An English Yuletide

To give you an idea of what a relaxing Christmas holiday I had, I could not for the life of me remember the password to logon to my computer at work this morning. Yeah, after about eight attempts, the system locked me out and I had to call the IT help desk to reset all my info. How embarrassing!

Most of the credit for the 58 photos in this entry goes to Greg who’s fancy camera and artistic eye led to much greater shots than I could ever capture – to the point that I quit carrying my camera by excursion day 3. Yes, there are 58 photos to come, but that is edited down from the 439 I nicked from his camera all taken over the 10 days we were together.

Mom, Dad & Greg arrived on Saturday, a week & a day before Christmas. We met them at Paddington Station about 10am and headed down to the hotel where we were staying so they could drop off luggage. Mom & Dad are building a new house in Texas, well two really, but that’s a longer story than I have time for at the moment. They sold their old house in May, just before we left the country and moved in to the Marriott Hotel for a month or so until the house they were building was complete. Building delays transpired and a couple of months in a hotel became just over 7. Needless to say, the Powells now have about 15 less Marriott points than J. Willard Marriott himself. So when we walked into the London Marriott Hotel County Hall, the red carpet started rolling out. This was definitely the nicest hotel Adam & I have stayed at in a very long time. And, oh yeah, the hotel was just outside the London Eye & across the River Thames from the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey.




We decided to go on the London Eye. The Eye is basically a giant Ferris wheel (with enclosed capsules that you can walk around inside of). It’s amazing how smooth the ride is -- you hardly realize that it’s moving or that you’re going up ... until you look down & remember how high you are.









We had lunch and walked around Big Ben, Parliament, and Westminster Abbey.


Then we headed over to Harrods. Mom was amazed by the variety of items spread out over the 5 acres footprint spread over 6 floors to occupy nearly one million square feet. Some of our favorite things were the 30+ cafes within the store and the pet department (even Link would be jealous of some of the items in there!). The boys, Adam, Greg & Dad, were slightly less thrilled but played along nicely as the girls oooed & ahhhed. They even let us walk along the outside windows in the near 30 degree weather.



We had dinner and headed back to the hotel where jetlag took over.


The next day we had a leisurely morning with breakfast then headed for the train station to go to Bristol. After successfully conquering the ticket machine, the smooth ride of the train was too much for Mom & Dad. For those keeping score at home; it’s jetlag – 2, Powells – 0.



Monday we headed out to Croft Castle and Berrington Hall. Adam & I had been to Croft Castle before & knew we wanted to take Mom there. As an added touch, there was some remaining snow on the grounds and the houses were decorated for Christmas. Berrington Hall is very different than Croft in that it was purpose built as a large mansion rather than being built and added to through its history. The room layout was more organized and cohesive. I am, however, a bit worried for Dad now because I have a feeling the decoration plans for the new townhouse just became English Manor house style.





Tuesday & Wednesday, we stayed near home with just short trips to the grocery store where Mom & Greg confirmed that the store was laid out in the most confusing, disorganized way possible. I’ve had to make a map of the store that lists what is on every aisle so I can find what I need. All except for the baked beans. There is literally an entire aisle devoted to baked beans.

We also went to the Bristol Pantomime. A panto, as they refer to the show as, is musical-comedy theatre around Christmas. Each city will put on a panto and almost all are based on traditional children's stories or nursery rhymes. The Bristol Panto this year was Peter Pan with special guest star David Hasselhoff as Captain Hook. (Hoff the Hook, hahaha) Audience participation is highly encouraged and every child in the audience with us knew to yell ‘He's behind you!’ or ‘boooo!’ when Captain Hook appeared. At the end was the traditional panto sing-a-long. I wish I could have recorded Dad standing up to sing "Pasties my favorite food; yo ho ho, yum yum yum." Maybe you can get him to sing it for you sometime.


Thursday we drove up to Stratford-upon-Avon, birthplace of William Shakespeare. Since the last time I visited, nearly 10 years ago, they’ve added a large welcome center & interactive exhibits, but the house is largely the same. For millions of Shakespeare enthusiasts worldwide, the house is a shrine. It’s also been a tourist attraction for several hundred years. Well-known visitors have included Charles Dickens, John Keats, Walter Scott, Thomas Hardy and the Powell family.





From there we drove down to Oxford. I spent a semester in college studying there, so it was nice to go back to my old house & see the neighbourhood. It looked mostly the same as 10 years ago. We then walked down to Christ Church College and walked through the grounds. And we managed to do so without breaking any 200+ year old trees...Amber.



Friday we drove southeast to Stonehenge and Salisbury (no, we didn’t eat any steak). We had been having pretty mild and dry weather (for England...it was only raining in 20 minute bursts 2-3 times a day), but Friday, the day we were to be outside alot, it turned cold & rained nearly solid. We braved Stonehenge. It never ceases to amaze. Nobody can say for certain why it’s there. Calendar, maybe. Religious alter, probably at some point. Burial grounds, yes – however recent carbon dating has put the age of the people much later in history than the stones being raised. All in all, still really cool.

I love the picture of Greg & Adam in their coordinating hats. Such a special bond of brothers.




We headed over to Salisbury to see the Cathedral and the Magna Carta. By this point it was pouring, so we pretty much ran from the car park to the Cathedral (about ½ mile). In the feeble attempt to stay dry we didn’t get any pictures of the outside of the Cathedral, so a few from the inside will have to suffice. The Cathedral is unique amongst medieval English cathedrals having been built in just 38 years (1220 - 1258) in a single architectural style. The tower and spire (Britain’s tallest at 404ft) were added about 50 years later. Dad bought a book on the architecture and building of the cathedral. If you start to see the structure of an early English Gothic church just outside of Lampasas, let me know.

The Cathedral is also home to the best preserved of only four surviving original Magna Carta from 1215 and the oldest working clock from 1386. The Magna Carta is 560 years older than the Declaration of Independence at the National Archives, but this copy is so much more readable – assuming you know Latin. What I mean is the pigments are much more intact than on the Declaration. We’re not sure if it’s from the surface it’s written on or the inks used or just the preservation techniques. I have no pictures to prove any of what I’m saying because of the no photography rules, so you’ll just have to imagine. Or come visit & I’ll take you.




We’d thought about going to the Roman Baths on the way home, but as it was still raining and getting colder, we decided to leave the city and the baths for the next day. Saturday morning we ate some scones complete with clotted cream and jam. We started our tour with the Abbey. Not as old as Salisbury Cathedral, not quite as big either, but equally impressive in architecture and history.




We went on the walking tour of the city that Adam & I had taken previously, but we had a different guide who pointed out different things and had different jokes. One thing new that I found fascinating was the cleaning of the building exteriors. The stone used to build most of the buildings is really soft so it absorbed all the chimney smoke and soot over the years. However, the buildings couldn’t be sand blasted because it would essentially deteriorate the facades of the buildings so they have had to literally wash each building by hand. Most of the work was undertaken in the 1980’s & 90’s. Here’s an example of a building that has been washed next to one that hasn’t yet. What a difference.


After the tour we went through the roman baths. The water really is warm and soothing – don’t worry, I only put my hand in, and I didn’t do it infront of the ‘Do not touch the water’ sign. Oopsie. There was something very strange about being in an ancient Roman Bath on Christmas Eve.



Fweew. We made it to Christmas Day. Think you’re tired reading about the adventure? Get a cookie & keep reading.

We decided to sleep in so that if Santa could visit all the houses with small children who wake up early first. We had breakfast and opened stockings and gifts. The girls got new bones. We let them go first & there wasn’t another peep out of them the rest of the morning. Also, though I’d like you to think that I stare lovingly into Adam’s eyes all the time, I was really just trying to convince him to give me the gift he was opening. It didn’t work.






Adam seasoned up Tobias and put him in the oven. Random side note on cooking. Most of my recipes are in US measurement standards (cups, tablespoons, etc) as are all the measuring cups that I brought from home. However, anything you buy over here (butter being the prime example) has to be converted back (butter comes in 250 gram packages which equates to about 2 sticks). Then everything has to be adjusted for baking temperatures (all my recipes are fahrenheit & the oven is celsius – plus one of the ovens has a fan in it, like a convection oven, so you have to reduce the temperature by 25* C and the cooking time by 10 minutes for every hour). It’s a good thing I have alot of calculators!


Another of my favorite British holiday traditions are Christmas Crackers. A cracker is a cardboard tube wrapped in decorated paper to resemble an oversized Tootsie Roll (ours had lots of glitter, which I hope was edible because I’m pretty sure we all ingested a bit). Before dinner, you pull the cracker with your neighbor so that the cracker ‘pops’ (they make a bang or snapping sound from the friction on the silver fulminate card strip) then splits. Inside crackers is always a crown and toy of some sort – some cheesier than others – and a joke – pretty much all cheesy.

For Jonathan:
Question: What should you do if you see a spaceman?
Answer: Park in it, man.

Still funny!





Monday, we went into Bristol since we figured everyone might want to see the city where we actually live. We took them up to the suspension bridge and Mom successfully answered the quiz questions. I’m not going to tell you what the questions are because you too will have to answer them when you come. It’s part of the cost of your room & board.





We walked along the locks that allowed ships to come into the Bristol harbour during high tide. Modern cargo ships are too large to fit through the locks, so the locks are mostly used now for small sail boats and to regulate the ‘old cut’ of the river through the city (thus eliminating the massive tidal swings we have here – it’s nearly 26 ft between high & low tides).



Finally, we located the much sought (by Mom) statue of Cary Grant. She’d told us all week that there was a statue of him in Bristol. Adam & I couldn’t think of where it could be. Finally we Googled it and discovered that it was in Millennium Square. Millennium Square where I have eaten lunch a couple dozen times. Millennium Square, a few blocks from some apartments we tried to rent. Hmm. We got there and sure enough, we had actually eaten lunch on a bench next to the statue. Guess we need to work on our observation skills. So, um, found it!



They headed back to London Tuesday morning, then flew home on Thursday. We stayed in Bristol. Adam finished writing his term papers for school and is working hard on watching a Doctor Who marathon. I’ve taken down all the Christmas decor, washed linens and remade the beds. We’re all set for your visit.

It's beginning to look alot like Christmas

We’re decking our halls!




Ever since the wreath-falling-on-the-head incident of 2009, the girls have learned not to sleep directly below the pinecones.


We found a tree farm where we could cut down our own tree. Well, the staff actually use the saws, but it’s still alot fresher than any tree we’ve ever bought from Home Depot. Plus the farm named their trees. I just thought that was cool. As we walked through the rows of ‘Tom’ and ‘Rose’ and ‘Paris’, we saw a tree that we liked. When we got over to it & read the tag, we knew it had to be our tree.


We got it home and added the lights & ornaments to it. Then we realized that it was too tall to put the angel on, so Adam had to do a little post decoration trimming.


It’s going to be difficult to find the pickle this year...


Only one more week until Mom, Dad & Greg P arrive to help us celebrate the season!!

Six Months

Tuesday was our 6 month anniversary of being in the UK. It’s really hard to realize that we are already a quarter of our way through our time here. I feel like I’ve finally gotten my feet under me at work – or at least I know enough to know who to ask when I have no clue what is going on.

To celebrate my anniversary, my team took me to dinner at a Thai restaurant. Those who know me well can guess that I didn’t pick the restaurant, but I still had a great time.


We have been so blessed by friends and family on both continents through this journey so far. People who wished us well on leaving the US to those who have welcomed us to their country and helped us settle in. To all of you, thank you.

Leap of faith

True Story. This has been the absolute hardest blog topic for me to write. Education is simply not something I enjoy talking about. I never did very well in school growing up and as I’ve gotten older I’ve come to realize that the one-size fits all educational system virtually all of us grew up in actually fits very few. For today, I will avoid the tangent that will lead to several rants about the inadequacies of how we educate, and the ineptitude of academics in general, and instead I will redirect my musings to the more enjoyable aspects of university life.

The program I am enrolled in is an International MBA with an emphasis in entrepreneurship that I hope will lead to better career opportunities when Amanda and I return to DFW in a few years. Classes for the first semester began in early September and run through December 16th. The structure in terms of assessment is quite a bit different than what I am used to. Most of those who are readying this were probably subjected to take home assignments and multiple in class tests that take place throughout the semester. This program however requires very little in the way of daily assessment and relies on only an exam and a 2,500 to 3,000 word essay at the end of the course. This makes testing a bit more stressful than I remember it.

For those who are interested I am taking four courses this semester spread over four days. Monday afternoon is Managing Human Resources, Tuesday I have Managing Decisions (accounting), Wednesday is Delivering Customer Value (marketing) and Thursday is Management in a Complex World (economics). The most entertaining course is economics surprisingly with accounting coming in a close second.

The best part of the course is getting to meet new people and learn about different cultures and ways of life. Of the twenty three students in the program, I am the only American. There is also only one native of the UK in the course as well. A majority of the students are from India and Nigeria, however we also have students from Spain, Italy, Greece, Poland, Jordan and Vietnam. With a group as diverse as this you can’t help but learn new ways to see the world and challenge your ideas and opinions about virtually everything. It has already been a tremendous growing experience and I’m sure that will continue over the next several months.

One of the best experiences I have had occurred during a two day excursion to Alton about a month ago. The first day we spent discussing the differences between personality types and received results from the Type Dynamics Indicator we took a few weeks prior (think Myers/Briggs). The next day we went to Lasham Training Centre which is a ropes course that provides motivational and team building activities. We spent the morning playing on the low ropes course, working on communication and trying to put the ideas we learned the previous day into practice. After that they took us to the high ropes course. High ropes course is something that I have always been terrified of. I don’t like heights and to be honest, I find it difficult to trust others with things that are important, and a high ropes course manages to combine both of those personal difficulties into one exceedingly terrifying moment.

When we made it down to the high ropes course I listened attentively to the safety brief never once actually considering attempting it. I made certain to actively help on the belay in hopes that no one would notice I hadn’t attempted any of the obstacles. My plan didn’t work. One of my classmates, Nidhi, had noticed that I still hadn’t attempted any of the obstacles and encouraged me to try one. Seeing as I tend towards the stubborn side I was reluctant to be persuaded. She stuck with it and eventually talked me into it. We decided to do the 30 foot high standard pole that had a trapeze we were supposed to jump to as well.

To be honest it seemed the least frightening of the three options to me. We decided I should go up first so I got all hooked up and slowly crawled up the pole. It felt like it took forever and my progress probably wasn’t helped by the fact that I couldn’t open my eyes. Once I made it to the top however I had to open my eyes in order to stand on the platform and found myself nearly frozen with fear. It took several minutes and some very calm direction from one of the instructors to get me into a sitting position.

Amazingly once I had moved from the kneeling position, in which I felt certain doom was approaching, to the sitting position I felt encouraged enough to stand. It took a few more excruciatingly tense moments but I finally managed to stand at the top of the platform and await the arrival Nidhi. She was far more comfortable with the climb than I was and once she made it to the top all that was left was a leap to the trapeze.

We talked our way through the upcoming leap and committed to going through with the jump on a count of three. At this point we were so focused on getting to the trapeze I had nearly forgotten I was precariously perched thirty feet in the air with a thin nylon rope as my only real protection from falling. Once the decision to jump was made it took another brief moment to gain the courage to jump but on the count of three we lunged for the trapeze. Unfortunately we didn’t jump at the same speed and while I managed to grab hold of the trapeze my momentum pushed it out Nihdi’s reach. The nylon rope and one of our classmates on belay prevented Nidhi from falling and quickly lowered her to the ground while I hung on for dear life swaying back and forth. It was while Nidhi was being lowered that I again realized how far up I was began to find the idea of letting go of the trapeze rather difficult. Our instructor however assured me no harm would come and pulled his end of the rope as much as he could to help me realize that I was still protected from the fall. Being physically drained from the climb up and emotionally exhausted from the whole experience I gave in released the trapeze. The first few moments felt like freefall but quickly the rope slowed my fall and I was let down slowly and gently.

The rest of the afternoon was rather surreal. Every one of my classmates came to congratulate me on facing my fears and several told me it was inspirational to watch. I certainly appreciate the encouragement and kind words but truthfully even now I don’t find what I did to be all that inspiring. I understand fear a little better than I did before and know that while I faced my fear of heights that day, I by no means have conquered it. I also know that trusting others is still something that I must work on if I am ever going to achieve some of the things I hope to. It was a big step in the right direction though and I am extremely grateful for all the support I felt that day when I faced my biggest fear.

Since that trip, we have been focusing our assessments and trying to take what we’ve learned from our classes and each other and apply it to our studies. For the most part it has been a thoroughly enjoyable experience and with the approach of Christmas break (that’s right, they call it Christmas break here) I can begin looking forward to the second half of the course.

Nos vacances à la recherche d'une crêpe en Turquie

As a teaser, and in case you get bored half way through reading & just want the highlights, other titles considered for this were:
• it’s against the law in French to provide a shower curtain
• wow, that’s really big
• if I go up another spiral staircase, I’ll never regain my equilibrium
• I promise I wore different sweaters every day of the trip, but it was too cold to take off the coat, scarf, hat, and gloves for each picture
• you shouldn’t take longer to get through airport security than you will be in the air

And on to the post.

As you know, Adam has gone back to school to get his MBA. He promises he’s writing a post about his experience, but things like term papers, studying for exams and commenting on the BBTIA baseball blog keep getting in his way. However, two weeks ago he had mid terms; then last week his Thursday class was cancelled (and he doesn’t ever have Friday classes). So, we decided a four day weekend called for a trip to the continent. Paris it was decided.

We flew out of Birmingham. The Bristol airport is about 45 minutes from our house whereas the Birmingham airport is about an hour & half drive, but they have different discount airlines at the two. Flybe out of Birmingham turned out to be about£150 cheaper for our flight, so very worth the extra miles. Getting to the airport, going through security, the flight, and off loading were all pretty uneventful – which is a good thing! They even stamped my passport without me having to ask.


Upon arriving at the airport in Paris, we stopped to purchase museum passes and train / metro tickets. Paris has museum passes for a flat rate that let you into nearly all the top tourist destinations (with the exception of the Effiel Tower). We’d tallied up the places we wanted to go and it was about the same cost as the pass for two days, however with the pass you get to skip all the lines to buy tickets at each place. We decided it was worth paying a bit more to not stand in line. In hindsight, one billion percent worth it. We ended up going to more places because we had extra time (by not waiting in lines) and because it was essentially free with our passes so we figure we saw €63.50 worth of museum entrance fees on our €35 passes.

The woman who sold us the passes also explained how the metro / train system worked (in near perfect English). We were very impressed that she answered questions that we hadn’t even thought of yet. She wasn’t the stereotypical French, can’t stand Americans, person. So armed with our tickets, we headed into the city to drop our bags at the hotel. Not many signs in the train stations are in English, but for the most part, if you can match what it says on the signs to what it says on your metro map (which, incidentally, our was in Italian, because the Tourist Information didn’t have any English, so they gave us one that they had the most of – I guess not many Italians come to Paris??) you can figure out where you’re going for the most part. Only once all weekend did we go the wrong direction & even then we figured it out after one stop...okay, Adam figured it out, I was trying to figure out if the two people on the other side of the train could physically be any closer to each other. Wow, those French don’t seem bothered by PDA – but that’s a whole other story.

We made it to the hotel Thursday and checked in. I’d found the hotel online. The reviews were decent and the pictures online looked nice. It was called the Gold Hotel – sounds fancy – it wasn’t. It was, however, across the street (literally) from the Moulin Rouge and a great price. We went up to our room. I really wish I’d taken a picture of the elevator. If Adam or I had been any wider, we couldn’t have both fit in at the same time. It was the same depth as a person and only two people wide. We took the stairs the rest of the time. It was a much less frightening experience. We get to the room, it was small, but had a double bed and ensuite bath. The bathroom was probably 10X6 but did have a bath/shower combo, sink and toilet. The shower had a curtain rod and rings, but no shower curtain. It looked odd. We were heading out to walk around a bit and get the lay of the land, so we didn’t worry about it then. When we came back to the hotel that evening, we stopped at the front desk and tried to ask for a shower curtain. The receptionist didn’t understand English, so he sent someone else from the hotel up with us. Adam showed him the shower & lack of curtain. From the other room, here is my version of the conversation:

Adam: There is no shower curtain.
Man: No curtain?
Adam: Yes, see, there’s the shower rod, but no curtain to stop the water from going out.
Man: Do you want the water to go out?
Adam: No. We want a curtain.
Man: You want a shower curtain?
Adam: Yes. It’ll keep everything from getting wet.
Man: Do you need a shower curtain?
Adam: (Pause) Yes.
Man: Okay, I’ll tell the manager.

He left our room. Adam & I just stood there in a mix of confusion and bewilderment. About 10 minutes later the man came back and said that he’d talked to his manager and “it’s against the law in French to provide a shower curtain.” At this point we just had to laugh. I don’t believe that it is against the law to provide a shower curtain and I’m amused that the man couldn’t translate the name of his country back to English. So we showered for three days without a curtain and pretty much drenched the entire bathroom. After day one, we learned to keep the towel outside of the room if you wanted it to be dry at the end of the shower.



Friday morning, we got up and headed out of the hotel by 9am, ate a chocolate croissant for breakfast and were in the Musée d’Orsay by 9:45 (it opened at 9:30). The outside isn’t much to look at, but it is one of the most beautiful buildings on the inside. We couldn’t take any pictures inside the museum at all, so you’ll just have take my word for it. The Orsay has mostly Impressionist art. Adam, influenced by a Doctor Who episode, wanted to see all the van Gogh paintings. They were beautiful. Not being an art historian, I can’t tell you much more than that, but I know I liked the brightness of the colors over many earlier darker (often more religious) works and I liked that I understood what the picture was about much more than the Picasso cubist work.


We walked from the Orsay across the Pont de l'Archevêché bridge were couples lock padlocks on the sides of the bridge to symbolise their love for each other. We’d seen the bridge on the Amazing Race, but you don’t truly understand how many locks are on the bridge until you see it firsthand. We walked through the Tuileries Garden, a beautiful park with a huge water feature in the center.



We found the Louvre and its strangely architecturally significant glass pyramid on top. This is perhaps the place where we were the most grateful for the museum passes. By 11:30 when we got to the Louvre, the line was L-O-N-G. The tourist who stopped us as the guard allowed us to walk past everyone to ask what special ticket we had & where she could buy one said they’d been waiting nearly an hour. From the look of the line, she had another 30 minutes to go. We knew going into the Louvre that there was absolutely no way to see everything. I firmly believe after being there for a while that you could go everyday for a month and not see everything. The place is huge. We hit the highlights, Venus de Milo, Winged Victory, Mona Lisa, Marriage at Cana, and Napoleon’s Coronation. The strange thing to me, they let you take photos everywhere. And they let you get really close to the paintings (with the exception of the Mona Lisa). You can nearly touch them all. You get a strange sense of guilt while there that you don’t look at everything. At one point, I found myself thinking, oh another de Vinci painting. What?? But there is just so much art that your mind can’t take it all in.



We finished up at the Louvre around 2:30pm and started to walk towards stop number 3 of the day: Notre Dame. As we were walking, we realized we hadn’t eaten lunch yet, so we started checking out menus along the street as we walked. All the sudden, it started raining – hard. Amazingly, we were next to a cafe that – all the sudden – looked like it had the best menu in the world (including hot chocolate – I’m pretty sure you’ll get a picture of hot chocolate in every city we visit over here).


We had lunch while the storm passed through and by the time we were finished with our meal, it was down to a sprinkle outside. We only had about five or six blocks to go, so we made a dash for it.

I’ve always loved the architecture of Notre Dame. Not only is ‘flying buttresses’ fun to say, but it’s actually a pretty cool structural concept. We walked through the cathedral and marvelled at the rose windows in the transepts then walked around the outside. The back of the church is actually my favourite. It’s where all the gargoyles and saint statues intermix. It cracks me up that the two outwardly different figures blend so seamlessly together in stone.






We then saw a sign for ‘Tours de Notre Dame’. This is one of the items that wasn’t originally on our list, but was included on the museum pass, so we decided to add it on. I thought it was a guided tour of the cathedral, but it turned out to be a self-guided expedition to the top of the cathedral and through the bell tower. I could touch the gargoyles! (but I didn’t – Adam said no) That evening, while at the Eiffel Tower, reading the sign ‘Tour de Eiffel’, we realized that ‘tour’ is French for ‘tower’ and that we’d really signed up for the Towers of Notre Dame. It made what we saw much more understandable. Along with shower curtains, add elevators to the list of things the French don’t believe in. Notre Dame, no elevator – 402 steps (mostly up the spiral staircase) to the top; Arc de Triumphe, no elevator – 284 steps (evenly split spiral & normal steps) to the top. Plus you have to come back down both – they prefer you take the stairs and not repel down. The views were totally worth it, but even six days later as I write this, my calves still feel the pain. Coming down the spiral, I started getting dizzy to the point that we had to stop and let others pass us (which was no easy feat in the narrow stairwell). When we made it to the bottom, I needed to sit for awhile to regain stability. Adam suggested that we go back inside the cathedral and sit in a pew. As we sat, the choir began rehearsals for the evening’s Christmas Tree Lighting Ceremony. It was surreal to listen to quite angelic Christmas hymns while sitting in Notre Dame.



As we exited the cathedral the second time, we saw signs for the Crypt of Notre Dame and we decided to go visit (mostly because it was starting to rain again and we wanted to spend a little more time in the warm indoors before heading outside again; plus it was covered by our museum pass so why not). It turned out not to be a Crypt like you see in most churches, but rather the archaeological foundations of Paris. Apparently the city of Paris was the island that Notre Dame sits on, so below the cathedral, you can see the old city wall and defence systems. There was very little in the displays translated to English, so it was a bit difficult to fully comprehend what everything was that we were looking at, but it was still neat to walk through.

By this point, it was about 5pm and getting a bit dark. We headed over to the Arc de Triomphe. Wowzers, the metro at evening rush hour. Nothing like an underground railcar with 100,000 of my closest, unwashed, French friends all bundled under 4-5 layers of clothing. The Arc de Triomphe is massive, chunky and quite apparently not to be messed with. We climbed to the top. Any muscle not already screaming in pain from the Notre Dame climbing got it’s turn here. But by 6pm in the heart of evening rush, the theoretically organized chaos that is the Arc’s traffic circle was in full swing. For those unfamiliar, there are 12 streets that converge into this massive roundabout, and there are no pavement markings around the circle to try to create any lanes (probably because nobody would follow them anyway...). There were police cars parked about every three streets all around the circle just waiting for an incident. Though many honking horns and several whistles by the policemen, who apparently know better than to sit in their cars, but rather stand back away from the traffic, there were no traffic accidents for the hour or so we stood atop watching in awe.




From atop the Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower looks so light & airy, especially in its evening glow. However, it’s a really, really long way away. We took the metro again – we’re such public transport experts now! We ate dinner near, but not exactly looking at the Eiffel Tower. I loved my meal; Adam was just okay with his. He was a bit bummed – you’re supposed to love the food in Paris, he kept telling me. When we saw the tower up close, Adam for the fourth time that day said, wow that’s really big. It was. Everything he said was big; the Louve, Notre Dame, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Eiffel Tower. We walked around the base of the Eiffel Tower and watched people.




We didn’t go up. It’s a long story, but I’m waiting to go up to the top with my parents. We’re going to do it someday and I’m not going to have a complete meltdown this time. By then it was nearly 9pm and we were beat. We took the metro back to the hotel and were probably asleep by 10. Night owls we are not. The people around the Moulin Rouge on the street in-front of our room, however, were still going strong at 2:30am.

Saturday morning we headed out to Versailles. All the travel guides warn that it’s really crowded. They’re right. So many tour groups with the guides and their various ‘I’m the leader’ flags followed by a gaggle of tourist snapping pictures of everything and their ear sets to listen to the audio guide as they walk in a huddle mass from room to room. It was a bit overwhelming. The palace is (again) huge. And shinny. (We all know how much I love shinny things!) We walked through the Palace and the Hall of Mirrors. I don’t know that it is as impressive today as it was a couple hundred years ago. The mirrors are anything but high definition and you can see that age has worn them down quite a bit, however the sheer magnitude of them is still impressive.




I would love to go again in the summer to see the gardens. I’ve been twice now, once in mid-October and once in late-November. Both times, the gardens have already been ‘winterized’ – the statues have tarps over them, the flowers are finished blooming and the fountains are turned off. All the same, they are beautiful. I can only imagine how nice they are in the summer time. And the pictures would be of something other than me shivering by the hedges.





So far, hasn’t this sounded like a swimmingly easy trip? No mishaps, everything is going our way. A tourist dream really. Well, you know that had to end. There is no way to go on a vacation without some form of a hiccup. We walked all over Versailles. I mean, ALL OVER. The place is huge. We walked back to the train station, used our tickets to go through the turnstile and walked to the platform. The overhead board said there was a train heading back to Paris in about 10 minutes. About 15 minutes and no train later, we noticed a station employee talking to other tourists waiting and giving some form of directions to which they turned and left the station. Adam walked over to the crowd that was growing to figure out what was going on. There apparently was some disruption on the track and there were going to be no trains to or from that station for another two hours at a minimum. There was, however another station in Versailles that was ‘about a 10 minute walk away’ that still had service into Paris. So we headed out. The first problem was we’d already validated our tickets at this station, so we wouldn’t be able to get into the other station plus we had to validate them to get out of the train station without trains so we wouldn’t be able to get out of whatever station we were going to end up at. The train employee assured us that they were calling the other station in Versailles to let them know about 100 people that were heading their way who would need new tickets and that it wouldn’t be a problem. Off we went. Somehow in the parade of people walking from one station to the next, we ended up behind a group of 4 French soldiers, all of whom were carrying machine guns. We figured we’d let them deal with and troublesome station employees once we got to the other station. We arrived at the next station (it was more than a 10 minute walk), and (SURPRISE!) our tickets wouldn’t work. As the mass of people shuffled to the ticket line to figure out what to do, they opened one of the turnstiles and just let everyone walk through. So we did. We figured it was better not to ask too many question – and we were again tired from all the walking. We took a train into a station that we recognized the name of (and was on our Italian map) and attempted to transfer to the metro to get back to our hotel (your train ticket also allows you to access the metro system). As we went to exit the train, our tickets again wouldn’t work. We looked around for a station employee to help us through, but couldn’t locate anyone. Then we noticed other people from our train jumping the turnstile; we assumed that they were in the same situation we were in, so we jumped the turnstile too. I would have felt more like a rebel if we hadn’t actually legitimately paid for the ticket prior to jumping the gate. On the other side was a station employee who, after some suspicious looks, we were able to explain the situation to & she issued us new metro tickets so we could continue our journey. Overall, not too bad, but our pre-planned one hour journey back from Versailles ended up taking nearly 3.

British beef is not the same as American. It tastes a bit funny to us, so we haven’t been eating much meat – sticking mainly to poultry for protein (don’t worry Mom, most meals are quazi balanced). Earlier in the weekend, we’d walked past a French steakhouse near our hotel and it smelled amazing. We had quickly made plans to return for dinner one night. After our harrowing return journey, we decided a steak was just what we needed. I chose the triple-peppercorn steak with a baked potato and cheese sauce. Adam had a sirloin steak with french fries and bar-b-que sauce. I clearly won the dinner game again. Mine was amazing. I’d eat there again. Adam said his was okay (which isn’t necessarily a bad term in his head—ask anyone who has ever eaten with him), but he wishes he chose my meal instead. I slept better that night that I have in a while. I was really tired and I’d had a great meal. Great combination.

Sunday was our flight back. We had one metro trip ticket left and about 2 hours until we needed to head to the airport, so we packed up our suitcases and went back to the Eiffel Tower to walk around in the daylight. It really is a different place during the day. What looks so light and glowy (that may not actually be a word) at night is a steel force in the day. We sat under the tower and watched other people take pictures of the tower and children play. Adam & I joked that it was a glimpse of what we would be doing in 50 years on our front porch.



After nearly missing our flight home from Barcelona, Adam wanted to ensure we had plenty of time to get to the airport this time. So we headed towards the airport 3 hours prior to flight time. I’m going to go ahead and give away then ending now: we made the flight. We got to the airport in decent time. Unfortunately, I didn’t have boarding passes, so we had to check-in at the airport. The line for the counter looked like it might take a year or two to get through so we walked around to the self-service area. Though the line was shorter, I wouldn’t call it short and to make it better only two of the six machines were working. I feel like there should be two lines for this type of service; one for people who can read instructions and press buttons appropriately and one for people who are just going to annoy me by trying the same thing 4 times in a row and hoping for a different result. Lady, if it wouldn’t let you change your seat the first three times – stop trying. Eventually we made it through and got our passes (I didn’t even bother trying to change seats – I checked to make sure they were on the inside of the plane and took it at that). We then walked to the security line. It was again long when we walked up. Adam guessed about 45 minutes to get through it. We had 90 minutes until our flight. The line crawled. Several people behind us had flight times earlier than ours, so they flagged down an agent and asked if there was anything they could do. She said no. I’m pretty sure they missed their flight because we had 10 minutes to put our belts and coats back on and run to the gate before the flight by the time we got through everything. We however, already had our shoes on, because you don’t have to take them off in Europe – interesting. So, we waited in various lines at the airport for nearly 2 hours for a 55 minute flight. We made it home, picked up the girls from the kennel – they didn’t appear to have missed us – and headed home to eat dinner at 5pm...yep, just like we’re 80.