43. Marseilles lst day

Arrived into Marseilles knowing it was the 3rd largest city in France,

So I hailed a taxi, I am not walking these streets to get lost, by chance.

We drove in heavy traffic for about 20 minutes tops

And realized it was the first time I did not book a hotel near the train stops.

It's ok, because I am near the Mediterranean Sea,

And I need some salt air to become a better ME!

Got checked in, didn't realize it was a studio flat

Has a kitchen and a bathtub, imagine that!

Off I go to check out the neighborhood and find

A grocery store or a market of some kind.

Around the corner is a Carrefour market,

I've come to know these in France for their bargains.

Concierge said I have about a 45 minute walk,

Before I come to the tourist area, so I can gawk.

I am not too impressed with the streets,

It reminds me of a pirate town where villagers get beat.

It is noisy, dirty and not full of pretty people.

Occasionally, I see a church steeple!

Arrive at the harbor, and the sun opens up the sky,

Sailboats and tourist ships are standing nearby.

For seven euros I book a mini tourist train ride

 I figure this is a way to see some sites.

It takes us winding around the harbor, through the back way

Of the oldest part of the city, through the bay.

Recently found artifacts that date the City 20,000 years ago,

Of a civilization that lived here, that no one did know.

Most of the city is buried underneath, but this did not stop,

As floods came, they just piled dirt on the rubble and built on top.

We chug chug chug, 'I think I can' to the top of the peak,

There is a cathedral built ever so steep.

It is different than any other chapel so far I've seen,

This one is all decked out in mariner art & mosaics of the sea.

The views are incredible and can see how large Marseilles,

It is amazing to think that all this can survive.

Back at the Bay with all the carnival attractions,

A woman sings on the street for satisfaction.

At the Tourist Office I ask what is their to see in a day,

The woman tells me, "Not much, is all I can say."

I can take a bus, but does the same as the train,

Maybe you should go to the beach if it does not rain.

On the way back, I get my food and supplies

Back to my apartment, eat, wash clothes, hang to dry.

Not too exciting, people do the same thing,

No matter what culture or talents they bring.

42. Reflections on the train

On the train from Nevers to Marseilles, another one of those cities I wish I had not booked.  However, this is the only hotel that I have booked so far that does not refund if you cancel. So off I go for 2 days.

I woke up with a sense of peace about me. It is definitely this journey but also the faith that I am coming to realize through this pilgrimage with Saint Bernadette.  I felt such a safeness last night as I slept in my little attic chamber overlooking where Bernadette has lived for over a 100 years.  There was some comfort in knowing that her love radiates still.  I could feel it in the town and the people. 

I woke up this morning to a quaint little room overlooking the backyard, a sunroom.  The owner had breakfast spread out for me and I realized that I was the only one staying at his B & B. Smell of coffee brewing.  He had to get up and fix all this for me, so naturally I had to eat everything and then some.  I stuffed my purse with food for the 8 hrs of train rides ahead.  When you have a breakfast, it is good to take advantage of the buffet and use the food for your lunch as well!

The trains in France are really very nice and comfortable.  I have an entire couch and table to reside and write.  The country side reminds me of the Midwest, just like home.  Lots of farmland, grazing animals and barns and equipment are everywhere.  The houses are a bit different, more on the chalet, slanted roof design.  

The sun is shining, the sky is blue and I am at peace. I realize just like the Buddhist, the Zen, the Hindus have said, “Be of this world, not in it!”  Or be one with nature or as I remember a saying of the 6-‘s “Be here now.”  I don’t believe I have rarely practiced that, be here now!  It is the moment that we have. Living each day as your last should be something that we always should think about daily. Would we make some of the choices that we do?

I know that I wouldn’t have.  I get sad thinking of all the lost relationships, homes, furniture, and jewelry, dogs that I have lost and then something comes over me quickly that reminds me that we can’t take it with us.  That all this stuff is temporary and we cannot take it with us, so just enjoy it while you have it or them.  I heard Bernadette say, “God is the only love that you need.” It made me feel ok with the fact that I am by myself and that I have been for quite awhile.  There is something special about being alone. We go deeper inside and feel more things from people or nature that we would otherwise disregard because we have love of another person or thing.  That makes sense, that we are always search or running from one relationship to another because we are searching for that ideal love that only God can give.  I thought of Bernadette and how she never had a man, but dedicated her entire life to God and died a virgin as well. She was happy, even in chronic health. Why can’t we be happy in the similar situation?  

Yes, instead of having a pity party, I should be rejoicing that God has chosen me to be alone so that I can have the time to realize peace, patience and acceptance of who I am, what I’ve done and where I am going.  I haven stress today, none!  In the past month, I have worried, where will I go, where am I going to stay, do I walk, or get a cab, will the train be crowded; will people be rude; will I find a place to eat; can I speak the language; will I this or that….excel etc.

At the need of each day, I hear a voice say, “Well I got you thru another one, didn’t I?”  Why were you spending so much time worrying?  It doesn’t do any good. Everything always turns out perfectly the way it is supposed to.

Geez, we are such ‘doubting Thomas’s’

Ok, so now I can really ‘Let go and let God.” I thought I knew what that meant, but now I am experiencing it. So I must say thank you for loving me enough to let me experience this time of just experiencing life.”

My aunt told me that I am truly being blessed and that God has a plan for me. That I am a survivor and that I should be an example to others.”  Well I don’t know about that, but if I could, I would. but I don’t believe that another person can shortcut another’s trial and tribulations that they have to go through.  All you can do is love your friends.  If they ask you for advice, ok, you can give it, but half the time they won’t take it anyway because your path is not their path. 

 

I have no idea what’s in store for me, but somehow I am not worrying like I was. I’ll get there, no matter where I am supposed to be.  I will have money; no matter if I have a job, when I have a job or where I will live…I’ll get there.  And, I was joking about being homeless, but I really felt like it.  I don’t know, because everywhere is home when you open up your soul and just let the sun pour in.  Wow, I just realized I wanted to feel like I did when I was a free young hippy and I kind of do, but without the self-destructive, exploratory nature. 

I am happy today.  I do miss my family, and children, grandchildren, but sooner enough I will be with them.  Seeing so much death, loss , graveyards, ancient ruins, and all this stuff I’ve been seeing, shows me that yes times goes on, and all that we do, our lives are so temporary, but it is in our actions, whether it is art, loving another or even destruction such as war, that we are truly remembered. Whether great or not.

Been listening to my I-pod music that co-workers gave me for a retirement present.  I know Michael had to do with these downloads: Razor boy, Steely Dan:   “ I hear you are singing a song of the past. It may be the past for years! Will you still have a song a sing when the Razor boy comes and takes your fancy things away. You know that the turning is so close at hand.”

Daydream  Believing:  The Monkees; Wind of Change-Scorpions;

Stephen Stills; Traffic; Botecceilli; Sly and the Family Stone-Stand; Sergio Mendes-Monday, Monday;

Respect Yourself; I Will Survive; I Learned the Hard Way by Sharon Jones;  Rainy Day by Shuggie Otis;

Michael, you really put some time and effort into downloading some of the most appro songs and I really thank you for the TLC you gave to this.  Music, that is the key to many moods, feelings and happiness.

The world is passing me by on the train as we go thru the French country, chimney smoke rising, sheep & cows in the meadows – a perfect scene.

Hey, I would hire you to mix the sounds for a movie any day.

I am truly blessed – with a wonderful family; fantastic friends; people I have met and have yet to meet;  adventures and always God there to make things possible. I have always been protected. I know I am doing something that most people dream of and I don’t want to discredit the experience.  It is hard, very hard, and painful and lonely at times. My back and feet are sore at night, sometimes  I’m hungry and I don’t have the luxury of going to the fridge, but I am also seen the world on a shoestring and experiencing a sense of freedom to choose where and what I want to do each day.  I thank God for another day.

40.Goodbye to Paris

Just got on the train, man said this is for first class…yes I am first class.  Want to write some reflections about my experience, which probably isn’t every ones.

Since I was 15 years old, I have wanted to visit Paris. When you are younger you have those grandiose dreams that life is better and somehow the people that live or visit Paris are better.  Flashback to forty-five years later, and I understand that our infatuation with a City or culture, is all in our own  perception.

Life is no better, people are no better. It is what we have, what we are and what we make of all of that that makes us memorable.  When I visited the graveyards of all the famous people,  there they lay---all dead, lifeless.  However, what made them  different  is if they made an impact on other people’s lives. It seems that each one tried to personally communicate their feelings.  Really nothing is new found or different, some people just have a better talent for communicating, whether through visual or verbal.

So here I sit in the Paris train station, watching people.  I love the games we play in our mind when we are idle.  I think that most Parisiners are not that attractive. They are chain smokers, I see many spit on the sidewalk in front of you as you dodge the spew.  You have to skip over the dog crap that no one bothers to pick up. Many smugly have their nose in the air if you ask them a question, but all in all, it is pretty much like this everywhere in the world.  Some people are taught good manners and behaviors, others are just slobs. 

I love to look at the young women’s fashion. Some can carry it off with perfection, as if they haven’t even tried. Others should just give it a rest and accept the fact that they shouldn’t be wearing tights with their cheeks overflowing.  I saw one petite young blonde woman with her hair twisted up, wearing black tights, spike heels and a red cap. Now she could carry it off and looked very fashionable.  For the most part, I saw Parisianers very sloppily dressed, or disheveled. 

My experience with the food was not satisfying either.  I am so sick of bread, croissants and crepes. I guess I am gluten intolerant because I can feel the dough ball for hours.  I found it fascinating that many Parisianers  would buy a “French loaf” and carry it around with them and share a bit with their partner.  Lots of sweets too. I tried many, but began to get sick of sugar as well. Coffee, however, I found I could not live without , ordering Café Americano…that means a double shot of expresso, a bit watered down,  in a tall cup. 

Yes, goodbye Paris, to the cars running over you even if the green walk sign is on. Goodbye Paris, for all the chain smoking and cigarette butts dropped all over the streets and sidewalks.  Goodbye Paris to bumping into people on the streets and squeezing a chair under a table at a restaurant.  Goodbye Paris to people not smiling.  Goodbye to Paris in the winter when the skies are gray, foggy and rainy.

Now don’t get me wrong, I did meet some pleasant people. Some were very helpful, others just charming. They must be the ones that are happy with themselves or what they are doing. The museums were kept clean and the attendants quite nice.  I enjoyed viewing all the classical art pieces, but I found that my personal tastes were more on many of the unknown artists.  Some of the classical pieces seemed so dark, and dingy or a depressing subject. I thought, ‘Why would anyone give so much effort to painting such a tragedy, or taking so much time.’  I found myself more attention to the bright, colorful and happy subjects.  Guess it is just a matter of taste.  If you have ever read the biographies of most artists, then you tend not to like them as well. Some were very psychotic, manic-depressive, addictive, co-dependent or abusive.  If that is what it takes to inspire art, well then I am ok with liking my light and colorful pieces.

While visiting here, I remember my French teacher, Mr. Cronie.  He was a little character, reminded me of Wally Cox and sounded like the cartoon character, Underdog.  He has this cocky attitude and smugness when he spoke French or talked of Paris.  He had a way of making you feel less than he was. Or you were not good enough because you didn’t speak French and you have never gone to Paris.  I wonder if that was the seed that was planted  in me so long ago?

 If you were not traveling alone, you probably would not be aware of so much.  Sharing anything with a lover, partner or best friend always makes life fun, no matter where you are or what you are doing. So, yes, in that way, sharing a meal, discussing a painting can be exciting.  Taking it in all alone, your senses are more in tune to many other things going on around you.  So, I say goodbye Paris for busting my bubble and making me come back to a reality that I am - and anyone else that does not visit Pairs – OK with who you are!

39. Last day (of the dead) in Paris

Decided to take a walk and have breakfast on Sunday,

But I couldn't find a restaurant open today.

Walked down to the Montparrasse Tower area

Found a bistro, ordered eggs & coffee for 10 euros.

Decided to wander and found an art fair,

Bought a few small painting with a woman with dark hair.

She had a sense of humor and a sweet smile,

I decided to support her talent of all the styles.

Another woman had ink prints of the City

I found them interesting and quite pretty.

Those two women were interacting, happy and interacting with the crowd,

While other artists sat smugly as if talking were not allowed.

A few blocks down I came upon Mairie de Paris cemetery,

The guard handed me a map and as I read the names, I was surprised,

On another treasure hunt for graves, I surmised.

Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone Beauvoir are buried together,

Samuel Beckett, artist Man Ray, actress Jean Seberg.

American writer Susan Sontag,

 playwright Ionesco,

Even a cat named Ricardo.

It is quiet amongst the busy traffic sounds

I am discovering things about myself by the bounds.

Maybe it is age, maybe experience or time,

I am enjoying the simpler things that don't cost a dime!

I would say, Paris is for the young at heart

Who like the high energy, from which I now can part.

Somehow I have crossed over, where did the time go?

I can now get senior citizen entry to cinema shows!

I see a line of people up ahead,

Ask what is going on, "Oh, this is the Catacombs of the Dead!"

 The Catacombs were created in 1777,

When Paris was expanding, "Let's move the human remains."

But what to do with six million bones?

Move them to the quarries, that will be their home.

I wait inline and down and down I descend

To the limestone quarry mines and the dead.

 

 A project of stacking them in an orderly fashion began,

Skulls and long bones up front stand.

The other bones thrown behind in the back

To create a foundation for the rack.

A corridor of 780 meters run underground

Oblivious to the present day community of the town.

I thought it was quite bizarre and glad I didn't have that job.

Of stacking skulls and bones with mud dob.

 

38. Eiffel Tower

n

Today I am going to climb the Eiffel Tower

Thought I would get there early in the hour.

Much to my surprise, the lines were waiting

For the ticket office to open, but they were debating.

The rain from the night had made the steps wet,

The fog was still overcast & you couldn't see yet.

They did open but only to the second deck,

I am here, I'll do it, what the heck!

Into a steel cable car, about twenty jammed

We quickly rise to the platform and the view spanned.

The fog was rising, but the view was still great

Walked around, took photos and then breakfast ate.

I have eaten in the Versailles Palace, the Louvre and now the Tower,

Guess what I always get, quiche lorraine for energy and power.

If you are lacto-intolerant, vegetarian or need gluten free,

This is not the place for that kind of dining.

Everything on the menu is heavy and full of carbohydrates

Like pastries, pasta, crepes, quiches, my tummy hurts, I need sodium bicarbonate!

Walk to the Trocadero Square and took photos of the lovely fountains 

Decide to go to both museums on each side of them.

Enter into the History of Marine Technology and Ships,

Some are models and other lifesize equipped

One of the most odd spectacles that I saw 

Was the underwater diving suite, complete with iron and all.

How could you walk in this Jules Vern suit,

I couldn't even lift that boot.

The next building was the History of Architecture

It contained history and design on four floors.

The medieval times were shown on display,

Churches, arches and designs of  modern days.

Throughout my travels, the art is displaying
Knights or angels are dragons slaying.

Since paintings & sculptures were the way of communication,

I cannot help but wonder that this was not imagination.

I have been getting braver with my city transportation,

Tried the bus and now moving to metro stations.

It is dirty in the subways, not unlike any other city,

Graffiti, garbage, musicians and beggars, what a pity.

All throughout Paris, there are signs saying "Beware of pick pockets."

I was stopped so many times with the same dropped ring or locket.

I watched six times, the gypsies do their trick

To passing tourists, it really made me sick.

They have a gold ring in their hand, drop it and call out to you,

"You must have dropped this madam!"

Then they move in for the kill,

To see what ever they can steal.

I saw on TV a show about pickpockets and their moves,

I actually saw it done by 4 men as the push and shove.

They stole a wallet from a backpack,

Then passed it on to three other people in a sack.

This was done at the Arch d' Triump

After I climbed the tower, I spotted them by the metro step.

I wanted to find Chocolate Museum and where they give cooking classes,

I traveled by Metro and came out on Saint Denis.

I wandered the streets looking for the place,

Though I have got to leave, this place is crowded, no space.

I felt like I was in a carnival,

People in all types of costumes and apparel,

This is definately not a pretty part of town,

This is a circus - full of crazy looking clowns.

I thought wasn't worth it, took the Metro back fast.

Came out by my hotel and could rest at last!

 

37. Day of Rest with Jim Morrison

I got up at 5:30 am but couldn't move.

My feet were swollen and very bruised.

Six blisters on my soles & toes

From walking too much, to and fro.

I was completely bummed that I got an email from my bank

It seems someone has hacked my account and  this is not a prank.

So my debit card has to be closed,

Which is where all my money is, who could know?

I have to transfer funds to another account

And, hope this gets straightened out on all counts.

Finally around noon I decided to venture out into the City,

Try riding the Metro today and knock of the party-pity!

I'm going to visit the Le Pere Lachaise cemetery on the East

And pay homage to some of the well-known names, at least!

Metro six and change to the two line

Got there without a fuss in no time.

Emerged from the underground pit

There in front of me, the graveyard did sit!

Woman was selling maps of the dead

Thought I better get them without getting lost instead.

This is the largest cemetery in Paris

Over 105 acres, with monuments to great to list.

I came here especially for main  reason,

To see the grave of the 60's Jim Morrison.

You wind up through L'Avenue Principle

Follow the the corner of Plot six, that is all.

You cannot miss it, there are always fans

Some not born when died this man.

I cannot believe 41 years have past

I cannot help but wonder why his life did not last.

I believe that people of that generation have a bond

He represented a new way of thinking and of singing a song.

Bold and brash, a poet at heart

He caused commotion right from the start.

I got all choked up and started to cry

I walked away, sat on a stone and wondered why?

It all came back the memories of the 60's 

What is represented and that this was part of my pilgrimage.

To let it go and grieve once more

Of the freedom of youth as it flies out with The Doors!

Summer of 1969 and 1970 were tumultuous years,

I ran away with a group of hippies, not thinking to clear.

I was pregnant, pretty much alone

While the baby's daddy was never home.

I was on Welfare, living on San Francisco's Haight Street

Selling beads and filling in at the Filmore West beat.

I took up the money at the ticket booth

Then delivered it all backstage to the crew.

The bands thought of me as a mascot, called me "Little mama," 

Rubbing my tummy was good luck and good karma.

I remember so many that exist no longer

Either broke up or are a dead gonner.

Too much booze and drugs, bodies abused,

I saw too many die..." I quit... this is what I choose."

All the music and the stories flash back in my head,

I cried some more for all the icons that are dead.

I walked around this cemetery that is so full of history and pain

Of artist that couldn't handle life and or went insane.
Mystic enclosures it does invoke,
Legends of vampirism, black masses and prostitution are spoken.

Edith Piaf,

Salvador,

Modigliani;

Sarah Bernhardt,

 Oscar Wilde and Rossini;

Chopin, Moliere, Delacroix, Proust, Balzac.

Would you life change if you ever looked back?