Thanks to the snarls due to Hurricane Dorian, a mad dash to Europe happened two days earlier than anticipated. Turns out it was decidedly the right call as our original itinerary had us flying to JFK first… and i confirmed that flight was definitely cancelled.
Besides, even with a panicked, stressful curve ball, there’s worse ways to spend time than being stuck in France a few days early.
Things you should never do – try and lose weight whilst on holiday and try and cut back on your alcohol drinking whilst in France.
Things you should do – snap some photos whilst making memories and have the red wine in Bordeaux… it’s cheaper than water.
Training. Before the flight to Bordeaux, I thought it necessary.
If there is such a thing as over training…
…this might be an indication. Red wine spilled on a white blanket. Never a good sign.
Pretty tasty for airline food…
And a dessert worth rousing myself from a drunken stupor.
Looking a little worse for wear…
We arrived in Amsterdam – the Tulips tell it so!
Industrial action, although preannounced, meant we had some strike-induced delays on our final leg.
So I killed some time wandering the Amsterdam airport a bit.
I know I had had a few on the flight, but I really couldn’t figure out what the push, pull thing was here. Mom suggested to unlock the cart for use you had to push it forward and then pull it out of the line.
Despite my Samsung’s wide-angle lens, I’m not sure this reads properly. The name of the piece is “The Four Seasons.” I see only two sculptures. Maybe each one has two seasons? I don’t get art. I know what I like, but I don’t get it. Sidenote: I don’t think I like this.
One last hop until Bordeaux!
The skies above Europe don’t look nearly as ominous as Brexit and G7 news would have you believe.
A quick “snack” before landing. Looks like I picked the wrong week to try and lose some weight.
At the Bordeaux baggage claim, wine already flows.
The Uber app told us to meet our driver at the big wine bottle. There are A LOT of big wine bottles (see previous photo at baggage claim)..
But we finally figured it out.
Lunch in Bordeaux…
Some classic caesar salads.
With a Hurrican Dorian tribute — cones of uncertainty!
The reflecting pool.
Following my route markers.
I thought this funny because my brother’s name is Steve. Only later when I found out it was regarding social injustices and a mysterious death involving police and young people did the tone-deaf-ness of my posting this strike a chord. I’m still posting it with full acknowledgement. It’s less fun but perhaps more important.
For the record, this is the translated phrasing of the details: “Three weeks after the death of Steve Maia Caniço during a party violently dispersed by the police in Nantes, political reactions are still rare.” Protestors continue to demand the truth and ask “Where is Steve?”
A better reflecting pool shot.
Mmmmmm. Onion rings with a side of sweet and sour sauce. Delish.
I don’t think I’m supposed to tip in France… at least, I haven’t been. But I did tip here.
Moon over Bordeaux.
Rue Denise at Dusk.
Another day, another run.
This draw bridge literally sees the bridge drawn — between the columns, the rntire bridge section raisers/lowers.
A different angle on the bridge.
Monument aux Girondin – a 20th Century tribute to a French Revolution political party wiped out by Robiespere in his “Reign of Terror.”
Mom and me with the monument.
One side of the monument is to commerce, the other to naviagtion (seagoing).
Afterwards, I took Mom for the hautest of haute cuisine — my salad was on “close to sell by date” clearance.
We took the metro to the Grand Theater…
Mom at the stop after getting off…
Which stop? Why, she’s RIGHT HERE!
It doesn’t matter where we go, it doesn’t matter what time of year we go — the churches are always covered in scaffolding and under renovation. ALWAYS.
Porte de Bourgogne, the triumphal arch marking the entrance to Bordeaux City Centre. Mom looks great — I looked terrible… so CROPPITY CROP CROP!
Mom spotted this cool building/fortification. Meant to google the name but… meh.
Photo credit: My Mom. Nailed it.
A Tale of Two Photos — I looked awful, mom looked great. It is a far, far better photo here.
Place de la Bourse. A nice French woman (she was nice, not from Nice) offered to take the photo for us. Would that my French had been better. All I could say was “Magnifique! Merci!”
Two things are now the lingua franca, having replaced French as the seemingly agreed accepted language for doing business: English and Alcohol. I speak both marginally well.
You can’t see it, but there IS a “T” around the side. Though I also support saving the plane.
Our dinner options at Chai Les Copains.
A delightfully fruity red.
An abundance of salade.
Salud, Mom! She had the sea bass; it was way better than my prawn salad… plus it had risotto.
You’d think a place with Popeye and Jaws menus and a penguin standee holding ice cream would be a RESPECTABLE place to have a final meal before joining the TravellingFit itinerary.
I had such high hopes…
And since Mom prefers white to red…
We went with a Bordeaux Blanc.
But Mom’s salmon did NOT come with its promised puff pastry and me sea bass was boney.
We opted not to go for dessert here…
But instead went for McDonald’s cones… which were vastly superior to their American counterparts.
Aussie, Aussie, Aussie! Oi, oi, oi!