Ahhh, Monahhhco

Days 8-13
The second week of our trip was spent in Monaco, one of the most pleasant and least stressful places on the planet. And boy did we need it! We stayed at a fantastic hotel, the Meridien Beach Plaza with rooms overlooking the Riviera.





We spent hours and hours lounging by the beach, drinking absurdly expensive cocktails and relaxing. The water was a little chilly when we first got to Monaco, but throughout the week, it warmed up considerably.









One of the days, we went out on a boat and Avery and Caroline were pulled behind in inner tubes. It was pretty surreal to be driven around the Mediterranean with my daughter dangling from the back! She loved it, though. I don't think she or Linah stopped laughing the entire time.





We also spent lots of time walking around exploring the sites and enjoying Monaco's incredible scenery.











And it seemed that everywhere we turned, we came across another outdoor art installation.








I really can't say too much about how wonderful Monaco is. It's beautiful, the people are friendly and polite, and the food is fantastic. Our week there passed so peacefully...we were so sorry to have to leave!

The road to Nice

Day 8
So...the new, improved plan was to leave Avignon in the morning, drive to Nice, drop off the God-forsaken rental car, and hop on a train to make the short trip to Monaco. The first part went fine: we got up, loaded the car, and took off. The second part went fine too: the drive to Nice was easy and uneventful and pretty. Besides the fact that we had another mosquito trapped in the car with us, things were ok. So far, so good.



The third part is where things started to go awry. We got lost again. Well, we managed to find the Avis Rental Car place at the airport, but since it was Sunday, they were closed and unable to help us. We used our directions, our map, made phone calls to Avis in the States, calls to Bill, and help from police officers and gas station attendants. Hours ticked by, and our limited window of time to make it to Avis before closing time was melting away. Stress levels reached all time highs.

Finally, just ten minutes before closing time, we managed to find the train station and the Avis right next door. The system for returning a rental car was this: drive the car up to the very top floor of the parking garage, leave the car, carry down all the luggage down many flights of stairs, and cross the street to the Avis office. The parking garage, like everything in France, was an exceptionally tight squeeze. The ramp was more like a spiral staircase than a ramp. I've mentioned before about the poor turning radius of the Citroen, but I think I failed to mention that malfunctioning clutch. The parking garage was the last hurrah for that dying clutch. By the time we got to the top floor and parked, smoke was pouring out of the car. As luck would have it, the car behind us as we drove up the garage was an Avis attendant, and he was quick to blame us for the faulty car. We ignored his chides as we unloaded the car.

We dragged our luggage, backpacks, purses, and now two cases of wine down countless flights of stairs. By this point, the wheels on Avery's suitcase had broken off and it too had to be carried. Something had to give. Thanks to us, it was someone's lucky day. We just couldn't carry it all anymore, so we ended up leaving an entire case of wine on the sidewalk by the train station. The wasted money wasn't more than a fleeting thought. By that point we were so tired, frustrated, and just plain mad that we didn't care one bit.

It was no surprise that the Avis guy was a real jerk down in the office, but we turned in the keys and left with nothing more than his admonishment. We were so thrilled to be rid of the car, we could have danced a jig in his stupid office.

At the train station, we bought our tickets and proceeded toward the platform. It, of course, could only be reached by going down, then up, more stairs. It was only the desperation to get on the train that gave us the strength to carry those four heavy suitcases down and up those stairs.

Once we arrived in Monaco, we felt like our luck had changed. Unfortunately, we weren't quite finished with our bad luck spell. It seems that the place where we exited the train station didn't have taxi service. (We didn't know that there was more than one exit until days later.) All we knew was that no matter how long we stood there, no taxi would stop for us. We walked several blocks, but no luck. We finally stopped a police man, who informed us that taxis in Monaco don't stop if you try to wave them down. You must call them, and preferably from a taxi stand. Well, since we weren't close to one of the TWO taxi stands in the whole country, we decided we'd have to try calling them to come pick us up. First, we tried calling our hotel and asking if they'd call a taxi to pick us up. "That's impossible!" is what we were told by the concierge with the thick French accent. "Impossible??" we said. "Yes!" he said. "We only call taxis to come here. We can't send a taxi to you!"

Our next step was to go into a bar across the street and see if they'd call us a cab. Well, they couldn't, but they did give us the number to a cab company. But, when we called, I got a recording that said that all the taxis in Monaco were in use and to try back later.

It began to look like we would just have to sleep on the street corner. But we kept trying, and eventually, a couple of hours after getting off the train, we managed to get a taxi to pick us up.

We finally got to the hotel, and we felt like truly, things were going to improve. Our hotel was fabulous, and we decided we might never leave again.

Avignon

Day 7
Day 7 was another road trip day. We checked out of Chateau de Rochecotte bright and early to make the long drive to Avignon. We managed not to get lost this time, but thanks to the new map we purchased, we mistakenly chose the "scenic route". The scenery was definitely beautiful, but it took us the entire day to get there. It's too bad that we were concerned about meeting the person that was to let us into our apartment, because we didn't get to enjoy the sights like we could have. The roads we took passed through town after town, with gorgeous mountains and cliffs running alongside the roads. I've never seen anything like it. Unfortunately I didn't take any pictures, and my description can never do it justice.

We did arrive in Avignon a little late, but someone was still there to meet us. She let us in to the apartment and took us on a tour. The apartment was lovely and had a gorgeous patio.



The apartment manager was an ex-pat, who had moved to Avignon with her husband about 10 years ago. She was really sweet and tried to make us feel really at home, despite the fact that she alluded to her dislike of Avignon several times in our conversation. She also warned us of mosquitos at night, and suggested that we keep our windows closed. We scoffed. "We're from Texas," we said. "We know mosquitos."

After she left and we dragged our luggage up the stairs, Mamar and I left to find a parking spot. Avignon is a village that dates back to medieval times and has the city walls and architecture to prove it. The streets are lined with old buildings and barely wide enough for cars to pass. Intersections are at right angles, and Mamar had a heck of a time making turns, since our Citroen had the turning radius of a bus. We drove around for quite some time before we decided that it was worth the 10 Euros/day to park in the urine-scented parking garage downtown.

On our trip back to the apartment, we saw some of the sights of Avignon. It was not exactly what we had in mind.



The city was dirty. Full of graffiti. The streets seemed dangerous, and Avery and Caroline were nervous to be out. After exploring a little more, we returned to our apartment, feeling discouraged. We ate some dinner and tried to relax. It was hot, probably in the low 90s. There was no air conditioning in our apartment, so we left the windows open to get the breeze. We learned that the mosquitoes in France are not the same as the mosquitoes in Texas. They found me particularly tasty, and over the course of the next 24 hours, I managed to get 36 mosquito bites. (Linah counted them for me.) They were excruciating mosquito bites; far more painful and exponentially larger than bites left by our friendly Texas mosquitoes. I had them all over my arms, chest, back, and my favorite: my forehead. They took over a week to heal, so for the rest of the trip, I had huge welts on my face.

This was the last straw. After about 30 seconds of discussion, during which I scratched incessantly and Avery and Linah swore they'd never leave the apartment again, we decided to abandon the armpit that is Avignon. Mamar got on the phone with Expedia and made arrangements for us to go early to Monaco, cost be damned. We hastily packed our bags, slept for a few hours, then hit the road first thing in the morning.

The Loire Valley

Day 5
After the stress of the previous day, our first day in the Loire Valley was very low key. We stayed in a gorgeous chateau (even though its emptiness made it a bit reminiscent of the hotel in The Shining), Chateau de Rochecotte (known to us as Roach-Coat). Besides going down to the restaurant for a fantastic multi-course meal, we spent most of the day reading, relaxing, and lounging by the pool.











Day 6
The next day we woke up feeling mostly recovered from our adventures, and we decided to explore a bit of the Loire Valley. We left the chateau in Langeais and headed for the small town of Saumur. Surprisingly, we made it there easily and within a reasonable amount of time. We drove around the town for a bit, then we stopped at a gas station, where we meet some really nice women that led us to a winery for a tasting. We got to sample lots of wonderful Louis de Grenelle sparkling wines, and we ended up buying two cases and some yummy grape juice too.

After the winery, we went to the Saumur Castle. It was so beautiful...at least from the outside. Avery and I had a little skirmish that escalated, and ended up with us both sitting outside in the grass while Mamar and Linah toured the castle. (Lots of stress + screwy sleep + surviving on refined carbs and caffiene = bad.) By the time they finished the tour, Avery and I had recovered, and were ready to make the trip back to the chateau -- for more reading and lounging.

From Paris to the Loire Valley

Day 4
If Day 3 was peaceful, gorgeous, and wonderful, Day 4 stands as a stark contrast. At best, it was a comedy of errors. It all started with us packing up to leave Paris. We managed to get a cab that we could all fit in, but with a cab driver that could speak far less English than he claimed and who wasn't all that concerned that the place he dropped us didn't look like an Avis Rental Car site. In fact, he had dropped us off at 15 Rue Lourmel...when our true destination was 105 Rue Lourmel. We discovered this, standing on the street corner surrounded by all of our luggage, as he peeled off down the street.

I really wish I could have gotten a picture of this. You'll just have to imagine it, because I really wasn't in the condition to get out my camera. Picture the four of us, on a busy Parisian street (but of course one that taxis and buses don't routinely go down), each with a huge wheeled suitcase, backpacks, purses, and camera bags. Picture us weighed down like pack mules as we weave around cars, on and off sidewalks, across crosswalks, past schools and businesses. Picture us dressed for a day of sightseeing, hair and make up done, clothes just so. Picture us dripping with sweat as we make the hour long trek, all the while alternating between laughing hysterically and bickering, melting under the weight of our loads.

Imagine the impression we made on the poor Avis guy, when we finally arrived there, and collapsed on the pavement outside his office, surrounded by our mountain of luggage. Imagine his face when he saw all the luggage we expected to put into a tiny hatchback Citroen.

By a miracle of French engineering, we did manage to get our entire load and all four of us inside the Citroen. Whew, we thought. Our day can only get better. And, for a while, it did. We drove from Paris to Versailles without incident. We parked easily, and we got into the tremendous entrance line. We waited, bought our tickets, then waited in an equally tremendous line for the restrooms, then waited some more for a table so we could eat lunch. (We had more than worked off our breakfast of croissants and diet cokes at this point.) We ate a very nice lunch and regrouped from the morning's adventures.

We realized that we had been at Versailles for almost three hours by then and had yet to see anything beyond the inside of the restaurant and the restrooms. After waiting just once more for the restroom (can I ask why a place that gets so many visitors each year has so few bathrooms?!), we started exploring the palace. The grounds were just beautiful, and well worth the wait.







And the palace itself was not too shabby either!





We did an audiotour inside. Caroline was enthralled!









After a few hours, we decided we should hit the road before dark. We were planning to make the trip from Versailles to our chateau in the Loire Valley in about three short hours. Ha.

Leaving Versailles proved to be far more difficult than we had imagined. We had no GPS (Mamar's iPhone wasn't working), and we hadn't bought a map. We were relying on directions from googlemaps, and we all know how that works out sometimes. We had very specific directions about how to leave the city, and no matter how many attempts we made, we couldn't find any of the right streets! (It didn't help that the French don't believe in street signs. They do put placards on the sides of corner buildings that indicate the street...sometimes. Most of the time, it seems to be left up to guesswork.) In the end, we decided to call Bill. He's often my solution at home when I need directional help. I call from wherever I am, he looks it up on the computer, and he can help me find my destination. I thought the same thing could apply here. Only it's hard for someone to help you when you can't tell them what street you're on. Long story (and LOTS of international cell phone minutes later), we finally found the highway leading towards the Loire Valley. Right at rush hour.

Unfortunately that wasn't the end of being lost. We made up some time on the highway, and after stopping at a gas station for (you guessed it) croissants and diet coke (and some produce lest we develop a vitamin deficiency), we made it to our exit. We navigated the roundabout and thought we were just a few short minutes from nice, warm beds -- and all this before dark! But, alas, we were wrong. Many, many miles through multiple apparent ghost towns and many, many more cell phone minutes used (Bill says those calls are "legendary" at his office...niiiice.), we finally come to a sign that indicates our chateau is just a couple of miles away! As we wind along those last dark, desolate miles, I glanced over and noticed the gas gauge alight. "Um, Mom," I said. "It looks like we might need some gas." Her response? "Oh, that. Yeah, that's been on a while." Panic! I had visions of us on the side of the road, no gas stations for miles, and no people anywhere to rescue us.

Thankfully, none of that happened, and we did make it to our chateau...just 8 hours after leaving Versailles.

Giverny

Day 3
We woke up bright and early on day 3, ready to venture out of Paris for the day. After a breakfast of (yep) croissants and diet coke, we hit the streets, heading for the Metro station.

After some confusion and some conversations in a combination of broken French and English, we managed to purchase tickets to Giverny, home of Claude Monet. This outing was the one that Avery was most excited about, and the other three of us were mostly just along for the ride. I mean, I like Monet as much as the next guy, but Impressionism has never been my favorite artistic period. I couldn't imagine what Monet's home and gardens could have to offer and really wasn't sure that it was worth spending one entire day to explore it. Boy, was I wrong!

First, armed with Starbucks drinks, we hopped on a train at the Gare St. Lazare station, the same one made famous by Monet himself.





We got of the train in Vernon then hopped on a bus that dropped us off in Giverny. The bus stop was directly across from a gorgeous field of poppies, just like the ones found in Monet's paintings.









We made the short walk through the village of Giverny, admiring the adorable cobblestone streets and little cottages.



However pretty the village was, we weren't prepared for the breathtaking beauty of Monet's home and gardens. How could anyone not be inspired to paint if they live in a place with such amazing color!





The gardens meander over acres and acres, with paths winding through hundreds of varieties of flowers...and, of course, the water lily ponds and Japanese bridges.





All in all...pretty incredible.

More Parisian adventures

Day 2
The next morning, we woke up feeling a little tired but much better. We were so excited to start our day exploring the city! After a breakfast of (you guessed it) croissants, we hit the city. First up: The Louvre.

The Louvre was in walking distance from our hotel, so we started our morning headed in that direction. We strolled through the Tuileries, sipping Italian ice (and desperately looking for a bathroom).



We admired the beautiful statuary:





And the gorgeous architecture:





And, eventually, we made it to the Louvre:



We spent most of the day wandering the halls of the Louvre. Wow. It was incredible.



After the Louvre, we were wiped out. Still recovering from jet lag, we returned to our hotel for a little more rest -- but not before stopping to stock up on more croissants and diet coke!

First stop: Paris

Ok, two months after we returned from out European vacation, I think it's time to blog about it! I think time probably smoothed out some of the wrinkles in the trip, but I'll share as many highlights as I remember.

Day 1
Our flight to Paris was uneventful, although it was questionable whether or not we'd all make the plane. Avery and I drove to Mamar's house to pick up Mamar and Caroline. Despite the fact that most of Linah's clothing was in the washing machine and NOT her suitcase when we arrived, we managed to get her all packed and ready to go just in time to leave. We made it to the airport and parked, but at check in, Mamar realized that she forgot her wallet! Hard to travel across the globe without any money or credit cards. I quickly gave her the keys, and she raced home to get her wallet. Meanwhile, Avery, Linah, and I had lunch and boarded the plane. We were thrilled when Mamar breathlessly appeared on the plane, right before the door closed. Whew!

We flew to Chicago, had a brief layover, then boarded the plane to Paris. We left in the late afternoon and would arrive in Paris at around 9:25am, which was 2:25am to us. Mamar and Linah were smart enough to take something to help them sleep, but Avery and I were up all night. We watched countless hours of in flight movies, read, and listened to our iPods. Not long before landing, we finally fell asleep.

Once in Paris, it took a couple of tries to find a cab to fit all of our luggage. (We may have all packed a little heavily.) We went to our hotel, where we were able to check in early. Our hotel, Hotel Richepanse (or Hotel Richie-pants as we lovingly called it), was in a great area near the Opera.



We dumped off our stuff, changed clothes, and went out to explore a little and find some lunch. This proved to be more of a challenge than we expected, since the French pretty much roll up the sidewalks on Sundays. Very few restaurants and almost no stores were open. But we did manage to find a restaurant not too far from our hotel. Now, vegetarian food isn't easy to come by in France, so we thought a salad would be our best bet. Boy, what an experience that was! I wish I could describe the dressing used...it seemed to be some combination of horseradish, cream, spicy mustard, and a little evil thrown in for good measure. We tried our best to push it around our plates and choke down a little. Those Parisians sure don't like it if you don't eat their food, so we got quite the glare and inquisition from our waiter. After that, it took us quite some time to get over our fear of salads. From that point on, we subsisted almost entirely on croissants. I didn't know it was possible to tire of pastries, but we did it!

After lunch, we walked around just a bit before we felt we couldn't go on any longer. We returned to our hotel to collapse in our beds and try to beat the jet lag.

Seven!

Rhys turned seven today! It's hard to believe that our boy has grown from this:


To this:


in such a short time. I can't bear to think of the changes that will come in the next seven years...but I'm sure he'll grow from a wonderful boy into a wonderful man. For now, I'll just enjoy the boy that we have. He's such a fantastic combination of mellow, goofy, shy, thoughtful, kind, contemplative, athletic, and intuitive. He enriches all of our lives so much. We're always grateful to share our lives with our little "Rhyscake"!

What we did on summer vacation...

Wow, that will be quite a post -- if I ever get around to writing it! Avery and I have been back from Europe for about three weeks now, and I haven't managed to find the time to blog about our trip. In short, we saw and did some amazing things that we'll never forget, and the boys seemed to have a great time doing "guy stuff" with Bill. The day after we returned home, Rhys ended up with a stomach bug and vomited in the car, all over the carseat, carpet, and in my purse. If that isn't a welcome home, I don't know what is! Since then, I've done about 938476989 loads of laundry, recovered from jet lag, and gotten back into the swing of things. We're joining a new co-op this fall, and we've been getting to know some new families. Rhys is enjoying a basketball class at the Y, and Avery is thrilled to be reunited with her violin. But mostly, we're taking it easy. Lots of swimming, lots of board games, lots of library books and movies. Ahhh, summer.

Hopefully I'll get my act together in the next few days and post some of the millions of vacation pictures we took. But, in the meantime, I'll leave you with the latest Griffinism, from yesterday when we were all swimming in Mamar's pool. Avery lost her grip on Griffin while they were playing, and he went under for a second. He was fine physically, but he was instantly irate.

Griffin, pointing a finger at Avery: Avery, you're FIRED!
Rhys giggles.
Griffin turns and points a finger at Rhys: Rhys, you're fired too!
Me (trying not to laugh too): Am I fired too?
Griffin: No, but you only have one kid now. ME!

(Later he told me that he wanted to be fired too, because the he could go live with the Landers!)

And a quick Rhysism:
The kids were trying to one-up each other the other day in the car. I can't remember what it was about, but it went something like this...
Avery: I have 4 of them!
Rhys: I have 36!
Avery: Yeah, well I have 425!
Rhys: You think that's a lot? I have sideways 8 of them!

The Heat

No, really. That's what Rhys's All-Stars team is called. I've never heard of a more appropriately named team. We're wrapping up our second weekend of All-Stars, and all I can do is wonder why on earth summer baseball in Texas ever sounded like a good idea.

Despite the triple-digit degree temperatures, Rhys seems to be having a great time. He is learning a lot and has some really nice kids on his team. Last weekend's tournament was a great success, and after playing five games during the weekend, the Heat earned a 2nd place trophy. This weekend, his team is playing three games to get seeded for the final tournament. This afternoon they played a double header (did I mention the 100 degree temps?), and they won both.

Travel plans

My mom and Doug had planned a trip to Scotland this summer to celebrate Doug's 60th birthday. He was so proud of his heritage and so excited to go. It's not a trip that Mom wants to take without him, but she could still definitely use to get away, so she has changed the tickets a bit and invited Avery and me to go with her. Avery and I are very sorry about the circumstances but very excited about the generous opportunity Mamar has offered us.

The trip is coming up very soon, so we've been in a flurry of plans and arrangements. My passport is long expired and Avery has never had one, and getting them in a hurry is quite an undertaking. It's been nice to have a distraction in this sad time, but a little overwhelming while our thoughts are so focused on missing Doug. Avery and I have been immersing ourselves in guidebooks for France and Italy, and Avery has been following me around with her French phrasebook, quizzing me.

I'll admit that I'm more than a little apprehensive about leaving the boys for two weeks. Bill plans to take several days off work to do "guy things" with them, and they'll also spend a couple of days with Nonnie and friends while Bill works. I've never been away from them for any length of time, but I know they'll be fine. I keep reminding myself that Bill is a wonderful, hands-on Dad, and they'll all survive just fine without me. Actually, I imagine they'll be sorry when I come back and rain on their Guy Party!