The French Connection

Adventures from a year living in France

On Our Way

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No more counting . . . We’ve done the impossible . . . loaded all our essentials, including SweetPea, into the CRV and headed out of SLO yesterday, the 10 Aug., to begin the cross-country trek that will bring us to the Queen Mary 2 in Brooklyn Harbor on August 28.  It seems unreal.  There are too many bags, it all weighs too much, and somehow we’ll make it work.

Linda is moving in today; will she master the art of the tractor? of the TV remotes? of the irrigation system?  Well – Linda is a master of the art of building community, and there’s no doubt she will love our home as we do and bring together friends and neighbors to fill the place with joy and liveliness.

France seems so far away in the midst of the realities of travel across the western deserts. Yesterday it was about 115 degrees F. as we approached Las Vegas.  Cars tires were shredding in the heat, and engines overheating. We found a wonderful respite in St. George, UT at The Seven Wives Inn, with a little cottage of our own and chickens in the yard.

Today we made our way through Zion National Park, spectacular mesas, checkerboard & honeycomb rock formations, and moved all day through deep red, magenta, mauve, and ochre sandstone cliffs. Late in the day huge thunderhead clouds moved in from all directions. We beat them in to Grand Junction, CO and collapsed in a road-weary state in a Super 8 motel.

Tomorrow on to Boulder, CO and a birthday celebration for my sister, Robin, together with Gary her husband and my nephew Scott and his wife Sarah. From this point on we’ll be with family, both mine and Ken’s all the way until sailing time.

Don’t worry – Be happy!

In 13 days we leave SLO. So what’s there to worry about?  Just because we’re leaving our home for over a year?  Just because we are driving 3,200+ miles across what is fast-becoming the great American dustbowl, with average temps of over 100 degrees at all our destinations?  Just because global warming might bring us new challenges (storms/icebergs?) on land and on the open seas?

But SweetPea’s not worried, so why should I be?  It’s all part of the adventure. I take great comfort in reading the hilarious blog called The Road Unleashed http://theroadunleashed.com/ which chronicles the multi-year, world travels of an American couple and their two dogs.  It’s from their site and pictures that I got the courage to book our sailing on the Queen Mary 2. And it’s from my friend Linda that I take comfort that our home will be well loved in our absence. And it’s from Monique, our new landlady and friend in Aix-en-Provence, who sends wonderfully humorous and interesting emails about our new home and community in France, that I take continued pleasure and excitement in the commitment we’ve made.

There’s nothing to do now but get on with it! Pack up our stuff, check off the few remaining items on the to-do lists, load up the car and GO!  13 days and counting.

 

 

Karen, Ken and SweetPea

napping
A Place in the Sun

 

Much of our journey to France (the how, not the why) has been determined by SweetPea.  At age 13, she definitely expects more out of life than traveling in the cargo hold of a plane. And so we’ll go in style on the Queen Mary 2, followed by a quick hop on the hydrofoil across the English Channel. We haven’t told SweetPea yet about climbing three flights of stairs to our apartment in Aix. We will all have to learn to be efficient in our comings and goings.

 
 

The Countdown

COUNTING the DAYS

We’re caught in the middle of daydreaming about our beautiful new home called La Bastide, in Aix-en-Provence, and preparing to leave our wonderful home here. My mood soars the moment I think of Aix and all our travels along the way, and lapses into nostalgia for what I’m leaving behind.

Imagine us waving from the sunny window of the 4th floor of this 18th century home that has been in our landlord’s family for six generations. We will be able to see the changes of weather on the slopes of Mont Sainte-Victoire just a few miles away, and think of Cezanne as he walked to his studio along our little street to paint his images of this mountain.

Mont Sainte-Victoire, made familiar by Cezanne

 

Our new home