Monthly Archives: August 2007

Visiting the castle of Saint-Germain-de-Livet

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The weather has been more clement this last week, and a couple days ago I went to visit this lovely castle, near Lisieux where I had been before, but without a camera.

Saint-Germain de Livet

A small XV-XVI century castle with a moat

A beautiful place, complete with a small park

Looking at the park

Looking over the park

This is how the checkered effect is made

wall detail

All the bricks come from Pays d’Auge

And the moat wouldn’t be complete without a family of swans, would it!

Swans

She kept her foot out for the longest time… I wonder why

It’s nice to get into the castle, but except for the first room, which has some amazing frescoes, the rest of the place has been filled with all sorts of things, mostly bits left by the former owner, who left the castle and its contents to the town of Lisieux.
But the castle itself and the gardens are just beautiful.

Fresco

Inside the first room

More of my photos of Saint-Germain de Livet here or here as a slideshow

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Wednesday Window: just born

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Baby calf (one day old)
I am one day old! Just look at my eyelashes!

I went to a farm yesterday and saw this calf, just born the day before. More photos of the farm here.
Click here for a better look at her eyelashes.

Totally unrelated, but important to me: if you have commented and not seen your comment appear, please let me know at Blogging.in.Paris AT gmail.com
It’s wordpress related, and unless I’m told, I can’t mention it to them

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Camping

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To listen to this post in French, click the blue arrow

A while ago, I read one of Millie Garfield’s post that brought back camping memories. You have to understand that, just like her, I am and have always been a city girl. One that hates bugs, isn’t too fond of farm animals, except at a reasonable distance of her camera zoom.
In 1976, with my husband, we flew to the US, borrowed some camping equipment, rented a car and drove all the way up to Canada, back to Chicago, Saint Louis, MI where we had a friend, and then back to Boston to return the car.
That was a lot of miles and since we couldn’t really afford motels or hotels, we went camping.
I don’t remember much about the camping, or maybe don’t want to remember much, but there is one story that stuck to my memory.
First of all, because Roland, my husband took great pleasure in telling it, and second because it’s rather an unpleasant episode.

Roland on camping siteIt was in the middle of an awful heat wave, one that was so hard, that I remember standing in a swimming-pool and actually feeling that I was sweating. I can’t remember where the camping site we stopped at was. But I do remember that when we got there, I loved the fact that there was as much room as we wanted. Our tent, one we had borrowed from some kind friends, was tiny. At least, considering our size.
Roland set up the tent, and I got out our ice-box, our plastic chairs, and whatever else was necessary. We had dinner and afterwards, I went to wash the dishes.
Then the problems started. This was a smelly washroom. Just as smelly or more, were the toilets and the bathroom. And bad smells are something I cannot put up with.
As the camping site was huge, I decided that I’d go and answer Mother Nature’s calls in one of the wild areas. And so I did… and just when I was most vulnerable a hord of huge mosquitoes flew on me and started biting me hard, in places that cannot be named! Let me tell you that it hurt like hell!
When I rushed back to the shelter of the tent to heal my wounds, with my pants still down, Roland laughed so hard that he couldn’t stop. Heartless man that he was! ;)
And for years after that episode, he enjoyed telling about how I rushed back to the tent, adding a detail here and there. I bet you that from where he is, he is still splitting his sides laughing

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Unfriendly Skies, from Paris to NewYork

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Ronni at Time Goes By just published a story very aptly titled Elders and the Unfriendly Skies. One of the reasons I hate taking planes is that for ‘security reasons’ you have to be at the airport hours ahead of time. If you think US airports are unfriendly, just try Roissy-Charles de Gaulle for a change.
When I took the plane to NewYork city, back in October, I booked for October 1st, I had to be there three hours ahead of time, and then they line you up like a herd of cattle, (a very large one, at that) with your suitcase, before you ever get to the boarding counter.
If they were organised, there would be a line for each destination, but I guess that would make the wait shorter, and that is not the idea, is it? Who cares about elders, mothers with babies, or anyone else for that matter?
And who cares about being efficient?
So I stood in line for two solid hours. I was lucky, because my daughter and her boyfriend were with me and kept my place in line while I sat once in a while. This was all done for one man to ask me if I had packed my suitcase myself.

OVer the clouds
I didn’t take this photo on the flight over to NYC, but when I flew to Manchester

When I got my boarding card, and my daughter had helped me put my suitcase on the conveyor belt (no one will help you there, unless YOU ask), I had to stand in another line for police security. And there again, everyone in the same line, wherever you went. After taking off my shoes, starting my laptop, throwing away my bottle of Evian water, I got to the other side long after my plane was supposed to have taken off.
They wait for you, I guess, which is another reason why planes are always late.

That wasn’t the end, since I had to walk through long corridors till I got to the boarding gate. There I had to board a bus, be jerked around as there were no seats available, to the plane and there, climb up the stairs. When I got to my seat, I was exhausted.
I was grateful that I had an aisle seat and that there was no one sitting next to me. But the idea of being cooped up in a space that is meant for someone the size of an eight-years old for six hours is anything but pleasant.
I loved my trip to the States, but am not sure I’ll ever go back. Too exhausting.

Incidentally, I cannot even remember which company I flew. Not that it would make any difference. Big companies are all awful and couldn’t care less about your comfort.

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