We woke up on the edge of Provence, a region that Dan and I explored with Sandy and Alan several years ago. It’s our first time back. Seems we’ve inching our way toward cooking with olive oil and leaving butter behind.

In the last days of the Roman Empire, Arles was the capital of Roman Gaul and, surprise, surprise, boasts many Gallo-Roman ruins not the least of which is Les Arènes, an amphitheater that seated 20,000. The 1st century Antique Theater is not in use today but stood three stories tall and seated 10,000. Place de la République is now a bustling square but was once a Roman Circus (a large, open-air venue for public events like chariot races, games, and performances). The ruins of an impressive Roman bath are on display as well.

Our guide explained that Hollywood and Russel Crow got things a bit wrong by implying all gladiators were slaves forced to fight. She said it was actually a paying profession for some. The profession for both the enslaved and free carried a certain level of respect and all fights did not end in death. The wild beasts fought here were bears, boars, wolves, and bulls for the most part. Wild animals from this region, in other words, not lions and tigers shipped from Africa.

Amazingly the amphitheater remained relatively intact well after its original use was out of fashion and the Romans had moved on. In the mid- to late-1600s it was used as a fortification crammed with tiny homes and today it is used for bullfights (bull is killed), bull games (bull lives), and plays.

A medieval town eventually grew around these ancient venues. We enjoyed strolling down the narrow roads and peeking in the stylish shops, bakeries, and meat markets. Parts of the city are recognized by UNESCO so have changed minimally. A challenge in modern times but a delight to the tourists.

More recently the region became known for its beautiful scenery, light, and colors which would quite naturally attract artists. Although many have drifted in and out over the centuries the one most famous here is Van Gogh. During his 15-month stay Arles was an inspiration for many of his paintings including Starry Night Over the Rhône, The Night Café, Vase with Fifteen Sunflowers, and The Bedroom. It was here that he famously (and sadly) cut off part of his ear. We stopped at Le Café de Nuit made famous by his painting and L’Espace Van Gogh, the local hospital that treated the troubled painter. Before leaving the hospital grounds Hettie played Vincent by Don Mclean for us. I know the song but have to admit it never dawned on me that it was about van Gogh until she cued it up in this particular spot.

We thoroughly enjoyed our morning in town. It was followed by lunch on board and a quick walk back to town to shop in Monoprix for red rice and salt, both local products. Watch out gift recipients!

Today was supposed to include a daytime visit to one charming riverside town and a nighttime stroll in another. We managed the first but the second was scrapped because of rain. A disappointment but grateful for all the favorable weather and low water up to now, everyone accepted the change without a fuss.

A settlement secluded between the river and terraced vineyards has enjoyed this hillside location in the region of France called the Ardeche since Celtic times (loosely 700 BC to 400 AD). Tournon is home to the oldest high school in France (1536); an ancient castle built right into the rock; and shazam, the Valrhôna chocolate factory just across the river. Sadly there was no opportunity to visit the home of this 100-year old luxury brand.

Tournon was our jumping off point for the Train de L’Ardeche, a steam train dating back to 1891. This nostalgic railway, listed as a French historic monument, took us into the Doux Valley, a conservation area inaccessible by road. We skirted along the Doux River, a tributary of the Rhône, and enjoyed views of valleys and woodlands. One thousand workers, mostly Indochinese, laid the rails and built the supporting walls, eight viaducts, and four tunnels. It was used extensively and enthusiastically for carrying passengers, mail, and goods (mostly timber) until the 1960s.

The Ardeche is an arid region known for, among other things, its wine and aggressive goat cheese. Our guide pointed out how green and lush the landscape is at the moment and said it’s only because of the record amount of rain they have gotten this year. It’s the wettest in 40 years.

After our scenic train ride we returned to the ship for a laid back afternoon highlighted by lunch, a molten chocolate cake demonstration, tea, short naps, and watching the green landscape go by. I finished my book, The Vanishing Museum on the Rue Mistral (thank you Mary Kay), and passed it on to Hettie since it is a French story with a little twist involving porcelain that used to belong to Napoleon. Before we knew it, it was time for dinner. We shared our table with a fun couple from Mountain Home, Arkansas.

Dan and I decided to take a stroll along some of the almost abandoned streets last night before bed, so we had a bit of an idea of what to expect on our walking tour today. Imagine: a spectacular Roman-era amphitheater with a capacity of 14,000 built into the hillside; the Temple of Augustus & Livia, an incredibly well preserved 1st-century structure that was used until the late 1800s; the enormous Gothic Cathedral of St. Maurice, built almost 500 years ago; the Abbey of Saint Pierre; the Church of Saint-André-le-Basand; and an old Roman neighborhood, Garden of Cybele, dotted with Roman remains. Our guide explained that Vienne, colonized by order of Julius Caesar in 47 BC, was a very important city in Roman times, hence the ruins, until it lost its influence to Lyon.

When Hettie was getting dressed this morning one of the nose pads on her glasses popped off. She crossed her fingers and asked our tour guide right off if there were any optical shops in town. At the end of the tour the guide directed us to an optical shop and as a courtesy the optician fixed Hettie’s glasses. You could almost hear our collective sigh of relief knowing how dependent we all are on our glasses. We spent the remaining free time popping in and out of charming shops and bakeries. Lunch was ready by the time we got back to the vessel.

The rest of our day was spent slowly sailing and navigating several locks along the peaceful river while enjoying the view of villages, pretty vistas, vine-clad banks, contented swan families, and green hills. The first half of the afternoon no one was allowed on the top deck because of the low clearance under the bridges. The deck was open the second half of the afternoon, but everyone had to agree to sit when we went under bridges. The sun was with us the whole day much to everyone’s surprise and delight.

The celebrity status of its local chefs is testament to the fact that Lyon is known as the food capital of France. We opted to eat onboard so have no testimonial to support that claim, but the 22 Michelin starred restaurants in the city should suffice. These starred establishments are in total contrast to the 20 restaurants certified as les bouchons where the least expensive, least marketable animal parts are cooked in traditional ways and served to the courageous. Think pig brain dressed in vinaigrette, tripe in all its glorious forms, salad dressing made with pork lard.

Fine silk is another of Lyon’s claims to fame. By the 19th century it was the top French export industry outperforming all other silk industries in Europe thanks to the political support it had enjoyed going as far back as the 15th century. At its height there were 90,000 weavers here. I learned about what remains of the silk business in Lyon at a lecture given by a family-owned workshop that still uses old school silk screens for part of its production. We learned that chiffon, twill, and satin are weaves commonly used with silk. The most fascinating process as far as I am concerned is hand-painting velvet on chiffon. The final product, a gorgeous scarf, almost looked too delicate to use. No surprise, digital designing and printing have opened the door to faster production, greater detail, and the ability to use more colors. Count yourselves among the few to know that Queen Victoria’s wedding dress was made of silk woven here and our White House has walls covered in silk from Lyon!

A unique feature of this nine arrondissements city are its traboules, 400 hidden passageways and tunnels through buildings and courtyards. Used by busy merchants in medieval days, they connected small weaving studios with the Saône River and served as strongholds for silk workers protesting their poor working conditions. As late at WWII they were used for relaying secret messages.

We got oriented with a city tour that included strolling the cobbled streets of Old Town (Vieux Lyon) easily identified by its red roofs. The relatively new (1896) Basilica of Notre Dame, at the top of Fourvière Hill, gave us sweeping views of Vieux Lyon, said roofs, and the narrow peninsula of land at the confluence of the Rhône and the Saône known as Presqu’île, a shopping district. We drove past the Gothic St. Jean Cathedral, the Palace of Justice, a gigantic city-block-long former indigent children’s hospital that is now a four-star hotel, and Roman ruins testifying to the fact that Lyon was the third most influential city in the empire, after Rome and Alexandria, Egypt. The highlight for me was exploring two traboules.

Thanks to the Romans’ fondness for wine there are currently more than 2,000 estates, 9 cooperatives, and 200 merchants in a region that starts just north of Lyon. This region specializes in the annual production and sale of 70,000 bottles of Beaujolais. The highway, an old Roman road, took us to a small vineyard for a tasting and a short tutorial about the 12 geographic zones (appellations) in this region, each producing a Beaujolais with a distinctive flavor profile. The grapes, mostly gamay, are hand harvested by migrant workers from all over Europe. Sheep are used as lawn mowers here too.

Dan took a tour of the medieval stone village of Pérouges, setting of films such as The Three Musketeers, this afternoon while the vessel moseyed on downriver. This fortified town is perched on a hill, per Dan, and seems to have been carved from the earth upon a bedrock of boulders and stones. He explored the town and learned about the farmers and linen weavers of the 13th-century. He loved sampling galette Pérougienne, a sweet pastry. From his pictures I think I might have made a mistake not going along.

While Dan was touring I enjoyed the leisurely ride downstream and a lecture on the resistance movement in Lyon titled The Army of Shadows. Lyon was the headquarters of the French resistance movement during WWII, hence the appropriateness of the topic. Our speaker began by explaining the three types of units that operated formally: networks took their orders from London, movements operated independently within cities, and a maquis operated in the countryside. The resistance was in its infancy three months into the occupation by German forces but not fully functioning for a year and a half. Current estimates indicate that 300,000 French men and women participated formally and countless others participated in small, defiant, risky acts when opportunities unexpectedly presented themselves. It is estimated that 20 percent of the formal participants, about 60,000, were deported. Half of their number died or were murdered in captivity.

Our speaker did a great job of weaving together the power and influence of a number of seemingly random things: art, French collaborators, Werner Knab, individual acts of defiance, Lyon’s size and location, strikes and protests, the Butcher of Lyon (Klaus Barbie), communication, blending in, Philippe Pétain, and the massive sigh of relief and blossoming of hope when the Allies landed on the French beaches of the Mediterranean August 15, 1944 beginning Operation Dragoon.

Our weather has been ideal with a high yesterday of 75! It was a treat to enjoy the sun from the top deck. We are the envy of cruisers who went south to north two weeks ago. Seems the water was so high in Avignon that their vessel got stuck (couldn’t go under the requisite bridges) in town for three days. They sailed for something like one day and were then relocated to a hotel and bused from place to place for the rest of the ‘cruise.’ We are the lucky ones!

Our close to 500 meandering, serpentine miles up and back on the Seine came to an official close this morning. Luggage out at 6:00 followed by a leisurely breakfast followed by a short ride to Gare de Nord at 9:45. Destination: Lyon. All we had to worry about was ourselves since our luggage was being handled by Viking. As they say here, doigt dans le nez.

Thirty folks from the first cruise are joining the four of us for the second cruise.

The high-speed train, TGV, was super! Each reclining seat in our top deck, first class section had a mini-mirror, coat hook, mini-tray, and recharging station. There was a café car and a spacious, clean bathroom. The two hour ride was a tad delayed by two unforeseen situations: a medical emergency and an animal on the track. No worries since all we had on the agenda today was getting to our new vessel, Viking’s Hermod, and unpacking.

I slept through three quarters of the nonstop trip, but Dan and my fellow travelers told me the countryside was gorgeous. Fields, pastures, hedgerows, and a few small villages. The sun came out to cap off the ride. Each day we laugh at our good fortune.

Sidebar about hedgerows: for decades the government discouraged these ancient,
eco-friendly fences preferring instead larger fields and pastures.
The opposite is true now. Hedgerows are encouraged and gaining in popularity
because they help with soil erosion and provide homes for birds, insects, and small animals.

After Paris, Lyon is considered the country’s most significant cultural center. It is situated at the confluence of the Sôane and Rhône Rivers. We’ll be sailing south on the Rhône, one of only three major rivers in all of Europe to empty into the Mediterranean. Looking out at the calm, beautiful river tonight I tried to imagine the coches d’eau (water coaches) that used to take people up and down the river pre-19th century. These vessels were pulled by men, mules, or horses that walked along the river on a towpath. In the 19th century barges were used to transport goods downriver. Fighting the current to get back upriver was apparently quite an ordeal. It took as many as 80 horses to pull a train of seven empty barges back to the starting point. On that interesting note, I’ll sign off for the night.

… French Factoids …

France is roughly four times the size of England.

The population is 68.5 million.

Two-thirds of the country is fertile plains. The other third, mostly in the south, is comprised of
three mountain ranges: the Alps, Pyrenees, and Massif Central.

The prime minister is the head of government.

The township of Le Pecq, located in a loop of the river just west of central Paris, is one of only three cities (with Paris and Rouen) to be built on both sides of the river. We got on the boat here rather than in central Paris because of high water, but we stopped here coming upstream today because it is a great jumping off spot for Versailles and Malmaison.

We spent the morning visiting the elegant, 22-room country house of Napoleon’s first wife and the love of his life, Josephine, real name Rose. She purchased Chateau Malmaison in 1799 and lived here until her death in 1814. Our guide was fabulous and told us about the improbable meeting of Josephine and Napoleon. She was born to plantation owners in the West Indies, married, broke, the mother of two, just missed having her head chopped of in a guillotine, had awful teeth (from chewing sugar cane as a kid), was not known as a beauty, and was six years older than Napoleon. Her charm, intelligence, and devotion to Napoleon must have been overpowering, because he became smitten with and devoted to her. His prospects when they met were not all that bright either. Born in Corsica, educated at the military school in Paris, and broke, he was nonetheless a bit of a rising star.

Our guide walked us room to room and easily kept our attention as she wove together all the threads of Josephine’s story. She bought the rundown country house when Napoleon was off on some maneuver…much to his surprise and disapproval. At great expense she refurbished and decorated the house elaborately and expanded it when neighboring acreage became available. She added a small zoo, art gallery, and green house; threw elaborate parties, dinners, and entertainments; and expanded the formal gardens with local as well as imported flowers and plants. It makes for quite a tale when you throw in her friendship with the Russian czar, a pet orangutan that ate at the table (with utensils and a napkin) with her and her guests, her admiration of all things favored by Marie Antoinette, her keen business sense, black swans, failure to produce an heir, the ownership of what is now the official residence of the president of France on the Champs-Élysées in Paris, and her love of all things Greek, Roman, and Egyptian.

Having been a couple of times (lucky us!) before, we passed on Versailles and spent the afternoon enjoying the lazy trip upriver, taking advantage of a special French tea, and packing for tomorrow’s transfer. As we approached the middle of Paris we were staring right at a miniature Statue of Liberty, a gift from the American community in Paris in appreciation for the much larger version France had gifted us. The statues were intentionally situated so that they are facing one another, a nice touch. The Eiffel Tower was visible in the mist beyond. Could be the best picture of the trip.

Tonight we saw Paris in all its illuminated glory as we drifted along the river after dark. Our open-air vessel, though chilly, misty, and wet, allowed for great views of the city’s famous monuments. Our well timed arrival at the Eiffel Tower had us there moments before its twinkle lights started dancing over the iconic structure. Notre Dame looked regal. We went under the Pont de la Concord which is made of stone from the Bastille and Pont de l’Alma, under which is the tunnel where Princess Diana was killed. We passed the home of Josephine’s son which is now the German embassy and the home of possibly the most famous musketeer (thank you Hollywood), d’Artagnan.

One more great day under our belts.

This small village of Le Petit Andely sits at the bend of the river with its imposing castle ruin, Château Gaillard, dominating the landscape from its perch 300 feet above the water. Remember all that back and forth between England and France I mentioned earlier? Well, this castle, built by England’s Richard the Lionheart in 1196, is a testament to England’s being back in the game 100+ years after the Battle of Hastings. Not for long, but that’s another story.

Viewing the chateau from the water is considered the most dramatic sight anywhere along the Seine between the coast and Paris. The strongest, largest, and most magnificent castle of its age, it guarded the Seine River Valley and was the key structure in a vast system that defended Normandy for as long as Richard lived.

After a leisurely morning heading upriver, a tarte au citron demonstration, and another delicious lunch, we docked and enjoyed a walking tour with a fun, funny guide. We huffed and puffed up to the ruin of this huge fortress where we enjoyed bucolic views and got all the details concerning its significance. Afterward we popped into the large church in the center of town where our guide explained that not only does the village currently not have a priest, no services are held in the church except for special events like funerals and weddings. Being without a priest is now a common situation in villages throughout the country. We all had a giggle when she explained that the owner of the bar next door is the keeper of the church key, so when he opens the bar, he opens the church. When the bar closes so does the church.

Our guide, 65, shared fun, heartwarming stories that her parents and grandparents told her about the liberation of France. Lucky Strike cigarettes, chocolate, General Patton, and handsome GIs were key elements in many of them. Her grandpa had hidden some Calvados from the German forces, so after the liberation he traded shots of apple brandy for chocolate. She said her family got its first TV so that they could watch the landing on the moon. Post moon landing her family began to enjoy American TV shows that we cruisers of a certain age could all remember enjoying as teens. For fun she taught us the French expression doigt dans le nez which translates to finger up your nose and is used when something is easy peasy.

Again we had perfect weather much to the amazement of our guide and the crew. Fingers crossed that continues to hold true and we can get under the requisite bridges as we approach Paris tomorrow night. Update to follow.

… Sidebar …

Although I’ve used my rusty French off and on, it has rarely been necessary although always fun.
There are so many nationalities in the larger cities that English seems to be
the default common language when all else fails.

I had guineafowl for lunch today, a first. Think: tastes like chicken.

This is the 80th anniversary of Operation Overlord. It was here that American, Canadian, and British troops made landfall in their first European incursion during World War II. I was here once before, thanks to a wonderful trip planned by David and Barbara, but this is Dan’s first time. Since my focus during the former visit was on American sites, I decided to take the Commonwealth-focused tour while Dan took the U.S.-focused tour.

My day started with something totally unrelated to WWII. My group’s guide explained that France and England have had one of the world’s greatest historical rivalries including innumerable conquests, wars, and alliances that spanned eight centuries. The tour began with a drive to Bayeux where we saw a magnificent tapestry that chronicles events leading up to one of these decisive events: the Battle of Hastings in 1066. The nearly 1,000 year old tapestry is actually wool thread embroidered on linen cloth and is nearly 77 yards loooooong and more than a foot and a half tall. Its 58 scenes, 626 characters, and 202 horses depict the events leading up to the conquest of England by who would later become known as William the Conqueror. Spoiler alert: France (the Normans) won and William was crowned king of England on Christmas day. An audio guide explained each frame of the tapestry which was hugely helpful.

From there our focus turned to the contributions of the British Commonwealth to the successful invasion on D-Day. We were in Arromanches to see what remains of the ingenious Mulberry harbors, two temporary portable harbors developed by the British to facilitate the rapid offloading of cargo. We visited Juno Beach, one of five landing sites; Bény-sur-Mer Canadian cemetery; the first village to be liberated by the British, Ranville, and the British cemetery there; and two museums, one dedicated to the contributions of Canadians and one dedicated to telling the story of Pegasus Bridge.

Our guide brought a beautiful arrangement of flowers for each of the cemeteries. She read a short poem as a prelude to a volunteer placing the flowers at the base of the central monument. A few moments of silence followed. The cemeteries are immaculately manicured, beautifully laid out, and moving to stroll around. Our guide showed us the German section of one cemetery, pointed out the subtle differences between the shapes of the monuments and what they signify, and explained that it has always been standard practice for those who have died flighting for the Commonwealth to be laid to rest where they fall. (By contrast, American policy dictates that a service member’s loved ones decide where they want the deceased to be buried.)

The museums were interesting each in their own way. Centre Juno Beach tells the history of Canada, its contributions to international conflicts, and its role in WWII. The guides are all Canadians between 18 and 24 in honor of the average age of the young men who served. Accessing the museum was an attention getter. Everyone entered a pretend landing craft where we stood (as the soldiers would have done) for a four minute presentation visible on screens the size of the openings on a real landing craft. The doors opened and we entered the museum. Two things in particular caught my eye. The first was an inuksuk, a monument of seemly randomly stacked stones, erected in memory of the Inuits who served. The second was the ‘Tribute from the Lacemakers’ prepared for this year’s 80th anniversary celebration. Five hundred lacemakers and 37 associations from 19 countries submitted 952 lace crosses, one made from the silk string of a D-Day parachute! A similar thing was done when Richard the Lionheart died which makes me wonder if the 20th century lacemakers were inspired by their fellow crafters in the 12th century. I like to think so.

Pegasus Museum was equally as impressive. Shaped like a glider, this museum has the actual drawbridge that the British so skillfully took without, per plan, destroying it. The museum also has a glider! Seeing the wooden frame and cloth covering of this single-use aircraft got our attention. Being silent and having the capacity to deposit up to 90 men or fewer men and lots of equipment (think: two tanks) in one spot are its claims to fame. Hitting the ground for a landing at 60 miles per hour and being very flammable are two less attractive features. Nonetheless over 300 of them were used on D-Day. A fun thing we learned about were dummy parachutists called Ruperts. These dolls were about two feet tall and were often carrying explosive charges. The idea was to drop a lot of them … as a diversion or just to keep the enemy on its toes.

Dan, Hettie, and Ronnie started their tour at the Caen Memorial Museum for a review of the invasion and the events that led to the liberation of Europe. They were moved by the American Cemetery and Memorial in Colleville-sur-Mer located high on a cliff over Omaha Beach where 9,400 American servicemen were laid to rest. The rows of white crosses and Stars of David face westward, toward home. Their guide oversaw a small tribute to servicemembers past and present and asked those in the group to step forward, Dan and Ronnie included, and be recognized. The group located the grave of President Theodore Roosevelt’s son who led the assault on Utah Beach and died of a heart attack roughly a month after the invasion. One grave was of particular interest to Hettie. She noticed that only one of the thousands of the graves in the cemetery had flowers, fresh roses. She went over to check it out, thought she recognized the name, and texted her sister Peggy for confirmation. Peggy confirmed that he was the husband of a woman Peggy met when she attended a reunion of the unit in which Hettie and Peggy’s dad had served! What are those odds?

A visit to the beaches of Normandy make for a somber day if you allow time to consider the enormity of the sacrifice and loss of life. So many sons, brothers, dads, uncles, and friends did not come home because they drew the straw that dictated they be in that particular place to participate in that particular operation. We feel honored to recognize them with our short visit.

… Sidebars …
Juno Beach is where Winston Churchill, King George VI, and Charles de Gaulle
arrived after the beaches of Normandy were secured.

This port city on the Seine, founded by the Romans and sacked by the Vikings several times, is perhaps best known for France’s patron saint, Joan of Arc. It was here that she made her famous last stand and it was here that the 19-year-old was tried and condemned for heresy and burned at the stake in 1431. We got up to speed on her at this mornings’ fact-packed lecture about the history of the region and what led up to Joan’s visions, popularity, confidence, and unwavering faith.

The old town where this took place is home to 700 charming half-timbered houses, a regal cathedral where the heart (other body parts are elsewhere) of Richard the Lionheart is buried, and the usual bevy of charming shops, cafes, and narrow cobbled streets. Dan and I chose to pass on a deeper exploration of the city center and visit a working Norman farm, Domaine Duclos Fougeray, instead. This rustic farm has acres and acres of apple trees and several 18th-century buildings made of stone, mud, and timber. The owners have been making award-winning (hard) cider and other products for more than two decades. Our hosts welcomed us to their orchards and put on a lively sheep dog demonstration. The sheep used here do not eat tree bark when the grass is lacking needed minerals making them ideal lawn mowers in the orchards. The apples used for cider are never picked, they are harvested off the ground once they are ripe enough to fall off naturally. This guarantees optimal sweetness. Before returning to town we sampled a homemade apple tart; local cheese; Calvados, the region’s apple brandy; and its close cousin, pommeau.

Except for a brief shower one day the weather has been cheerier than predicted. Cool and fresh with the sun poking its head in and out. Today we enjoyed full sun and temps in the low 70s. Merci bien!

Named one of the Most Beautiful Villages of France, the picturesque village of La Roche-Guyon was built around and for centuries depended on the Chateau de La Roche-Guyon, a 12th-century fortress. The village is bound between the meandering Seine River and a striking wall of white chalk. Mull over these fun facts. 1) In the 4th century the village was made up of homes, called troglodyte dwellings, built into the limestone cliffs. 2) The village used to control a river crossing. Cha-ching. 3) The castle was used as Field Marshal Rommel’s headquarters during World War II. 

A sucker for yet another chateau, Dan signed up for a tour which included the fine points of ‘setting a table’ through the ages and a stroll around a potager, a grand fruit and vegetable garden planted in the early 1700s and restored in 2004. His group lucked into an exhibition of the Monuments Men hosted by the castle. Now we want to re-watch the movie.

I sat this one out and instead strolled the tiny, immaculate village before returning to the vessel for a talk on the history behind impressionist painting, a topic I know zero about. This style paid little to no attention to the (written) rules of academic painting. Bottom line, in no special order these things colluded in creating this controversial period: Louis XIV, Japanese art, the French Revolution, failure to be selected for juried exhibitions, photography, paint tubes, train travel, American collectors, bad reviews, and the stubborn determination on the part of painters.

After a leisurely al fresco lunch on board we docked in Vernon, founded by Vikings in the 9th century. Its cobblestone streets and half-timbered houses are reminiscent of the Middle Ages. Dan and I spent little time here though; we just used it as a jumping off point to visit the gardens and estate of Claude Monet, founder of impressionism. Don’t let this choice of ours mislead you, other than what I learned at yesterday’s lecture, we know (almost) zero about art. Curiosity and an open mind were our guides. Our group drove to Giverny, the charming village that Monet called home from 1883 until his death in 1926. We explored his furnished-as-it-was-then home, with its pink façade and green shutters, which contains his precious collection of Japanese engravings and many reproductions of his paintings. We had a leisurely stroll around his two famous gardens: the Japanese garden and the formal floral garden. With the assistance of the guide’s commentary we began to understand how these landscapes inspired many of Monet’s paintings.

We had time to stroll through the village and visit Monet’s grave on the grounds of the small church. We took a moment to light another candle for Aunt Jerry. Just a couple monuments away from Monet’s is a unique monument created with the propeller from a British plane that crashed south of the village in 1944. It pays homage to the seven crew members, all English, who died in the crash and are buried here.

We continue to luck out with good weather, cloudy but warm enough for loads of flowers to be in bloom in Monet’s gardens. No rain! We also continue to talk about eating less, but that is a pipe dream so far.

Happy Anniversary Murphy and Josie!