Madame Malade

Sometimes you get sick on vacation. It makes sense that it happens. It is always a huge push to even get packed and on the plane. Working until the last minute and getting the business, cats, and hens squared away. Combine that wiith disrupted sleep patterns, long flights, and the cold of Winter, and the body becomes an target for germs. I've had this happen to me about every other vacation. It's usually just a little cold, that is annoying, but not enoiugh to ruin the vacation. Not this time. The attack on my body was a strong, coordinated viral effort that knocked me out for 4 days straight.

Thankfully the French have a wonderful health care system. I didn't have to call for a doctor (I almost did on the second day of body-shaking coughing), though I could have and it would have cost me all of 20 bucks, even though I am not a taxpayer here. Cody was able to procure all the medicine I needed from our local pharmacy just by describing my symptoms. It may not be a cure for a bad chest cold, but it gives great comfort to those passed out on the couch, feeling too sick to even feel sorry for oneself.

It makes me angry to think of the crazy, corporate health care system we have at home and how much it could have cost me if I was a visitor there instead. I don't understand, how even the pathetic health care bill we just passed, can be so vilified. When people are ill, people should be cared for. No questions asked (especially about your income or insurance card).

I spent most of my bed-ridden infirmity watching movies on French TV. I owe a debt of gratitude to the cinephile nature of the French, since there was ALWAYS something good on the television. Sometimes the films were in English with French Subtitles and sometimes in just French, I think I will learn the most new words this trip from those films. I watched all of the following (and probably more that I am forgetting):

The English Patient
Johnny Guitar
The Bells are Ringing
Victor Victoria
My Life without Me
Broken Flowers
Une Epoppée
Island in the Sky
Hard Eight
A cool French Gangster movie whose name is escaping me.

Then on the fifth day, the fog lifted. I woke up, still very congested and cough-filled, but feeling a million times bettter. Enough to head back out into Paris for a steaming bowl of soupe a l'oignon gratinée at our favorite Parisian vegetarian restaurant, Le Potager de Marais. We walked in and all the tables were full. I asked when we could get seated and our very friendly host apologized profusely as he said an hour. I looked sad, but put our name in and said we would come back. We walked outside, trying to decide what to do for an hour, especially in my barely-functioning state, when he ran back out and told us we could have a table in just 2 minutes, and this ahead of the many people waiting for tables ahead of us. It was a magical moment and one that only can happen here in Paris when you are a regular. We have been coming to this place for years, and had been once already this trip. He saw that I was sick and in need of soup right away and just made it happen. It was a wonderful, delicious, life-vest just when I needed one.

I have been venturing out a bit more each day with Cody. We visited Pere Lachaise and Marcel Proust, walked through Les Halles and across the flooded Seine to see the new Mike Leigh film "Another Year'" and braved the lines today at Pain de Sucre, the Italian deli, the wine store and the cheese store to stock up for our tiny fete tonight.

I am less Madame Malade every day, and more human. Maybe by the time I get back on the plane I will have finally stopped coughing. Until then, lots of vin chaud and Cody's love and company will keep me warm and well.

Happy New Year!

Tattoo In Progress

Flocons de Neige

Traveling in winter can pose problems, but being from California, this usually means nothing more than waiting out heavy rain and wind. In Europe (and most places other than California) winter of course means snow and sub-zero temperatures both of which tend to ground trains, planes and automobiles. Cody and I just experienced that first hand. But we were lucky compared to the many who are still stuck at Heathrow.

We left Oakland via BART (train 1) and arrived at SFO with no issues. The big rains were not forecast to arrive until Friday so we weren't worried about delays. We enjoyed the lounge and boarded the plane with nary a problem. I watched one movie and then conked out until Cody woke me up in time for breakfast. I NEVER sleep on planes, so this was a nice treat. Business class (thank you air miles) makes such a big difference. We had to circle Heathrow once, but then landed mostly on time. Then we sat, stuck on the tarmac, with no gate to pull up to so we could deplane. Our pilot updated us that the tiny bit of snow that had fallen that day was wreaking havoc on the ground. We had no idea how badly until, about 1 hour later, we finally made it to a gate and exited the plane. I turned on my phone only to receive a text message that out flight had been canceled. Gulp.

We made our way to customer service only to encounter a line about 4 hours long. We decided to get our baggage and try customer service on the phone instead. When we got to baggage claim, the extent of the cancellations became clear. Hundreds of unhappy people were milling about waiting for their bags. Some had done this 2 days a row, only to have their flight canceled again. After about a half hour I decided to make my way to the main airport to try and get some help while Cody waited for the bags. The scene was utter chaos. British Airways was not even offering rebooking on the ground anymore and were advising folks to call or use the Internet to rebook. I tried both and both were down because so many people were trying to connect. At that point I decided to see if we could get tickets on the TGV to Paris. I managed to find a free Internet terminal and found 2 tickets for the last train out of St. Pancras at a whopping 300 dollars each. I called Cody and we decided to go for it, price and all (I will try and get some refunded on Monday) and I am so glad we did. All flights have been canceled since then and all the trains on Saturday and Sunday have been sold out.

Cody finally found our baggage and we hightailed it to the London Heathrow Express (train 2) to Paddington, where we hopped on the tube, having to transfer once (trains 3 and 4) and finally arriving at St. Pancreas with an hour to spare. The train (train 5) left an hour late and had it's speed restricted due to the cold weather. Time slowed to a crawl, but finally, 3 hours later, we arrived in Paris. Of course the metro had stopped running (it was 1 am local time) so our last hurdle was to find a taxi. The queue for them was terribly long so we got a little French about it and flagged one down a little ways from the end of the line. 50 euros later (we were so tired we didn't even care that we had paid a premium to this cab driver) we arrived. The key was under the mat and the concierge and even turned on the heat for us. We collapsed in to bed and slept like the dead.

It took 5 trains and 1 plane to get to Paris but here we are. The snow is falling in big beautiful flakes, like big fluffy pieces of wool or cotton. The lights of Paris are beautiful and the chocolate chaud and long underwear are keeping us warm. Out apartment is lovely and just next to arts et metiers metro and up the block from my favorite patisserie, pain de sucre. We have breathed a big sigh of relief and are now sampling the delights of our second city. Today my favorite food market and dinner with Flo and Jacky. We won't have to get on a plane for 3 weeks. Until then, I just won't worry about it.

8 days and counting...

...and Cody and I will be on a plane, headed for Paris (via Heathrow). The weather undergound tells me it is reallllly cold in Europe right now. Highs in the 30s at best! I am planning on buying some silk long johns for the first time in my life this weekend. And then continue to try and get everything done. Somehow it always does get done... But wish me luck, or better yet, “Bon Chance.”