Home Again

Sheila and I have returned home after a fantastic trip. We saw all of the sights, ate great food, and shopped a little too much. I'm sure you'll all get to hear the full story and see the photos in person at some point, but I thought I'd feature a few of the highlights here.

As I mentioned in a pre-trip post, I arranged a visit to the shop of Maître Jacques Castinet, a fencing antiques dealer. On the 7th we met him near the Porte d'Orléans metro station and he drove us to his little shop in a suburb of Paris. He speaks very little English, and my French is equally limited, but we got along just fine.

The shop is amazing, not huge mind you, but stacked to the rafters with old weapons, masks, books, prints, paintings, sculptures, and pretty much anything else having anything to do with fencing. I was in heaven! I easily could have spent a week there drooling over all of it.

In the end it took me about an hour of browsing, and hemming and hawing before I decided on a 19th century dueling sabre, and a matched set of 19th century lunette foils for myself, and an additional lunette foil for a friend at my fencing club. I won't tell you how much I spent - more than I had planned, but I don't regret a Euro-cent of it. The Maître also threw in a couple of posters and magazines, as well as a bottle of Maestro - Parfum De L'Escrime (I kid you not) that Sheila and I had been chuckling about. In thanks for his hospitality I had brought along a set of Canadian Fencing Federation, and Alberta Fencing Association patches to add to his collection. It was a delightful time.


A few days later we popped up to the conjoined towns of Valenciennes and Saint-Saulve, where my Mother's Father's Mother was born. We spent a day and a half wandering around the towns, looking for traces of the family's history there, aided by some vague directions from a Great-Uncle, and a copy of that portion of the family tree. Unfortunately that branch is missing a lot of information, as my Dad only had the memories of a few family members to go on when piecing it together. Much of the family scattered during WWII, and for one reason or another, the various siblings and cousins didn't manage to stay in touch.

I didn't expect to uncover any great secrets or missing links. Mostly I wanted to see the town where that eighth of me is from. To walk the same streets, see the canal, the houses, and the church where my great, and great-great grandparents lived their lives.

We did find some traces. In the cemetery we found the graves of my Great-Great Grandparents, as well as a Great-Great Uncle, and a number of other individuals who had the same family names, but who's place on the family tree remains a mystery.

We discovered a fresh pot of geraniums on my Great-Great Grandparents grave. Some living local relative still thinks of them. We got our hands on a copy of the phone directory and took down all of the addresses of individuals in the area bearing the family name. The plan is to send out letters with copies of the family tree to all of them, asking if they are related, and if they can fill in some of the blanks.

The rest of the trip was terrific too. I got to show Sheila some of my favourite places, as well as explore new ones with her. We spent a lot of time poking around Île de la Cité and Île Saint-Louis. Hôtel des Invalides was another highlight, housing several terrific museums, Napoleon's tomb, and the most impressive collection of cannon I have ever seen. Sheila's favourite spot was Mont-Saint-Michel, which I'll agree was spectacular, and I'd happily visit it again.

Anyway, like I said, you'll all get to see all of the photos eventually. Maybe we'll even play you our La Vie En Rose music box. You might call it a tacky souvenir, but Edith Piaf and I know a classic when we hear it =D

Santé!

Elections & Laundry

Well, a few moments ago the ringing of church bells and the round of cheers from down the street alerted us to the fact that the French election has just been won. I don't really care, except for the possibilty that in this country where people strike at the drop of a hat, some people may choose to make life awkward tomorrow in protest of the winner. We shall see.

In other news, we've spent the last two evenings doing laundry in our hotel room bath tub. There doesn't seem to be a self-serve laundry mat in the immediate area, so we bought some suds and improvised. I just pulled my socks in from the window rail, as the wind had picked up =D

The weather has cooled slightly, but it is still pleasant out. We spent today wandering around central Paris, and stopped for lunch at The Beaver, a Canadian bar. The burger and fries cured any home sickness we had for a bit.

Anyway, we're still having a fabulous time, and can't believe we're already halfway through our trip!

Now to go rinse and hang the next load.

Hugs to all.

Paris

Well we are here and it is fabulous. We've spent the past 4 days in museums, cathedrals, parks, cafes, and the metro. I could be happier, but not by much, and I don't think the time in prison would be worth it =D

This morning we leave the creamy glow of Paris behind, and exchange it for the creamy cheeses of Normandy. This afternoon we'll see the Bayeux Tapestry, and I'll have some cidre. Then tomorrow we do the tour of Canadian 2nd World War sights (Juno Beach, etc.) and I will have some more cidre.

To those of you who have already been here, come back. You know you miss it, but you don't realise how much until you catch the first glimps from the plane of the French countryside rolling out to the horizon. And if you've never been, all I can offer you is my pity.

I've got a lot of friends who have given in to wanderlust this spring. There's Andrew in Hong Kong, Andrew and Colleen in Greece, Keri and Hayes in Turkey, Gillian heading to San Francisco, and Jena off to Africa or Italy a little later. I wish all of you safe travel, and when I have my cidre this evening I will drink my favourite toast for you:

To friends at home, and friends abroad.

See you all again soon.

Summer Camp

Well, the days are flying off the little page-a-day calendar in my head as the big trip approaches. I'm still finding it hard to believe that in less than two weeks I'll be strolling down the Rue De Rivoli with my darling wife. Tonight I plan to go through some of my favourite photo books of France to get myself all excited. I also need to organise my shopping list. Thus far, it consists of:

• Medieval-style spiced wine from Provins
• Cidre from Normandy
• A CD or two of traditional music from Normandy
• Antique fencing weapons from Maitre Jacques Castinet
• Fencing odds and sods from the Prieur store
• Something cool from the Louvre Gift Shop
• Something goofy from the Parc Asterix Gift Shop

I'll admit, I'm a shopper when I go on vacation. I like to buy myself things I can't get at home. I try to stay away from most of the tacky souvenirs (although I do own a miniature Eiffel Tower from my first trip over). Mostly I look for stuff that will evoke the place for me once I get home. There's the Laguiole pocket knife, bought last time I went, that I carry everywhere with me. A fair amount of fencing gear has come home with me from the Prieur store, and kept me happily armed and dressed on the piste. Then there's the CD of medieval music I picked up my first time over, on a day it happened to rain. The liner notes in the CD got wet, and warped and puckered as a result. It reminds me of rainy Paris every time I open the case.

As much as I like shopping, I think my first delight in travel is sending postcards. I'm hoping to wrap up my list of postcard recipients in the next few days. If past trips are any indication, a significant amount of my spending money will be used on cards and stamps. I've promised to do my best to find fencing specific postcards or stamps for my friends at the club, except for the one or two who will receive cards with naughty photos on them. Can't say I don't know some interesting people!

If I haven't already offered, and you know me well enough to have my email address, drop me a line and I'll send you a postcard too. Please specify if you prefer naughty or not ;D

On a completely different subject, in case any of you are wondering, my parents have made an offer, which has been accepted, on a house in Nova Scotia. They will be listing their Calgary home shortly, and my sister will also list her apartment.

Did you ever have that dream as a kid, where you went away to summer camp, and returned home to find your family had moved away without you?

See you all when I get back, I think. . .

I'm feeling a little hypocritical this afternoon. Whenever I get on the computer I check all of my friends' blogs to see what is new, and when someone doesn't post for a while I feel like they're neglecting their duty to keep me entertained. And here am I; haven't posted in almost a month.

It's been a hell of a month, a lot going on around me that I could report, but I don't know what to say about a lot of it.

Back on Saint Paddy's Day Sheila and I attended a function hosted by a couple of friends who are in the midst of emotionally trying times. I won't go into detail, that's their business. The end result for one will be the opportunity for the complete reinvention of self. Hopefully they both get that opportunity in the end. I wish love and happiness for both of them.

We returned home from the party to two serious-sounding phone messages, and on returning the calls, learned that Sheila's Grandmother had passed away. Her Mom hopped the next flight to Denmark to deal with all of the things that need doing under these circumstances. She gets back Thursday, and we'll all be glad to have her home again.

Last week Sheila and I pet and house sat for my parents while they went on a little trip. Most of you know my folks have always wanted to move to Vancouver Island, so you'll understand why I was a tad shocked when they announced they were taking a trip to Nova Scotia to go house-hunting. We had dinner with them last night, and after hearing the full report of the trip, I'd say it's about an 80% probability they'll go. If they do go, it seems my sister will likely go to. All I can say is that's a hell of a long way away.

Our manager at the bookstore continues to look for new digs. I'm completely in favour of a move, but I get the feeling I'll be hauling a lot of heavy furniture this summer.

Our trip to France looms closer, and I think I'm a few days away from starting to panic. It doesn't quite seem real yet, even though we're booking the last few hotels. I'm nervous because I had hoped to have a little more French under my belt before we went. As a matter of fact, I should be practicing with the software right now. I know it'll be fun and great when we get there, but it gives me the willies just at the moment.

Through all of this I've been distracting myself by planning our backyard railway. I've ordered a half-dozen books about layout planning and operation, and have been tinkering with track plans whenever I get five minutes. There are still a lot of decisions to be made, but the nice thing is, it's a hobby, and none of those decisions will have any great impact on our lives if we choose one way or another. If we make up our minds, and break our backs, and luck is on our side, we might get track laid by the end of the summer.

All this other craziness can wait; I want to run my trains.

Little Red Caboose

Over the past couple of weeks Sheila and I have been rethinking our plans for the back yard.

The original idea was to do patio stones on one half, and put in a petanque pitch on the other half. When building our fence last summer we cut out half of our parking pad to extend the usable area of the yard to allow for the length needed for the pitch. Petanque is a fabulous game, suitable for an evening's entertainment with friends, over wine or pastis. We thought it would be lots of fun, and require very little maintenance.

It is the joy and curse of a new home, that you start with a completely blank slate. Your starting point consists of property lines and a few bylaws. The rest is up to your hopes, dreams and whatever labour you can squeeze out of your friends and family in exchange for beer and burgers. This summer represents year two, in what we hope will be a three year building schedule for the yard. The beginning of phase two allowed for a re-examination of our plans.

I'm a life long train nut. My first train was a Lego passenger set I got when I was four. I still have it, and have purchased a load more Lego train items over the past few years. The problem is, even in our new house, I have no where to set up the darned things in any state of permanence. I've been mildly bummed about this. We have a great basement which will eventually be a great workshop. We have two spare bedrooms, one of which is the library/office, and the other where I keep my fencing gear and odds and ends. I could put a train in there, but we do plan to have a kid someday, and I'll lose the room then.

A couple of Mondays a go I was running some errands, and my route took me past one of the model train shops in town. I went in to do a bit of window shopping. Over dinner that evening I told Sheila I'd been rethinking the petanque pitch, and asked her what she thought of doing a garden railway instead. It wasn't the first time the possibility had come up, but it was the first time I took it seriously. Whenever Sheila and I want to know anything about anything, the first thing we do is order a book (I do work in a bookstore after all). The book came, we did some reading, did some talking, and came to a decision.

Yesterday we drove down to another model train shop, and bought ourselves a little red caboose, and one length of track for it to sit on. I figured it would be a good place to start, to give us something visual to refer to while we plan our railway. I'm pleased as punch just looking at it sitting on the table. It has doors that open, and operating interior and exterior lights. You can even replace the chimney on it with one that produces smoke.

It isn't a railroad empire yet, but for the moment I can count myself as equal to the mayors of every small town in Alberta. After all, every small town in Alberta has a caboose sitting on a piece of track, right?

Things to do Before I Die

The "To do/see before you die" theme has featured largely in many books published over the past few years, not to mention several recent commercials. Up till now I haven't bothered putting a list like that together, although I think a few of my friends and family have.

But this year, I turn 30. Now don't get me wrong, I'm actually fairly comfortable with that fact, probably because I've spent the past few years getting used to the idea, and because I'm content with where I am in my life at this point. It doesn't hurt that have a few friends who are over 30, but are still adventurous, fun loving, and youthful. The view from this side doesn't look all that bad.

I do still plan to mark the occasion. A few years ago I promised myself I'd go back to France in celebration of the big 3-0, and most of you know that Sheila and I are heading over this spring. Sheila is also planning a surprise for the actual weekend of my birthday ( no, I haven't been snooping, she's told me this much).

But the round number has reminded me that time passes, and if you don't make plans, things often go undone. Thus, I've started making my list of things I'd like to do before I'm too old, infirm, or dead to do them. In no particular order . . .

Get DNA genealogy tests done. My Dad has done an amazing job tracing our family's history back quite a ways. It's cool to know where all of my various ancestors lived, but of course, the records only go back so far. There are a few places offering to take samples of your DNA and tell you what geographical areas your genes are associated with. National Geographic even offered a kit for a while, but if I remember correctly, it only did mitochondrial DNA, so it gave you a purely matrilineal picture of your family history.

This is something I'd really like to have done, to get that bigger picture of where my blood fits into the amazing path of human migration and cross-cultural interaction over the millennia. I'm inclined to wait until the price comes down, and the depth of investigation improves. Maybe I'll ask for this for my 40th birthday.

Visit the places my ancestors lived. In the mean time I do know where most of my great-grandparents are from, and some even farther back than that. This spring's trip to France will allow me to tick the first destination off of this sub list. Sheila and I will be doing a side trip up near the Belgian border, to the little town of Saint Saulve. This is where my Mother's Father's Mother was born. I've been given some information about former family homes by one of my great-uncles, so we'll spend a few days getting to know the area, drinking in the local estaminets, and searching the cemeteries for the family name.

Live in France for a year. This will be my third trip to France, and since my first trip, I've known that the country is important to me. Every time I come home, I know I'll need to go back to keep myself happy. As corny as it sounds, part of me stays there . This is why for the past 7 years, I've carried an unused ticket for the Paris Metro in my wallet. A little memento, promising me I'll go back.

I feel that to really get to know a place, you'd need to see it through all of its seasons. France is worth getting to know. So someday, probably after whatever kids we have are grown, I'd like to spend a year there. I'm not sure at this stage if I'd want to spend it in Paris, or out in a smaller town, but wherever it is, remember, you're all invited to visit.

Go on pilgrimage. Despite the fact I consider myself devoutly agnostic, I've always been fascinated by the idea of pilgrimage. Mostly I think I like the idea spending a few weeks on foot, following a path that thousands of others have walked, over hundreds of years, to get somewhere special. I haven't decided which route or destination I'd choose. Maybe Santiago de Compostela in Spain, or maybe the Via Apia into Rome. I'd just like to see the cities and the countryside, move at that slow pace, and experience the landscape and elements the way others did hundreds of years before.

Get my motorcycle license, and own a Vespa.
I've had a bit of a thing for motorcycles since highschool, although I've never done much about it, mostly cause my Mom would flip out. Originally I wanted a Harley, but softened to sports-bikes over the years, and after trying out a friends scooter a while back, decided a Vespa would suit me the best. I know you can get a little 50cc that you don't need a license for, but if I was to get a scooter, I'd want one with enough power to carry two people, and do a bit of highway touring. Such a bike would necessitate the motorcycle license, which I'd say is a worthwhile accomplishment on its own. This is the Vespa I've got my eye on.

Hop a freight train. Before anyone freaks out at me about this one, let me just say, it'll probably never happen. I know how ridiculously dangerous it would be to attempt to board a moving freight train, and since they lock box cars these days, where would I ride anyway? This one makes it onto the list only because it's something I've always thought would be a grand adventure, and I will probably always think so. I mean, hoboing one's way across the country is part of every North American's collective history. There are people who still do it out of necessity, and a few who do it for fun.

While I might not ever hop a train, don't be surprised if you see me hanging around by the railyards, or scratching hobo signs into track-side fence posts.

Six items, I guess it's a start, and I know I'll add to it.

So tell me folks, what tops your lists?