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Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Wanderings in France ...in one word delicious "diversity"

Just a brief post on coming home again after a month of travel... I've been remiss in not posting during my trip, but in trying to pack in as much as possible during the day, I found it difficult to miss a moment of wandering to sit and write..

France is a feast for the senses.... the sights, the smells, the tastes, the sounds....  For weeks we wandered -- walking, climbing, walking, climbing absorbing these sensations. We..

Ascended the steps in Montmartre to Sacre Coeur...



Waited in line at Berthillon for ice cream on Ile St. Louis....


Watched tourists taking photos of giant bubbles near the Beaubourg...




Watched tourists taking photos everywhere..


Peered through the golden gate at Versailles ...


Marveled at a medieval buildings.... (this one Medieval Hospital in Beaune):




Roamed through miles of underground wine caves:


Rambled aimlessly through the rooms of many, many chateaux...



Visited a piece of America on French soil...


My lasting impression from a month in France is  in one word...diversity.  On any given evening we  would be mingled in a Paris cafe with Ghanians, Italians, New Yorkers, Chinese, Germans, Algerians and, of course, some Parisians.   On the block where we stayed in Paris, there were Indian, Chinese, Italian, Moroccan, Japanese, and two French restaurants, for one of which, a steak and frites joint,  people queued every night down the street to get a table.

And on just about every block in Paris and in the small French towns we visited,  patisserie windows bedazzled with tormentingly diverse selections of delicacies luring you like the Sirens did another traveler.

We roamed the neighborhoods of Paris through centuries of architecture, art, music and culture -- from the ancient alleys of the left bank and isles in the Seine to the ultra-modern towers of La Defense, from the small wine towns of Burgundy through the Loire Valley to Normandy.  Every day we tried to see and taste and hear all we could.   And along the way the genuine joy of living cascaded over us like an immense waterfall.   

The Clock at Musee D’Orsay