Paris

Aug. 15 We made it, and best of all, so did the bike. One person at O'Hare asked what was in those boxes, and especially, were there any liquids. Robb thought it was a ridiculous question, most of all because they don't ask that question of people who check regular luggage. Anyway - they heaved them onto the belt and sent them through. On the other end, we spent an anxious time waiting for them to appear. Finally they were wheeled out in solitary splendor on a separate trolley, safe and sound with the exception of one small "pimple" poked slightly out from inside by an axle. Everything appears safe and sound, so now we can anticipate the next stage of our private Tour de France.

Paris skies seep.
We walk through sodden streets
To closed museums.

It is seriously raining in Paris, which is a sea of umbrellas capping an eclectic assortment of clothing and languages--it made me think of that impressionist painting of Paris in the rain (whose was it, again?). The Parisians may not be here, but plenty of other people are. This afternoon we hiked under our own umbrellas through the Ile St. Louis to the Right Bank, only to find that, today being the Feast of the Assumption - and this being a largely Catholic country - our target museum was shut up tight. Back to Notre Dame for another surprise. Not the normal Sunday afternoon free organ concert but a huge mass piped through earthshaking speakers to the square in front, masses of people under umbrellas waiting in lines (for what?) or just milling around. It was that kind of day, a milling around day with everyone trying to find something to do in a sodden city with almost everything closed. Eventually, back near our Left Bank hotel, we were rewarded with the sight and sound of a procession of pilgrims (ordinary citizens, really, under ... well, you know ...). We ended the day in a tiny cafe feasting on a HUGE salad, HUGE sandwich, and a lip.smacking onion soup. Much more food than we expected, but so, so good after a tiring day!

Aug. 17 We succesfully reunited with the Kenamores. Their hard sided bike cases arrived intact although TSA opened them at O'Hare and failed to close one correctly. So this morning Bruce, with the aid of The Horse (his nickname for Robb), managed to wrestle it closed; all is well. Until tomorrow anyway when we take on our next leg, train to Orleans, cab to rental van (will it really be big enough - R worries...), van to bike shop (will they store our bike cases for 3 weeks?), and on to destination Blois.

Great walking tour of Montmartre yesterday! Young John Paul, guide, was from St. Louis, specifically from where Jane and Bruce grew up, so much comparing of notes about that. Really enjoyed the many anecdotes about famous artists who lived, drank, smoked, ingested various other mind-altering substances, and slept their way through short but super-creative lives. Few seem to have survived through their 30s, a notable exception being Picasso, who lived in a closet of a place in Montmarte for 8 impoverished years. His obsession with art must have outweighed the potential for addiction. Although he certainly indulged the id along with the ego!

Today we did the one thing that Jane wanted to do: go to the map store. This is an amazing place! The ground floor is full of guidebooks for every country you could name; the basement is nothing but maps, including one whole room of nothing but maps of France. Every square meter of France is in a map in that room, at a scale of 1:25,000, all topographic from the French Academy of Geography. I wish we had stores like that in the U.S.

A note about bicycles: the much touted Velib program is much in evidence. Stands of as many as 20 bikes, perhaps more, each attached to its own post, are conveniently located here on the Left Bank, home of the Sorbonne. The bikes are sturdy, with front wire baskets and fenders front and back, all one speed. They have to be sturdy! We just witnessed a young man kicking the seat handle repeatedly to loosen it when he couldn't manage to twist it by hand. Just needed to adjust it to his height. There are marked bike lanes along the river, and elsewhere. Curiously, lanes in very narrow streets in Montmarte had bikes going OPPOSITE the traffic. Strange!

No one can arrange a scarf like a Parisian woman......

The weather teases with a taste of sun before retreating to gray. Although the rain is mostly gone. John Paul said: August 15, Feast of the Assumption, is something of a French groundhog day. That is to say: the weather that day predicts with considerable accuracy the weather for the rest of summer. Not good news! That would mean cool, gray or even rainy weather ahead! Cool for biking: OK. Gray for biking: tolerable. Rain for biking: Non!