Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holidays. Show all posts

Adventures in Rome – Day Trippin’ in Tivoli

“Mi scusi! How do you get to Tivoli?”

Renowned for its deep river gorges, and cascading waterfalls, we decided to take a day trip to the nearby city of Tivoli.

Key words: DAY TRIP.

This alleged half-hour jaunt took us all day to get there. Why you may ask?

Well…it’s complicated. Let’s just say that despite our incredible cost savings by staying in an apartment (advantage!), there’s something to be said for having a front desk staff and concierge to answer questions and book excursions (disadvantage!).

We actually started out all right. Sure we didn’t have a guide book or a map of Tivoli, but my hubby, Chris, and I both remembered reading that we could take the train to Tivoli from nearby Termini Station. So we hailed a cab and were promptly deposited at the station entrance. We walked into the bustling building, and the kids and I went to stand in the exceptionally long ticket line. But…

Chris didn’t want to wait.
So he went over to a machine and managed to purchase tickets for four to Tivoli for a mere $9.20 Euros instead of the $48 Euros the cab driver had told us it would probably cost. Hmmm…curious.

It took us another half hour of wandering around the station attempting to communicate in halting/broken Italian/English to figure out the tickets he’d purchased were actually leaving from a different train station. So we hustled back outside and hailed another cab to take us to the new train station, Tiburtina.

Once there, we eventually discovered where we needed to be and boarded the train with several other people. It took off, only to come to a complete stop a few minutes later. We sat there for several seconds. Some people got on. Some people got off. Then the train started again. This happened several times and we realized that although it was called a “train” it was actually more like an above-ground subway (perhaps the rampant graffiti should have tipped us off), stopping at different cities along the way to our destination.

“How will we know when to get off?” Ashleigh asked anxiously, while Chris dozed contentedly beside me.

“Well, I can see different signs out the window every time we stop,” I replied with pretend confidence. “As soon as we see a sign that says ‘Tivoli,’ we’ll know to get off.”

After about half an hour, we came to a stop. I read a sign that said: “Bagna di Tivoli.”

Everybody we had boarded the train with in Rome got up and waited expectantly for the doors to open.

“This must be it!” I said, and we all hopped off the train. It jetted off down the track, while we stood blinking in the bright sunlight, getting accustomed to our surroundings.

The sun shone down hotly on a lone bench. A slight breeze ruffled the grass of the empty fields across from of us. Everybody from the train quickly disbursed, and we found ourselves alone. There was an empty café beside the empty train station. An Italian tumbleweed rolled past. (Okay, not really, but you get the idea.)

As we’d experienced several times since coming to Rome, there just weren’t any people around for question-answering.

I walked into the station, which was actually a small room with a couple of ticket machines and no people, of course. I found a map of the train route and figured out that—surprise, surprise—we were actually NOT in Tivoli. Nope. It appeared that Tivoli was another three stops and several miles up the track. Studying the train schedule, we figured out that another train would pass through the station in approximately 40 minutes.

“Let’s just sit here on this nice bench and wait for the next train,” I suggested. But…

Chris didn’t want to wait.
So we hoofed it up the vacant road and onto the main street. This was obviously a small town. No taxis to be seen anywhere. Unlike the crowded streets of Rome, we stood out like Pizza Margherita in a gelataria. People openly stared as we made our way up the street. You could practically hear them thinking, “You ain’t from here.” (Except in Italian, of course.)

“I guess Bagna di Tivoli doesn’t get a lot of tourist traffic,” I commented, nodding politely to wide-eyed passersby.

Suddenly, we noticed a bus drive past with “Tivoli” lit up across its front banner. Several moments later another one came by. We spotted a newspaper stand up ahead and Chris asked the clerk if she knew where we might get a bus ticket to Tivoli. And guess what? For $1 Euro each, we got tickets!

Eventually, a third bus came up the road, and we clambered on board. The bus took off. However, just like the train, it stopped periodically to let people on and off. Ashleigh shot me a look.

Once again, I wondered how we’d know when we were in Tivoli. As we peered out the windows, I noticed we were climbing higher and higher up a steep, winding road. I recalled that Tivoli was described as a hilltop city. So once we hit the town at the top, I suggested we get off the bus. We disembarked and finally—3-1/2 hours, two taxis, one train and a bus ride later—we found ourselves in the center square of the hilly town of Tivoli.

We intended to tour several villas and a nature park in the city, but it was now 3:00 p.m. and we were starving. So we stopped to eat. When we’d finished, Chris caved and asked the restaurant manager for directions to a couple of the sites we wanted to see. (In case he ever tries to deny he stopped to ask directions, I have evidence!)

We chose to start with Villa Gregoriana Park, and hiked uphill about a mile or so to get there. The park is named for Pope Gregory XVI, who saved Tivoli from river damage by diverting the river through a tunnel, weakening its flow, and creating the Grande Cascade waterfall.

The park was very lush and green.

It had a raw, natural beauty that was in complete contrast to big-city Rome. I didn’t realize how much I was missing fresh air, flowers and just being in nature until be started hiking around the Villa Gregoriana.

As promised, it was full of beautiful gorges, refreshing waterfalls, and ancient castle remains.

Here is a ruin of an ancient Temple of Vesta from the Villa’s trail.

Okay, maybe it was worth it. By the time we left the park, it was after 5:00 p.m. Chris wanted to stay in town and do more exploring. But…

Holly didn’t want to wait.
I figured it might be best if we used our remaining time to figure out where the train station was, and when the last train left Tivoli since it was Good Friday. From the park’s ticket counter, we were directed to hike further up the steep hill where we found the train station. Another one-room deal offering no actual humans, only machines. My hubby once again purchased tickets. This time the cost for all four of us was $24.50 Euros to get back to Rome. Hmmm…curious.

Our trip back home was much quicker and less eventful. A quick stop for gelato…

And we finally made it back to the apartment around 7:30 p.m.

We all flopped down, ready to call it a night. Or so I thought. But Chris was still up for adventure. “Let’s head downtown to see the Pope lead the 9:00 p.m. Good Friday procession to the Colosseum,” he suggested.

While massaging my tired tootsies, I cleared my throat to be certain my whine was in full throttle. “Awwww, hon’. Let’s not. It’ll be super crowded and I’m soooo tired now. Plus it’s getting late. I don’t want to be lost in downtown Rome in the dark.”

(Okay, I’m seriously NOT making this next part up.)

The minute the word “dark” was out of my mouth, BAM! All the power in the apartment building went out. We all sat very still. Blinking in the now total darkness.

Chris walked to the window and looked out. “Yup. It’s just our building. Everybody else still has power.”

Unbelievable. I sighed. (A sign?)

“Well kids, we may as well put our shoes back on and go. It’s better than sitting here bored in the dark.

We headed downtown; the streets were flooded with people. Like salmon swimming upstream, everybody was flowing towards the Colosseum, hoping for a glimpse of the Pope. After talking with a police officer, we discovered that unfortunately, we wouldn’t be able to see any of the procession from the street, but we saw lots of interesting people.


More priest and nun sightings.



We got back late and tumbled into bed. The power was back on. Yeah!

Stay tuned for one more post, Adventures in Rome: The Final Episode.
Gelato image by Samuraijohnny

Chocolate is GOOD for you!


Lately, I’ve been working on some health, fitness and nutrition pieces for a client, and what with it being Valentine’s Day and all, I thought I would share some recent discoveries I’ve stumbled upon. Chocolate-related discoveries. I present to you, seven, count ‘em, SEVEN health benefits you get from eating chocolate. (They’re from legit sources and everything!)
  • Chocolate is heart healthy! Studies show cocoa may reduce risk of heart disease.
  • Some research has linked chocolate consumption to reduced instances of diabetes, stroke and heart attack.
  • It helps lower blood pressure and improves vascular function.
  • Chocolate boosts your mood! Chocolate makes us feel good.(Like we needed research to support this one! Clearly if it reverses the effects of Dementors, it's got to be powerful stuff.)
  • Chocolate makes you smarter. Seriously! A study published in the Journal of Nutrition says so. See, chocolate has flavonoids. And flavonoids have been linked to increased brain functioning.
  • And this one is a real winner. Researchers from the University of California, San Diego, reported in the Archives of InternalMedicine, that people who eat chocolate regularly tend to be thinner than those who never or very rarely consume chocolate. Is this cool or what?!

You’re welcome. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Now go eat some chocolate!

Disclaimer #1: The majority of the good stuff is most prevalent in dark chocolate (65 percent cocoa content and higher), than either milk or white. But hey, it’s chocolate, right?

Disclaimer #2: Chocoholics should still try to control themselves. Doctors remind us that it's important to keep a balanced diet and that all this cool research doesn't necessarily mean people should start downing daily bars of chocolate. Yaddah, yaddah, yaddah.

Disclaimer #3: I’m not a nutrition expert! I merely play one on this blog, particularly when it comes to the subject of chocolate.

Indulge at your own risk.







Image by 1la


5 Advantages of Being a Cougar


Well, as my front lawn clearly BROADCASTS (thanks to my darling hubby!) I’m celebrating my 50th birthday today! Some people feel weird about birthdays, especially milestones, but I love my birthday! The only one I truly recall having anxiety over was when I turned 18. I freaked out because I knew the world now considered me an adult but I felt like I didn’t know anything!


Now I know I don’t know anything, but I realize nobody else does either. Plus, I think I’m gonna sound way cool saying things like, “Yes, well, speaking from half a century of experience here…” and “Scuze me? Listen honey, I’ve been around for half a century, so I’m pretty sure I know a bit more about....” Stuff like that.

In addition to becoming half a century today, you may be surprised to know I’m also a…cougar. That’s right. I’m older than my husband. Now some people might not think that’s something to brag about either. But there are some definite advantages to being older than your husband. These are probably some of the very things Demi Moore thought about when she first married Ashton Kutcher.

Five Advantages of Being a Cougar

1. Your Status: There’s the obvious status boost you attain among your peers as a renowned cougar. A woman able to capture the love of a younger man. Added bonus: Arm candy! He looks fabulous on my arm at a party!

2. His Status: On the flip side, your man gets to brag about he’s ignited the love and passion of an older woman. Oooh, la, la!

3. Pancakes: It’s a well-known fact that women are better at, um, making pancakes when they’re older, and men are better at making pancakes when they’re younger. So, now your pancake making will be perfectly aligned.

4. Arguments: If you figure out you’re losing an argument, you can always fall back on the line, “Honey, thanks for sharing your thoughts. But, let’s face it. I’ve got much more life experience than you have. So let’s just defer to me on this little matter, hm?”

And my personal favorite…

5. Driving: You know those rare occasions when you’re actually the one driving and your hubby is in the passenger seat? And he’s providing you with all sorts of unnecessary and unwanted driving advice? At those times I just turn to him and say, “Sweetheart, you just sit there and look good. I've been driving A LOT longer than you have, so I’ll take it from here.”

Postscript: Chris yelling from the background, “Knock it off! You’re ONLY 17 months older than I am!”

Shhhhh!

Five Tips for Marital Bliss


Today is my hubby’s and my 26th Wedding Anniversary! I was going to write a short post sharing some of the wisdom I’ve gained on maintaining marital bliss for over a quarter of a century, but I stumbled upon this video and I cannot even begin to compete with the hysterical advice of Selma and Kenny! Married 72 years, they created this short video sharing their five tips for a happy marriage with their about-to-be-married grandson.

I PROMISE you this video is worth the entire four minutes to watch. But even if you can only hang around for two, do it. I was cracking up! And now, I give you…

Selma & Kenny



Spring Break

My blogging schedule always seems to revolve around my children’s school schedule. And we are officially on Spring Break. Woo hoo! Here we are in Bora Bora, French Polynesia. I just slipped out of my hammock for a sec to grab myself a cool refreshing drink from the outdoor café and…

Okay, okay, I’m just kidding. I swiped this awesome photograph from a website I know nothing about but stumbled across because of its beautiful tropical images. You know when you’re stressed out and people tell you to go to your “Happy Place”? Well, right now this is mine! On previous spring and summer breaks, I’ve taken you gallivanting with us to Rome, Paris, Hawaii and more on this blog. But this year we are enjoying a simple “stay-cation.” I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.


Happy Easter, everyone!



Quote of the Week

"The trouble with quotes on the Internet is that you can never know if they are genuine."

~ Abraham Lincoln ~




Image by: Alexander Gardner

I’m In Love!



Well, it’s Valentine’s Day week, and I’m in LOVE

With my iPhone!

My hubby went out a couple of months ago and switched our entire family from regular “old-fashioned” cell phones to iPhones. Initially, I was dismayed. First of all, I did not have time to learn how to use an entirely new phone. Second, I saw no reason to complicate my life by carrying around a phone with which I could access the Internet, read e-mails, etc.

Added stress and confusion, I thought. Who needs it?

Well, fast forward a few months and can I just say this phone is the COOLEST! Total nerd that I am, I’ve read the entire manual. I didn’t allow myself to add any “apps” to the phone until I’d finished. My son, however, is the App King. He’s got loads of them! One app he particularly enjoys is called ROFL (Rolling On Floor Laughing). He recently had me laughing over a ROFL list titled: Truths for Mature Humans. He was reading them out loud to me as I was preparing dinner and I found many of them SO true, I finally insisted he send me the list. I won’t put all 32 items on here, but I figured I’d share what I considered ten of the most profound “truths”:


1.  There is a great need for a sarcasm font.


2.  How the heck are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?


3.  I totally take back all those times I didn’t want to nap when I was younger.


4.  Was learning cursive really necessary?


5.  MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. I’m pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.


6.  Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.


7.  Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after Blue Ray? I don’t want to have to restart my collection…again.


8.  I’m always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten-page technical report that I honestly believe I did not make any changes to.


9.  I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.


10.  I would rather carry 10 overloaded bags in each hand than take two trips to bring my groceries in.

Awww, what the hey! Let’s make it 11 truths…

11.  Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, finding their cell phone, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey--but I bet everyone can find and push the snooze button from three feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time, every time!



Happy Valentine’s Day Week!

Girl Sleepovers vs. Boy Sleepovers

My son Josh has a very active social life. His older sister hadn’t reached his level of sociability until she was a senior in high school. But every child is different, and although he’s only in his junior year, his social calendar doth overflow with abundance.

Now, I’ve become aware that when boys hang out together, it’s a very different experience than when girls hang out together. Where girls like to giggle and talk, boys like to shoot each other.

I became aware of this during one evening event when my son and some of his friends, armed with Airsoft guns, came clambering upstairs from their basement sanctuary to head outside because one of the boys had volunteered to be the target.

“What?! Wait a minute, you can’t shoot those guns at people!” I cried.

“Don’t worry, mom. Ronnie wants to get shot at.” My son patiently explained.

I turned to Ronnie. “Ronald, you’re a smart kid. Don’t you think letting people shoot at you is not the wisest choice?”

Ronnie grinned. “Well, Mrs. Bowne. There’s a part of me that thinks it’s not wise. But then, there’s this bigger 16-year-old boy part of me that thinks it sounds really fun.”

Oi!

Over the Christmas break, aside from hanging out with his friends nearly every day, my social boy participated in multiple sleepovers. Growing up, I don’t recall my brothers ever having sleepovers—back then it was more of a “girl” thing—but no more.

And now, after hosting more than a few of them, I figured I’d share some of the interesting differences I’ve noticed between Girl Sleepovers and Boy Sleepovers.

Girl Sleepovers – Mom goes into the basement to replenish snacks and drinks to discover girls snuggled under blankets, talking, giggling and/or watching movies.

Boy Sleepovers – Mom goes into the basement to replenish snacks and drinks to discover a few boys using the padded exercise mat as a protective fortress against the other boys who are intently shooting (airsoft guns again!) at them from across the room…INSIDE THE HOUSE!

Girl Sleepovers – “Mom, can we borrow your makeup kit and nail polish to play with?

Boy Sleepovers – “Dad, can we borrow your throwing knives to play with?”

Girl Sleepovers – Girls drive to Blockbuster to rent popular chick flicks such as P.S. I Love You, The Proposal, or The Princess Bride. Then stay up all night watching them.

Boy Sleepovers – Boys Drive to Best Buy to catch the midnight sale of Modern Warfare 3. Then stay up all night doing battle against evil forces.

Girl Sleepovers – “Mom, we’re going to take the family bikes and go for a bike ride to the ice cream stand.”

Boy Sleepovers – “Mom, we’re going to take apart one of the family bikes to see how it works.”

Girl Sleepovers – “Mom, can we bake brownies?

Boy Sleepovers – “Mom, we ate the entire pan of brownies and the three dozen cookies you made. Is there anything else to eat?”

Teen sleepovers…you gotta love ‘em!




Image by: Oakley Originals

Uplifting Moment...

I'm deep into Christmas preparations (like so many of you!) and spending as much time as possible talking with my girl who is home from college, my hubs who is officially on vacation, and my boy--in between his many social engagements. So in light of this, I'm taking a little bloggie break.

But never fear! I'll not abandon my blog completely during this time. To add an uplifting moment to your holiday season, I'm posting a video I posted several years ago. It has since inspired a massive international movement, but I'm going to share the 2006 video that I originally posted. I promise, if you haven't already seen it (and even if you have) it's totally worth the short commercial you must endure to watch it. Enjoy!

Twenty Something

The other day, my son told me a story which he found most amusing. An acquaintance of his turned eighteen. Amidst birthday congrats posted on her Facebook page from various friends, her mother added the comment, “Woo Hoo! I’m free! I’m free!”

I laughed out loud along with him, then I commented, “But you know, we’re never really free. We’ll always be ‘the mom’ (or dad).”

Then I started thinking about how our parenting role keeps changing over time. With the changes getting more dramatic as our kids age. Lately I’ve been freaking out about the fact that very soon I won’t be a “…freelance writing, happily married mom of two teens.” It’s not the “freelance writing, happily married” part, but the changing “mom of two teens” part that’s causing the freak.

I believe I’ve mentioned in the past that my daughter’s birthday is on Christmas Day. My due date back in 1991 was December 16th, and as it got further and further into December without our unborn child even hinting at a debut, I remember I started praying. “Okay God, please make it any day but Christmas. Any day but Christmas. Any day but Christmas…”

Yeah, well.

If anyone out there doesn’t think God has a sense of humor, I can assure you he was most likely laughing uproariously when he had our little package delivered (Sorry honey, couldn’t resist the pun!) at 10:47 a.m. Christmas morning. I’m sure he was like, “Puh-leeeze! Your names are Chris & Holly! What other day would I have your sweet baby girl arrive!”

But I digress; it’s not her birth story that’s causing me to freak either. It’s the year. Our sweet, baby girl is turning TWENTY!

Two decades.
Four quinquennials.
One-fifth of a Century.

How can I be the parent of a twenty-year old!

Part of the problem is that although in “real life” I’m 49 years old, inside the imaginary world in which I dwell, I’m a super-cool twenty something. My body knows it’s 49 as evidenced by my annoying knee twinges, plantar fasciitis, biceps tendonitis, blah, blah, blah. But in my head I only graduated from college a few years ago.

I’m not the only one who thinks like this, am I?

It’s like, all this stuff keeps happening that logically I should know is going to happen, and yet, always seems to catch me by surprise.

Like when our oldest graduated from high school and went off to college. Or when our youngest began learning to drive.

And now this. In ten days I’ll no longer be a mother of teens. My role is changing. Again.

Sigh.

But time waits for no man, or mom. So I must press on. And in so doing, I come to the truly important part of this post. What am I supposed to do with my bio on here? Since I can no longer refer to myself as a “mom of two teens,” what am I? I don’t even know how to explain myself anymore. The mom of a twenty and teen? A mom of kids who are bigger than I am? Help me out here, people. Any suggestions?



Image by: baileyraeweaver

Two Funerals and a Girls Night

I just attended my second funeral within two weeks. And while I do not park myself in the “bad things happen in threes” camp, it does feel a bit strange to have them happen so close together like this.

Whenever life-altering events like these happen around the holidays, they seem magnified for some reason. Even without dealing with funerals, it’s easy to let ourselves get dragged down by all the inherent stress that typically accompanies this time of year, to let minor speed bumps become massive potholes.

Like letting myself get seriously annoyed at the company that messed up my carefully crafted Christmas card collage. Or raging at the high-tech printer which took longer to spit out my mailing labels than if I'd hand-addressed them myself. Or to grumble over ruined cookie dough.

To sweat the small stuff.

So I’m flipping the switch. I’ve decided my “third thing” is going to be a GOOD thing. Attending these funerals has reminded me how important it is to focus on every good thing in life. That it’s our relationships which really matter. Spending quality and quantity time with the people we love.

…And the people that crack us up with their outrageous antics, shocking behavior and hilarious stories.

That’s right. I’m talking about Girls Night!

This Saturday night, I’m hanging with my Babes. They are some of the brightest lights of my life. And I’m talking the funky, iridescent, twinkling, singing (Nora!) kind. My Babes are technically my Bunco Babes. Although, whenever I mention “It’s Bunco night, baby!” to my hubs, he just rolls his eyes. Because we haven’t actually played Bunco in er…well, a few years. But that’s not the point.

I’m sure it’s a proven scientific fact that women have an actual physical need to talk. When these 12+ women and I get together once a month, it’s less about playing Bunco than it is about sharing, venting, bonding, giggling and laughing uproariously. And baby, I can use some belly laughs right about now. Salve to my soul!

So, if you aren’t already, I encourage you to join me in focusing on the good stuff. During this season of rush here, hurry there… just stop. Breathe. Think of everything you have to be grateful for. Write it all down. And if you don’t already have Babes of your own, get some!







Heart Image by: Sarah DuMay

Happy Thanksgiving!

A friend sent this to me a while back and I thought it was adorable. Enjoy!
Happy Thanksgiving!




Video Source on Youtube

How I Spent My Summer: Adventures in Paris - The Final Chapter

It was our last Parisian morning. We checked out of our apartment (sniff, sniff), but since our flight home didn’t leave until later in the afternoon we enjoyed a final stroll through the city streets and along the Champs D’Élysées. Here are some of our more memorable street shots…














The ornate architecture is so inspiring…



Several times we had these “party busses” drive past us!


And check out the way Parisians park!


Whenever somebody wants to leave, they just start whacking against the cars in front and behind until they eventually maneuver their way out of the parking space. I guess that’s what “bumpers” are for, er, oui?

We also took one final sightseeing excursion to the top of the Arc de Triomphe.

As we stood in line to go to the top, I once again took advantage of my captive audience and shared the fact that this 160-foot triumphal arch was planned by Napoleon. He liked to think of himself as an heir to the Roman emperors so he had the arch built to celebrate his military successes. It’s actually inspired by Rome’s Arch of Titus. Check out the similarities…


Arch of Titus

Arc de Triomphe

Also, France’s Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is buried beneath the archway to honor soldiers lost in World War I. The Eternal Flame is rekindled every evening.


Here’s a detail of one side of the arch showing this incredible sculpture by Francois Rude, titled The Departure of the Volunteers, honoring the hallowed figures who fell on the fields of battle. 


Finally, we climbed the nearly 300 steps to the top to see L’Étoile, the “star” effect of the 12 radiating avenues below. 


Here’s the amazing vista down the Champs D’Élysées.


And see that massive hollowed-out square-frame structure in the horizon? That is La Défense, Europe's largest purpose-built business district.


Then…it was time.

Exhausted, we trudged onto the airplane where we discovered my well-travelled hubby had arranged a surprise for us. He’d used his Frequent Flyer Miles to upgrade all of us to Business Class!  It was so awesome!




I realize all of you regular business class travelers won’t be impressed by this, but for the rest of you: Our seats reclined nearly horizontal without impacting the person sitting behind us at all! And the provided blankies were much bigger, warmer and comfier than mere economy class blankies.

Chris, the well-seasoned traveler that he is, immediately set up his bed and went to sleep. I knew I should have done the same thing but I was way too excited to sleep. Who knew when I would get to experience amenities like this again?!  So instead, I enjoyed a marathon “chick flick fest” on my supersize movie screen while sipping champagne and dining on some of the best Parisian cuisine of our trip. I also played with every button, switch and lever available. I couldn’t believe Chris was sleeping through all this great stuff! Oh, to be so cavalier about such luxury! And apparently, he did not appreciate me waking him up to share every new found delight I encountered.

All in all it was an incredible adventure. Au Revoir Paris!  Until next time!

 Image by: ReneS


Epilogue

HOLLY: Oh. My. Gosh!  Chris, hey Chris! This airplane seat has a massager in it!
CHRIS:  Zzzzzzz.
JOSH: Mooooom!  Ashleigh took champagne when the flight attendant was passing them out before the flight!
ASHLEIGH: Cut it out, Josh! I thought it was apple juice!
HOLLY: Never mind. We’re technically still in Paris, so it’s not illegal. Did you guys see that the seats have massagers in them?
CHRIS: Zzzzzzz.

If you’re feeling particularly inspired, click the links below for my previous Parisian posts:
Parts I-II (just skip the Quotes of the Week!)
Parts III – V (ditto note above!)


All photographs © Holly, Chris & Ashleigh Bowne unless otherwise noted.


How I Spent My Summer: Adventures in Paris VII

If you’re feeling particularly inspired, click the links below for my previous Parisian posts:

It was our last full day in Paris. So after dining on light, flaky sacristain (LOVE those!!) and other pastries for breakfast…

Image by: Jack06
We travelled to the Palace of Versailles!


The line to get in was over two hours long. (Naturally!)


And I could see Chris already shaking his head, preparing to leave. But I was desperate! Approaching the entrance security guard, I summoned the skills earned from my single year of college French. I indicated the line and said, “Pardon monsieur, mais est-il une autre option?

 “Oui!” he replied. Then in really great English, he explained we could save time by purchasing our tickets from a restaurant directly across the street. Dashing between cars, we bought the tickets, dashed back and made it inside the palace within 45 minutes!


The intriguing story behind this opulent structure is this: In 1661, King Louis XIV’s finance minister, Nicolas Fouquet invited the king for a weekend of lavish entertainment at his luxurious new château. Twenty-two-year-old Louis felt his authority was being undermined by Fouquet’s show of wealth, so after the festivities, he had Fouquet tossed in prison on trumped-up charges, then hired his talented building team to start work on what later became the Palace of Versailles. Louis wanted his palace to embody the divine majesty and absolute power of the French monarchy; it took 20 years and over 30,000 men to build.


Years later, Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette’s extravagant taste in decorating—which is apparent throughout this incredible structure—along with Louis’ military campaigns abroad, eventually drained the royal treasury, inspiring revolution and the end of Versailles as the royal seat of power.

Versailles Chapel

Many of the rooms are named after Roman gods and goddesses. Here is a famous Bernini bust of Louis XIV in the Salon de Diane. (Diana Room—Roman goddess of the hunt.)


 The rococo decoration of Marie-Antoinette’s bedroom is sooo over the top!




Since I’d just finished reading Diana Gabaldon’s historical Outlander series, which incorporates this palace into the events of one of the stories, I was thrilled to see the glittering Galerie des Glaces (Hall of Mirrors) for myself.


It’s renowned as one of the most famous rooms in the world, holding 17 mirror-clad arches—each with 21 mirrors—reflecting the 17 arcaded windows overlooking the amazing Versailles gardens.


I could just envision the room at night, lit by hundreds of candles. Dancers swirling past in beautiful gowns of colorful silk…


It did not disappoint!

“Hey Josh,” I said as I squinted through my camera viewfinder, snapping photo after photo. “Did you know that it was in this very room that Otto Bismarck proclaimed the unified German Empire in 1871?  Then ironically the Treaty of Versailles declaring Germany’s responsibility for World War I was signed here in 1919.”

“That’s interesting, mom.” Josh said. “I’m going to go check out that beautiful garden view from the window.” He was off in a flash. That’s strange. Josh never cares about beautiful garden views at home.


Aside from the Hall of Mirrors, I was most thrilled to tour the amazing gardens of Versailles.  Arguably the most famous gardens in the world…



Designed by Andre Le Nôtre between 1661 and 1700, the lawns are painstakingly manicured featuring parterres of flowers, sculptures and fountains in classic French Baroque style.


 Do you see that mile-long, light-filled rectangle of water behind my boys?


That’s the Grand Canal. It’s an original creation of Le Nôtre, and was the setting for King Louis XIV’s nautical spectacles. In the summer, his fleet of reduced model ships sailed its length.

We found the sculpted shrubbery most inspiring.




Good times, good times.

Arriving back in Paris, we wandered the banks of the Seine, browsing the treasure-filled iconic “green boxes” of the outdoor booksellers, or bouquinistes.


The bouquinistes have been a Parisian tradition since the 16th century, and you can often spot them in famous Paris landscapes, particularly from the Impressionist period.

Pariser Büchermarkt (Bouquinistes)
Creator:Fritz Westendorp (1867 Köln – 1926 Düsseldorf)
Image by: AndreasPraefcke

Deciding the evening was still young, we took a sunset river cruise down the Seine.


With vintage French accordion music as our backdrop, we viewed the famous bridges of Paris.


(Okay, this guy isn’t exactly “vintage” but this is a good sample of the type of music we listened to so you can get the full effect: 







This shot was taken on dry land, but here we have Paris’ controversial “Love Locks.”


Apparently couples inscribe their names on padlocks and attach them to the wire-mesh bridge railings, then toss the key into the Seine below in a poetic declaration of everlasting love. Aaaah, le romance! (Or vandalism, depending on your point of view.)

It was such a beautiful Sunday evening. Parisians relaxed by the riverside waving, playing music and blowing us kisses as we passed…



It was the perfect end to our final night in Paris.


Tune in next week for my final Parisian post!

All photographs © Holly, Chris & Ashleigh Bowne unless otherwise noted.