6+ Months     Hasta Luego     Days 122-157     Western sunrise     Days 85-122     Gaudi was right     Days 72-85     Barcelona rises     Days 59-71     Anchovies and Kitty Cats     Days 47-58     Patrino means paradise     Days 39-46     Alp d'Hamish     Days 24-38     French Laundry     Days 18-23     Conquering Britain!     Days 10-17     Made it to Mosjoen!     Days 6-9     Arrival in Frankfurt     Days 1-5     SF - Vancouver     - Email Leslie     - Email Sasha

August 24, 2004, Sasha Days 24-38 Of all the fancy ways to cross the English channel (hovercraft, jet boat, chunnel) we picked a very large and slow boat. As we waived good-bye to England, a torrential rain storm quickly hid the white cliffs of Dover from us and rocked the boat as we headed east. Calais was the destination and we ended up spending the night at a hotel recommended in our mostly trusty 'Lonely Planet' book. The room was dirt cheap and included a toilet and shower, which are for some reason luxuries in this part of Europe. The room was fine, although the toilet was right next to the bed. We called it a bathroom with a bed included. It was too funny, almost felt like we were in prison. Speaking of prison, the next day we rode into Paris and checked ourselves into one of it's Hostels. It was the only semi affordable Paris digs we could find online, and at $65 for a private room it was hardly a bargain. We had excellent luck with Hostels until then. The Paris variety was horrible, we hardly made it through one night and quickly cancelled the 2nd night. That night we went into an internet cafe to book a hotel, and we found a nice one near the Bastille. Unfortunately when we arrived to check in, an incredibly arrogant and rude manager told us the hotel was full and we'd have to go somewhere else. He called the sister hotel on the outskirts of town and we reluctantly went to check it out. We were on the verge of ditching Paris altogether but luckily it was a nice clean hotel with friendly people in a nice neighborhood, so we stayed. Paris is certainly not the best place to get a feel for France. We ran into rude and arrogant people many times. For instance we handed an address to a taxi driver for a nice restaurant downtown. He looked at the paper, turned up his nose, then walked straight past us into a cafe and ordered a coffee. He mumbled something like 'go find someone else' which we did. That taxi driver was even reluctant to take us there. Luckily Leslie's french also includes some very demanding words, which worked out in our favor. That said, there were plenty of wonderful Paris experiences. We both got our hair styled at a coiffure near the hotel. A petit Portuguese hipster gave us both stylish coffs to wander the city with. We strolled endlessly through romantic streets and sampled exotic delicacies (for me at least) like Foire Gras. We found a coin launderette to do some laundry and I unloaded a bag of laundry into the front-load wash without realizing that a very large book was in with the clothes. My brand new 1/2 read David Sedaris book quickly appeared in the window of the washer, slowly absorbing water, waiting for it's slow death by agitation. To make matters worse the washer locks itself for the duration of the wash (makes sense, front loading), so Leslie and I watched as my book slowly turned to pulp, then shreds before our eyes. David's work was a bit dirty anyhow. 3 more wash cycles later and we were on the road west through some incredibly beautiful roads. We happened upon the town of Chartres where we checked into the cutest little peach colored hotel called "Le Boef..." something or other. We called it the Beef hotel, but really, it was cute. Not that Beef is cute... Well never mind. After Chartres we continued towards the Lorie Valley and stumbled upon the most romantic spot ever, an old farmhouse B&B run by a man and his dog. It had a gorgeous pond in the back yard and the owner fed us wonderful food and local wine. Reluctant to leave we wandered more through the Loire valley, past Chateau after Chateau, castles, cathedrals, villages carved out of limestone and ended up at another peach hotel in the middle of a midaevel town with cobblestone streets. Somehow France can get away with the arrogance, rude behavior, even more rude motorists. There are wonderful treasures, warm people and incredible experiences, they just take a little longer to find. Love, Sasha and Leslie