one to show up.<br />
When we finally arrived at the big bus station in Los Christianos, it was nearly 11. After several minutes of running around, we finally figured out that our ongoing bus had just left. And that in fact we had seen it leave a previous stop right as we were pulling in. The really bad thing was, that bus only runs once a day. Once. And we had seen it go.<br />
So, plan B?<br />
So many bus maps, so few real options. They make it look like busses are running all over the island, all day long, taking hardworking Spaniards and curious travellers to interesting destinations in a dynamic churn of people and vehicles. Yeah, some of them run only once a week.<br />
And then I saw a sign with taxi fare estimates to various destinations, including Vilafor. What the heck, we're on vacation.<br />
<br />
Half an hour later, here we are in Vilafor. Let's go hiking!<br />
Um, let's go hiking after lunch. There's a nice little café here on the town square, and they seem to cater to locals as well as tourists so it's our best bet yet for real local fare.<br />
mmmm, good idea! The rabbit in garlic sauce is incredible.<br />
<br />
Another idea, how do we get back to the residence later? If the bus comes up here once a day, it might go back down just once a day, too. Indeed it does: at 4pm. <br />
That's kind of early if we're going to do this hike.<br />
There are no taxis hanging around the village, but I do spy a hotel. Quite a nice looking place, run by a wonderfully nice and helpful young woman from Sheffield. She rings right away to reserve me a taxi for 6pm. After that it'll be getting dark, and it should be plenty of time for the 4 1/2 hour circuit described in the guide book.<br />
<br />
I'm really looking forward to a beautiful hike at a nice pace, some real exercise in this fresh air.<br />
My travelling companion, however, is rather interested in finding viable seeds for the local pines, so she stops every few meters to pick up a pine cone and check for seeds. And it's a steep hill and quite stony and we're slowed down by that too, and her knee is not in good shape.<br />
After a good hour, M decides she'd better turn back. The trail is too difficult to make the whole circuit before sundown, and even at a stroll on these rocks she might do some major damage. She'll wait for me in town.<br />
Checking the map, it seems we've done about 20% of the distance. I naturally set a fast pace when hiking alone, but it might now be a close thing to be back by 6. Depends on how much time I spend photographing the "moon landscape" that's the special feature of this hike.<br />
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There they are! the cool rock formations we came for!<br />
Ah, but they're tiny. And you can't get close up at all - too many tourists trampling all over would quickly ruin the site.<br />
Lucky I have a good zoom.<br />
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It would be neat to go down there and spend the day, watch the lighting change. But it's time to head back.<br />
I get back to town with time for a nice look around before our taxi comes. Vilaflor is a charming village, and if we ever come back to Tenerife, we'll make sure to stay here as our base for exploring the mountain trails.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-69275135436787102452017-03-23T12:38:00.000+01:002017-03-23T17:39:29.656+01:00Mardi GrasThen Tuesday it was Mardi Gras. I'm that far behind with posting all this.<br />
Our friends François & Claudine are also staying at the residence, and they invite us to drive with them to see the Mardi Gras festivities in Santa Cruz, the capital. The weather isn't great when we start out, but I have faith it will get better, as it has every afternoon so far.<br />
On the way, I see why the guide book shows no hiking trails for the whole southeastern quarter of the island: there's nothing much there to go look at.<br />
Arriving at lunchtime, we see a teeny bit of the city before settling down to eat at an outdoor place set up for the festival. Grilled sausages! Should have had them, because the paella was just rice with two lonely mussels. But the fried little fish and octopus were great, and the beer refreshing.<br />
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And now! for the parade! Some highlights only. Once the sun got low it was too chilly for us. A fun parade, though. Everybody was out there. Every school, church, club, and organisation of any kind, they were all out there in outlandish costumes, sashaying down the waterfront, strutting their stuff no matter how young or old. Good thing there were plenty of tourists, because without us there'd be nobody to watch it all.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-11144966778206015052017-03-22T18:19:00.001+01:002017-03-22T18:19:51.046+01:00Los Gigantesuh, so that was Sunday. <br />
Monday we took the bus to Las Gigantes.<br />
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These impressive cliffs have become so popular that the tourist town next to them ruins the effect. All those beautiful photos are very carefully cropped to delete the buildings rising higher and higher on the hillside, and even cutting into the cliffs themselves. The highest complex is an abandoned mess.<br />
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Yeah, I should talk. I myself am staying in a monstrous building that blights the view of the landscape for miles around. <br />
What we're most interested in here is finding the head of a hiking trail that goes along the cliff face for a couple kilometers before heading inland to a town where we can surely catch a different bus home. We've borrowed a hikers' guidebook from M's friends, and it says that the trail is officially closed, and that parts of it are dangerous and it's really not for those with vertigo. Oh, and there are a couple of long tunnels, so you'll need a light for the 5-hour hike.<br />
I don't intend to do the whole thing, I just want to get out of town, appreciate the landscape, and turn around.<br />
But we don't even seriously look for the trailhead, which is somewhere along the road our bus just took. M doesn't want to. I don't get that, but there's no forcing the issue.<br />
Fine. We look around the town, and for lunch somewhere along the spectacular coastline.<br />
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Lunch in the tourist trap is pretty lame. Boring, big-hotel food; not a cozy local joint in sight. But you can get a shot of the Giants without their creeping urbanisation, and a good look at one of the blowholes.<br />
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After lunch, M is so sick of the town that when we go to the bus stop for a trip out of here, she decides on a bus back to our lodgings. So I decide, well, why not stay and find the trailhead after all? And there was a beach promised, that we haven't seen. See ya later, alligator.<br />
The map in the book is pretty lame, but it's not a big town, how hard can it be to find? You can see the scar the trail makes from here. The thing is, I'm trying to follow the directions backwards, and it's written "50 meters after the big rock, turn right" and suchlike, so you have to anticipate. <br />
YEA I found the trail!<br />
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And it's a perfectly good trail.<br />
Any time now, it'll take a left and get back to the cliffs.<br />
A really hard left.<br />
Er, no, I've gone the wrong way, this is the loop heading to the town.<br />
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But it's pretty, and it's quiet. Just like I like it.<br />
An hour later, here we are. The trailhead to the part across the cliffs.<br />
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It really is closed, and hasn't been maintained for years. I try a bit, but I'm not a goat. Even the parts that look ok are covered with pebbles just waiting for you to slip on them, and then there is not much between you and the sea. So never mind. But I'm glad to have found it, and tried.<br />
Oh, look, from up here you can see the beach! There really is one, tucked away between the port and the foot of the cliff. We passed just 50 yards from it earlier.<br />
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It's after school now, and most of the beachgoers are local teenagers and families. It's nice. Not noisy with radios or shouting or anything. When I get there, there's a jellyfish warning posted, so people are just playing or sunning on the sand. Once they take that down, people immediately get out there on bodyboards (for what surf?), or just get their feet wet.<br />
Sun's going down - time to go catch a bus.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-3914673692115693012017-03-10T18:08:00.004+01:002017-03-10T18:08:44.861+01:00AdejeSunday we all went to the nearby town of Adeje to go to mass and then eat lunch.<br />
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Actually, everybody else went to mass while I explored a bit of the hillside. Two major hiking trailheads are right next to the restaurant where we were to meet at 12:30. The weather wasn't great, but the sharp volcanic terrain is pretty neat. I kept going up and up, hoping to get a better view of the crags, or down over the town to the sea, but didn't have a lot of luck. </div>
Here are a few shots:<br />
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Lunch was garlic chicken, the local potato recipe which uses egg-sized spuds covered with a layer of very fine salt & roasted, and wine. The carafe of rosé was so bad we sent it back, but we managed to suck down all the red they served us. The chicken was delicious - kind of dry, roasted with a thick covering of garlic & spices. </div>
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We were 10 at lunch, and afterwards some of the Tenerife regulars wanted to show those of us there for the first time some of the sights. So we took 3 cars and drove down to the ritzy part of town with its imported-sand beach.</div>
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Well, Bea drove like a person who knows where she's going, as she did. And in the crowded little streets full of pedestrians and crazy drivers, we lost the other two cars while searching for parking. Without all of us present, Bea just wanted to call it off and go back home to lounge by the pool. M and I were out for adventure, not for hanging around a hotel, no matter how well equipped, so we hopped out, vowing to make our own way back.</div>
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M's idea was to just walk, it being only a couple of miles along the coast. I thought that was nonsense, having paid attention to the terrain and the stretches of private property and impassable ravines on the way, but I was certainly game to walk as much as we could, then go inland to catch a bus.</div>
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We had a great walk once we got out of town. </div>
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It's a delicate thing to persist in looking for a way forward and obtaining your goal of getting all the way back on foot, versus deciding to cut your losses and hike the mile inland necessary to find a bus, or in our eventual case a taxi. If you wait too long, a fun outing can become a really annoying, footsore failure. Especially if between you and your travelling companion, your thresholds for no longer having fun are quite different.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4434099172039136838.post-30606292407534125362017-03-08T18:41:00.001+01:002017-03-08T18:41:20.024+01:00Tenerife: MarazulOh, has it really been that long? Time does fly. I keep meaning to blog, and then don't. As you can see. <br />
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With things being pretty calm at work, I was able to take a week off and get some sun. It hasn't been a very onerous winter this year, but a grey one all the same. Even sunny days in January I go to work in the dark and get home from work in the dark. <br />
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My friend Mariette was very keen to go to Tenerife, where a bunch of her friends would also be on holidays, and she did all the hunting around for cheap tickets and stuff. You can get some incredible deals if you pay attention to all the extras, like checking baggage and having an in-flight snack and picking your seat and how/when you check in, and priority boarding. If you want to travel in any kind of comfort, the low-costs end up costing just as much as any other airline.<br />
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So we drove down to Toulouse on Friday afternoon, to catch a 6 am flight. How much savings is there if you have to spend 40$ in tolls, more on gas, plus dinner and a hotel room, just to get a good fare? As a principle, I mean. Toulouse was the closest airport with a flight going where we wanted, so we had to go down there and there's only one flight a day. I was just scratching my head sometimes, listening to the others talk about their 100-euro deals for flights out of Barcelona - um, you have to <em>get</em> to Barcelona, and then get home from Barcelona...<br />
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But, oh, partly sunny in Tenerife! and temperatures you didn't have to wear a coat for!<br />
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We were on the south side of the island, the dry side. Marazul, where we stayed, is a giant timeshare complex a couple miles from the towns to either side. It had a little convenience store, a bar, two restaurants, a hairdresser's, a travel agency, and gift shop, so if you needed something you didn't have to drive anywhere to get through the day, or take the bus. <br />
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The first day we spent pretty much settling in and visiting with Bea & Jean-Paul, who spend every February in apartment 414. Here are some pics from the ravine on the west side of the complex.<br />
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I really liked the crabs. They must no be good to eat, or there would be far fewer of them. But they're really fun to play hide & seek with. I see you!<br />
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