The other day when I went to the grocery, I picked up some delicious things. My plan was to cook for myself, but I kept putting it off. This morning, I got ambitious.
I took out the spinach and put it in the colander and poured boiling water over it. I cut up potatoes into tiny little pieces. I chopped up an onion and put it in the pan with what was sure to be a gastronomic pleasure. I popped in some vegan butter, and tried to turn on the stove.
I was pushing buttons like it was a typewriter, and nothing happened. Nothing. I tried turning it off and turning it on again, but to no avail. I tried for a good 15 minutes to figure out how to work the stove, but no.
The stove was smarter than I and I ended up going to my favorite place for breakfast. They make better coffee than I do anyway.
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.
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.
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.
I can’t believe it!The Afghan restaurant where I atePotato 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!
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.
Okay, I’ll admit it. I want to be safe in the sense that I don’t get shot in my house. I want to be safe in the sense that when I walk down my streets at night with my little dog, waiting on her to do her “business”, I’m not going to be attacked. I want to be safe enough that when I follow the road rules, I don’t get in an accident because others also want to be safe, or rather, unharmed.
But there is a part of me that doesn’t want to be safe. Being safe takes a chunk away from the loudness of life. It reduces the voices of exuberant laughter to polite chuckles. It sucks the genuine grief from our deepest fears and distills it into quiet murmuring condolences. It shatters the adventure of stepping one foot outside of your comfort zone by giving the illusion of safety.
But safety, like everything, is an illusion. It’s not real. It surprises us because we expect things to be the same. We expect to wake up, go about our day without incident, return home, eat the same meal we did last week, watch regurgitated shows with different characters but the same stories, and go to bed at the same time. It’s our expectation of safety that, pardon my french, fucks us up.
Chaos and change are the way of the world. If we could control any of it, we’d be reasonable in our expectations, but we do not. We can do our best not to contribute, by following the rules, obeying laws, keeping an eye out for ne’er-do-wells, but being safe is a lie we tell ourselves so we can live with minimal fear.
My Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Dave are driving a different route back from their vacation in Maine. It has places for them to stop that they’ve never been before which means the potential for a fantastic adventure. But in the commentary on their shared pictures, there were all the comments from a variety of people telling them to, “Be safe.” The comments are made with love and not as admonitions, mind you. They are meant with the best of intentions. But I don’t think I’ll wish them the same.
I wish them to be unharmed but in no way to be safe. I want them to have the adventure they’re hoping for on the new route. I want them to have experiences that will give them the best adventure with minimal difficulty. I want them to see things so spectacular it takes their breath away because they chose to stop somewhere they wouldn’t ordinarily get to see. I want them to experience every drop of grandness in the views, every bliss to be had floating on the breeze. I want them to taste the rain as if it were their first time. To have Ruby show them the newborn idea of life heroic in a way that brings them fits of delight. But, I do not wish them to “be safe”.
Martian Sunset by Mare Martell 2015 15X30 Acrylic on Board FOR SALE!
The InSight mission to Mars is coming up on March 04, 2016 as a way to monitor and learn more about the surface of the planet. My husband Ben and I, he moreso than I, share a love for the space program and the many discoveries that are found. If you’d like to participate in a “trip to Mars”, send me all your money follow the link below to join others that believe in the power of exploration as well.
The deadline for signing up to have your name sent to mars is September 8th, 2015, so hop to it gumball! Here is the link to do that, RIGHT HERE! and below is a link to the picture of my “boarding pass.”
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.
Mare Martell 