best ever

I’m writing this with the confidence that all of my California friends and family are busy watching the olympics right now.

Best.  Race.  Ever.  Period.  Best of all time.  American record lead-off (that, in-fact, was .01 off the previous world record that was broken in the same heat).

Fastest relay split ever.  46.06.  I can’t even do that yards right now.

Fastest heat ever.  FIVE teams under the world record (which you should know was broken in prelims by the American B team.  Yes, our B team).  So imagine going a world record and not even getting a medal.

I cast my vote for this as the greatest race of all time.  In any sport.  In any event.  The greatest race, of all time.

But that could just be the adrenaline still pumping.  That was incredible.

dangerous book…

Yesterday I was bored (people are out of town.  I’m still on ’sabbatical’ from school work) and laying around the house.  I picked up the copy of “The Dangerous Book for Boys” my pops gave me for my birthday last year.  Started reading.  One of the chapters is a detailed description of how to build a tree house.

I want to build a tree house.

We never had a tree house when I was growing up.  I don’t know if it was because of where we lived, or what we were doing, or why, really, but we never had a tree house.  My brother and I didn’t get in to trouble out in the woods, we didn’t build forts in the wilderness.  Well, there weren’t any forests around our house…  But you get the idea.  Anyways, I really want to build a tree house now.  Does anyone have a tree in which they would like a tree house?  It would be sweet…

Last night was the perfect summer evening.  I ended up going for a bike ride around 8, just around town, because I can.  And it was glorious.  People were out doing stuff, walking, laying in the grass in the park, watching the sun go down.  I loved it.  Summer is awesome.  I’m leaving right now to go hear a free concert on campus.  Some guy.  Acoustic.  I think I might take a nap under the trees.

on returning.

Well, I’m back in the States.  Back in Utah.  Back in the office.  But don’t worry–I’m only here taking advantage of the very free and very fast internet.  I’m going to lunch with the dudes from my lab and then I’m leaving, not to return until August.  But it’s surreal to be back.  Strange.  Nice, familiar, but strange.  I was walking to grab the bus to church yesterday morning, walking through campus, and it was weird.  I can’t believe how fast the last three and a half months have gone by.  It’s nice seeing familiar faces, nice hearing English and being able to communicate easily with anyone and everyone, nice seeing all of the ads for outdoor concerts and markets and festivals.  So much to do.

A quick recap of our last few days in France.  After leaving Mont Saint Michel, we drove to Vitre via Fougeres (really cool Castle we got locked in when the museum staff left for lunch.  Plate of mussels for our own lunch) and found a quiet farmhouse B&B.  No one was there except the daughter of the couple who own it.  We got a room, drove the 15 minutes into Vitre for cheese, baguette, fruit, and wine for dinner.  It was so pleasant we decided to just lounge the following day and spend an extra night in Vitre.  Leaving Vitre we headed towards Carnac.  We stopped along the way to see La Roche aux Fees, a bunch of very, very large rocks that formed kind of a room used for ritualistic purposes or something.  It’s about 4000 years old.  In Carnac we saw Les Alignements–a bunch of rocks standing on end in very orderly rows.  There were several large sites throughout the region.  Unfortunately we couldn’t walk through them.  Those were 4000-4500 years old.  Crazy.

Leaving Carnac, we drove on small roads to Guerande, the salt town, where we ate hamburgers (really, really good, and with a twist on American burgers), walked through a medieval walled city, and bought some pottery.  Moved on to a little town called Noyant, heading back towards Paris.  We found a cheap hotel, very seedy, but it did us just fine for the evening.  The next morning we stepped out of the hotel to the farmer’s market where we bought some cherries, along with some pastries from the bakery.  Drive back to Paris, return the car, and hit up our hotel.  Pizza and beer for dinner our last night together, and Saturday morning off to the airport.

As of right now, I’m not sure if my uncle has made it on a flight home yet.  After sitting for three hours in business class (he gets good upgrades–perks of being a former pilot) they cancelled his flight Saturday, and he decided to stay until Monday to avoid dealing with crowded flights yesterday.

Mom arrives Wednesday at some point.  California next Monday.  Looking forward to swimming in the ocean…

Mont Saint Michel

This morning we woke at our hotel in Bayeux. Breakfast, shower, we loaded the car, checked out, and headed out on foot for the Tapisserie d’Bayeux. The tapestry was made following William the Conqueror’s invasion of England in 1066 and measures over 70 meters long. I have to admit, I was doubtful. I wasn’t terribly interested in or impressed by the tapestries at the Cluny, though more than appreciative of the art as well as the historical documentation. Really, I had no idea what to expect. But this tapestry was definitely impressive. Fascinating, really. First of all, let me point out that it’s almost 1000 years old. That’s kind of a long time (human time scale, here). Second, 70 meters. All in one continuous piece (there are some seams, but I imagine those are close to original. Also, it’s all pieced together in one 70 meter-long display). Lastly, and this may be due to the commentary we had on an audio handset, the detail depicted was remarkable. So many nuances that, were I simply walking through, I probably would have missed.

After finishing the tapestry, we walked to a patisserie just up the street from our hotel. We stopped at this particular patisserie yesterday after the Normandy museum, and had delightful pastries. Well, this morning we went all out. A fresh baguette (still warm… divine), two eclairs, two tartes, two of the small ham and cheese baguettes, a pain raisin, and a giant piece (yes, only a piece… the whole loaf was monstrous) of some really, really good bread with raisins and other little nuggets of goodness. Some fruit and water from the fruit market next door and we were ready to head west.

A stop in Avranches to see the Jardin des Plantes. Nice. Sleep town, lots of daylight left, we move on for Mont Saint Michel. We arrive at the Brit Hotel (a French chain of hotels) about 15km from Mont Saint Michel, check in, and head out. In correspondences with my aunt and after speaking with the matron of the hotel, we decide to not necessarily “do” Mont Saint Michel today, but arrange bikes for tomorrow. Anyways, we arrive and the tide is low. It seems like an opportune time to walk around the island. We do. Through silty mud and a few wading spots, we complete our circumnavigation and head up the hill, taking a back way that only a few people seem to know about. The rest of the island was swarmed with people, whom we soon joined, but it wasn’t hard to get away and find some quiet stairways to climb, hidden parapets from which we could soak in the view. An ice cream cone, some more traipsing, and we head down. After we get through the tour bus parking lot, I mention that it’s entirely too early for us to be done with the day, being a quarter to six, and I would hate to waste any time. We decide to do the tour of the church and turn around, arriving at the ticket desk just a few minutes before six. Purchase our tickets, walk in, and they lock the gate behind us.

We have the place to ourselves.

We start the tour, and one of the docents begins locking doors behind us as we make our way through. There’s a massive viewing platform, and we’re the only ones on it. The main cathedral is empty, save two others. Our docent ushers a group of about 10 out of the cloister, but allows us to linger a bit longer. The whole way through, she’s locking doors as we finish with a room. Sure, it was a bit rushed, but a private tour of Mont Saint Michel?

We exit, sit down for dinner at a Bar/Restaurant/Creperie which, unfortunately, was finished with crepes for the night. But we have our fish soup, open our half bottle of 2006 Chateauneuf du Pape, and revel in what we just experienced. A dessert of troix fromages (all local fromages d’Normandie), and a waning evening behind the island. See photo page…

Known but to God

Yesterday morning we got to the Battle of Normandy Museum right at opening and perused the exhibits for about an hour.  We then watched a 25 minute historical video of the attacks, the fighting, and the ultimate liberation of Bayeux.  It included some really great footage taken during the war.  Tanks playing in the parking lot.  Patisserie on the way home–eclair, some double decker eclair (reglisse… something), and a small ham baguette fresh.  Delicious.

Bikes rented, we headed through town and west towards the ocean.  20 or so kilometers later, we were standing on Omaha Beach, right at the dividing line between Easy Red and Fox Green landing zones.  A couple of bunkers were situated on the hills just above us.  We explored those, other fox holes and turret emplacements.  See photos.

I found one very small emplacement that I nearly had to crawl into.  The outer cement work on the roof of the emplacement was damaged, presumably from some explosion during the attacks.  All of the history, all of the memorials that I have ever come experienced, all of the accounts of that day are from the American perspective, from the Allied perspective, commemorating the loss of American lives.  By no means do I wish to undermine that or dishonor those who sacrificed themselves for the greater good, but as I stood there I couldn’t help but think about the young German soldier holed up in that tiny cement hole, put myself in his shoes.  I couldn’t help but think that all of the history one is confronted with paints the German army as evil.  Yeah, what they did was evil.  Their leaders were evil.  But I can’t imagine the entire German army, all of the 18-25 year old soldiers as being evil.  No, I think many of them were probably reluctant.  Probably unsure of how they ended up where they did, but willing to serve their country just as American soldiers were.  I think they were putting their country before themselves, and just the same as the American, British, and Canadian soldiers who landed on those beaches 6 June 1944, were terrified.

I can’t picture the soldier who fired a machine gun out of that emplacement as enjoying what he was doing.  No, I think he was scared.  I think he wanted to be home with his family.  The rest of the afternoon I had the song “Christmas in the Trenches” by John McCutcheon in my head.  Particularly the lines, “These sons and fathers far away from families of their own….With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war, but the question haunted every heart that beat that wondrous night, ‘Who’s family have I fixed within my sights.’”

We moved on, saw the memorial to the First Infantry Division (The Big Red One), to which 3 medals of honor were awarded for acts of bravery on that day, all posthumously, and 2 more were awarded to that unit for fighting on 10 June.  We walked through the hills and the brilliant green grasses up to our shoulders to the American Cemetary at Normandy.  Witnessed a ceremony by the Somme Battlefield Pipe Band.  Choked up at the sight of the hundreds and hundreds of white crosses.  Wept in front of crosses that read, “Here rests in honored glory a comrade in arms, known but to God.”

A ride back through the French countryside.  Green pastures, horses, quiet villages with patisseries, cafes, and beautiful people.  Probably close to 50km in all.  Hard to imagine the ravaging of war sweeping through the hills here, leveling towns and stealing lives all too soon.  Hard to imagine that anywhere.

Rouen et Bayeux

This morning we drove to the outskirts of the center of Rouen and walked in through streets that were even more perfectly French.  Seriously, this is Hollywood’s France, but actually in France.  It’s disgustingly perfectly French.  In a really, really great way.  Houses so old they’re bowing out, leaning, warping.  Cobbled streets barely wide enough to fit a car.  Avenues on which one can say “Hey, this street is a thousand years old.”  We had petit dejeuner at a nice little cafe–hot chocolate, orange juice, yogurt, and bagel with ham–then stopped in to one of the most brilliantly beautiful patisseries I’ve yet seen for an eclair, croissant, and some other little slice of Heaven.  We visited three very large cathedrals in the Rouen city center, one of which Monet painted multiple times.

Leaving Rouen for Bayeux–a small town in the middle of Normandy.  From here we will be able to access all of the beaches of Normandy, and on the perfectly appropriate weekend.  64 years ago today Allied forces landed at Normandy and stormed the Germans occupying France.  So, kind of some neat history.  We had no idea until we came to the hotel at which we thought we were staying (turns out we thought incorrectly) and the maitre d’hotel started talking about ceremonies and things.  Then it clicked for me.  Well, it’s crowded, but still beautiful.  Tomorrow we’ll go to the museum on the Battle of Normandy, maybe a beach or two (I haven’t seen the ocean outside of an airplane in more than six months), and do other things.

We walked around town a bit this afternoon, sat down for a very pleasant dinner at a restaurant (servi continuu–they serve food all day.  Very American).  Had a nice conversation with two Kiwis, a father and son there with the mother and the son’s wife.  Then we walked town a bit, had a short rest at the hotel, and left around 8 to go play frisbee in the Place de Gaulle.  Just up the street from the Cathedral, beautiful green grass and a perfect fountain in the middle of the park.  Yes, I played frisbee with my uncle.  Yes, he is turning 70 in 3 months.  This was no sissy game, either.  This was a game I could have played with one of my contemporaries.

Anyways, we played until it was about 9:30.  Then the light was just perfect to go see the cathedral up close.  No, the sun had not quite gone down.  I think this being the farthest north I have ever been, it’s a little startling to still have sunlight after 9PM.  To have sunset-type light near 10PM.  To still not want to go to bed around 11PM because it’s NOT ENTIRELY DARK.  Coming from winterized South Africa, without electricity, this is a big change.

So, remember D-Day.  Remember National Donut Day (thanks Kyle).

Giverny

Yesterday morning we picked up a rental car from the Louvre.  We checked out of our little hotel in Montreuil and headed northwest, driving through some of the longest tunnels probably in existence.  We turned off the freeway for Vernon/Evreaux to head towards Giverny.  Driving through little French villages along the Seine, perfectly green trees and grass and hills, quaint houses and buildings, cafes every 10 meters.  Perfectly, perfectly French.  Giverny was fairly crowded (as is expected), but we did have a nice time at lunch at the Hotel Baudy.

Monet’s gardens were spectacular.  Incredibly green.  Almost too much green to photograph.  It was really neat to see where his inspiration came from.  As one critic said, I think, he created his inspiration in that garden.  Just too much to look at.

We then headed for Rouen to our hotel.  It took some finding, but finally we arrived.  Little did we know we booked a night in a Best Western.  Hotel La Berteliere did not give any indication as to the operator of its establishment.  We will leave shortly for Bayeux, where we will spend two nights.  I’m hoping we’ll be able to meet up with Will from England (Sentebale volunteer in Lesotho) in the next couple of days.  More photos posted.

l’Orsay

I don’t know if I expressed it in my last post, but yesterday saw me declare Musee l’Orangerie as my favorite museum in Paris. That still holds, even after visiting Musee l’Orsay today. Sure, l’Orsay has tons and tons of great impressionist works. But the presentation, the ambiance at l’Orangerie. And the shear largeness of Monet’s Nympheas…

Regardless, l’Orsay was great. Monet, van Gogh, Renoir, Cezanne, Degas, Sisley… The neo-impressionists. Incredible stuff.

A few more photos on shutterfly.  Also, check out everything on the Musee de l’Orangerie webpage (it’s in French).  Particularly the 360 degree virtual tour of the Nympheas.

attempt to recap

One might say the last few days (I guess it’s been three now… it’s blurry) have been hectic. After I arrived Saturday morning, we headed out to walk some of the city. First stop Notre Dame, walk around Ile de la Cite and Ile St. Louis. Cafe au lait near Hotel de Ville. Place Igor Stravinsky at the Pompidou. Then we headed to Montmarte to see Sacre Coeur. Walking the small, cobblestoned streets, narrow with narrower sidewalks, buildings straight up from the pavement. La Butte Montmarte was mobbed in its entirety. Apparently a wine expo or festival or something was going on. Unfortunately we did not stop at any of the stands to sample. Some scenic viewing of the city, an espresso in the shadow of Sacre Coeur before touring the cathedral, and a walk through the art market. We stopped at a little Cafe/Restaurant/Galerie we saw on our way up for dinner. Les Temps des Cerises. Soupe l’Oignone to start, Pates fraiches maizon au chorizo (!!!), creme brulee, and dus verre de vin rouge. Absolutely delicious meal in a perfectly idyllic setting. The place seemed to be run by a couple, neither of whom spoke very good (if any) English. Two Australian women sat next to us–one knew Super Rica in SB. Funny. We left around 8, maybe 9 o’clock. I’m not sure, because it was still perfectly light out.

Yesterday we started at the Louvre. Some of my favorites in the Dutch school–Gerard Dou, Isaack van Ostade, Rembrandt (only a few). Pierre Henri de Valenciennes was another favorite, but I think he was 17th or 18th century France. Anyways, we saw a LOT of the Louvre as we roamed around looking for Winged Victory. Found her. Dejeuner a Cafe Richelieu, overlooking the Pyramide. Perfect setting, less than desirable food. We determined the Louvre is moving to some modern schools of thought. Jan Fabre’s strange (and really unpleasant) artwork scattered throughout Richelieu, and they microwaved my Sandwich Foccacia. My bread was chewy. Duly noted… After escaping the million and a half people in Le Carrousel du Louvre (seriously, a million and a half. free museum day), we came upon a street orchestra outside the Palais Royal. They were brilliant, but cut short due to a bit of rain. Stop for crepes across from Ste. Chapelle, get tickets for concert at Ste. Chapelle, catch the last few minutes of Vepres at Notre Dame, more crepes across from Notre Dame (crepes Nutella-banane. The French love Nutella. I love the French). Evening concert at Ste. Chapelle of Baroque recorder, harpsichord, and violin. Very good, but I could do without the harpsichord. And really some of the recorder. The violin was incredible. The stained glass better. A brisk walk to make sure we get to Notre Dame in time–no line, straight to the top to catch the tail end of the sunset. Absolutely stunning (see photos). Out of Notre Dame and into a crowd watching rollerbladers set up for a stunt show. Flips off a jump, high jump tricks, and other acrobatics. Flame twirlers in the Purvis de Notre Dame. Late night ice cream on Ile St. Louis. Metro adventures to Hotel Armstrong.

This morning we were lazy, leaving our place around noon. Metro to Jardin du Tuileries where we found a cafe in the middle of the park. Sandwich, bordeaux. Into the Musee de l’Orangerie. Now, this place was incredible. The top floor consists only of 6 Monets. That’s it. But they are massive. Two oval rooms with four paintings each… I don’t even want to estimate the size. Several meters long each. I have long preferred impressionism, and Monet’s gardens are probably some of my favorites. But the manner in which they were displayed… Clean white rooms, natural skylights for a perfect ambiance. While viewing Two Weeping Willows at the easternmost part of the museum, the sun came out from behind clouds. It was like sunrise in the middle of the day, brightening the room. To the basement for the collections of Jean Walter et Paul Guillaume. Cezanne and Derain’s landscapes, Gaugin, Picasso’s Grande Nature morte, and only a very few Renoir’s. Beautiful beautiful beautiful. Walk to Rodin, but closed, so metro to Cluny. Not my favorite, but loved the building.

1820h now and we’re crashing. I know I shouldn’t go to sleep but it sounds so, so lovely…  See my Shutterfly for Saturday/Sunday photos.  http://tghurst0.shutterfly.com/

Arrivee

I’ve arrived in Paris.  An hour to get through customs (and no stamp!!!!), a bit longer to get my backpack, and then at least an hour to find the bus stop.  But I found it, and it was about an hour ride from the airport to the hotel.  I stepped off the bus to my uncle taking a photo.   I’m a little sick, a lot tired, but glad to be here with a familiar face.  More updates later.