An Evening Hike - Following the Sheep Trail

On Sunday evening, after a short break to regroup, Beth and I went walking again, to the south part of Iona again. Since I had purchased a map earlier in the day we were able to take a short cut and get to the golf course faster. There we encountered another hiker who told us we were on the right path to Saint Columba’s Bay (which is where he was supposed to have initially landed when first arriving at Iona from Ireland).

After some hiking over hill and dale we made it to the beach. This was not a sandy beach, but rather one covered in large pebbles and stones. We found some more examples of cool rocks (we are bringing home a few samples as crazy as that sounds). I also recorded the very cool sound of the waves breaking on this stony beach.

From there we went looking for the marble quarry. A guide yesterday said it was a bit difficult to get to, but worth the effort, so we were putting in the effort. We didn’t find the path marked on the map so we ended up climbing over some difficult terrain, but eventually we found the abandoned marble quarry. The altar in the Abbey was made from marble taken from this quarry, and it was a beautiful work of art. It was hard to imagine such a beautiful item coming from such a place as the quarry, which seemed to be primarily chunks of rock of varying sizes, albeit differently coloured than all the other rock on the island. We found a small piece of marble with some green in it (similar to the green rocks we found earlier), so into my pocket it went, another unusual souvenir from Iona.

From the Marble Quarry we took what I thought was a trail back marked on the map, but in reality it turned out to be nothing more than a sheep trail. It‘s a good thing Iona isn’t that big, so we couldn’t get really lost. So up and down over the hilly terrain we went making our way back to the village. In some of the low spots we encountered the famous Scottish bogs - and first Beth, then myself got our shoes muddy and wet. Walking over such soft ground was a new experience for me, used to the dry hard ground of the prairies.

Eventually we spotted the road we needed to get back to our B&B - where we changed our shoes and pants and went to eat, both of us being famished by this point (about 9 PM). The restaurant (same one as yesterday) was nice enough to serve us, even though we were there right at closing time (for the restaurant part anyway, the bar part remained open later). The fish and chips we both had tasted mighty good after so much hiking around (and since we hadn’t eaten a proper meal since breakfast).

Beth fell fast asleep, even with the lights on (as I was working on the computer, trying to catch up with my notes taking and picture transferring.) After a short bit, I couldn’t keep my eyes opened, so I joined Beth in the land of Zees.

A Full Day on Iona and Staffa

Sunday began with a large breakfast served by our host at the B&B. Eggs, bacon, ham, oat cakes, cereal, mushrooms, tomatoes, coffee and juice. Needless to say when we were done all that we were full!

Then it was off to the Abbey for the Sunday Morning Communion service. Unlike the service of the previous evening, this one was done well and was a joy to participate in. They really do a good job of welcoming and including all people in their worship services. The presiding minister that morning was an Scottish Episcopalian Priest and his leading of the Eucharist was very gracious and inviting, yet at the same time reverent. There were some new songs that were part of the service that I quite liked and so I knew I would need to check out the bookstore. Which is what I did following the service, but oh what a dangerous place that bookstore was… too many interesting titles. I did some initial checking but decided that I would have to come back the next day when I had more time to sort through which ones I wanted the most (I couldn’t get everything I was interested in because it would make my wallet too light, and our suitcases too heavy).

Early in the afternoon we boarded a boat heading to Staffa Island (a small island about 5 miles north of Iona). On the island we were able to see puffins up close, really close (though it took a little time for them to come in from the ocean where the flock was hanging out as a protection from the ravens and gulls). Once they started flying we discovered how fast those little birds are - they don’t look like they are built for speed, but it was hard to get a picture of them in flight! Eventually when they started landing near us we got some great close up shots of these colourful and interesting birds.

At the opposite end of the island to where the puffins were is the large cave called Fingal’s Cave. It is in this place that Mendelssohn got inspired to write a symphony. The geological formation of the island is partly what makes this cave a fascinating place to visit, patterns of hexagonal rocks form most of the island, like stepping stones around the perimeter. It is actually on those ‘stepping stones’ that we walked to get to, then into the cave. Once inside Fingal‘s Cave one is surrounded by the sound of the sea. There was even a deep booming sound made by the waves crashing into the cave. I made a recording in the cave (though much of it has other tourists talking, mostly about posing for pictures… I was getting a little irritated, but didn’t think I could say “Could I please have a minute of no talking so I can record these sounds”. The boat was soon leaving so I had to stop recording and head back to the docking point.

We’ve been told by many locals, including the folks on the boat, that we had exceptional weather for visiting Staffa. I can attest to that because I came back with a bit of a sunburn! The only thing that could have made the trip better was to have spotted a whale, which is what one of the tours the previous day did. But we did see the puffins, and that was what we were looking forward to. The day wasn’t even over and it already was packed with great sights, sounds and experiences.

Martyrs’ Bay Restaurant

Eating establishments on Iona are few and far between. Dennis and I had been touring through the Abbey and various sites but we also wanted to walk across the island to see the spouting cave and possibly St. Columba’s Bay. It was about 6:00 so we were starting to think about supper also but neither of the hotels on the island serve dinner that early. The dinner hour is fairly short, too, so we had pretty much resigned ourselves to crackers in our room later on. We turned the corner from the ferry to start following the map and there right in front of us was the Martyrs’ Bay Restaurant and Lounge. (As an aside, Martyrs’ Bay is where hundreds of years ago those dastardly Vikings came ashore and slaughtered the Benedictine Monks).

Anyway, the restaurant appeared to be a fairly new establishment which is probably why it wasn’t included on the island map. We went in and asked the woman when they started serving dinner and she replied “Just now”. This was great timing so we decided to have supper before our walk. Dennis opted for a scallop dish and I thought I should try the local prawns. I was expecting some nice shrimp in garlic butter. What I got were some nice shrimp but still completely in their little bodies. I was very taken aback by the number of legs they have. I’m a little bit picky about eating and don’t really enjoy having to work around bones so I knew I was going to have trouble with this. I started by chopping off the tail and digging out the meat (it tasted very good). After a bit Dennis asked me if I was going to get enough to eat because I just couldn’t make myself dig into the torso and I had no idea how to get anything out of the claws. I was also a little unnerved by the eyes ; they seemed so reproachful. So the lesson for me (other than that sometimes you don’t get what you expect in life and you just have to deal with it) is that I should read the menu more carefully and analyze about the naming of the dish - Whole Local Prawns; after all, these are the people who invented haggis.

The reward for me (and Dennis) was to share an order of sticky toffee pudding with cream for dessert - that made it all worthwhile!

Arrival In Iona and an Unexpected Lesson

Sleeping on the train was fine, if a bit crowded, before we knew it we were pulling into Glasgow. A steward came around with coffee (for Beth) and orange juice (for me) just before we arrived. Taking the Caledonian Sleeper was another unique experience on this pilgrimage of ours.

We needed to change train stations to catch the train to Oban, so a quick cab ride, and we were boarding another train (this time just sitting, no berths). It quickly became apparent that the Americans sitting close to us on this train were also travelling to Iona. As the train made its way through the Scottish countryside we were interested to see boats left to rust along the shorelines. Beth said it was like old farm equipment left in tractor graveyards on the prairies.

Next was a short ferry ride from Oban to Craignure, we didn’t pay attention to how short it was and I ended up wolfing down my food. From the ferries we loaded onto some buses (two full buses heading across the Island of Mull to catch the ferry to Iona - there were a lot of pilgrims that day.

Once on Iona, we walked up to our Bed & Breakfast, which was not too far from the ferry terminal, but required us to walk a short distance down a gravel road - no rolling our suitcases over that terrain! There was no one there when we arrived but we were greeted with a note left for us by the owner. We settled in and breathed a sigh of relief, we could finally take it easy after a long journey with many transfers. There were sheep all over the place, a very pastoral setting, we were certainly not in any city anymore.

Once we had caught our breath we went to look at the ruins of the ancient nunnery (literally a stone’s throw from our B&B). After that we went to the Abbey, which is not in ruins because George MacLeod, a 20th century Scottish minister, set about restoring it and developing a new Christian community within it. At the Abbey we got a guided tour, which was helpful because there is so much history in that little place.

We were both getting hungry but had a hard time finding a restaurant that was open - there are only three on the island, and it was too late for Tea, and too early for Dinner at two of them. Fortunately for us the Martyrs’ Bay Restaurant was open - I had scallops, Beth had prawns (for more about this read the next post).

Following supper we headed off for a walk to the south part of the island, we got as far as the golf course (which had the most natural hazards of any course I‘ve seen as it was populated with sheep and cows), We saw the spouting cave off in the distance (spouting water of course), and we found some cool rocks on the beach (including ones with unique green colouring, like nothing I’ve ever seen before).

We made our way back to the centre of the Island because I wanted to attend the 9 PM Welcoming worship service at the Abbey (the Iona Faith Community runs its programs from Saturday to Saturday - that was why there were so many people heading to Iona on that particular day). The service was not as impressive or moving as I had hoped it would be… but there was a message for me in this service (reminding me that the Spirit moves in mysterious ways). The preacher, a young woman from the Iona Community, talked about expectations, and the dangers of letting our expectations govern us rather than accepting what is and learning to see God's presence in the moment. She even said the phrase “expectations about travel” in her message - I think that was directed exactly at me! So it wasn’t an amazing service, but it was an amazing service - part of the mystery of Iona... it isn’t exactly what you expect, but it is more than you expect.

Following the service we retired to our cozy little place and went to sleep quickly, a little food and wine, and a lot of fresh air helped. Tomorrow would be our only full day on Iona I wanted to be rested for whatever would come.

By Ourselves in London (sort of)

Friday we slept in a bit since our tour with Globus was over and we didn’t have to follow their schedule - that was nice. At breakfast we ran into a number of folks from our group who were getting ready to fly back home that day - so we ended up saying a bunch of goodbyes. This was a good group to travel with, no one really got on our nerves or caused problems, and there were some new friendships struck up in these past 11 days.

Beth and I took advantage of our hotel’s location to walk to Baker Street (only a few blocks away) where we found the Sherlock Holmes Museum. The supposed address of the fictional detective was 221B Baker Street. There actually never existed such an address, but in a building closest to that address a museum was developed. They had most of the rooms set up like they would have been in Sherlock Holmes day - with lots of antiques to set the mood. If was fun walking up and down the creaking staircase and seeing all the paraphernalia from a century and a half ago. Probably the most amusing part was a display of actual letters written to Sherlock Holmes by people wanting help to locate a missing wallet and such (my favourite letter started “Dear Mr. Holmes, I am writing to you, which is stupid because I know you do not exist, but I have to because my teacher is making me…)

After this Beth and I walked to Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, which is a huge green space in the heart of London. Beth informed me that this was where in the past all the rich folks went to see and be seen. It is a lovely space and gave us a sense of breathing room after being in crowds so much of the time. We saw all kinds of birds by the (man-made) lake, including a swan with her fuzzy cygnets. After wandering around this huge park for a couple of hours who did we bump into but Chris and Rich from our Globus group! That was an amusing coincidence for all of us.

In Kensington Gardens we saw the statue of Peter Pan, put there in secret one night by J.M. Barrie, the author of the book. J.M. Barrie’s residence was right on the edge of the park, close to where he placed the statue. There were all kinds of things to see as we wandered around, but we just enjoyed having some time with no agenda. Eventually we walked back to the Hotel where who should we meet again but Chris and Rich! We all decided to go to a British Pub for Fish and Chips. I had a Pear Ale for the first time, which I thought was quite nice. Of all the people on our tour we got to know Chris and Rich the most, and have really enjoyed their friendship. He is a retired Science teacher, and she is a Speech Pathologist from Upper New York State. We had an enjoyable meal together then headed back to the hotel where we said farewell (again). Beth and I collected our luggage and made our way to the train station in order to catch the Caledonian Sleeper - an overnight train to Glasgow.

We got to the station quite early, and ended up having to wait over 3 hours before we could board. During that time I searched desperately for an internet connection so I could post for the Mysterium gathering back in Regina - I finally found one outside the station and the message was sent and I could relax.

We boarded the train shortly before midnight where we were shown to our berth, our really small berth - but our staying in European Hotel rooms helped prepare us for sleeping in small quarters. After the train departed Beth and I went up to the lounge car for a glass of wine, then quickly retired to bed - which after such a lot of exercise (over 24000 steps on Beth’s pedometer) we fell asleep quickly to the gentle rocking of the train.

Changing of the Guide/Guard and other things in London

As I mentioned in one of my previous posts, in London we said goodbye to Elzo our tour guide by this point, on Thursday morning we were greeted at the bus by a cheerful British lady, Andrea, who was our London tour guide. She was great as well, a very knowledgeable and experienced guide, with a quick wit she was entertaining as well as informative, and she had the craziest umbrella to indicate her presence to the group.

Driving around London in the tour bus was tricky because of the Tube strike, however we still managed to see all the highlights (though most of them only from the bus). We saw places I recognized from literature and news reports, saw statues of people familiar from history lessons, and it all went by so fast that it made my head swim. Of course we saw plenty of stuff related to the Royal family, but my favourite was the shop that was the Royal ‘Lamp Shade Shop’.

We finally got to stop and get off the bus at Saint Paul’s Cathedral. We were fortunate to arrive before any other groups that morning, which was nice because the church was not crowded with people milling about. I had a better sense of spiritual connection with Saint Paul’s Cathedral than any of the other large churches visited on this trip, perhaps because it wasn’t as filled with tourists, and perhaps because it was less ornate on the inside - the actual structure seemed to suggest that what happened in the building was more important than the building itself.

I made a special effort to seek out the painting The Light of the World by Holman Hunt. This famous painting portrays Jesus standing at a closed door with a lamp in his one hand and the other hand is knocking on the door. It was larger, and more colourful than I had expected. I could have stayed and admired it for quite a while, searching out the meaning and symbolism in the painting, but we had limited time in the Cathedral, so instead I bought a small poster of the painting (with a history of explanation of the artwork on the back).

There were many famous landmarks we saw, things like Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, and 10 Downing Street - but we even saw some famous people: at one point traffic was being held up the police and our guide said this meant someone famous or powerful would be coming along, and sure enough along came a motorcade with Michelle Obama and her girls in one of the cars. I had read in the paper the previous evening that Michelle Obama and her daughters were in London (they had taken in a performance of The Lion King according to the news report) so it was a bit of a thrill to see them in person (sort of). Apparently President Obama was off doing presidential things somewhere else, but Michelle and the girls stayed behind in Europe for a bit of a holiday.

The morning tour ended with the changing of the guard ceremony at Buckingham Palace. The bus driver, Jimmy, had obtained a special permit which allowed him to drive the bus down the lane leading to Buckingham Palace (which apparently is a rarity) thus we saw the changing of the guards from two vantage points, the bus itself (which enabled us to see over the crowds) and the sidewalk in the ideal location thanks to our London guide (which enabled us to hear the band and take great pictures). Once the pomp and ceremony was over it was back on the bus, and back to the hotel.

There were so many things we saw that morning that I couldn’t begin to list them all, but let me end this post with a couple of favourites. We drove by one church that had a pulpit built into the wall on the outside of the building. This was done because at one time that church was so popular that it always had overflow crowds who stood outside the church during the service - so this outside pulpit was built so that the crowds on the sidewalk could hear a sermon as well (imagine that!) Another place of interest was the hospital where penicillin was discovered (and Princes William and Harry were born). And finally there was Baker Street, the address of the fictional detective Sherlock Holmes (though his address in the books, 221B Baker Street never actually existed) the 200 block of Baker Street has become a site sought out by fans of Conan Doyles’ famous creation (but more on that in another post).

First Impressions of London

We had been warned before arriving in London that there was an Underground (Tube) strike. Since 3 to 4 million people take the Tube everyday, getting around was going to be problematic. We arrived at the Hotel, the biggest one we’ve stayed in yet (though the rooms were still small). There we said goodbye to our Tour Guide Elzo, who had really been an informative and pleasant guide. He was heading home to the Netherlands for a few days to prepare to leading a tour to Russia and China (including Mongolia)!

Beth and I settled in a little then decided we would walk to St. Martin’s Theatre for the evening performance of The Mousetrap. Walking down the street was an adventure in and of itself since the sidewalks were packed full of people due to the Underground strike. And what diversity of people, on the streets we walked down I think we heard more non-English languages being spoken than English. We saw many shops and restaurants for people from the Middle East, many signs had Arabic writing on them, and many of the eating establishments also had hookahs out front (quite often being smoked by all ages of Arabic looking men (though I did see a couple of Caucasian young women smoking a hookah at one place). This was certainly not the London of Mary Poppins!

It took a long time to walk the 15 or 20 blocks to the Soho area of London (where all the West End Theatres are), simply because the streets were so full. Once we got to the right area, and located St. Martin’s Theatre, we picked up our tickets and still had over an hour before the doors opened. We found a little restaurant in the area called The Stock Pot. Here Beth was able to have a Liver & Bacon special - I had a taste (it was pretty good, but it was still liver). Beth enjoyed this because she doesn’t get to have liver at home since the kids all dislike it, and normally it is not to my liking either. I simply had a chicken and mushroom dish, which was nice, if not adventurous.

Back to the Theatre, where we took our seats. First thing I noticed was that the theatre was smaller than I expected. We were in the front row of the first balcony, excellent seats - where we could see everything very well, and yet were pretty close to the actors as well (we could easily see all subtle face expressions). However, just like La Scala in Milan, my knees pressed up against the balcony - obviously built for smaller people with shorter legs!

The theatre lights dimmed, some music that sounded like it was recorded 50 years ago played an opening fanfare based on Three Blind Mice, a female voice screamed in the dark… the play had begun. Before I knew it the intermission was taking place (during which a safety curtain came down in front of the main curtain - which neither Beth nor I could figure its purpose - we knew that it was a ‘safety curtain‘ because those words were painted on it in really large script letters). Beth and I chatted about who we thought were the best suspects (this is a play written by Agatha Christie, thus a murder mystery of course). Then the second act began. When it finished neither Beth nor I were right, but one of the actors told us during the cast call to “keep the secret of whodunit locked in your hearts” so we can’t tell you who it was!

This play is the longest continuously running theatre show any where in the world - currently in its 56th year! There was a sign in the theatre lobby that noted which number of show it was - I don’t remember the exact number but it was over 50,000. I think it is such a classic that it has influenced many other movies, books and even games since it opened. I don’t know for sure, but I wondered if one of my childhood favourite board games, Clue, was influenced by this play. For sure it was influenced by Agatha Christie books.

Over all it was a most enjoyable production, with great acting, interesting plot twists, and a superb setting. There were some humorous bits, and some dramatic moments, and it kept us guessing to the very end. No wonder it has played so long.

Getting back to the hotel was an adventure as well. We kept trying to hail a cab (at the corner the theatre usher suggested) but every cab that drove by was already taken. We had been standing in this spot for 15 minutes when some other members of our tour group happened to walk by. We decided to combine forces to try an hail a cab. Still no luck, finally we started walking back to the hotel. At one point we came across a phone booth, and I tried to call a cab that way - after some frustration trying to use coins to make the call (ending up using a credit card!) I was further thwarted by the cab companies having a automated recording saying “Due to the Tube strike we are experiencing high call volume, please call later.” So we kept walking. Eventually, purely by luck we came across a cab that was available, and we were able to make it back to the hotel before midnight. I wasn’t too happy about the Underground Union that day.

The Mystery of Travel

As I write this special entry for the folks gathering at Mysterium tonight, Beth and I are sitting in a London train station waiting for our overnight train to Glasgow, Scotland (and eventually Iona). I’ve been thinking about our experiences these past 12 days and what I could say about them that would be meaningful for a Mysterium gathering. I would like to share what I have learned on this travel adventure so far.

First I have learned that people are different from place to place, and to really experience this you need to encounter people in their normal surroundings. The people of Rome were different from the people of Lucerne, who were different from the people of Paris, and the people of London. Yet in spite of cultural differences, different languages and accents, different dressing customs, different foods and drinks, I also learned that people are the same wherever we’ve gone.

Our tour group had people from Australia, New Zealand and all across the United States, yet we had more in common than we had differences. As we interacted with the people in Italy, Switzerland, France and England, we were always able to find a commonality. In the larger cities the whole world was represented with immigrant populations from Africa, the Middle East and Asia, yet there too I was reminded that people are people and we have more in common than we have differences. I have watched parents interacting with their children, and it was easy to understand what was happening, in spite of language barriers. I have had strangers trying to help us when they recognized a look of uncertainty and frustration on our faces, in the same way I would attempt to help someone else. Travel has shown me something I have said for a long time, we live in a global village.

Specifically this trip, the travelling we are doing at this moment, has opened my understanding about how the Christian faith has decreased in Europe, once a stronghold of Christianity. Simply put, the Christianity of large lavish cathedrals, while perhaps inspiring in one way, also distracted people from some of Jesus’ central teachings - and when the church was less and less connected with political power the people over here, who experienced the hypocrisy first hand, simply disregarded that which didn’t make much sense to them, especially when there was no political or social price to pay. Too many wars fought in the name of Christ, too many wars fought by those who claimed the name Christian, too many lavish buildings while the masses starved, too much church and empire. The Kingdom of God was lost in the shadows of Christendom.

Yet at the same time I also see signs of hope, the spark of faith still alive. I cannot even come up with specific examples, but somehow I sense it in land of deep history. Being here is a reminder that today is not everything, that the important things are measured in decades and centuries, not in instant gratification. God is in the big picture, as well as in the details.

Lastly travel has shown me the beauty of an incredible creation, with diversity in landscape, climate, animals and more. Every day we have seen things that would not have been possible had we not travelled. There is beauty everywhere, though it is different aspects that reveal the beauty of a specific place. There is so much to see in the world and I am reminded how big the world really is, even though in the universe it is really small.

The Mystery of Travel is this… that it reveals new mysteries, more to learn, more to discover, more to wonder at, more to be in awe of. I wish we had more time to discover the fullness of each place we’ve visited so far… we have seen so much, and yet we have seen so little… such is the Mystery of Travel.

Posts to be more Sporadic

Greetings to all our faithful readers. We are currently in London, and about to head out for another day of sightseeing. Up till now I have been using the travel time on the bus to write up my blog entries, but that daily routine is gone now that our Group Tour with Globus is over. Thus I'm not sure how often we will be able to find time to write further about our journey, and because we are staying in Bed & Breakfast places most of the time from here on, how often we will have internet access in order to be able to post.

We have been making notes, and intend to flesh them out into full postings when the opportunity arises, but if you don't see any new postings for a few days, this would be the reason. In general let me say that the group tour was great, and we saw lots of things, but we are ready to set off on our own, with our own agenda and schedule.

Notre Dame, Quiche and Crepes

We are currently zipping along the France countryside, and I meaning zipping! This Eurostar train from Paris to London is faster than the Rome to Milan train (which I thought was pretty fast), but it’s not as smooth as the Italian train. Let me return to yesterday and our final evening in Paris.

Rather than join the group in the optional evening excursion to the Moulin Rouge, Beth and I chose to do some more sightseeing of Paris on our own. We took the Metro (the Paris subway) from right outside our hotel to a stop just by Notre Dame Cathedral. After heading in the wrong direction (because I thought I spotted the cathedral, but actually it was another church - this time Beth was right about which direction to go!) we made it to that most famous Paris churches, courtesy of Quasimodo. Earlier in the day I learned that it was Victor Hugo’s novel “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” that saved the Cathedral from falling into disrepair. Apparently the Parisians in the 18th and early 19th centuries didn’t like the building because it was built in the Gothic style, and thus looked too old, or unfashionable. I guess the Parisians have been concerned about fashion and looking good for a long time. After Victor Hugo’s novel came out, people flocked to Notre Dame to see the hunchback, or find Esmeralda. Then the Parisians decided it would be a worthwhile venture to restore the cathedral and keep it in good repair.

There was no line, and no fee, so Beth and I were able to walk right in. Right away I heard singing throughout the Cathedral. I thought perhaps they were rehearsing for the music concert that was being held there later that evening, but after a few moments I realized that a worship service was taking place. The middle section of the cathedral was roped off, and people could not enter there unless they were intending to go to Mass. Meanwhile all around the perimeter of the cathedral people were walking, talking, taking pictures and so forth (in spite of the signs in multiple languages requesting silence).

Beth and I walked slowly around the perimeter as well, and even stopped to light a candle and put it in one of the many prayer stations around the cathedral. Up near the altar we could smell the incense and watch the priest presiding. I never saw where the cantor was, but it was a woman with a pretty voice.

The whole scenario was surreal, people posing for pictures by some element inside the cathedral while a few metres away Mass was taking place… each seemingly oblivious to the other. Beth thought that those who worshipped there regularly were probably used to it, but I couldn’t imagine trying to preside at a worship service in such conditions. It was a bonus being able to hear the organ play (as well as the woman canting) as we walked about the inside of the cathedral. I ended up purchasing a CD there (one of Bach played on the organ of Notre Dame)… my first CD purchase over here (I’m a little surprised it has taken so long for that to happen).

Once outside we walked down a street near by to find something to eat. I thought quiche in Paris sounded good, Beth was looking for crepes. We found a little sidewalk café/bar that had both items on the menu. Beth started with salad that (to my eyes) was huge. It had lettuce, green beans, corn, goat cheese, tomatoes, and probably other stuff as well. My quiche came with salad and fries (or frites as they are called over here). Both dishes were great, but very filling, so we had no room for crepes when we were finished!

We did a little more walking around, souvenir hunting, and eventually found a place that made crepes right beside Notre Dame. Beth had a Nutella and Banana crepe, I had a Lemon and Sugar one. Were they ever great! I managed to get a recording of the bells of Notre Dame as we enjoyed our crepes, then it was back to the Metro and the hotel. On our way, walking over a bridge spanning the River Seine, we spotted a film crew setting up cameras and lights for some kind of shot. We didn’t stick around long enough to see if we recognized anyone, but maybe one day I will be watching a film and say “Hey, we were there, we saw that film crew.”

The Metro in Paris was easy to use, once we figured it out, and quite reasonably priced - less than $2 Canadian for each of us. We made our way back to our hotel with no trouble, and quite quickly. Apparently the London Tube (subway) workers just went on strike today, so getting around in London might be a bit more challenging. We’ll find out soon enough, for our train has already been through the Chunnel and we are now approaching London. This really is a cool train ride to be on.