I should have taken at least one picture of my stuffed-to-the-gills duffle bag. This I took after I got home, after I’d unloaded most of what was in it. The duffle bag is about 21 inches long, about 12-13 inches in diameter. It does have a flat bottom, and each end has a pocket. Sticking out of the bag is my folded up safari hat and the top edge of a yellow manila folder that had trip documents (not tickets) inside.

Some safari camps allow more luggage, but because we took small puddle-jumper single-engine planes 3-4 times between camps, they, the fixed-wing charter airline (Mack Air) had a limit on the size and weight of the bags. Everywhere we went there were 16 of those bags piled up on the runway, beside the game drive Land Rovers. The only difference between them were the yarn tags hanging from the ends – one of our gals knit them for us, so we could identify our bags quickly. Fortunately, at every camp and hotel the staff delivered the bags to our rooms for us.

Abercrombie & Kent provided the bags. And they provided a list of things we could take on the trip. Here’s what I took: 2 pairs of cropped pants (cotton, both beige), 2 t-shirts, both beige, a few changes of underwear, a jacket for cooler nights (never used) and a rain jacket (also never used). I took a safari vest my friend Linda loaned me, but it was SO hot I only used it one day. Linda loaned me a long-sleeved safari shirt too, which was also required and I used it a lot. Also took a pair of pajamas, some took a bathing suit (I didn’t; I just used one of my outfits when I used the pools). We wore one pair of shoes (sandals, heavy-duty type, not strappy type) and packed a pair of closed-toed shoes. Some took tennis shoes (mostly the men), but I took a pair of Skechers (left them behind at our last stop as I didn’t like them) and also took a pair of flip-flops. All of our liquid toiletries had to fit into ONE quart-sized plastic bag. I took sunscreen, mascara, eye liner, brow color, one lipstick, one tube of lip moisturizer, makeup remover, my nightly nasal spray, mosquito repellant. No shampoo (it was provided), no hair spray, no gel, no perfume. I took my Kindle (read 5 books as I think I mentioned), my iPad mini (played some games during the hot afternoons), and my iPod (that I listen to when I am trying to go to sleep). I took my big honkin’ camera (Canon Rebel xSi, the one I use for all my blog photos) with the standard lens, not the zoom – there was no way I could have handled that on this trip. Fortunately we were able to charge our devices in most places. Some took a phone. I didn’t. I had to make room for my charging cords and an extra battery, an extra card for my camera and a wall plug that would fit into the southern Africa electricity. And then, I had the outfit I flew in (and wore every day I was in Dubai, and wore it a couple of nights at the safari camps) and then I wore it on the long journey home. I wished I’d taken some hair gel as those safari hats wreak havoc with any hairdo. I had my hair cut very short for this trip so all I had to do was comb it and it dried in about 2 minutes because it was so hot there.

The shampoo in all of the stays was hard on my hair. I guess I should have packed some of my own (we were told not to), but my bag was already very full. I also took a Baggalini purse, of course, which was packed solidly, and I put a few things in a tote bag I carried on. It wasn’t big or heavy; my purse would actually fit in it if necessary. I think I was the only person who took an extra small bag. At the end of the trip I left behind all of my clothes that I could, which left a bit of room to buy a couple of trinkets. I’ll show them to you eventually. Cute animal figures done in wire and beading; also a balsa wood zebra. I left the tote bag behind and was able to fit my camera and my 5×6 notebook in a very small paper bag with handles given to us at one of the camps.

In the Johannesburg airport, en route home, Gwenda, my roommate, and I visited the duty free and both bought Amarula, a delicious liqueur similar to Bailey’s Irish Cream, except this is made from the fruit of the Marula tree. It was offered to us daily at the camps, to drink in our coffee when we stopped for refreshments on the morning game drives. That’s when I started drinking it – this at about 10:30 in the morning. It was lovely in the coffee.

When we went through security in Dubai (on the way home) I got flagged for a random check. I was with 3 other people from our trip, and they made them go on ahead of me, but they wouldn’t let me take my Amarula with me. I was SO upset – it wasn’t that I couldn’t have it, it was that when you’re flagged by security you can’t take alcohol there. Why, I don’t know! I thought they were going to confiscate it, but they didn’t. Anyway, I was escorted to another floor of the building and they took a swab all over my clothing and sent it through a machine. When I was finished they put me in an elevator which promptly locked me in and I couldn’t make it go to a floor or even move. Finally had to press an alarm bell to get someone to come. The elevator required a special pass only held by the security staff. Obviously I passed the security check and was let out of “prison.” What was funny was that they told the others in my group that I was taken “prisoner.” Gwenda was very distraught. Fortunately they allowed her to carry my Amarula so I managed to get it home after all.

It doesn’t taste like  Bailey’s – it doesn’t have chocolate in it – but it’s a cream-based drink. Altogether lovely. Gwenda bought 4 bottles and got someone else to take 2 of them through customs for her. I had 2 bottles (in a 2-pack cardboard case). The customs official did ask me about it – I assured him it wasn’t straight alcohol. Am not sure but I may have bought too much, but the guy smiled at me and winked and let me go through. THANK YOU, kind sir!

I haven’t had any of it since I got home – I don’t generally drink coffee at night, but my friend Joe will be coming to visit in a week or so, and I know he’ll have some with me. The marula tree fruit is bitter, so they must add sugar or some kind of sweetening to it, then the cream. There’s a photo of the marula fruit, from Wikipedia.

On the trip I drank a gin and tonic almost every day. They’re so very refreshing in hot weather, and oh my, was it ever hot on this trip. I don’t think we had a single day when it was less than about 100° F. Miserable. Absolutely miserable. But the gin and tonic helped! On a regular, daily basis I don’t drink at all anymore. I used to drink wine most evenings – a glass only – I’m a lightweight, always have been, but I didn’t have wine anytime on the trip. It was free to everyone, but I passed. Coke Light was my drink of choice, with LOTS of ice.

Since I got home, in between feeling lousy with jet lag (it’s 9 hours difference between Los Angeles time and Botswana time), trying to sleep (not well, except last night, finally) and trying to take care of necessities, I’ve been sorting and organizing my photos. I’ve just finished them today, so now will begin to tell you all the stories of my trip. Stay tuned.

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I’ve just returned, last night, from 2 weeks in Africa, on safari, and 2 days at the beginning of the trip, in Dubai. I’ve only begun to download all my photos from my camera. I’ve got one good night of sleep under my belt, am sipping on my first cup of coffee with cream (the cream unheard of anywhere on the trip), and will begin in earnest to work on my photos. I have hundreds to sort through, many of which will go into the computer trash. The above picture I took in a gift shop in Dubai – it was a big canvas print and I thought the art itself was so interesting. No, I didn’t buy it – I had no place whatsoever, to put a tube of canvas prints! On the entire trip we never saw a camel, but it at least is representative of the African continent.

We spent (I use the collective “we” because I was with a group of 16 – and I had a roommate, Gwenda,  – and we did everything together) 2 days and 2 nights in Dubai (enough), then flew to Johannesburg, where we stayed at a magnificent hotel (the Saxon), then took a flight to Livingstone, in Zambia, and began a journey to 5 different safari camps (most of them in Botswana), some more luxurious than others and I’ll be telling you all about them. One camp was accessible via LandRover (or LandCruiser, whichever), but the others were accessed only via very small puddle-jumper planes on very short, compacted dirt and sand landing strips. Sometimes the flights were longer (an hour), sometimes as short as 10-15 minutes.

And, believe it or not, I’m going to share some recipes too. We had fabulous food – I can’t fault any of our camps for their food – they did wonders with what they had available. I don’t suppose broccoli and cauliflower are common to the African people, but we had it often. There were combinations of foods I’d not considered doing, but it worked there. In coming days or week or two I’ll be sharing a cookie recipe – I just called them safari cookies. We had hot soup nearly every evening on the trip, and I’ll be sharing a recipe for a carrot, ginger and lime soup that was exceptional. And we had a delicious hummus that I want to make. If any of you have read my blog for awhile, I made a categorical statement recently that I’m “over” being infatuated with hummus. But THIS hummus was different. I’ll make it sometime soon. We had lots of butternut squash – that must be a staple available in Africa. We had beautiful fruit (melons, papaya, oranges, limes, lemons and green apples) that must have come from South Africa. I ate a cooked breakfast nearly every morning (generally I had 2 poached eggs or sunny side up ones) with wonderful, fresh breads, and sometimes bacon or sausage. We had lots of beef, pork, kudu, chicken, guinea fowl, even some fish. Vegetarian options were available everywhere, and even on occasion some GF breads.

So, bear with me as I begin the work here at my end, categorizing and sorting my photos (is that a bird up in that picture of a tree?) and I’ll share it all in coming days. My first night home I had a Trader Joe’s salad, and let’s just say I’m savoring my coffee this morning. Home feels wonderful. Today I’m meeting my daughter who took care of my kitten for me while I was gone. I’ve shopped for groceries already. The work on my house still isn’t quite finished, but it’s almost done. My newly redecorated bedroom still lacks accessories, but it’s almost completed. And my own bed was the most comfortable I’ve been in the last 2 1/2 weeks!

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The beautiful gardens way up the California coast near Mendocino are off the beaten path if you’re just visiting San Francisco. It’s about 100 miles north and over a set of low mountains or accessed by the very windy 2-lane highway that traverses most of the California coast. If you’re ever there, do make a pilgrimage. It’s very worth it. You’ll notice the sun wasn’t even shining, but there was plenty of light to take photos.

Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens

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On my driving trip to Northern Cal, I stayed just one night in Sonoma. It’s a very cute little town – there’s a photo I found online at sonomavalley.com, of the main square or plaza. My B&B was about a block off to the top right – so easy to walk into town. Sonoma still retains its old world charm and almost frontier character. I wasn’t there for the wine – my darling DH was probably chiding me from heaven to have me stop at this or that winery, but I wasn’t there to do tasting or buying, especially since it was summer (hot) and any wine would have to stay in the car for the next several days (not good). There’s a special table/décor store on the plaza (top at the center) that I wanted to visit, but it was closed by the time I walked there, and I left too early the next morning to do any shopping.

Here’s a photo of the table in my room at the Cottage Inn and Spa, where I stayed. The B&B is a combination of two old Spanish homes, side by side, with just charmingly decorated rooms. I stayed in the Courtyard Suite, a small but cozy room with a tiny but well outfitted kitchen and a view (if my door was left open) of the courtyard and fountain.

Breakfast was delivered (a pretty covered basket) to a hook outside my door and I made a good pot of coffee to go with it. Very nice.

The little B&B has one distinction – there is only one room with a TV. I read my book and slept like a log.

I asked for a recommendation for dinner and they sent me to the #1 Trip Advisor result, Café La Haye, which is just off the main plaza by about 60 paces. I went early and had a fabulous meal. I put together the photos in a collage – see below.

My dinner comprised two different small dishes – the beet salad on a bed of crème fraiche (I think) and topped with a lovely mound of dressed greens. It was to die for. I sat at a bar (see 2nd picture, small bar at bottom right) that overlooked the kitchen.

My 2nd course was toasted polenta slices (that were very moist) on a bed of something (can’t recall) and topped with shaved fennel and onions and a lovely sauce. I nearly licked the plate clean.

Then I splurged and had their rum raisin gelato/ice cream which was meant to go with a special dessert, but they ran out of the dessert, so I just had the gelato. Oh my, delicious.

When I left, it was still early, so I took a long stroll around all the stores on the perimeter of the plaza. I looked in windows, and browsed inside if the stores were open (some were). The town was busy with visitors and locals.

A charming town. I enjoyed my B&B and my dinner.

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Have you ever been to Morro Bay? It’s a lovely little, sleepy seaside town about 2 1/2 hours north of Los Angeles. And that, the great, gigantic rock, sits out from the shore about 3/4 of a mile or so. It’s certainly the focal point of this town.

It’s been several weeks ago now – actually it was at the end of May, and I’m just getting around to writing up about my 2-week driving trip to Northern California. Life got in the way, but first I needed to write up all the different posts about my Europe trip in March/April. As I write this I’m packing my suitcase to fly to Colorado to visit with friends for about 5 days, so maybe I’ll have some photos from there as well. I’ll get those up after I finish this trip . . .

Once through the awful traffic of L.A. (it gets worse by the day, and traffic in Orange County, where I live, is getting worse too) it was easy driving on up north. I like driving – at least for awhile I don’t mind driving by myself. During one part it wasn’t much fun, but I’ll tell you about that later. After driving through Oxnard and Pismo Beach, eventually I got to Morro Bay. I’d booked myself into a really, really lovely place called The Anderson Inn (it’s not a B&B, no breakfast). I wished I’d paid for the highest priced rooms that overlook that view up at top. I didn’t – I just couldn’t quite bring myself to do it – it’s not cheap! – so I had a very partial view of the rock from a tiny deck outside my sliding door. The room was lovely – outfitted well – and the owner even asked me if I liked cream in my coffee (yes, I do) and she brought me a pitcher of real cream that was stored in the room refrigerator. Oh my, was I impressed.

I had time to walk up and down the main street of the wharf, to look in all the corny tourist shops. I didn’t buy anything although I visited one really nice gardening and décor store that had some lovely stuff. I had dinner early, at The Galley, a restaurant that’s attached to the inn (and you can see the 2nd floor deck for the inn’s view rooms, the ones I didn’t stay in – there are 4 of them up there, overlooking the harbor).

It seems to be my modus operandi as a widow, when I eat out, to eat early – I feel awkward going to dinner at 7 with romantic couples and families everywhere. I shouldn’t, and I’ve tried not to, but I just do. So I was finished with dinner by about 6:30 and had time to take a nice walk. It was brisk that day and I enjoyed the cool ocean breezes.

The next morning I had breakfast down the street at a very old-fashioned (but good) diner, and I got on the road early. Because of some fast, last minute texting with my friend Cherrie, when I got to Cayucos (ky-YOU-kos), just north or Morro Bay, I pulled off and drove into the 2-block long main drag and stopped at a very special destination – the Brown Butter Cookie Company. They have a store in Paso Robles and this one in Cayucos. They offer samples too. I’d tasted their cookies before – and knew they were sensational (yes, lots of butter). Most of their cookies are sort of a shortbread kind of dough, although I had chocolate chip, and that was not.

I’d just had breakfast, but for the sake of research, I bought one cookie to eat myself. I bought several others – small packages of 6 cookies in bags of 4 different types. They made for a very nice hostess gift for 2 different friends I was going to stay with in coming days.

My destination that day was Carmel, but I drove old Highway 1, a very curvy road that’s been in existence for more than a century, I’m sure. Hearst Castle is along the way, though I didn’t stop there –  have been there several times. I just headed north, plugged in a CD to listen to a book on tape (that day it was Under Magnolia, the memoir by Frances Mayes). I don’t mind the curvy roads, but I found that I didn’t enjoy it that much because I couldn’t crane my neck around to see the views – I had to keep my eye on the road. I didn’t have anyone to tell me to stop at the next turnout, etc. I think the better viewpoints are seen driving south, not north. I don’t know that I’ll ever do that drive again. On the way, though, there are some lovely places to stop. I got out to stretch my legs and encountered this relatively friendly raven. Had I moved any closer he’d have flown off – he kept his eye on me every second as I approached. He didn’t even flinch when the shutter clicked.

This scene is very typical of the California coast – we’re in a severe drought, though, so where the fields might have been green, they’re brown this year. The flowers are weeds, I think, but they’re pretty nonetheless.

One place I always stop is a sea lion overlook. It’s marked with a sign, and this time of year there are hundreds of sea lions lounging on the shore with hundreds of people standing around and gawking and making funny faces because it smells. I joined the crowds and snapped a few pictures and observed one of the males maneuvering himself to an open spot. They are so gangly and awkward – it’s amazing they can roll themselves on land.

The picture doesn’t do justice to the noise – they are barking off and on all the time – and they move around, flap a little to ward off flies, probably, and the water laps at their tails. It was blowing like crazy – I know, you can’t tell – so I didn’t stay there long.

I made several short stops, snapped some pictures, most of which weren’t worthy of posting except those you see here. I stopped at one pull-out along the coast and loved the interplay of colors in the water. It was cold, and yes, the wind was blowing. That’s the scene looking south, obviously.

I spent the night in Carmel, at the rather famous Doris Day pet-friendly hotel right in downtown, called the Cypress Inn. It’s a block off the main drag, and has a lovely old-world, almost European elegance about it. I had an exceedingly small room there – by the time I booked it a month before I went, all the rooms I’d previously looked at and liked were taken. Oh well. I had another early dinner at the restaurant in the hotel and then had time to walk the complete town – up, across, down and back, the length of the main street. Nearly all the stores were closed, but I managed to return the next morning to a store I liked that had raincoats. Not that I needed a raincoat, but I really liked a bright red one. That went into the trunk of my car and never got used – still hasn’t been used since it’s summer! The next morning I had to climb over dogs in the lobby to get to the breakfast bar. There were dogs everywhere (not in the room with the food, however).

After that I drove to Santa Clara and stayed overnight with my cousin Gary, then visited with friends Stacey & Russ and their children, then spent 2 nights in Lafayette and used a nice hotel as a central place to go visit another cousin Maxine and her husband Jim, and Karen & Phil, lunch with one of Dave’s old-old friends, a previous boss and sailing partner and his wife, Bob & Monique, then with another couple who were also close friends during Dave’s days at Intel, Ron & Kim. I was VERY busy during those 5 days – with hardly a moment to myself, really.

Then I drove through wine country and met my cousin Gary in Healdsburg. We had lunch and then I drove us up to Mendocino. I’d wanted to re-visit that town – it was one that my DH and I had visited about 5-6 years ago, and enjoyed. Gary had never been there, and it’s right in his neck of the woods. So he’d said yes, he’d like to go with me when I asked him to accompany me. It’s a kind of a sleepy seaside town and there’s not a whole lot to do there.

Gary and I stayed 2 nights and ate out of course. Nothing particularly memorable. We did visit a lovely botanic gardens in Ft. Bragg (about 4-5 miles north of Mendocino) and I’ll write up a separate post about that. Gary loves flowers and gardens and he spent hours and hours hiking the trails and taking hundreds of photos. I walked through it all and took some pictures, then spent some time at the little café reading, and enjoying an iced chai tea latte. For many of the daylight hours we were there it was shrouded in mist. Morning, noon and night, really, with some filtered sun shining through now and then. In the photo above, near our inn, is the bay just north of the town of Mendocino. You can tell it was overcast and misting.

After dropping Gary off in Healdsburg, where he left his car (and he went on home), I visited Sonoma State, the school where my granddaughter Taylor will be going to college (she’ll major in nursing) this fall. I’m SO excited for her. I walked around the campus just to acquaint myself with the layout, and drove around the dorms. And visited the bookstore and bought a few things for Taylor. Then I drove on over to Placerville to attend Taylor’s high school graduation. Here’s a photo of her just before the ceremony.

I’m so proud of this young lady – she’s overcome some tremendous odds and graduated with a really good GPA – and Sonoma State wants her! She was accepted at Chico State also, but opted for Sonoma – it’s a really beautiful pine-tree-filled campus.

The next day I surprised Taylor with a big gift – she so needs it – I bought her a car. Here at right you can see the photo of her after I purchased it (used, though it’s only 2 years old, a Honda Civic).

Can you tell how excited she was about that?

While I was at Sonoma State I bought her a decal that’s already installed in the back window of her car – I should have given her the decal first then told her I was going to take her somewhere where she could install it. No matter, she was  thrilled. The college campus is about 2 1/2 hours away from home. She had an ancient Honda Civic with 250,000+ miles on it that was on its last legs, and certainly not up the task of taking her to/from school.

That was my trip – after a couple of days there I drove home. Another trip under my belt as a widow. I don’t really like traveling alone, but if I want to travel, I have to do it that way part of the time.

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Many tours of Paris include a visit to Giverny, the gorgeous small estate and gardens of the famed impressionist artist, Claude Monet. Back in his days there, he was a celebrated artist – a fame that came to him later in life.

In Monet’s earlier years he and his wife nearly died of starvation as they struggled to survive in a tiny garret in Paris. Yet never would he consider taking on some other occupation. He lived only to draw and paint. His first wife died (and he was both acclaimed and censored for painting his wife as she lay dead in their marital bed). Eventually he married again, and then finally he became an artist in favor. He’d made enough money to afford a lovely home and a staff to take care of this quiet, country piece of land on a narrow lane just north of Paris. Back then it was a ‘fur piece” to get there – now it takes about 45 minutes by car.

Over the years he expanded the gardens to include a piece of land that was across the road. Technically he owned it (so we learned on our tour) but nobody else built on theirs, but Monet did. The tour includes both sides of the road and you hardly realize that there IS a road in between. The townspeople must not have wanted to make waves, so they allowed his indiscretion of developing the garden. The road, in the photo at top is behind the ivy wall you can see about half way up. He dammed up a small pond (which is on the annexed garden) and planted flowers every which way. He painted nearly every day and everyone in the household left him alone when he was painting – it is what allowed them all to live there and be part of his large family. As long as he continued to paint and sell his paintings, the family lived in some level of French countryside splendor.

His gardeners kept the entire property thriving with seasonal flowers, built and planned along every path and wall to provide fodder for his paintbrush. The Monets entertained lavishly and often – there are cookbooks about the food they ate. Including the menus and recipes.

The bridge at left is quite famous in Monet-land. It’s in several of his paintings (Cherrie and Joan standing there in the middle).

Some of the trees, shrubs and flowers were labeled, but most of them were not. We guessed at some. I think one of the most interesting areas was the pond and in the middle of it there were very vocal frogs. I took a video, but am not very adept at the process of uploading it to my blog, so just trust me – it was very entertaining as the frogs called to each other from one lily pad to another and males protected their territory with skirmishes going on nearly every minute. Or, maybe it wasn’t male-male skirmishes, but male to female lovers’ calls.

As we meandered around the paths, we eventually made it into the main gardens in front of the house. This pathway you see at right is cordoned off so visitors can’t walk there (you had to walk around the outside edges), but it makes for a prettier picture, I think.

In the heart of summer, most likely the climbing plants and flowers completely cover those canopies.

Flowers, pretty pastel spring flowers, were in abundance, in small clumps, mixing in more than one color or type, as at left with pink tulips and whatever the little blue flowers were. Can’t remember, nor can I tell from the photos.

Eventually we ended up going into the front door of the house (straight ahead in the photo above. Docents (French speaking only, of course) were in every room to make sure nobody stepped out of line or touched things. Monet and his wife slept in separate bedrooms, and actually the house wasn’t as big as I thought. Perhaps there are other rooms in the house that we didn’t see, more rooms for guests.

I’ve read that once a week – I think it’s on the day the estate is closed to the public – it’s open to artists who wish to come and paint in Monet’s footsteps. I’ve never done plein air painting (meaning out in the open, in nature), though every summer here where I live in Southern California, there is a workshop and competition for plein air.

Having heard about and read (I own the original Monet cookbook) some about the Monet family feasts, I was very intrigued to see the stunningly beautiful dining room. The house itself has been left completely as it was when Monet lived there (well, they keep it up, obviously, because it’s a huge money-maker). I have no idea if Monet’s descendants are involved, or are even alive. I don’t think I’ve ever heard.

The photo at left, with the rowboats, was one of my favorite scenes at Giverny. Monet painted angles of that numerous times. If you go on the ‘net and look, you’ll find so many paintings of different places all over the estate. There’s something so peaceful about the rowboats, and the still pond, and the bamboo (I think) growing up behind them.

My Monet cookbook resides up in my office (meaning that it isn’t one I use much). I found that the recipes were kind of bland. Plain. And that’s not my style particularly, but the book is big, with lots of photographs of Giverny, and I have a hankering to look through the pages again, to remember my walk through the gardens, this view and that.

The Monet dining room is all in yellow, and it’s a very bright and cheerful room. Big. Because there were many extra chairs sitting around the edges, I think the table could accommodate more people if they needed to. The floors were beautiful. The furniture was all painted yellow. The floors that unique brick-red and white checkerboard. You can see the doorway into the kitchen beyond.

Loved the yellow and crimson tulips that were just in their final days of bloom. I wanted to cut off about a hundred and vase them in my kitchen.

The kitchen was so cool (in blue) and airy, with the gorgeous copper pots hanging around. I suspect the table you see in the foreground was the main work surface. I think the tile wall is Delft, and I found it interesting that they combined the blue-blue (like a marine blue) of the tiles and the turquoise trim color. To me they don’t go together at all. I’m sure Monet decided that color – very little was left to chance or to Mrs. Monet.

There is the cooking wall – with different Delft tiles surrounding the stove. And would you take a look at that stove? Like a gigantic Aga, but surely it was wood burning. But I don’t know that – just assuming that it was wood or coal burning. With so many different cubbyholes for heating, warming and baking.

Off to one side of the gardens was a very large gift shop, and although I tried to find some things I wanted there, the only thing I bought was a plastic shopping bag (that cost me about $3.00 U.S.) with one of Monet’s lily pad pond scenes on it. I take it to the grocery store and cart food into my kitchen. They had lots of Monet books – oodles of them, but I didn’t buy one.

There at left is Monet’s art studio. It was gigantic – by far the biggest room in the house. On the walls are painted replicas of his paintings, all stuck chock-a-block on ever surface. It was connected to the house, but down several stairs to get there. I’d have liked to really study the room more, but it was quite crowded, as you can see.

All of us really enjoyed the gardens – it was a lovely afternoon, the sun shone but it wasn’t too hot (this was early April). We were fortunate that we had no rain – we didn’t have rain at all on the trip.

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That’s me, at Angelina, the famous Paris hot chocolate cafe and store (and  food too, but mostly they’re known for hot chocolate and pastries) sharing a pitcher of hot chocolate at about 9:30 in the morning.

As I’m writing this it’s June and I’m still not finished telling you about the trip I took in late March until mid-April. Our last stop, in Paris for 3 nights. I hope you’re not tired of reading my travel stories – I have a couple more posts to write for the Europe trip (to Giverny, Claude Monet’s home and gardens an hour or so north of Paris and our visit to the Opera House).

Our first full day we spent a good part of it at the old Paris Opera House on a small-group, English speaking tour. The 2nd day Darlene and I went over to Angelina. It was a belated birthday present for her from me, a stop she was dying to make, having heard so much about the shop and their special, thick (Africain style) hot chocolate. And indeed, it was thick. So thick that it’s just about required to spoon some whipped cream into it to thin it out a little bit. Here’s what their website says about it:

African Hot Chocolate
The famous “African” hot chocolate is composed of three carefully selected kinds of African cocoa from Niger, Ghana and Côte d’Ivoire. The secret recipe for this chocolate mix is specially put together for Angelina. The combination of these different types of chocolate from different lands lends Angelina’s hot chocolate its exceptional taste and distinctive character.

I bought two packages of their mix. Darlene and I shared a bag, and the other one will be a gift. I haven’t made any of it yet – it’s way too hot for hot chocolate right now. The gift one is going to my younger granddaughter who is a crazy about hot chocolate. She’ll think it’s extra special. She even has a French hot chocolate pot.

Darlene and I ordered hot chocolate and a pastry. Talk about doubling up the fat. Wow. We waited about 10 minutes and they set the table, just so, and took impeccable care of us, even if we couldn’t speak French. The waiter was very kind and didn’t give us a bad time about it. As we left the place our friend Joan walked in, so the 3 of us walked back to our hotel with our purchases in tow (I bought a little pitcher like the one in the photo at top). Darlene bought several of the imprinted dishes.

If you do a search for French hot chocolate, or Angelina hot chocolate, you’ll find many recipes. I’m not going to include links here since it’s very easy to do a search.

At right, my cup of chocolate with some of the much-needed whipped cream stirred in. Was this stuff divine? Absolutely!

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Without a doubt, this gorgeous basilica is the focal point of Lyon. It stands, majestically, on a prominent hill overlooking the main city below. Its architecture is stunning. The view over the city also stops you in your tracks. The interior of the church is highly decorated with mosaics and glittering in gold.

Our second full day in Lyon was spent in the company of a lovely tour guide, Clémence P. (pictured down below), who met us at the Basilica, taking us on a walking tour inside and explaining the history. She’s a local, although she attended school in the U.S. at some time in her earlier youth and speaks English very well. Joan found her on her internet searches, and she walked us all over the top, then down nearly to the bottom of the hill.

There’s a very cute funicular that traverses up and down the hill every few minutes. So we 4 gals went up on the funicular and walked down, mostly with our guide as she pointed out historical things, bought us a piece of special pastry, and finally left us near a restaurant where we promptly sat down and had lunch.

That mosaic on the right is gigantic and standing as I was down below it my photo doesn’t do it justice.

The church was built in the 1600s and especially dedicated to the Virgin Mary because, it was believed, she sheltered the people of Lyon from the bubonic plague. And every year the city thanks her by a Festival of Lights in early December. The townspeople also credit the Virgin Mary with saving them from a cholera epidemic in the 1800s and from a Prussian invasion in 1870. There are 2 churches, actually, one underneath and then the much more formal and ornate one built on top in the 1800s.

If you’re interested, go to this link on youtube and you can watch a 2 1/2 minute video of the Festival of Lights, which is quite spectacular. It occurs for just 4 nights.

We really only had two full days to tour in Lyon – we stayed 3 nights, but we didn’t get there until early afternoon on day one, had the two full days after, and the following morning we left for Paris. Sunday we did the farmer’s market and some shopping. Monday was our tour of the city.

Historically, Lyon was known for the weaving of silk. Somehow in my education of all things history, I never heard that there was any place other than Asia where silk fabrics were made. Actually much was produced in Italy also, in the Middle Ages.

All of us were sad that we didn’t have time to explore that part of Lyon – it’s along one side the river. Picture at left credited to viator.com. Although you might not realize it, looking at that bank of tall buildings, so they said, weavers lived and worked in the same rooms, working only by day (as there was no electricity) with only the windows in the workrooms. In my internet exploring to find that picture, I saw photos of the historic silk weaving facilities. Cramped for sure. The heyday of Lyon silk weaving was in the 1600s, with about a third of Lyon’s population (15,000) employed in some way in the silk trade. At right, our guide Clémence. She’s standing in front of that beautiful mosaic in the basilica, one of the pictures at top.

Another landmark in Lyon is an ancient Roman amphitheater. In our walk down the hill with our sweet guide (who has a degree in art history) we visited it as well. In my other travels with my DH, we’d visited many Roman amphitheaters in Turkey particularly.

We walked all along the top and around to the other side, then went down to the dais (is that the right use of that word? not sure). Since a couple of my friends had either not seen one of these, nor had they done the most unique thing — walking out to the very center of the “stage” to find the “sweet spot,” usually marked by a stone or something. I did it first – it’s as if you have speakers reverberating back to you – the acoustics are amazing. Other tourists standing up at the very top turned suddenly when I spoke because they could hear me like I was standing next to them. Amazing that the Romans had figured out how to do that! Why don’t we make use of those natural acoustics today?

Along our walk our guide stopped at a bakery. Many of the pastries and desserts made in Lyon are topped with pink praline, usually chopped up of course since they were like candy. Sorry for the reflection in the pastry shop glass. This store is the most famous in Lyon we were told.

Clémence bought us a couple of them – I can’t say that I thought they were anything that special – a doughnut kind of thing with lots of pink praline stuck to the top. There was a long line at the shop, though.

After our guide left us, we were hungry for lunch, so we stopped at a restaurant just 20 yards away and enjoyed a nice lunch sitting outside. I ordered Eggs Muerette, a French dish you never see on menus here (I first had it as an appetizer course on a small barge trip in France in 1995 – does that tell you how memorable it was, that I remember it that well?). I’ve never made it. It’s poached eggs on a little piece of toasted bread and in a pool of red wine sauce. In French it’s Oeufs Meurette. Darlene wanted to try the french fries cooked in duck fat.

They brought her a very large bowl of them, so of course, we all had to have some. They were good, though I actually couldn’t taste the duck fat.

After lunch, it was an easy walk down the rest of the hill, across the river, and back to our cool, quiet apartment.

If  you’ve never been to Lyon, and you’re going to France, you need to put it on your itinerary. It was very special. I’d like to go back there someday. Maybe I will.

As we finished up our meal, the waiter suggested we try the little tiny chocolate tart and have a cup of espresso that came with it.

Oh my. It was divine. The French DO know how to do chocolate and the coffee was perfect. A lovely ending to our tour and our day.

We walked all over the old town and I felt like we had a good overall feeling of the city, though we missed out on seeing some of the landmarks.

I love to take pictures of rock walls. Why? I don’t know. I find them unique – see the patches they’ve done in this one (it was near the amphitheater) with stones and bricks. And then to see the foliage that can’t have much water, yet they seem to thrive, but then they’re likely weeds and don’t need much water!

If you’re interested in finding a tour of Lyon, look for the Tours by Locals half day tour that’s customizable. That’s the one we did.

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In planning the Europe trip that we took in March/April, as we 4 gals looked at a map I mentioned Lyon. It’s not necessarily on the radar for travelers to France. I’d never been there and neither had any of the others. It was close to Geneva (where we’d returned our rental car), easily accessible by train (the TGV), and I’d read that Lyon is the culinary capitol of France.

Joan took on the challenge of planning our 3-day sojourn in Lyon. Once we arrived at the train station we took a taxi to our apartment. Joan had found a very nice, old-world-character-filled 4-bedroom apartment in the heart of downtown. It’s a bit hard to find 4-bedroom apartments, but this one was perfect. The owners (who live an hour or so outside of Lyon) spoke English. You can view info, if you’re interested at this Trip Advisor link. For our 3-night stay we paid about 1000 euros, amounting to about $85/night for each of us. We thought that was a huge bargain. The apartment was very roomy. I’ll intersperse a couple of pictures below. We were there off-season, most likely, so it’s very possible it’s more pricey at different times of the year. Picture above shows the fresh, sweet raspberries.

Most people assume that Paris is the gastronomic capitol of France, but oh no, Lyon is very definitely the titular head of the French culinary world. There are a number of ridiculously expensive restaurants there (we didn’t go to any of them) that specialize in the very classic, old-school French cuisine, all with famous French chefs at the helm. With Paul Bocuse as the king of them all. I’d watched a recent TV show about them (it might have been one of Anthony Bourdain’s series on places around the world and their food) and observed the insane multi-course meals that you must have at these places. None of us was interested in doing that!

So what did we do? Well, the first night we walked out our apartment door (pictured at right – I just love the beautiful, big wood doors so common in Europe) and around the corner to a nice little French bistro and had dinner. Nothing fancy, but we’d had a long travel day and were fine with a simple meal. Joan and Darlene went out food shopping in the mid-afternoon and came back having had so much fun selecting some snacks, coffee, wine, a marvelous baguette, cheese, etc. Plenty of food for our breakfast.

At left is the building. There was a tiny lift inside which would hold 2 people. The owners had met us there when we arrived, had stocked the frig with some ham, cheese, eggs and dairy-fresh butter from a neighbor, some rhubarb jam that the husband had made recently (delicious, by the way), milk and cream for our coffee. I thought that was very kind of them to provide those things. All 4 of us are coffee fans, and Darlene had brought along (and Cherrie too) some of the little Via packets from Starbucks. If you’ve never had them, I must tell you, that instant coffee is pretty darned incredible. It doesn’t taste like typical instant coffee. Anyway, we all enjoyed several cups (Starbucks makes them in several varieties of beans). The apartment had a coffee pot and a tin of coffee, but we were content with the Via and some hot tea one time. (My bedroom in the photo at left.)

The owners had told us that on Sundays (we arrived on Saturday) about 3-4 blocks away, along the side of the river, was an amazing farmer’s market, and that we simply must go. We needed no encouragement. Joan and Darlene were our reconnaissance team (they performed that role in every place we went) and had already staked out the best stalls to visit. The picture up at the top was the meal we had on Sunday evening that we’d procured from the market. We bought a rotisserie chicken from the vendor at right in the picture. It cooked on these tall contraptions (out in the open air). The right side the fat dripped down into a pan. On the left side the fat from the chickens dripped down onto a big pile of small potatoes – oh my were they delicious! We bought the big, fat white asparagus, lovely greens for a salad, including Belgian endive, some chèvre cheese, a Tuscan melon, a fresh pear, two breakfast tarts (kind of like Quiche Lorraine), fresh raspberries and strawberries, fresh Madeleines, several kinds of marinated olives, a pear clafoutis, and the star of the whole show were the slightly larger than cherry sized tomatoes. I think I mentioned it in an earlier post, about the tomatoes – I actually discovered 4 of them in my purse, in a small plastic baggie when I got home to California. I’d not remembered they were IN my purse. They were by far the sweetest tomatoes I’ve ever had in my life.

We had a feast; there simply aren’t any better words for it. Maybe because we’d been eating out at restaurants at least twice a day for a week or so, we savored a home meal. While Joan and Darlene went out shopping to the department stores, Cherrie and I set the table to make it a very nice sit-down dinner for our little group. We had so much fun – we laughed and carried on, big time.

In the dining room cupboards we found a tablecloth and some pretty dishes, and cute little matching placemats. Plus wine glasses and cloth napkins. It was a pretty sight.

There at left are the green and white asparagus at the market. I’m not sure that anyone else in our group had ever had the white asparagus (I had, in Germany, where they call it spargel), so we tried it. All I did was pan sauté them in a little olive oil, then added a little tiny bit of water and steamed them until they were done. Then I added just a little tiny dot of butter to the pan and rolled the, over in it just to barely coat the outsides.

That night we only ate about half of the food we bought and prepared, so we had enough for another feast of left overs the next night. Cold chicken and baguette slices, cheese, and whatever we hadn’t already finished. The only thing we left behind were some of the olives.

The next day we had a very fun time. I think I’ll write up another post about that. Too many more pictures to include in this one entry.

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Even though I took some French classes (for tourists) years ago, and I have a semblance of pronunciation sometimes, I never got the name down pat on this one – the Talloires, yes (like tahl-wah), but the lake, no. In French it’s like ann-sy, not ann-a-sy. I kept wanting to make it 3 syllables when it’s not. Well, whatever the pronunciation, this is one gorgeous spot on our planet.

This place, in a tiny little lake-side location, about 8 miles from the town of Annecy (south of Geneva and on the east side of the lake) is one where my DH and I stayed many years ago. The hotel, L’Abbaye de Talloires had been written up in Gourmet magazine. Back then there was no internet, so I believe I faxed the hotel for reservations and Dave and I stayed here for one or two nights. We were enchanted with the location. And with no GPS’s back then, I don’t know how in the heck we ever found it. We had an exquisite meal in the somewhat formal restaurant and enjoyed sitting outside looking at the lake. And I remember the room we had, too.

At left, the front of the hotel. Isn’t it beautiful?

I remembered the hotel had been an abbey, hence the name, obviously. The rooms in the older section are really beautiful, maintaining the wooded beams. The rooms are cozy (but not small, really) with an attached bath. I requested a room with a view on the side. Nowdays it’s so easy to make reservations – we did it all online. Thank goodness for credit cards. We had rooms in different parts of the hotel. I was in a newer section with a very modern spiffy bathroom and a very nice comfortable room. The hotel has nice amenities, not the least of which is the food! Oh gosh. Our breakfasts, both mornings, well, wow, is all I can say. It was one of the best we had – rivaling the breakfast we had on Lake Brienz. And that one only because they offered muesli. We had dinner at the hotel one night – it was really delicious food. I’m glad we did that. The other night we (with Joan and Darlene making a shopping foray to a little bitty grocery store) did a kind of picnic on the end of the bed in Cherrie’s room. A towel was strategically placed, and we had crackers, cheese, Sprite for sure. Don’t remember what else. I’d told my 3 girlfriends about this hotel, and they were all kind of excited about the thought of staying in an old abbey, so I researched and found it. It is a bit pricey to stay here, but we fully felt it was worth it.

On the full in between day, Joan and Darlene both took walks and hikes (Joan hiked up to nearly the top of a nearby mountain). Darlene walked along part of the lake and took this picture, at right looking back at the hotel.

Cherrie and I, recovering from our tummy upsets of the day before (we don’t know what we ate, but we both seemed to have gotten it, whatever it was) stayed around the hotel and grounds. We walked on the terrace a little, and sat out on the dock area on lounge chairs and talked and enjoyed the sunshine and the view of the lake. We read our books, both took naps, and generally were lazy.

In the early afternoon we were craving some tea, so the kind bartender brought us some out on the sunny terrace. At right, Cherrie and I are sipping Earl Grey. We were feeling SO much better by afternoon, and it was that night we ate dinner in the hotel and enjoyed the food.

We were almost sorry to have to leave after our 2 nights there. It was just so beautiful on Lake Annecy (ann-sy, remember). But there isn’t anything to do in Talloires, really. I suppose in the summer they have swimming and boating. We just took it easy and oohed and aahed about the scenery.

The next morning as we were preparing to leave, Darlene asked the very nice desk clerk if he would take our picture out in their interior courtyard – the cloister.

Our next destination was the Geneva train station. I set the GPS to the street address, and off we went, up over the hills and dales (oh, sorry, dales are in Britain, not France) again. We were still avoiding the autobahn, so we ended up going through many little villages as we’d done on our way there, but it was a completely different route. We finally found the building where we were to drop off the car (that took a little bit of finding). Then we walked a few blocks to the Geneva station and bought our tickets. Off to Lyon next.

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