Sunday, February 27, 2022

Tuesday 5 March

 Tuesday 5 March

Sunday night I was trying to think of my possible options as to what to do for free in Paris and decided that Monday I try the Père Lachaise Cemetery. This is very famous because this is the burial site of the likes of Gertrude Stein, Oscar Wilde, Chopin, Nagy, and most importantly Jim Morrison. I got there Monday at about 11:30 and was shocked at the amount of people buried there and was very surprised to find out who else is buried there -Delacroix, Gericault, Seurat, Pissarro, David, Ernst- all the painters. But I was happy to see that Amendo Modigliani, one of my favorite painters is also buried there. It took an eternity to find his grave since there are hundreds of thousands and even divided into areas it's difficult. I stayed until about 5:00 PM just wandering around (and getting lost!) so wasting time in Paris hasn't been all bad.

I checked into the hostel at about 5:30 and my two roommates showed up a few minutes later. They turned out to be two guys from Wisconsin who just got to Paris after having ridden from Amsterdam. So of course I told them about my bike trip. Over dinner, they were telling me about their friend who lives in Holland who had planned to make the trip with them. Bikes are so expensive in Holland that they had a friend buy a bike for him and send it from the states-plus all that gear. As it turns out Sylvan (their friend) is not taking the trip with them. I don't know who came up with the idea but the suggestion was mentioned that if he was willing to sell all his gear to me I could go with them. At first, I wasn't sure but I thought about it for a long time and decided that seeing Europe from 15 mph and from campsites is far far better than from 60 kilometers per hour on a train and from youth hostels. So I got really excited at the prospect. As it turns out, they couldn't get in touch with Silvano and of course, I was a little disappointed. But today we decided to go bike shopping around Paris. Bicycles are really not that expensive here. I can get a good mountain bike for about 2800 francs ($600.) I thought about it for a while and realized that all during my stay in Paris I thought about my bike trip and how nice it was to cover all those miles by my own sweat, and how nice it was to sleep under the stars. I've been trying to decide where I want to make my next bike trip once I get back home. But now I realized that there is really no reason to wait. I can do it now! Especially with spring coming on it will be so lovely. And if I were to do it all by train I would be simply going from city to city to city and I would be desirous of green things. This way (the bike way) we can see a city, ride in the country and then see another city ideal. So, assuming that the credit card is waiting for me at Sylvain's (it's Tuesday so it should be) I can go tomorrow and buy my bike, my rack, panniers (bags), and biking clothes -oh, and a tent and a sleeping bag. It looks like my expenses should be about $1200 in all. But considering the money I'll save on the road -no train expense, no accommodations - that will take a little of the sting out of it all. Plus, just getting to see Europe on a cycle will make up for it all. I'm so excited! This is the plan we've kind of put together so far: we'll ride/hitchhike down to Spain (it's a long way!), Do a little riding in the Pyrenees, go to Barcelona (!), back up along the Mediterranean coast of France and on up into the French Alps,- stay in Chamonix Mont-Blanc (where I've been given the name of a guy who might take me hang-gliding). we will then continue up the Alps through Switzerland. In Germany, we want to ride along the Rhine (I'd like to go as far as Worms). after that Keith has to go to school (in Germany) and I think it will be time for me to go see Andreas! then who knows what will happen then . . .

So hopefully by Thursday, Friday at the latest, will be on the way to Spain. I can't tell you how excited I am to have made this decision to cycle. I kind of balked at the idea of spending all the money at first but then I reasoned that one of the reasons I bought a one-way ticket out here was because I didn't know what was going to happen once I got here. So if I run out of money a little sooner than I'd estimated, that just means I'll have to find work a little sooner than I'd estimated. Se la vie!

Thursday 7 March

Wednesday was an interesting day. I woke at 6:00 AM to try and catch Sylvain at home before work to try to see if your letter had gotten here. I was going to call but all the payphones require Telecartes (like credit cards) which I don't have so I decided to ride the subway and take my chances on getting over there on time. As I got to his apartment he was on his way out the door but he said I did have a letter. However, it was from Andreas. That was probably the only time in my life I'll be unhappy to hear from him. I asked Sylvain if I could wait for the mail in his apartment since I was tired, desperate, and had all my belongings with me and didn't know what I do. Well, he didn't even answer me he just told me he was late and had to go to work and shut the door behind him. So I stood outside his door and cried. Then I went downstairs to wait for the mailman, who came just a few minutes later. He gave the mail to the concierge (landlady) and I communicated to her with great difficulty what I needed. Finally, she understood and she looked through the mail and -guess what! -there was the blessed envoy! So, armed with my plastic, I met Eric and Keith (as we had pre-arranged) at the Arc de Triumph. we went to this obscure little bike store that someone had given us a tip about called “Maison de Velo” I went in and was instantly discouraged because everything was so high priced. I had my eye on this particular Fisher bike (very nice) but I know it was too much -4600 francs. I approached the guy at the desk and said “parlez vous Englais?” as I always do, and he said in perfect English, “very well, in fact.” It turns out that this guy Scott, is from Santa Barbara and likes to give touring Americans good deals and he said he'd sell the bike to me for 3500 francs. Always wary of salesman I compared with the guys who know a lot about bikes and they said it was a great deal. So I told Scott it was a deal. I also managed to pick up a pair of used panniers (bags), for only 150 francs ($35). I had to also be equipped with a handlebar bag, rear rack, and two cages for water bottles. As we were waiting for this to get done, Scott invited us out to launch and ended up paying for all of us. I ended up paying 4200 francs for everything ($850) but was informed that about 650 francs would be returned to me if I leave France within six months, because of taxes. So I walked out of the store with a fully equipped very high-quality touring bike for 3600 francs -about $725. I did well. Then we went and bought a tent for 350 francs and a sleeping bag for 450 francs. So the three of us rode off to find a place to eat and a place to camp. We hit it off towards the Eiffel Tower and ended up setting up for dinner under it. Keith was lighting his stove and the gas began leaking. Of course, it caught on fire, and soon we had a nice big but contained fire ablaze under the Eiffel Tower. We backed up, expecting an explosion, and about six or seven rent a cops came sprinting over. They saw the seriousness of the situation (or lack thereof) and just began throwing rocks on it and within seconds it was out. They never even reprimanded us. They just walked away.

Oh! I forgot to mention the ride from the camping store to the Eiffel Tower! The streets in Paris are so narrow and at night everyone goes out so the streets and sidewalks are just packed. So imagine me, just trying to regain my cycling legs, dodging people and cars in the dark with these absolute daredevils. We were just shooting out in front of anyone and we generally didn't heed the lights. And we made it safely! We ended up staying in a hostel because it was raining. I'd love to tell you about today but I'm exhausted and I must go to sleep.

Friday 8 March

OK, yesterday was the day of extremes. I woke up and got kicked out of the hostel as they lock up at 11. I was in a bad mood because I desperately wanted to leave Paris and I had a few chores to run that were not of the fun sort. again walking towards the metro station and discovered something neat. Back at UTC I always found it therapeutic to just go to the library and look at architecture magazines and see the interesting buildings that were going up. I read an article about a year ago about this building which has an entire side made up of camera aperture type openings. When the sun is bright, the apertures almost closes and when it's not so sunny it opens to allow more light. The building is a skyscraper so you can imagine the grandeur of it. Anyway, I was going to the metro and I stopped dead in my tracks because the building is right there in front of me. I didn't even know it was in Paris. I had even pretty much forgotten about it because when I was reading the article I probably thought I wouldn't possibly be in Paris in just one year. I don't know if you can understand how that made me feel. I mean, with the rest of the monuments and such that I've gone to see, I made a conscious effort to do so. And I've always known that someday I would see them but this building I just stumbled upon. If I had been walking on the other side of the street I wouldn't have even seen it. I was very lucky.

Anyway, I got my errands run and I went back to the hostel at 5:00 to meet the guys. It turns out that Eric is not going with us because he's out of money and his parents won't wire him more. I don't think I will miss him terribly, though. His entire trip has been financed by his parents and he's the kind of guy who, for example, won't help me and Keith figure out which way to go according to the map but gets impatient when it takes us too long to figure it out. So we go pack all our stuff on the bikes and I sent my backpack full of things I don't need with Eric. He's going to Utrecht before he flies out. Keith and I end up leaving the hostel at about 6:45, as it is raining a little and getting dark. But we didn't care because we both were absolutely aching to leave the city. So we rode for almost 2 hours and made it to Orly (southeast of Paris) and camped along the Seine. It felt so good to be back on a bicycle and sleeping in a sleeping bag and a tent. It's been too long.

We slept until 10 this morning awakened by construction noises, a church bell, and jets flying overhead (Orly is the airport I flew into). we took off and rode in all I guess about 40 miles. It was a rough 40 miles but I'm not in the shape I was for my other trip. We made it to Fontainebleau (which should be visible on a map), the home of a castle comparable to Versailles. I liked it much better than Versailles, though. He had a more genuine quality and I think we saw a total of 12 visitors. It was practically deserted, whereas Versailles is absolutely mobbed by tourists. It was beautiful.

We rode about 2 kilometers out of Fontainebleau and found a place to camp, as the area around the city is all forests. Right now Keith is trying to make a fire as I write this and I have been watching the subtle but beautiful sunset. Until tomorrow-

Sunday morning, 10 March

Well, we are in Amilly and I found an interesting place to stay last night. We were keeping our eyes open for a place to camp, as it was about that time when we passed a little villa with an ”a vendre” (for sale) sign out front. It was boarded up so we decided to investigate. It looked thoroughly not lived in and there was a garage outback with the door about three feet open. So we just camped in the garage for the night. I was able to get a good, restful night's sleep for once since it was warmer in the garage than outside.

The going is awful slow, though. It takes us a while to get going in the morning and the days still aren't very long so we have to start looking for a place to stay at about six. Plus, I am really appreciating all the training I did before my last trip since I can tell I didn't train for this one. I've never blacked out before but yesterday I think I got closer than I've ever been. You know how I tend to push myself and Keith is planning on beginning training for bicycle races when he gets to school in Germany. So he's in excellent cycling shape and all this difficult stuff is just a walk in the park for him. Alright more tonight. Were trying to find a real abode to sleep in tonight because we both desperately need showers and to do our laundry.

Monday 11 March

It's almost noon Monday and Keith and I are wondering what to do today. We checked into the hotel last night at about 6:30. The owners speak no English whatsoever. We got here and eight and both took very long showers (it was my first shower since Tuesday). We washed our disgusting clothes in the sink and hung them up to dry. When we woke today at 10 they were still soaking wet. So I gradually volunteered to go downstairs and attempt to communicate to the owners our need for a laundromat. It's so difficult when neither of us knows a lick of the other's language. So I brought my dictionary and a piece of wet clothing downstairs with me. Bade the owner and his wife “bonjour” as I have discovered that a friendly greeting and a smile can get me miles. I pointed to “blanchisserie” and held out my wet shirt and they told me “ferme” this word I know because so many things are ferme so often. Everything is closed on Sundays and Mondays and every day from about 12 to 2. So I asked ”jusqua?” (until?) and it took her about two minutes to find ”demain” the word for tomorrow. So I think we're just going to pack up our wet clothes and hitchhike for today since it's cold out and neither of us has enough warm dry clothing. My legs could use the rest, too. It's funny, though, that I wish we could ride today. It's cold and overcast outside but I don't care. I just want to get on my bike and go. I want to put miles between myself and this place but I don't want to do it in a car. I want to do it myself. Maybe it will be good, though. If we get a ride far enough South it will be warmer and it will maybe it be easier for us to camp at night and to do stuff like wash our clothes.

By the way, the city we spent the night in is called Cosne. We rode from Amilly to St, Amand en Puisaye, where we were going to stay. It had been raining for a while as we were ready to find a nice warm dry place. After asking a few people we realized two things: 1) there was no youth hostel, foyer (dormitory type rooms), or even hotel in Saint Amand, and 2) no one was going to offer to let us stay with them. So we decided to hitch to the next town or two wherever we ended up. We walked our bikes for almost a mile and a half, thumbing every truck that came by and about the 4th stopped and it was a Toyota 4x4 a very American thing since every car you see (practically) is a Peugeot, a Citroen, or a Renault. The guy spoke pretty good English and drove us the 20 kilometers to Cosne. We had a difficult time finding this place but with help managed to. By then it was getting dark and we were quite wet and cold and tired and hungry. It's kind of funny that I find myself in situations like this it's cold outside, we have few dry clothes, I don't even have any dry socks, and we have to check out of the hotel very soon- but I'd much rather get to Barcelona this way than simply hopping a train. This is more of an accomplishment. It's not enough for me that I don't know the language and am thousands of miles away from home. I've got to make it even more difficult. But what did you expect from me anyway?

We are now standing about 20 meters away from the hotel. We managed to get all of our wet belongings packed away and onto our bikes. We were ready to push off when it began to rain again. So we sought shelter. We are now heading out to N7 National 7) to try to hitch a ride South. Wish us luck.

We set off riding on the N7 a few minutes into the ride we see a sign that says Nevers, 59 kilometers. So I figured we'd be doing well to make it to Nevers. By the way, we decided not to hitch since the rain let up. Having gotten such a late start on our day about 1:00 o'clock we road 30 miles straight, which is a long ride without rest. Usually, 15 or 20 miles is the maximum I like to go without stopping for food or drink. We stopped here and had a little snack avocados and bread and finished the ride to Nevers. It turned out to be a really nice day. It was intermittently sunny/rainy and relatively warm- 14 degrees Celsius at the warmest. In Nevers, we stopped at the grocery store and got directions to the campground. We went there but neither of us wanted to camp there because it was too easy so we rode on out of the town and began getting desperate for a place to pitch their tent and to make a fire. Every field was fenced in and it was getting dark and we were both tres fatigue (very tired) and very hungry. Finally, I spotted a little road off to the right and we decided to try our luck. We went down about a kilometer finding nothing when we happened upon a large Chateau with a swimming pool and tennis courts and all the shutters closed. I think it's owned by the government and is used only in the summertime. It covers several acres and so we figured even if there was a groundskeeper if we stayed in a remote area of the grounds he wouldn't notice us. It's so beautiful here! So while Keith was working on the fire and I pitched the tent under this very large pine tree, then together we made this absolutely wonderful meal. Keith enjoys cooking and prefers healthy food so when it comes to meals we have a great time. We cooked rice and added sauteed onion, mushroom, and lentils. For spices, I use dried soup mixes because that's all they are anyway. It was so good! We've been enjoying great meals since we started traveling together. The first night we had grilled cheese with avocados on some really good dark bread. Oh! And we used butter. I've discovered butter now and could never imagine myself going back to margarine. The next night we had stir fry veggies with rice. The next day was the last night when we were in the hotel so we weren't able to cook anything. It seems we can live more luxuriously when we're camping out than when we're inside somewhere. I guess I haven't really told you anything about Keith yet, have I? He's 23 and one of those lifelong students, majoring in philosophy. He's working on his sixth university right now, including Warren Wilson in North Carolina. A lot of his administrative-type people have questioned his mental stability since he has done some strange things. He did a striptease act one time in the university cafeteria on a night when the trustees just happened to be dining there. At another time and another school, he put all his furniture on top of his three Storey dormitory building and watched the sunrise. He's done some extensive cycling, a bit in Canada and Alaska. He's a lot stronger than I when it comes to cycling but we get along great otherwise. I consider myself lucky because I didn't really know this guy at all when I decided to take this long bike trip with him. He could have turned out to be a real jerk or a psycho case or something. But we're really compatible and he makes a great traveling partner. Right now the two of us are sitting by a roaring fire writing in our respective journals, satisfied from our great meal.





The traveling has been very slow and it looks like it will be a long time before we make it to Barcelona. But I don't care anymore. Even with all the rain, and the cold nights, it just feels so good to cycle all day and look forward to that evening meal, and waking up to the fresh air and trees and grass in the morning. Looking at the map, it looks like in a few days will be hitting some of the westernmost areas of the Alps. And then towards Barcelona, of course, are the Pyrenees. So I've got some tough climbing ahead of me. I'd better get into shape really quick! Most of our ride today took us past vineyards, which makes sense because we're traveling along the Loire river. The Loire River Valley is famous for its wines. It was a neat feeling to know that I was in the real winemaking country. This was no Napa Valley or Monterey, this was it.

Found a post office.

Au revoir till next time!

Julie





















Monday 24 Feb

 Monday 24 Feb

Right now, I am sitting in the Indian embassy trying to do Sylvain a favor which has turned into a major effort. Sylvain was invited to a dinner at which Indian food will be the main fair. It is being hosted by his cousin Basile, with whom Sylvain went to India recently for a vacation. Sylvain wants to respond to the invitation in Indian even though Basile doesn't speak or know Indian. He asked me to come to the embassy since it doesn't open until he is at work. Of course, I immediately agreed to do him this favor since I have stayed there for five nights now. But if I had stopped to think about what was involved in communicating what I needed I'm not sure I would have been so eager! I am an American in France trying to ask a favor of someone who has difficulty speaking anything but Hindi. In addition, it was quite a strange request almost like something I would ask someone to do. Anyway, the man here at the desk has found a woman who could understand me and put me on the phone with her, and she is on her way to translate Sylvain's acceptance letter into Hindi.

Bonjour again! 

It is still Sunday the 24th, as in my last letter, but I decided to go ahead and send off those 10 pages as I thought it might be rather expensive to mail a whole book home. The enclosed sheet with the scrawled message is what Sylvain thought I should write to you. It says: 

Monday 18th (but written on the 23rd)    

super I am in Paris 

French is hard but nice 

they eat so much bread and meat 

all fromage (CHEESE) is good at any age

cheese is bad

for the knees

wine is good

for your line paper is cheap but I use never 

(he's criticized me for waiting so long before writing)

dog is not fed tonight but tomorrow after the lunch it will become his birthday

I haven't a clue about that last part







Tuesday 25 Feb

Do you know that you can mail a letter in Paris and it can be at its destination (somewhere else in Paris) later that day? Anyway, I am now in Juziers which is about 35 kilometers West of Paris. I took the train out here from Paris last night and got here at about 7:40. I was fortunate that I made it here so early as this was the first train trip I've taken in France. In fact, it's the first train trip I've ever taken, except for the train at Opryland, but I hesitate to call that a train. I didn't know for sure if there was a train bound for Juziers from gare (station) St lazar or not but since it seemed to be the main train station in Paris I assumed there would be. So I had to ask several people for help before I could find someone who spoke English. It never ceases to amaze me that there are so few English-speaking people in a city the size of Paris. I eventually found out that the train I needed to take left in about 8 minutes. The man helping me said it would be faster if I had change to just buy my ticket from the automated booth rather than wait in line to get it. However, I had no change. He told me to give him some money and he would go get change for me as the train station was very crowded and if I just waited there at the booth he would run quickly and go get it. So I gave him my last 100 frank bill ($20) and watched him disappear. I guess it was a kind of trusting move on my part but I never really doubted that he'd return with my money since I could tell he was a trustworthy type of guy. So I got on the train and realized I didn't know how many stops it was before Juziers, but I knew it was about an hour-long trip. So I just kept an eye on the names of the stations from my seat in the train and after about 50 minutes headed towards the exit. And guess what? Right there was a map of the route of my train and when I saw it I got this sinking feeling because it branched off in lots of places signifying the need to get off and transfer to another train. However, the very next stop was Juziers. I found out later that there had been a derailment earlier in the day on the same track that my train was the first one whose passengers did not have to stop at the station before Juziers and take a bus the rest of the way. That would probably have been quite confusing for me so I was fortunate that I did not have to. So I called Jean Claude from the train station and he turns out to be very handsome and a marathon runner. He speaks only broken English and his wife speaks none. They live in a 150-year-old house with their three children. I don't know what he does (my book on European customs and manners says not to ask that of a French person whom you have just met!) And Sabrine is not working because their youngest child is only about 15 months old. Their house is one of the messiest I've ever seen it's right up there with the Hutchinson's! I thought it was humorous that he made no excuses or apologies. He only said that the children are on a two-week vacation from school and that this is the second week. However, this mess is far more than a week and a half old! We sat down to have dinner and had an aperitif which was a homemade orange-flavored wine which was quite good. The dinner consisted of chicken, potatoes, couscous (a very popular food here) and when they found out I was a vegetarian, they gave me some leeks which I had never had which was quite good. We had red wine with dinner. I didn't even try to keep up with Sabine's rate of drinking as she seemed to be far more accustomed to it than I am. After the main meal, we had pain and fromage (bread and cheese) and I got to try a couple of types of cheese I had never had before. I've never had a cheese I didn't like and so, of course, I liked these. After that, we had more homemade wine which was walnut flavored red wine and was also quite good. We went to sleep at about 11, which is quite early for me for this trip.

Which brings up a subject which is really been bothering me. I've been so tired this whole trip. I usually sleep about 10 or 11 hours and as soon as I go out and attempt to walk anywhere I immediately get tired I can't figure out any reason why this may be except for my diet. I haven't been eating poorly, but I haven't been getting my usual amount of vegetables (they're so expensive!) and fruits. The last salad I had was a very measly one on the plane. By the way, did you know that salad is a type of lettuce? The dish that we know a salad is named that because of the type of lettuce originally used to make it. I have even been taking vitamins and have not missed a day yet. I told Cameron I started taking vitamins for this trip because, of all the things I wanted to do in Europe, getting sick was not one of them. Cameron said that that was a very sensible thing to do and that, of all the things he wanted to do in Europe, being sensible was not one of them. I laughed. Anyway, the only other thing I can think of is the great amount of walking I've been doing since my trip began. But I wouldn't think that would have such a major effect on me every day, you know? I slept until 11 this morning and began walking around Juziers and got really tired. That was when I sat down to begin writing this. If you have any ideas why this is happening to me, please let me know.

Friday, 1 March

           After I returned on Wednesday morning I went directly to the Louvre. I spent eight wonderful hours just roaming from room to room(and there are a lot of them!) I didn't even get to all of the sections even though I veritably whizzed through a good number of them. Of course, I saw the big works- the Mona Lisa, Venus de Milo, winged victory of Samothrace, and the slaves of Michelangelo. Because of my excellent sense of direction, combined with that complex design of the museum, I never really figured out how to get around it. I think I set out about three times to find the Mona Lisa and couldn't find it even though there were signs pointing the way. I had that same problem today. I was trying to find villa Savoia, a house designed by Le Corbusier. yet I couldn't find either the street it is supposed to be on, or the cross street. But I knew I was in the right area so I walked around for about 3 1/2 hours trying to find one house. I never found it. I would have kept looking but it started to rain and it was very cold. So, in essence, I did nothing today (except walk several miles). but that's OK because I'm really tired of Paris. I really want to leave-next stop Barcelona!! But I'm waiting on a certain postal delivery . . ,

After I totally exhausted myself at the Louvre I went and checked in at the other youth hostel. It's very large four or five floors of rooms plus a lounge area which is connected to a bar area which is all seen from above in the cafeteria. I came here because my Let's Go guide says it's one of the largest hostels in Europe and I thought for sure I could find a ride to Spain. Even though I was not successful there, one of the first people I met when I got here was an Australian architecture student who is doing his architecture tour of Europe and was planning on leaving for[blank for the rest of the page]

Being here in a predominantly French-speaking city I have realized that I really need to learn a foreign language. Even the most educated people know 2 often 3 languages, at least a little. For example, Amid, the guy who gave me the room to sleep in, has a Greek parent and an Iranian parent (I don't remember which is which) so he grew up speaking Arabic (or whatever it is that Iranians speak) and moved to Paris when he was in his teens. Here he learned to speak (but can't read) French he also knows English quite well.

It is now Sunday night. After I wrote that last bit I met this English guy (at the Louvre) who is having quite a bit of difficulty finding his way out. I thought that was funny since I understood completely. Anyway, he asked me if I fancied joining him for a cup of tea and when I told him of my dire financial straits he offered to finance the venture. As it turns out, he had taken a rather odd three-legged race. He was chained to another person by his left leg and the two of them had to hitchhike to Paris, along with several other pairs. He said they finished last sadly because it took them a whole 23 hours to get to Paris. He has also done a lot of traveling, mostly alone. He did three months in India, three months grape picking in France, and then various other trips. Since I had no plans for today I ended up hanging out with him until about seven. It was really a quite enjoyable day as it was about 18 degrees Celsius and sunny and everyone was outside. We had a walk in the park outside of the Louvre which was brimming with dog walkers and couples and sunseekers. Then we walked down the Champ-Elysses toward the Arc de Triomphe which is a really interesting stretch. On the way, we stopped to watch the contortionist do his act. People were lined up for almost 50 meters or so just to get into the movie theater. This I didn't understand, as spring in Paris must be spent outside, I think. Very romantic . . .

I think this is a big enough volume for now. I'll write more (lots!) Soon!

Till then,

Julie

Saturday, 2 March

           I think I left off talking about Dougal the architecture student from Australia. We befriended each other immediately because he said he has only met one other person on his trip who is interested in architecture. I don't know why, but it seems that a mutual interest in architecture creates a very strong bond between people; at least, that is how it has happened with me. So the next day Dougal and I took the train to Chartres, about 35, kilometers southwest of Paris, to go see Chartres cathedral, which I had studied in my art history class. Once again, I experienced a great rush when I found myself in Chartres France since it had previously only been a name in my book. The salient feature of Chartres is the amazing amount of stained glass surrounding the entire cathedral which makes it look like, from certain perspectives, just a massive color. We picnicked there in Chartres, in the largest spot of grass we were able to find, which was very small- probably about 12 square feet (you can tell I haven't been in Europe very long because I still measure distances in feet) after that, I went to Versailles and Dougal returned to Paris. As he had already seen the palace. I didn't have any particularly strong desire to go to Versailles it was just kind of a token visit because one of the things you must do in Paris is see the palace at Versailles. Well, even though I wasn't expecting much, I was still disappointed. All it was was a bunch of cheap rococo mish-mosh with all kinds of cupids and fat women on the ceiling and fake gold leaf painted everywhere. I was fortunate to hook up with an English-speaking guy conducting a tour so that I could benefit at least a little from being there by.


Sunday 3 March

I must apologize for the interruption the first bit was written by dear Mia, a guy from Russia. I don't know what it says but there is something about Tennessee. The next part was written by Henrik, a guy from Germany who I met at the beginning of my stay in Paris at the other youth hostel.

           Anyway, Versailles was boring. Afterwards I returned to the hostel and painted a t-shirt for Sylvain. The next day was my unsuccessful house searching day and Saturday was also rather unsuccessful. Henrik and I tried to go to a rugby game but it was a large competition and scalpers were selling tickets for as much as 300 francs (about $70). so that was not to be for us. We went to a friend's (Henrik's friend) apartment because we were both hungry. I appreciated the free meal but his friend Catarin was extremely annoying. (As I am attempting to write this there is a very strange French man I assume who is standing over my shoulder watching me. I asked him to leave about 15 minutes ago but he said he didn't understand. I waved him away but that didn't work either. He keeps talking to me in miserably limited English and I am completely ignoring him but he continues to talk, even as I write this. It's really quite amusing but annoying at the same time.) Catarin is from a wealthy family and has been living in Paris for six weeks and is only just now trying to find a job. She just bought an obviously expensive stereo (the money given to her by her parents) and about 10 CDs. But the worst part about her is her terribly pretentious attitude. When I said I might want to go to school in Europe she said I probably wouldn't be able to because the final examination levels in the states as compared to Europe as far as high school are a much and she emphasized much, lower level. Well, it may be true that high schools in the US are lacking a bit, I think I emerged from mine managing to at least read and write sufficiently. Plus I have the type of mentality that makes me want to take care of myself and not sponge off my parents for the rest of my life, as some spoiled children are want to do. Thinking about it now is making me angrier than I actually was at the time, so I think I'll stop.

           I have managed to live very cheaply the past several days. I changed 40 American dollars on Wednesday and 20 on Thursday. I paid for two nights at the youth hostel but have not spent much since then. I've stayed at the hostel for two nights without paying and have even befriended much of the staff. The first night I didn't pay was Friday and I managed to swindle a key to one of the unoccupied rooms on the 5th floor, which is not being used because there aren't that many occupants. The next night (Saturday) I slept in a girl's bed who I had befriended who never came back to the room. I don't plan on paying for tonight either. I will be happy to sleep on the floor if I must. My European trip will be greatly shortened if I actually do everything legitimately and pay for it. I've been getting around Paris free by just going either over or under the turnstiles at the subway. It is risky because official type people pay occasional surprise visits to the subway daily. If I were caught I don't know what I'd do or what would happen. Dougal got caught and was fined 130 francs (about 23 subway rides or about $28) it's not much, but if I can get away with it, I'll continue doing it. Today I decided to come to the Louvre because I had been told that it was free on Sundays and I thought it would make a nice place to do some writing. I got here and the guy at the ticket counter said it was 15 francs. When I started to leave he said you have not even 15 francs about $3 with you? I smiled sheepishly in shook my head and he said that it was OK for me to go in. so now I'm sitting next to the winged victory of Samothrace and writing and people watching.

           I never considered myself ethnocentric before but I am so tired of being in a country full of only brown-haired brown-eyed people whose language tends to sound a bit like Spanish when they speak very quickly. I didn't realize until I got here that the people would all be so non-Germanic. This made it difficult for me because I attract a lot of unwanted attention. I was walking down the street a few days ago and a man driving by stopped his car, got out, and came up to me, professing his love for me telling me how much he loves the white skin and the white hair. Then, another man coming from the opposite direction kind of waved him away and proceeded to tell me that he wanted to buy me dinner and take me out. Whenever things like this happen, I'm always very nice. I smile and say "no, mercy." But if they are persistent I firmly tell them no and ask them to leave me alone. Fortunately, it has never gotten to a point where I feel threatened. Because of experiences like this, I doubt if I'll stay in Spain very long. I just don't have the patience for it. I had originally thought that I might stay in Spain and try to get a job but now I'm not sure. I had even thought of going down to Morocco which is only a short ferry ride across the Strait of Gibraltar but now I seriously doubt it. I can't wait to get to Germany land of the Aryan race!

















          

 

Saturday, February 26, 2022

23 Feb 91

23 Feb 91

Chere mama an cher papa,

           Tout va tres bien, je veux vous recounter mes adventures . . .

           My introduction into French culture was very sudden, as the DC-10 I think transported me across the Atlantic was in itself a petite France. Although everything was spoken bilingually, it seemed everyone on the plane was French. However, the most important aspect of my plane trip was the distinct feeling that I got, that I was not merely going on a vacation but on a very long-term discovery adventure. Everything around me was causing foreign stimulus (it seems after six days that I am having a great deal of difficulty speaking English smoothly . . .), such as the flight across the ocean (my first) the French spoken over the intercom, the large plane (to which I was unaccustomed) which I was aware meant a transoceanic flight, and especially the knowledge that I would be touching down in a foreign country.

           My arrival at the Paris Orly airport was another sudden shock. I expected at least that the airport would be helpful for foreign travelers, with things printed bilingually, etc. Boy, I was wrong! I found myself in a strange land, exhausted from jet lag (imagine it was 9:00 AM in Paris but 2:00 AM and Nashville and I had hardly slept on the plane because I wanted to experience everything), knowing nothing of the native tongue, and nothing is printed in English. I found the counter where I was to change my money but how was I to know if I was being taken for a ride because I wasn't familiar in the least with the concept of changing U.S. dollars to francs, or even changing money at all. At this point, I was at one of the most vulnerable points of my life thus far.

           My next great goal was to find out how to get into Paris. I had envisioned this task as being a little easier than it actually was. I had thought I would find some nice, helpful, English-speaking person at the information counter who would take my hand (figuratively) and tell me exactly what to do and perhaps invite me to stay with her family for a few days. As it was, I got a very rapidly speaking French woman who I think probably thought I was crazy knowing neither the language nor how to get anywhere. She was explaining how to take the bus to the train station and I asked twice the name of the stop and caught it neither time but heard her mention that it was the last stop so I figured that I could probably tell the last stop by all the people leaving the bus. Which is exactly how it happened. I could elaborate, but I think I'll shorten things by saying that I made it, With great difficulty, to the correct stop on the metro (Charles de Gaulle/Etoile) on the way we passed the Eiffel Tower, which is smaller than I expected. As it turned out, Charles de Gaulle/Etoile stop on the metro is where the Arc de Triomphe is. So, within 5 minutes of each other, I unexpectedly stumbled upon two major monuments of the world. Anyway, the streets in Paris are arranged around statues,

 


monuments, major buildings, etc . . . For example, I must have walked around that circle 16 times or so trying to accomplish the things that I needed to accomplish. Anyway, I made it to the youth hostel at about 4:30, starving, with no food because I discovered everything is tres cher (very expensive), and so tired, considering my extreme jet lag and the fact that I had probably walked 10 miles or so. I don't know if I can communicate what a great feeling it was arriving at the hostel. I instantly felt at ease, as it was warm (about 40 degrees and windy outside) there were lots of young people lounging about, drinking coffee, talking, reading, etc . . ., and there was good music playing, and I was equipped with an AYH card. The card gave me the feeling that I belonged there. I was finally in allied territory. The first thing I did after taking my bags upstairs was to get a cup of (hot) coffee (oh! I forgot to tell you about the first European cup of coffee. I was in the midst of my journey to find the hostel and I had to stop to get something to eat and drink and rest for a few minutes (and to thaw out I really could have used a pair of gloves and a hat!) very quickly I understood why Scott et al complains about American coffee, as this was the best coffee (cafe) I'd ever had. So there I was sitting in the front of the Louvre, sipping on a cup of wonderful cafe au lait, eating a baguette w/fromage (fraise!) having no idea what adventure I was in for . . .)

           Anyway, back to the hostel . . . before I even had a chance to sit down a girl with an Australian accent asked me to sit with her. We enjoyed talking to each other and decided to go out that night but I said that I had to get some sleep beforehand, as I was suffering serious jetlag. So I slept until 8 when she woke me. I met with her downstairs and found her sitting with four other guys from Australia. I was still quite disoriented from my exhaustion and that combined with the fact that I had just awakened was picked up immediately by Cameron and Simon and Floody and Stewart who used every opportunity to try to confuse me and to make fun of me. Of course, it was all in good fun. We never even went out that night just stayed there and met more people and played cards and drank cheap (tres $2 a bottle!) French wine.

(Photo Credit Narell Barclay)

The next two days I spent with the same six people (these four plus Norell and another guy Martin) and were two of the best days I've ever had in my life.
(Photo Credit Narell Barclay)

The next day we all went to Notre Dame, where, as I said in my postcard I cried. I think you can understand without me having to explain myself. That was a beautiful, 60 degrees and sunny day and we picnicked on the steps of the Palais de Chaillot

which has a magnificent view of the Eiffel Tower, and watched young people skate and do amazing feats of skill on skateboards.


We all went back to the hostel and slept or bathed or whatever and then met downstairs at about 9:00 for more cards and cheap wine. There were more people this time about 15 and we had an absolute blast. I hit it off really well with Cameron who just finished uni (Aussie for college) with an engineering degree and who, if I hadn't liked him so much, I probably wouldn't have liked him at all, as he is very overbearing and arrogant.
(Cameron with a shirt hand painted by Julie Wahl. Photo Credit Narell Barclay)
He told me he gets misunderstood frequently. I know what that means. Some of us stayed up until about 4:00 AM, socializing. The next morning I got up about 10:00 AM to check out, as I had found a place to stay with a service host. I must not have yet recovered from my jet lag because I went back to sleep and slept until 4:00 in the afternoon. All the Aussies were meeting up with their other friends with whom they've been travelling and who were staying in the other I YHF hostel for dinner. As it turns out it was a very interesting dinner. At the restaurant where myself, 12 Australians, two Germans who didn't speak great English and a waiter who hardly spoke a whit of Englais (oops! I didn't mean to do that the French is coming naturally to me now . . .) then there was Cameron's ex girlfriend of 2 1/2 weeks who was painfully, obviously, heartsick, sitting at the other end of the table, and this other girl who had been traveling with Cameron who made it clear that she didn't like him (or maybe she just misunderstood him) and they were making verbal attacks on each other all night. With her sitting to my immediate left and Cameron to my right I was directly in the line of fire. At least it made for an interesting evening, as my emotions weren't involved. After dinner Cameron walked me to Sylvain’s flat (pronounced like your name, mom, without the I). As it turns out, Sylvain is blind and of course, I didn't know that, as I had only talked to him on the telephone Sylvain is very interesting he has shelves and shelves and shelves full of cassette tapes, mostly classical. As you walk in the door to his flat there's a larger-than-life-sized poster of a woman, torso and above, wearing only a bra. But of course, Sylvain can't see it only his visitors can. He has traveled virtually all over the world and sometimes alone! That, I think, is the most amazing feature of his personality, especially considering my adventures since I left home. He has many, many, seemingly good quality friends (I asked Sylvain wants what he thought about Americans, in general, he said that they're very nice but it seems like it is difficult to find good friends. How right he is!) Anyway, I didn't really get to talk to Sylvain until Friday night because our schedules made it impossible. Thursday during the day I walked to the Musee d'Orsay which holds many, many great works of art (Manet's Olympia, some Frank Lloyd Wright furniture, lots and lots of Degas and Renoir sculptures. Then I visited  Sainte Chappelle, a little Chapel that I had studied in my art history class. As with Notre Dame, I cried when I saw it. However, this one was more meaningful to me because of all the chapels of study this one was always special because all the photos made it look like a little gem of a Chapel not so grand in size but amazingly intricate. The photos were right. At first, it was seemingly modest and under imposing but then I went inside and I was overwhelmed by the beauty of it. This time I had to sit down and cry. It's such an amazing feeling to know that it was my desire, my motivation, my hard work and my finances that made it possible for me to see these things. It feels good to think about a year ago when I was sitting in my art history class in Chattanooga studying these things and it wasn't good enough for me to simply see the photographs. I knew that I had to see them myself but I had no idea that it would be so soon or that it would be such a challenge for me to do so.

           I get the distinct feeling that a lot of people feel I should have been better prepared for this trip, considering that I don't know much French at all and I have no itinerary, very little money (until I hear from you) no plans to return home, etc . . . but I've begun to realize that I had to do this trip this way because it's a way for me to prove myself that I really can take care of myself in many circumstances where others may not be so adventurous. It's the challenge of it all with which for some reason I feel I need to be presented, and although it may cause me much doubt/consternation/worry, I have to do it, just so I'll know I can make it through. For some, it's graduating from college for others it's training for the Olympics. This is my way to prove myself.

24 Feb 91

I called Jerry earlier today I hope he relayed the messages concerning the credit card and the travelers' checks as I am getting restless and would very much like to leave Paris. There are so many places I have to see that I feel I've been here long enough already. But since I have to wait a few days before I can leave, this is my temporary plan: I have arranged to stay Monday and Tuesday nights with a family on a farm about 35 kilometers to the West of Paris. Wednesday night is with a 42-year-old English translator who speaks Swedish as well as French and English. He seems to be very nice, from what I can detect on the phone. I have yet to find a place for Thursday night. Then by Friday, I should have some money so I want to stay in the other IYHF hostel (there are two in Paris) for Friday and Saturday nights. My Let's Go guide says it's one of the largest hostels in all of Europe so I should be able to find someone to travel with. I don't know where I want to go after Paris so I want to look at the ride board for ideas or if that doesn't work I'll just ask around.

Anyway, back to my undoubtedly inadequate summation of my Parisian adventures thus far. It is an interesting feature of Paris that it is so small. If you need to go from one end of the city to the other it would take about two hours to do so. Of course, most of the places I've had to go have not been that far apart. So I've developed this philosophy: in general, Parisians are so fit because things are not far enough apart to justify driving (plus there's nowhere to park!) Or spending the 5.20 F (about $1.20) on the metropolitan (the subway), so they just walk. And the distance is far enough so that they are able to get a good workout. I'm hardly being facetious when I say this as there must be some explanation as to why everyone is so thin! I think I've seen one person since I've been here who I would consider to be obese. I can't tell you how refreshing it is.

One of the more romantic images I've often conjured up in my mind in the past is that of a picnic consisting of such items as wine, cheese, bread, and grapes. I have the feeling that after this trip that will no longer be the case. I have had so much bread since I got here that I probably wouldn't miss it if I didn't have any for a long, long time. It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't all white, but it is. And one thing that's really driving me bananas (pun intended) is the fresh fruits and vegetables are so expensive. A few nights ago I paid 38 francs over $7 for an apple and a bunch (small) of grapes. I hope it's not that way in all of Europe.

Picking up where I left off several pages and trains of thought ago, After Sainte Chapelle's I went to the Pompidou center (another building that I studied) and viewed their permanent collection of modern art. I have to admit that I was a little disappointed because there were wasn't much there that really excited me too much Picasso, Ledger, Braque etc . . . and not enough Warhol, Rothko, Johns, etc . . . of course the first three I mentioned are all French (not Picasso) and the last three are all American (I didn't do that intentionally!) So it seems I need to go to New York if I want to view modern art. Come to think of it, in recent years Americans have really been on the cutting edge of the developments in artistic trends. For once, they’re where the action is. For once I'm proud to be an American!

Friday wasn't so productive I intended to go to the Louvre but didn't get there until three since I went via the best deal and had to walk quite a ways. The line at the Louvre was long and I want to give myself several hours to get through it. So I decided to save it for another day.

Saturday I went with Sylvain to meet friends of his Olivia and Michele (Michele is a man) we went to Olivia's flat and had lunch consisting of bread, cheese (imagine that!) and tomatoes and smoked Chinese tea (in that sentence "smoked" is an adjective, not a verb.) Michele started talking about the war. I don't even remember what he said but he got absolutely no comment from me and so the subject was quickly dropped. For a moment I felt a little guilty for not responding to his comments but I think that if a subject arises which I find unpleasant to discuss it is my prerogative not to do so. So I chose not to. At any rate, it was a very nice lunch. Olivia's apartment building is in a nice old arrondissement of Paris. Sylvain was telling me that a lot of apartments are in old, renovated buildings, as is his. He said that Olivia's building however is not that old only 300 years or so. That comment, as I'm sure you can imagine, caused a very sudden realization of cultural differences.

           Saturday night was spent bar hopping since Sylvain is planning a party for which he chooses 6 bars and gives each person invited a list of clues as to which bar to go to, and the last stop is his apartment. He chose Saturday night to go to each one and look around (interesting choice of words on his part, I think) and make sure he made good choices. When we got back to his flat, Sylvain did something which displeased me but at the same time I took it as a compliment he attempted to make a romantic advance on me which I aborted very quickly and definitively. But I realized that, since he can't see me, and I don't wear any perfume, the attraction mustn't be physical. there must be something about my personality that he liked. It's been very interesting staying with Sylvain because it's forced me to look at many things from a new perspective

This morning Saturday I woke to a beautiful, springlike day. It was about 60 degrees and sunny. But I had no motivation. I didn't even go outside until about 5:00 PM I think the depression was caused by several factors. There was my sudden discomfort staying there with Sylvain because of his advance The night before. I wanted to just pack up my things and leave but I'm so low on money that staying at the hostel would not have been practical. Then there was the realization that I will be leaving Paris soon (hopefully) and that involves going to a new city which is unfamiliar (I feel very comfortable in Paris now because I know it well), finding someone to go with, finding an economical way to get there, etc… in short, it's the fear of the unknown. It's the same feeling that plagued me before my bicycle trip and before I left for this trip. I hope that someday I can overcome this fear. So I spent the afternoon washing clothes and at 5 I called Jerry. I had to leave the building to call since Sylvain's phone is restricted (he gets a lot of travelers and must be careful) when I went outside I discovered what a beautiful day it really was and decided to make my pilgrimage to Montmartre (mont-mart).



it is an area of Paris which has become very artsy because of the fame of the Moulin Rouge, made famous by Tallulah tracks painting at the Moulin Rouge. You can see this area in the postcard I sent you. 



If I had visited the area before. I would not have bought the postcard. It has been degraded by a Quickie Burger (two stories!) next door and a sex shop underneath. It is the first real disappointment I have experienced in Paris. The Bastille was boring but that's because my expectations were not set very high. I had expected more from the Moulin Rouge. Anyway, Montmartre is on a hill, and at the top of the hill perches a magnificent basilican church which is over 5 centuries old and it's called Sacre Coeur, or the Church of the Sacred Heart. It sits atop the largest hill in Paris- a San Francisco-type hill. When I visited the Pompidou center on Thursday I had stepped outside to take in the panoramic view that the 5th floor afforded me and Sacre Coeur was just amazingly beautiful. It was by far the most outstanding feature of all that I could see more beautiful than Notre Dame or the Eiffel Tower. It really exceeded my expectations because I wasn't aware that it was here as it was for some reason, not a very well-known monument. Or maybe it is and I just somehow missed out. Anyway, I hate to try to explain how beautiful it was because I don't know if I can do it justice let me just say this as with the other chapels my tears were rolling. I'll write more soon.

[from the postcard]

Dear folks at home,

In my first day in Paris, I saw the Arc de Triomphe the outside of the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Seine, and the Pompidou Centre and I wasn't even sightseeing! I was just trying to find a place to stay! I never knew that finding my way out of an airport into the city would be so challenging, or rewarding! When I was on the subway traveling towards my first destination, the tourist office, I felt such a triumphant feeling because communication is so difficult when hardly anyone speaks English! But I made it! I stayed in a youth hostel and met lots of guys and girls from Australia it's their summer vacation and played cards and was rowdy with them until about 3:00 in the morning. Now it's the morning on Tuesday we're headed towards Notre Dame and who knows where else. I won't be staying long in Paris long though I'm sure because it's very expensive. But I don't know where the next stop is. I had no idea there were so few blondes in this part of France! I really stand out here, without even trying! I must go as the guys are getting restless and want to begin the big day of sightseeing. I'll write more later

Love,

Julie






















April 2022

Julie had just turned 37 on July 19th when she died on September 5th of 2007. She was in transition to a new life and a new career and as sh...