Calm and Serene, Rough and Choppy

There needed to be whole days together.  There needed to be weeks and months of uninterrupted time to say all the things that needed to be said.--Ann Patchett, BEL CANTO, a novel
Santa Monica, CA
Alan and I were so excited about our forthcoming European escape.   We would be departing from LAX on the 4th of July.   We took a few photos of ourselves at Sea Colony (Alan’s pad) to show (and mark) our happiness.
I kept saying, “Only two more days.”The next day I got dressed for work and Alan said, “Only one more day!”

4th of July
It was a sunny 85 degrees in Los Angeles, a perfect day for flying out.  We were at the LAX coffee shop and I made a list of all of our forthcoming destinations (including Dallas where the plane would be stopping before we flew off to Paris).  
The other places included, Chartres, Tours, Amboise, Chambord, Amboise, Loire River, Bordeaux, Carsaconnes, Le Cite, Ceret, Balaruc-Les-Bains, San Juan Les Pins, St. Tropez, Cannes, Nice, Monaco, St. Paul de Vence, Milan, ITALY, Arona, Lake Maggiore, Stresa, The Swiss Alps, Vevey, Switzerland, Geneve and a glimpse at the Tour de France Bike Race.
10/20AM:   There is a woman dressed in a black, slinky mini-dress looking like she is ready to go out on-the-town here at LAX.  She wears long black gloves and reminds Alan and I of the wife in the terrible film that we mistakenly saw a week or so ago called THE COOK, THE THIEF, HIS WIFE and HER LOVER.   I was quite intrigued by the film title but it wasn’t the greatest (even if that actress, Helen Mirren, was remarkable). 
Yesterday I did it!   I called work at Pac Bell Directory and told them my grandfather in Barcelona, SPAIN had died (and that my mom was flying from San Francisco to Los Angeles) and that we would be flying to PARIS today to make funeral arrangements and deal with complications regarding my grandfathers’ estate.  Okay, it was a little white lie but both of my grandfathers had passed away (one in 1954 and the other in 1978).   I know both of my grandfathers would have wanted me to visit my heritage country of SPAIN, so I was fulfilling their wish.   I don’t feel bad about this unbelievable, naughty fib.   I needed a faraway escape from this job.

And so, here we are…Alan Freiman, my best-friend, and I are flying to Dallas, Texas, then Paris, France.

We will rent a car and Alan plans to drive via the French countryside and head onward to Barcelona, Spain.

Then we will go to see Paloma Sanchez-Guerra in Balaruc-Les-Bains in the South of France.   After seeing Paloma we will experience the French Riviera and perhaps Milan, Italy and Geneva, Switzerland.  We hope to also get a good view of the infamous bicycle race, The Tour de France 1990.


Back to this young gal wearing the black mini-skirt…it’s as if she were dressed to go out to some nightclub.   It’s only 10:30AM.   She really does look like a young version of the wife character in that film, THE COOK, THE THIEF, HIS WIFE and HER LOVER.  What is her story?
I am an official American Airlines Mileage AAdvantage member now.  It’s a good thing our original DELTA flight was cancelled.  I owe it to  Alan’s craftiness and ‘know how’ that he could know to arrange this alternate flight (just in case of a mix-up).  He is really an incredible ‘get things done right’ type when things have to be done at the last minute (or under-pressure).

On the way to the LAX airport Alan’s mother, Gloria, gave us a ride. Alan explained to Gloria about his real estate partners’ divorce, “You know, Art’s wife, Susan, hired Marvin Mitchelson to represent her in their divorce battle.  He’s the famous attorney who represented Joan Collins against her nationally publicized divorce from Peter Holm.” As he was speaking to his mother I was reflecting on how Alan wouldn’t give my morning ‘creative ponytail’ hair style a chance this morning.  I knew he would think I was a tad strange if I attempted a ponytail.   He immediately rejected it.I said, “You know, you’re too conservative sometimes!”I bought two boxes of chocolate covered raisinettes for our plane ride to Dallas.“We need IRON,” I explained.I have the recently published autobiographical memoir of Gilda Radner to read on the plane that is titled  “IT’S ALWAYS SOMETHING”.    It should be a good book.  And you know...'in life' it always IS something.  It is how we deal with the somethings that matter (handle it calmly and carefully). 
So far, things are going smoothly.   Alan and I just shared a small PIZZA HUT pizza and a diet coke while here at the LAX airport.  I think we will go over our itinerary in detail now.   We will need a more decent overview of what we plan to do in Europe.    Can we talk? (…to borrow a line from Joan Rivers).

Alan and I awoke this morning at 4:30AM for an early walk to watch the Santa Monica Pier Fireworks.   There were a lot of morning weird people outside.  We hit the local Boulangerie for a thermos of coffee and fresh croissants.  Yikes, our waistlines will be shot!   Happy 4thof July.  

July 4, 1990, a HOT 95 degrees in Dallas, Texas

The LAX flight to DALLAS was agonizing because we were cramped in the middle section of the plane and it felt rather claustrophobic.   The complimentary blue blankets and pillows helped a little.

Upon our arrival to DALLAS Alan wrote a postcard to his daughter, Lauren.   She is away at some campsite in Malibu, CA.   Luckily, I remembered to write her address for him.  I sent a DALLAS postcard to my mom.   I wrote:
Fourth of JulyHi Mom, It’s 5PM Dallas time, so it’s only 3PM in your California territory.  Alan and I had to sit next to ‘3’ kids from LA to DALLAS.  Luckily, they were all good kids.  I was afraid they were going to be into an age-two HOLLY ARMIJO sort of mood.  Ha-ha.…sending regards to all.   When I hit FRANCE and SPAIN I will try and find you something special.I Love You, Always, Michael J Armijo
We are having filet mignon for dinner.  That’s a nice international flight menu.  We are having fun.   It’s happening…a great escape.
Alan was quite flirtatious to the gift shop sales clerk in DALLAS.   We had a drink at the DALLAS Airport bar also.   Chuck, the bartender, made me a LUBE-JOB cocktail (a combination of Baileys and Vodka over crushed ice).  I laughed out loud when I read the name of that drink.  
July 4th or 5th DUSK, WHILE UP IN THE AIR
The wine served on the flight was a 1988 Chateau Lagrange, Produce of FRANCE, Lussac St. Emilion, a Red Bordeaux.   It was so good!   And the filet mignon meal with salmon salad was quite yummy, too.
Alan and I shared some sincere, sensitive toasts.  How relaxing life can be.  We know how to ENJOY.   While Alan and I were on the “tipsy” side and enjoying our dessert and coffee we noticed a slight thundering motion amidst the pre-heavenly clouds from our airplane window.   Suddenly, Alan moved his hands while I started to get my coffee cup and it spilled all over my American Airlines blanket!   Oh well…our tummies were filled at least.   It was a great meal (for airline food).   It is said that the meals are much better on international flights.
I hear kids.  I hear French.  I feel good. I attempted a snapshot through my window seat.   It didn’t come out too well.  It’s getting dark.
July 5, 1990, Fair and Cool, 65 Degrees PARIS, at the HOTEL SOFITEL

We made it!   Once we arrived at the ORLY Airport in PARIS all went smoothly in terms of entry.   The Budget car rental place went smoothly also.  It was a bit of a slapstick comedy once we arrived in Paris though.

Alan’s driving of a manual transmission FORD Escort (a new car by the way) was miraculous.  He did quite well.   I snapped a few photos from my passenger seat as we drove in to the city district.   Alan kept driving around, trying to figure out the street locations amidst the uncaring maniac Parisian drivers.  Alan was having a JOY RIDE…as was I.   It was similar to—if not worse than—a roller coaster ride.  

We finally found an American Express Office to exchange money at 5.35 French Francs to one US dollar.   We had to pay an additional 10 French Francs in commission.   Someone has to make some money.   We later learned a bank would exchange a dollar at 5.48 French Francs to the dollar at NO commission charge.

We found a little restaurant and ate a club sandwich and tomato salad with Riesling and Bordeaux glasses of wine.   We were so tired and jet-lagged.   Alan said, “This hustle and bustle reminds me of New York.”

By now I was a tad fearful of getting into the rental car again.   “I’m putting my life into your hands,” I said.Alan smirked, and then smiled at me.
In this particular photo where I am wearing my white pants and my short-sleeved yellow shirt I came up with an idea.  I had been carrying this bottle of wine all day (as we planned to have it with dinner).   It's much cheaper to do that versus order from an expensive wine list.   This wine would have cost a fortune on the wine list.  I saw this motorcycle and thought I'd look good on the bike while holding the bottle of wine.   Well, as soon as I lifted my leg over the bike my white pants were torn in a split up my ass.  I must have gained a pound or two from the rich French sauces (and we've barely got started).   Oh jeez...I had to walk all over town with torn jeans revealing my ass (good thing I was wearing white underwear).   It wasn't funny when it happened--but now we can laugh off the memory.

We finally found the HOTEL SOFITEL.  How?  Hell if I know.  I’d call it pure luck.  It all happened so fast, yet, so fun an adventure.   It’s a good thing I can read the street signs.

We immediately checked-in and slept for five hours.  Now we are showering and cleaning-up for our first Paris evening on-the-town.I remarked, “You know, the car key looks so strange.”

We haven’t attempted to figure out how to make a phone call yet.   The staff at the HOTEL SOFITEL is pretty nice though.  

We have seen so many sights in just that one ride around town.   We saw the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triumph, and The Opera.   We even attempted a little French on neighboring car drivers to help us get to Hotel Sofitel.  Alan thinks he knows French.  He speaks and knows French like I know Chinese.   Well, he’s not that bad (it's just that his accent needs work)…but we’re definitely in a foreign country!

I was so ready for my shower.  I needed a freshened-up feeling.  I am so glad I had that deep sleep.  My eyes felt so tired when we first arrived.

We bought maps at a unique bookstore.   Barcelona, Spain looks like hours and hours away.  We shall attempt it.  What fun!  I am loving this.
July 6, 1990, Outside of the HOTEL SOFITEL, 10:45AM
I just telephoned Paloma in Sete, France.   She sounded great.  I cannot wait to see her.  Alan and I are off to find new postcards now.
Last night we experienced LE BOCCADOR Restaurant.   The filet mignonette was what one would die for.  The sauce on the French fries was quite irresistible.
We attempted another driving excursion this morning for coffee.  It was fun but I felt naked without my camera.  I had left it in my suitcase.   
The Beaujolais Villages wine was so good with the meal last night.  We intend to return home with a few bottles.  Edna Valley wine is history in our books now that we’ve had French wines.  French wines are “in”.  Edna Valley wines are “out”. 
We hit a cool, avant-garde disco last night.  I saw a beautiful redhead.  She looked like a high-fashion model (probably American).  Ha-ha.
It is fun reviewing this Paris map and having Alan drive while I dictate.  It really is a maze in and around PARIS.  I love it.  So many gorgeous looking eyes on people…but a lot of them have ugly faces (or maybe most of them do). 
July 7, 1990, Dawn. The temperature is cool.  I am in bed and it is six o’clock in the morning at HOTEL SOFITEL.  Let me write and reminisce on the events of yesterday…After our coffee (and coffee au lait) yesterday we returned to the hotel with the intent of going to the gym.   We learned that the gym is private but hotel guests may use the pool and sauna (strange rules).  We gathered a couple of room towels and an “OK PASS” from the Hotel Front Desk and enjoyed a morning sauna.

We planned a sketchy itinerary:   See the Louvre Museum; See key shopping places; See other hotels that might be worth looking at; Buy postcards and make reservations for dinner.We did see The Louvre, bought postcards and made dinner reservations.    We didn’t do any real shopping but I did take plenty of photos.  We had lunch in the INVALIDES area.  We had a great tomato with delicious cheese and a fresh baguette.  We walked more via the Eiffel Tower, Invalides and on to The Louvre.  Alan finally saw the MONA LISA.   I had already seen it the time that Paloma took me in 1985.Our feet were aching from all of the walking.  It took us from 8pm-9pm (one full hour) to get back to the hotel in our rental car.  We didn’t know about using the Peripherique short-cut yet.  I wasn’t the greatest participant in getting us home on time.  I became impatient.  It helped that I was taking pictures.  I could feel Alan’s frustration, so I helped to navigate.  I guided him via our well invested detailed Paris map that we had purchased.Alan wrote a few postcards and I addressed sixty of them (including placing stamps on all of them) once we finally arrived at the hotel.  We showered and felt refreshed and got groomed.  As we walked out of our HOTEL SOFITEL building an older gentleman mistook Alan (and perhaps me) for Italians.  He was speaking fluent Italian to the both of us.  When I bought my new postcards from the cashier today at the local TABAC, the cashier asked, “Italiano?”  Ha-haI said, “No, Americano, de Espana.” We made all of the right moves with the help of our map directions without any errors for the first time.   Miracles do happen.   We hit our dinner place a bit after 10PM.  I had an opening butter lettuce dinner salad.  Alan shared his bread and salmon.  It was simply delicious.   The rack of lamb was ‘just ok’ but well presented with a potato pancake of sorts and spinach and a toasted square cheese pizza.  The lemon soufflé was “yummers” (as Armida Mata, my PBD Los Angeles co-worker would say, she loves that word: "yummers").  The wine was outstanding, too.   The waiter snapped a photo of us as we toasted with our espresso cups.   I took a photo of an abstract painting that I liked in the restaurant (it looked like an aerial view of a pack of bicyclists).   Alan simply thought it looked like an airplane.  I also shot a picture of Alan on top of the hood of a little red car.   It was the type of car we were originally going to rent.   We discovered a little “Doctor Garcon” entrance and enjoyed the scene.  I flashed a photo of the entry way as a memory.

We decided to tour a seedier area known as PIGALLE.   I thought, perhaps, I could photograph a prostitute or two standing on a street corner.   We found none in this area but it was definitely a sex-ridden, exploited area.   We decided to check out another scene.   This time it was a nightclub on Saint Denis Street.   We were driving about and finally found the street.   We realized right away that it was just as seedy as the PIGALLE area.  As we made the right turn on to St. Denis Street our first negative event happened.I noticed two prostitutes (one blond and one brunette).  I decided to take a snapshot of them.  Alan saw them, too.  He volunteered to take the picture because they were on his side of the car and could shoot better from his angle.  “FLASH!”MISTAKE!The two “hoo hah” girls made a fast fun for our car, screaming and yelling curse words.  They must’ve been curse words because it didn’t sound like “Avoir une belle nuit”.  I immediately attempted to put our windows up in our car.   The fear and tension mounted.  It all happened so fast.  It was too late.   Alan’s window didn’t go up in time and even if it did I’m sure our car would have been picked up manually with what had become a swarm or harem of what seemed like a dozen different prostitutes, yelling, “Le Film, Le Film!”

One or two of the girls had grabbed Alan by the neck!   They continued screaming in French “pissed-off” foul language talk.  It ended with my pulling out my film from my camera and handing it over to them.   Their last action by one of the girls was a swift punch to Alan’s mouth!   We were literally mobbed by what seemed like a dozen (maybe even twenty) French prostitutes.   We were trapped amidst this narrow street with immobile cars in front of us; whereby, we couldn’t drive away.  It was unreal.  It was a 'scary exciting'…like a movie.   I'd say it was literally a true movie scene of terror as it was happening.   We made the first available right turn as Alan’s lip was bleeding.  I was in utter shock.   I felt responsible because I wanted the prostitute photo (not realizing the impact it would have on those nasty, dirty sluts!). 
How Alan managed it all I will never know.  It was a first.  He got us home to our Hotel Sofitel without one map instruction after that frightening incident.   Like I mentioned before, Alan can accomplish miracles under stress.  He got us back to the hotel in minutes without any map instruction.  I can’t explain in enough words what a shaky, terrifying experience it was at the time.   We did support one another.   We ultimately decided that we would never allow this incident to destroy our European stay.   It didn’t.One cannot say we don’t vie for excitement.

Oh well, morning arrived and it was time for me to write sixty more postcards.  By 8:35AM I was done.   Wow…it really is hard work to finish-up postcards.Alan and I are now ready for a new day.  We’re wearing shorts for a morning and afternoon day of shopping and bites to eat.  We munched on croissants by day…tomatoes and salmon by midday.  I hoped.  I believed.   All would go well from this point onward.
My 7-7-90 Postcard to mom: Mom,I’ll have some great photos and stories to tell.  UNREAL!  Only a couple of days here in Paris and we’ve done so much!   Next…Barcelona, SPAIN via a drive through the Chateau country of Paris, then to Paloma’s place and the French Riviera and then some…Love You,  Michael J Armijo
July 8, 1990, Cloudy with sun, at a PARIS gas station called ESSO.
We went to Saint Michel yesterday for coffee and croissants.  We also browsed in a couple of men’s boutiques and discovered the Jewish area of Paris.  We found a great men’s store and bought beautiful Italian tailored suits.We also hit the fabulous department store known as GALLERIES LAFAYETTE.  It was like Christmastime.  There were mobs of people.  One floor had nothing but women’s bathing suits.  Alan bought Susan a gorgeous, turquoise colored one.   Why he did that is beyond me.  I guess it was a kindness offering in hopes of a smooth divorce proceeding.   It was a “magnifique” bathing suit. Our feet were tired from walking all over the department store.  We had no luck in finding a Tour de France t-shirt.  I bought a French Connection white dress shirt for 150 Francs to go with my suit.  We plan to wear our suits in Monte Carlo.  We’ll look like high rollers (even if we are NOT).  The dollar is now equivalent to 5.40 French Francs.

After the GALLERIES LAFAYETTE shopping Alan and I found his favorite street known as St. Dominique. I said, “Well, I know your second favorite street is St. Denis.”I couldn’t resist saying it after the prostitute mob experience.  Ha-ha.  We bought a fresh tomato at one produce store.   It looked too good to pass up.  We bought cheese at another shop; smoked salmon at another and VITTEL bottled water at another.   I was so tired that I sat at the outside of a Boulangerie as Alan searched for the VITTEL.
I had a look of fear and bewilderment when a French man came up to me and said ‘God knows what’.   I requested a Caffe Au Lait just to get him away from me.   The combination of French baguette with smoked salmon, cheese, tomato and VITTEL water was so great.   I must admit that Alan is so creative with the spur of the moment picnic ideas.  He’s great to be doing all of the driving also.
July 8, 1990 …while on the Peripherique Highway

We are no heading towards PORT D’ORLEANS via the A10 Freeway to the Chateau French countryside.After our picnic yesterday we returned to the HOTEL SOFITEL and took a nap.   We woke at 10PM and it was still daylight!  We were seriously unsure if it was morning or still the same night.  That was funny.The Jewish son of the Jewish father who owned the nifty Jewish Men’s store that sold us the suits recommended a restaurant called LE TELEGRAPH.   It’s a reformed post-office that has been turned into a restaurant.  Alan made a reservation there for 10:30PM.   People eat dinner very late in Paris.   Of course it doesn’t get dark until about that time anyway during the summer months.  I guess it seems fitting and appropriate.   After we awoke from the long nap we got ready for the outing to LE TELEGRAPH.   Thanks to my navigating directions via the map we arrived in a timely fashion.   It was a very nouveau kind of place.  I liked the trendy beauty of it compared to the I CUGINI place in Santa Monica.   We saw some really classy, good-looking women there.    The dinner was simply “magnifique” (I like that word).   The fresh fish and the warm goat cheese salad were mouth-watering.  I had the white fish entrée while Alan chose the steak.

We found Sebastapool Street and walked over to St. Denis Street again!  Yikes!   A few black prostitutes pranced around but other sections of the area were nice with outdoor shops and cafes.  I recalled being there back in 1985.   We also hit the St. Michel area again and found a JAZZ club with great atmosphere.  The stairs led down to a JAZZ performance.  The sound seemed to have a likeness to the "SOLEA" tune by Miles Davis (from his SKETCHES OF SPAIN album) which engrossed me into another world.  It was like an entrance to a private stone cave.  The cave was used in the old days for making and preserving wine.   We didn’t stay there for too long as it was time to get rest.   We needed sleep for the driving we planned on for the next day.
July 8, 1990, CloudyAmboise, France in Chateau Country at LE CHOISEUL

8:25PM:   Alan and I ended up driving via PARIS to LE CHARTRES to TOURS and then found this quaint and beautiful castle known as LE CHOISEUL.  
What a great place to stay!  We have some good photos.  It was a fun-filled driving day.   We drove to a giant castle called CHAMBORD.   I took photos and we toured the castle.  
We had coffee at a place called the St. Michel Restaurant.   Alan called his step-dad, Jack (Israel) Cohen and spoke to him using 5 French Francs until he was cut-off.   I called my mom and the same thing happened.  You don’t get a very long connection with 5 French Francs.


7-8-90 Mom, It’s 6:45PM.  I just called you at this Chateau.   This is the historic view of the area.  You can see the CHAMBORD CASTLE.  I didn’t send a current picture of the castle because I liked this one better.  I hope you do, too.  It gets dark here at 10PM.  Later, Michael
We checked out the Touraine Cave to taste some wine.  I forgot how those caves have to maintain such cool temperatures.   It provided visions from yesteryear of the old Napa-Sonoma Valley wine tasting days.

The lush greenery of our scenic French Countryside driving is really beautiful and mesmerizing. 

Poor Alan still has a bruised lip from those cold-hearted prostitutes.  I keep saying, “It will heal in due time.”I am sure he never imagined a sleazy prostitute would be socking him in the mouth during this trip.

Right now I am in our one night stay room in Amboise, France overlooking the Loire River.  I am listening to a cassette tape of French music that Paloma made for me.   Alan is bathing.   We plan to eat in the hotel Relais and Chateau restaurant.  It should be good.  After the meal Alan took a photo of me in front of the Hotel.  I borrowed a parked moped to sit on for the pose.
I kept thinking of the $800 black leather jacket I saw in PARIS at GALLERIES LAFAYETTE.  I also liked the black dress shoes I saw in the small downtown area of Amboise.   The small downtown is so quaint with the local shops and all.   We had enjoyed some Vanvaray White wine, bread and cheese at a little café there today.   We are strictly making use of the word “enjoy” now.Oh yes, we lacked some joy when Alan thought I was being a ‘smart ass’ as I made negative comments about his choices of picture taking.   He has taken some good ones.  I just don’t think I give him enough credit.  I do!  Well, if I don’t at times it must because I am feeling restless.I have decided to send mom postcards of everywhere that we go.   She’s my key focus in the USA.  I miss her.  I know she is lonely now that dad has gone to heaven.  I must buy her something special in SPAIN.

7-8-90 Mom,  this was a restaurant that turned into a post-office.   It is a restaurant now once again.  We ate here last night.   The wine was delicious.  We are driving through France now towards Barcelona, Spain tomorrow.   Love You, Michael
Leonardo de Vinci’s last three years of his life were spent in a beautiful home in Amboise, France.  The home was given to him by the French Sovereign.  He wasn’t only a painter but a sculptor, architect, physicist, engineer and mathematician.   He designed the seven level spiral staircase at the CHAMBORD CASTLE that Alan and I visited today.
7-8-90Mom, We left PARIS at 9:30AM and this was our first stop:  a Cathedral that is really old.  A lot of French people visit this place.  They truly appreciate their history.  The lush green trees in the French Countryside are unbelievable.  I'm taking a lot of pictures.  Love, Michael

July 9, 1990Overcast, Muggy with fruit flies flying about (Amboise, France in the room at LE CHOISEL)

8:35AM:   Last night I said to Alan, “We should have brought a tape recorder to tape significant audio during this trip.”I was thinking specifically of recording a) the sirens in Paris  b) the man who sounded like the GODFATHER at Le Petit Auberge Restaurant in Paris and c) the footsteps of the waiter, waitress and hostess of the LE CHOISEL Restaurant last night (their footsteps sounded like Nazi soldiers marching).  It was rather frightening.
9:30AM:Alan is getting gas for the car (Sans Plomb at TOTAL).   We are at what seems to be the French version of an AM-PM Mini-Mart.   Alan is inside the mart getting snacks and goodies for the road.  I am analyzing this Michelin map and looking at the major cities that we will pass on our journey to SPAIN (that is exactly 844 kilometers from here).   I jotted down the cities as I plan to note the arrival times once we get to each place: Tours….arrival time 9:45AMChatellerault…..10:15AMPoitiers……10:25AMNiort…..10:52AMRochefort…11:12AMSaintes…..11:25AMCognac….11:15AMBordeaux….12:20PM (leave at 2:20PM)
7-9-90Hi Mom, Alan and I have been driving since 9:45AM.   We hit this big town for lunch known as Bordeaux.  It’s a lot different than PARIS.   The people are better looking.  It must be because we are closer to Spain.  The weather is nicer too.  It’s HOT today. I am at a restaurant called DOMINQUE.   After we eat we will hit the road for Barcelona.  It doesn’t get dark until 10PM, so we have plenty of daylight driving.   Love, Michael
Agen….3:05PM Montauban…3:30PMToulouse....3:50PM
7-9-90Hi Mom, Right now it is 5AM where you are.  We just finished another snack at a fast-food McDonalds-like place called QUICK.   I haven’t even seen Paloma yet.  Once we leave Barcelona, Spain we will return to Southern France to visit her.  We will then continue on to the French Riviera to Nice, Monaco, St. Tropez and the Monte Carlo area.   I just found my other pen…Later, Michael
Carcassone….4:40PM
7-9-90, 6:45PMHi Mom,We just left from this French tourist attraction area called LE CITE.  I picked up this card for you while we were there.   I telephoned Paloma from a telephone booth.   She knows we are on our way to SPAIN.   We will be visiting her in 3 to 4 days.   We are both tired.  I think Alan is more tired because he is doing all of the driving.  You know I don’t drive a ‘stick shift’.  Love You, Michael
Perpignan…..7:30PM, depart for CERET, France….then we will continue on via Le Boulou, La Jonquera, Figueres, Gerona, Fogars de Tordera, Tordera, Malgrad de Mar, Calella, Canet de Mar, Arenys de Mar, Mataro, Badalona, and finally to BARCELONA, Spain.
After our dinner at the LE CHOISEL and the stuffy atmosphere with the disturbing Nazi footsteps we encountered it was time for a walk.   We ventured over to LE SPORTS CAFÉ.  There was a German-shepherd dog lying there.   For some reason I kept seeing a lot of German-shepherd dogs all over Europe.  
Our dinner did improve as time went on though.  Perhaps we were simply feeling the effects from the wine.   We hated our appetizers.  I had a vegetable mousse.  Alan chose duck (bacon style) with slices of melon.  Who would ever hear of such a dish?   It was funny listening to Alan mock the pub-type London fellow at LE SPORTS CAFÉ.   I snapped Alan in front of the PERRIER vending machine and then we took a walk along the Loire River.   It was such a beautiful night.   Alan was right.  The river depicted life.  It was “calm and serene” on one side and“rough and choppy” on the other side.   Life is exactly like this.   Savor the 'calm and serene' moments.  Don't stress out when it's "rough and choppy" as it will pass in due time.

Alan and I are now having fun as we predict time frames for each of the forthcoming cities that we are destined to see.   What a great team we make during our travels.
“Your voice.  WOW, I was undone,” he said.  UNDONE.  He had a collection of unusual adjectives like that.  DEVOTED was another.  And COMMITTED.  He used that adjective all the time.  Never before had he ever met a man who was comfortable with that particular adjective.--Charles Baxter,
THERE’S SOMETHING I WANT YOU TO DO