Journal Entries 2 and 3--Flight to France and Arrival in Caen--Thursday and Friday, Oct. 16 & 17, 2014
Hotel de Ville and Abbaye aux Hommes--Caen, Normandy (Church [now attached to city hall] was built by William the Conqueror who is entombed in the floor in front of the altar.)
He told me to go to "express security check-in," which was a long walk away. Once there, I put carry-ons through the conveyor and went easily through security. I did not have to remove my shoes, nor were they picky about my camera or watch.
Then I went to the gate and waited for boarding to begin. I was flying "economy" to Atlanta, so I waited for passengers to board and went to my assigned seat. I found space right above my seat for the flight bag, but others coming in had trouble finding room for their things in the overhead bins. The flight was crowded and not extremely comfortable, but it was over in two hours. We landed in Atlanta at the beginning of rush hour, and I observed heavy highway traffic from the plane as we came in for a landing. Leaving the plane went smoothly, and since Delta would put my checked bag on the Air France flight, I had to bring only my flight bag and tote. I soon longed for a wheeled flight bag, because carrying both items almost the length of the huge terminal at Hartsfield was hard.
I boarded an airport "people mover" train and went a very long distance to the international terminal. I found my gate and waited for about an hour before boarding began. Since I was already through security, there was no repeat of that.
After showing my passport and boarding pass, I entered the Boeing 777 and proceeded back to a middle, four-seat row in the midsection of the plane. I sat in the second seat from the aisle, not right on the aisle as my ticket had shown. The lady on the aisle was nice and had requested that location. The seat to my right was unoccupied, with a woman in the seat beyond. The arrangement was two aisles with three-seat rows by windows and a four-seat row down the middle. We were near the front of our section of the plane with a clear view of the computer video-screen, behind which were bathrooms. Air France attendants were very nice and brought us drinks, served a good dinner with wine, and even fed us breakfast just before we landed in Paris.
I was in this middle section four rows back from the screen.
Our flight path was north to Newfoundland and then across the Atlantic slightly south of Iceland and Greenland. We did not fly directly over them. As we neared the Irish Coast, we turned gradually south towards Paris. This was shown continuously on the large video screen, and we could see it on our individual monitors if we selected that. Like the flight from Dallas to Atlanta, this one was on time.2. Friday, October 17. We landed at Charles DeGaulle Airport in Paris on Friday morning at 8:10. We exited the plane and proceeded to "passport check," which was slow; we had to form lines. I had a very pleasant visit with two American ladies who wrote down names of some of the books I had read, e.g., The Food of France and The Most Beautiful Walk in the World.
Once through passport check, we simply talked briefly to a man in customs who waved me through. Then we went to baggage claim, and our bags were already coming down the chute. Mine seemed never to appear. Then I noticed the dark blue suitcase circling; with my GBS in masking tape on the big side facing up and not on the edges which showed; I had simply failed to spot it early.
Very relieved now to have all three items of luggage, I wheeled everything out into a large arrival area, and along a wall stood a Franco-African fellow, Louis Gabriel Bideau, holding a Road Scholar sign. He noticed my own Road Scholar name tag and collected me and another guy from my flight, "Rip" Baker from Alabama.
Rip and I waited near some seats in the terminal and talked to Louis. He showed us where restrooms were located and where we could buy drinks and snacks. He was younger than we were--in his 40's and physically fit. His reddish-black-brown hair seemed flattened and styled. Soon two couples joined us--the Andrews and Kratovils from New York. We cooled our heels for about three hours. Two or three times, a three-man patrol of young French soldiers armed with assault rifles walked past us as they slowly examined the terminal. Finally, our group boarded a van and headed for Caen about 1:00 pm. The remaining arrivals would come in a different van later in the afternoon.
There were about twelve of us in the van. Len and Helen Andrew and I visited on the way. Paris suburban traffic was pretty heavy, and the atmosphere was cloudy and gray. As we worked our way north, Len and I discussed the afternoon ahead, and he agreed to join me for a walk around Caen during our unscheduled afternoon time before the group meeting at 6:00. We both wanted to find the tomb of William the Conqueror.
Normandy had many fields that were simply plowed and lying fallow. Most highway intersections were traffic circles. The weather was cool, clear, and comfortable. Caen looked pretty and interesting. Our van approached the hotel, which was in an area of pedestrian streets. The Hotel Moderne was a Best Western; it was old (1910) and interesting, with a good, roomy lobby.
Our base in Caen
My room was on the second floor--down a quirky, poorly-lit hallway. I settled in, opened bags, washed up, and headed back down the lobby. Len was already there and said Helen was tired and wanted to rest in their room.The receptionist gave us a good map of Caen, and we started our circuitous walk around the city center. After reversing direction and approaching the Hotel de Ville in the distance, I asked an elderly woman passing by, "Bonjour Madame, nous cherchons le tombeau de Guillaume le Conquerant. Où est-ce qu'il se trouve, s'il vous plaît?" She immediately pointed beyond the city hall and directed us up a narrow street next to it. She told us to go to the back of the hall and turn completely around, and we would be facing the entrance to the Abbaye aux Hommes where William was. We understood each other's French. Len and I thanked her cordially and headed across the circular intersection around to the narrow street. After trying in vain to enter the building from the rear, we went on around, pushed through two sets of enormous oak doors, and found ourselves inside the medieval abbey.
Toward the front, we found William's tomb in floor before the high altar. We were impressed by the stonework of the floor and tomb and the Latin inscription, and we both shot pictures of it with our cell phones. We then exited the Abbey and took a long stroll around the perimeter of William's Castle--on a huge rise overlooking the city; it still dominated the town, as it almost always had. Both it and the Abbey seemed to have had little or no war damage. We walked around to the front approach to the castle up the hill and observed the city tram moving through the opposite square. It ran on electricity.
The story of the placement of William's ripe, overweight body in this space is not pleasant.
Here lies William the Conqueror!
Then Len and I turned toward the hotel and passed by the Eglise St. Pierre. We went inside, and I shot a few pictures. I admired the lifesize statue of St. Peter. A lady was looking it over and told me (in English) that the original was in Rome. We left, and I shot pics of gargoyles on the roof--which covered drain spouts.
William's Castle
Eglise St. Etienne still shows serious War damage.
Eglise St. Pierre (close to our hotel)
At six, we gathered in a meeting room on the second floor, and Louis gave us lists of tour members and our first of three detailed schedule sheets. There were twenty of us, and I was the only one from Texas. He gave us our departure time for tomorrow morning, and I noticed the lady I met at St. Pierre there in the room with us! She was a member of our tour, too. Johanna and Paul Schuller were from Virginia. We visited, and she told me she had already checked on where we could go for messe anticipée at another church nearby tomorrow (Saturday) night.
We then broke up and went to our rooms. Next, we gathered in the lobby to go to dinner. Louis led us several blocks to a street near an ocean canal, and we entered Le Carlotta for a long, wonderful first meal! The aperitif was kir, which is white wine reddened by crème de cassis; we had a salad course with bread sliced into round pieces in a basket. Next, we had an awesome course of prawns! Each of us received a big bowl of ice with numerous large prawns perched on the edge pointing to the middle--with their heads still on. They were large, red, and delicious and were probably caught in nearby waters. Then we had a beef course with wonderfully prepared potatoes, and this was followed by a dessert of crème brulé. I ate everything and loved every minute of this. Wine flowed easily, and a wonderful time was had by all.
Le Carlotta--Caen
The prawn appetizer sent us into orbit! Each of us received a bowl like this.
(I ate all the prawns and the seaweed, too.)
(I ate all the prawns and the seaweed, too.)
Then the main course was only incroyable, and after that came dessert!
(Steak covered with morels and potatoes)
Our group sat at the table by the bejeweled, sunflowered wall and mirror (I was on the bench facing the room).
To say this first dinner was wonderful is a huge understatement. What is even more remarkable is that it was the first of many such fine mealtime experiences. They were included in the tour, and I repeat--the price was reasonable for what we received. Roadscholar schedules its tours for the off-season and shops around carefully for hotels and restaurants; the result for us was very good indeed!
Then we walked back to the Hotel Moderne and turned in for the night. Streets in Caen had some foot traffic, but they were not as crowded or active in the evening as they would be later in cities farther south.
**** LANGUAGE COMMENT--My first use of French on the tour was with Louis, and that was nice, but encountering the lady on the street who gladly told us how to find William I's tomb was exciting. My French flowed nicely, and I understood her perfectly. Len Andrew was delighted that he was walking with someone who could communicate easily with the natives. Then Johanna Schuller turned out to be a French teacher who spoke français fluently. She and I could carry on a fine conversation. This was the beginning of my "busting loose" and speaking French almost without inhibition. I was getting back in touch with a higher, less constrained form of the language than teaching ever allowed. This harkened back to my UT days fifty years earlier when I learned to read French well and speak it reasonably well. Now, I did not hide my linguistic candle under a bushel but let it shine brightly.
