A Summing Up


The last croissant crumb has fallen from my lips, tastes of a memorable Duck Confit dimmed, and the final Paris memory is fading from my senior citizen mind. The trip is in the hard drive of history. It is time to sum up, to assess, and to try and reach some meaningful conclusions.

First, the trip was a ‘once in a lifetime’ adventure, and as such it was carrying a lot of emotional baggage; it had some heavy lifting to do. Fantasy almost never equals reality; that is why it is fantasy. This time I was fortunate and the trip rang the bell.

It was a long three months that allowed us to get lost in a foreign country and get found in a foreign culture. Our normal support structure was miles away and we built a new one. Full disclosure demands that I tell you I have been in love with Paris since 1983 when I first went there with a favorite cousin. I still consider it the most beautiful city in the world. Paris came through with room to spare.

At the heart of the Paris joyride were the people, they were always an inspiration. They were fun to watch and always surprising when we met. The Parisians have developed a way of living that is fun, gracious, and user friendly in a formal sort of way. They have a way with the moment.

The rude Parisian is a person I didn’t see. We Americans have helped create this myth of the French, probably born from insecurity and impatience. It was also helped along by a French government sometimes willing to bite the hand that fed it.

My return home surprised me with a culture shock that I did not see coming. Three months had seen me living in Paris and not visiting, my return only highlighted this. Part of me is still in Paris even when I am watching a 49er game.

I have been feeling dislocated. I had forgotten all the cable TV channel numbers, the TV commercials look so clever, but seem so fast and frantic. Our internal cruise control is working on a slower Paris speed.

Its is nice to get caught up on football but already I am tired of the player preening, the overly complex onscreen graphics including exploding things, quick cut camera looks, and sport as war nonsense. Its football for heavens sake not your life, it’s not your wife.

The good news: I missed most of the electioneering with the negative campaigns and pictures of the candidate’s smarmy families flashing toothy smiles at the camera. How about a snap of a candidate’s mistress and the incumbent’s favorite bartender for a change? That would get my attention and probably my vote as well.

I find myself a little dissatisfied with not having an adventure on my horizon; I am going to have to look into that. I have had a lot of fun with this blog and heartened by the responses from places I never expected. At the Station # 2 Christmas Party the girlfriend of the Big Oaf came over to introduce herself and tell me how much she enjoyed reading it. Who would have thought that Oaf would find a woman with such discriminating taste and cosmopolitan bearing?
But then, ……..he is a Murphy…………………..

From The Desk Of The Baroness

Almost 20 years ago I dreamed that I would live in Paris with a charming man, visit exquisite museums, eat at legendary restaurants, have an expresso in the sunshine at a famous cafe, read an international newspaper everyday and feel like a woman of the world. As I went along the way through life I did find a charming man who had a similar fantasy.

After retirement, a few surgeries, and the early death of a dear friend we adopted a new outlook. Under our new “if not now, when?” philosophy, 2006 was picked as the year for our adventure. We were finally going to live in Paris, not just visit Paris, but live in Paris. Little did I know what that really meant! One of the obstacles that existed was that neither Jim nor I spoke French. But timing is everything and a new class of beginning French was starting at our local Senior Center.

Jim reluctantly went into the “Vintage House” for the first time for our classes.; as it turned out we were the youngest students in the group! After 8 months of weekly classes we can report that we still do not speak French other than to say good morning, good evening, I don’t know, please, and thank you. I must confess these phrases actually go a long way in being polite to the French.

The first apartment we rented was in the 2nd arrondissement; it was sandwiched between a street lined with restaurants and food vendors and another street with gritty tattoo parlors and piercing salons. After 3 weeks, with relief and as planned, we moved to another apartment which was a half block from Luxembourg Gardens in the much more toney 6th arrondissement.

It didn’t take long after our arrival in Paris before our first serious problem popped up. We needed an electrician because the power in our apartment had gone out. To get help we had to contact the building manager by phone but that was no easy task because we didn’t understand their phone system. We ended up going down the block to an English pub where the English speaking Indian bartender called the property manager and explained in French what our problem was. It felt like a UN conference on how to solve the world’s problems.

Two months later, in our next apartment, Jim woke up to find water coming out of the light fixture in the kitchen. The apartment manager didn’t want to be bothered with a plumbing problem on a Saturday. Worse, we knew by then that it is impossible to get any help on a Sunday because almost everyone is at home with their family. Fortunately, our neighbor from down the hall speaks many languages and jumped in to help us. We don’t even know his name but he saved us more than once. Oh, the joys of actually living in a foreign city!

My French never improved during the three months so I would just fake it with a smile and a shrug of the shoulders. There were other little gems of information that we picked up over time that helped. A friend explained that waiters who appear to speak English often know only “restaurant English” but beyond that they are helpless carrying on a conversation in English. That piece of news made me feel much better about my own language skills. Another little tidbit I learned was that if you want to indicate the number “one” you use your thumb (the first finger on your hand). If you use your index finger you are just as likely to get two items because you are using the second finger on your hand. Make sense?

Since I have been back I have been asked frequently what I miss the most. I miss the bread and croissants from the bakery just below our apartment. When I got up at 4 in the morning to go to the bathroom I could smell the bread baking. Fortunately for our waistlines, our daily intake of pomme frites, crème brulee, and almond croissants has come to a screeching halt now that we are home.

I miss reading the International Herald Tribune everyday. It was not infrequently that you could read the first 4 or 5 pages of the paper before you came to an article about the United States. Their articles helped to expand my view of the events in Europe and elsewhere around the world.

I really miss our afternoon “café sits” where I would get a glass of wine, Jim a Perrier and we would settle in for serious people watching. The passing sights were wonderful theater! And I miss the walks through Luxemburg Gardens where the seasons turned from summer to late fall within a blink of an eye. It was our routine to watch the retirees place their bets on their Petanque game, then we would sit on a park bench with a sandwich for lunch before moving on to the tennis courts to view a full range of tennis skills, and wrap it up by the fountain where the little children floated their small sailboats when a whiff of wind came up.

Anyone who travels outside the United States asks themselves from time to time what they would do if they got seriously ill in a foreign country. In my case I ended up spending two nights at the American Hospital in Paris and continued to have contact with the medical community for the rest of the journey. What that did was force me, with my terrible French language skills, to move past the superficial level of visiting this city.

We had no choice but to interact with everyday Parisians constantly. By the time we were to leave Paris the café owner from downstairs would wave at us from across the street, our neighbor down the hall always stopped to chat, the technicians at the lab where they tested my blood greeted me with a smile, and the American proprietor of the Swan Jazz Bar made some type of pre-election political wisecrack to us every time we came in. I cannot tell you how consistently generous and gracious the French were throughout our trip.

Jim and I have always thought an adventure upon retirement is an important thing to do as a transition. For us it was the dream of living in Paris. Obviously we had trials and tribulations that happened along the way and times of frustration over daily living problems. Of course our fantasy did not play out as we had imagined in our mind’s eye but then that was part of the adventure.

Would I do it again? You bet! In a flash!

The French Laundry or Babes In Buyland

The following restaurant review was done by Colonel Denise Schultz, USAF Retired. Denise and her husband Tom had house sat for two months while we were in Paris. Enjoy…….


Well -- we had our ultimate Napa experience this weekend. About 3 weeks ago, we decided to try for a lunch reservation at the French Laundry (so-named as the building used to be an actual laundry), as it had just gotten it's 3rd star from Michelin -- and is listed by Gourmet Magazine as the third best restaurant in the country. After all, we had been to Berkeley's Chez Panisse (listed as the second best restaurant) twice in the past, and we considered ourselves quite sophisticated.

The reviews said that we needed to call at least 2 months in advance, but when we called that Monday, they agreed that we could come that Friday at 11:30. (We secretly wondered how good of a restaurant they could be if they could take us on such short notice.)

So, Friday morning (3 weeks ago), off we went to Yountville. We parked and walked around the restaurant's organic garden, then stopped at a lovely family winery (Jessup) and sampled a few until it was time for our reservation (they ‘comped’ us because we had been in the Air Force -- and their son was now in).

We walked the few blocks back, and the person greeting us at the door actually dropped her jaw upon seeing us. Indeed, the maitre 'd had no reservation for us -- had never heard of us -- and if we had talked to them on the phone, they would certainly have told us about the dress code, etc. (While we had "dressed up" a bit -- no tennis shoes, for example -- this being a California vacation spot in the middle of the afternoon, I was wearing good jeans, and Tom was wearing a sweater instead of a coat.)

Anyway, they were very sorry -- and surmised that we had been the recipients of a cruel joke by a man whose phone number was one digit off from the restaurant's -- and who had become so irritated lately at the wrong number calls that he had been giving reservations out.

We were amused and not upset at all -- (as we had already been wined at Jessup) -- and they told us about another restaurant they owned down the road -- a bistro named Bouchon. We were SO not upset that they decided to find us a reservation for another day -- and gave us an engraved invitation for Sunday (yesterday) at 11:45. We thanked them and went to Bouchon --which was FABULOUS!

Well -- last Friday, the French Laundry called us to confirm that we were indeed still coming on Sunday. We said certainly (or something similar in French). We awakened leisurely that morning, took a hot tub, and dressed in our finest. At the last minute, Tom said that just in case there was the odd computer snafu with the credit cards, we should take cash. So we took $250 (we had already resigned ourselves to this extravagance -- even though it was just lunch, and Chez Panisse was hovering at $80) -- and off we drove to the Napa Valley and Yountville.

We arrived -- and they were effusive in their delight that we had made it! Our table was lovely -- by the window -- and did we want sparkling water from Wales? Or perhaps mineral water from Ireland? Or even filtered ice water was available (no one on the west coast seems to use ice) --nothing was too much for us! We settled on filtered water and watched with some amusement as the large round table for 8 next to us filled up with doctors and their wives -- ordering champagne before they even sat down. We looked at our 2-page menu (which had cutely been clamped with a colored clothespin) -- so many courses with a choice between 2 items for each --but I swear I never registered a single item -- as all I saw in very fineprint at the bottom: fixe prixe: $210, service included.

Always trying to find the positive spin, I suggested to Tom that perhaps,since they were obviously taking such personal interest in each reservation in advance, that this price was for the two of us -- sort of our table charge (even as exorbitant as it seemed). Possible -- but maybe I'd just go back to where the maitre'd had met us and ask him.

So off I went – and inquired -- and absolutely, that was $210 per person -- unless you wanted the really good food, which would tack on another $30 per person -- and then of course, the wine. I told him that I was sorry, but that we would need to cancel our reservation, and perhaps they could go in and tell my husband that I needed to see him at the front door. They were fine about it, sputtering in French, but relieved that there wouldn't be any messiness.

So -- as we headed back to our Bistro Bouchon -- where we indulged in a spectacular meal again -- Tom told me that he'd opened the French Laundry wine list to find that the first entry was $4000 -- and the second one was $2000 -- and that there was nothing by the glass -- where upon I celebrated with TWO glasses at Bouchon.

We are relieved to find that we are still blue-collar Americans at heart-- we left with our dignity and wallet intact, the MDs left wallowing happily in expense account excess. Tom regrets lacking the moral courage to make some sort of stupid and futile gesture before stomping out in high dudgeon but, alas, the 60s have long since passed him by. We're Bammy-bound in less than 2 weeks.

Best wishes to All, Tom & Denise

The French Through My Eye




We have had hundreds of encounters with French people on this trip and in EVERY instance they have been warm, friendly, and engaging. This is not just waiters looking for a tip. Whether it was firemen inviting us in to see their rigs, merchant’s not taking advantage of our unfamiliarity with the currency, or a hundred instances large and small.

It has been interesting to see another political system that is very different from ours. It is socialism lite. The system works very well and there are a lot of advantages that it offers. The most startling observation is that I find myself constantly bombarded at home with ‘free market’ and pro- globalization propaganda, anti union, anti minimum wage, and yada- yada. Well the truth is that all of these things are alive and well here and their country is marching along and the sky is not falling in as I have been told it would.

It is just another political system with strengths and weaknesses. Its like football, there are a lot of ways to play; some people like ball control and others a bombs away approach. Pick your poison.

Civil service seems to be a bit more dynamic and doable here than at home. The government medical system seems like a dream compared to our near bankrupt health care system. The streets are clean, homeless almost non-existent, public transit a real viable network, and I could go on.

Obviously the other side of the ledger has its problems: prices that are very high (Sam Walton where are you?), taxes through the roof (Grover Norquist where are you?), and a financial system far from dynamic and agile (Alan Greenspan where are you?).

The French lifestyle is one of strong family bonds, communal interaction, and an enjoyment of the daily rituals of life they find meaningful. These rituals usually treasure quality over quantity. Own one good suit not four cheap ones, one demitasse of espresso not 3 cups of drip coffee, and one quality mistress not 5 one night stands.

Travel always expands and personalizes, it brings into sharper focus people we think we know but realize we had only known what we had been told by others. In the final analysis travel tells us more about ourselves and how we think and believe than it tells us about others. The voyage of discovery is really a trip within ourselves. But still, those croissants were stunning.

France - A Guide For USA Tourists


France is a medium-sized foreign country situated in the continent of Europe. It is an important member of the world community, though not nearly as important as it thinks. It is bounded by Germany, Spain, Switzerland and some smaller nations of no particular importance and with not very good shopping. France is a very old country with many treasures, such as the Louvre and EuroDisney. Among its contributions to western civilization are champagne, Camembert cheese and the guillotine.

Although France likes to think of itself as a modern nation, air conditioning is little used and it is next to impossible for Americans to get decent Mexican food.One continuing exasperation for American visitors is that local people insist on speaking in French, though many will speak English if shouted at.

THE PEOPLE France has a population of 57 million people. 52 million of these drink and smoke (the other 5 million are small children). All French people drive like lunatics, are dangerously oversexed, and have no concept of standing patiently on line. The French people are in general gloomy, temperamental, proud, arrogant, aloof and disciplined; those are their good points.

Most French citizens are Roman Catholic, though you would hardly guess it from their behavior. Many people are communists. Men sometimes have girls' names like Marie or Michel, and they kiss each other when they meet. American travelers are advised to travel in groups and wear baseball caps and colorful trousers for easier recognition.

SAFETY In general, France is a safe destination, although travelers must be aware that from time to time it is invaded by Germany. Traditionally, the French surrender immediately and, apart from a temporary shortage of Scotch whisky and increased difficulty in getting baseball scores and stock market prices, life for the American visitor generally goes on much as before. A tunnel connecting France to Britain beneath the English Channel has been opened in recent years to make it easier for the French government to flee to London during future German invasions.

HISTORY France was discovered by Charlemagne in the Dark Ages. Other important historical figures are Louis XIV, the Huguenots, Joan of Arc, Jacques Cousteau and Charles de Gaulle, who was President for many years and is now an airport.

GOVERNMENT The French form of government is democratic but noisy. Elections are held more or less continuously and always result in a draw. The French love administration so for government purposes the country is divided into regions, departments, districts, municipalities, towns, communes, villages, cafes, and telephone kiosks. Each of these has its own government and elections. Parliament consists of two chambers, the Upper and Lower, and whose members are either Gaullists or Communists, neither of whom should be trusted by the traveler.

Parliament's principal occupation is setting off atomic bombs in the south Pacific and acting indignant and surprised when other countries complain. According to the most current American state department intelligence, the President is now someone named Jacques. Further information is not available at this time.

CULTURE The French pride themselves on their culture, though it is not easy to see why. All their music sounds the same and they have never made a movie that you would want to watch for anything but the nude scenes.

CUISINE Let's face it, no matter how much garlic you put on it, a snail is just a slug with a shell on its back. Croissants on the other hand, are excellent, although it is impossible for most Americans to pronounce this word. In general, travelers are advised to stick to cheeseburgers.


ECONOMY France has a large and diversified economy, second only to Germany's in Europe, which is surprising because the French hardly work at all. If they are not spending four hours dawdling over lunch, they are on strike and blocking the roads with their trucks and tractors. France's principal exports, in order of importance to the economy, are wine, nuclear weapons, perfume, guided missiles, champagne, guns, grenade launchers, land mines, tanks, attack aircraft, miscellaneous armaments and cheese.

PUBLIC HOLIDAYS France has more holidays than any other nation in the world. Among its 361 national holidays are: 197 Saints' days, 37 National Liberation Days, 16 Declaration of Republic Days, 54 Return of Charles de Gaulle in triumph as if he won the war single-handed Days, 18 Napoleon sent into Exile Days, 17 Napoleon Called Back from Exile Days, and 2 "France is Great and the Rest of the World Sucks" Days.

CONCLUSION At least it's not Germany