- A Canadian expatriate living and exploring first France now Germany, then BACK to FRANCE (!!!) with her family; former fashion designer, turned unexpected UNLIKELY NOMAD, raising two children, writing, photographing, painting, playing piano (who knew!!) and blogging - and now... full time student at ART SCHOOL!! (I MUST be crazy!!)
Friday, March 9, 2007
Journey to Spain
The first evening we arrived after over-nighting on the sleeping car (couchette) from Dijon to the Spanish border, replete with double bunks, individual reading lights that can be switched on and off, on and off, ON AND OFF…many many times before Mommy or Daddy yell, upper and lower lime green sleeping bag jobbies and individual freshen up kits which included exactly one wipe, 2 breath mints and ear plugs (like that’s going to do it???) I guess if everyone smells REALLY bad the earplugs could be used in other orifices or sensory organs as well… The kids were great, but REALLY excited and once all the prerequisite giggling had died down to a dull roar, we settled into a comfortable sleep, lulled by the timeless sound and motion of the train.
We woke in the morning true to French form, without showering, (ok…so that is SO VERY tongue in cheek) and our with our first thoughts being of BREAKFAST. Visions of steaming mugs of hot coco, yogurt and chocolate croissants danced in our heads and when we enquired of the red faced stubbly sleep encrusted steward, who by the way looked as thought he had had something entirely different to DRINK for breakfast, in which direction exactly could we find the dining car he looked at us with a bemused expression and replied…Nada…
As in NO…meaning none…like as in NO FOOD AT ALL??? (just to be sure)???
Rats. (Did I say one of the best things about traveling is the FOOD!!)
We managed to scrounge some oranges and juice from the night before to appease the masses and arrived after a breathtaking journey in between the rocks and the sea of the Costa Brava. The wind swept Mediterranean lay on the left and the snow capped peaks of the Pyrenees on the right. As we travelled further south the heavy veil of misty Dijon grey lightened like a watercolor to clear brilliant blue and the architecture transformed from the austere ivory limestone of Provence to more ornate colorful Spanish stucco punctuated with white trim and dusty olive, palm, and citrus trees.
Once we arrived the cab went up and up and up...to the hills.
Train journey to Spain... 150 Euros
Watching the moon rise over the Med... Priceless...