Author: Lee Hausman

Today is “Paris sans Voiture” day – Paris without cars – in which for a Sunday afternoon only bicycles and pedestrians may use the streets in many areas of the city. 

 
It’s also an extremely fine Fall day and the tourists and Parisians are out in full force to enjoy the experience.

Kind of a bonanza for pedi-cab operators (something I can’t remember seeing here before) and bicycle rental firms.

Well, today I had thought to go visit Saint-Chapelle, and then Pere Lachaise, the Parisian cemetery where Jim Morrison, Oscar Wilde, and other famous folks are buried, followed by lunch a Le Fine Mousse. However, I got a late start, Saint-Chapelle had a two block-long entry line, and I also discovered that the Le Fine Mousse doesn’t open until 5pm.

So, a change of plans. For someone who is on vacation from his technical writing job, I seem to be spending a lot of time posting to my own blog, to Facebook, and to TripAdvisor. There’s no escaping it, I guess. I spent what was left of the morning on this beautiful Paris day people-watching near Notre Dame, futilely monitoring the Saint-Chapelle line, and handing out directions to tourists who somehow recognized me as an English-speaking, knowledgable, friendly sort. My disguise foiled once again! 

In the afternoon I strolled rue Mouffetard, window-shopping the many eateries. Then I found my way to the Wide Open Spaces Bar near the Pantheon. What a great place!

 

 
 

 
I spent a pleasant few hours chatting with the Turkish-born, Architecture PhD candidate bartender and enjoying a few pints. It didn’t hurt that the Rugby World Cup was on the tube, either. Total bliss!

The Word Press app for iPad is proving to be unreliable. I have no idea how this text became formatted as Italic and no idea how to undo it. You’d think by now WP would have this nonsense figured out.

Yesterday I made my usual Orsay and Louvre museums run and, collections aside, they’re such different places. 

  

 
Sadly, my favorite Degas pastels are no longer on display. These are the marvelous drawings of ballet dancers backstage and such. The helpful docent told me that, for conservation purposes, after 3 months on display, they must be sheltered from all light for 3 years! After  communing with the other works of Degas, Monet, and others, I set out for Printemps, one of the major department stores along the Blvd. Haussmann (no relation). Along the way I passed:

 

 
On the 6th floor of Printemps, I settled in for lunch at the Brasserie, under its spectacular cast iron and stained glass dome. 

 

  

 
After a lovely lunch (won’t bore with you with delicious details) and talking myself out of what would have been an expensive visit to the Men’s Dept, I hoofed it back to the Louvre. Sigh… yes, it’s hot and crowded and a labyrinth but man oh man is the art amazing. As usual I visited my favorite David, Delacroix, and Gericault works in the French 19th Century Hall, and spent a bit of time looking at Islamic art (somehow not romantic enough for me). 

The #27 bus got me back to my hotel in time to take the photo above of the Pantheon – very nice at the end of the day when the sun hits it.

More stained glass in my future tomorrow, as I visit Sainte-Chapelle. Stay tuned!

Here are some random thoughts encountered during my recent airport terminal visits and flights:

Luggage Overload – Mindful of the fact that I’ll be lugging my suitcase up and down stairs in places and over cobblestones and of the current fashion for luggage surcharges, I always try to pack lightly. Not Rick Steves’ “lightly” mind you – I still use a 26″ rolling suitcase and a carry-on bag – but I try to keep the suitcase down to 35 lbs. I noticed at several airports that my concerns aren’t shared by everyone. Some folks travel with amazing amounts of overstuffed luggage. Maybe they’re moving to a new home? Maybe they’re richer than Croesus? They’re definitely not loved by everyone waiting in the “Bag Drop” line…

Loving the Takeoff – I love travel and never more so when it begins with a thundering run down a runway. As the plane goes from zero to 180 or so mph in 20 seconds, I always tick off “V1” (when the plane has enough lift for the nose wheel to come up) and then “V2” (when all wheels come off the ground), usually while listening to some rousing music (The Indigo Girls this trip). Then a bit later when the “flaps” are retracted and the ride smoothes out, I’m happily on my way, marvelling at the utter magic of flight.

Craft Beer on Virgin Atlantic – I was delighted to see my favorite beverage appear in the menu on my flight. Among the offerings was something from Old Busthead brewery in Gainesville, VA, where one of my work colleagues performs occasionally in a band. Good beer, that. These are bottled beers only so, sadly, no Mad Fox brews for now.

ORLY vs CDG – I flew from London into Paris Orly airport, rather than Charles deGaulle airport, for the first time on this trip and it’s a much nicer experience. Orly was the original Paris airport and is still very much in use but it’s smaller than CDG and less hectic. The OrlyVal automated rail shuttle takes you from the airport to the RER B rail line for a fast ride into central Paris. Give Orly a thought for your next flight into Paris.

When flying in Upper Class on a Virgin international red-eye, there are several schools of thought. There are the Sleepers, who immediately request a “sleep suit”, pull on a blindfold, and go (or at least try) to sleep. Then there are the Diners, who want to enjoy the benefits of their premium service and figure they won’t get that much sleep anyway. I fall into the latter category and, since you asked, here’s what was on for dinner:

 

  

  

 

Tasty stuff and I was snoozing soon thereafter.

There I was in Upper Class on my lovely Virgin-Atlantic flight and ready to use my fancy-schmancy Bose noise-cancelling headphones. I pulled them out and inserted the cable and the battery, which I had been very careful when packing to be sure was brand new.

Oops! Obviously, a AA battery does not fit where a AAA battery is designed to be used. When I asked the flight attendant if he had an AAA battery, he looked astounded and said No, and that he’d never been asked that question before. I collected points for originality but still feeling incredibly dumb, I managed somehow to survive the flight using earbuds. Packing Lesson of the Day: trust but verify – insert the new battery, switch on, and test! P.S. Yes, of course I was able to buy the right battery at the local 8 a Huit store near my hotel in Paris.

Each time I prepare to travel, I review the state of the tools available to make these posts. The WordPress app steadily improves over the years, and portable keyboards have gotten better, too. This year I’m using a Belkin Ultimate Keyboard Case with my iPad, a nice large bluetooth keyboard that doubles as a case for the tablet. It’s very lightweight and claims to have a battery that lasts for months (but I’m taking its charging cable with me, of course).

  
Yes, part of my job is to write about technology, so you might find it odd that I choose to write while on vacation. It’s all in the context, I guess. I am, however, reserving starting on The Great American Novel I know I have in me until those years when I’m not over a keyboard 8 hours a day for employment.

So, I’m off to Europe very soon. This year’s stops include Paris, Venice, Amsterdam, and London. All favorites that I’ve been to many times before and this year I’m going to try to visit sights that I’ve skipped or overlooked in the past. 

I’m glad you’ve decided to come along with me and I look forward to sharing my thoughts, travails, and peculiar perspectives with you. Ciao for now!

Yes, after a bit of a hiatus I’ve just finished planning for a Fall trip to many of my favorites European destinations. Here’s hoping that the US dollar is still strong against the Euro in a few more months.

I’m writing this post with the new WordPress editor and the jury is still out as to whether it’s better than my old combination of iaWriter and Blogsy.

In the meantime, I’ve been visiting a few U.S. destinations, including Fort Worth, Texas, and Chicago, and I’ve been favorably impressed with Virgin America, cousin of my favorite trans-Atlantic airline, Virgin Atlantic.

So more news to come soon.

Oxford has some kind of allure for me that I can't really explain and I never miss a chance to visit. I'd love to claim it's something to do with the town's long academic history, reputation as an incubator of genius, etc., etc. but it's probably the result of watching too many episodes of Inspector Morse and Inspector Lewis on TV.

Then it's on to the White Horse, on George Street, with its prominently-placed, framed head shots of John Thaw, Kevin Whatley, and Laurence Fox and, in the TV shows, the scene of many a brainstorm as the detectives sift through the clues, with the assistance of a good pint. This pub is small, with a low ceiling and plenty of good cask ale.

Then I took myself to the Turf Tavern, another storied place, not too far from the replica of Venice's Bridge of Sighs. “The Turf” has been around, in one form or another, as a pub since the 13th century and has been a watering hole for many a student, don, and tourist. Local legend has it that it was at the Turf Tavern that former U.S. president Bill Clinton, while attending Oxford as a Rhodes Scholar, famously “did not inhale”.

Between all the not inhaling and all the beer on offer, one wonders if students here do indeed get an education. These kids are some of the best and brightest the world has to offer, after all. Well, fear not, this sign, assures us that an education is being had (click the photo to enlarge and read the fine print).

Having educated myself a bit, I took the train back to Reading, where I used to live in 2008 and arrived at the marvelous new train station. The constructon was just getting underway when I visited last year and it's nearly done now – quite an improvement! Once in town, I reminisced a bit as I strolled along the main pedestrain shopping area, past John Lewis, Marks & Spencer, and the Oracle shopping mall.

And soon found myself a seat at The Ale House, formerly The Hobgoblin, which has served over 7,000 different cask ales. Plenty to like here. A classic pub, this place hasn't a single stick of matching furniture and is a warren of little rooms beyond the bar. As Happy Hour rang out, colleagues from the local office of my company, and a few who had just flown in from the U.S. to visit them, arrived and the pints began flowing. It was nice to hang with these folks on a social basis, though I declined an invitation to join some of them much later at The Purple Turtle for uninhibited 1980s disco dancing. Yeah… that sounded like not my kind of fun.

So instead, I had the reliable Great Western rail system deliver me back to London in good shape and with plenty of good memories refreshed.

 

My four days in Paris were spent in my usual hangouts: people-watching in Luxembourg Gardens, art-worshipping at the Orsay and Louvre museums, simply smiling at the Eiffel Tower, and lunching at the restaurant under the Art Deco dome atop the Printemps department store. Once again, the Fete des Vendanges (Harvest Festival) in Montemarte was something of a bust.

I did find this interesting store featuring products from the Basque area of Spain (hey – Phil and Marti, check it out) on Boulevard St-Michel. If you double-click the picture and zoom, you can see those are hams hanging from the ceiling.

One more item for the “In Europe, It's Not What You Expected” Department: I decided to send out two pairs of jeans to be cleaned. As we all know, washing and drying them also shrinks them a bit, solving that baggy look they get after a few days wear. Off I sent them, and back they came, dry-cleaned. So they are now very clean and still baggy. Oh well…

As usual, the Eurostar train was fine except we had to stop (yes, dead stop) short of the Chunnel to fix some outer panel door that had come open. Result: 1/2 hour late arrival into London. Also, discovered iPhone Location Services/Facebook has no entry for “under the middle of the English Channel”, which I think it should.

Ensconced at the Paddington Hilton, more proof the world is going to hell in a handbasket: no rooms available to upgrade me (a mere Gold Hilton Honors member, not Diamond or Platinum) to an Executive level room! Hasn't ever happened before in all the years I've been here. Between that and the difficulty upgrading my trans-Atlantic flights, I'm closer to joining the crowd that thinks these loyalty programs are becoming worthless.

I'm off to my old home, Reading, today to visit some favorite old haunts and perhaps see the lads from our company office for a pint after work. Cheerio!