Flying

Flying, Flying, Flying, Still Flying!

Today is Saturday, February 20 and it is also Sunday, February 21.  This is the benefit or bane of flying West. Friday night I took Skeeter to Cousin Dog’s for her vacation, said good bye to Christine, Mac, and Maddie and to Skeeter and Satchel.  Christian was zonked out after a long and week of AP classes and tennis practices.  Weekends are his catch up time for sleep.

Back home in my very clean and very quiet house I cleared out the fridge, watered plants, took out the trash and locked the house up. I downloaded some books and movies to my new Samsung Galaxy Tab, thanks Karen for showing me how.  Then a hot bath, could be the last one for a while, good book and tucked into clean sheets.

 And then it happened.  Eyeballs popped wide open so I put on a boring movie.  Actually it turned out to be interesting so fell asleep at midnight.  And then it happened.  Eyeballs popped wide open.  It was 3:12 am! Tossed and turned, read, took another bath and ended up never falling back to sleep.  So I got dressed and actually repacked my ‘seat bag.’ 

At last it was eight o’clock.   Right on time Skip and Susie arrived to pick me up for a ride to Atlanta Hartsfield Jackson International Airport.  We quickly found the Korean Air Morning Calm check in desk. I had a panic moment when I thought I had left my phone in the back of Skip’s van but just as a very great travel partner, Susie, calmly (we were, after all, in the morning calm line!) was dialing to locate my phone by its ring, a notification dinged and the phone was exactly where it belonged - in the correct jacket pocket.  So now that the trip’s “what did I do with it moment” is over and done with. We got checked in.  I was able to change my seat to a right sided window and we made our way to security.

I always get the pat down, arthritis creates misshapen joints which is what the new scanners pick up. Then my carry on got pulled aside, opened and searched.  The girl didn’t know what she was exactly looking for so after a cursory exam she carried it back to a different scanner and it cleared.

Next stop, The Varsity!  A cheese dog for me and chili cheese dog for Susie. 

We made our way to the Plane Train and settled in at Gate E3.  I talked with all three of my girls and then it was already time to board and settle in to a surprisingly comfortable 46K.  The 747 has Business Class upstairs, and First Class has Lay Flat seats.  Our Economy Class seats do have a little more leg room than many planes.  I love when you recline the back that the seat slides forward.  The seat back screen has view choices for the planes cameras.  The forward camera gives a slightly roller coasterish version of the pilot’s eye view as we took off.  I then switched to the landscape view and enjoyed seeing Atlanta from a bird’s eye view.  I will be checking out Seoul in a few hours from the same vantage point. 

The plane has so many hostesses – 58!  The Economy Class is sectioned into three groups of 90 seats each.  We have six flight attendants at a time and they rotate.  The ladies parade to the Crew Rest door.  The lead attendant unlocks it and down they go to the belly of the aircraft and up come the almost Stepford duplicates.  There were bottles of water, pillows, blankets, and headphones at each place.  We also have a packet wrapped in the lovely turquoise of the uniforms. It has slippers, a tooth brush and paste, and pen for filling out the arrival forms.  The ladies perform even the smallest tasks with an almost Geisha like grace.  Nothing is handed to you, it is presented.

As soon as we leveled off drinks and peanuts were served.  This was followed by a dinner service with several choices.  I got lucky.  I picked beef and it was delicious pot roast and Farfalle.  I would have rather had the Korean meal dessert of fresh melon than my brownie but everything was good. The buffalo mozzarella salad was nicely dressed and the wine flowed.  And it flowed in glasses made of real glass! And best of all – real stainless steel silverware including a steak knife!

At exactly 3:20 all the window shades slammed shut.  I think because of the 14 hour time difference Korean air thinks we should sleep. That isn’t going to happen.  I enjoyed my seat companions.  A lady from Alabama who is escorting her mother-in-law back home to Korea after her father-in-law’s funeral.  She had spent three months in America and now the daughter in-law will be with her at her home three hours by bus into the countryside from Seoul.  She was very grateful that Korean Air did not charge them for the tickets. She complimented Korean Air greatly for making a gift of the trip.

I have watched three movies.  The Intern, Steve Jobs, and Room.  Room was very interesting and well done.  The young boy is surely nominated for an Academy Award.  I have walked up and down the aisles several times and stopped in section three each time to visit Susie.  She is enjoying an aisle seat with the middle seat empty. The large man who would have been seated there is in my window seat.

The sunset was spectacular.  Or maybe it was the Sunday morning sunrise!  I am so glad I kept opening and peeking around the shade. The moon is bright and full in a clear sky over the frozen tundra below.  Spectacular pink sky melted into brilliant sharp purple.  The picture will not do justice to the sight so I just enjoyed it while it lasted.

After a snack of a Berok like chopped meat and onion stuffed Hot Bun I thought I would write to you. More to come with any luck at all!

The flight continued along the same vein.  The only drawback was that they kept the blinds drawn most of the time.  Only when serving which they did twice more, were they allowed to be open. Seriously, I know that on planes, those who can sleep do with little trouble at all.  And those of us who can’t need some natural light!

Anytime they passed around glasses of water they also had either guava or pineapple juice or always there was orange juice.  I drank three glasses of what really tasted fresh squeezed OJ. Last time I had that many glasses of orange juice they were laced with champagne!

We landed right on schedule and at Gate 17.  Our connecting flight to Hanoi was leaving from 15.  But we followed the signs to International Transfers.  These led us upstairs where we again went through a security check.  It was very rudimentary so didn’t take long.  We went straight on to our gate and directly into the line.  This led us back downstairs to board.  Susie and I are in the same row.

The second flight was more of a commuter flight.  No bottle of water but still the nicest air blanket I have ever experienced.  Exhaustion smacked me!  I knew I could sleep on this plane with this great blanket.  But no.  As soon as my eyes shut the flight attendant wanted me to put my seat back up because dinner was being served.  I appreciated that nice touch on our earlier flight and it should really be a rule.  So much easier to eat for the person behind you.  But my seat, in this case, was a two person job.  I had it as straight as I could by pressing the button, so I pressed it again and the young lady reached over and pushed it. (I knew this would be a repeated performance later at the end of the flight.) 

As my eyes shut I heard, you can sleep but do you want to have your dinner? It was her again. So I accepted a chicken dinner but could only eat the roll.  It was soft and warm.  The mousse cake was good too, and not chocolate.  The chicken was undefinable.  All around me people were eating fish. Dinner was not going well!  Once the trays were collected I just couldn’t get comfortable and settled.  On the daylight flight they kept closing the shades and turning down the interior lighting.  On this flight, that was to land us at 9:40 p.m., the lights were kept full on and bright!  I may have dozed for a bit but I really am envious of those who can sleep on a plane.  

I was happy to hear the wheels jolt down and see the modern terminal and dozens of parked Korean Air jets.  Not too many of any other airline. It was not long before we were into the customs line.  We got lucky.  They were not a lot of locals on the flight so the Vietnam Citizen line moved quickly and to speed up the process they cut our line right at Susie and moved us to the local’s line. 

We made our way to baggage claim and while Susie took ours off the belt I sought out our waiting guide, Phil.  It turned out he was outside the area and was meeting only us. He called the driver who met us outside and we sped into the Capitol City of Hanoi! 

It is easy to see that this will be quite an adventure!  Much like in India, every little shop spills onto the sidewalks.  But here the sidewalks are also congested with motor scooters.  Millions of them literally.  The city has a population of over six million people and everyone is on a scooter!  Phil warned us that the scooter drivers, you have to be at least 18, do not take traffic signals seriously but as suggestions! Crosswalks are for decoration!

Our hotel is in the Old City.  It is near one of the 70 lakes in the city.  This largest lake is natural and is surrounded by parklike walks and lots of flowers.  A red bridge is lighted and leads to a temple on a little island.  Our hotel is the Golden Lotus Luxury and we were very happy to be checked into our pretty room on the 6^th floor near the elevator.  The bathroom features a golden lotus sink but best of all lit has a long, deep tub.  Over there are wooden blinds that covering the large window between the guest room and the restroom.  These seems to be a popular concept in high end foreign hotels!  

It is now 1:00 a.m. Monday morning.  Good night!

Majestic Morocco

Hello again.  On Tuesday I leave for Morocco so have been studying up.  

When I returned home last Spring and reread about my French rivers trip I was really embarrassed.  I vow to be more careful before posting this time.  Elva Smith and I will be traveling for two weeks with a company called Smartours.  When I toured The Galapagos and Machu Picchu with them, (you will see me in the center of the group photo used in the advertisement),  I found that the schedule was busy with included tours and travel.  There will be a lot of down time but I suspect that since this time there will be six hotels in as many cities or towns there will be a lot of  internal travel.  I suspect much of our free time will be spent on buses or trains or camels!

We begin with notorious Casablanca before going on to mysterious Marrakesh. We will cover the country from the seaside at Essouira, through the High Atlas Mountains, to the Sahara Dessert at Erfoud.  The alleyways of the Medina in the capital of Rabat and the Kasbah in Fez will surly require an intense exploration.

Please join me as we explore Majestic Morocco together.  Choose to follow my blog.  It is free and if you sign in each time you will be able to enjoy all of these stories and be ready for my next adventure as well.

Farewell France – Hello Home – and the nightmare in between!

After a late night, thanks to my usual night before travel jitteriness and lack of sleep, 4:30 a.m. came way too early.  Ruth and I both seemed to wake up at the same time, about 15 minutes before our alarm was set.  Each of us, when on our own, is capable of being up and ready to roll in twenty to thirty minutes, but two ladies traveling together need to extend the time frame to allow for modesty and talking!  We had our suitcases in the hall and were on our way to breakfast on the Aquavit Terrace at five.  Had to call and cancel the back-up 5:15 wake-up call on the way out of the cabin.

The ship was sleepily approaching the new day.  The darkness around us was emphasized by the glowing lights of the Papal City to our starboard.  A buffet of fruit, cereal, rolls, and yogurt was set.  Typical of a European breakfast, there was also a selection of meats and cheeses.  I made myself a couple of croissant ham and cheese sandwiches to take along.  You never know when you are flying what will be served and when.

Back in the cabin a final potty stop and tooth brushing, one last look around our home away from home, and we were on our way to our airport chariot – bus.  We said goodbye to the desk staff as we left our key cards and Mia, in her usual graciousness, told us our bus was waiting.  We were a little early, our bags were not yet there.  The same staff that waits tables, and the few that are below decks dragged the bags the block to the parking area.  Directly in front of our ship there was not a safe and easy street access.  Every day we had been following this path but there was some confusion at the limited street parking.  Buses from different ships were intermingled.  One day we boarded the German bus and that might have been fun, but they quickly found us out!  Maybe because we didn’t greet them with Guten Morgan.

This morning I waited to identify our bags while Ruth secured our window seats for the hour fifteen drive to Marseilles from Avignon.  The Captain herself was bringing some of the suitcases as by now we were behind schedule and the 6:30 people were beginning to gather.  Even with the delay we had plenty of time before our flights.  Viking has someone meet us at the airport and lead us into the terminal, up a couple of escalators and across to the proper check in zones.  Most of us were on Air France, a Delta partner, and heading to Amsterdam.  A few were on a United partner to Frankfurt.

At ticketing, Ruth went ahead of me and we would meet on the other side of security.  I placed my bag on the scale and it was tagged as soon as my passport was scanned.  Luckily when the agent said I was all set and to enjoy my flight to Amsterdam, I thought to ask if my bag was checked straight through to Atlanta.  He said it wasn’t because I wasn’t going to Atlanta.  I told him that I had checked in online all the way through but he said no, just to Amsterdam.   He told me I had no flight to Atlanta for me or my bag! 

When I told him the flight number he asked for my ticket.  My print out was in the big folder in my bag instead of in the case with my passport.  Uh oh!  So he said take my time, not making those behind me happy, but I sure did not want to pick up my bag in Amsterdam, go through customs, and recheck it.  As it turned out, that was an extra lucky thing to avoid!  I came first to the very nice itinerary booklet that Viking sends.  In it was my flight reservation number and he was able to quickly find me in his computer and recheck me through to Atlanta.  Yea for small victories and peace of mind.

At security, the school teacher from Rochester N. Y with whom we had had dinner one evening was stuck in security.  She was in a panic.  She had two bags to carry on.  When her large carry on could not go through she tried to cross to hand the small bag to her friend the CIA agent.  They stopped her twice and then finally, the security guard took her bag and handed it to her friend.  It didn’t go through the scanner.  They were trying to give her options and she just kept asking, will they charge me to check it? She returned back toward the check in…in tears.

I always get the pat down.  The new machines do not scan for metal, like a titanium reconstructed knees.  They scan for misshapen places.  Well, my left knee and right shoulder always get little yellow boxes on the screen!  After all, my shoulder has been described as “road kill!”

On the other wide was the Rochester friend, the CIA agent! {?}  Didn’t think you could tell that to strangers even if you were retired.  She explained that the school teacher, who had traveled often, put her Chateauneuf de Papes wine in her carry on.  It would have been cheaper to throw the wine away than pay for a second checked bag.  The CIA lady had to use the bathroom and asked me to watch her growing collection of carry-ons.  While doing this, Ruth showed up.  I was surprised since she had been way ahead of me, I thought.  Turned out she had gone back to a pre-security rest room.  At security she had needed to remove her shoes but I didn’t.  Not really very consistent safety plan.

We waited not very long for our flight and when boarding discovered we were not seated together.  Probably because I always choose a window seat, not over the wing, so I may have changed the assigned seating long before we left home.  I must admit that I do not remember if they fed us anything but I vaguely recall some sort of roll and several cups of tea!  The whole flight was pretty unmemorable and the landing in Amsterdam was, as always, actually in Haarlem.  The taxi to a gate is about seven miles over scenic canals and tulip fields.

When we finally reached the gate, Ruth and I immediately started the long, very long trek through Schiphol.  It is a very nice and somewhat unique airport.  Much like Singapore, it does not have a central security place so people can meet flights and see people off within the airport.  We separated toward our different gates and the last I saw of Ruth she was saying she would see me soon and making a Choo-Choo motion with her right arm!  This was to remind me that I would be confined to an evil therapy chair moving my new bionic shoulder after my upcoming June surgery!

The reason that there is not a central security check is that security is done at each glass enclosed gate.  This is a great system.  You are only in line with the 300 or 400 people on your same flight.   Generally, I really like this system as it is faster.  There is comfortable seating at the gate and you go downstairs to a rest room area so that you don’t have to go out and in again.  Very well thought out.  Knowing how well this all works, I stopped in the bathroom nearby before getting in the line.  I checked some email and texted flight info to Christine so she could meet my flight.

When I got in the line it was longer than it had been.  No worry.  Plenty of time.  But I soon discovered why they started boarding an hour and half before flight time!  The first agent checked the passport photo and that I was ticketed.  There were two lines.  I tell you this because a sideshow involved the Sky Priority lane. 

I was waiting in my rather long lane when in the distance an agent held up a bunch of computer cables.  I thought he was saying that someone left them behind.  I was surrounded by chattering teenagers who were excited about the week they had just spent in France for their Spring Break Service Tour.  Yes, school credit for travel!  Wow! Wish I had had that opportunity at their age!  Maybe I wouldn’t be a travel junkie now!  They began asking me what they were supposed to do.  I am used to having to have my phone and tablet separated out for inspection but they were not.

After about five minutes the man began waving around the cables again.  I listened more closely.  What was wanted, no required, was that all tablets, all phones, all cameras, all chargers, all batteries, all connecting cables must be placed in a separate bin for the scanner.  Ohhh boy!  I travel with two cameras ever since in week two of a seven week trip someone dropped and broke my camera.  Don’t want to go through that trauma again!  One camera has a charger and five batteries and a USB to connect to my tablet.  The other camera also has a two chargers and a cable to connect it to the tablet or phone and about 10 batteries.  They are old and don’t last long.  Then there is the phone, and charger.  And tablet and charger.  Also I was carrying two converters. And some random things like extra battery and cable, clock and who knows what all.  It was not all in one bag.  A lot of things were but a camera is always with me and not in a suitcase.  Extra batteries are too.  Last minute use of chargers meant they were sort of stuffed in here and there.

As teenagers swirled around me holding their cell phones ready for inspection, I stepped aside and opened my carry-on and found the large bag with most of the items.  But then checked around for the strays.  While waiting in line, clutching random electronics and a baggie of 3-ounce liquids to my chest, the side show started!

A young black man, wearing large golden initials YRN heavily hanging around his neck, went from the priority check-in line to the scanner that he was directed to.  It was separate from the rest of us.   One scanner for the masses and one for the few.  While he was talking loudly on his phone to whomever he was going to be traveling with he went right to the front of the line.  The ‘cable man’ asked him to get in the line.  He loudly proclaimed that he was YRN and wasn’t going to wait anywhere.  He had ‘priority check-in.’ Cable man told him so do all these people, go to the back of the line.  

“Hey man, I am YRN!”

“What’s that?”

“Young Rich Nation!”

“You are a nation?  Which one?”

“Young Rich one, I don’t wait for anything.”

“Well, you won’t have to wait once it is your turn.  Go to the back of the line, which is longer now that when we started!”

By now, two other bedecked, dreadlocked, scruffy men joined up with him and the three had a loud conversation about being forced to wait in line.  They actually called someone, maybe their manager, and complained and asked why he hadn’t arranged for priority service!

Now that they had been thoroughly noticed, the young girls around me were pointing and whispering.  “They must be famous!”  Finally one of them was brave enough to step out of our line to ask them if they were YRN?  That in itself was weird.  They cheerfully appreciated the recognition.  The first young man even turned to the security guy and actually said, “See, they know who we are!”   Picture taking followed as girls singly and in groups took pictures with them.  All of a sudden, YRN was in no hurry!  I asked one of the girls, who was already posting to Facebook, if she actually knew who they were or had listened to their music before this.  She said, “No, but they are famous.  They must be good!”

Can you hear my brains rattling inside my shaking head?

I finally got to the scanner and put all my stuff in one bin, and started to add my Ziploc of liquids when the man working it said, and I quote: “You don’t need to put that in there.  Put it in your bag.”  What?  Huh?  Phew, such a weird thing.  We went straight onto the plane.

I found my seat toward the back of the plane and had a flight attendant place my carry on overhead.  In the row behind me was “The Pilot Fish” and her husband.  (That’s a whole ‘nother story!)  I commented that we finally made it through check in and wasn’t that a mess with everyone scrambling to find all their electronics.  She said in her usual dour manner, well you should have known that we always do that.  I replied that I knew to do my tablet, cell phone, and camera but not all the parts. At least I never have that I recalled.  And to not do liquids, which of course, she said she never does!  I guess before my next flight I had better brush up on the rules!

I settled into my window seat with my small, ever present, orange Stihl stuff bag under the seat in front of my.  A very nice lady from Douglasville sat in the second seat beside me.  She was a college professor, author, and Mom of three.  She was returning from a conference in Newcastle Upon Tyne where she was a presenter about the history of the Selma marches.   We chatted a couple minutes and waited for takeoff.

I started to cough and thought I would take my prescription cough ‘pearl.’  I didn’t want to be annoying to those seated around me.  Then remembered that I hadn’t had a chance to refill my water bottle.  Too late now.  The flight attendants were buckled in.  I realized I couldn’t swallow the tiny, round capsule.  My tongue was becoming numb!  As soon as a flight attendant was standing I signaled him for a glass of water which he brought.  By then my jaw and cheek were tingling.  I couldn’t swallow the water.  It was dribbling all over me and I was afraid I would start spewing water everywhere.  And yes, I panicked.  I stood up suddenly and started to step over my seat companion at the same time I thrust into her hand the spilling glass of water while she was trying to remove her ear buds and stand up.  No time for that!  I put my hand to my throat and headed to the nearest rest room, eight rows ahead of me.   

I shut the door but neglected to lock it.  I was trying to wash my mouth out with cold water and wash my face which was bright red with tears streaming from coughing and choking.  The door opened.  The male flight attendant was trying to knock but……  He asked if he should do the Heimlich!  I shook my head and he said, you have to tell me no. I said no, I’ll be okay.  He closed the door and pretty soon a lady, who was talking to someone in the aisle, backed in, turned, and was shocked to see me.  She apologized and pointed out that I had not locked the door.  I locked it.

I spent maybe twenty minutes in the restroom wishing that the flight was already over! 

It wasn’t over for another nine hours!  I made my way back to the seat where my very worried travel mate asked if I was okay.  I explained what happened. She said she sent the flight attendant because she thought I was choking and she guessed she had just slipped into “Mom mode.”  I thanked her and we talked a few minutes.  Then we settled down to watch movies.  I couldn’t concentrate to write or read. So I watched About a Boy which was really interesting and easy enough to follow.  Most of the times on flights, I just listen for the background sound but miss a lot of the conversation in movies because of ambient noise.  Maybe I should invest in a noise canceling headset.

I couldn’t eat when the snack was served and couldn’t eat at the meal.  Just couldn’t swallow properly.  I was really kind of worried about it.  (Two weeks later, my doctor said during a regular visit, that I probably was swallowing but just couldn’t feel that I was.)  I drank a lot of warm tea and ate a granola bar a ham sandwich.  I watched all the available episodes of Jerry Seinfeld’s Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee.  It is a kind of funny premise.  But the one with his old friend and partner in crime, Michael Richards, was kind of sad.

I got up several times and walked around.  Got more tea from the Flight Attendant in the galley and kept thinking that the flight seemed longer than the one to South Africa, which by far it wasn’t.  Finally it was over.  Even if you were asleep you would know the minute it hit the ground, oops, I mean landed.  Every cell phone welcoming tune can be heard!  The conversational buzz picks up and immediately people start gathering their stuff and the moment they can, it seems that all the seat belts click open in unison!

I joined the rush to the exits and called Christine as I walked toward customs.  I answered a text about a babysitting job and then put the phone on mute, as you are supposed to.  I knew the system so was speedy finding an open kiosk for passport verification and proceeded to the second line to have my passport stamped.  I was kind of wishing I wasn’t a citizen as only two officers were working our line while a half dozen were on the other side. 

Soon a third officer took his post and it was kind of funny.  His name was Knox.  I refrained from starting a conversation and didn’t ask if he was related to my son in law.  But he wanted to chat.  My passport is thick with extra pages and as he was leafing through, looking for a place to mark it, he noticed the various visas.  He asked if I had worked for the airlines.  When I said no he commented that all my travel must cost a lot.  He offered this advice: “You know, it isn’t too late.  You could work part time in their office and get travel benefits.  Then you would still have time to travel and it would be a lot cheaper.”  He proceeded to ask me about Russia and Brazil.  I was polite, never want to mess with someone in uniform of any kind, but I cut it short and headed to baggage claim.

I found the right carousel but didn’t see my bag.  Someone commented that some were pulled off already to make space.  Weird, but there was my bag off to the side where I never would have looked because I thought those would have been unclaimed from previous flights.  I was glad though as two different international flights were sharing the baggage claim.  Headed outside and called Christine, who again was graciously picking me up.  She couldn’t believe I was already curbside so even though she wasn’t right there it wasn’t a long wait.

Christine is a good listener and asks all the right questions.  She got the short version of everything but couldn’t believe how weird my voice was from the cough drop incident.  Back at her house, I hung out a little and rode with her to take Christian to a party.  It helped kill time so I wouldn’t fall asleep too early and could get back on schedule.  When we got back, I collected Skeeter and headed home at last.

My usual routine is to completely unpack, start laundry, and sort mail.  It didn’t happen that way.  I went to bed right after a hot bath and according to my Misfit, I slept ten hours.  What a nightmare of a journey home!

Sorry for the long delay.  The cold I came home with held me in it's tight grip for another week!  And, as you know, once you get home, life gets in the way of living!  Soon, I hope to post some pictures for you.  Thanks for reading!

Beginning of the End, Saturday, April 11

Still in Avignon we are back on schedule.  Breakfast was followed by the 9:00 a.m. walking tour of Avignon.  Our guide, Catherine, was a heavy set lady who breathed heavily into the Quietvox microphone and took lots of pauses and found lots of sitting places so we could rest.  In truth, she needed to rest.  Demonstrating the laissez – faire we found typical of our guides, she was not concerned very much by keeping her group together. 

As we wound through the typical by now for us streets we could see there was a lot of high – end shopping available.  Christian Lecroix was born here and his store had prominent placement.  Prada, Dior, Givenchy, Rolex, and other names you know, were all cheek by jowl in one street after another.  The featured stop on this morning’s tour was the Palace of the Popes.

Seven Popes reigned in Avignon until 1377 beginning with Pope Clement V in 1309.  He was encouraged by the scheming of Phillippe IV of France. The Papal seat moved from Rome during the wars there.  The Palais des Papes started as a somewhat modest castle.  Whatever their official status they were not all as saintly as you might expect a Pope to be.

Clement V died from eating powdered emeralds to aid his digestion.  His successor, Clement VI, felt that the best way to honor God was by exhibiting luxury.  He began to expand the building and to make more it more opulent.  He enriched his coffers and created a court for himself and Cardinals and Bishops were happy to oblige him.  Two Anti – Popes continued to try to rule the Church from France until 1377 but by then the Vatican had become the home of the legal Pontiff.  But Benedict XIII hung on in Avignon until 1403 when he fled in disgrace.

The heavy stone walls encompass ten towers in a highly military fashion reflecting the insecurity of religious life in the 14^th century.  On the very top of one, which is part of the church, is a 25 foot tall gilded statue of with her crown of stars.  The interior of the 148,000 square foot now stands empty except for some scale models, an occasional ‘cathedra’ or religious seat, a random trunk or wardrobe of the period, and one magnificent tapestry.  Screens show what it must have looked like based on the remaining frescoes and the styles of the time.  There is a display of original floor tiles.  Carved and painted ceiling beams are also from the early centuries.  In Rome, the Papal archives have original documents that describe art works and ‘costs’.  Most were donated but a great value was placed on them. 

When we left the stone cold structure, we continued our tour stopping in several squares and even spending a little while in the Halles, which means a covered market.  The stalls inside had every staple and delicacy you could imagine.  At Le Jardin the white asparagus was 15 Euros 80 per kilo or approximately $16 a pound!  It was less expensive than the green which is less available in France.

We left the tour when the shopping segment started.  It was an easy walk back to the boat since it ended right where we had started, in Hotel de Ville square by the carousel that has been operating there since it first attracted children in 1900.  I have never seen so many merry – go – rounds as in France.  It seems every city has a main, large, antique one and several more in the many squares.

 A fast lunch on the deck overlooking the palace we have visited in the morning.  We had scheduled an optional (paid) tour for 2:00 p.m.  Nothing fancy for me, just salad and bread. We went to our room to get our recharged whisperers for the visit to Pont du Gard.  This is the ancient bridge which was built as an aqueduct to transport fresh water some 31 miles from a still active spring in Uzes to the town of Nimes.

The bridge is considered to the finest and is certainly the largest, longest that the Romans ever built.  It consists of three rows of continuous arches.  At the top is the water carrier.  Since it is covered with flat stones but still large enough for a grown man to walk through to clean you can imagine the perspective that we saw.  I was quite surprised that the bottom layer is wide enough that a road was carried on it alongside the base of the second layer  No longer can you drive on it.  Just a few years ago, when it became a UNESCO World Heritage site that was stopped. Modern cars and trucks put too much stress on the arch.  It is still the way to cross the River Gard, but on foot. 

We found the stony path and steps to the bottom of the 160 foot tall bridge.  At the rocky beach below, sunbathers enjoyed the spring afternoon sunshine under a brilliant, clear blue sky.  No one was swimming and locals seldom do before mid-June.  But the water was so crystal clear that Gar could easily be seen swimming lazily beneath the surface.  It was amazing to see from this vantage point.  Knowing that some of the lower stones weighed as much as six tons, and that the whole thing is held together with no mortar except to seal the roof tiles, you can see why it has fascinated so many for so long.  The total reflection made for a great photo.  I loved it.  It is one of the few places I have had my picture taken.

We walked back up the trail to the free museum.  It shows many aspects of Roman life in Gaul but mostly focuses on the making of the arch, as it should.  I would compare it to the building of the Great Pyramid of Giza.  Man power aided by simple wooden levers and pulleys moved the cut limestone from the quarry.  A master builder decided the placement of each and carefully had it placed against a wooden frame. When an arch was complete, the frame work was removed.  Some was reused and other pieces no longer fit.

The water carrying roof of the top arch allowed a man to fit inside for cleaning purposes.  Every 50 feet there was an angular protrusion into the flowing stream to slow the passage of the life – giving waters.  Above this was a one foot square hole that allowed for splash back because the Spring of Uzes was so prolific and had a never waning powerful current.  This was indeed the perfect excursion for both Ruth and I.

On the way back to the ship we had a brief stop at the island in the Rhone.  From here we had a daytime view of the Pont de Avignon with the amazing Palais du Papes behind it and our boat resting in front of the whole scene.  Viking – “less time getting there more time being there” and in this city it was true.

We were both so exhausted although we had only walked about 2 ½ miles - it had been walking in the blessed warm sun, on upturned river rock, uneven stone slabs, not to code steps, gravel paths, and sandy beaches.  This was our last day of a two week journey from the Beaches of Normandy to the Mediterranean Sea.  The first part of this second week Ruth had caught the cold that was traveling through the ship and coughed a lot at night.  By mid-week she had given it to me and I couldn’t stop coughing.  So for a solid week, we did not sleep well. That surely added to our tiredness as did the late nights, and glass after glass of wine, the unending conversation and laughter, and absorbing the country of France all day long! 

Saturday night we thought about skipping dinner but had been gifted a bottle of Sparkling Wine by the Hotel Manager.  We carried it to the dining room and happened to sit at a table where one couple had brought a bottle of red wine from the place we visited the other day, to celebrate their anniversary.  Just before dessert was served, Gabor, Peter, and the waiters brought sparklers attached to another bottle of Sparkling Wine.  So six of us ended up the last night of the cruise splitting three bottles of wine!

On the way back to the cabin we stopped at the desk to settle our bill.  In the cabin Ruth set the alarm for 4:30 a.m. and I left a follow up wake up call for 5:15.  Our bags had to be in the hall at 5:30 and our bus to the Marseilles airport was scheduled for 6:00 a.m.  It took me too long to finish the last minute packing – somehow my limited wardrobe had expanded!  Lights were finally out at 10:30.  I always hate to see a trip end but I was anxious to get home as my next trip is in a month!

This was indeed an exhausting trip, unlike river cruises of my past. Not at all what I had told Ruth it would be.  Will I sail again with Viking?  Pretty much sealed the deal by buying a couple Future Cruise Certificates and the bonus was that on this trip, for the first time of my European travels, the Euro and Dollar were evenly matched.