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Category Archives: Travel

It’s Lambing Season in England

12 Thursday Apr 2012

Posted by pat in England, Food, Grasmere, Lake District, Travel, Uncategorized

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lambing season

My very first trip to England, I managed to drive up to the Lake District.  It was April and gorgeous.  I didn’t understand what all this fuss about rainy England was about.  I had clear skies the entire trip. Maybe that’s why I have always looked on England so favorably. It was good from the start.

I saw fields of yellow as I made my way north after a gorgeous stay in London.  Even picking up my manual rental car in London that I had to shift with the “wrong” hand couldn’t sullen my mood. (Manual shift cars are standard in Europe unless you specify automatic–there were many Americans at the rental desk that Sunday morning arguing the point when they discovered they had not reserved an automatic)

Spring Lamb. Photo by me

The first time I saw Grasmere I was in love.  I got a tiny room at a lodge on the outskirts of town.  It meant a leisurely stroll along the fields to go to dinner in the village.  It was lambing season, and all the new born lambs were skipping and playing in the fields.  They were already marked with a bit of bright paint, I assume to identify their owner.  But as far as they were concerned, the world was theirs.

Ready for spring? Almost time for the lambs to appear. photo by me

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I must admit, I was a bit put off when I went to the restaurant in the village with a lovely view of the fields of lambs.  Of course, I should have guessed it was a mainstay on the menu that night.  Spring lamb.  A little too close for comfort.  I ordered the fish.

 

Cafes are always entertaining

04 Wednesday Apr 2012

Posted by pat in entertainment, Travel, Uncategorized

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Paris cafes

England has its pubs, which I love. The Paris equivalent is the outdoor cafe, with a distinct personality all their own.  There’s at least one on almost every busy corner in the city. Since the start of my visit, they all seem to be full, and the temperatures have been in the 50s to low 60s. But Parisians love sitting outside at the cafe watching the world pass by.

photo by me

This particular one I saw on my first full day in Paris.  It was right outside the Comedie-francais (France’s National Theater) and quite near the Louvre. A group of very talented musicians was entertaining the crowd with classical music while trying to sell their recordings.

Talented musicians. photo by me

They did attract a crowd, and it was quite a gathering of amazing talent on the street. They really were very good and stayed quite cheerful seeing that is was chilly outside.

photo by me

I am sure the cafe didn’t mind one bit.  Often you see street performers near a large open air cafe. Definitely a symbiotic relationship.

Les Deux Magots and Cafe de Flore are two of the most popular cafes on the Left Bank.  After winding through the little narrow streets near the Seine , I came across them both on this gorgeous wide Boulevard St. Germaine where they are located a block apart.

Les Deux Magots, the name comes from the two wooden statues of Chinese commercial agents (magots) that decorate the interior. Photo by me

They have had the reputation for decades of attracting a great literary and intellectual clientele, beginning with Ernest Hemingway in the 1920s and 30s, and existentialist philosophers and writers in the 50s, including Jean Paul Sartre and Simone de Bouvier. You can just imagine the conversations that took place over a few drinks. The Sorbonne is nearby which can’t hurt cafes reputations for great thoughts occurring around their tables.

Cafe Flore is only a block away, but just as busy. Photo by me

One of the most charming cafes I saw was on Ile de la Cite, right around the corner from Notre Dame.  With just a few seats outside, it was none the less attracting a clientele that adored the sunshine under its wall of barely blooming wisteria.

A charming neighborhood cafe on Rue Chanoinesse, one of the oldest neighborhoods on Ile de la Cite. Racine lived here. Photo by me.

My favorite cafe to get coffee in the morning is just a short walk across from my hotel.  It looks empty now, but by lunch time it will be packed if it’s a nice day.

My favorite go to cafe located conveniently just in the Tuileries across the street. photo by me

The weather did turn warmer by noon, after a very chilly morning, so…

By noon the entire park was a mob scene. The temps shot up to 59 degrees! Photo by me.

And then there is this…

The MacDonald contribution to the cafe scene. This is right down the street from the first cafe near the Louvre, where the musicians were playing. photo by me.

Somehow it is just not the same thing at all.

Sad but true, it’s time to head home.  Luckily I have My Beloved Brit waiting for me at the airport tomorrow. That makes it bearable.

A Dream…Versailles

03 Tuesday Apr 2012

Posted by pat in Art, Art Museums & Exhibitions, entertainment, paintings, Travel, Uncategorized

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Degas, Museum d'Orsay, Paris, Versailles

Ever since I saw Sofia Coppola’s 2006 production, Marie Antoinette, I have dreamed of visiting Versailles.  For her movie, Coppola was given unprecedented access to the vast palace and grounds and it looked magnificent.

It was pretty grand in true life, although the billions of visitors made it a tad crowded. Nonetheless…

I wasn't alone wanting to see Versailles this morning. The palace was overrun with tourists speaking many languages. Photo by me

The Versailles Station after a ride through the "country" from Paris on the double decker train. Photo by me

Thank goodness I managed to catch an early train this morning from Paris. The 30 minute ride was very pleasant, and the ticket seller at the station actually was quite helpful. Luckily with internet, I had researched the excursion and sort of knew what I was doing.

I even managed to get through the gates of the Palace fairly easily despite the massive crowds.  Having the museum pass helped a lot I think.  The ticket lines were unbelievable.

And once inside I got to see this…

Inside Versailles. One of many spectacular chandeliers. Photo by me.

and this…

This bedroom might be a tad fussy for me, but you have to admire how they mixed prints. Photo by me.

 

And this…

Hall of mirrors. Photo by me

Enough of the gold and the crowds, I looked for an exit.

The corridors were lovely and mysterious. Where did they all go? Photo by me

I headed outside, and even though very little had even started blooming or budding “Le Jardins” were spectacular.

Versailles' back garden. Photo by me

I walked around the grounds for hours before escaping back to the Starbucks in town and the train home. Another day in Paradise.

Peace and quiet. The further I got from the Palace, the less crowded it became. This was still on the palace grounds. It went on forever. Photo by me.

I got back to the train station in Paris just in time to catch the last hour at the Museum d’Orsay. I managed to fit in their special exhibit, “Degas, et le nu” (Degas and the nude).

The main hall of Museum d'Orsay. Such a uniquely beautiful museum in an old train station. Photo by me

It was a spectacularly rich show including sketches, influences by other artists and final paintings, but no photography allowed so you’ll have to take my word for it. It even had one of Degas’s small sketch books on exhibit behind glass. Amazing.

The sun sets on Paris and the Museum d'Orsay. Photo by me

I walked back across the park for my last evening in Paris.

A final sailboat race on the fountain pond in the Tuileries. These are the first clouds I've seen all week. Rain tonight. Photo by me

I paused to watch a rousing game of boules. Photo by me

And finally crossed over to my hotel during rush hour. Photo by me

Good Night, Paris.

 

 

Palm Sunday in Paris

01 Sunday Apr 2012

Posted by pat in Art, Art Museums & Exhibitions, Gardens, paintings, Travel

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Flower Market, Palm Sunday, Paris

Today is Palm Sunday in Paris, a point hard to miss in this city.  On my way to breakfast I passed the ladies at the door of the church preparing the greenery.  In Paris, it is sprigs of boxwood rather than palms, but the point is made just the same.

The ladies prepare greens outside the church for Palm Sunday. photo by me

At every church in the city, it seemed you could get a sprig of green to carry around.  And at Notre Dame they had big white tents set up to entertain the children. Church members in white sweatshirts would answer any questions you might have about the day, and their church, and their religion.

Notre Dame, photo by me

Around the corner, a flower market bloomed.  I happened on it quite by mistake while making a detour for a scoop of haagen dazs (chocolate praline carmel crunch).

This flower market went on for blocks around the corner from Notre Dame. Photo by me

Perfect for the patio, from peach trees to pussy willows. Photo by me

And as I became intoxicated with the smell of fresh spring blooms, I heard  birds chirping away.  There were cages full of tiny birds, every variety imaginable, to the great delight of children straining to escape from their parents to see what it was all about.

Tiny birds, chirping away, hoping to find a home for Easter. photo by me

There were all shapes and sizes and colors. Fascinating. I don’t know if this was just for this weekend or if this a regular occurrence, but it was really quite magical.

The varieties were endless. Something for every taste, so to speak. photo by me

There were booths with all types of birdseed…

Bird seed by the bulk. photo by me

…so you can feed your nesters and get your own fresh eggs.

You could also buy live quails, chickens and doves at the market if you wanted your own endless supply of fresh eggs. Photo by me.

And that was just part of my day.  The highlight was a visit to Centre Pompidou, the Paris version of New York’s Museum of Modern Art.  A unique building, very modern and industrial, it was a delight, and the collection was interesting and varied.

The courtyard from the roof of Centre Pompidou. Photo by me

The last time I was in Paris, much of this museum was closed for renovation, so today was a treat and I spent hours there. My poor Beloved Brit I am afraid would have been bored to tears, which is why I came on my own.

Outside the galleries are sculpture gardens in a pool high above the city.The views of Paris from up here are spectacular. Photo by me

The collection is varied, but my favorite area is Floor 4 and 5, 1900 to present.

Matisse cutouts. Never disappoint. Photo by me

A few of my old favorites…

Joan Mitchell. I have this image in a book back in the studio, but it pales in comparison to the real thing. Photo by me

And of course Peter Doig…

Peter Doig, the painting in real time. Photo by me

I could go on and on and on–way too many to mention here.

Just a spectacular day.  And then I walked outside and down the street on my way to Notre Dame, and saw this…

A small side street captured my attention. Ssssh, don't tell anyone. Photo by me

You’ve got to love Paris for the art.  Just when you think you’ve adjusted to the visual overload, something else pops up and blows you away.

 

 

Viva la France

31 Saturday Mar 2012

Posted by pat in Art, Travel, Uncategorized

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Paris, travel

Paris, as I suspected, has survived very well with out me for the past four years. But it is so good to be back.

From my room you can see the Tuileries. photo by me

It is springtime here.  The forsythia is just starting.  The Tuileries is lovely. And of course, the art…the art is alive and well. The first thing I managed to do when I arrived at Charles deGaulle airport was to find the Paris Tourist Information desk and buy my 6 day museum pass.

The Tuileries across from my hotel are lovely in the morning before the crowds take over. phot by me

After too little sleep on a fully booked Air France flight (I never think of myself as large until I try to fit in to one of those seats over the course of an 8 hour flight), I managed to catch up on my rest some and headed out this morning for coffee in the Tuileries.

The view to the Musee d'Orsay, where many of the most famous Impressionist works are. Saving that for tomorrow. Photo by me

My new favorite coffee spot. It is so quiet in the morning. Photo by me

 

The thing I truly love about Paris is that there is art everywhere, and I mean everywhere…of course it is in the museums, but it is also in the parks, on the streets and in every store window.  Each is a little gem.

Of course, I hit the mother load this morning.  I went across the park to the Orangerie to see Monet’s waterlilies in natural light.  Spectacular.

Walking with my coffee through the park, I came upon these odd little sculptures Photo by me

It seems the pigeons love the art in Paris almost as much as I do.

Interesting how the pigeons in Paris love the art also.photo by me

Every statue seemed to have a pigeon on its head, and they didn't seem to mind one bit. photo by me

 

As a matter of fact, when I went in to the Louvre, the statues seemed quite upset that they didn't have pigeons on their heads. photo by me.

Hopefully more tomorrow, if the hotel internet connection be willing.

Paris in the Spring

29 Thursday Mar 2012

Posted by pat in Art, Art Museums & Exhibitions, Travel, Uncategorized

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art museums, Paris, travel

I am on my way to Paris for a week, and will actually have five full days of art museums.  I had an air ticket left over from a trip I cancelled last summer that needed to be used or lost by April 5th, so My Beloved Brit generously suggested that I use it for a week of art on my own.  His attention span tends to be limited for too many museums, although he’s always willing to give it a try, and it was just too early and cold to use the ticket for our joint trip to England.

View over Paris at dusk, Benh Lieu Song, creative commons

So I am off, and I’ll try to keep you posted, internet in my Paris hotel be willing.  I’ve already researched buying my week long Museum Pass, and practiced my few phrases of   leftover high school French.

Let the adventure begin!

Laundry Day On The Move

09 Thursday Feb 2012

Posted by pat in Travel, Uncategorized

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launderette, packing for trip, travel

I love traveling and escaping from the everyday, and we are always ready for the next adventure.  But some household chores follow us wherever we go…like trying to get fresh clean clothes when we are on the road.  When you travel for weeks at a time, it is just not smart to pack for an entire trip.  So that means laundrettes (in Europe) or Laundromats (in the US) are the smart solution.

The laundromat. A must on long trips. Bring a book, and lots of change. Photo by me.

When I first travelled to Europe, especially in a country where I didn’t speak the language, it was very difficult to do laundry in an efficient manner.  Often it meant washing things out in the hotel sink, and hoping they would dry by the next morning, a formidable challenge. (Tip, if you roll wet laundry in a towel before hanging it up to dry, it has a much better chance of drying overnight.)

I remember going through Holland with my dear friends and traveling buddies from LA . We arrived in Amsterdam, and realized it was time to do laundry.  We did find a laundrette with machines to do the wash, and sorted out the unfamiliar coins to make them work, but dryers were few and far between in Europe then (Europeans still hang laundry on a line outside, or use sunrooms, or drying closets). So it was imperative that we chose accommodations with a good big radiator in the room…the better to dry wet socks. My hotel room looked like a linen delivery truck had exploded and littered it’s contents over every piece of furniture, curtain rod and heat source in the room.

Warm socks are a challenge but a necessity! photo by Clarita.

When visiting friends and family in England, they are often kind enough to offer us their washing machines and we gamely hang everything outside in the moist English air with feeble hopes of it drying before we move on.  Just when it feels like that fleece top has lost that last bit of damp, however, it more often than not starts raining and you are back to square one.  The clothes do smell wonderful, however, drying in the fresh air, even if the jeans are stiff as a board.  A few good shakes and they’re back to normal, though.

Hanging wash on the line is a true challenge. It's like doing a rain dance.Photo Bucket photo

Now, in the last decade or so, it seems it has gotten easier.  In the states, we often stay in a chain hotel that has a laundry room on the premises.  What a joy!  A movie in the room with take-out Chinese while we do laundry down the hall is heaven on earth on a long trip.

In Europe we have been good at finding a nearby market center town that has a laundrette. The internet has been brilliant for being able to locate these hidden gems. They’re usually not in the main tourist area.  I remember in the Lake District driving a half hour from Grasmere to a  larger market town, and spending an hour chatting with the locals and reading the local newspapers while our wash would spin and dry!

Watching our wash spin is a perfect way to meet the locals in the nearby market towns. "Washerwhirl" by taliesin

My Beloved Brit has learned that when he goes over to Burnham-on-Crouch sailing for a week or so before I join him, that it is most appreciated if he spends a few hours in the laundrette around the corner from his yacht club before I arrive. (There is nothing quite like the smell of damp sailing gear that has been stowed in a duffel bag for a week) That little shop feels like home after many years of doing our laundry there.

It is always such a great feeling to start fresh on a long trip and re-pack our bags with clean laundry.  It is like the holiday has just begun with all new expectations and excitement in setting out again.

Howdy

29 Sunday Jan 2012

Posted by pat in England, Travel, Uncategorized, United Kingdom

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British accent

As much as Americans love hearing a British accent, there were a few special moments as we travelled across the United States when the tables were turned for My Beloved Brit. He got to hear some of those classic American phrases that he had grown up hearing only in the movies or on television.

I had gotten fairly comfortable with his British accent in the first year we were together (although the first 6 months I think I nodded my head a lot, not having a clue what he was saying). We drove to Rehoboth Beach Delaware for a beach weekend.  On the way, we stopped at a McDonald’s on the edge of a small rural town in Maryland.  As he ordered his not nearly healthy enough lunch, the girl behind the counter got a big grin on her face and burst out with the phrase I have since grown very familiar with, “I just love your accent!!!” After a polite thank you, hoping his french fries would come quickly, we got the rest of our order placed, and sat down.

Years later, travelling on one of our many road trips, we passed through Houston Texas, and stopped at the Houston Space Center.  Crossing the parking lot towards the building, a man passed by and politely said “Howdy” as we passed by.

Texas looked as well as sounded different. photo by me

MBB had that same look of glee on his face as the girl behind the MickyD counter.  He turned to me with a great look of enjoyment and discovery on his face.  “They actually do say ‘howdy” here!”

Driving out of Texas, and driving, and driving...photo by me

A year later, traveling cross-country, we had to have a flat tire changed in Palm Springs California. At the garage, a young woman, also waiting for her car, asked MBB where he was from (preceded, of course, by “I just love your accent!”)  When he said “London”, she turned with that familiar look like she had just found gold, turned to him, and said, with a big smile, “groovy”.  He was paid in full for sharing his accent!  He was thrilled.  He was in California and someone actually said “groovy”.

Near Palm Springs California in winter. Groovy. Photo by me

I find it fascinating that these random small regional catch phrases that we are so comfortable with, when shared with someone from a totally different locale bring such recognition and sense of joy of placement. It is some sort of confirmation that what we had heard from far away was true.  There was some sense to the world.

It reminds me of the first time I, a born and bred New Yorker, was in the south (Virginia–hardly the deep south). I was a college freshman, and someone said “y’all” to me.  I thought that was said only in the movies and they were joking. When I realized it was just normal speech for them, I was overjoyed!

 

 

A room with a pub…and a view

09 Monday Jan 2012

Posted by pat in Cornwall, Cornwall, England, Travel, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Cornwall, England, Inns, January specials, travel

This time of year I get notices from some of our favorite haunts in England advertising their winter specials.  It doesn’t tempt My Beloved Brit at all to go over in winter, but I always imagine tea & scones by a cozy fire and walks on quiet lanes dusted with snow. That of course is after several tours of the art galleries of London.

Winter lane St. Tinney Farm, photo by Phil Windley, wikipedia commons

St. Austel Brewery just sent us their newsletter with a gorgeous array of January deals in 15 of their wonderful small Hotels or Inns, most of which are in Cornwall.  We have stayed at their historic Charlestown inn, The Rashleigh Arms, which is within sight of the Tall Ships of Charlestown Harbour.

The Rashleigh Arms in Historic Charlestown, Cornwall. Photo from their website

Looking down the list of specials, I can find many that I would love to try. At the Rashleigh, we found the rooms were cozy, and the large English breakfast in the pub downstairs unbeatable. At the very least, it’s wonderful to sit by my own fire and dream…

From the 14th century The Masons Arms website, another St. Austell Brewery property. Doesn't this look cozy?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Click here for the St. Austell Brewery January deals newsletter, and dream a little dream of your own.

New Forest, new art

06 Friday Jan 2012

Posted by pat in Art, England, paintings, The New Forest, Travel, Uncategorized

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England, painting, The New Forest, travel

Planning new trips always makes me review past trips to make sure we don’t forget old favorite destinations.  One of my most memorable adventures was a very special trip to England with My Beloved Brit.

After weeks of meeting MBB’s friends and family on our first trip across the pond together, I was thrilled but also a bit overwhelmed.  Having experienced the same in my home country, MBB was understanding and decided what we needed was a very special few nights in a quiet part of England. He’d fix it. His brilliant idea was a visit for the two of us to The New Forest, the perfect retreat.

photo from New Forest Official Visitors Site

This is a very special area south of London in south-west Hampshire that is filled with quaint, quintessential English villages, expansive views of heather and woods, and wild ponies and donkeys which often come over to say hello.

New Forest Ponies (wikimedia commons)

We stayed in a unique place, called Master Builder’s, located next to the historic English village called Buckler’s Hard on the Beaulieu River. This tiny row of 18th century Georgian cottages brings you back through time. The Inn itself was almost modern by comparison.

Buckler's Hard (image copyright is owned by Peter Barr, Wikimedia Creative Commons)

After a wonderful night in this enchanting place, we got up early for breakfast (only spoiled by the smell of kippers being enjoyed by a guest at the next table) and went out to explore the forest surrounds and villages.

Nearby is the town of Beaulieu which is famous for its motor car museum ( which will feature a James Bond Car exhibit in 2012 that I am told we will most likely see).  But it also has a charming village center, and we went by the inn for lunch.  On our way out we noticed an unexpected guest.  Reservation for one?

My photo

I fell in love with New Forest. We return whenever we can, and on one of these visits I took a long walkabout and found such diverse scenes. I followed a path along the river and found some areas pruned to perfection…

my photo of the most perfect entry

and some areas where nature had taken over and gone wild.

my photo of apples along the path that follows the River

I loved both, but wanted an image that expressed the wild, untamed nature of the area. It was so unique, but I didn’t quite find it on my walk.

Then, driving across the vast landscape after dinner with My Beloved Brit I saw it.  But there was absolutely no place to park.  He let me off at the side of the road and drove about a quarter mile to a parking area and waited patiently while I explored every angle of a lone tree against a moody sky.  It was dramatic. You could see the wind in it’s branches.

I signaled MBB to turn around and come back to pick me up.  He is always so patient with these art adventures.  I love him for that.

And I loved this little painting.  It was everything I remembered of that day.

The New Forest. private collection

I always like to share my paintings.  If you want to see more visit my website at www.patwhitehead.com.

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