FRANCE Summer 2012: July 27, 2012… from SFO to Paris (via Houston) to Avignon …

Bonsoir (from Avignon)-

I warn you in advance — this is a very tame travelogue… nothing exotic.  We’re headed to see Mike’s brother in the south of France (it’s his birthday and we are part of the surprise); then on to Berlin for a few days; from there to Brno, Czech Republic overnight to see the family of an old friend who passed away about a month ago (we were headed to see him on the 10th anniversary of his heart transplant surgery) and then he died unexpectedly; and then loop back to Paris for a few days of walking and eating.

Finally, we are now in Avignon.

Survived a series of incredibly intense and long days and weekends over the past two weeks, finishing several projects, getting caught up on others, managing to have a few surprise urgent projects with quick turnaround… and attempting to fit in as many films as possible at the always-wonderful San Francisco Jewish Film Festival..  so packing and our departure were a bit insane. But it was a little worse than a bit insane this time. I managed to finish packing at 2 am on Wednesday night (Thursday morning) and the alarm went off at 4:30 for the 5:30 taxi pick up. Mike never did finish so he just stayed up. Left SFO almost without a hitch. We had a strange connection — SFO to Houston; Houston to Paris (??)  Getting to SFO at about 6 am, we stopped for a little petite dejeuner – American style – at the airport and then realized it was nearly time to board. Didn’t look closely enough at the boarding passes; we were leaving from Gate 96 … which I thought sounded a bit high, but headed to the end of the United Concourse (gate 90) just as we realized that Gate 96 is in the International Terminal… But we were going to Houston and changing planes to cross the ocean there… Anyway, as I always surmised, Texas is another country. And when you are going from the Bay Area they understand this and send you through the international terminal. Made the flight and tried to nap on the plane, but wound up watching Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (which I had already seen) on the screen.

Nearly missed the Paris connection, because there were storms over Texas (how appropriate) and we were told that we might land as much as two hours late (definitely miss the connecting flight) or just 5 minutes late. Landed about 35 minutes late which was fine except that the walk between gates and terminals in Houston is definitely Texas size. Fortunately we were upgraded, so the flight was fine.. arrived at Charles DeGaulle at 8:15 am Paris time (close to midnight body time, having been up by then for just about 40 hours. But we were not staying in Paris..

We were headed toward the Air France bus to take us to the train station (Gare Lyon) which doesn’t have direct connection from CDG.. to get to Avignon… when Mike said he was too tired to negotiate the bus and decided on a taxi, which he admitted halfway into the drive was probably a mistake. Those Air France coaches are pretty cushy. So we arrived at Gare Lyon with about three hours to waste… But then – Lara to the rescue. Our goddaughter came to the station to join us for coffee and we chatted so the three hours went quickly. At the table next to us a couple started a short conversation with us (they heard us speaking English). They are currently living in Florida, but had lived most of their professional lives in San Jose and were originally from Ohio. While the initial conversation was cordial (she hates Florida), a few minutes later they overheard our conversation with Lara about the status of the Presidential election — and she quickly turned and said — “Oh if you want to hear the other side, you should sit at this (her) table; “Our concern is that we don’t want to live in a country with a king and all his welfare people.” That pretty summed it up as a voice from America.

Took the TGV to Avignon… whre we rented a car at the station and found our way through the walled city to the Cloitre San Louis — a hotel that I stayed in this past February (without Mike). A 16th Century renovated cloister, with a new addition by Jean Nouvel. As Mike crashed into deep sleep oblivion, I showered and then took a walk around town — realizing just how much season matters. I was here in February for 5 days and it snowed and was windy and extremely cold; days were short; sun was non-existent. Today, we drove up to the hotel at around 6 pm, it was 80 degrees; the sun was shining and hot. In February, Carol and I were practically the only people out in the streets (temperature was about 30); tonight as I took a walk from 6:30 to 8, the streets were packed, cafes were all full (Unlike Mike who zonked out at 5:30 pm, just five minutes after we arrived in Avignon — I believe you need to stay up as late as you can to normalize your body and your psyche into the new time zone; that’s why I change the time on my watch to the new zone as soon as I board a plane).

So Avignon looks totally different than it did in February. In February, with things covered with flecks of snow and the wind blowing and the skies extremely blue — Avignon was like a precious gem without much life, given that there were so few people around — no tourists, only actual Avignon residents at work inside buildings. It sparkled. Now it’s fun and lively, full of people, markets, and street vendors.. noisy, a bit gritty, but totally lovely. Lots of tourists (or so I suspect because you hear a lot of languages) and people are literally lining up to get tickets to one of the many, many performances that are happening in dozens of venues — inside and out.

We’re headed for dinner soon (9:30 here in France); Mike has emerged.

Tomorrow after a somewhat leisurely breakfast, we’ll explore summer in Avignon again (Been here once before in June but only passing through) and then head to Violes which is about 7 miles from where Mike’s brother lives (in Cairanne).

The real story will unfold tomorrow.

Best –

Fern