Day 1 ORY and Paris

Day 1 – Paris

OMG WHAT A DAY! I (Lyneah) left RDU at 11 and got to Kennedy late at 1:00 PM due to a technical issue and due to the fact that it's Kennedy. Plenty of time to find Open Skies and find out they are not open until 2:30 PM so I went and found a Starbucks where they were out of Cinnamon Dolce so they made up a substitute which was really good. Four security officers, two before me and two after, had me feeling rather secure there. Kennedy's new Terminal 5 is lovely, but not well marked and if you were deaf, you'd never know which train to take in which direction –the only way is listening to the loud speaker. Foreigners without a good grasp of spoken English and deaf would have a great deal of difficulty.

Open Skies is the way to travel. The plane was completely full so I was not able to be bumped up to first class (called BIZ BED), but I AM NOT COMPLAINING! Biz is wonderful. I had a Sortie seat (exit row - the plane was a remade l'Avion (the food carts still had l'Avion's name) and everything was in French including most of the flight attendants) and I could not have touched the seat in front of me if I slouched all the way down and stretched out! There were two rather large and comfy reclining seats on each side of an aisle large enough for a cart and people passing by and Flight Attendants willing to pull over to let you by with a smile!!!!!

Then, the service. WOW! First, a bottle of water awaited us at our seats with a sealed blanket and a packet containing an eye shield, a pair of slipper socks, ear plugs, the cutest little tooth brush and toothpaste (now if I could only remember to take it to the WC – the world seems to have adopted the English phrase WC (water closet) for the bathroom) -- everything you didn't think to take. They gave us champagne and/or orange juice. Then they provided personal video devices complete with your choice of about 10 movies, cartoons, games, TV shows, etc. I tried two games, couldn't figure them out and decided against a movie thinking I'll get food soon and be asleep before the movie gets started. I was wrong about that.

Then a hot cloth to wash your hands and face.  Yummy.  What a nice touch!  Then the Flight Attendants took their time to make sure each passenger was well taken care of as they passed out the dinner and I was in the last row to be served. It was SO worth the wait. The appetizer was a combo of seafood that I would have been happy with at the RITZ! A grilled shrimp, an encrusted salmon that was soooooooooooooooo good, a small interesting salad, another white fish, yummy all on  really cute square plates. Dinner was fish and rice noodles with grilled veggies, all good, though not at the level of the appetizer. Rolls that looked great, but I passed and just tasted the brie alone on its plate with grapes and butter. Desert was a three layer chocolate mouse with a ganache topping and a chocolate cookie style crust. Again yummy! The champagne was not to my liking but the Chardonnay was good. Did I mention stainless flatware and cloth placemats and cloth napkins and hot towels served before dinner? I tell you it's the way to go!

The seats tilt way back and the footrest comes up. It took me a while to realize that there's a flip down portion that makes it way more comfy. Alex's friend Miguel was very attentive and sweet. The French male attendant was also very nice and helpful. I can see you guys work really hard! This is a full service flight and I wasn't even in first class. A box of truffles ended the meal and I saved them for the morning planning to have one to wake me a bit and save one for Mark. Sorry Mark, they were so good I ate the second too. I am old enough to remember when regular airplanes had meals and service but even TWA at its best was never this good. The comfort of this flying experience is worth some extra cash.

Once I arrived at Orly, I had no problems getting in and finding the cafe I thought we were to meet at. Mark was in the same area - but one floor down. I started getting worried, bought a pre-paid telephone account at Relay, called our international cell which Mark was carrying and left a message as to where I was (Center Cafe near G between arrivals and departures). It never occurred to me there would be another level of cafes, as the departures and arrivals were all on one level. As I was walking to the Info desk again where the women were very helpful in both languages, I ran into Mark.


Meanwhile, in a parallel universe... Once I (Mark) had dropped off Lyneah, it was my turn to drive down to Charlotte and travel in somewhat more plebeian style, courtesy of US Airways. The good news: they have a non-stop to Paris. The not-so-great news: it was a very full coach section, full of students returning to university from their American vacations with lots of baggage.

The lets-make-an-adventure-out-of-this news: they fly into Charles de Gaulle airport on the northeast edge of Paris, whereas Open Skies flies into the other Paris airport, Orly, in the southern suburbs. So, armed only with maps, memory, and a halting command of le langue francais, I made my way across Paris during the morning rush hour, pausing only to pick up a pair of day-travel passes at Gare du Nord (which would have been fairly simple if the ticket window had been anywhere near the train platforms, but you get the idea). Parisian commuter trains are clean if not brand-new, quiet, and very efficient. Also, Parisian graffiti artists are extremely prolific and talented!

Another train and the airport shuttle later I arrived at Orly, only to find myself on the other side (or different level) of the situation Lyneah described so well before I started.

So, at last - Our two wandering (if exhausted) lovers, reunited in Paris!

The shuttle to the Kyriad hotel came after the lady at the info desk called for us as we couldn't find the box Alex described to call them. They came quickly and the hotel is just as Alex advised - business class, reasonable rate, clean with some room compared to the older hotels in Paris. After a bath and nap (BTW, do put the do not disturb sign out - the maid tried to enter despite a double lock), we were off. Helpful staff directed us to an e/w bus that was quite full through Orly to the Metro. We made our way to La Tour Eiffel first. Horribly long lines kept us from going up, but we spent time directly beneath the center of the tower.

It was a late afternoon by now, and it had turned into a fantastic day - mostly sunny, 70's and a nice breeze. Picture perfect. After realizing that nether of us had had lunch (and Mark hadn't had much breakfast to speak of), it was time to set out to find a reasonably priced bistro. Right! In any event, we found a lovely brasserie, Cafe Dome, which we enjoyed very much, then back to the streets and a quick Starbucks (Lyneah can find one anywhere!).

The Metro is your friend.  Figure out where you want to go, know the final destination of that route and it will get you where you want to go.  

Our wanderings took us to the American Church in Paris (closed, but the concierge did allow us in for a brief visit and the bathrooms are free!), then across to the Right Bank and past the old Grand Palace, now the Musee de la Decouverture (also closed) and the Champs Elysee, which gave us a clear if traffic-clogged view of the Arc de Triomphe. A quick hop on the Metro (which, by the way, is what all subways should be) brought us to Saint-Chapelle and Notre-Dame on the Ile de la Cite (closed, of course, but we will be back in the Paris at the end of our trip). C'est dommage – the light would have been perfect to see the great rose window from inside Notre-Dame. We stood on the plaque, fixed in the sidewalk in front of the cathedral, which is the zero point for surveying all of France. In many ways it is both the geographical and emotional heart of the country (the original city of Paris was just two islands in the Seine - Ile de la Cite and Ile St-Louis).

It was near dark by this time, so we crossed Le Petit Pont and found a restaurant Alex and Lyneah ate at 10 years ago. It's the only thing still the same on that block except for the Saint - Severin Cathedral. Dinner followed at a sweet little Turkish place on Blvd. St-Jacques in the Latin Quarter (with possible (Mark) undoubtedly (Lyneah) the best lamb we've ever tasted – or maybe we were just really hungry!) , then back to the Metro and the bus for the return to the Kyriad. A very full two days, and we're just getting started! Our legs are very aware of how much we walked today, and the rest of us was very aware of how wonderful it has all been. Throughout the trip we did healing work, however, this journal covers mostly the physical aspects rather than the metaphysical aspects of the trip.

This is my first attempt at blogging, and I think it's easier than I thought it would be, but I am sure there are fine points that I will learn as I go along. I don't think it's putting the pictures where I want them, rather where it wants them, but at this point that is minor. Hope you will enjoy traveling with us.

Day 2 Paris to Zermatt, Switzerland

We were up early and off to Orly to rent our Ford diesel sedan, which turned out to be a Peugeot. Nice. Not hyper-economical, but pretty good at about 52 mpg.  Back to the hotel as my ankle was very swollen from all the walking and stair-climbing we did the day before and the flying doesn’t help with swelling.  We loaded up, then we were off, with help from Jeeves (our exceedingly polite British-butler-voiced GPS we’ve named Jeeves).  Mark downloaded European maps for our GPS, and it is working fantastically.  He (Mark) is an excellent driver and is managing so far very well.  I drive occasionally as well, but he’s doing the lion’s share and enjoying it most of the time.

Once we started on the road, Mc Donalds lured us in on the promise of free wifi on which it did not make good.  4.65 E (Euros currently 1.43 US Dollars = 1 Euro so 4.65E equals $6.51)  for a processed square of chicken  sandwich equally as bad as what they serve in the USA, if not worse.   Café (an espresso) 1.25E.  Don't be fooled.  A freshly made crepe on the streets of Paris with ham, mushrooms and egg or filled with banana and Nutella at 5E  is a way better value and much more fun.


If you would have landed me in rural Central France without seeing the buildings, there were times that I might have thought I was in West Virginia; other places, I might have thought Arizona had become green.  The countryside has the long views of the American Southwest and the green of the East, along with oranges, yellows and reds all its own.  We rolled through hundreds of kilometers of vast fields of sunflowers, wheat and corn.

Eventually the hills became steep and had a character all their own; clearly we had reached the Alps.  We stopped at Montreux to touch Lake Geneva, which is stunning... found a sweet park along the lake where you can put up a tent and spend the night.  Would have been a good call had we had a tent.  Along the road from Lausanne to Tasch, we went through over 9 tunnels, some of them 2 miles long, and we agreed that even in the face of a major earthquake they would remain intact and neat.

The Swiss, of course, would have it no other way.  Switzerland is about precision.  Things work really well.  The doors go (I need a hand motion inserted here to show open) and they go (insert hand motion showing shut) very perfectly and efficiently. They make almost no noise at all.  Some are actually silent.  Everything is clean and beautiful. Even the garage floor at the train station (very busy) looks recently cleaned and polished.  You feel you could safely use the 20 second rule here for dropped food.  It’s the “God is a Clockmaker” country and I don’t even think they are aware the rest of the world does not create this energy.

We drove through a long valley with taller mountains on both sides than anywhere else we’d been.  Then the climb to Visp was sudden and sharp.  It has to be this way because of the steepness of the mountains; there really is no going over them easily.  Many switchbacks and sharp curves led to the quick ascent to Visp’s 2680 feet – and one is still in the main valley.  Heading up a side valley to Tasch at 4868 feet meant a 2,200 ft climb in a few minutes.

Tasch, which is about 8-10 miles from Zermatt, is the end of the public road – only electric vehicles are allowed past that point, to keep the remainder of the valley pollution-free.  Yet another piece of clever Swiss foresight  So the last leg of today's trip was via the quiet efficient electric train that takes you up to 5815 ft. at Zermatt.   The top of the glacier is 9,800 ft.  The Matterhorn itself tops off at 14,691.  Once we're there, my ears are still ringing and if this train doesn't stop running through my head, I don't know how I'll sleep – exhaustion will work I guess.

In Tasch we had a nice dinner, served by an incredibly hard-working Dutch woman who spoke English, Dutch, German, and French very well and could switch from one to another easily. Swizz (Switzer) Deutsch is the language of the area but many people are multi-lingual.  It was the first time I've spoken German to a German on Germanic soil.  Mark said I looked very comfortable.  I did feel somewhat at home there.

As we've mentioned, the Swiss are precise.  The automatic doors are so quiet that even if you stop and listen you can't hear them!    In Paris, you go downstairs into ancient cellars where bathrooms are located and you can tell there is 1000 year old dirt ground into ancient stones.  In Switzerland, you go down clean and neat stairs (regardless of their age) and find an immaculate bathroom where the tiles meet perfectly and it feels like it's been disinfected less than an hour ago.

Lake Geneva

Walk to the campground on Lake Geneva











From the station at Zermatt, there was one final athletic adventure, climbing cobblestone streets with our bags to our very high up, very petite hotel (it was called Le Petit Hotel).  The air is very clean, but also quite thin.  I’m glad we took our Chlorophyll supplement.  It’s after dark and the way is much longer than expected.  Fortunately we called the hotel ahead letting them know of our later-than expected arrival.  They told us the code to get in the front door, left a key in an envelope with our names on the desk.  Off they went to bed as they get up really early to make the breakfast.

Staircase at the Petit Hotel in Zermatt

Many things were petite about this hotel – it has the smallest lift we've ever seen.  We had to go up one at a time and squeeze to get one bag in with us. Here we are on our 4th floor and ready for sleep.  We open the window wide.  It too works perfectly despite the age of the building.  I think the Swiss know better than to put another coat of paint on a window without removing the old one.  Nothing sticks even though this building is ancient.  The air is refreshingly crisp and clean.  No smell of fumes is a delight to our noses.  You can smell flowers.  Many buildings are decked with window boxes full of colorful flowers.  There is no sign of the Matterhorn view our internet booking promised.  There is no moon and it’s a bit overcast, so we’ll have to wait till the morning to see the solitary peak that draws so much attention in the heart of Europe.  I am disappointed that no stars are visible either.  The room is small and nice.  It’s a good sized village so the lights might block view of the stars.  We are tired but all good.  Goodnight.

Swiss Train

Look at how clean this train is and the tracks and the station and below look at the cool train car. 

Matterhorn

It's not often you wake up and desire three to four glasses of tap water.  The last time I (L) had that I was in Mt. Shasta. This was the first thing I did early in the morning, after opening the window to see the Matterhorn.  When you open the window first thing in the morning with a street sweeping machine under you and all you smell is the aroma of good, fresh bread, where are you?  Perhaps Zermatt.  That's where we were.  Perhaps, we will all soon realize that wealth is having clean air and water and excellent organic food.  (In France, organic is called biologique.  All over France and Switzerland we found very wide spread recycling – except, oddly enough, in Paris.)

Switzerland is just as I imagined it from song and movie and stereotypes.  I wanted to take pictures of everything because it's all so cute!  Swiss Chalets all over the place with cute window boxes full of flowers.  It is clean.

There is an energy of order in Switzerland that did not exist as soon as we crossed over the border into Italy; more on that later.  We felt it coming into Switzerland - not a girdle exactly, but more like biking pants.  The Swiss will hold you in place and keep you well-behaved, but you can still have fun.  There were no abandoned buildings I saw anywhere in Switzerland.  Even very old buildings were functional, cared for and well kept.  Repairs were neat and orderly and made to fit the décor.

Everywhere you looked there were flowers – not on every building, but on most.  The stereotype Swiss Chalet is everywhere - even in France before you come into Switzerland there are very sweet chalets and bistros dressed up as chalets.  Zermatt is home to several ski resorts; in fact, we saw people heading for the train up the mountain with skis - in August!

Lederhosen – where are my lederhosen when I need them?  If you come to Zermatt in the summer, lederhosen would be quite at home.  Shorts, a plaid shirt, a backpack that comes across the chest like lederhosen straps and a walking stick or two – that's the costume of preference, although I did see a few Parisian women in their finest version of  “casual” – one walking two of the most fashionably trimmed and obedient poodles I've ever seen.

Do you think she's the Wilde Hilde? 

A couple of observations about the railways that climb the valley from Visp to Gornergrat, above Zermatt:  how someone could put any railway through there, much less an efficient, well-traveled one, is a testament to great engineering and sheer determination.  By necessity they are narrow gauge (1 meter), but the cars seem wide enough, and are very comfortable.  Several stretches operate as a cog railway, with gradients of up to 12%, possibly more on the line from Zermatt to Gornergrat; 3% grades are considered difficult for normal railroads.  Even after riding on it, I'm reminded of a comment from the Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy: 'Prove it to me and I still won't believe it”. The trains, as expected, depart exactly on time.

Day 4 Damanhur

Damanhur main buildiing welcomes visitors and houses them on the second floor: a dormitory style with a kitchen area for all to use.  No AC but the nights were cool Platapus at the left was our tour guide.  Italian, but English speaking, he spoke mostly with his hands.  He was a good guide.

www.damanhur.org

 For an eagle (or a very hardy crow), the distance from Zermatt to Damanhur, Italy is only about 40-50 km; for us more earthbound creatures, though, it's about four times that, via the ultra-spectacular Simplon Pass, which features several kilometers of tunnels open on one side for ventilation and view.  A few km down the other side, we finally reached the Italian frontier, where we were once again simply waved through – Homeland Security must be appalled at how open the borders are here since the European Union was formed.
One last note about Switzerland:  at Simplon Pass itself, where we had lunch, there is an enormous (about 20 m tall) statue of an Eagle, honoring the Swiss Brigades who kept the country neutral during World War II; just a reminder that for all its friendliness, Switzerland is not a country you'd want to mess with!

Once we crossed into Italy, things felt very different.  The roads (except for the Autostrade) become narrow, and then they narrow again and when you think they can't there's a sign indicating they narrow yet again. Thank GOD for good tires because there are no shoulders at all!  There were times I (L) had to be really careful not to stick the camera out the window because it would have been knocked out of my hand!  Time extends, and the general vibe shifts from 'practical' to 'old'.  There were few if any abandoned buildings in France and Switzerland.  Not so in Italy.  The vibe changed.  Time seems halted somehow.  Language also becomes an issue for the first time, as neither of us has even a basic proficiency in Italian.  Despite this, Jeeves does manage to guide us to Damanhur (about 40km north of Torino) with a minimum of fuss. Thank GOD for Jeeves the GPS, who is very accurate about every roundabout - and there are many.

Italians are not in a hurry for anything except meals, or when they are in a car or on a motorcycle.  Motorcycles were very prevalent in Italy; on the highways they pass very dangerously and are able to hug the center line to pass when you think 'surely they won't do that' (screaming in the background) on a 12% downward grade with a stiff curve coming into yet another tunnel.  The mountains on this trip are Swiss cheese, full of holes!  We lost count of tunnels long ago.

The Damanhur welcome was friendly despite the welcome center being a busy place.  Our welcome was a bit confused - they thought we were coming a day later.  It was difficult to get communication going with them (telephone, fax and email were not very effective, and hand signals don't work very well across an ocean).  Fortunately they were accommodating and we have a dorm style room clean and nice with Swiss style showers, with doors that meet at the corner.  (A study of how many different kinds of plumbing there are in the world would be fascinating!)  We were given a guided tour to know where not to go and what to do.  Tomorrow we will get to go to the underground temples and we get to meditate in two of the halls.  We are well, though tired.

During the evening, we spoke with members of an intergenerational group who is visiting here.  They are studying sustainable communities, had just come from one in Portugal and will travel to Findhorn next.  I introduced myself as Lyneah; Will, one of the travellers, thought I was someone coming who had sponsored their group's activities.  Interesting.  Never heard of the name before and here someone was coming the next day by that name.  Yet another unusual end to what is shaping up as a most unusual journey.

Damanhur has its own money.  If you aren't a rare coin collector, you might want to check your money before you go and exchange Damhurian coins for Euros.


Day 4 - Damanhur Temple Tour

Damanhur is an intentional community started in the mid-to-late '70s by a group researching spiritual concepts in Torino. One person donated some land and they began exploring community living.  One night there was a shooting star and they decided they could start some project.  They built underground temples that are amazing.  Mostly the work was started in secret even from those in the community who were not central and trusted.  Eventually some who left told the officials of the town that evil things were happening there.  A judge came with police demanding entrance and Falco the leader invited them in.  Upon leaving the Judge had tears in his eyes and condoned the project.  They are now a community of multiple centers totaling 600 members.  We stayed in the welcoming center building at a cost of 22 E for the night in a dorm style floor complete with kitchen.  It was occupied by a group of people working something through. We mentioned them earlier - the ones on the intergenerational quest.

In the morning we went on a full grounds tour and then up to the community store / gallery / research facility, which carries wonderful organic foods and artwork.  There was a town meeting but we didn't feel like being in a crowd and skipped it.  It also cost 20 E.  Everything here costs 10 E or more.  They treat 20 E like we treat  $10 and its value is more like $30.  They had a great sorbetto; la dolce vita is alive and well here.

Our guide spoke with his hands -  of course, he was Italian -  and named Platypus.  We went first into the Temple of the Earth.  The temples are mosaic floors with many meanings and a central pillar decorated or sculpted and the ceilings are painted glass and the walls are amazing murals with realistic paintings of each person who is a member of the community included.  The whole room is a representation of the third dimension of manifestation.  Instruments were played while we sat on pillows meditating.  Up the stairs was a room of the pre-manifestation – spiritual realm.  It is also very complex and amazingly well done and artistic.  The third room we experienced was dedicated to metals and the ages of mankind with a metal for each age.  Very interesting.  Again the faces were of real people in the community and by their pictures in two cases quite accurate.  One window bay contained the ashes of one of the founders who posed for the image of the silver age. 

That was all we could do in the time we had – there are eight other underground chambers in addition to the three we were able to visit.  We left Damanhur and the roads through the rest of Italy - well, they are so what you hear about them.  Amazingly narrow.  People drive like they are possessed, especially if they are on motorcycles, which as we mentioned earlier, have the right to do almost anything, it seems.

Interestingly, given the frenzy on the roads, we saw almost no police throughout the countryside of France and Italy.  Only in the cities. We did see a few police in Zermatt, but they were just standing the the middle of the street talking.  Didn't seem concerned about anything.  Mark is driving like a European, but a polite one.  People are often surprised at his generosity of letting them in or stopping for pedestrians in crosswalks in cities.  I drove a bit on the Autostrada in Italy, but was glad for Mark's skills on the lesser roads, some of which are main roads, but wow, they are narrow and without shoulders! 

Mark commented that the US is in adolescence or maybe young adulthood, Europe is mature and Italy is in old age.  He may be correct.

My ankle was giving me major grief today probably due to the eating of  brie and fantastic Swiss bread in Zermatt yesterday morning not to mention the outstanding boysenberry gelatto here today.  I will be good the rest of the trip avoid milk products.  It's so hard here because they are sooooo good.   

Our welcome here in Cagnes-sur-Mer (about 10 km west of Nice) was also interesting.  Communications problems again and our hostess didn't think we were coming, but accommodated us so sweetly.  She is a wonderful woman.  We are ready for sleep.  Goodnight.

Question and Mediteranean at Cagnes sur Mer

I was asked if people in Europe use deodorant now and if women shaved their underarms.  Ten years ago Paris was very different than now.  I did not notice any women at the beaches or in town with underarm hair.  I only noticed body odor strongly once and that was on the bus from Orly to Paris. The man did not look Parisian.  He looked like an immigrant from an Arabic country.  There are many more immigrants in Paris now than there were 10 years ago and they are from many countries.  Many African countries, Morocco, Slavic countries, Arabic countries.  A much wider diversity than the last time I was there.  But that's true here too, we now have everything in Spanish as well as English and in Mexico they are having to use English in parts because of the large influx of US retirees.  This is true in Panama and Costa Rica as well.  The world is more international these days.  Watching the US Open Wozniacki from Denmark is in the finals!

What you might find surprising is the comfort level with women lying on the beaches face up with no tops on (sorry no pictures). Tops are optional on most of the beaches we saw and we've heard of the nude beaches, but we didn't see one.  Women face down on the beach with no top on is fairly frequent.   I suppose to get a line free tan  They sit up quite unselfconsciously, put on their tops and go into the water.  We also saw women  face up with no tops on.  No big deal was made of it.  People in Europe and California are more comfortable with the naked body.

You'll have to guess if I have my top on here or not :)  Actually for me, I don't object to having the option, but I personally don't want sunburn anywhere, especially in sensitive places.   The water has much more salt content than the Atlantic and it's much easier to float in except Mark, he has no body fat and just doesn't seem to float anywhere so far.  We had a glorious day at the beach at Cagnes-sur-Mer. 

Arles to Saintes-Maries de la Mer

The Romans were here.

Old city street in Arles.

The drive from Arles to Saintes-Maries de la Mer (SMM) was beautiful, passing through the Camargue, France's equivalent to the Everglades (including flamingoes!), with the Mediterranean visible a good bit of the way.  As we got closer to SMM we found numerous horse ranches offering holiday riding. Barbel tells us this is the place to take your children on Holiday to teach them to ride horses.  Many horse ranches along the road and many parties of horse riders going off on trails getting their last rides in before the end of Holiday the end of August.

For some reason, we expected SMM to be a fairly deserted fishing town.  I don’t know why.  What we found instead was another crowded Miami Beach type of place.  Passing through the town square with its bocci courts (very prevalent through the region), we reached the local cathedral, passing many Gypsies along the way, who were offering medallions and other trinkets.

Church at San Maries de la Mer

Inside the church all the pictures came out wierd.  Granted, it was dark, but so were other places we were at and they didn't turn out like these.

By history and tradition, SMM is where Mother Mary, Mary Magdalene and their company landed after their journey across the Mediterranean, and is also one of the main gathering places for the various Gypsy tribes.  There are horses and gypsy and bullfighting influences everywhere.  Many gypsies outside the church.  Watch out for them energetically and well as physically.  They try to give you a medal, "It's tradition....".  In the book The Witch of Portabello, by Paulo Coelho (which I happened to pick up at the airport to read) they talk about the patron saint of the gypsies as being St. Sarah.  She has not been canonized by the Catholic Church so her image is kept in a crypt outside the church (built in the 9th 10th and 11th Centuries).  At festival time, when especially the gypsies come to pay respects to St. Sarah, her statue leads the procession.  St. Sarah is believed to have met Mary Malone, a cousin of Jesus, when she arrived at SMM  escaping Roman persecution.  Sarah-la-Kali was of noble lineage.  The procession reenacts the meeting at the sea and is followed by celebration, song and bull runnings. (Seriously – there are street signs warning about 'Taurean Events'!)  We were not present for festival, just for the end-of-summer throngs.

 

Behind Door number one........a real Water Closet.

Finally, we headed to Carcassonne,  arriving at the Abbey where we were supposed to have reservations.  The Abbey was ancient and smelled of mold - at least in the hallways.  We never made it to seeing the rooms as there was again a misunderstanding about the dates and they had us down for the next day.   It was a good experience, though, as the gardens in the center of the building were lovely.  Since there was no room at the inn (so to speak), we went off and found a modern, moderately priced and comfortable hotel nearby, with a unique room design: the room had two doors that you would assume would each lead to a closet.  Instead one was the molded WC and the other was a molded shower.

A long and beautiful day.  Time for a good night's sleep.

Unexpected Photo Show

In the Cathedral at Arles, there was a photography art show.