Au revoir Paris, bonjour Claude Monet

It's funny using the internet here.  The ads are in french, so if I'm translating them correctly I've just won 1 million euros, and there are lots of eligible bachelors wanting to meet me!

We can't believe our time in Paris is at an end.  I had a list of 20 other things I hoped we could do in the 6 days we've been here.  All it means is that we need to come back!

The only downside of renting an apartment is that we don't have a desk clerk to help us with the little stuff, like calling a cab.  I checked with the property manager Fernando the night before we departed and got a number to call just before we needed the cab.  There's a phone in the apartment we can use to make the call.  We're all packed and it's time to go.  I try to make the call and the phone doesn't seem to be working.  I try and try and try.  (I'm such an optimist.)  I can't believe the phone wouldn't be working!  No luck.  The minutes are ticking by, and we need to get going.  Linda and I run downstairs and out to the street hoping to see a cab going by, but this isn't the kind of street where you'd just happen to see an empty cab.  I flag down two cabs, but both have passengers. 

Back in our building we see a gentleman coming down the stairs.  He speaks english well enough to tell us that his phone is working fine.  He says the problem must be with our line, and we probably need to talk to the post office about it.  Really?  The post office?

There are two guys working on a deck in the courtyard of our building, and Linda suggests asking them if we can use one of their cellphones.  They're actually on the other side of an ironwork fence, about 4 feet lower than where we have access to the courtyard.  I ask if they speak english.  They speak a little, so I ask if they have a cellphone we can borrow.  Cellphone?  One guy says to the other, telephon mobilé.  Ah, yes.  He hands me his phone through the bars of the fence.  Of course I can't figure out how to dial the number!  I hand him back the phone and show him the number, which he dials for us, and then I request the cab.  Merci!  I love these guys!  Note to ourselves:  Next time figure out how to get a cellphone to use while we're in Europe!

A cab pulls up within a few minutes and we're off to Versailles to pick up our rental car.  We tried to get the car as close as possible to Monet's garden at Giverny, since we figured we'd see the garden on the way out of town.  Versailles isn't really that close, but it was closer than anything else, and the drive wasn't too bad between the two places.

We get to Giverny, which is in the town of  Vernon, and stop for lunch at a restaurant very close to the garden.  The owner and chef are like characters out of a movie.  The owner is in his 60's, disheveled, 4-day stubble, top 4 buttons of his wrinkled shirt open, like Humphrey Bogart toward the end of African Queen.   The chef is working at an open wood-fired grill, and is a short, chubby lady, with pumpkin orange hair under her white chef's hat, and eye shadow like Mimi on the Drew Carey show.  

Mimi photo courtesy of ShareTV.org



I have to say I was a little worried about what the food would be like.  Our grilled sausages were good, but Linda's chicken skewer wasn't quite done.  They gladly put it back on the grill for a few minutes.  All-in-all it was a pretty good lunch, and some nice desserts were being served around us, but we couldn't linger.  The beautiful gardens beckoned.  The day was overcast and sometimes misty, plus it was September, so the crowds weren't as bad as in summer.

I wondered what the flowers would be like at this time of year.  I've visited here in May and in July, and both times the gardens were an explosion of color.  Amazingly, they were almost as beautiful in September.  I'll let the photos tell the story.

Rowboats on the pond

Bridge over the lily pond

Fall crocuses in the lawn

Monet's house

Next time:  Bayeux, Normandy