Monthly Archives: September 2023

Day Eight, Caen Botanical Gardens

I woke up late because yesterday I drank too much caffeine and so I was still wide awake this morning at 5AM! That’s only 11PM in East Tennessee, but still. I wishy-washed about what to do and finally decided I’d start with a double espresso (Will I ever learn?!) and some breakfast. I went to the spot where the man speaks enough English to take my order.

It feels sort of sub-human not to be able to do much but grunt and point. I have mastered the order for espresso, so that’s a plus. Bon Jour is common, Merci’, Desole (Diz-ole’) which means Sorry, Au revoir. So far I’ve been able to skate by with those small phrases, but if anyone asks me something in French, I just stare blankly at them, point to my chest, and say American. Most of them laugh at me, which, truly, I deserve.

While enjoying the atmosphere of the restaurant, I decided to look for a park.

I asked Google maps for the nearest parks. I sorted them by distance, selected a Botanical garden and set off. Now, before I go any farther in this story, let me explain something Google didn’t get. When I asked for a garden or park, I didn’t mean the street name. I arrived at the destination only to find that it was a street. MAOU!

Looking at the map, however, I noted that the Caen Botanical Garden wasn’t far away, so I adjusted my sails and set off again.

The little car was painted like the Love Bug Herbie. It was cute and the woman who owned it was an older woman with dyed dark hair. When I put up my camera, she smiled radiantly and laughed.

The screeching I could hear echoing off the building walls turned out to be this handsome seagull. Skyrats I’ve heard them called, but he was none to happy to be hanging out in the neighborhood.

The next picture is a shot down the street where Google sent me to the wrong place. It felt a bit overwhelming with all the details involved in the shot, but the street, itself, was quiet.

The last picture in this set reflects the height, the gothic style, and the detailing of the old homes. Each house on the street had a different, although similar, style. Some had carparks, others had on street parking. I recognize some of the car brands, but there are many I don’t.

At the end of the street, I turned left and walked a good length of block. At the nearby roundabout, there were people bustling about their day. Many of them seemed to be about 65+, carrying groceries, and dressed conservatively.

This is a sign. No, really. I understand the basic words, but I had to use Google translate to really understand. I didn’t bother with the names of the plants because they are carefully curated, marked, and I wanted to enjoy the time I had.

Yes, that’s me. A face with the name. Mare Martell.

Noel Bernard (1874-1911) demonstrated in this greenhouse the symbiosis or fungi in tuberous roots of orchids.

The scent of the earth in the garden was so rich with alien fragrances that it made it hard to breathe…breathtaking. Even in early Autumn, the flowers and plants were holding true to their lives. The temperature was 64 degrees, partly sunny, a breeze blowing but the redolence cleansed my spirit.

Several groups of French schoolchildren were being ushered through the phytology. The teacher attempting to hold their attention was chattering to them as much as they were chittering to each other.

I sat on a bench for a bit to engage my senses with my surroundings. Other than the children in the distance, it was peaceful. Hidden birds in the trees sang praises to the sky. Life is good.

The music of water called to me. I heeded the melody to an eight foot tall cascade tumbling languidly into a shallow pond. I wanted to sit and watch the waterfall, but the carved log bench across from it had been knocked off its base and was resting in an awkward angle removing that possibility.

To the left of the waterfall were some rough stone steps. I climbed up them to the top. The first picture in the above series was my reward. The third picture shows an odd growth pattern. It stretched across the ground for about nine feet before reaching its trunk to the sky. The last picture is a water garden feature. On the bottom right, you can see where it meanders into a stream. The lily pads were growing as if an artist had chosen that precise spot to place them. I sat on a bench and drank in the beauty for a while.

And then there were the sculptures scattered among the natural features. These were a bit more contemporary, but the following statues follow a more traditional sense of aesthetic.

The neatly trimmed hedges that give background to these was being trimmed by a man on a very tall ladder. They are precisely cut to 90 degree angles at the top, forming a box-like structure to them.

An interesting trellis.
The ceiling in the bistro.
A fiery flower near the trellis.

As I made my way back to the apartment where I’m staying, I reflected on the sensory contentment I experienced. It’s like history pumping through my veins in such a magical way that I’ve been absorbed into the world. The architecture is so beautiful that even though things are close together, even touching or seamless, there is a sense of spaciousness. A liberation of the senses that I’d equate to a dream-like state that I don’t want to wake up from any time soon.

My spirit is happy. My heart is full. My body, although cranky, is grateful for the vigor in which I’m engaging with the city. My guidance is to travel as often and as far as possible. Although I’ve traveled quite a bit of the United States, experiencing the uncertainty of the unfamiliar has been extraordinary. And to think, if it weren’t for my clients, I wouldn’t be here! Peace be with you.

End of Week One

If you’d told me a year ago I’d be sitting in an apartment in Caen with the windows open, a breeze cooling the air, and a kebab on my dinner plate, I’d have called you some names including a liar. But, here I am doing just that. Unbelievable!

Today was ideal. I woke up when I was rested, took a shower, took my meds, ate some breakfast, made some coffee in my new pot, and enjoyed the quiet of the courtyard. This is pretty much as close to perfection as I’ve ever experienced.

As I was walking to the bus stop, I passed a fresh fish store. It smelled just like you’d imagine, but the fish looked fresh on the ice.

Before I got on the correct bus, a middle-school aged boy asked me if I knew which bus would take him to the Caen Memorial. Since I’d seen it on the bus I take, I told him I suspected the same line, but with a bit of research on my Twisto app, I found that the number 2 bus is the one he was looking for and, as luck would have it, it was arriving a short distance from where we were. It felt good, again, to help someone despite my navigational and language challenges.

The absolute beauty I get to experience while I ride the bus has made me feel a bit greedy for more sites. The first picture is a church a couple miles away from where I’m staying. The second one is a florist/garden shop on/in Richemont that I see each day I travel to Rosel. It’s just so lovely I had to share.

It wasn’t long after that before the University students started piling on the bus. The body heat made the temperature jump up a good 10 degrees. A girl, maybe 18-ish or so squeezed into the seat next to me. We sat in silence for a while. I pulled out my bag of tiny little yellow ducks and gave one to her with a smile and the word “Bonheur” (It is pronounced kind of like Bon-oo) which means happiness. She smiled back and put the little duck in a pocket in her bag.

I arrived in Cairon Commerces at 1:30pm and as promised, my client’s fantastic wife was there to greet me with her grandson driving. I loaded into the car and enjoyed yet another ride.

The exercise with my client was better today, although not where he was. I asked if he wanted me to come more frequently for a while to get him back up to snuff. He politely declined and said that three times a week was ample.

Then I was told the news that my planned stay in their villa would be more complicated than originally expected. There was a discussion about introductions, building relationships, and then asking if it were okay. I was not okay with that uncertainty.

Airbnb helped me to find and arrange a place to stay in the two weeks that I’d already had planned. Both of the places I’m staying in already were already booked so I ended up finding a third place in Caen to stay. I’m not even upset about the extra expense, mostly because I’m moving all over the city finding new neighborhoods, new paths, and it’s freaking exciting!

From my bus stop to return home, I can see the private property chateau, a field that has construction taking place on it, and a Cairon memorial. The wind was around 25mph today. I contemplated talking to the conductor, but I thought better of it since I’d not understand his response. My hair was a massive knot when I got back to the apartment. It was surprisingly not cold though.

Of note, the roads are ridiculously narrow as I’ve mentioned before. It’s harrowing enough in a car, but to witness the conductors navigate the tight corners is really impressive and worth mentioning again. Two busses can’t comfortably fit side by side on the roads farther out from town.

The ride home was uneventful and felt familiar already which I found surprising. I arrived at my bus stop and searched for a pharmacie. I found one and asked for band-aids and some antibiotic cream like Neosporin. They sell band-aids that come in a long strip that you have to cut the length you want. They also sell the ones I’m accustomed to, coincidentally with an antibiotic in the pad. I was unable to secure some antibiotic cream because it requires a prescription here. WHA?!?! I’ll make do, but I was surprised to learn that.

The church bells have signaled 8PM. Typically I hear one church, or rather I’ve only noticed one. Tonight I heard three distinctly different bells announcing the end of day. When I lived in Grand Rapids on College Avenue, I could faintly hear a church bell ring at noon. Here, it’s like the melody of the day.

I will be sad when this time here ends, but I’ll think about that later. For now, this Dude is abiding in It’s a Wonderful Life.

Day Six, in Caen, Normandie

This grouping of pictures was what I saw while waiting for the bus this afternoon.

While I was waiting, I had difficulty buying a bus pass because the site was in French and my card kept getting declined. Turns out they hadn’t fully activated the card and I was finally able (after missing the bus I needed) to get things arranged correctly and purchase a month pass.

While at the bus stop, a woman approached me and asked for water which I’d just purchased. She had blood all over her pants and it didn’t appear to be hers. I don’t usually carry tissues in my bag, but today I did. With a few of those and some of the water, she was able to get most of the blood out of her pants. She thanked me profusely.

Not even two minutes later, a young man no older than 20 approached, his nose was gushing blood. I gave him the rest of the tissues because he needed them more than I did. Merci’ was repeated several times. I felt pretty dang good being able to help even when language is a barrier.

The number 23 bus arrived and I used my new ticket…on the wrong QR code. OY! But with a bit of squeaking, I was able to actually get the right one.

Riding on the bus has never been like this in the States. There are random plaques stuck on walls, the busses are clean, and the neighborhoods are insanely beautiful. I thoroughly enjoyed the entire experience on my way to Rosel to work with my client.

The views were incredible!

As the bus pulled into the end of the line, the neighborhood was graced with gated gardens, colorful roofs, and flowers everywhere. And, sheep. Sheep?

Freaking sheep! As it turns out, Line 23 of their buses alternates between a tiny little village and Cairon, which is where I was supposed to be. Dude…

Anyway, with Google translate in hand, I had a conversation with the conductor (They aren’t called drivers here) and she graciously realized my mistake and confusion. We chatted for a bit using our phones as the go between. The sheep, she explained were white or black mutton according to their wool color.

The breeze and scent of that stop was breathtaking. I don’t think I’ve experienced such bliss at a bus stop with sheep bah-ing nearby as the wildflowers danced.

She got me to the correct stop and alerted the other driver about the idiot on board (just kidding, American (although that can feel synonymous here.) And off I went on the correct bus.

It was 1.4 miles from my destination on foot. I can do that, right? Sure I can! I started off at a brisk pace carefully following the GPS as if it were a religion. As I slowed, because I’m fat and out of shape, I began to pay attention to the world around me.

As I walked the path I was told to, I was in awe of the provincial sites I was witnessing. It gave me a sense of deep peace, curiosity, and wonder. It practically felt as if I were living in a dream with no grounding in reality.

By the way, 1.4 miles isn’t that far, I acknowledge that, but when you’re not really sure where you are and a bit hesitant to trust when the GPS sends you down a literal cow-path, it feels daunting.

Finally! I arrived in the small village of Rosel. The roads are very narrow so there is a gravel rut on the side so the vehicles can pass one another. Watching the conductors skillfully navigate the extremely tight turns was rather impressive.

AND! I MADE IT!

I spent time with my clients and realized how dramatic of a difference two weeks without exercises had been for him. Although I have to admit, playing ball with him again was total top hat. I was able to do a load of laundry, but dryers are not common here. I packed up my folded damp clothes and toted them back with me.

You’re not going to believe this, but I got on the wrong bus AGAIN! I mean it was the right one, but going the wrong way. I explained through the translator where I needed to go. The conductor told me to get off the bus, cross the street and wait. After a turn-around, she was ready to head back to Caen. I’m going to be a pro at this rate!

This is the correct stop for me to find my way back to the city. It was a hard lesson to learn but lucky for me, I’m evidently a slow learner.

There is a place for me here.

Once I got back to the apartment, I pulled out my handy portable clothesline, unpacked my damp clothes, and hung them to dry.

It wasn’t long after this that I crashed for four hours. It’s been a physical challenge for me to walk as much as possible. I need to get down to where I feel like a human again instead of a large person.

I love you. I miss you. Not enough to come home yet, but eventually. 🙂

Day Five

I went to breakfast at a place called Sandwichs and Salades. The walk there was pleasant if not a bit breezy. I got to people watch while I enjoyed my nourriture.
Their menu was filled with deliciousness (minus the poulet of course). I chose the following for breakfast:
A trois fromage panini, a bag of Bolognaise chips (not too impressed), and the “Nectar of the Gods”, a double espresso.
This is the very efficient apartment I’m staying at in Caen for the rest of September. It has everything someone could need to set up house. It’s perfect. Airbnb did me a solid by listing this place!
This is the view I get to wake up to in the morning. It’s been a tad chilly today with a nice breeze blowing through. The windows nearly go floor to ceiling.
Have you ever seen a toilet paper holder like this one?! The paper comes out a slot in the bottom (heehee, I said bottom).
My shopping retrieval system

I had a bit of difficulty finding a shopping cart when I entered the store. They keep theirs outside in the carpark in corrals like we have in the US only they have tokens like Aldi’s does to use them. There were conveyor belts that took shoppers and their carts from the ground floor (aka 0) to the first floor.

It was a bit of a confusion for me as well that there are self-scanners that a loyal customer can use to shop. It’s kind of like self-checkout only you have the dreaded cashier at the end to verify your purchased items. That’s my understanding of how it works but I could be wrong.

On the East side of the store were practical items like the grocery buggy I purchased, candles, gardening, auto repair stuff, all similar items to what you might find in a Walmart, although, everything is in French so out came my handy Google Image Translator which helped me navigate pretty easily when I remembered to use French to English. Facepalm.

They freaking sell hard liquor and wine in the grocery store! It’s all self-serve which I thought was pretty darned neat to see. There were no drunken brawls or anything. Just ordinary people selecting their beverage of choice.

I found bodywash, shampoo, a poof, and full sized toothpaste in the toiletries aisle. I found the produce section and had to watch how other people were doing it before I figured it out. You take a paper sack that has a clear view window on the side, load up which you like, then take the items to a central station in the middle of the section. The clerk weighs each bag after verifying contents then puts a price sticker on it. Saves hassle at the register for checkout.

I scored a fresh baked baguette that was still warm. I picked up a few other items including “Mountain Milk” which turned out to be spoiled when I got home.

As you can see by the buggy, it’s quite full. I paid less than 100 Euros for everything. I couldn’t believe it! No sticker shock or buyer’s remorse. The prices you see on the shelf are the price you pay. No bullshit, just straight up. BTW, taxi’s are like that too.

I thought I forgot my mouse for my computer, so I set off on a walk to a store nearby that carried the wireless critter. This entire street on the way was lined with various restaurants, bistros, bars, hair salons, and was quite busy.
On the return trip, I looked down this street and saw art coming up out of the ground. It made my heart so happy to see creativity so openly displayed.
This is where the art is.
This street is utterly charming. There are many residences and businesses co-mingling among the historic style buildings. I felt like I was walking through a history that is far more primal than where I am from and where I live.

And now for the funny story besides the fact that I found my stupid mouse hiding while I was looking for my other outlet adapter. Facepalm again.

What you’re looking at are the pieces of my French press (HA! I nearly typed oppressed!) Why is that amusing? Well, I decided to give it a go. I used my translator to read the directions and was able to successfully brew a two cup pot of satisfying coffee. When they say don’t use fine ground coffee, they aren’t lying (spits out coffee grounds).

Anyway, after I’d consumed the delectable bitterness, there was a small amount of liquid and of course the grounds in the bottom. After pondering my next action, I figured, I’d just dump them down the toilet (because I didn’t know what else to do, okay?!)

I brought the pot into the bathroom and dumped the contents AND the glass container directly into the toilet. I didn’t know it came apart! I was worried I’d cracked the jar, but I didn’t. It got a thorough hot water and soap cleaning (thrice). Now that I know, I’ll make a better plan in the future.

It’s nearly midnight here in Caen, while you’re still looking at nearly 6PM EDT. Tomorrow I get to start working for the family I came here for. I will have to navigate a bit (I know, good luck!) but I will show up precisely when I mean to, and not a minute before.

Day four continues…

After over a two hour delay and having arrived at the stop unwittingly four hours in advance, I’m on my way to Caen, Normandie, France.

It kind of looks like a very green version of Arkansas that I’ve driven through a few times.

There is a bathroom on the bus but it is full and can’t be used. The wi-fi works but doesn’t connect to the internet. 🙄

If you asked me if I’ve been upset at the ridiculous amount of delays so far on this trip, I’d have to be honest and tell you no. Each step of the way, I’ve found reasons to be joyful, comfortable in my uncertainty.

Lost? No problem. How can I solve this issue? Google maps has been a lifesaver. Language barrier? No sweat. Pull out Google translate. Uncertain of what to do for activities? Airbnb has excellent suggestions. Not sure what’s nearby to eat? UberEats was surprisingly easy to use in Paris.

Although I have questioned my navigation skills, I’m still arriving exactly when I need to be somewhere. I’m okay. This is an extraordinary experience. I’m just as glad for the bumpy bits as well as the smooth sailing.

This was the sight I got to look at for several hours while waiting for the 4:55pm bus which didn’t show up until 7:15pm.
This was looking up the street where I waited with good company.
After the bus made it to Caen, I waited for the local tram to collect me and my newfound friend.

Call me foolish, or call me an idiot, but the woman on the left is my new friend Marie France. I saw her ID, no kidding. She and I, along with several other people waited for the same bus to arrive. Each time we’d see a bus, we’d collectively get excited then collectively disappointed.

We talked about what we do for a living and what our passions are, which as you can well guess, death and dying came up. It was a great discussion. Marie bought us all water and refused to accept anything in return. When the bus arrived, we sat in our assigned seats which was sadly not near each other.

However, when we got off the bus in Caen, she asked how I was going to get where I was going. I explained about the tram and the walk from the stop to where I’m staying. She pish-poshed me and told me nonsense. She would drive me home.

Without even thinking about it, I accepted. The picture I took of her is after I told her to give me her beautiful. She laughed out loud and got bashful. She works as a greeter at the hospital in the second picture, but there is rumor they’re going to eliminate the position. She’s not worried though. She said she’ll find something else in the office environment.

Her gray car had suicide doors! She hustled about clearing the front seat for me to ride since my luggage and hers took up the back seat. I practically live in my car too. I reassured her, she was not alone.

At that moment, I thought about human trafficking and freaking A if I didn’t scare myself a bit with that, but it was all okay. She not only made sure I got where I was going and that I was able to get in. The Farside had a cartoon:

This has been me since I got here.

I got the keys, no problem. I got the code right, no problem. The door has a handle which looks like a pull, so that is what I kept doing. Marie, on the other hand, pushed the door open while I, you guessed it, FACEPALM.

She made sure I got into the first floor (second floor in America) apartment. We hugged and she left to go to her own well deserved bed.

I’m sorry I forgot to include this in the original post. It was an invaluable time with a very special person I feel fortunate to have met. She was impressive with her speaking of several languages as natural as a native born. Wherever you are, Bless you for being you, Marie France.

Day Four so far…

I took a bus/train combo according to Google maps. I arrived too late to catch the morning bus to Caen. Surprisingly the trains and the bus were clean although a bit crowded with my luggage in tow. The evening bus leaves at 4:55pm Paris time.
L’arcouest is a quiet neighborhood bar near the bus stop. The bartender didn’t speak a lick of English but I was able to order a double espresso.
This was deeply good. Served with water which I drank separately. People watching glory!

The wheel on my brand new luggage suffered the same fate as my first bag. And man do the French love their steps! I walked down two flights of about 30 steps each to access the correct train. What goes down must go up which made me lift my 50lb suitcase and my 20lb carryon up about 40 steps. Many people helped me with them which was surprising and helpful.

Traveling lesson learned, make sure you have sturdy all-terrain wheels on your luggage. You don’t need everything you think you will. Pack lighter than you think.

More to come…

Day Three

I’m having a hard time believing this is real. I’m really in Paris!

The Weekend has served me The Nectar of the Gods each day. I left them a tiny yellow duck, an Always Beautiful card and a Euro.
Each one of these locks have messages of love on them. Some of them are engraved, some are painted, others have been written on with markers. It was across the river from the Eiffel Tower. There were houseboats moored there.
One of the locks.
It’s a lot taller than I thought it would be.
The Jardin de Troubadour is filled with tourists, myself included.
A small garden had a butterfly enjoying the sunshine and flowers.
This was a sight to behold.
And finally for this part of the day, I took a stroll with a Parisian Pigeon.
Arch de le Triumph was massive. I got lost and ended up taking a taxi to the Eiffel Tower.

Navigating the public transportation has proven to be a challenge, but I found my way back to where I’m staying and most of the way to my meet-up.

The trains are clean and mostly not too crowded. The stops are lit in LEDs so you know where you are. Although I couldn’t figure out how to get on the train at first, I was helped by a tall security guard.

When I got lost, I lost trust in my navigation skills a bit, but, I got to see additional things because of my lack of knowledge. All in all, today has been a win so far.

In the Jardin le Troubadour

Day two

I can’t believe it!
The Afghan restaurant where I ate
Potato and spices served hot in fresh bread. It was served with a sour yogurt, a spicy sauce, tomatoes, cucumber, and lettuce. It was SO good!
Because of this…
This happened. 😑
My view from my room in Paris.
French “Nectar of the Gods!”
Sunrise as I saw it this morning over Paris.

The first plane was broken so they brought a second one on the 13th of September but that one got hit by lightning after most of us were boarded which blew out communications. American Airlines put us up in hotels overnight and scheduled the flight for 3pm on the 14th. We got delayed yet again by windshield issues. Finally took off around 4:15pm!

Day One

Complications happened that delayed my plans. Mechanical issues then a replacement plane followed by a lightning strike that took out communications on the new plane.

I got to stay in a nice hotel with a delicious breakfast and even better company. I ate with a young Parisian woman named Hannah who is a journalist returning to her hometown.

I’m okay with this adventure. The Dude abides.