BigLar

I Introduction

This is a trip report for our recent "trip of a lifetime". It includes First Class air travel, free hotel stays, car and train trips, and locations from Cornwall in Western England to the French Riviera, and London and Paris in between. It's a combination of bragging (because I'm very glad I could do it), and also encouragement so you can do it, too!

Some background - Up until the year 2000, I had a FF account with USAir and a Diner's Club card. I had about 25K in the USAir account, and the DC account was at zero. Actually, the only reason I got the DC card was because a) they would give me one, and b) they gave me 10,000 free miles.

I started flying for the company in February 2000, and that went on until October 2001. All the flights were on USAir, and the hotel/personal flights were paid on my Diner's Club card. Then, in 2002, I began an assignment in Canada, and I spent about eight months in a Hilton in London, Ont, and no flying. That ended in October 2002, and I then spent a couple of months in Alabama - a couple of Hiltons (Hampton Inns) and a few flights on USAir. I had never taken a flight on British Airways (BA) and had no status with them.

Does any of this sound like I'm some guy who lives in First Class on International Flights and spends his off-hours in exotic hotels? Or does it sound a bit like "Hey! That's about like I live."

At any rate - there I was in the Hilton and looking at my Diner's Club bill in June 2002, when I noticed a blurb about converting DC points to BA miles at twice the usual rate. Now I'm kinda thick, but even I know that two-for-one is a good deal. I had been saving the DC points and not sticking them in any particular airline, just waiting for the right deal. This appeared to be it!

I joined the BA FF club (Executive Club - BAEC) and downloaded their T&C's. Of especial interest was the mileage redemption chart. Let's see ... I want to go US to Europe.

Coach - 40K/60K off-peak/peak
Coach+ - 60K/70K off-peak/peak
Bus - 80K
First - 100K
Concorde - 125K

That last bit astounded me. A round-trip on the Concorde for 125K miles? Apparently it was true. How long have I been ignoring this?

I checked my DC balance - 140,000 points more or less. That's enough for two Coach+ r/t's. I say two because Mrs. BigLar lets me go to, say, Cleveland or St. Louis on my own, but if I go to Europe, she goes too! Your mileage may vary.

So, with at least two coach tix in the bank, I was free to arrange my Europe trip with USAir. I figure I had a couple of years to build up the BA account to the point where I could get a couple of Concorde r/t's. In the meantime, I had to get to Europe this year (2003).

Mrs. BigLar's birthday is Sept. 19, and our wedding anniversary is Sept. 20. September seems like a good time to be is Europe. Where to go? Well, Paris is nice. We'd been to London before, but Paris is so much more romantic, don'cha think? I had set up the trip to Paris before, but we were to leave September 13, 2001. If you remember that time, there wasn't a plane flying in the world. So, we had to put that trip off. This year seemed like the year. Besides. I was plat on US and Diamond with Hilton. Next year I would be down to dirt. Gotta do it in 2003.

About this time (November 2002), I discovered FlyerTalk. Up until then, I had considered myself as a somewhat sophisticated flyer. Hey! I knew enough to ask for an exit row! I got upgraded now and then! I was really "hip" to the airline biz. Well, then I started reading some of the threads. I found out what a novice I really was. These guys started giving me ideas.

In December 2002, I got laid off. It was a "friendly" layoff, and I figured I'd be back at work in a couple of months. This gave me plenty of time to obsess about the trip!

Then Pudding Guy made his famous post about driving a Jaguar and flying to Europe. Even though I had gotten the same notice, it took him to rub my nose in it. So, I set up a Household Account and we all went down to the Jaguar dealer and took a test ride. At 10,000 miles each!

About this time, BAEC made their famous announcement that, effective July 1, 2003, the rules would be "enhanced". Shortly thereafter, BA announced that the Concorde would be retired. These items forced me to radically change my schedule. I looked at my BA FF balance. Let's see ... 140K from DC, 40K from the Jag drive, about 5K from unposted hotel stays I cleared up, ... hmmm. That's ~ 185K. More than enough for two biz class tix. 15K more, and I can score two (gasp) First Class tix! Wow!

Hello, Visa? Do you still have that 10,000 mile bonus? You do? Good! Sign me up.

Hello, Diner's Club? Are you running that BA promo again? You are? Good! I need about 6K more miles.

<sound of clock ticking>

Had to get everything done before July 1, when the rules change. By the middle of June, I had no fingernails left. Then - Hooray! Everything posted! Now to get the tix. Let's see, where do I want to go again?

With all this enforced time off, and the BA schedule in my hand, I had waaay too much time to play around with possible scenarios. I'll skip the dead ends and false starts, but what I finally settled on was:

YYZ-LHR -> LGW-NQY out. NCE-LHR-YYZ return.

Never mind exactly why, it just works out best.

Oh yes - FlyerTalk also made me aware of the value of hotel points. All my time at the Hilton in London and the Hampton Inns made me a Hilton Diamond, with 130,000 or so points. Not enough for a GLONP, but by buying a few K points, enough for 4 nights at the Paris Hilton. Not too shabby.

Ooops! Hilton is changing their program, too. Effective June 1. So, I got my reservations in by then.

See - everything had to be done this year. I had to use the BA tix before the price went up, and I had to stay at the Hilton while I was still a Diamond. So that was it - 2003 was the year.

That's the end of the beginning. Note that there's nothing magical or exotic about it. Just taking advantage of what I had and what I could scrounge. No reason why you can't do the same thing.

So ... on to the report. It is divided into sections:

I - Introduction (this entry)
II - The BA Outbound Segment (the leg from Toronto to Cornwall)
III - Cornwall (Newquay to Tintagel) IV - Tintagel to London
V - To Paris! (The Eurostar and the Hilton - 4 days in the City of Light)
VI - On to France! (Rural France and the Alps - Paris to Sisteron)
VII - The Riviera! (The Route Napoleon to the Sea and back to Nice)
VIII - The BA Experience Back - NCE-LHR-YYZ (We go home!)
IX - Lessons Learned and Random Musings

Enjoy

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Nov 28, 2003).]

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Nov 28, 2003).]

BigLar

II - The BA Outbound Segment

DAY 0 - 12 SEPTEMBER 2003 BA Across the Pond

I arrived home from work on Thursday night, September 11 ready to finish last minute packing and other little errands before leaving for Toronto on Friday. The flight left at 8:10 PM, and I wanted plenty of time to check out the lounge before we took off. So, we ran around in the morning, and then left for Toronto (normally a 90-minute drive) at about 4:00 PM. I expected a line at the border crossing, but that day there was nothing. Luck was with us.

We made good time almost to the airport, but then we ran in a horrendous traffic tie-up; I think it was caused by an accident, but we never did find out. We got to the airport, but we were starting to run a little late.

The lines were long, but since we were travelling in First, we went to the elite line and got the bags checked in. I had tried the OLCI procedure but didn't finish it, apparently because my wife's BAEC number wasn't on the itinerary. The TA noticed that and he finished it for me. So, we had seats 4E and 4F. Because it was a night flight. I didn't see any need to be near a window, and with these seats we could be next to each other.

After confirming our seats and giving us the boarding passes, the TA told us we could wait by the gate, or he invited us to relax in the lounge - like we were going somewhere else!

So, just as CT-UK promised, the lounge was right next to the shoe shine stand. We went in, and got a nice welcome. They filled out an invitation to dine, and showed us to the dining area. The lounge is not super big, but it wasn't too crowded and the food looked good. They had a buffet set up and we handed our invitations to the hostess. She took one look at them and said "No, no. You go in here." and she proceeded to usher us into a door marked "First". Inside, there was a smaller, but well-appointed lounge. Two tables by the window, and a booth/table arrangement along the other wall. Nice linen, good silverware, crystal glassware, etc. Very nice. We sat down and were handed the menu:

STARTERS

MAIN COURSES

DESSERT

I went for the Caesar salad and striped bass, and my wife ordered the lamb chops. For dessert, I asked for the chocolate cake. She came back and said they were out, but would I like the fruit tart instead? I would. They were calling our flight by this time, so I had to hurry with the tart. Yummy.

Feeling just a bit stuffed, we hurried to the gate. After fumbling for my passport (Where did I put that stupid thing?), we strolled on board. After entering the doorway, we turned left and kept on going until we were in the First cabin. Settling in, we were given a glass of champagne. "Krug?" says I. "Peiper" says he. "Oh well" says I, and proceeded to enjoy it. Like I could tell the difference.

Here we were .... First Class .... FIRST CLASS! We were in the front cabin of a great big 747! I couldn't get the smile off my face!

We played around with the seat and finally figured it out. The FA's were very professional and helpful. They took our drinks order (they do have Johnny Walker Blue!) and our video preferences. Then they handed out the amenities kits and the sleeper suits. I looked around. There was at least one empty seat, so I didn't worry any more about being a freeloader and cheating some revenue pax out of a seat. (Just kidding)

Well, we got all belted in and eventually the plane got loaded and off we were. IIRC, we left just about on time. I played with the IFE kit and figured out how to get to the moving map, so that was fun to watch. Finally, we were pretty well airborne. I noticed a couple of the pax had their jimjams on already ... when did they do that? When the seat belt light went off, I wandered up towards the front. 1A and 1K were occupied by real pro's ... they had the pj's on and were belted in, bed horizontal, and fast asleep. Seeing that, I hustled myself off to the loo (practicing my idioms - going to blighty after all) and changed into the suit. One size fits all is right ... that would fit everything from my Labrador to an Elephant!

I came out with the suit on and my wife just burst out laughing. "Laugh all you want, babe. We're up here in First Class!" "And loving it!".

Time to get down to some serious eatin' and drinkin' and entertainin'. The menu for the flight was as follows:

FIRST COURSES

MAIN COURSES

And, of course, the Always-Available English or Continental breakfast, etc. Cheese, wine, coffee, on and on. Mmmmmmmmm.

I think I ordered the prawns, sea bass, and coffee. It's a little vague now, but I recall thinking it was quite delicious. The coffee, of course, was a little strong - this was to plague us all across Europe - you just can't get a decent cup of American coffee anywhere across the pond!

About that time, the FA came by with our video selections. We had a choice of 24 videos from the list, and the video portion of the IFE (available to everybody?) had another dozen or so movies. I chose "Catch Me If You Can" (couldn't think of a better time to watch a guy getting free flights ) and my wife ordered "Chicago". We both got our selections, but it was a mystery as to where to load them.

Now look - I'm an engineer and I'm used to working with stuff, but for the life of me I couldn't work out where to stick the video! Finally, the FA came by and showed me. I'd have sworn that was an access panel for the fancy seat, but, well, there it went. Oh well .... movie time. Armed with some more JWBlue, I settled back for a nice relaxing movie. Actually, we both did.

I could get used to this real easy!

Well ... all good things must end. The movies finished up, I was stuffed, it was getting late, and I had the jimjams on. A little work with buttons and the seat became a bed. Hey! This is really neat-o! What a nice place for a little snooze. Just as soon as I get this video cart out. Let's see ... push here ... no ... maybe if I grab it there ... no ... well how about ... no. I give up. Call the FA. She just about takes the bed apart, but she can't get the thing out either. "Well, we'll just leave it for the cleanup crew." OK with me. Nap time.

Both my wife and myself actually slept on the plane. Neither one of us has been able to do that very much up until this flight. Just shows you what a comfortable seat can do for you.

We were awakened about an hour or so out and offered breakfast. I think I went for the Continental breakfast and gallons of coffee. Just enough time left to change back into street clothes, make the bed/seat up, and wait to land. Heathrow loomed ahead of us. I was still smiling, if a bit groggy.

DAY 1 - 13 SEPTEMBER 2003 BA to Cornwall

Once we landed at LHR, it was a short taxi ride to the gate. Since we were catching our next flight out of Gatwick, I didn't want to get trapped inside LHR. Not knowing the drill, I was a little apprehensive. We gathered our carry on stuff and deplaned somewhat quickly. After that, it was just follow the signs. I noticed the "Fast Track" signs, and that's when I realized I had neglected to ask for the stickers. Oh well, we went there anyhow. I had a word with the guard at the gate, and we were in! After a few short minutes we were up the passport control desk, answered a couple of questions, and we had our passports stamped. We were in England!

Now to get the luggage.

Did I mention the luggage? I had everything I thought I would need in one roll-around bag, plus an over-the-shoulder carry on. My wife took the rest of our allowance - three suitcases and three carry ons. I had begged and pleaded but to no avail. In all fairness, we had no idea of the weather - in fact, I was told that the weather on Thursday was cold and rainy, so she wanted to be ready for anything. But three suitcases ......

The good news - trollys at Heathrow are free. I picked one up, and we quickly located our luggage. We had a luggage dolly which we checked and that made it through, too, so we were all set. So, we followed the signs saying "Nothing to Declare" and they led .... right out. This is Her Majesty's Customs? I could be carrying anything! Oh well ... welcome to Britain.

Now, how do we get to Gatwick?

I followed the advice of Globaliser and, as we walked out the front door of T4, there's the Gatwick bus just sitting there. Also, a cab stand. Let's see, the advertised price for the bus is £17 per person. I approached one of the lads at the cab stand. "Gatwick? Oh, that'd be a nice run. It's normally about £100, but I think you could negotiate it down." Well, probably not down below £34, so off to the bus (all of about 10 feet).

"Where do you put the bags?" "You have to get a ticket, mate." OK. Off to the ticket booth. About another 10 feet. "Connecting BA flight, sir?" "Yes". "Ah, then you get a discount. £14 each." "Thank you very much".

With tickets in hand, I left the booth, only to see the bus pulling away. "Couldn't wait, eh?" Thinking we were in for a long boring wait, I jumped when the bus coming in behind me beeped. It was the next Gatwick bus. Well, well, well. Load the bags on and hop on, and the bus pulls away! Apparently they run about every five minutes! Well, this is nice.

Off we go toodling down the M25. The bus makes no stops after leaving T4 - a real express service.

Once we get to Gatwick, don't get off at the first stop. Wait for the second stop. We find another (free) trolly and try to figure out where to board it. A word with a BA person, and we are led to the Fast Drop counter. Get the bags all tagged and checked, and five minutes after arriving at Gatwick, we're free! Now ... let's find the Lounge!

Following the signs brings us to the lounge ... and a sign saying it's closed. Please go up one floor. So we do. And that one's open. Welcome to the Terraces Lounge.

The Terraces Lounge at Gatwick is very nice. We located the smoking lounge straight away, and it's very roomy, well ventilated, and almost empty. Mrs. BigLar lights up, and I go off to load up on coffee, pastry, juice, etc. Arms full, I'm back and we enjoy a very leisurely hour or so just relaxing and chatting. Finally, our flight is posted and it turns out the gate is right below the lounge. So, after a decent interval, we load up and head to the gate.

Only when leaving the lounge do I realize my mistake. The lounges at Gatwick are "stacked" one above the other. At the bottom is the Delta Lounge. Above that is the BA First Lounge (where I should have gone). Above that are the two Terraces Lounges. Oh well, they certainly were nice, but I can't report on the condition of the First Lounge at Gatwick. Perhaps next time ....

Down to the gate and out the door, where our Dash-8 awaits. I've flown a lot of Dashers on USAir, so it was no big deal for me, but Mrs. BigLar looked a little apprehensive. "Not to worry." and we clambered aboard. In a few minutes, the props started turning and away we went.

Now, as I said, I've flown a lot of Dashers on USAir - on BA, the flight had two FA's, and the full drinks/snack service! Waaaaay better than what I was used to! This is turning out to be a bit of all right, wot?!



[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Nov 28, 2003).]

Seat 2A

Indeed! Looking forward to more!

BigLar

Skiped one - sorry. Part III is at the end.

IV - To Tintagel and on to London!

DAY 1 - DAY 6 - 13 SEPTEMBER - 18 SEPTEMBER

We zipped along the A30, expecting to pick up the A39 heading westerly. As we approached the area, I noticed a sign warning of possible queue ahead. Sure enough, we were caught in what appeared to be a massive traffic jam. But since there were signs indicating a low bridge ahead, they must get this every day. Hmmmmm.

So, after I couldn't take it any more, I made a U-turn and slithered back to where I could find the road to A39, and we were off again. Finally, at Camelford, we ran into the "B" roads that would take us to Tintagel. I found Tintagel right enough, but I had no clue where our Cornishman Inn was. It was starting to get dark as I slowly cruised down the main drag. Glancing off to the left, there it was! (I recognized it from the picture). A quick park and I was in getting the key to the room. They have a very large car park in the rear, so that was no problem. Just getting the **** luggage up the stairs - these old buildings never have lifts.

With everything all squared away, it was time to get something to eat. We could have eaten in the Inn, but instead we wound up at King Arthur's Table (?) down the street, because they stayed open longer. I went for the plaice, and my wife had a cheesburger (!!) which was actually quite delicious. So was the fish. The beer went down well, too.

At this point I noticed the scrumpy. "Legless but Smiling". What the ... Anyhow, we neglected to try it. I may regret that omission in later life ... or not.

But ... it's getting late. Back to the room for a refreshing shower to clean off the dirt of the day, and to bed. Big day tomorrow.

Up in the mornin' and down for the traditional English breakfast. Yum yum. Love that stuff, although my cardiologist isn't pleased. , It was still early, so we went wandering through the town. As Rick Steves said, the town itself is a little touristy (but not too bad), but the real attraction is down the hill at the castle. We walked down the path (there is a Land Rover that will take you down and bring you up, a pound each way). At the bottom, there's a little restaurant, and you can go either up or down: up is to the ruined castle, down is to the caves. We went up.

Very impressive. Extensive ruins, gorgeous scenery, dangerous cliffs - reminded me a lot of the northern California coast around Monterey and Big Sur.

After we had out fill of that, we went down to the caves. These are very large caves, and there's a nice sandy beach in the cove. The tide goes in and out here, too, in dramatic fashion.

As I was clambering over the rocks at the shore, I was headed for another cave where a couple was sitting. As I got nearer, she got up and began getting dressed. Ahem. Then they went into a cave. Hmmm. Oh well .... Sorry to be a wet blanket - at least I didn't take their pictures!

Then I slipped on a rock and went into the drink. I couldn't have been more than three feet from the shore but the water was up to my hips. Rather a steep drop off here, wot? Kinda ruined my day a little, what with me squishing and all. That salt water dries a bit hard, too. Ah, the joys of travel.

We took the Land Rover to the top, and I went to the car and changed. It was starting to get late, so we decided to get going. The only question was, where to?

When I originally planned the trip, I set it up for a couple of days in Cornwall, and the return to London sometime on Wednesday so we could catch the train Thursday. Monday and Tuesday were left open because I had no idea whether we would want to stay in Cornwall or head back. Now we had to decide.

The last time we were over there, we stumbled on a small hotel chain run by Thistle, I believe. These hotels were not all that "charming", but they were very functional and inexpensive, and were located on the motorways. So, we decided that we'd head toward London and, when it was late enough, stop in and check into one of the hotels. Seemed like a plan.

Well, we did that, but the first place we found was booked full, However, they offered to book ahead for us, so that took care of that. Having nailed down a place to spend the night, the pressure was off, so we could just cruise along.

We found the right rest stop, but unfortunately the hotel was on the other side of the motorway. By breaking all the traffic laws, we were able to sneak on a service road and wound up at the hotel. One drawback - you couldn't drive up to the front door - no road. Well, when there's no road, you make your own. It was late, and I just drove up and we unloaded the luggage. Just to be polite, I drove the car back to the parking area.

It turns out these hotels are run by Day's Inn now. No English charm, just American functionality. I was glad of that. All the plumbing worked, TV worked, coffee maker worked, what the heck - it's only £49 a night! Out to the rest stop for a quick bite (not exactly gourmet food, but it wasn't haggis, either) and then off to bed.

In the morning, we got our English breakfast at the food court. Not romantic, but we needed some space to look at the map and figure out where we were. It turns out, where we were (East Swindon) was just up the road from Avebury. Never heard of Avebury?

I'm sure you've heard of Stonehenge. Well, Avebury is a few miles away, but where Stonehenge is compact (and fenced off so you can't get to it), Avebury is spread out. The stones (many more stones than Stonehenge) are spread out over an area several miles in diameter, In fact, the village of Avebury is located at the center of the stone rings!

That's it, then: off we go to Avebury. The last time we were in the area, it was one of those dreary, rainy days reminiscent of the old J. Arthur Rank pictures. This time, we had a bright sunny day without a cloud in the sky. We'd had that weather, in fact, since we arrived. Our luck was still holding.

An hour or so later, we pulled into the car park for Avebury. The car park was pay-and-display, but the site itself is operated by British Heritage so there's no admission. We spent several hours there. There's the stones themselves, and the little village has a tiny gift shop, museum, and a cozy pub. Also in the town is a church that's been there since ... 12th century? Pretty old, anyhow. Also another museum, snack bar, sheep barns, etc. Plus the British Heritage store, which had some very nice made-in-Britain articles. I particularly liked the wollen goods - hats, blankets, etc. Really good quality in my opinion.

We spent a lot of time gazing at the stones and contemplating. They've been there for, what, 4000 years give or take? Who? Why? Who knows? We can only speculate. So we did.

Later on, it was time to study the map again and see how we were going to get to London. Since it was only Tuesday, we had to find a place to spend the night, hopefully not too far from the city so we could drop the car off and spend some time in town. Hmmmm. There was another of these Day's Inns listed as being at City Centre which sure looked like it was in London. We decided to go back to the place where we had spent the night and see if they could book us in. We did and they could.

So - off on M5 and then up M25 and then in on M1 and finally, just as it was getting really dark, we pulled in. Now this Days Inn is actually called a Days Hotel, because it's a multi-storey, purpose built structure, and sure looks like my idea of a hotel! Up to the front desk and get registered. They even have those luggage carts, so moving in was a snap.

We got in the room, and nothing worked - no lights, no a/c, no TV, nothing. A quick call do the front desk elicited the explanation - "You put your card in the slot on the wall (stupid)." Well, she didn't say "stupid", but that's what I felt like. Slide the card in and bingo! Lights! Camera! Action! Air Conditioning! Once we got that straightened out, the romm was really pretty nice. I especially liked the bathroom with it's modern fixtures, although I continued to notice that tubs in Europe are narrower than in the US. Wonder why that is? Also, they were using the soap in a bottle, which is hard to use in the shower - so, I skipped off to the petrol station part of the rest stop and picked up a real bar of soap.

Going downstairs, we were deciding where to go to eat, when we noticed the funky restaurant associated with the hotel. Seemed OK, so we sat down. Turns out, their specialty is Italian food (of a sort). Well, we're Americans, and one thing Americans love is pizza, right? So we ordered a pepperoni pizza and a couple of beers to wash it down with. Now the serving staff was all Asian, except for one waiter who was Russian. I began to wonder how this would all play out, but eventually the chef came out (he seemed Italian!) with our pizza. Well, it was yummy. It just felt relaxing to be eating a good pizza (comfort food?) with a couple of cold beers, and knowing that a hot shower and an air conditioned bedroom was just a short walk away. It felt so "right" that I went up to the desk and asked about breakfast. I think it was £6.50 or so apiece, so I paid it up and got the coupons.

We slept very well that night, and in the morning the breakfast was just super. Buffet style, with trays full of scrambled eggs, English bacon, sausages (pass!), juice, cereal, milk, coffee, etc. A really nice spread for the price. After a nice relaxing, civilized breakfast, we checked out and started in towards London. I had booked us into a B&B in Ebury Street, just a block from Victoria Station. We had stayed in a B&B in the same area a couple of years ago, and this one was run by the same people. Our only problem was getting there.

I had been driving for a few days, so the left side of the road was not a problem. The difficulty was navigating the streets of London. At one point I was parked (in a bus stop!) and I knew I was only a block or two away from the place, but I couldn't find it on the map and, in fact, I even had no clue as to which direction I was facing at the moment. Talk about disoriented! Anyhow, I finally got it sorted out and we located the place. We unloaded the luggage while I returned the car (fortunately, just a block away) and we moved in.

I'm not going to say too much about the B&B because, even though it was OK, it was in London and it was a bit cramped, and the loo was down the hall, and, well, we had gotten used to more upscale stuff. Still, the location was pretty good. But, since I had turned in the car, we had all that **** luggage to stuff in the room, so it did get a bit crowded.

It was getting on to afternoon, and I figured we would walk around that area of London and enjoy the sights until dinner time. However, my wife came down with something, so she went back to the room for a lie down. Left to my own devices, I ambled through Victoria Station (they seem to have cleaned it up a lot since the last time we were there) and up and down the little streets in the neighborhood. Eventually settled at a Starbucks for a decent cup of coffee and a place to sit and watch the local scene. Then I went back to the room, where my wife had just woken up and was feeling a lot better. We wandered around for a bit, and had no trouble locating a nice pub with a friendly staff, good food, and cold beer. The rest of the night was spent in quite pleasant surroundings.

Up early for the English breakfast, and a word with the serving lad resulted in a promise of a cab to take us to Waterloo Station. Again, I had purposely scheduled things so that we would not be pressed for time at any point if I could help it. So, we loaded all the luggage downstairs and, sure enough, the cabbie arrives right on time and we're off to Waterloo. The Eurostar awaits!

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Nov 28, 2003).]

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Nov 28, 2003).]

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Nov 29, 2003).]

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Dec 11, 2003).]

BigLar

V - To Paris!!

DAY 6 - DAY 10 - 18 SEPTEMBER - 22 SEPTEMBER

We arrived at Waterloo station in plenty of time. Good thing, too. I would never have found the right entrance. It's very confusing around there: better to let the cab driver deposit you right at the door. Again, the luggage trollys are free (put a pound coin in to release the chain thingie, get it back when you chain it up again) so we loaded up and went looking for the gates and stuff. Found passport control and security, and a few minutes later we were inside. We found a friendly coffee shop and waited for the departure announcement. The trains leave from the upper part of the station, so we would have to take an escalator up, except for the **** luggage. Fortunately, there's an elevator (lift) which brings you right up to the platform. We took the lift and it turns out our car was right in front of us, so we just loaded the luggage on the racks provided in the train, and took our seats.

I had booked "standard class" tix. First was available, but the concensus was that it wasn't worth the extra expense. Since the trip is less than three hours, and we were never uncomfortable, I have to agree. Saved me a bundle of money, too.

A word here about the tickets: since we were only taking the train one way, I tried to book one way tix. It turns out that the one way price was about £250 (!), whereas a r/t was only £59. Naturally, I booked r/t and we kept the return ticket as a souvenir.

One more thing about the tickets: by mistake, I had booked the trip over on the wrong date, and they were supposed to be non-refundable, non-changeable. I noticed the error as soon as I got a confirmation email from them. I immediately emailed them back, but the response was "tough luck old boy". Hmmm. So I emailed another address, and whoever answered agreed that since it was an obvious mistake, if I booked the right dates they would cancel the other reservation. So I did and they did and everything worked out fine. Whew! Airlines should be so accomodating!

The train ride - what can I say? It's smooth. Makes two stops (I didn't know that); one just before the tunnel, and one just after. Other than that, it's a high-speed non-stop trip. It's faster on the French side, but the UK tracks have been fixed, and now it's supposed to be just as fast over there. Whatever, it was a relatively pleasant ride.

Finally, we pulled into Gare Du Nord. Paris at last! Couldn't wait to get outside and get a glimpse of the Tower. But first, the **** luggage. Again ... free trollys! Load'em up and make for the front door. What a line at the taxi stand! We'll be here for a while, I can see that. "M'sieu?" "Oui?" "Taxi?" "Oui!" "Follow me." Uh oh. Not sure what's happening here, but with a firm hand on my wallet we followed the taxi tout out another door. We waited until he went across the street and, sure enough, seconds later a taxi pulls up. We load the bags in the car. "Vitement! Vitement! C'est illegal!" OK, OK, I get the picture. I hold out some money and he grabs a bill (5 euros?) and off we go. The line at the station is still pretty long, so I figure we just bought a little time.

I gave the driver the address, and he makes his way to the Hilton. I watch him drive and I look at the surrounding neighborhood and traffic. It re-confirms my decision to not rent a car for use in Paris! They're crazy!

Finally, we pull up at the Hilton. The bellmen swarm over us and whisk the bags away. I pay off the driver and, desperately trying to look sophisticated, I stroll into the lobby and try to get us registered.

I had been warned that my paperwork might not have been in order, so I ask the concierge to direct me to the Diamond desk. Moments later, Richard, an english-speaking clerk, is looking at my confirmation letter and my Diamond card. Within ten seconds he has my reservation in his hand. Whew! That's one hurdle down. Now for the "Rich American" act.

"Well, Richard" I say, as I slide my Diamond card in his direction, "I asked for an upgraded room, tower view, lounge access; you know ... everything. What do I get?". He smiled at me and said "Why, everything, m'sieu." My little heart went pitter-pat.

"Actually", he continued, "I cannot give you a suite, but I'm sure you will be more than pleased with this room." Handing me the keys, we stepped over to the elevator and went up to see what kind of a room a Diamond gets at the Paris Hilton.

What this Diamond got was room 707. It's right across from the elevator, but we never heard a sound all the time we were there. As we entered the room, there on the table was a letter from the manager addressed to me, a bottle of wine and two glasses, some candies, and a tin of cookies. Mmmm, nice. I guess the wine was good, too - my knowledge of wine consists of a)Muscatel, and b)everything else. But that's not what's important! I immediately rushed out on the balcony, and there it was - the Tower! No craning, no leaning over - just sit down and there it was. Beautiful.

The room itself was a very good size, especially by European standards. Twin beds, night tables, dressers, TV, telephone, etc. The bathroom was very well-appointed; excellent tub/shower combination, very large sink, toilet, bidet. The amenities included the test-tube soap, shampoo, and conditioner, perfumed soap, a loofah pad, shower cap, miscellaneous things, and a box marked "Women". I didn't open that, 'cause I get a-skeered at stuff like that. And lots of big, fluffy towels, and a pair of fuzzy, terry-cloth robes. Mmmmmmmm.

We used the bidet to keep the beer cold.

The beds were made with duvets, as is the European custom. My wife, however, (and me, too) like to have a top sheet on the bed. When the bellman arrived with the luggage, I said to him "sheets". "Sheets?". "Oui." So, off he went, and quickly returned with ... towels. Ah, a language problem. I picked up the blankets on the bed and again said "sheets". He looked, and seemed to understand, and popped off again. He was back in a couple of minutes with ... sheets! Yaaaay. So; lots of smiles, a couple of Euros, and we were never without either sheets or towels again.

With all that taken care of, it was time to hit the lounge. Late afternoon, just enough time to see what's there before we strolled over to the Tower. Besides, I knew I'd have a trip report to write.

The lounge is on the 10th floor, and we were right across from the elevator, so it was just a matter of moments and we were at the lounge. The young lady in charge asked for our room number. I gave it to her, and after a quick look at the computer, we were welcomed in. It was the last time we were checked for anything. Maybe they remembered us, or maybe they were just lax. At any rate, we spent a lot of time in the lounge at all hours, and at all times it was friendly and inviting. It's divided into two sections; a smoking section on the left, with a couch, chair, and table for eating, and the non-smoking section with two tables, the food/drinks, and the door to the balcony. Outside, of course, is another smoking section. The French are very permissive about smoking.

As we found out later, they serve a continental breakfast from 6:30 to 9:30. The breakfast spread is quite nice: two or three different cereals, low-fat and regular milk, plates of cold, sliced ham (some of the best ham I've ever tasted!), some sliced salmon, juices (orange, tomato, grapefruit (pamplemousse - I love saying that!) ), oceans of coffee, and the usual baguettes and pastries. One can do quite well at breakfast.

From 9:30 until 5:50 PM (?), they just have free drinks (alcoholic and non) and snacks (peanuts, etc.) Then they bring out the evening munchies which vary from night to night but included some nice shrimp thingies and so forth. I have to admit, we didn't get back early enough to sample everything, but what we did get was very nice. They stopped serving the evening food at 9:30, but the drinks kept coming until 10:30. It was a nice way to end the day.

Back to the first day. Having checked out the lounge, and sampling a quick drink, we were off to the Tower, of course. After all, it's just down the street a block or two! Whoopee!

Well, of course we went up the Tower. It's mandatory.

There's no point in detailing everything we did for the next four days - we did what every other tourist does. With no car, we got around on the batobus (boat bus) and the Metro. We got all museumed and landmarked up (Musee d'Orsay, Notre Dame, Jardin des Plantes, Latin Quarter, etc. etc.) Never did make the Louvre. Saw my first pickpocket on the way back from the Arch de Triumph (yes, we climbed up to the top - all 284 steps!). Et cetera and et cetera. One cannot "do" Paris in four days. In four months, one might be getting accustomed with it. In four years, well, maybe.

On Saturday night, I had made my way down to the basement where the business center on the Hilton is. I located a computer room, and proceeded to log on to my email server (nice high-speed connection). The lady there came out and told me they were closing, but they would open at 8:00 AM the next day. I struggled with the European keyboard a bit, enough to get rid of the spam that had built up, and logged off.

On Sunday, Flyertalker willie--wonka stopped by for coffee and some advice on what to do in Paris. It was a very pleasant Sunday morning, indeed.

Laterthat afternoon, I went down to the business center, and logged on an open computer. The manager (?) came by and informed me the it was 0.30 euro/minute, and he wrote down the time on a slip of paper and went away. I hurried up, and logged off, but he was nowhere to be seen. Oh well. Does seem a bit steep, though.

It's worth mentioning that even now, about 8 days into the trip, I had barely seen a cloud in the sky. The sun was relentless, and it got into the 80's during the day. And, of course, the French have never mastered the art of air conditioning. I developed the habit of leaving the room-darkening curtains closed whenever we left the room - give the a/c a chance to keep up. I can understand how so many French people died with the 100 degree heat wave they had.

Had an interesting experience on Saturday (?) night. We were out on the balcony of the lounge. Just sipping a drink and looking at the Tower. There was a young couple there also - they asked me to take their picture. I did, and we started to talk. It was one of those stories you think don't happen in real life. Brian (his name) called Clare (her name) and asked her out to dinner. It was a "new restaurant near Waterloo Station". Well, OK ... what did she know? They got in a cab and drove to the station, where he unloaded the luggage (Luggage? What was her luggage doing there?). So they took the train and wound up in Paris. Took a cab to the Hilton, and Brian proposed to Clare! Naturally, she accepted. (Her mother had been in on it - packing the bags, getting the passport, etc.)

But wait ... there's more!

It seems that Brian had arranged with the Hilton to have the room ready with champagne, a cake with her name on it, and other stuff. When they got there, nothing was ready. Panicking, Brian ran down to the front desk to see what he could salvage. As soon as Hilton heard what was up, they immediately upgraded them to a better room (Tower view), gave them lounge access, and arranged for everything to show up in the new room.

IMO, that was a classy move by Hilton. Their incremental cost was very little and they left two people with a very friendly attitude toward Hilton. This is what the hospitality industry is all about: building long term relationships. When will the (US) airlines figure that out, rather than continually cheapening and commoditizing their product, and squeezing nickels and dimes from the passengers at every opportunity. End of rant.

Anyhow, by Monday my HHonor points had been used up, and I was just another American bum. Time to move on.

I had arranged for a car with Sixt. I believed the rental office was just a few blocks away from the Hilton, so I went looking for it. Clever me, I left the hotel without my map. I immediately got lost and had to ask the locals where to go. Luckily, "Avenue de Saxe" was pretty easy to blurt out in mangled French, and a cabbie finally put me straight. The clerk at Sixt spoke absolutely flawless idiomatic English (as well as what seemed to be perfect French). I was impressed. He seemed a little surprised to hear I was coming from ther Hilton. I later found out there's a Sixt office literally around the corner from the Hilton. Oh well ... live and learn. Next time.....

So - got in the car and made my way back to the Hilton. There are parking places across the street, but I wasn't able to figure out how to get the pay and display ticket. The hell with it. I just parked the car and went to get my wife and the ***** luggage. I was a bit of a hassle, but we made it. It was starting to rain.

I looked at the map, and figured out a way to get to the peripherique road (ring road) and get out of town. Unfortunately, the Franch have a habit of renaming streets every couple of blocks or so, and we got thoroughly lost in short order. I quickly wound up across the Seine, and my bump of direction kept pulling me towards the dreaded Circle of Doom around the Arch. I swore I'd never get sucked into that maelstrom but, sure enough, there I was - kamikaze heaven. I gritted my teeth, stepped on the gas, and cowboy'd my way around. As luck would have it, I eventually spied an opening and dove for it. Whew! Made it!

The rest of the ride was pretty anti-climactic. I made it to the ring road and pretty much followed the signs. In short order, we were out of the city and on our way east. Yee Hah! Rural France, here we come!

BigLar

High praise, indeed, from the master of the trip report!

Stay tuned - watch it appear in real time.

BigLar

VI - On to France!

DAY 10 - DAY 13 - 22 SEPTEMBER - 25 SEPTEMBER

The car we had rented was a Renault Clio diesel - 5-speed hatchback. We were able to fit all the ***** luggage in the back, and we just drove. The rain cleared up quickly. The car handled very well - after a while it was just an extension of your hands and feet, if you know what I mean. At no time was there any indication that we were driving a diesel. I enjoyed it a lot.

We headed out towards wine country and the Alps. Just outside Paris, we picked up the A6 and headed out. We passed the road to Versailles, but it was getting late and I was afraid I'd be driving in the dark, so we took a pass on that (until the next time!).

Another word, this time about the roads in France. There are A-roads, D-roads, N-roads, and E-roads. The motorways are all A-roads, but not all A-roads are motorways. You can really make time on the motorways; the speed limit is 110 Kph (near cities) and 130 in the country - 110 is about 68 mph and 130 is about 80. We routinely drove between 140 (85) and 160 (about 100). No problems - the roads are very well laid out. Every 6 or 8 miles there is a rest stop with toilet, sometimes a picnic area, and the major stops have filling stations, restaurants, etc. Full-service. Probably not traditional Franch, but certainly welcome.

Other than the motorways, the other A-roads are pretty good. I was unable to see any significant difference between the D-roads (departmental roads), E-roads (European roads), and N-roads (National roads). They all looked pretty much alike to me. Reminded me of the "A" and "B" roads in England.

So, we took the A6 and sped along nicely. Still, it took longer than I had expected, and we hit Dijon in the late afternoon. I immediately got lost, of course, after paying the toll and getting off the motorway. We located the tourist office and after a lot of pointing and pidgin French, we finally got somewhat clear directions. Which we tried to follow, but they mark their roads differently; several times we had to backtrack to make sure we were going the right way. Dusk was falling as we located and pulled into the Chateau de Longecourt.

At first glance, it looks a little more rundown that it appears on the website. But hey! it dates to the 16th century (the the current owner's family has owned it all that time). And, as I spoke with the Count, he was unaware that we had a reservation - in fact, the room had not been prepared. He was reluctant, but I insisted that I inspect the room. I'm glad I did. It was absolutely delightful, even with the bed not made.

I told him we'd take it and, since he needed some time to get it ready, and we hadn't arranged to dine at the chateau, we would go off looking for a place to eat. "Umm", said the Count, "We close around here on Sunday and Monday." Hmmm. This could be a problem. But, trusting to luck, off we went anyhow.

In the little town down the road, we located a place called "La P'tite Auberge". At that time I was under the impression that "auberge" was French for "eggplant" (like aubergine). It isn't. But anyhow, the place was open, and we had our little dinner in a real French small town bar/restaurant. We ordered mostly by the "grunt'n'point" method - it works, it's just not very elegant. Wound up with the "formule" meal. It was very good. The entree was crepes aus jambons. They were unable to explain just what part of the cow was the jambon; perhaps it's better I don't know. It was delicious, though. For dessert, I had the richest chololate mousse I've had in my life. I didn't want to leave. Ahhh, but of course we did. Back to the Chateau.

When we got back, the Count revealed that he had indeed found our reservation, and the bedroom was all ready for us. And what a bedroom it was! It had to be about 20 or 30 feet square, with 14-foot ceilings, and finished and decorated as it was when it was built. We opened the floor-to-ceiling windows, and leaned out the balcony overlooking the moat (I'm not making this up!). That was just the bedroom, with a king's ransom in antique furnishings in it. Next to the bedroom was a separate bathroom with tub, sink, and bidet, and a third room down a little hall held the toilet. This was some place!.

It had gotten dark, and the rain had stopped. The sky was clearing and I decided to go for a walk. I crossed the moat and wandered into the forecourt and just sat there looking at the stars. It was very quiet. I decided to stroll down the tree-lined path to the town. If you closed your eyes and kept walking, and convinced yourself you were walking downhill when you were really walking uphill, and repeated to yourself "The Gostok Distims the Doshes", you would actually find yourself in the 16th Century. I was unable to pull it off, but the atmosphere certainly made it seem quite real. I petted one of the castle dogs, listened to the strange things in the moat plopping about (fish?) and we went back in and retired to bed.

The next morning, we awoke quite refreshed and went down to breakfast. I must say, the Count and Contessa spread a very handsome table. I can't imagine how old and valueable the china and silverware are. The Chateau, by the way, is a working proposition: all the jams and jellies were grown on the property and hand preserved. I think some of the other stuff, like mutton and butter, were from the farm, too. A typical French continental breakfast, but everything was very fresh and hot and quite delicious.

After breakfast, Count Phillippe showed us around the house and the property. It was pretty amazing. For instance, I pointed to a picture and asked who it was. He told me it was Phillip V of Spain. It looked like an original oil. All the paintings looked like originals.

We went into the salon on the second floor. Louis XIV would not have felt out of place here. Again, 30 or 40 feet square with high ceilings and some of the most Baroque decorations I'd seen. It was really impressive.

We went through most of the house and heard some of its' history. Then we walked around the grounds. Very nice, indeed.

Finally, it was time to go. The Count asked us to sign the guest book, which we did. He showed us some of the previous guests - one in particular he was most proud of: Bill Gates had spent a couple of nights there in 1992 or so. I guess if it's good enough for Bill G., it's good enough for me!

Down the road we went. We were heading for the Lyon area, having booked another chateau off the web which looked every bit as cool as the one we just left. We got to Lyon and worked our way on the back roads until we located it. So we pulled in.

What a dump! The outside was falling apart, the grounds were in terrible condition, and there seemed to ne no one around. Finally, we raised a guy working in the place. He had some bead thing in his beard, and a few more in his hair, and we was apparently working on remodeling the place. He has quite a job ahead of him. He showed us the room and, though it looked OK, we decided to pass on this place. It was only about 3:00 in the afternoon, and I figured we could make up some more time by just pressing on, So we did. If you really want to know the name of the place, email me.

Our ultimate destination was Nice, so we just kept on truckin' in a general southeasterly direction. As we went on, I kept noticing that the surrounding terrain seemed to get more and more hilly. Then the hills got downright big! Then I figured out why there was no motorway around here - this was the Alps! Actually, it was The Vercors, which is a section of the Alps, famous for some Resistance activity around here during WW II.

We drove on, and the scenery was absolutely breathtaking. However, I knew it would be dark soon, and I had no desire to be driving around these mountain roads after dark, so we began to look for a place to spend the night. As luck would have it, this realization hit me just as we were wending our way through the charming little Alpine town of Monsteir de Clermont. Depending on the scale of your map, you may find it on the N75 route heading south from Grenoble.

Going through the town I noticed signs advertising a two-star hotel (the stars were rated by Logis de France). So, we followed the signs to a very charming looking place, the Hotel Piot. We pulled into the parking area and I went inside to make inquiries. Well, I was really in France, you know. So I stumbled over a few words ("chambre? Oui. Douche? Oui."). We got a nice room up one floor with shower, tub, and toilet en suite, so I relaxed - we would not be fighting narrow roads in the dark tonight. We brought up all the **** luggage. Checking the place out, it seemed comfortable enough - the TV was all in French, of course, so we went downstairs to get something to eat.

I didn't realize that restaurants, especially the smaller ones, are only open for a few hours during the evening. We asked, but were told that dinner would be served in just under an hour, but would we like to sit in the salon and enjoy a coffee? We would.

The salon was past the dining room, and was a good-sized area with fireplace, tables, couches, etc. Big windows gave a nice view of the surrounding hills, and a fireplace could be lit for a cheery evening. Since the weather was still quite warm, this last bit wasn't necessary. They served us coffee (we had learned by this time to ask for creme and eau chaud to make the brew closer to the American stuff we were used to.

My wife and I had been pretty much within arm's length of each other for well over a week, now, and had just been doing some long and unexpectedly hilly driving. We were getting on each other's nerves, and even though I had quit smoking about six months before this, I had begun have a couple in times of tension. We began squabbling. I wound up offering to drive us down to Nice and seeing if I could get BA to reschedule our flights (I think I could have done it). Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed, as they say, and we were interrupted by the waitress asking us if we wanted to eat. Sullenly, we trooped into the dining room. Let this be a lesson to all you frequent fliers - be prepared for a change when you're with your SO instead of jetting off to some exotic spot. Ya gotta work it.

As usual, we were offered the formule meal and, as usual, it really looked good. It was some kind of chicken (poule) dish, and was quite delightful. The whole meal was excellent. In this part of France, they wheel around a cabinet full of wine, and you make your selection. They take it quite seriously over here! No Muscatel, either. Mmmmm. Delicious. We took the full traditional French two hours for dinner, and after relaxing over an aperitif, it was time to go upstairs.

We turned the TV on, and wound up watching Captain Hook with Dustin Hoffman and Robin Williams. All dubbed in French. They do a good job of it, I must say, but it's still pretty unintelligible unless you're fluent. I'm not. Oh well.

In the morning, we had the traditional French breakfast of coffee, juice, croissants, jam, etc. Quite nice. While we were eating, my wife pulled out a brochure she had gotten from the rack. It was about the Caves at Coranche. Ever hear of them? Me neither. But, they looked intriguing, and on the map they were only about 25 miles away ... across the mountains! So - let's go!

We had to backtrack to Grenoble and pick up the road, D531. Up we went. Now that's a road! It took us the best part on an hour to get up there, and it was heart-stopping all the way! Ye gods ... twisty and turny and no guard rails. Whew.

And then, when we got there, we had to take another road, only steeper, up to the caves themselves! Fortunately, this road was pretty straight. But it was steep. And we were pretty high up by the time we got there and parked the car.

The cave is pretty impressive, and we spent a lot time exploring it. After that, we just sat and looked at the mountains. The Vercors is a pretty rugged area of France, and very scenic. Skiing, hiking, hang gliding, etc. are all very popular activities. We would often drive past some hang gliders, parasailors, ultra-lights, even parachuters. I guess they just dive off the mountains and ride the thermals. Looked like great fun. If only I were younger ... a lot younger, actually! And dumber.

Well, it was getting late, and we weren't getting any closer to Nice just sitting there. In fact, we were only about 25 miles from where we were the night before, only a bit further West. A close inspection of the map didn't show any particularly easy or straightforward route, so we just got in and motored off in the general Southwestern direction. Staying on the roads, of course. Where possible.

The route looks easy on the map, but the road twists and turns and, though it's unbelievably scenic, it still takes a while to get anywhere. We decided to make our way towards Valence, and pick up the A49 motorway. We were more interested in speed than scenery by this time. We made it, and we began to make good time on the road, until we got past Valence, where we got off the motorway and had to make some tricky moves to get on the D-roads again. I don't remember which all we took, but we we headed in the general direction of Gap and Digne-les-Bains. Though I had a tentative reservation in a chateau near Gap, at the junction of D994 and N75 (again!) we decided to head toward Digne-les-Bains.

The roads were typical French country roads, and very pretty, but I was getting a little tired of it all by this time. I hadn't intended to spend quite this much time driving, but...hey! France is a big country, n'est ce pas?. It was getting on toward dusk when we pulled into Sisteron. I recognized the name, but I couldn't remember from where. I think it had to do with skiing or something. Anyhow, we hit town and decided to look for someplace to stay. Boom! Right in front of us was an Ibis Hotel. Looked clean, reasonable rates, let's try it. Chambre? But of course, monsiuer. This way. Very nice.

They still hadn't mastered the art of air conditioning, but the room was quite nice and cool anyhow. Up came the **** luggage, and we decided to eat at the hotel restaurant, since it was getting quite dark by this time. I don't remember what we had, but it was OK, just not memorable. We went through a few language lessons figuring out how to say "vinegar", "salt", "mayonaisse', things like that. Eventually, everything worked out OK - one of the younger waiters really was putting himself out for us, so I made sure he got a nice tip.

In the morning (as I recall, an absolutely perfect morning! Sunshine, light breeze, warm. Lovely.) we got up and had breakfast in their little nook area. With the french doors open, it was very comfortable. Unlike most hotel restaurants, this place had a buffet for breakfast. All cold, but included sliced ham off the bone, hard-cooked eggs, and a number of other little delights, along with the usual croissants, juice, coffee, etc. Quite tasty and very filling. The coffee - ah, unlike the rest of France, they served "breakfast coffee" - much more in line with our American tastes, and with a fresh pot sitting on the burner, we were in heaven. The same waiter was again knocking himself out (and really trying hard to get the English right), so when we left I gave him a big hug and stuffed a few Euros in his palm. He seemed to be happy ... I know we were.

Down the road, we picked up the Route Napoleon. We were on our way to the Riviera at last!

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Nov 29, 2003).]

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Dec 11, 2003).]

BigLar

VII - The Riviera!

DAY 13 - DAY 15 - 25 SEPTEMBER - 27 SEPTEMBER

We followed the Route Napoleon toward the Sea. The route is called this because, when Napoleon landed here after escaping from Elba, hs cried "Arrest me or follow me!", and he marched on Paris along this route. Or so they say.

That particular road, N85, winds up heading toward Cannes and Antibes. Both are lovely places, but our return flight was from Nice, and so we took the fork at Barreme on N202, and just followed the signs to Nice. Again, it was a lovely day for driving, and before long we were toodling into Nice. Naturally, I wanted to head right for the Mediterranean, so we did.

You get to the Mediterranean and turn left and keep driving. And keep driving. There are cars in front of you and cars behind you, and not a single parking place in sight. We went along the coast through all the towns, including Monaco and Monte-Carlo, and we wound up in Menton. I had previously sort of made reservations at a place in Menton, so by a little reckless driving I managed to find a parking spot and get the little ticket on it before the gendarmarie could clamp me. We tore the car apart to find the paperwork (got it!) and then to find a phone to call and see. Found a phone booth ... sorry, no coins or credit cards. Hmmmmm. Well, off to a little store where I was told "Non. Tabac." OK - find a tabac (tobacco store?). There's one. Get a phone card, back to the booth. Figure out how to dial (Leave the zero in? add another one? country code?). Finally got through.

"Do you have space?" "Of course. I remember you. Come on up." "Up?" "Directions?" "Oh, just go to the City Hall and turn right. Keep going, you'll find us." Sure we will.

Rather than just rush around, we decided to unwind a bit (we still had an hour or so on the parking ticket) and look around. From what I could see, Menton can be thought of as Nice Lite. It has a casino, lots of neat little shops in the pedestrian-only tourist area, plenty of restaurants and other food places, outdoor cafes, hotels of all sorts, and even a few museums. The weather was still holding as gorgeous, so we walked down a block to the shore. I was taken aback at the absolutely deep blue color (azure) of the Mediterranean Sea. It was spellbinding.

But, it was starting to get late (sundown was especially lovely), so we got back in the car and hoped we could find our way to Villa Gazzano. There was a large map posted near the Casino, but it turns out it wasn't that accurate. I headed toward where I thought I could turn, but we suddenly found the road closed off to car traffic, and we had to make a quick turn to the left. We found ourselves face to face with the City Hall, which was exactly the landmark I was looking for. So, I turned right (the street marking is hopeless for trying to figure out where you are) and we almost immediately began climbing - on a road that was barely a lane-and-a-half wide. Wheeee! I finally got there ... it was quite a way up the hill.

Villa Gazzano is a very charming little villa, located on the hillside overlooking Menton and the Mediterranean. I was told that is was built by Sr. Gazzano. It boasts a capacity of four guests, each with their own room with bath. The rooms open onto a court/balcony with tables and chairs, overlook the rest of the villa, and the pool. I could easily imagine myself spending a nice week or more here. In fact, the other guests were Brits and they were indeed here for a couple of weeks. A little 'fridge in the laundry room kept us all well supplied with beer.

Without boring everyone with details, we spent Thursday and all day Friday exploring. There is a flea market, sidewalk cafes, lots of stuff to do, and we did everything we could think of. Spotted a number of neat hotels, pretty much all of which are on the web and have reasonable prices. Maybe next time ...

All good things etc., etc. We were scheduled out of Nice airport around noon, and we were told the trip was about 45 minutes on the motorway. So, our plan was to eat breakfast and then head off. After breakfast, I asked Mme. Gazzano which credit card she would prefer. To my horror, she replied "Oh, didn't they mention it? We don't take any cards. We're too small. Cash only." Panic city. I had about 60 euros in my pocket. I was about to run down to the ATM in town, which I was pretty sure would cause us to miss the flight, when I asked, "Do you take checks?". She said, "Yes, as long as they're in Euros." Whew! I quickly dug out my checkbook and wrote out a check. She took the check and the money and bid us au revoir.

I had enough change left to make it through the toll booths, and I still had to fill up the tank, but that could be handled with a credit card ... I hoped. At any rate, we were on our way to Nice airport.

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Nov 29, 2003).]

BigLar

VIII - The BA Experience on The Way Back

DAY 15 - 27 SEPTEMBER

The trip from Menton to Nice took about 45 minutes, as advertised. The problem arose in finding out where to return the rental car and getting to the terminal. We followed the signs, but they led us to the return area for Hertz and National. I asked (fortunately, the folks in the booths speak pretty good English), and got the directions to the Sixt return area. We dropped the car off, they checked it out, and we unloaded the **** luggage. Now all we had to do was get to Terminal 1, since the drop-off point was near Terminal 2. We snagged another luggage trolly (again free!) and made our way through the parking area to the shuttle bus pickup point. As we waited for the bus, I glanced at my watch and realized we were starting to get very close to takeoff time. I said a silent prayer of thanks that I was able to pay by check; if I had to have gone down to town and back, we would have never made it.

It was pretty warm, and we were starting to sweat a bit. The bus came by and we squeezed on board - with all the **** luggage, of course. We finally pulled up to the terminal and grabbed another free trolly, and looked around for the ticket counter. We found it, but it was quite a walk, and time was gettin' short. The line was pretty long, but since we were travelling in Club Europe, we could get into the premium line. It was closed, but they opened it up, tagged our luggage, and rushed up upstairs to Security. I was pretty damp by this time, because the scheduled depature time was about NOW!

Well, we got through Security and found the gate, only to find that the flight was delayed a bit. Not a whole lot, but just enough so that we would have no problem. I suppose there is a lounge at Nice, but we really didn't have enough time to locate it. Sorry, folks; maybe next time.

The flight back was on a nice 767 - I think. It was either a 757 or 767. Had two aisles. Do you know which it was? Until I get further data, I think I'll call it a 767. Anyhow - we were up front in seats 4D & F. I wondered about seat 4E, but it was a narrow area with a seat belt, but I don't think you could put anyone in it. I wonder what it's there for?

As we took off about 15-20 minutes late, the clouds had rolled in, so we couldn't get a nice view of Nice. We were in the center anyhow, but a last look at the Riviera would have been nice.

Shortly after we levelled off, the FA's came around with the hot towels and drinks. There was no in flight entertainment, so we pulled out the magazine and read that. Shortly thereafter, they started the meal service. It's been so long, I'd forgotten what it's like to be fed well on a plane. The main course was a choice of either a quiche (which I selected) or chicken (which my wife chose). I asked for wine, and was shown a selection - I chose a Merlot and they gave me the bottle. Food was excellent. Even the coffee was more like American coffee.

Overall, the flight was rather uneventful (my favorite kind) and soon we were on final approach for Heathrow. The only task now was to get from Terminal 1 (where we landed) over to Terminal 4 (where we would depart). What could be easier, right?

Well, I hadn't realized how far it is from T1 to T4! We walked for what seemed like a couple of miles - down halls, on moving walkways, finally down some stairs where we joined up with hundreds of others in snaking through Security - to leave the building! I can't for the life of me figure out why we had to do that.

After clearing Security and being x-rayed (I was starting to worry about the camera and film), we went outside to catch the shuttle bus. At T4, we again went through Security and x-rays, and finally climbed up to the gate level. I checked the A&D board, and the Toronto flight was delayed. Good. Found the lounge and they directed me to the Concorde lounge. It's across from gate 10. Which is a lo-o-o-o-ng way from where we were. So .... we schlepped across the shoppe area (migawd - the place looks like an American shopping mall!) and finally located the Concorde lounge. We flashed our First Class boarding passes, and they whisked us in.

The folks at the front desk informed us that there had been a major auto accident on M25, and the crew couldn't get there for our flight. They would inform us when it became available. Hearing that, we quickly located the smoking lounge and settled in to relax and dry the sweat off. A couple of Johnny Walker Blacks helped. Also some cucumber sandwiches - why the Brits eat those things I'll never know. The carrot cake was good, though.

We weren't there very long (certainly not long enough for a shower, which I would have loved), when the departure time for our flight came up. Apparently either the crew had gotten through or they rounded up another. Finished our drinkies and made our way to gate 11. When all the riff-raff had loaded, we strolled on turning left and began to settle in.

On the return leg, we had chosen seats 2A and 3A. As it was a day flight, we hoped for some nice views out the window. There was a single woman in 2K, and a couple got on in 5E/F. I spoke with the FA, and he informed me that they had been booked pretty full, but apparently the same accident that had delayed the crew was also delaying the other pax. It looked like what was there was all there was going to be. Seeing that, I asked about the rumor that, if one sat in 1A or 1K, you could just see beyond the curvature of the plane and good a look forward. He said he had heard that, too, but had never had a chance to check it out. He then invited me to sit in 1A or 1K for the takeoff. I was like a kid in a candy store! After quaffing the complementary champagne (no Krug again - oh well, Peiper is fine with me) I strapped myself in to 1A and strained for a look as we taxied toward the runway.

Can you see anything? Sadly, no. At least, not much. If you strain real hard, and convince yourself that thare's something there, I guess you can see a little. Not enough to get excited about, though.

Since we were so light in First, the FAs had plenty of time to take good care of us ... and they did. After another drink (JWBlue, of course ) and settling in, they came around and took out orders. I had undid the buddy seat on 2A, and we pulled out the tray. The flight was smooth, and we might as well use up the whole cabin.

The menu was as follows:

FIRST COURSES

MAIN COURSES

and of course:

ALWAYS AVAILABLE

CHEESE, DESSERT & FRUIT

And, of course, beverages, beverages, beverages.

As we were looking it over, the FA warned us that the fillet of beef had been sent back by a couple of pax already (apparently, the Club World menus was the same, at least as far as the main course was concerned). They said it was because the meat was overcooked. Now, we like our meat reasonably well-done, so we said we'd give it a try. It turned out that, as far as we were concerned, it was done to perfection. Yummy, too.

We cleared off the buddy seat and slid out the tray, and proceeded to dine as if we were in a very nice (albeit small) restaurant. That's one of the features my friends have difficulty comprehending.

It was quite a pleasant journey. The weather was clear and beautiful. The view was relatively unclouded and we could chat and watch the ocean below. Then, another drink, and it was movie time.

I selected "Ed Wood", because he's one of my favorite bad directors. I have a clean copy of "Plan Nine From Outer Space" in my library. The video was well done, and I was able to get it into and out of the slot with no trouble this time. Whew!

So, we watched movies, talked, wandered about the cabin (as it was practically empty) and in general enjoyed ourselves. I resisted the temptation to "moon" the coach pax. Maybe next time.

Because of the delay in getting off out of LHR, we were about 45 minutes or late in pulling into YYZ. Coupled with the usual delays, getting the **** luggage (they called ahead that they had neglected to load one of the pieces), we got out about an hour or so later than we had expected. Our daughter was there with the car. We loaded up and headed toward to border. We were home at last

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Nov 28, 2003).]

BigLar

The last part is still being edited - stay tuned.

BigLar

Ooops-missed this one. Sorry

III - Cornwall

DAY 1 - 13 SEPTEMBER

We finally land at Newquay (which I find is pronounced "Newkie"). I had set up a car hire with National, and had called the Newquay office from the States the previous week, because the office there was listed as closing at 1300 and we didn't land until 1430. "Will someone be there to meet us?" "No problem, mate. Just make sure the BA flight number is on the contract." Ha!.

Well...there we were. Luggage in hand. No one there. Slowly the terminal emptied out. No one there. Went down to the other car hire places. They don't know nothin'. One of the airport personnel assures me that they do this all the time - it'll surely be just a few minutes until he shows up.

I'm waiting and starting to worry.

Finally, the same Airport lady offers to call the company for me. I say thank you, and off she goes. She comes back and tells me that they said, in effect, "hard cheese". "Take a cab into town - maybe they're still there." Yeah - and maybe not. I'm getting a little irked, 'cuz the aerodrome is about empty by now, and I have no desire to spend Saturday night in Newquay airport.

So I hustled back to the car hire places - Europcar is still open but about to close. I explain the predicament to the lovely lady behind the counter, and turn on all the Irish charm I can muster. It works! She figures out how to get me into something with four wheels and a motor, and we're off!

Loaded up the car, and off we went, running about an hour or so behind schedule. After getting directions, we headed out onto the road - in the wrong lane! The oncoming drivers beeped at me and I quickly moved into the proper lane. One driver made a rude hand gesture at me. Both hands. I was impressed.

Our first stop was St. Ives (or "Snives", as the locals call it), in the lovely Treloyan Manor. We pulled into St. Ives in the late afternoon, and just drove down the main street and there it was. Quite a bit back from the road, but well signed out front. We checked in and unloaded the car, and decided to have a look around. Our room, by the way, had a double bed and an additional single bed, some storage area, and a toilet/shower room. The windows went from about 18" up the wall right up to the ceiling. It turns out that when the window is open, it's like another door. We went in and out it because it was sometimes more convenient.

Treloyan Manor is situated on a large plot of ground, and the landscaping is quite extensive and well done. My wife, the gardener, just wandered about with her mouth agape and notebook in hand. I scampered up and down a few trails, and at one point I turned a corner and was confronted by a little grove with benches, and a cut out of the trees revealing a very dramatic panoramic view of St. Ives harbor. Very delightful.

Once we tired of exploring, we realized we were hungry. We got in the car and I was all ready to motor on into town and see if we could find someplace open on a Saturday night. Well, we hadn't gone more than 100 yards or so from the front gate when we passed The Old Cornish Inn (or something very much like that). Seemed like a nice, cheery place, so we parked the car and walked in. Five minutes later, we were sitting at the table with nice cold beers in front of us and two steak and ale pies on the way. Ah, England! (Or to be more specific, Cornwall).

Enjoying ourselves tremendously, I must say it was quite relaxing. One of the locals wandered over and struck up a conversation. I invited him to sit and we chatted for quite a while. He asked how I liked the place so far. I told him "My friend, I'm sitting in an English pub, eating home made steak and ale pie and drinking English beer. I'm exactly where I want to be at this moment in time, and I couldn't be happier." We all agreed to drink to that.

He just stared at me for a bit and then came out with, "Bugger, I am drunk." I stared at him for a bit and then asked. "Do you all talk like that?". He didn't answer and I didn't press him. I didn't expect, you know, he'd know what I was talking about.

Much later, we carefully drove the car the 100 yards or so back to the Manor, grabbed a quick shower, and collapsed into bed.

Day 2 - 13 September Cornwall

We were a bit knackered from the flights and the night in the boozer, so we slept in and just missed breakfast, although I was able to score come coffee and toast. Thus, lightly fortified, we set off to explore Cornwall. I wanted to head down towards Land's End, not because it's a particularly interesting place, but it's just something I wanted to do. So - off we go down the road. We take a "B" road until we hit the A30, and then head off to the southwest.

A word about the roads in Cornwall (and pretty much the rest of England, as far as I can tell): there are pretty much three kinds of road: The Motorways ("M" roads). These are full-fledged super highways - high speed, three or more lanes each way, full rest stops, etc. Great for making time. Below the "M" roads come the "A" roads. An "A" road can be anything from a four lane divided highway ("dual carriageway") to a two-lane blacktop. Still, you can zip along fairly well.

Then we have the "B" roads.

The "B" roads are what's left. Almost always two lanes or less - very often no verge - the shrubbery comes right to the edge of the road. Visibility is limited, turns can be sharp and unexpected, and every Brit feels he has to traverse them at the highest possible speed.

It certainly focusses your attention. Not too bad in the daytime - truly frightening at night or in a fog. Ah, England!

There are no "M" roads in Cornwall. There are several "A" roads. Everything else is a "B" road.

So - we made it to the A30 and we were tooling towards Penzance when my wife screamed "There it is!" "There what is?". "There's that island thing we read about." It was true. Flyertalker ajamieson had generously provided us with some information on Cornwall (his home town, as it were), and among the sights mentioned was St. Michael's Mount. This is a castle/monastary located on an island in Mount's Bay that is an island when the tide comes in and accessible on foot when the tide's out. Distances are deceiving - I had no idea from the map that we were that close.

Steering by my nose, we quickly wound up at the beach at Marazion, where there is a nice little gift shop/ restaurant. A bacon and egg baguette and a decent cuppa quickly put us in a mood to wander out on the beach. Actual sand, by golly, and the water felt warmish. Not at all what we had expected in England at this time of the year. Then again, we didn't expect palm trees, either! But this is Cornwall!

Well, we gaped and took pictures for a while, but the tide was in and we didn't feel like sitting around watching the tide do it's thing, so we climbed back in the car and headed towards our original destination, Land's End. We went through Penzance (nice town; hello, goodbye) and continued on towards the end of the world ("Fog in the Channel. Continent Isolated!"). We even passed "The Last Inn in England". Looked a bit dicey - we didn't stop.

I had been warned that the area around Land's End had been taken over by some commercial development, but supposedly one could still drive down to the End. Apparently not true. We had to either pay or vacate. We vacated, muttering powerful oaths.

Deciding to take the "back roads" back, we wound up passing a sign touting the Wireless Museum at Porthcurno. Having nothing better to do, we decided on a little side trip. Down a "B" road, naturally. We found it, but decided not to pay to go in, though we did see a rather interesting video. Outside, I noticed a sign pointing to the cable museum at "the beach". The beach? Let's see the beach!

There appeared to be two paths to the beach - one road led up a very steep hill, and the other went down into the woods. Naturally, I went up the hill. Turns out, the Minack Theatre is up there, and I guess it's worthwhile but nothing was happening at the moment. What was there was some pathways overlooking the beach, and providing some of the most spectacular scenery I'd seen in the UK to date! Very impressive. Really California-ish.

Bye the bye, this might be a good time to mention another quirk I had noticed in Britain (and France, too). That's the almost total absence of guard rails. One can just walk up to scenic cliff and walk right off! An OSHA engineer would have a heart attack over there, and any American injury lawyer would just salivate at the prospects. No kidding - you take a stone pathway somewhere and it turns and you don't and it's 300 feet to the rocks at the bottom. Visit in the daytime and pay 'tention. You have been warned.

When we had our fill of the scenery, I looked at my watch. "Hey, hon. Low tide is in about 20 minutes. Wanna go back to St. Michaels's and see if we can walk out?". "Capital idea!", says she. Well, actually we don't talk like that, but you get the idea.

So back on the back roads, through Penzance (nice town: hello again, goodbye again) and down to the car park in front of the mount. Sure enough, the tide's out and the quay is exposed. Off we go.

It's really quite a nice place. I believe someone is still actually living in the castle, so the castle itself and the very extensive gardens are pretty well maintained. Be sure to bring your hiking shoes: the trails are quite steep.

We lollygagged about for quite a while, and then we figured it was time to head back. Except, someone stole our sidewalk! The tide was in! "No problem" said one of the serving wenches, "The ferry will run you back for a pound." Consequently, we were able to sit and enjoy a spot of coffee and eventually make out way to the quay where the ferryman took us back to land.

It was starting to get late by now, and we had a bit to go, so we bid farewell to St. Michael's Mount and headed north. Our destination - Tintagel, fabled birthplace of King Arthur!

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Nov 28, 2003).]

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Nov 28, 2003).]

[This message has been edited by BigLar (edited Dec 11, 2003).]

ScottC

Trip reports has a new leader! All hail to Sir Biglar!

What an amazing report!

CT-UK

I take my hat of to you Biglar

Thanks for putting in so much effort in the report.

blackjack-21

Wonderful trip report. Thanks for the enjoyable reading.

bj-21.

edi-traveller

Fantastic! Astonishing! Your enthusiasm is infectious.