It's the first blog from the continent (and using a French keyboqrd) and again, I must offer my apologies for the delay in postings. The last time I wrote we were about to get into a plane and step out of it into a new Old World and a new chapter in our lives. As it turns out, passing through that portal was not as simple a task as one might otherwise expect and it is to that specific process – passing from one chapter to another – that I’ll dedicate the next few paragraphs.

You may recall that last Thursday the southeastern US was bracing itself for the arrival of Hurricane Frances. Those of you in hurricane-prone zones can surely appreciate that the manner in which the local media whip the population into a frenzy is quite a sight to witness. So there we were, with 24/7 coverage of the latest coordinates, wind speed, projected landfalls, etc. However, the most riveting coverage was consisted of images of people who had not hesitated in the least (with a little encouragement to be sure) to hit the panic button. You know what I mean, folks rushing to the Home Depot for plywood, ransacking the supermarkets for water, batteries, and canned food, and of course the long desperate lines at the gas stations. By that point it would only have taken a minimal effort on the part of the media to nudge the masses into full throttle burn-and-loot mode.

Enveloped in this atmospheric, but more so psychological phenomenon, we made our way to the airport where (not surprisingly) just about everyone who could was trying to catch the next plane out as if a marauding army of barbarians was within hours of breaching the city’s defenses. One look at the long lines at MIA that day was enough to tell us that we might be in for some drama. And drama was exactly what we got. I’ll spare you guys the details of this experience, but I’ll just say that after arriving at noon for a 2pm flight, we finally left the airport at around 1am the following morning after rerouting, delays, delays, and more delays.

One thing worth noting is that when they rerouted us, they bumped us up to business class on the 777 to London and in so doing gave us a window into an alternate reality. I have no idea how much those tickets cost, but the experience was a strong and blunt reminder of the thinly veiled caste system in our supposedly egalitarian society. To start off, you get access to the Admiral’s Club, a way to ensure the well-heeled are not forced to rub elbows with the masses and their cruder sensibilities while awaiting their flights. A complimentary cocktail awaits you when you enter this world of plush leather chairs and brash, if not abrasive, businessmen. There are most of the comforts of home, complete with showers and servants to while away the hours.

The ass-kissing continues onboard with chilled champagne in your hand just as soon as you settle yourself in your seat; after all, it wouldn’t do to have to wait empty-handed while they board the folks in coach. It would be, at the very least, irresponsible for me to fail to recognize that compared to the vast majority of people we share the planet with, I have led a privileged life. By that I mean I’ve always had access to clean drinking water and shelter from the elements. Food was not always abundant, but certainly present. But I suppose it is precisely because of this awareness and the experience of growing up in a poor country (not to mention spending the last few months there) that I find such ostentatious displays of wealth to be at the very least vulgar, if not outright violent. But I digress, I’ll just limit myself to saying that it really is impressive the things that access to capital can buy you. Perhaps not happiness, its true, but it sure can make your misery quite comfortable.

So anyway, we finally got to Lutèce in time to get ourselves settled in to Fred’s place before sundown and relax a bit before hitting what someone referred to once as that “main drag” in Paris, or the Champs Élysées. In a lot of ways Paris is a city like any other with its problems and issues. However, regardless of you opinion of the place, nobody can deny that it is indeed beautiful in every possible sense of that word. So I would say yes, it’s a city like any other…only more so. I always look forward to coming here and that was particularly the case on this trip with a one-way ticket to “old Europe”.

The next morning we rented a car and headed south for a wedding in the Massif Central. These are the remnants of a very ancient mountain range that the effects of weathering have given a rounded, less jagged appearance than its younger kin to the east: the Alps. Anyway, it was a great way to start our time on the continent. We got to spend some time with some dear old friends and made new ones as we burned away the night with fury and with out mercy until its last gasps at 5 in the morning. Before going back to our hotel, I took a walk outside the countryside chateau where the reception was being held, past the paddocks and fields where the moonlight was now having a hard time getting through the early morning fog and thought to myself what a simple beauty life can have.

Of course, within a few hours I was cursing its cruelty for having to check out of the hotel by 11! Its all good though, and I can say that we still got it . We can still play as hard as ever when the time comes, that much is true…but the recovery is a bitch! Maybe we need to start thinking about playing smarter, not harder. Fortunately, our recovery was aided by the decompression session French weddings have the following day known simply as « the day after ». It’s a much more laid back occasions to chill, have some hangover remedies of your choice, and of course catch up with folks at a much more leisurely pace. After enjoying a spectacular summer afternoon in the French countryside, we made the drive back to Paris, thoroughly spent, with just enough left for the drive.

The next day we did some sightseeing to take advantage of the rare great weather in Paris. We started off with a visit to the Château de Versailles. This was unfortunately cut short because the bulk of the complex is closed on Mondays. We’ll just have to do it on another occasion. We ended up spending most of the afternoon visiting La Défense, Paris’ business district which is curiously outside of the city itself. This is a perfect example of modernist planning and architecture on the grand scale. Most of it was errected in the 50’s and 60’s. However, the crown jewel was not completed until the 80’s. The Grande Arche de La Défense lies on the same axis as The Louvre, Place de la Concorde, the Champs Élysées, and the Arc de Triumph. It forms a hollowed out cube about 110m on each side and overlooks a large pedestrian plaza. All vehicular traffic is relegated to the area beneath the pedestrian space. Say what you will about modernist architecture, but on the whole the thing seems to work. In no small part, I feel this is the result of its physical positioning with respect to the city, Its limited purpose as a business district without pretense of residential living or entertainment center, and the importance given to the users of the space (building for Man AND people). That evening we went to the Left Bank in search of food and Jazz . I should point out thqt if Paris by day is beautiful, by night its absolutely magical. Anyway, the food was great, but we postponed the musical part of the evening until we could spend more time and not have to wory about driving the next day . All in all, we had a great day there to serve as our welcome.

I have a hard time deciding which Paris I like best. At night there are the contrasts of light and dark and the blending of color and sound that strike you into a dream. However, I would contend that it is only on such pleasant days of sunshine and blue skies (from late Spring to late Summer) that you can truly appreciate the potential for beauty in urban life. Moreover, I feel that this is one of the few places where people live in such numbers and manage to realize this potential. I often wonder if people who live here appreciate that. I know it can be hard when you have to deal with the hassles of daily life in a big city with a tiny car and smaller apartment. However, if Paris demands much from its inhabitants and denies them a large private space, they are no doubt rewarded with monumental public space and spectacular public life.

After leaving the City of Lights we finally made it to Angers, itself no ugly duckling. It was great to be here for several reasons. Not the least of which was at last being in the same place as all our belongings. We wasted no time getting ourselves settled in to what we have yet to decide whether to call our base camp or our staging area. Regardless, we are now occupying two bedrooms of Chez Bourocher with our stuff as well as the two pallets of boxes we shipped from Dallas sitting in the garage. I have to admit that the sight of all this stuff was a bit stunning after living out of a couple of suitcases and the Jimmy for the last few months. Nonetheless, we’re still mobile enough to pick up and go “on moment’s notice” as the song goes.

There hasn’t been too much excitement around here. We’ve just been getting settled in and trying to get over our jet lag. If I might borrow a phrase coined by someone far more eloquent than I, it didn’t help that we partied like the Far East leg of the 1984 Van Halen world tour last weekend. Anyway, the work of going about building a new life (of which not the least task is finding employment) has now begun in earnest. Life is always an adventure and everyday is brand new no matter your location or the duration of your stay. We are fortunate enough to be brought face to face with this – what I consider one of the more pleasing and rewarding aspects of engaging life with curiosity and determination – with the luxury of experiencing new country(ies), languages, foods, customs, and music. You can count on us soaking it all in and I’ll make an effort to document our experiences and observations as best I can.