May mixed bag

In the Butte aux Cailles neighborhood of Paris, a woman walks past “Fight 4 Your Rights,” by Paris street artist Kelu Abstract. It’s one of many installations opposing the Russian aggression in Ukraine.

The merry month of May
For this post, I have a real mix of things to share with you: some travels within France, the French election, the wonders of nature… and a national championship. First up are a few things I saw on a spring visit to Paris.

The day that I arrived, Paris welcomed me with an exquisite sunset, seen here from the Pont Neuf.
Iconic green chairs in the Luxembourg Gardens, near my hotel.
Street artist L’Empreinte Jo. V is known for his fine portraits. This one depicts the tears of a Ukrainian child, seen in the Butte aux Cailles neighborhood.
One of my favorite street artists is Seth (Julien Malland), whose inspiration for this mural was the children he met when he was staying in the Donbass region of Ukraine.

A windy day at the beach in Nice, where gorgeous shades of blue met crashing surf.
A dry tree on a hike high above Vence.
A bee on a palm tree, Hanbury Botanical Garden, Ventimiglia, Italy.
Three columns in the Hanbury Botanical Garden, Ventimiglia, Italy
“Palm Array,” Hanbury Botanical Garden, Ventimiglia, Italy.

With freedom comes responsibility
Presidential elections in France are run quite differently than those in the United States, my original country. Among many differences, there is a runoff with all the candidates who qualify—this year it was 12 people—and then the top two vote-getters move on to participate in the final vote just two weeks later.

My friend Olivier feels quite strongly that it is both a right and a responsibility to vote. At the time of the first round of presidential voting, he was hosting business clients in Bordeaux.

But Olivier votes in Paris, which requires a drive of at least five hours or a three-hour train ride. Voting always takes place on a Sunday in France; thus it was that late on Saturday evening, Olivier took the last train from Bordeaux to Paris, and went home to sleep. He arose early the next morning, and was the first person in line to vote when the polls opened at 8:00 am. He voted, then dashed across Paris to catch the earliest-possible train back to Bordeaux and his clients.

And his clients, a group of Americans, told him how impressed they were that he had made such an effort. How many among us would?

I happened to be visiting friends in Nice at the time of the first round of voting, and I asked if I could accompany them when they voted that Sunday morning. I wanted to see what it was like, to compare and contrast the experience with the voting experience in the United States. It was interesting, and worth it.

The different steps of voting: 1. Go to the desk, hand over your ID and voter card, and receive an envelope. 2. Go to a table to find pieces of paper with the names of the candidates, one name per piece of paper [see photo below]. Take at least two names. 3. Go into the voting booth for secrecy. 4. Place one piece of paper (one name) into the envelope, exit the voting booth, and place the envelope in the box. Someone proclaims aloud that you have voted. 5. Sign the voting register and your ID and voter card are returned to you.
The first round of presidential voting in 2022 included 12 candidates. The top two vote-getters went on to the second round, two weeks later, won by Emmanuel Macron.
For the second and final round of presidential voting, the results are announced at 8:00 pm the same day. I joined my friends Maryse and her son Olivier to watch the pre-announcement news shows, nervously watching the clock’s hands march toward the top of the hour. This picture was made right at 8:00, as the winner was announced. We simultaneously cheered and breathed a sigh of relief that Macron had been re-elected, and then turned our attention to those empty wine glasses. We celebrated the results with Dolium, a favorite from our friend Pierre Fil.

Mother Nature
One day I was out for a walk, and the sky was putting on a wonderful display. High winds were helping to create some delightful cloud formations such as the one in the photograph above.

That evening, I was visiting friends Claude and Maryse, and from their terrace we saw more dramatic clouds:

Last year I spoke of how I’d noticed the similar songs of three local birds: the collared dove, the hoopoe and the cuckoo. A few weeks ago I actually got to hear the harmonies in real time. First I spotted a dove and a hoopoe sitting together on a roof, both singing. A few moments later, I heard a cuckoo far up the hill above me. The three-part harmony was astounding.

I’ve found three recordings on YouTube, and I’ll include the links here. You can open three browser windows, queue up one bird in each window, then hit “play” for all of them at the same time. You’ll be able to hear what I heard in that one magical moment in time.

Hoopoe, Cuckoo, Collared dove

Parting shot (literally)
The University of Kansas Jayhawks—my alma mater—won the men’s college basketball national championship, and I’m pretty darn pleased about that. Rock Chalk Jayhawk!

One of our players is named Remy Martin, which also happens to be the name of a French cognac. During the second half of the game, the player named Remy made a few key baskets, and announcer Bill Raftery said, “There’s nothing like a little Remy in the evening.” Another yay for clever broadcasting!

(Almost) All together now

From Reuters: “People hold flares with the colors of the Ukrainian flag as Ukrainians and supporters hold an anti-war protest outside the Russian Embassy in Mexico City, February 28. REUTERS/Luis Cortes.”

None of us knows where this will end. Or how. Or when. So we do what we can to make each moment matter, every day. That’s our job anyway, even without this illegal, immoral invasion of a sovereign nation.

There have been plenty of hints, and the build-up was no secret. Once Russia invaded, though, a remarkable thing happened: NATO countries quickly formed a unified block, with other nations joining in, to condemn Putin’s aggression and take non-military steps to try to counter it. This is the most unified that NATO has been since its beginnings in the aftermath of World War II. It’s a glimmer of hope that democracy might just pull itself together to fight off the authoritarian trend the world has been experiencing.

You’ve seen the news and the photographs, and I’m not here to write about the war. I’m here to share with you a couple of stories that touched my heart, and a sampling of photographs that show how the world feels about this act of Russian aggression. It’s interesting to see Putin being compared to both Hitler and Maduro.

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Crazy Eights

Family card games
When I was a kid, games were a big part of family life. As a family and with our friends, we played board games, worked jigsaw puzzles, and we played a lot of card games. My parents played bridge, and they always enjoyed their bridge nights with friends: drinks, dinner, conversation, and serious bidding. It was loud, as I recall.

One of the games that we played as a family—and it’s played by kids all over the United States—is Crazy Eights. It’s a pretty basic game, meaning the rules are few and simple for kids to grasp.

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Christmas in Alsace

A colorful scene along the canal in Colmar.

Some friends and I had planned a magical voyage to celebrate the holidays: Christmas in Alsace, followed by New Year’s in Paris. As the departure day approached, I felt like a giddy child, squirming with anticipation at the delights to come.

Part One: Alsace
It would be my first visit to Alsace, and I was eager to experience the world-renowned Christmas markets of Strasbourg, the wines of Alsace, the colorful half-timber buildings dotted throughout the region. Yummy things to eat and drink included pastries (namely kugelhopf), sauerkraut (choucroûte), onion tarte (flammekueche), pretzels (bretzels), hot spiced wine and gewürztraminer, gingerbread, munster cheese, anything with potatoes.

Like Santa in his sleigh, our flight took us over the all-white landscape of the Alps. We landed in Strasbourg on a rainy afternoon, picked up our rental car, and headed south to Wintzenheim and the apartment we’d call home for the next five days.

Our first evening in Alsace: the 16th-century town hall of Wintzenheim. For dinner, we chose flammekueche, a sort of thin-crust pizza of onions and cheese.
A café window in Strasbourg.

Our first full day was Christmas Eve Day, and we decided that it was the day to visit the Christmas market in Strasbourg. We drove to the outskirts of the city and took a tram into the ancient center.

Strasbourg is a remarkable city, and it helps to understand a little of its history and geography. It is thought of as the crossroads of Europe, thanks to its location on the western bank of the Rhine River, which is the border between France and Germany. Humans have lived here for millennia, although the first permanent settlers were Celts in around 1300 BC. The Romans arrived in 12 BC, then later the Merovingians (early French dynasty), followed by the Holy Roman Empire (primarily Germanic). From 1681 to 1945, the region changed hands between Germany and France many times.

With all that history, as well as its location across the river from Germany, Strasbourg (and by extension, the region of Alsace) is very much a blend of the two cultures. This is clearly seen in food and wine, religious customs, literature, architecture and business. The Alsatian language is still spoken by many.

With the founding of the European Union, Strasbourg was an obvious choice to be one of the seats of power, and today it is home to the European parliament.

A stand for hot spiced wine placed in front of the ancient cathedral of Strasbourg.
After the Christmas markets and a wet stroll through the center of Strasbourg, we stopped at the Académie de la Bière (Beer Academy) for a hot drink and warmth.

After leaving Strasbourg, we decided to fit in one more visit; we arrived in Kaysersberg just as dark was falling, which gave us a delightful view of the Christmas lights and decorations in this lovely town.

All lit up for Christmas in Kaysersberg.
I saw a lot all at once: the colorful lights and their reflection on the wet cobbles, the silhouette of the dog, the youngster receiving something to drink from her mother.

A detailed view of some colorful half-timber houses in Colmar.

Our selection for Christmas Day was the city of Colmar. We arrived on a quiet morning, and we were among very few people out and about. We saw glimpses of the canals that the city is known for, and a few of the colorful half-timber structures of the region.

Half-timber is a kind of construction that was used in parts of Europe starting in the mid-1400s. The styles vary from region to region, but what is consistent is the exposure of the wooden framework. The spaces between pieces of wood were filled with brick, stones or cob. Originally, the entire exterior was covered with plaster or shingles, to protect and unify the structure. Today, the wooden frames of these historic buildings have proven so popular that the outer layer is gone, and great care is taken with the preservation of the wood, as well as the spaces between. In some regions, the wood has been carved with faces or decorative patterns. And especially in Alsace, the plaster is usually painted in vivid colors.

As we continued to walk in the city, we found more and more interesting buildings and more people, too. I expected it to be smaller than it is; just when it seemed that we must be near the edge of town, we’d turn the corner to a whole new scene. Colmar is beautiful, lovingly cared for, and full of fascinating discoveries.

A half-timber house in Colmar.
Maison Pfister in Colmar, built in 1537 for Ludwig Scherer, a wealthy hat maker. The house is heavily decorated; this panel depicts the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V.
Hot spiced wine and other treats are available at this stall in front of the Collégiale Saint-Martin in Colmar.

We thoroughly enjoyed our visit to Colmar, but the day was not done. We decided on a stop in Riquewihr, a charming village that’s much smaller than Colmar.

A lovely shop and house in Riquewihr.
A huge stork nest atop a roof in Riquewihr. The stork is a symbol of the region.
Strolling through magical Riquewihr.
An old stone well in Riquewihr.
A festive window in Riquewihr.

The 17th-century fortifications at Neuf-Brisach.

The day after Christmas we drove to Neuf-Brisach, a fortified town that was built in the 17th century to protect the French border from Germany. The design was by Vauban, an extraordinarily gifted and prolific engineer of late 17th-century France. Seen from above, the intact octagonal design includes several layers of walls and huge star-shaped earthworks.

The town itself is flat and laid out in a perfect military grid of streets, with a large central square. On this very quiet and very grey Saint Stephen’s Day, we walked around the town a bit, and then turned our attention to a museum, one that seems a bit out of character for a military town.

It’s the MAUSA Vauban, a museum of street and urban art, and it is found inside some of the bunkers of the fort. All of us are fans of street art, and we happily spent a chilly hour or so exploring the many installations inside this old structure.

It turns out that one of the people who lent his support to the founding of this museum is Jérôme Mesnager, a Parisian street artist who was born in nearby Colmar. We all met Jérôme last June in his Paris studio.

Poetry and portraiture by Guy Denning.
One of Jérôme Mesnager’s “Men in White” near the entrance to the fortification of Neuf-Brisach.

From Neuf-Brisach, we drove to Eguisheim, another quaint and colorful town full of half-timber architecture.

A street in Eguisheim.
The contrast of old and new, seen in the portico of the church in Eguisheim.
Adjacent half-timber buildings in Eguisheim.

Our adventures continued on Monday, as we had reservations for a wine tasting tour at Zeyssolff Winery in Gertwiller. The great wines of Alsace have a long history. There is evidence of vines growing in this region long before the arrival of the Romans, who cultivated grapes wherever they could. The history continues through the Middle Ages, when Alsatian wines were among the most prized of Europe. Unfortunately, wars and plagues took their toll, followed by zealous over-production, and wine production in this region nearly died out.

After World War II, there was a determination to revive wine production in the region by focusing more on quality than on quantity. Today Alsatian vines grow in a long, narrow swath in the foothills of the Vosges mountains, where the climate and the soil form a perfect combination for the vines.

During the recent covid lockdowns, the Zeyssolff family took advantage of the opportunity to create a whole new visitor experience, and it’s wonderful. Our tour began in the shop, but we quickly moved to the cave. It was pitch black except for spotlights illuminating the ends of wooden barrels, which had been painted with information about the grape varietals and wines of Alsace. There was also a short film about the history of the Zeyssolff family and how they came to be vintners. Since its founding in 1778, the vineyard has remained in the family for 11 generations.

Our guide at the Zeyssolff winery, standing near a wine barrel showing the local grape varietals.

On our last day in Alsace, our train to Paris didn’t depart until the afternoon, so we decided to return to Kaysersberg to see it in daylight. We strolled about the town, seeing things we’d missed in the dark. Olivier and I walked up to the 13th-century castle on the hill overlooking the town. I think we all felt like we’d had a great visit to Alsace, and we were now ready to turn our attention toward Paris.

The Weiss River flows through Kaysersberg.
A pub named Kaysers’ Bier is to be found in Kaysersberg.

We arrived in Paris just in time for a glowing sunset.

Part two: Paris
We had lots of plans for Paris, including museums, restaurants, and a New Year’s Eve jazz dinner (the dinner was canceled shortly before our trip, due to covid restrictions). Alas, the night of our arrival, I woke up with a sore throat, and I spent most of the time in Paris installed in our lovely apartment. I’m happy to say, though, that my friends had all kinds of adventures!

I did manage to do a couple of fun things: an excellent exhibit of the work of photographer Steve McCurry, and a light show at the Atelier des Lumières. Despite not feeling well, it was still a terrific vacation! I’m eager to see Alsace in a different season, perhaps spring when it’s full of flowers. And Paris always beckons.

Thanks for sticking with me through this extra-long post. I hope you’ve enjoyed your armchair tour!

We went to the Musée Maillol to see an exhibit of the extraordinary work of photojournalist Steve McCurry. Here is his 1984 photograph of Sharbat Gula, a 12-year-old Afghan orphan living in a refugee camp in Peshawar, Pakistan. He didn’t learn her name until 2002. She lived in Pakistan until 2017, when she was deported to Afghanistan. The return of the Taliban in 2021 put her life in danger; she requested and was granted asylum in Italy, where she now resides.
Kabul, Afghanistan, 2003. A teenage boy finds a makeshift stand for selling oranges to help support his family. This McCurry exhibit is stunning in its scope, and it is by far the most beautifully-displayed photography exhibit I’ve ever seen. It was designed by Biba Giacchetti.

We also went to a multimedia exhibit at L’Atelier des Lumières, which showed the work of Catalan artists Dalí and Gaudí.
A lively view of Gaudí’s Casa Batlló in Barcelona.
The colorful images were projected onto the huge interior walls of the building, and they were constantly shifting and moving. In one area, some kids were having fun running up and down the wall, chasing the moving colors.
Farewell Paris! À la prochaine !

Winter Solstice 2021

Looking up at a crystal chandelier and the light it casts on the ceiling.

Winter festivities
There’s a luscious full moon outside my window as I write this post, and the winter solstice is just two days away. In the northern hemisphere, this is the darkest day of the year, an occurrence that led to early rituals which continue to this day, many of them incorporated in more recent celebrations such as Hanukkah and Christmas.

Perhaps it’s human nature, or maybe it’s our western culture, but we tend to shy away from darkness, both the physical darkness of night, and the emotional darkness of some of our feelings. We avoid the darkness with busy-ness, never more so than at this time of year. We shop, we wrap, we cook, we decorate, and we party at a dizzying pace.

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A weekend in Provence

I recently joined three friends for a long weekend in Provence. One person wanted to visit the antiques market at L’Île-sur-la-Sorgue, and that was the seed of a lovely four days in one of my favorite regions of France.

Day 1 : Arles

We set off in two cars, because Maryse and Claude would be continuing on to Grasse, while Monique and I were returning to Bize. I won the coin toss to be the driver, so Monique became my co-pilote.

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