Candace

More than one person has pointed out to me that I have been shamefully negligent toward the author of these adventures who is my dear wife Candace.  So here I hope to make amends.

On her way to a long-dreamed-of destination:

A very nice couple from Italy took this picture for us:

In her natural element, a garden; this one happens to be behind Shakespeare's birthplace:

With apologies to all, especially Candace,

Charles the Cad.

PARIS

Our friend, Francoise Dubeillon, lives in this 1820 building in the 2nd Arrondissement. Her apartment on the third floor is spacious, filled with light, windows from floor to ceiling opening to little balconies, updated and extremely comfortable.

There is a lift that holds one person at a time but who could resist this staircase?

This is the view north from her front door: Basilique du Sacre-Coeur high up on the hill in Montmartre can be seen.

The Paris Opera is a block away.

And the Jardin des Tuileries is a couple of blocks to the south.

Despite its outward appearance, the crepes in this little cafe were wonderful.

And a splendid dinner was enjoyed here.

We spent a lot of time at the Musee d'Orsay

where we were surprised to find they allow photography!

Lunch at Les Deux Magots

or Cafe de Flore? We chose Flore and had a splendid time.

These little wine shops are on nearly every corner and the prices will bring tears to your eyes. I bought a 2006 Coteaux du Triscatin, a n.v. Corbieres, and a 2006 Savigny-Les-Coeur for less than 5 euros! Not 5 euros each, which would still be a steal, but 5 euros for all three!!!!

Notre Dame

Place Vendome: home of the Ritz, Chanel, Cartier,...

But some of the best shops can be found in passages scattered about the city

The batobus is a great way to see the city; buy a day pass and you can get on and off at several docks along the Seine.

As if I could fit more books into my suitcases; I managed somehow.

The Last of London

This was our last day in London and we started out early at St. Pancras Station where we secured our tickets for the EuroStar to Paris.

There is a grand statue of one of my favorite English poets: John Betjeman.

And bits of his verse scattered about on the floor.

And this extraordinary, 9m., piece by Paul Day called "Meeting Place."

More sculpture nearby at The British Library: Newton.  It is massive.

We strolled through Saville Row, Piccadilly, and Jermyn Street

and ran into the fellow who is responsible for all these incredibly expensive men's fashion shops, Beau Brummell (he is on the left.)

To the Dickens House on Doughty Street.

This is where Dickens lived from 1837-1839.  Here he wrote Pickwick Papers, Oliver Twist, Nicholas Nickleby, several miscellaneous pieces and a play titled "The Lamplighter."  Amazing.

The house was brand new when he acquired it and it and the stylish neighborhood growing around it perfectly suited his status as a young man of growing fame and fortune.

We did not take many pictures in the house, lighting and spatial problems made it impossible, but I have a guidebook if any of you want to see the treasures this house holds.

Start in the basement where you can see a very good twenty minute biographical film; I usually skip that sort of thing but this was really well done and I learned a few things.

There is a peaceful garden area in back, just off the gift shop, and it is worth visiting since it contains a few nice artifacts such as this step from the "Little Dorrit Church."

We stayed a long time; there is an awful lot to see and read.  On our way back to the tube station, we decided to take a detour and visit 221B

Tomorrow: PARIS!

Charles

Bath

Coming back to London on the Stratford train I was seated across from a University of London student who made two hours go by in ten minutes; he knew everything, had been everywhere, and had strong opinions on any subject: a Brit version of John McQuillen; charming, funny and outrageous.  (Eric, he is studying with A.C Grayling!) He was appalled to hear that we were undecided about whether to go to Canterbury or Bath on our last train journey.  For him there was no question; Bath is far superior for many reasons.

The moment you leave the train station, Bath presents breathtaking visions.  This is a picture of someone mowing the Bath Cricket Club grounds.

Of course there are lots of friendly pubs; very unlike the ones in London.

A tour of Bath Abbey is a must do.

And the Roman Baths are amazing.  I usually avoid audio tours but this one is great; the British writer, Bill Bryson, is available on an alternate channel and his guidance through the baths is funny, smart and entertaining.

Lunch in The Pump Room puts you right in the middle of a Jane Austen novel.  And do try a glass of the water; its not THAT bad.

The Avon is pristine here.

Whilst Candace was photographing swans,

I was at a cafe that juts out over the river.  I struck up a conversation with the chap on the left when I saw he was wearing a Bath Rugby jersey.  Never one to hold back, I told him of my rugby days some forty years ago when I played for the Dallas Harlequins.  He told me that his club had just won the regional championship for the first time in ten years and at that moment the fellow on the right, their best player and team captain, came around the corner with the cup.  He had picked it up from the engraver and was on his way to place it in the window of the Bath Rugby Club shop.  They very kindly allowed a fellow rugger to enjoy their victory!

We have met the most friendly, generous and kind people over here; quite a culture shock.

Tomorrow: Charles Dickens.

Charles