Catchy title, right? So, without further adieu, Doug lost his phone today on our bus trip to Auvers-sur-Oise to see the last place Vincent van Gogh lived the few months before he shot himself on July 29, 1890. On our two hour walk, Doug pulled his jacket out of the backpack he was carrying and the phone must have dropped out on the ground. We pinged it to no avail. So, Doug’s phone and Vincent van Gogh are both dead and buried in the same little town in France, just 20 miles north of Paris. (Apologies for the lame puns).

We actually visited two small towns in France today, La-Roche Guyon and Auvers-sur-Oise. We were confused because we walked around in La-Roche Guyon and saw the Chateau La-Roche in the morning, then started on our bus tour to Auvers at 1:45 PM, the same time our boat was supposed to leave port. No one explained the situation to us, but apparently we made the same trip by land and ended up where the boat had moored for the night just 10 miles up the Seine, if that makes any sense at all. Probably not.

Our tour guide today didn’t have a lot of material, because van Gogh (pronounced van Gog in French) only lived in Auvres for a couple of months before he committed suicide. So, the tour was basically the Auberge Ravoux (the inn where Van Gogh stayed), his table in the corner at the inn, his tiny room at the inn, the local church he painted and the town cemetery where he was buried. Van Gogh was quite a prolific painter–his average was one painting every four days. So he did paint several amazing pictures there. These are two of my favorites:

Our tour guide (I think his name was Emmanuel, but that doesn’t seem very French, so maybe not) told us all the lore surrounding Van Gogh’s death. The official story is that he went out in a field by a stand of trees where he was painting and shot himself in the stomach. He then walked a mile back to the Auberge Ravoux and went up to his room on the third floor. The innkeeper called a doctor, but it was too late. He died two days later. Some scholars have questioned that his death was more likely to have been an accidental shooting by locals, because he didn’t have gunpowder on his hand, it was an odd angle, etc. I kept wondering how he could have walked a mile with such a grave injury. All pretty confusing. He was 37 years old when he died. His brother, Theo, is buried next to him. Theo died just a year later from the effects of syphilis, according to Emmanuel (?). Pictures from today:

This was our final day in Paris, so of course we felt compelled to see yet one more iconic Parisian landmark, the Palace of Versailles. Versailles is about 12 miles west of Paris, so we took a bus tour. I was not ready to sign on for another insane cab ride, so the bus was a pretty tame option. Whenever you go in one of these tours, you get a lot of history in a couple of hours. It’s hard to absorb everything, so I’m usually left with general impressions, as in today: Louis XIII (had trouble with the nobles), Louis XIV (wore wigs and red high heels), Louis XV (was the Sun King) and Louis XVI (French Revolution, and was beheaded). Mary Antoinette, also beheaded.

I think you may learn more on tours guided by locals, like expressions, views of history and such, so there’s a definite value there. On the other hand, I find myself wanting to spend more time on some things and less time on other things, and a tour moves at a certain pace. I can look up the history later. Today our guide, Sylvie, used many expressions, but one she used multiple times was, “voila.” I looked it up and in French voila=there, as in “so there you have it.” I am pretty much going to use voila going forward at every opportunity.

So, tonight at dinner we were seated by two other couples, Patrick and Collette and Donald and Rachel. Made me really miss Laurel and her husband, who was either named Kyle or Kevin. Patrick and Colette were super gripey. Donald seemed okayish, but Rachel was an over-talkative racist. I will not go into detail about why I thought this about her, but they moved to Florida from New York and were bashing everything about Florida 24-7. I tried to say that all states have either good or bad things, so we just have to be happy with the mix of those things. Can you even believe I said something like that? So, it obviously went over like a lead balloon. In time, I whispered to Doug that I was pretending to go to the bathroom, but would not return. He followed soon after.

One more thing from today. The small Statue of Liberty in Paris.

We boarded our river cruise today at noon after yet another harrowing cab ride through the streets of Paris. Cab drivers in Paris are hit or miss, and the guy we had this morning was a total miss. What we have learned for sure is that the taxi drivers here do not have any use for a GPS. You have to show them your iPhone GPS and they study it for a few seconds and then act like they know exactly where they are going. They never enter it into their own phone. So you are lulled into a false sense of security until you figure out they don’t know where the heck they are headed. It’s a completely nutty system. The driver this morning kept mumbling a bunch of French under his breath. I thought he might be praying. I know I was.

We have only been on one other river cruise, and Doug and I had varying opinions. Doug loved it and although I liked it, I thought it was just a little bit too up close and personal. Today after we unpacked we went for lunch in the dining room. All of the tables seat six or more people, and it wasn’t long before Laurel and Kevin from Tampa joined us. Laurel puts powdered gatorade in her iced tea because she has leg cramps and that’s the only thing that really helps. They were completely nice people, but this one experience kind of proves my point. Right now I am keeping an open mind.

Just as a side note, there are apparently a slew of pickpockets around the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower and other famous sites in Paris. We were warned about them numerous times by various cab drivers and people at the hotel. The setup is that a defenseless looking young woman carrying a baby approaches you and asks for money to feed her hungry child (apparently they either rent or borrow babies for this purpose). After they get your attention with the cute/hungry baby scam, they have a partner who picks your pocket. What’s next?

Today we walked along the banks of the Seine and then revisited the Louvre. I read somewhere that if you really want to see everything in the Louvre it would take about three months. After navigating it today with the museum map, I would tack on another month just to learn how to avoid getting lost twenty times a day. There are only a few elevators and a million sets of counterintuitive stairs, many of which you have to go up and down numerous times to reach another wing. I am geographically challenged, but Doug is usually spot on. Even he couldn’t figure out the map.

We were lost in the Louvre so long that we missed lunch, so we had a chocolate eclair and a raspberry tart here:

Then tonight we visited the Eiffel Tower for dinner. The Eiffel Tower was spectacular. The meal was okay. What I couldn’t figure out was why the piped in music was the same version of “Theme From A Summer Place” for the three hours we were there. Most are too young to remember, but “A Summer Place” was a B grade movie filmed in 1959. Listen to it only if you are ready for an annoying ear worm.

On a last note, I am unable to figure out how to not make my first picture posted post twice. Tonight it of is of me by the Venus de Milo looking harried.

Sunday, November 5, 2023

Well, it’s once more time to relearn the art of blogging. I have had numerous requests (actually only two requests, but who’s counting?) to write a blog in the same vein as I did when we traveled to Norway in 2018 and New Zealand and Australia in 2020. There’s a reason blog rhymes with slog, because some days one just doesn’t feel like being witty and informative. So at the very least I will strive to be informative with full disclosure that the wit may not always be sparkling. I hope you will get some enjoyment from my latest effort!

Yesterday afternoon at 6 PM we flew out of Atlanta on a direct flight to Paris. Actually we booked the flight on Delta, but the partner for our flight was Air France. Although Delta doesn’t always offer stellar service, we know what kind of comfortable mediocrity to expect. Air France is, well, lacking. Our flight attendant was a bored angsty young French man with a pencil thin mustache who impatiently threw stuff at us and then ran away. Of course, it didn’t really matter because it was late and we were tired, but I did wonder why he seemed so desperately unhappy.

Full disclosure for those of you who haven’t read my blog before: I am an unapologetic eavesdropper. Last night after we boarded the plane, I heard this exchange from the people in the aisle in front of me. They didn’t know each other and were chatting back and forth across the aisle. After short introductions, Passenger 1 (flirty female) asked Passenger 2 (nerdy male) where he was headed. He retorted, “France.” Weird, since we had all just boarded a plane headed to France. Their conversation faltered at that point.

So, we arrived at Charles de Gaulle at the crack of dawn after sleeping about an hour on the plane, came by cab to our hotel, dropped our luggage but couldn’t check in because it was far too early. Then we walked over to the Louvre, which is quite near our hotel. The Louvre is 652,300 square feet, houses over 35,000 objects from prehistory to the 19th century and is the largest museum on earth. To say it is overwhelming is a vast understatement. That vastness, along with our foggy, sleep deprived brains, made our visit there challenging. We will head back there tomorrow and try to better absorb what we are seeing.

Dear All,

Yesterday morning (Wednesday) when we woke up, we were still in Melbourne, much to our surprise. The plan was that our ship would set sail from Melbourne at 10:30 PM Tuesday night and be at sea all day yesterday, arriving in Sydney by 11 AM today. The ship’s captain came on the loud speaker and said there were mechanical issues, as well as inclement weather. Long story short, we left fourteen hours later than we were due and will not get into Sydney until midnight tonight. Our flight is tomorrow morning, so rather disappointingly, we won’t have any time in Sydney. On the bright side, we will make our flight home.

By the way, if it’s seems like I’m on the wrong day above, that’s because we lost Tuesday, February 4th when we crossed the International Date Line. So we lost the 4th, but we will have two February 21sts, both of them this Friday. I looked up the International Date Line and this is what it says: The International Date Line (IDL) is an imaginary line of demarcation on the surface of the earth that runs from the North Pole to the South Pole. It’s imaginary? I thought it was a real red dashed line, didn’t you?

Today they have this huge fancy brunch set out all around the pool deck. Not sure what the occasion is, but it seems like something they cooked up (no pun intended) to make up for not getting us to Sydney in a timely manner.

Tomorrow we will board a plane at 11:20 AM in Sydney and fly a little under fourteen hours to Los Angeles. From there we will fly the fours hours or so to Atlanta.

As the sun sets on our “Great Down Under Adventure,” I can’t help but think that there is so much more we could see here had we the time, patience and money. But, Australia is huge, with large stretches between cities and limited highways. For instance, if you fly into Sydney it’s another 900 miles on to Melbourne. If you want to see Uluru (Ayres Rock) near Alice Springs, it’s another 1400 miles from Melbourne. Australia is not a road trip friendly country.

I am sitting in the front of the ship right now doing my favorite things, reading, writing and eavesdropping. I just heard a guy say, “I could have done with more Australia and less New Zealand.” But, as I just explained to you, that is not really possible. One can’t see Australia this easily and most people don’t want to make the effort to drive or fly all over the country. Also, I loved New Zealand and the people there. If fact, I have enjoyed the entire journey, and I hope you have been able to enjoy a little bit of it with me.

Dear Everyone.

Tonight I wasn’t sure if I could even manage to blog because I was so tired when we arrived back on the ship after a ten hour bus tour. We didn’t spend the entire time on the bus, of course, but it was beginning to feel that way towards the end.

After we left at 8:30 AM this morning, we first stopped at the Healesville Nature Sanctuary and finally got to see at least two Australian marsupials: kangaroos and koalas. The wombats seemed to be on holiday and the Tasmanian Devils were too far of a walk for the time we were allotted. Actually, we might have had enough time had we been able to stop gaping at the kangaroos and koalas.

After the Sanctuary, we went to the Rochford Winery for another wine and cheese tasting, plus lunch. This winery was larger than the one in Tasmania; they had a huge green and a concert stage. Elton John played there last and Adele will be playing there March 14th. No pictures here because it was raining off and on.

By the time we reached our final stop, it was pouring rain. Because the car park was being reconstructed, we walked a ways down to a tiny train station to board the “Puffing Billy,” a vintage small gauge train. I was dismayed to find that we were boarding an open air train with wet benches and rain blowing in on us. As usual, I was ill equipped for a monsoon. Our tour guide said it would be an “adventure.” I’m sure everyone knows how I feel about “adventures,” but in for a penny, in for a pound. We decided to make the best of it by taking a selfie of our abject misery.

Note to readers: Trying to look miserable makes me laugh.

Note to self: It never hurts to have a rain poncho at the ready.

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Usually on these tours we have both a bus driver and a tour guide who has a microphone and rattles on about local history and so forth. Today, I thought the bus driver and the tour guide were going to come to fisticuffs over which route to take out of the city, which route to take to the Sanctuary and which route to take back into the city. I mean they discussed it ad nauseam. When we were on our way to the Sanctuary, the tour guide forced the bus driver into going his way. So, we made a wrong turn and had to make a u turn on a narrow road in a tour bus, with another tour bus following us, whose driver also had to make the same u turn! Now that was a tense moment. Our driver was less than pleased. If those two were any indication, people here must talk about traffic, distances and which way to turn all of the flipping time.

Ann’s Eavesdroppers’ Corner:

After visiting the Sanctuary, I just happened to overhear a lady saying, “I thought the animals would be more in the wild.” “As in, not in a sanctuary?,” I asked. No, I didn’t, really. Just wanted to see if anyone is still reading.

Dear All,

We are once more at sea, which makes for pretty difficult going on the blogging front. But I must persevere.

You all know that Doug wears golf caps, but what you may not know is that golf caps are a major conversation starter with other guys. At least once a day, some random guy comes up to him and says, “Titleist, hey? Do you play?” This invariably leads to a conversation of where they play, how much they play and when they last played. On this trip, Doug’s golf caps have been responsible for introducing us to people from Pawleys Island, Mt. Pleasant, Charleston and Greenville, South Carolina.

I have tried to get a fix on the architecture in New Zealand and Australia, but it seems there is no one specific style. Aside from some Victorian houses of the early settlers (like the sea captain’s house we saw yesterday) and the Art Deco of the later settlers, most of the houses are quite contemporary looking—think modern art gallery or drive through bank—with great stretches of large pane-less windows that don’t seem to have drapery or shades of any sort. It almost seems like a Mid Century Modern style, but both older and newer houses are built in this manner. Sometimes I get the feeling it’s still about 1958 here. See examples:

New Zealand and Australia have a rather large lumber industry. Unlike ports of call on say a Caribbean cruise, all of the ports we have visited are working ports, usually with large stacks of containers and logs all about. Our tour guides usually say the logs are being shipped to China and then go on to assure us that since trees grow so quickly to maturity here (20-25 years), there are no worries about stripping the land of trees. But somehow I am always leery when everyone keeps assuring me that something is so.

Tonight they are having a big to do with a BBQ and then “Dancing Under the Stars” with a live band on the main pool deck. The pool can either be an indoor pool or an outdoor pool, depending on the weather, due to a giant skylight roof that slides back and forth on tracks. Every event involves moving scads of chairs and tables, setting up the band and sound system, setting up food attractively in various places, etc. And then they have to move everything back! It seems a master feat to have a party for 900 people every couple of days, but they do it.

Dear All,

Today we went on a bus tour in Tasmania, which is actually an island state of Australia. Aborigines were the indigenous peoples, but the arrival of Europeans almost wiped out all 7,000 of them on the island due to warfare and the introduction of diseases they were not immune to. The few Aborigines who were left were rounded up and sent to Flinders Island.

Tasmania was settled permanently by the British in 1803 as a penal colony and originally called Van Diemen’s Land. Approximately 75,000 convicts were shipped there before transportation ended in 1853. Our tour guide, Daphne (not really her name, but it’s fitting), assured us that these convicts were not hardened criminals and they were not slaves. Of course, these same people would be her ancestors, so she seemed a little “Me thinks the lady doth protest too much” to me. The convicts built all of the roads, bridges, homes, churches and public buildings. They were indentured for seven years and then were free, but had no way to actually get back to England. So, anyway, Daphne. Beautiful buildings, though.

Our first stop today was at a small, family owned winery called Puddleduck. There are about 300 wineries in Tasmania and they produce mostly Pinot Noir, Riesling, Shiraz, Chardonnay and Pinot Gris. We were given tastes of about five of the wines they make (teeny-tiny tastes) and served crackers with locally made cheese. They also had a super weird gift shop where they sold everything ducky—rubber ducks, stuffed ducks, wood ducks, metal ducks. You get the picture. Below is a pic of grapevines (they cover the vines with netting to keep birds from eating the grapes):

After that we stopped in a sweet little town named Richmond, which was packed with revelers. Daphne either didn’t know or didn’t say what was going on, but it seemed to be some sort of a Scottish festival. The guys in the kilts were my first clue.

Our last stop was at Runnymede House in Hobart where our ship was docked. You are probably asking yourself, what is Runnymede House? Well, it’s a “beautifully restored whaling captain’s house built in 1840” according to the literature. It was quite beautifully restored, but I now know more than I ever wanted to know about Captain Dayley and his extended family, James, Anna Marie, Emma, Susan, John and all of the other Dayley’s who inhabited the house at one time or the other. Enough said.

Hi to All,

My blogging morale sort of fell apart yesterday. We were all day at sea with no land in sight, no pictures and no comments at all on my last absorbing blog, which I honestly thought was comment worthy. But, I won’t be discouraged—onward and upward!

With so much time on my hands, I have been reading Bill Bryson’s “In a Sunburned Country,” his travel commentary about Australia. I am about 2/3 of the way through the book and he has already made three trips to Australia because it’s such a time consuming thing to see all of it. The United States and Australia are about the same size, but Australia only has about 22 million people while the US has more like 316 million. So, needless to say, there is a lot of empty space with no decent roads in Australia, which makes it quite hard to travel in comprehensively. Road trips take on a whole new meaning!

This ship, the Viking Orion, is relatively small as far as cruises go—about 950 people on board. Since this is a smaller ship, they have a lot of special lunch and dinner events. Yesterday it was grilled Cuban sandwiches and today it was Italian with freshly made pasta. One day it was Caesar Salad with grilled shrimp, salmon or halibut. One can get something to eat on this ship anytime from 6:30 AM to 12 PM, which is handy if one happens to be a glutton.

Tomorrow we will be in Tasmania. The only thing I really know about Tasmania is that they have an animal there called the Tasmanian Devil, which is now an endangered species. And probably the only reason I knew that is because of the Looney Tunes character, Taz.

I have only one eavesdropping event to report. The other night we were waiting for our reservation at a specialty restaurant on the ship (meaning fancy stuff with a mile long description). As we were standing there, this tiny little man, who I probably had at least 9 inches and 40 pounds on, came racing out of the restaurant, looked right at us and spit out disgustedly, “They only have French wines in this restaurant! Unbelievable! I’m leaving.” Then he raced off. So, is there a group of wine aficionados who detest French wines? I think I must be missing something. Oh, and on a side note, it doesn’t cost extra to eat at this restaurant and wines are complimentary, so no one was forcing him to drink French wine.