Tuesday 1/20: “Get me gunpowder, and all the empty champagne bottles you can find!”*

Long but easy day flying. PDX to Minneapolis was packed, cramped and miserable, but a quick jaunt to a faraway gate landed me in a spacious seat to Amsterdam. A trashy novel, plenty of snacks and a good movie (The Duchess…Ralph Fiennes in a supporting role with a large dose of his usual grimness but this time with some beautifully underplayed humor) made short work of a ten-hour flight. 

Three long hours in a cold Amsterdam airport, where the sun didn’t rise until after 9, then a short hop (and my first nap) through the clouds to a chilly but blue Marseille. Customs was nonexistent, and 15 minutes after landing we were in b & b’s awaiting car getting lost (not) navigating the roundabouts through Marseille. But an hour later we tucked into moules frites and an excellent Bandol Rose in, where else? Bandol, about 20 minutes from “our town”. (Here’s where, if my camera cable was working, I’d insert the photo either of my moule covered in an odd, floury gunk, or the Boules players on the waterfront court outside our heated pavilion window. The actual scene was more magical than my bad photos, so hooray for my tech incompetence.) As I downed my third glass of wine I realized, “hey! my heart’s back in rhythm for the first time in 3 days!” 

There seems to be a to-do all over tv over some new leader of the free world. B2′s been flipping between BBC and CNN for the past few hours which have covered it live, moment by moment. I’m thinking bed sounds better than watching the parade, but can I sleep with such a recent vision of Cheney in that wheelchair with his black leather gloves? “Mwa ha ha ha!” echoes through my brain.

Home sweet home for the next week.

Home sweet home for the next week.


*Overheard on a western, as b1 was flipping channels.

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