Paris Loves les Bébés

Two weeks ago The Bairn and I traveled from Edinburgh to my sister's house in Utah.  Alone.  It's a 19 hour journey and I was very apprehensive about traveling with a 6-week-old without help.  After the first security screening in Edinburgh, I threw away my liquids, deciding it wasn't worth the hassle and was dreading the rest of the trip, as I hadn't quite figured out how to carry my bag, my coat, and my baby at the same time while also managing boarding passes and passports.  Fortunately, a very nice man offered us assistance as we were awkwardly boarding the plane and for the rest of the trip we always had fellow travelers offering to hold the baby or to retrieve my bag from the overhead compartment or to help me get my coat on while I juggled The Bairn. 

I don't have a lot of nice things to say about the Charles De Gaulle Airport, but their staff LOVE babies and were so helpful.  After I went through security there, someone took my belongings to a table so I could put myself back together more easily, and the surly-looking security officer at the table held out his arms and gave me the upward chin nod that means, Hand over that sweet lump of baby.  I gave him The Bairn to hold while I put on my shoes and coat, and he chattered away to him in French until I was ready to go.

The Bairn was an EXCELLENT traveler.  He only had one small screaming fit, which was cut short when a grandmother across the aisle snatched him up, wrapped him in a blanket, stuffed a pacifier in his mouth, and took off down the length of the plane with him.  She brought him back asleep a few minutes later.

Yesterday we flew to Tennessee with my parents.  Salt Lake does not love the babies so well.  Maybe there are too many of them there.  The Bairn traveled very nicely again and woke up full of good cheer this morning in his cradle.  He is the best good baby that ever was.

Sweden: Pictures without People Edition

Inside Marstrand Fortress.

View from the fortress.

Not very old castle.

Scenery around the not very old castle.

I found these flowers at the botanical garden very interesting.

This is the port at a little island in the archipelago.  See all the wheelbarrows for people to take home the shopping they bring back on the ferry?

Sad metal dog.

Church near Marstrand Fortress.

Ireland (Northern and Republic of)

Steve's parents very kindly took us to Ireland for the weekend. We rode trains and a ferry to Belfast and then drove to the Republic of Ireland.

Our first night in Belfast we were upgraded to the penthouse. It's remarkably hard to photograph a penthouse. There are too many windows and funky lights and reflections from the sea views out the balconies. So here, showing nothing of the beauty of our accommodation, I give you Steve Flinging Socks over Shoulder in Penthouse.

That there is an Ulster flag. We drove through a neighborhood completely covered in Ulster flags in Belfast. It's also hard to take photos out of car windows.

I'm sitting on a cow bench at a gas station near Newgrange, a prehistoric World Heritage site. It's also difficult for me to open my eyes in photographs. I always look squidgy/squinty in snapshots. I should maybe not post them on the Internet.

The gas station had a hippo rubbish bin. I love hippos.

A tomb at the Rock of Cashel. The Rock of Cashel was a seat of political power starting in the 4th or 5th century A.D. and then became a religious center in 1101. It's a massive ruin, which I forced everyone to visit on Saturday.

I'm standing inside the cathedral at the Rock of Cashel. St. Patrick visited the site, but of course there was no cathedral there at that time.

Steve always finds the best stuff. He noticed this plaque on the wall of an apartment building in Dublin. At first we thought that the owner of the flat had put it up, which I thought was extra super awesome. It turns out that it is actually part of a public art project near St. Patrick's Cathedral. There are a number of plaques with excerpts from interviews with local residents that were recorded as part of a revitalization project.

We never found the leprechaun museum. Sad, sad.

It was sunny almost the entire weekend, but it got cold in Scotland while we were gone. We could see our breath at the train station on the way home, so I made Steve puff and puff while I tried to photograph his breath. You can see it hovering over the train board. I need to get out my long underwear.

My favorite Nova Scotian activities:

1.Going to the beach. I have determined that I need a pair of water shoes so I can go in the water and not worry about stepping on sea creatures and floaty sea bits that give me the creeps.

We visited the beach near the cottage on Friday with Steve's sister and her family. Cali loves building sandcastles.

Lexi

This is the only picture of me at the beach. It is not charming.

2.Attending community events. Yesterday was Harbourfest. We made off with bargains from the church yard sale, listened to banjo music, and rode on the Strawberry Go Round with Cali. Steve and Cali both worked very hard at spinning the strawberry. I was no help at all as I was snapping pictures.

Steve is the best at spinning the strawberry,

but Cali's not a slacker either.

3.Buying bakery bread. Steve's uncle sent us home with five jars of homemade jams and jellies one day, which I use at every possible opportunity because they are tasty. They are especially good on loaves of bakery bread, which are less expensive and more delicious than grocery store bread. In a pinch, the jams are also a treat in yogurt and oatmeal and on graham crackers, triscuits and spoons.

4.Obtaining a library card. I drove to the nearest town with a library (former home of giantess Anna Swan) a few days ago and requested a library card. I filled out an application and then the man gave me a card without requiring any form of identification or residency proof. A-MA-zing. The library is very small, like a library intended for garden gnomes, but it's a county system so I can still get my hands on Salt by Mark Kurlansky, which I must read ASAP because I just finished his book Cod and have determined that he is a brilliant writer as he made fish the most interesting topic for hundreds of pages, which is quite a feat. THEN yesterday we visited a library in a different county and they also gave me a free library card. Shazam!

My least favorite Nova Scotian activity:
1.Finding insects in my underwear. The cottage is still in a state of construction and it's located in the middle of the woods, so the bugs are always with us. Sometimes I prevail against them in our daily battles and sometimes they prevail against me.

Highlights of Luxembourg, Germany, and France

These were some of my favorite delights in Luxembourg, Germany, and France.

Is this not the most fantastic cathedral door panel you have ever seen? I'm assuming it's a depiction of David dancing before the Lord with his lyre. Check out the foot action! The angel-shaped door pull is also very pleasing.

The buildings in Oberammergau, Germany are painted with images. This building was covered in fairy tales. Here Hansel and Gretel are shoving the witch into the oven (just as she deserves).

A rock star awesome monument in Oberammergau.

A German maypole. They're better with the little, dangly, elven figures attached.

We drove from Germany to Calais through northern France on the back roads to avoid the high tolls on the motorway. The rows of trees along the French secondary roads were lovely.

The back roads took us through WWI battle areas--the Argonne and Somme Valleys--and we stopped at 3 or 4 cemeteries. This one was full of Commonwealth graves for unknown soldiers. The markers were inscribed for "A Soldier of the Great War" at the top and "Known Unto God" at the bottom. It was a little bit heartbreaking.

Checking Off Another World Heritage Site

On our way from Germany back to the UK, I planned our route through France so that we could visit a few World Heritage sites. Some of them were better than others. For example, the citadel in Arras is part of the Fortifications of Vauban, but when we got there we found that it is still very much a working military installation and it did not appear friendly to visitors.

Notre Dame de Reims, the former coronation site of French kings, however, was lovely.

There's currently restoration work being completed at the cathedral. The statues on the right side of this photo have been cleaned. The ones on the left have not.

I love this detail. The scene is part of a larger carving depicting the Last Judgment. This is a demon leading chained up sinners down to hell.

These are the rose windows as seen from inside the cathedral.

Chagall windows!

The woman in green on the right is Mary. Beautiful!

Welcome to France, Buffalo Bill

France is known for its excellent cuisine. I love their bread and cheese and I went all weak-kneed at this patisserie window in Arras.


However, we never found a good, reasonably-priced French restaurant on this last trip.

One night we couldn't find any good restaurant options. We'd been driving all day and we were hungry and tired and every restaurant we checked was priced too high and only offered pub food or Chuck-a-Rama-like buffets anyway. We resorted to eating at a moderately-priced restaurant near our hotel, an "American" restaurant.

Don't judge us.



Our waiter wore a giant belt buckle and a bolo tie. Instead of being served bread before the meal, we were given a bowl of popcorn. Our placemats could be turned over to reveal special games that involved word searches and puzzles about the Wild West.

It was so sad.

And we were in France.


Fortunately, Germany totally came through for us on the food front. All of our meals there were so delicious.

Bunk Beds are Not Romantic

We spent the last week in Europe to help our friend Sue Anne move, which involved traveling through England, France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and Germany.

We spent our two nights in Germany at a secret, bird research facility. (Well, it may not be secret, but it is hidden away in the middle of a Bavarian forest and protected by security.)

We spent two nights in England at the beginning and end of our journey. The first night we stayed at a really delightful hotel.

The bed was fancy.



And the sitting area was fancy.



And the ceiling was fancy.



We thought of that British hotel fondly as we moved on to France and stayed at Mister Bed, the cheapest accommodation in the country.



Sometimes France is less romantic.