A Short Walk and an Evening with Neighbors

We must stop having wine with lunch. A nap always follows. Didier serves a Château De Carolle. Eventually he modifies the bottle to read Château De Carol and jokes that we've come to France and purchased a chateau. 

At the market we purchased this butter. It is more yellow than the picture shows. It is rich and tasty, far more so than store butter. There is a oiseau (bird) imprinted.

We will have a crab dish at dinner. We are cooking two huge crabs.

The house is prepared to receive guests. Before their arrival, we take the electric car to the Plougonvelin waterfront to dump the garbage at the collection station, the poubelle. We take a walk. We can see the fort in the distance. When we arrived at this fort the first day, CJ knew we had driven to far.

We love the architecture along the waterfront.

The neighbors, Jean-Jacques and Nomi arrive about quarter past seven. Jocelyne's friend Isabelle and her navy fiancé, Jeff, arrive within 15 minutes.

Champagne is served with a string of appetizers.

Dinner is a multi-course affair of crab cocktail, roast chicken, CJ's selection of cheeses, and a pavlova.

We share the Australian Honey Malt Liquor with them along with Mirabelle made by Didier's father a half century ago.

The party breaks up when 83-year-old Jean Jacques decides to retire. It is after two. 

I

Let's Have a Walk

A morning walk is proposed. We travel to Pointe Saint-Mathieu for the first walk. CJ has been to this place many times, Carol fewer times. We have often toured the ruins of the abbey, toured the small fort, and dined at the fine restaurant either by choice or as business guests.

In our many visits somehow, we never discovered the small chapel.

The inscription is neither in Latin or French. It is in Bretton.

It is a very windy day. The best indication: the buoy.

This phare (lighthouses) of Brittany are renown. One of them is here.

The abbey ruins always excite. It is said, the head of Saint Mathew was held at this location.

Our next walk is along the coast in nearby Le Conquet.

With rain threatening, we seek refuge at the remodeled St. Barbe restaurant and hotel and enjoy a drink while the squall passes. This place holds many memories. At his first corporate dinner, CJ was introduced to Plateau Fruit de Mer, a literal mountain of fresh and mostly raw seafood: lobster, shrimp, snails, clams, oysters, and bigorneaux (periwinkle). Five years and many corporate and private dinners later, the Thomson team feted CJ's departure here.

The rains move in again and we spend a lazy day at the house.

Joelle

Once a week, Jocelyne's mother comes for lunch. Today we welcome her. We have known her as long as we have known Didier and Jocelyne. Our first memory is dancing the can can after Christmas dinner with Joelle and Yves.

Joelle is now 90. She remains sharp and very witty. Her favorite wine is Chateaneuf du Pape. CJ has saved half of last evening's magnum for her lunch.

During lunch, Joelle regales us with tales of her memories of a ten-year-old girl living through the German occupation.

To Brest

The TGV departs on time at 0959, to the second! The ride is comfortable and once in Brest we are soon have a rental car, if not the Peugeot we reserved, and on the way to Didier's house. Somehow, in the process of attempting to pair CJ's phone with the car, the phone goes missing and we have not GPS.

CJ spent much time in Brest and navigates us to their village to the far west of Brest. We discover we've overshot. Finding the phone beneath the seat, GPS quickly delivers us.

The first evening is magical. We have been close friends for 35 years and shared many family experiences. Old experiences are relived. New experiences shared. 

Didier and Jocelyne have a dance class for an hour. They return and give us a demonstration.

Wine, cheese, and longtime friends

It is a rainy day. We do nothing until departing for our social event on the other side of Paris.

The taxi makes it 90% of the way in about 15 minutes. The last 10% takes a half hour and makes us late. As we are exiting the taxi at Printemps, CJ answers his watch. It is the evening's host, Valerie, asking if we are coming. She is holding the start for us!

We arrive to a cocktail party with a great view.

Attendees are surprisingly about 40% English speaking with at least two couples from Adelaide. We arrive to this starter plate of cheeses and accompaniments. 

Valerie and Laurent take turns presenting. Laurent speaks in French, Valerie translates to English. When Valerie speaks, she speaks in French and her assistant from Adelaide, the woman standing next to the door, translates to French.

They open by promising many surprises and they deliver. One is a young French cheese monger currently in Australia teaching cheese making. Others are servings of cheeses not on the plate such as fondue on a stick. Another is this lady. She is a distiller from South Australia and arrives with an incredible honey liquor. How good is it? She has one extra bottle and we purchase it to take and share with Didier.

Another surprise is the young woman seated at the adjacent table. She was the winner of the best pastry chef in France award. Her business is in this same building and we end we one of her incredible creations.

The event was billed at 5-7. Our taxi caused it to start fifteen minutes late. It runs delightfully long. They wrap up at eight mainly because the building closes at eight.

We thought we would need to waste time to arrive at the home of Clarisse and George at 8:15. Between the meeting running long and traffic, we are late arriving.

We spend two marvelous hours with them in their home on Rue Charles de Gaulle. They update us on their little children. Gabrielle, their youngest, is now 19 and at university. Blanche and Paul both grown with jobs. When we first met Clarisse, she wasn't yet married.

Off to Paris

Except for heavy turbulence over the Indian Ocean between Australia and India, we enjoy the 13-hour flight from Adelaide to Doha.

In Doha, the plane is ramp parked and we're offloaded via a scissor-lift portable lounge onto an awaiting bus.

We wish we had arrived in daylight. We cannot understand why the bus ride to the terminal was so long. Once inside the terminal, we cannot understand why the cart ride to security screening just below the lounge is as long and circuitous as it is.

We arrive in Paris after a short but interesting 6.5-hour flight from Doha.

Last year we flew over Shiraz, Iran and avoided Iraqi airspace. This year we fly up the middle of Iraq following the Tigres River passing over Basra, Bagdad, Falluja, Mosel, and other famous Iraqi bad guy places.

We arrive to rain in Paris. A 60 Euro taxi delivers us to the hotel.

This begins a 46-day Odessey mixing visits with friends and family with reviving younger memories in Dayton and Detroit and an adventure worthy of Lewis and Clark on the Snake and Columbia Rivers.