Having to work with the strike, I discovered that a train left Montparnasse station on Friday morning at 7:25. Because of the strike, I just jumped onto the train that morning and never had to show a ticket. Once I was on the train, the stress finally passed because I had been worried the last week that I would not get to go on my vacation. The 8 hr trip was bearable with the fact that I nearly finished the one leisure book I brought for this 4-month Euro-trip. I would have brought more it’s just there wasn’t space. Anyway my first stop was Lourdes a small town close to the middle part of the Pyrenees Mountains that is famous for being a holy city because of a saint being buried there. This Saint Bernadette supposedly saw Mary in revelations and when she died her body didn’t compose over 50 years. I got off the train a little tired but ready to make my pilgrimage so to speak because I am technically still Catholic. And as hard as this is for me to admit it, I actually was interested and curious about the whole thing and it wasn’t just a photo-op for the parents. On the way to the entrance of Jesusland, I passed about 20 stores that sold religious items all made in China, so I was skeptical to really buy anything. I did buy small vials for the holy water that comes out of the rock that she is buried in. I entered the area called La Grotte and on the way passed a tour bus full of Asians probably Koreans and also the nuns who I sat next to on the train and almost stold their seat. I didn’t have an actual ticket for the train because of the strike, so I kind of felt like a stowaway trying to find empty seats.
The Basilica that is built on top of this grave is situated next to a river fed by water from the nearby mountains. The whole area was colorful because being autumn, the leaves had all changed colors making me feel that I was back in Kent with bigger mountains in the background. There was such an essence of beauty and piety that actually did captivate me to believe a little more than I already do. Anyway I toured the outside of the basilica for the inside was under construction. On the side there were water fountains/spouts for the water that people filled up their bottles, trinkets, and kegs. The latter was made up but then again it would be awesome to have a kegger party with holy water. I tried a little bit of the water and judging by its mineral taste, I concluded that it came from the river. But considering that it is a sacred place and it has supposedly cured others in the past of their maladies, I respected it. There were tons of people there, mostly the elderly and sick, which left me probably the youngest by a few decades, but nonetheless it was a religious experience. I don’t know if I have found my religion once again, but it certainly adds another plank to the rail. Last note, on the way out I saw the bunker church that could probably hold services for 10 thousand people underground in a cement amphitheatre that would make the Romans proud.
I had to hurry back to the train station because there Jean-Louis was waiting for me to take me to Bagneres-de-Bigorres the town that I was staying in. Jean-Louis is a friend of my host-mom Charlotte, who I met in September when they came to visit Paris. Jean-Louis in my view is your classical Southern Frenchman. He has a strong accent that has mix of not only the local region but that of Germany where he lived for many years as well. The French language of the Pyrenees or at least the part I was in that is far from the Basque country is that of the difference between northern and southern dialects in the US. Unlike Parisian French, the silent syllables are pronounced mostly the e’s which also get added on the end of words. At first it was hard to understand but once my brain downloaded the translation guide I was good. (I will give the person who knows what movie I am vaguely referencing, a French bottle of wine) Getting back to Jean-Louis, the coolest part about him was his handlebar mustache and the fact that he was in an Airborne Division in the French army for many years. Apparently up until many years ago, French military service was mandatory for all able-bodied males. When asked at the dinner table about me having to serve, I said that I thought about it but I felt that it could do a lot of kids good in the US. Jean-Louis brought me back to his home in Bagneres-de-Bigorres where I met his wife and was set up in the largest room I’ve seen in France above their garage with my very own TV and standup shower. That night we had dinner with Jacqueline the other friend of Charlotte that I was traveling around with. She is a small-business entrepreneur who is constantly active. After dinner she dragged me kicking and screaming to Tarbes where she was taking a class in Classical Irish dance.
Now as everyone knows I need to be in a certain state of mind in order to dance and the wine that I drank at dinner was not really condusive to the spin-friendly dance moves of this class. But being my first time, I did not shame myself as in I didn’t taste the floor. I was so good in fact that the instructor gave me a whole packet explaining everything that I had to do. Now the instructions were in English and most of the names in the class were as well but it still was impossible to clearly instruct me due to my not dance-friendly legs. Let’s just say the workout was enough for me to sleep very well that night. The next day was filled with breakfast where Jean-Louis’ wife stuffed me with food, but hey I wasn’t going to complain. The next morning, Jean-Louis took me into the town to experience a country market where I was able to try the different cheeses of the Pyrenees which I have to say were very strong considering they came from female sheep. I also tried Armagnac which is like Cognac but only distilled once. Tasted just like Whiskey Bourbon for me; I was able to get a small glass of it because not only did my host explain that I was American, but also I bought a small bottle of Floc Gascogne. This is a very sweet white wine aperitif that I actually really enjoyed the night before. That afternoon, Jacqueline had a business meeting in Pau a nearby town which is beautiful and well-known. So we took the long way and ended up driving over a few mountains and driving parallel with clouds. A friend of hers, Jean-Pierre accompanied us to Pau and the drive through the mountains which I have to say was a little frightful considering her speed on the roads that didn’t have side barriers.
Being in Pau felt like I was in US or at least the really nice part did aside from the big chateau. There was a part of the city that looked very French with the chateau in the middle and then there was the newer part that was American. This newer part consisted of a center square that was just recently built along with enough chain apartment stores to make any American woman or man feel satisfied with the size of things here. Jacqueline was here to look at a piece of property that she was turning into a teahouse and so I actually accompanied her and talked through the planning. All my ideas required too much work and effort, oh well…at least I tried to be innovative or maybe I just wanted to show some of the vision that America has to offer the world. Haha, I got to see the sunset over a large chain of the Pyrenees which I would actually hike a bit the following day. That night and every night of the three days I stayed there, I had regional foods including: everything-in-the-fridge tart, mushrooms picked from the mountains a few days before I came, confit du conard (Duck), a pork sausage made from blood, many different strong cheeses, and a local soup. Don’t even get me started on soup; it’s been one of the things I have lacked since being in France especially with winter setting in. I tried everything even though I have a history of being picky, for one I loved the mushrooms which comes as a revelation because for 20 years they have been boycotted by my brain.
The last day of my trip consisted of waking up really early in the morning (10AM) and going with Jean-Louis, Jean-Pierre, Jean-Christophe (me) and Jacqueline on a trip into the mountains. It was a beautiful day and I was able to take pictures like the ones posted above. We ended up eating lunch in a part of the national park of the Pyrenees at the foot of the chain. This ‘picnic’ consisted of 4 courses with silverware and wine. Not a bad thing living in a civilized country. I even got to try bacon that was from a black pig. The climate was very dry which was ironic because on top of the mountains there were chains of lakes and several waterfalls. Also the temperature would fluctuate ten degrees in a span of 15 minutes depending on the movement of the sun. I know that’s obvious but still weird to experience being 10 degrees colder in an area where only 5 feet in front of you it’s warmer. After packing up, we drove to Gavernie which is a very popular tourist site. From there you could take trails into the mountains that in 5 hours of walking would get you into Spain. I wanted badly to do that but judging that I was leaving for Paris in 5 hours I couldn’t. Instead the four of us hiked to the base of a very large waterfall or water-trickle as it was. The mountain air made it hard to breath at first but as you started walking and running up the first stage of the mountain it felt really good. As I was told a week in the mountains is a good remedy for just about anything: clean air and mountain spring water. We eventually had to turn back because of the time and ended the hike with a stop at closing brasserie for some ‘vin chauds’ or hot wines. Honest to god, this was a hot drink that consisted of hot red wine with herbs and sliced apples inside. Considering that DUI in this country doesn’t translate because of the lack of policemen; (probably on strike that they can only have time for one round of doughnuts and not two) we jumped in the car and headed home. What was very amusing for me was that we had about 4 hours to spare before I had to leave for my train and the others were getting worried that there wouldn’t be enough time to eat dinner and for me to pack. The latter took only 5 minutes so we had more time, which was ample enough to eat our food let alone digest it.
I said my goodbyes and got addresses for letters that will be written in the coming months. I know this is long but they were some of the nicest people I have met in a long time considering I was a stranger to them and was accepted once I was able to establish my ‘esprit’ or the fact I wasn’t a dumb American and actually cared about their culture. The best analogy for the Pyrenees and the surrounding towns is an amalgam of the northeast with Denver and a slice of Florida if you can imagine that. Palm trees/lizards, pine trees, and the yellow and orange colors of fall leaves in a background of relatively large mountains. I definitely want to come back one day, which will add an even longer, I know it’s hard to imagine, volume to this story. Getting back to Montparnasse at 6AM on Monday with a French test at 10 was stressful but turned out well in the end. I guess it was just continuing the theme of the trip.
The Basilica that is built on top of this grave is situated next to a river fed by water from the nearby mountains. The whole area was colorful because being autumn, the leaves had all changed colors making me feel that I was back in Kent with bigger mountains in the background. There was such an essence of beauty and piety that actually did captivate me to believe a little more than I already do. Anyway I toured the outside of the basilica for the inside was under construction. On the side there were water fountains/spouts for the water that people filled up their bottles, trinkets, and kegs. The latter was made up but then again it would be awesome to have a kegger party with holy water. I tried a little bit of the water and judging by its mineral taste, I concluded that it came from the river. But considering that it is a sacred place and it has supposedly cured others in the past of their maladies, I respected it. There were tons of people there, mostly the elderly and sick, which left me probably the youngest by a few decades, but nonetheless it was a religious experience. I don’t know if I have found my religion once again, but it certainly adds another plank to the rail. Last note, on the way out I saw the bunker church that could probably hold services for 10 thousand people underground in a cement amphitheatre that would make the Romans proud.
I had to hurry back to the train station because there Jean-Louis was waiting for me to take me to Bagneres-de-Bigorres the town that I was staying in. Jean-Louis is a friend of my host-mom Charlotte, who I met in September when they came to visit Paris. Jean-Louis in my view is your classical Southern Frenchman. He has a strong accent that has mix of not only the local region but that of Germany where he lived for many years as well. The French language of the Pyrenees or at least the part I was in that is far from the Basque country is that of the difference between northern and southern dialects in the US. Unlike Parisian French, the silent syllables are pronounced mostly the e’s which also get added on the end of words. At first it was hard to understand but once my brain downloaded the translation guide I was good. (I will give the person who knows what movie I am vaguely referencing, a French bottle of wine) Getting back to Jean-Louis, the coolest part about him was his handlebar mustache and the fact that he was in an Airborne Division in the French army for many years. Apparently up until many years ago, French military service was mandatory for all able-bodied males. When asked at the dinner table about me having to serve, I said that I thought about it but I felt that it could do a lot of kids good in the US. Jean-Louis brought me back to his home in Bagneres-de-Bigorres where I met his wife and was set up in the largest room I’ve seen in France above their garage with my very own TV and standup shower. That night we had dinner with Jacqueline the other friend of Charlotte that I was traveling around with. She is a small-business entrepreneur who is constantly active. After dinner she dragged me kicking and screaming to Tarbes where she was taking a class in Classical Irish dance.
Now as everyone knows I need to be in a certain state of mind in order to dance and the wine that I drank at dinner was not really condusive to the spin-friendly dance moves of this class. But being my first time, I did not shame myself as in I didn’t taste the floor. I was so good in fact that the instructor gave me a whole packet explaining everything that I had to do. Now the instructions were in English and most of the names in the class were as well but it still was impossible to clearly instruct me due to my not dance-friendly legs. Let’s just say the workout was enough for me to sleep very well that night. The next day was filled with breakfast where Jean-Louis’ wife stuffed me with food, but hey I wasn’t going to complain. The next morning, Jean-Louis took me into the town to experience a country market where I was able to try the different cheeses of the Pyrenees which I have to say were very strong considering they came from female sheep. I also tried Armagnac which is like Cognac but only distilled once. Tasted just like Whiskey Bourbon for me; I was able to get a small glass of it because not only did my host explain that I was American, but also I bought a small bottle of Floc Gascogne. This is a very sweet white wine aperitif that I actually really enjoyed the night before. That afternoon, Jacqueline had a business meeting in Pau a nearby town which is beautiful and well-known. So we took the long way and ended up driving over a few mountains and driving parallel with clouds. A friend of hers, Jean-Pierre accompanied us to Pau and the drive through the mountains which I have to say was a little frightful considering her speed on the roads that didn’t have side barriers.
Being in Pau felt like I was in US or at least the really nice part did aside from the big chateau. There was a part of the city that looked very French with the chateau in the middle and then there was the newer part that was American. This newer part consisted of a center square that was just recently built along with enough chain apartment stores to make any American woman or man feel satisfied with the size of things here. Jacqueline was here to look at a piece of property that she was turning into a teahouse and so I actually accompanied her and talked through the planning. All my ideas required too much work and effort, oh well…at least I tried to be innovative or maybe I just wanted to show some of the vision that America has to offer the world. Haha, I got to see the sunset over a large chain of the Pyrenees which I would actually hike a bit the following day. That night and every night of the three days I stayed there, I had regional foods including: everything-in-the-fridge tart, mushrooms picked from the mountains a few days before I came, confit du conard (Duck), a pork sausage made from blood, many different strong cheeses, and a local soup. Don’t even get me started on soup; it’s been one of the things I have lacked since being in France especially with winter setting in. I tried everything even though I have a history of being picky, for one I loved the mushrooms which comes as a revelation because for 20 years they have been boycotted by my brain.
The last day of my trip consisted of waking up really early in the morning (10AM) and going with Jean-Louis, Jean-Pierre, Jean-Christophe (me) and Jacqueline on a trip into the mountains. It was a beautiful day and I was able to take pictures like the ones posted above. We ended up eating lunch in a part of the national park of the Pyrenees at the foot of the chain. This ‘picnic’ consisted of 4 courses with silverware and wine. Not a bad thing living in a civilized country. I even got to try bacon that was from a black pig. The climate was very dry which was ironic because on top of the mountains there were chains of lakes and several waterfalls. Also the temperature would fluctuate ten degrees in a span of 15 minutes depending on the movement of the sun. I know that’s obvious but still weird to experience being 10 degrees colder in an area where only 5 feet in front of you it’s warmer. After packing up, we drove to Gavernie which is a very popular tourist site. From there you could take trails into the mountains that in 5 hours of walking would get you into Spain. I wanted badly to do that but judging that I was leaving for Paris in 5 hours I couldn’t. Instead the four of us hiked to the base of a very large waterfall or water-trickle as it was. The mountain air made it hard to breath at first but as you started walking and running up the first stage of the mountain it felt really good. As I was told a week in the mountains is a good remedy for just about anything: clean air and mountain spring water. We eventually had to turn back because of the time and ended the hike with a stop at closing brasserie for some ‘vin chauds’ or hot wines. Honest to god, this was a hot drink that consisted of hot red wine with herbs and sliced apples inside. Considering that DUI in this country doesn’t translate because of the lack of policemen; (probably on strike that they can only have time for one round of doughnuts and not two) we jumped in the car and headed home. What was very amusing for me was that we had about 4 hours to spare before I had to leave for my train and the others were getting worried that there wouldn’t be enough time to eat dinner and for me to pack. The latter took only 5 minutes so we had more time, which was ample enough to eat our food let alone digest it.
I said my goodbyes and got addresses for letters that will be written in the coming months. I know this is long but they were some of the nicest people I have met in a long time considering I was a stranger to them and was accepted once I was able to establish my ‘esprit’ or the fact I wasn’t a dumb American and actually cared about their culture. The best analogy for the Pyrenees and the surrounding towns is an amalgam of the northeast with Denver and a slice of Florida if you can imagine that. Palm trees/lizards, pine trees, and the yellow and orange colors of fall leaves in a background of relatively large mountains. I definitely want to come back one day, which will add an even longer, I know it’s hard to imagine, volume to this story. Getting back to Montparnasse at 6AM on Monday with a French test at 10 was stressful but turned out well in the end. I guess it was just continuing the theme of the trip.
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