Tag: French Sabbatical

I didn’t bring a lot of clothes with me to France, having used my allotted suitcase space for more important things like books, two bags of peppermint Lifesavers, my laptop (complete with a stand, full-sized keyboard, mouse & mouse pad), external hard drives with my music & video libraries, cables to plug my laptop into the large screen TV I knew we had here in our Nantes home, and, as Melinda likes to point out, enough down pillows for five people.

Oh, on the subject of my pillows, Melinda claims they robbed her of space for her winter coat. In my defense I asked her to consider which is more useful. I mean I use my pillows year-round. Winter coats? They’re just used in the, well, winter, right? The argument that Melinda is cold year-round is irrelevant to my point. They’re still called winter coats, even when you wear one in July. Statements like, “Melinda, why are you wearing your winter coat in July?” or, “Melinda, that’s a nice winter coat you put on for Bastille Day” are beside the point.

Speaking of beside the point. So was that last paragraph.

The point is that Melinda and Chloe took me clothes shopping today after we had lunch at an Indian food restaurant. And just let me say how odd it is to order Indian food in French. But expanding on that would just create another “beside the point” paragraph so let me get back to the point.

Which is…

Chloe and Melinda have been telling me that the one pair of jeans I brought, the pair with paint stains on the leg, and the pair of heavy work pants Melinda got me just before we left are not diverse enough for the fine styles of France. So now I have a new pair of jeans, a pair of fancy pants, two sweaters and a scarf. That’s me in the dressing room, caught by Chloe trying on a sweater. Oops, I gotta run. I think I hear GQ at the door…

I was sitting quietly next to the fountain in Nantes today, about to open my book to do some reading in the crisp autumn air. This young man approached me and began talking to me in French. He was talking very fast and the water flowing from the fountain made it hard to hear him so I understood very little of what he was saying (nothing about mirrors, I’ll tell you that). But I let him finish before telling him in my broken French that I didn’t speak much French. He replied in his broken English that he didn’t speak much English. And from that point on, he tried his English and I tried my French.

The short of it is this. Those yummy little LU cookies that you can find all over the world originated in Nantes. The company has started selling some new varieties and this young man (and several other people dressed like him) were giving out samples today. He explained the different varieties and offered me one, whereupon I asked him for his favorite. It is one of the classic chocolate LU cookies but with hazelnuts added to the chocolate. I accepted one and asked if I could take his picture for my family and friends back home. This is his pose.

The cookie, by the way, was delicious. He gave me a coupon for .30€ off a box at any of the large grocery stores in town. So I figure I’ll soon be pulling my “chariot” to Leclerc out at the end of Line 2 to get a box.

Meet Melinda and Andy. That’s Melinda on the left, Andy on the right. As you can see, Melinda has quite the design flair, perhaps a certain elegance. Andy is not at all flashy, clearly plain but useful.

These are our “chariots,” or what we thought were called “chariots” until last night. They are used here in France by shoppers, mostly those who walk to and from the grocery store. You take your chariot to the store, check it somewhere while you shop, and when finished fill it with your purchased groceries. Then you head back home, pulling it behind you. We bought “Andy” soon after arriving in Nantes at one of those Fred Meyer-like stores. “Melinda” was purchased a week or two later at Ikea. I think you are getting the picture.

So last night we had dinner with our next door neighbors, Philippe and Cécile and their four children. The evening began with snacks and drinks in their living room, complete with conversation in both French and English. We learned, through a lot of laughter, that these “chariots” are used more by the elderly than anyone else, which got me feeling a bit, shall we say, more mature. Being “young” or at least “young at heart,” our neighbors couldn’t remember the name for what we had been calling our “chariots” but pointed out that a chariot is really a shopping cart. They tactfully pointed out that what we had is not something used by those our age and then proceeded to offer to drive us to the grocery store or even loan us their car. It was very sweet and kind.

After snacks and drinks last night, Philippe and Cécile treated us to a game of bowling at a nearby alley and then Chinese food at a nearby restaurant. This is another example of the kindness we’ve been shown since arriving in France.

Meanwhile, I still like my “chariot” and trips on the tram with it. Now I’ll better understand any muffled laughter I might hear. Maybe this qualifies me for membership in AARP and a discount at the movies?

Melinda and I grabbed the tram early this afternoon, thinking we’d head into town where Line 2 meets Line 1 and ride out to some of the shops at the end of Line 1. But as we neared the center of town, we saw a bunch of tables set up along the river with various things for sale on them. It was a French flea market! We hopped off and spent about 45 minutes looking. We discovered tables were set up on both sides of the river so we crossed over to the other side and looked there, too. Melinda bought a fancy old necklace for 3 Euros.

After looking through the flea market, we split a sandwich and got on Line 3 of the tram, riding it out to its far end, seeing places we had not seen before. Line 3 is the newest of the trams and it shows. Both the tracks and the trams themselves are pretty slick, quite modern. After getting off at the end of the line, we only had to wait a few minutes to start the ride back.

On our way back home we stopped off again in the center of town and followed the sound of a band playing. I swear, it was the perfect music for a Saturday in September. It sounded like a college band rallying the fans at a football game. We found the band, all dressed in pink shirts in front of the famous fountain at the Place Royale in Nantes. Next to the band was a huge tent with people giving out juice and pastries. I had a chocolate filled donut (or as we’ve come to say, “Pastry to the waistry.”).

It’s been that kind of Saturday. It’s chilly but sunny. Next up, we’re heading to dinner at the next door neighbor’s. A perfect weekend day.

Melinda helped Marie-Pierre and Martine catch their train early this afternoon, learning from Marie-Pierre that “one does not wait for a train, one catches a train.” This lesson was imparted to Melinda in French, too, both literally and in practice. You see, they hustled out of the house a little after noon to “catch” a 12:50 train for southern France. They made it with time to spare (“seconds” is time after all).

Today’s photo was taken as Melinda and I rode the escalator at Leclerc, a large grocery store just outside of the Nantes city limits and the end of Line 2 on the tram. I compare it to Fred Meyer. Chloe says it’s more like Walmart. Either way, I’m sure you get the picture. It’s big.

Anyway, we took the tram to Leclerc with our two “chariots” (wheeled bags for carrying large quantities of groceries) to stock up on some things. Most importantly, we are entertaining John’s family tonight and decided to make tacos. Given there are two teenaged boys in the mix, we were a little unsure how much food to prepare. On one hand, most French dinners are much smaller than American dinners. On the other hand, we are feeding tacos to two teenage boys (and two parents and a sweet sister who, by the way, we saw as we got off the tram, she on her way to basketball practice!).

I think we’re all glad it’s Friday here, which means we can sleep in a little later tomorrow. I think this is especially true for Ella.

For the second time this month, today workers all over for France went on a one day strike. They are rallying against a government plan to up the retirement age from 60 to 62. As I understand it, the age was lowered to 60 several years ago and moving it up again is seen by many to be unjust. French president Nicolas Sarkozy says the age needs to be readjusted due to the economic situation in France.

The impact of these strikes can be pretty significant, which is the point, after all. They greatly impact public transportation in the country, nearly half of all the flights out of Paris were grounded, and many public schools shut down. In our case, I walked with Ella to school (and home again) because the number of trams running was greatly reduced. Chloe, too, had to scurry to get to and from school today. On top of that, our garbage wasn’t picked up and of great significance to me, and as I’m attempting to show you in today’s photo, the library branches were all closed. If you look carefully you can see me in the library door’s reflection, on which was taped a sign that read, “En raison d’un mouvement de grève national, tous les établissements du réseau de la Bibliothèque municipale seront fermés ce jour.”

Translation: Due to the national strike, all public library branches will be closed today.

On a happy note, we are pleased to be entertaining longtime Shaw family friends Marie-Pierre Koban and her daughter Martine from Seattle. Melinda grew up with Martine and took her first French lessons from Marie-Pierre, who is French but has lived in Seattle for years. They are in France visiting relatives and made a sojourn to Nantes to say hi.

Most school-age children in Nantes have a half day of school on Wednesdays, meaning Ella is home just after noon. You’ll recall that last Wednesday we used the early afternoon to find the ultimate American cheeseburger, and even discussed returning to the Burger House for another today. But we decided instead to go for a long walk in the direction of the end of Line 2 of the tram, walking on dirt trails and through a lovely neighborhood. We got a simple lunch and then wandered over to where we could catch the tram back home. As we waited I started taking pictures.

Among the many pictures I took is this one of Ella at the tram stop. Both buses and trams use it, so there are more places for people to wait. But what’s striking are these very interesting seats, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before at a bus stop or train station. They’re like tiny isolation booths that cause your voice to echo when you speak. I was reminded of the “Cone of Silence” from the classic TV show “Get Smart” (one of my favorites, as you might recall). Do you see how she’s enclosed in glass? I’m sitting in one and Ella is sitting in one across from me.

Once on the tram I took a few more pictures and then we passed my favorite library. Just past that there is a little two-day circus going on. From the tram we saw a few ostriches and some miniature horses grazing. This may cause you to wonder what we actually ate for lunch, I know. Cone of Silence, Ostriches, Miniature Horses. I didn’t even mention the ghost that showed up in one of the pictures!

Today’s photo was taken by Melinda less than an hour ago. It’s 80 degrees here in Nantes today with a picture perfect blue sky. I’ve spent the last couple of hours by and in the pool. At one point Melinda looked over and said to me, “Do we deserve this?”

We decided the answer was yes, in case you were wondering, although that does involve pinching ourselves every now and then.

I’ve mentioned that I’m intending to read all of Kurt Vonnegut’s novels while on sabbatical. I’ve nearly finished my fifth, Slapstick, and yesterday ordered two more from Amazon.co.uk. I think I may run out of Vonnegut novels… Days like this by the pool find me reading pretty fast.

Anyway, it’s been a lovely, lovely day, with more still to come. I’m about to head over to John’s house, the Scotsman who lives nearby and treated us to a wonderful dinner a couple of Saturdays ago. John wants to explain the game of Snooker to me. There is a championship of some kind being televised and he has a table. Then tonight after work, Frédérique and Laurent are coming over for a late evening swim and light dinner. And in short order the neighborhood children, including Ella, will be getting home from school. I’ve left the pool open for them.

Oh, I’ve been having a great time facilitating my three online kindness classes. I’m getting new “friends” on Facebook because of it and just started an email exchange with an English teacher in Belgium who wants to use the Practice of Kindness class with his ESL students. Fun stuff!

One minute the tram can be packed with so many people that you can hardly squeeze on, and once on you’re not sure you can get off. The next minute it’s empty. There is a reason for this though.

We live toward the northern end of Line 2. As you’d expect, the further out you get, the less people are on the tram. And the closer you get to the schools, the more students pack it. We are two stops away from the University of Nantes, and five stops away from Ella’s school, which is a large one for middle & high schoolers. So there are lots of young people filling the tram in the morning, at lunch, and in the late afternoon. And like I said, the closer you get to the schools, the more people.

It’s fun to ride during these times and experience the hustle-bustle so quickly balanced by the serenity. On Mondays Ella comes home for lunch, hustle-bustle. Today Melinda and I rode the tram back to school with her, squeezing on like sardines. Then we caught the tram in the other direction at her school, packed with university students on their way back from lunch. I took this picture after practically everyone had gotten off, obviously, one stop short of the end of the line (where there’s an organic grocery store Melinda & I visited).

You’ll notice what a beautiful day it is in Nantes. In fact, I just got out of the pool! It’s supposed to be in the low 80’s on Wednesday. Take that, Seattle.

Not that I’m gloating…

I began the weekend watching cartoons and eating Frosted Flakes. And I ended it learning something about the incredible history of Nantes. In case you didn’t recognize it, that’s quite a contrast. Perhaps I am becoming more cultured (although that does make me sound a bit like yogurt or something better suited for a petri dish).

Yesterday Laurent and Frédérique emailed to ask if we wanted to head into town with them today to participate in “Les Journées du patrimoine” (what Google translates as Heritage Days). They sent us a link of activities and suggested we look it over and select some that interested us. This proposal ended up being more difficult than it sounds so we tossed it back to them to choose, which they did. They picked us up in the Taxi Boudeau and off we went.

Today’s photo was taken inside the Cercle Cambronne, specifically one of its reception rooms which has been kept faithful to the way it looked in the 18th century when it was part the apartments of General Pierre Cambronne who fought with Napoléon (and is mentioned, I believe in Les Misérables!). Melinda and Frédérique may be pointing the way to the exit, telling me to leave because I was taking too many pictures or something.

We waited in line for an hour to get in and then listened to the history of the apartments, moving from room to room. Melinda was completely transfixed, understanding most of the French being spoken. Me, I learned that there is something significant about the mirrors. My problem is that as soon as I understand something being said in French I start getting all self-congratulatory. I’m so busy being proud of myself that I forget to listen to what else is being said. So once I was able to translate the word mirror, I was too busy doing internal cartwheels to know what made them so special.

Hmmm… I wonder if I do that in English.