Back to Spain and France: Where'd My Mojo Go?

Up WAY too early - our flight departed around 8:30, and we still had to be at the airport a few hours beforehand, despite everybody having formally checked in yesterday. It was tough sleeping last night, because the room was HOT - it was cold and rainy outside, but the window wouldn't stay open, so air circulation was poor. Plus - the couple next door was pretty drunk and yapping pretty loudly until very late. Luckily, there's nothing to do today, since it's a travel day, and it's a bonus day that shouldn't have even happened.

Breakfast was a bit odd - some good croissants (it's tough to find a truly bad one in France), OJ, coffee, butter, preserves, etc. But it was the baguette that was strange, or more so the manner in which it was served - a bunch of them placed on the tables, so people were ripping off chunks for themselves. I hope that everybody washed their hands before eating! Dirty or not, the baguette was really good, crusty and chewy. I just hope the crustiness was because of the crust, and not because of poor hygiene practices of the fellow guests that handled the bread before me.

Off to the airport - not the usual sad feeling that happens when going home, probably because those feelings got out of my system yesterday, when I thought I was leaving. The airport was dead being so early, and I wasn't sure why we needed to check in more than two hours before the flight, given that we all arrived by buses, more or less at the same time. A small terminal, there wasn't much to walk around and see. Beyond some duty-free shopping, this morning's activities consisted of plonking down on a bench and trying to catch some sleep.

I don't remember much of what transpired on the plane, but can guess that it involved some bad food, mediocre movies, and cramped legs. I do remember some horrific headphones given out by the flight attendants - the kind that fit inside of your ears, they were PAINFUL!!! Circular but for some unfathomable reason, with a tapered point that was quite sharp, it scratched the inside of the ears. And they were huge! Who's got big enough earholes to accommodate these??? Were these headphones designed for Dumbo the elephant??? Or Mickey Mouse? Why???

Perhaps it was the distraction of the pain in my ears, but the flight seemed to pass by very quickly. Towards the end of the flight, I realized that the engaged "couple" from last night had spent quite a bit of time together on the flight. Hmmm ... wouldn't it be funny if they actually ended up together after that charade? Stranger things have happened ... perhaps an obstacle is that the flight was continuing on to Vancouver, where she was from, and he was getting off in Calgary. It's only a short flight between the two cities, so who knows! If I was a millionaire, I'd fly to Spain just to have a cafe con leche and do some Spanish senorita watching, so a one hour flight to Vancouver pales in comparison. Of course, if I was a millionaire, I'd probably be retired in Spain, wiling away the days drinking cafe con leche ... and Spanish senorita watching ...

The next thing you knew, we were back in sunny Calgary. For all my desire to travel and be elsewhere, Calgary still has a certain charm to it and for now, it is still home. Having a new place to live in definitely is something to look forward to, as is the lifestyle change that will perhaps go with it. But I am definitely NOT looking forward to unpacking all those boxes, organizing everything, and buying all new furniture. Maybe selling everything I had wasn't such a great idea, after all!

So this ends another trip, another great experience, that was wonderful for perhaps different reasons than previous trips. France was memorable, but probably more for the time spent in Sarlat, and the copious amounts of pastries consumed, than anything else. I don't have too much desire to return to Normandy, and have much less desire to return to Amboise.

Toulouse merits a return visit, not really for its sights, but to enjoy the buzz and lifestyle. I thought it was funny that Naoual mentioned Toulouse as being a city she could live in, because I wholeheartedly agree. It's one of those fairly rare places that would be more fun to live in, rather than visit - big enough to have a nice buzz, but not too big. Plus, with the beautiful south of France weather, beautiful French women who look a bit Spanish, beautiful French food, and the beautiful French language, what's not to like?

And of course, Spain ... what can I say about this country that I haven't already said a hundred times before? I've run out of superlatives years ago, and it's quite possible that such superlatives don't even exist to adequately describe this phenomenal country. I'm no longer sure if this overwhelming desire to travel is actually about seeing the world, or if it's about always needing to return to Spain or countries that share similarities with Spain. Seeing the world may only be a byproduct of this, albeit a very nice one.

Who knows ... but whatever the reason truly is, it still results in some beautiful and incredible moments. Whatever it is that I seem to be needing, whatever it is that I am lacking, it's usually out there while I am traveling, and is present everywhere in Spain - it's the land of infinite mojo! And yes, the senoritas are still by far Spain's largest draw, but there is just something about that country that calls to me. Perhaps it's the voices of millions of Spanish women seemingly chanting in unison, in a manner redolent of such impossibly cute Spanish sweetness ... but it could also be that being in Spain assuages that voice inside that sometimes murmurs "You're still not living the life you were meant to live."

So what might that life be? I still haven't figured that out, but it likely involves drinking lots of cafe con leche, basking in the Spanish sun, continuing to improve my Spanish, and with that, continuing to improve my chances with the senoritas This past trip to Spain was the longest since my first visit there, and it was incredible. It was the first time I've really been fully immersed in the language, with no need to speak even a single word of English, though it was only for the first week of the trip. I'm still merely a tourist in Spain, but this time it felt like ... home ... like I'd finally made a connection with the people. It really makes me wonder ... what would it be like to live here? I've always toyed with the idea, but as more of a joke than anything else.

Perhaps it's time to seriously entertain the thought, especially since I've now discovered so many great places up north. I've always known that I would love living in Barcelona or San Sebastian, but now know that La Coruna or Santander would also be awesome places. It'll probably need to be somewhere close to the ocean, so any of the aforementioned cities would do ... proximity to beautiful Spanish senoritas is of course paramount, but that's a given anywhere in Spain. Living in Spain has always been just talk, so we'll see if it develops into anything more. Maybe next summer, it won't be another "Going to Spain" blog, but a "Moving to Spain" one.

So as always, the final blog entry needs to end off with a song that will forever be linked with that particular trip. Usually, the choice of song makes itself apparent at some point during the course of the trip, through an experience or epiphany. Other times, it isn't clear what the song will be until I return home, and have time to digest the experience. But this time, like last year, I knew what the song would be even before leaving the country. And also like last summer when there were two songs, it's also by ... Jimmy Eat World!

"I'm alone in this, I'm all as I've always been, Right behind what's happening" - those lyrics so perfectly describe that feeling of never knowing what's going on, and of always being one step behind everything. It's that feeling of realizing something a little too late, and going "Huh ... I wish I knew that beforehand ... " In a way, the name of the song is also fitting - because no matter what, some how, some way ... my heart will always be in Spain.

Always Be

Could've been a night like any other One of us has to drive One of us gets to think I'll force a laugh to break the silence It's gonna get harder still Before it gets easy You can't keep safe what wants to break

I'm alone in this I'm all as I've always been Right behind what's happening She's all lost in this She's a light she'll always be A little far for me to reach

I was just a boy like every other I thought I was something fierce I thought I was ten times smarter Love would be something that I just know (Something I just know) How you gonna know the feeling till you've lost it I've been losing plenty since

I'm alone in this I'm all as I've always been Right behind what's happening She's all lost in this She's a light she'll always be A little far for me to reach

Maybe something else I'm missing Something good and you're the reason It's a dream but there's a real world waiting

I'm alone in this I'm all as I've always been Right behind what's happening She's all lost in this She's a light she'll always be A little far for me to reach

I'm alone in this I'm all as I've always been Right behind what's happening She's all lost in this She's a light she'll always be A little far for me to reach

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The last day of the trip ... sigh ... like most other trips, it started the same way as other final days - with me crying and screaming like a little baby, and the hostel staff having to drag me out of bed and throw me out into the streets. Luckily for me, I was able to sneak back in and have some breakfast.

Crappy croissants, ok coffee, cereal, bread, etc ... nothing special, but enough to get the day going. Got in some final Spanish practice for the trip, sitting with a lady from Madrid and one from Argentina. They left shortly after I sat down, which seems to be a common occurrence with myself and Spanish-speaking women

A family from the UK took their places - a mother and her two teenage sons. Quite the well-traveled kids - one had been volunteering in Africa, the other working at a camp in the States, and had used the money he earned to travel around there for a while. Sounds like it's been something the parents have encouraged in them from a young age.

I managed to dodge the hostel staff and sneak back up to my room to pack - Brent told me that he was reading early this morning, and he dropped his book through the gap between the bunk bed and the wall. He hoped that it didn't land on me, but he said at least it was at the foot of the bed, so it shouldn't have landed on my head. I told him it was no big deal, and that it actually would've been ok had it landed on my head, if it happened to be a Playboy, opened to the centrefold. That wouldn't be such a bad way to be awakened.

The plan for this morning was to head over to the Champs-Elysees, but I noticed on the map how close Sacre Coeur in Montmartre was, so this became the first stop of the day. The only other time I've been here it was dull and grey, so any photos I took were converted to black and white. Not this time - the sky was a beautiful blue, something I haven't seen much of in Paris before.

A lot of dumb asses here run a bracelet scam, where they approach you and ask to show you a bracelet, which they tie tightly on your wrist. Once they do that, they tell you how much it costs, making you feel obligated to buy it, because getting it off is quite difficult without cutting it. Most people pony up, because they feel guilty.

I saw a bunch of these dumb asses milling about, one of them calling to me, and I ignored him. He quickly approached me and grabbed me by the arm - this never ceases to PISS me off!!! Unless this is Spain, and unless you are a beautiful little brunette named Cinthia, Claudia, Elena, Eva, or Isabel, do NOT touch me!!! But if you are, you can touch me all you want

As soon as he grabbed my right arm, I stopped dead in my tracks, raised the back of my right hand directly in front of his face and firmly shouted "Do not touch me!!!" He let go and backed off. I hate scammers like this, who prey on tourists. Get a life! I know they're trying to earn a living, but there are tons of vendors who work tourist sites like this, working very hard to earn very little. But at least they do it by selling something that people actually want, not by scamming them into buying something they don't want or don't need.

After Sacre Coeur, it was off to the Champs-Elysees, in search of some souvenirs, and for a nice stroll. I headed over to the Mercedes dealership - surprisingly, they had apparel and memorabilia from its various racing teams, but nothing from Formula One! Perhaps it's because their car sucks this year.

Time for a snack at Laduree - a famous Parisian cafe that I've never had the chance to visit during previous Paris trips. Finally, it happened today! It's famous for its chocolat chaud, hot chocolate described by some guidebooks as being "liquid gold". The restaurant part of Laduree was reserved for those wanting a full breakfast, which I wasn't into having already eaten, and also because the prices were INSANE!

They had a little bar where I could have a hot chocolate and on my way in, saw that they had pain au chocolat with pistachios in their patisserie! I've never seen any variation on pain au chocolat before, so I absolutely HAD to try one. But unfortunately, it wasn't possible to get one in the bar area, which I really couldn't understand, since a regular pain au chocolat was readily available, and it was only a matter of walking 10' to grab one with pistachio. Kind of stupid, in a way - another guy also asked for one but was also rejected. Oh well ... maybe next time in Paris!

A bit more shopping along the Champs-Elysees, then off to Rue Cler to pick up some lunch picnic. The plan was to bring a picnic to the Champ de Mars, and sit in the shadow of the Eiffel tower. As I approached the tower, I remembered that I have never returned to the Trocadero, so instead had the picnic there.

The day had started with much walking and after lunch, the day finished with much more walking - down Rue Rivoli, and an unplanned jaunt through the Tuileries, which was so sunny and beautiful when the sun was out, that it was impossible not to pop in. Naoual had suggested that I have a drink on Canal St. Martin if it was sunny, because it's a very popular spot with locals. But the clouds were rolling in, so I decided against it, as it was supposed to only be good if the sun was shining. The day finished with some shopping at the Forum Les Halles. All in all, it was a long and tiring day.

Back to the hostel to pick up my backpack, and it was off to the airport - in a bit of a rush, I didn't have time to pick up any food before boarding the train. Luckily, I had the chance to buy a big bottle of water beforehand, because it was HOT on board - packed with people leaving work and heading back home, out to the suburbs. Funny moment - there was a South African couple on the train, with the husband complaining about how much his wife packed. "Next time we're packing ony a g-string!"

Charles de Gaulle Airport - for some strange reason, it feels like I've visited this airport before, though I'm almost positive I've never been here. Maybe it's just deja vu. I checked in, only to find that the flight had been canceled, due to mechanical problems - the plane we were supposed to take was coming from Vancouver, from where it hadn't even departed. We were all to be put up in a hotel nearby for the night, and catch an early flight out.

I'll never complain about extending the vacation for a day, even if it means having a night out in the middle of nowhere. Given the volume of people on the flight, I had hoped that they would run out of rooms and tell me "Sorry, but we're going to have to put you in a dorm room where the Spanish women's national pillow fighting team is staying, and conducting an all night practice." A man can dream, can't he?

On the bus ride from the airport to the hotel, some extremely self-absorbed, money-hungry lady sat next to me. She was pissed off at the delay, which is understandable, but all I heard was yapping about "I'm a contractor and am losing SO much money by not working tomorrow. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah! I'm never flying Air Transat again! Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah!" Sorry lady but if you're all that rich, you wouldn't be flying a low-end charter airline like Air Transat!

I managed to switch the direction of the conversation to the point of her trip, and actually got some decent information about Corsica. Long on my list of places to visit, perhaps meeting this lady is a sign that I need to hurry up and visit Corsica. Because I really can't say meeting this lady added anything to my life, only sucked away a bit of my soul, so hopefully some good can come of it!

The hotel is actually pretty decent, a business-class place. Dinner wasn't scheduled to be served until late, probably because we had slammed the place, even with several hours of notice of the flight cancellation. I killed time before dinner by watching music videos, watching the Spanish-language channel, cutting my toe nails, and washing a pair of undies, since I didn't account for the extra day tomorrow. An exciting evening out in the boonies! I had asked the receptionist if there was a nearby town I could walk to, and was told 'Yes ... but there is nothing interesting there, not even a bar." In comparison, toe nails and undies sound like a blast!

I ended up sitting with a couple from Calgary, who tired of the rat race and moved out to Victoria a few years ago. Nice, friendly, and people who seem to realize that happiness is about following your dreams, and not defined by the number of zeros in your pay cheque, these are the type of people that make traveling worthwhile, when you have the good fortune to meet them. Unlike a certain other soul sucker encountered earlier today ...

Anyway, I completely forgot their names, but they'd just done a tour of Italy, France, and one of my faves, Croatia. Hearing them talk about Dubrovnik made me eager to return - next summer, anyone? We also got on the subject of Zadar, and it's sea organ - a pretty cheesy attraction, but it was nice to see that someone else thought it was as amazing as I did! See blog entry entitled "Am I hearing things, or is the sea speaking to me?" http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pwong/europe_2006/1157013960/tpod.html

Though they did bring up something I don't remember - apparently there was a large digital display near the sea organ, on the ground. When you step on it, visual effects are created. I think I've found yet another reason to visit Croatia again, beyond the gorgeous Adriatic Sea, beautiful scenery, and gorgeous Croatian women. Just for reference, on my list of "Countries with the most beautiful women", of course Spain is #1, Argentina/Uruguay are tied for #2, and Croatia, The Netherlands, and Poland are close behind in a tie for #3.

Some OK wine was served with dinner, and the starter was a prosciutto and cheese salad - not too bad, though the balsamic dressing was a bit too sweet. The main course was salmon, served with a cream sauce and some very bad,mushy veggies. Dessert was a choice between chocolate cake, chocolate mousse, and some fruit salad. The starter and desserts weren't bad, but the main course wasn't so hot.

After dinner, a guy stood up and said he wanted to make a toast - he gestured to a couple sitting across from him, and said that his best friend and his fiancee were supposed to get married tomorrow. With the delay, they weren't sure how it was going to happen. Ok ... I had my doubts, because I saw the groom at the airport with his buddy, and the bride at the airport with her friend, and the two sets of friends certainly didn't seem to know each other.

After people began scattering for the evening, they started calling people over. People started asking them details of what happened, and something definitely wasn't right. When someone asked how they met, the truth finally came out - they had only met today, and the guy's friend decided to play a big joke. The female half of the Victoria couple looked a little distraught that they had perpetrated this type of joke, probably because she seems like a bit of an idealist. For a pessimistic realist like myself, I just went "Meh, whatever!"

A practical joke about a fake wedding ... how wrong is that? What kind of person would do something like that? Hmmm ... see blog entry entitled "Surprise! We got 'Mary-ed'!" http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pwong/euro-2007/1189018680/tpod.html

The two sets of friends kept drinking wine, going around looking for the half-empty bottles scattered about. I went back to the room to relax. Some European artist named Milow re-made 50 Cent's "Ayo Technology", and I'm sorry to say that I watched the video while cutting my toenails. Sorry, but that being such a horrid song, how could anyone be inspired to re-make it? It's an acoustic version, and I couldn't decide which was more terrible. Shockingly, the re-make hit #1 in the Netherlands, Sweden, and Germany. I still can't comprehend the motivation behind it ... it's like finding a steaming pile of dog crap on the sidewalk, and trying to turn it into a chocolate cake!

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It's the last full day of the trip ... sigh ... but a good thing for me is that I'll be seeing a familiar face today in Paris - Naoual, who I met in Prague three years ago. It's always nice to see somebody you know while traveling even if it's at the very end of a trip, because the solo backpacker life can be a bit solitary, at times. It was interesting how this came about - I ended up meeting up with her in Paris three years ago at the end of that trip, and we emailed a few times after, but simply lost touch.

I was debating whether or not to contact her this time around, not sure if she even remembered me, but lo and behold - I get a friend request on Facebook at the beginning of the trip while I was in Spain. C'est la vie! At the time, Naoual was actually in Morocco visiting family, and made the comment that we weren't so far apart, which I thought was quite coincidental, since we hadn't spoken in so long.

It was a quiet morning, with time spent watching Tom & Jerry cartoons in French, before having breakfast at the usual spot in front of the TI. This spot will forever hold special meaning for me, as I've shared many beautiful, intimate moments with pastries here in Bayeux ...

The Edmonton couple I met yesterday was raving about cafe creme, so I tried it at the hotel's cafe. The only difference I could see was that it had less milk than a cafe au lait - it was good, but no better or worse than a cafe au lait. For some strange reason, I suddenly realized "Crap! I forgot to buy saffron in Spain!" Perhaps it was because drinking coffee on a sidewalk cafe in France made me think about cafe con leche in Spain. Saffron from Spain is considered the best in the world, and is yet another excuse for me to return to Spain next year. Usually, if you buy a certain amount of them, they throw in another little container of it. I'm hoping that if I buy a few thousand pounds of it, they'll throw in a little Spanish wife for me

I lingered over the coffee before checking out, as I was in no rush to get to the train station. I arrived well before the scheduled departure time, and killed some more time - there's no better way to do this in France than to eat!!!

On the train - there was a nice lady sitting next to my reserved seat, who kindly told me that it looked like the seat was reserved, thinking that I had just walked on looking for a spot. Or maybe she was just revolted by the sight of my still somewhat crusty pie eyes, and was afraid it was contagious.

Today and tonight was supposed to be spent in a small town named Honfleur, but I've grown tired of all the small French towns recently, and decided to spend my final night in a livelier place - Paris was exactly what the doctor ordered! The train ride to Paris was scenic, and given how windswept the region is, I was surprised that there aren't more wind farms in Normandy.

Paris - I checked into the Vintage Hostel, which was a lot better than I expected, given the mediocre reviews on the Internet. It's got decent facilities (kitchen, internet, TV lounge), and the rooms are fairly clean. There aren't any lockers in the rooms, but some are in the luggage storage area, which is a bit of a pain to use.

I had a quick chat with Brent, a young American moving to a small town near Paris for a few months, to teach English. He's doing a bit of sightseeing in Paris before making his way over there. He asked me how I liked Spain, and our conversation went like this:

Me: "I LOOOOOOOOOOOOVE Spain!!!" Brent: "My buddies loved it too!" Me: "Did they mention the women?" Brent: "Yup! But they only said they were beautiful, but didn't really describe them." Me: "Do you like cute little brunettes?" Brent: "I think that'll be alright!" Me: "Then you'll also LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE Spain!!!"

Having time to kill before meeting Naoual, I was off to the Marais for a stroll - Paris has many great walking areas, but the Marais is one of the few neighbourhoods that remains bustling even on a Sunday. I started out at the Bastille, then made my way over to Place des Vosges - it's funny, because I've been here at least three times before, and the past two, I've never remembered what it looked like, until I got close and realized "Ohhh ... THAT'S Place des Vosges ..."

After the Jewish Quarter I continued wandering around, surprised at how closely-located everything is in this amazing city. I arrived in Naoual's neighbourhood early, Gaite, because I had no idea how long the metro ride there would be.

We agreed to meet at the metro, and it was a funny moment - she arrived at one entrance, and I was at another, across the street. There was that moment of uncertainty, as she looked at me, unsure who I was, and I looked at her, unsure of who she was - this went on for a few seconds until she made a hesitant half-wave at me, and I did the same, kind of like "I think that's you ..."

Funny - this and the last time I saw her in Paris, she had just changed jobs and moved apartments. She lamented over how much of a pain moving is, and I could completely sympathize with her, given my recent problems with moving. We walked around, and it was quite chilly, especially without a jacket. Apparently, Paris was almost 30 degrees just a few days ago, but not today!

We grabbed a drink, her opting for some wine, and me opting for a pastis - apparently, only old people drink pastis in France, which explained why those French people sitting next to me at the restaurant in Sarlat were so happy to see me drink it! After, we wandered around in search of dinner, deciding on crepes - does it get any more authentic than crepes, for a final night in France?

Crepes are a specialty of Normandy, but I never did sample them while there - Naoual remembered dining at this particular crepe joint several years ago, and remembered it being good. Plus, many restaurants are closed Sunday night, so we didn't want to continue aimlessly wandering for nothing - though I enjoy that greatly while by myself, I prefer to sit and chat when I have company.

The place dishes out crepes in record time; our meals arrived in only two minutes. I can't even comprehend the physics of how that it is possible, given that everything appears freshly made. Even Naoual was shocked, even though she'd been here before.

It was great to catch up with Naoual, though perhaps it wasn't really catching up, since we never really got to know each other all those years ago. It's always difficult when you meet as traveling vagabonds, because there's never much of a chance to talk, as there's always an end date to it. The subject of Trevor did come up, a guy we all met that night in the hostel in Prague. Neither of us heard from him ever again, and she mentioned that she was a bit weirded out by him, because he had mentioned to her that he was a member of some cult. Interesting ...

We walked back in the direction of her apartment, and she pointed me towards La Tour Montparnasse, where I could hop the metro back to the hostel, without having to transfer lines. I'd never seen the tower before, but it's quite striking, because it towers so much over every other building in the immediate vicinity.

We said our goodbyes, and this time, I promised to stay in touch more than I did. Who knows, maybe I'll even see her next year, since there's talk of doing that big Euro trip with the boys in the summer. Back to the hostel, hoping that Brent was around so that we could grab a beer - he was already asleep, so the only drinking I did was from my big bottle of water, while writing in my journal. Off to bed ... the final sleep of the trip ... sigh ...

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Breakfast was once again pastries, and once again, it was cold eating them out in front of the TI, which has become my pastry-eating place - the problem with the town is that there aren't many conveniently-located plazas with benches to sit on, so the TI ends up serving that purpose for me. Off to the shuttle to Mont St. Michel - our driver is actually from Montreal, but moved here many years ago. I ended up sitting next to a nice older couple from Edmonton - we discussed our various travels, and how they had fallen in love with rural life here in France, and how they'd like to retire here, perhaps running a Bed & Breakfast. I recommended they do that, so that I could spend my holidays here in France at their B&B, and they could spend their holidays at my future Spanish hotel.

Mont St. Michel - on its own, it's not the most impressive abbey you will ever see, but tres cool because of its stunning location. The interior isn't anything special; Mont St. Michel is all about the view from the causeway, from where it's an otherworldly vision. After, I walked along the ramparts to escape the tourist hordes below - the crush of tourists is completely suffocating, and seeing it up close made me glad that I didn't stay nearby, and instead day-tripped from Bayeux.

After touring the tiny town, I sat with the Edmonton couple on some rocks, waiting for the shuttle, then boarded and headed back to Bayeux. I didn't have a chance to eat lunch at Mont St. Michel, only snacks, so I was starving by the time we returned, so I stopped in a fancy tea house for a quick bite to eat.

After, I wandered around town, did some shopping, and proceeded to check out the offerings at five other pastry shops. I can't stop doing that while in France!!! Off to see the tapestry, Bayeux's most famous sight. The artwork is the equivalent of finger painting, but really, it is impressive because it was made over 1000 years ago. It's the story of William the Conqueror's rise to power.

Sadly, the most interesting facts for me were that William was originally called "William the Bastard" (how's that for a name?), and that the French called the English "Les goddams", after the word they always heard the English use. Hey, I've never pretended that I travel to learn history, I've always been honest about traveling for food, beautiful Spanish women, and having funny stories to tell!

After the tapestry, I toured the inside of the cathedral - nothing special there. I had earlier seen a pair of shoes I liked, and returned to the store to try them on. Unfortunately, they weren't the right size for me, but the salesgirl was - a short, cute little mademoiselle that was positively Spanish senorita-esque! Sometimes I REALLY wish that I spoke French ...

I couldn't resist having another pastry before dinner, even though the past few days I have spoiled my appetite by doing so. Determined to regain my appetite before dinner, I took a long walk, well over an hour long. I made it to the outskirts of town, over to Place Charles de Gaulle, and the British Cemetery. Back in the centre of town, I once again had trouble on deciding where to have dinner, but eventually ended up at L'Assiete Normand - bastards!!!

Once again, the single diner is discriminated against. "Sorry, we have no room.", just before a few more walk-ins were seated. Yeah ... sure ... I wandered around some more, looking and looking for a place to eat, but again, nothing jumped out at me. Tonight was the time for something simple, so I ate at Pizzeria le Florentine. Once again, I overate, a very common theme here in France. I waddled around town again, having another early night. I prefer my Spanish nights of under eating, and wandering the streets until late.

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The bathroom in my room has an odd odour ... I have no idea why, since it's only got a shower stall and a sink, and the toilet is down the hall. Maybe it's smelly gases backing up through the drains, or perhaps it's me??? Another bad sleep, because I didn't bother with earplugs last night since I had my own room. Some other guests checked out quite early, fumbling around with their luggage, and some irritating seagulls woke me up way too early.

Breakfast was at the patisserie just a few doors down from the hotel, the same place where I had the divine St. Eve yesterday evening. The hotel's cafe/bar offered a breakfast for 6 euros, but I didn't feel it was good value, especially when a couple of pastries only cost me just over 2 euros. Though I suppose Pierre-Henri also charged 6 euros for breakfast, but that came with the whole experience of eating in a beautiful garden.

I ate and waited around for the D-Day tour company to pick me up, along with a Kiwi couple. The tour operator called to advise they would be 20 minutes late, so I grabbed a cafe au lait at the hotel. That and the pastries ended up costing me about 5 euros - still preferable over the hotel's breakfast, as a croissant and bread could not stack up to a pain au chocolat and apricot danish.

The van picked us up, and we were off to the German cemetery, for the first brief stop of the day, then to Ste. Mere Eglise. Ste. Mere Eglise is famous because many paratroopers landed off target around the area. D-Day was all about timing - only for a brief three-day period once a month would the invasion be possible, as low tides were needed to invade by sea, and a full moon was needed for the paratroopers to have some lighting.

Weather conditions were far from ideal, but Eisenhower made the decision to proceed with the invasion, because missing this window of opportunity would mean waiting another month to invade. Many German factories had been destroyed through earlier attacks, but they were starting to be rebuilt, so the time to invade was now, before they recovered. The exact location of the invasion was kept a complete secret, and even the soldiers did not know where it would be until they landed on the beaches. They only knew that it would be France, because they were given some local currency and a French phrase book.

Because of the weather, many paratroopers missed their drop points, and many ended up landing in flooded inland areas, drowning themselves. Timing of the paratroopers arrival was also terrible, as there happened to be a fire in Ste. Mere Eglise that night - normally there was a curfew, so no townspeople and few German soldiers would be out on a typical evening. But the Germans allowed the residents to be out in the streets, fighting the flames, which also meant additional soldiers were around to watch over them. So not only did the flames light up the sky and ruin the element of surprise, but a large number of German soldiers were there to witness it, and as such, many paratroopers were shot and killed before even landing.

One of the tour members from the States commented that it was unfortunate that I missed out on the Canadian sights, and it was, but since it's all shared history, it's still a worthwhile experience, either way. Due to my poor planning, I wasn't able to reserve a tour to any of the Canadian sights - you usually need to book a couple of days in advance, so I was lucky to even get on today's tour.

Knowing I was Canadian, our guide gave us a bit of info on the Canadian participation in D-Day - Juneau beach was where the Canadians landed, but it was originally named Jelly beach. The Brits named their beaches after fish (ie - Gold, Sword), but the Canadians objected because Jelly didn't sound all that great. So instead, it was named after the Canadian General's wife.

Our guide also brought up the ill-fated Canadian-led mission at Dieppe - while none of the major objectives of that mission were accomplished, and also suffering huge casualties in the process, the mission resulted in later successes for the Allies. The Allies learned important lessons and applied them to the D-Day invasion; these lessons ultimately contributed to the successful execution of D-Day. It was a packed itinerary today; after Ste Mere Eglise, we went to Utah beach, Pointe du Hoc, Omaha beach, and finally, the American Cemetery. It ended up being the longest day, especially with the early start, but also because it was so overwhelming - there is so much information to take in, and is quite mentally draining.

After returning to town and having a snack, I popped over to a souvenir shop that runs a couple of Internet terminals. Seeing a couple of girls struggling with the French keyboard, I pointed out that you could easily change that by clicking on an icon at the bottom right hand corner of the screen, or use a couple of short cut keys to toggle between languages. It was funny how grateful they were for that simple tip - trust me, they'll save tons of money on Internet time with those simple tricks. I've wasted a lot of time in Internet cafes before finding out those tricks.

I later ran into them at the grocery store, where they were standing over the freezer section, debating whether or not they should have ice cream for dinner. You can tell it's their first time traveling on their own, and on such an extended trip. They reminded me of that group of three American girls from Barcelona because they were so excited just to have the chance to travel, and it definitely puts a smile on my face to see young people like that traveling and discovering the world.

Back to the hotel for a bit of relaxing, and then off to find dinner, which was a very difficult choice tonight. Shall I have a sit-down meal, a kebab, or maybe a crepe? I was hesitant to make a choice, because of the disappointments I've had lately, and none of the menus around town seemed to jump out. I finally chose a place called "Le Petit Normandie".

After dinner - I was too full again, and I needed a walk. I heard some French women practicing their Spanish which, quite frankly, made my night! They are the two most beautiful languages, and combining them is always a treat to hear. The walk didn't last long, as it was very cold and windy tonight. Back to the hotel for some reading, TV, and more smelly bathroom odours.

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