What's Wrong with This Picture?

Today is the anniversary of the devastating Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, when we remember and pray for all of the souls who lost their lives that fateful day while serving this great country of ours. Normally I would do a post dedictated entirely to that event, and perhaps I should.

I can't seem to stop talking about my trip, though. Did you know I just came back from a trip to Nice? Have I told you that yet? Well, I did! And it was the most amazing experience! Before this trip, the only places I'd ever been outside the borders of the U.S. were Cancun (where we went for our honeymoon in the summer of 1982, about a year and a half after we got married), Bermuda (which we visited in 1991 with our four oldest boys, when my husband's brother and his family were stationed there at the Naval base), and Canada (which is so close to where I grew up that it never really seemed like a foreign country). Even though my husband's job has been taking him to cities all over Europe for the past fifteen years, I had never been across the Atlantic Ocean before I accompanied him on this awesome four-day trip to the Cote d'Azur. I can't stop thinking about all of the beautiful scenery I saw and how different things are over there than they are here.

Although, there was one hauntingly familiar, uber-American (and completely incongruous!) thing that kept popping up during my European holiday. Look closely, and see if you can find what's wrong with this picture taken on the streets of Nice:

Now see if you can find it here, in Monaco--that idyllic little thoroughly European principality:

Remember that song on "Sesame Street," the one that went something like "one of these things is not like the others, one of these things just doesn't belong"? Can you see something in these pictures that doesn't belong?

What is the deal with the golden arches popping up all over southern France?!

Okay, now I better come clean: I did order a coffee at a McDonald's in Nice on Sunday morning. I doubt Grace Kelly ever did that. But before you judge me, let me explain that it was a cafe au lait and tasted nothing like any coffee you would get in a Mickey D's over here. And I promise you, after that one slip I immersed myself in local culture and got my caffeine fixes strictly from little French establishments.

More on Our Trip

I'm still on a high this morning after my first trip to Europe with my husband. On the way back home, when we were on the JFK-to-Boston shuttle, my husband ran into another pilot he knows; and when this guy found out I'd gone to Nice, he said he thought that was the nicest of all their airline's European destinations. I've never been anywhere else, so I have nothing with which to compare it; but I do know that I loved Nice SO much. And I can attest to the fact that the area in which it is located--on the coast of southern France, right by the sea--is just indescribably beautiful. I am a huge fan of the Cote d'Azur, let me tell you. I would go there again (and I might, if the opportunity ever arises).

And if we ever get back to Monaco, my husband and I decided we might look into buying this sweet yacht called "Little Fish." It's bigger than our house. It's pretty nice, n'est pas? Maybe we'll buy two of them.

My flight home was just as fantastic as my flight over. Again, I was up in business class, getting the royal treatment the whole way. (It seems like maybe the flight attendants give special attention to the captain's wife when she's on board--and were they ever nice to me!) This time, when they offered all of us lucky folks up front a flute of champagne while we were still on the ground, I said, "Sure, why not?!" As I sipped my champagne, I gazed out the window at the amazing scenery--which was spectacular even when viewed from the runway at the airport--and was overcome with a feeling of sadness that our little mini-second honeymoon in Nice was coming to an end. But soon after take-off, fortunately, I was able to forget my tristesse and drown my sorrows in business class cuisine! For starters, the appetizer was a salmon and asparagus creation, and that was followed by a green salad. For my main course, I chose chicken with baked pumpkin (that was something new for me, and it was scrumptious). To top it all off, I had a chocolate tart, and when the flight attendant asked if I'd like to add some whipped cream and chocolate sauce to a dessert that was probably already about 600 calories, I again said, "Sure, why not?!"

After dinner, I reclined my seat and snuggled in for the duration, with two pillows this time (the seat beside me was empty, so I nabbed an extra one), and turned on my little T.V. to watch a lightweight romantic comedy called Monte Carlo. The main reason I wanted to watch it, of course, was because it was shot on location, and I wanted to be able to see things I've seen now with my own eyes and say "I've been there!" I can't tell you how many times my husband has said those words when we've watched films set in Europe! I dozed through most of this movie on the first run-through. But after about two hours of sleeping off and on, I was up for the rest of the flight, and watched not only Monte Carlo, but also Mr. Popper's Penguins (a Jim Carrey movie that won't win any Academy Awards, but was cute and amusing). In Monte Carlo, the three main characters stay at the Hotel de Paris, pictured here. And I saw this!

The flight home was about nine hours long--two hours longer than the flight over, because we were flying into a headwind--and after watching the two movies, I spent the rest of the time mostly reading. At one point, a flight attendant came around offering warmed chocolate-chocolate chip cookies, and I said, "I don't mind if I do!" About an hour and a half before landing, another light meal was served. This time, I had a cold Salade Nicoise, which was composed of shrimp, a hardboiled egg, thinly sliced potatoes, green beans, olives, and tomatoes, with a chocolate truffle candy for dessert...and then, as if the piece of candy wasn't enough, I accepted the offer of another warmed chocolate-chocolate chip cookie. I could really get used to eating like this! But now I have to go on a diet.

Anyway, I don't mean to go on and on, but this trip was such a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me. My joie de vivre is through the roof! I'm not finished talking about it yet...by the end of the week, I may have you all bored to tears. But before I lose you, take a look at these pictures from our Sunday in Monaco.

Dimanche en Monaco

Yesterday, after going to 9:00 a.m. Mass at a church called Notre Dame (which is within spitting distance of our hotel in Nice), I had some cafe au lait and my husband had some chocolat chaud--and I must admit, sheepishly, that we got these at a nearby McDonald's--and then went back to our room and finished the half of a baguette that was left over from our little late night snack on the balcony last night. Afterwards, we walked over to the train station and took a 25-minute ride, along the magnificent Cote d'Azur...to MONACO! 

My husband has been an airline pilot for almost 24 years and has been flying internationally for 15; he has been to many European cities, and has probably been to Nice already about a dozen times. But when he was there the other times, he never went to Monaco. So even though my guy is a longtime world traveler and this is my first trip overseas, this is one place that we got to experience together for the very first time. When we strolled around Monte Carlo, it was as new and awe-inspiring to him as it was to me. I have always been fascinated by Grace Kelly/Princess Grace and have read a lot about her, so I was thrilled to be able to visit the little principality that she called home. And it was like something out of a storybook--too beautiful to be real--so it didn't disappoint. It was a very special day.

I can't possibly do our day in Monaco (and then last night in Nice, when we sat down by the beach--on the French Riviera!--sipping cold cans of Heineken and talking) justice in the time I have this morning. We need to get down to the lobby in a bit and meet up with the rest of my husband's crew. But when I get back home and have more time, I'll do another post or two about the trip and show you lots of pictures.

Let me just say this, though: Monte Carlo is the most beautiful and exotic city. It's like something out of a dream, this beautiful city built up high on hills overlooking the Mediterranen. It's an awesome place to visit, but I think you have to be incredibly rich to live there. My husband and I saw yachts parked in the marina that were so enormous, they looked like they needed their own zip codes. We had drinks in a cafe in the square by the Monte Carlo Casino and the Hotel de Paris (two of the most ornate and incredible buildings I've ever seen!), and for one beer and one cafe au lait, we had to pay 19e before the tip. That made the prices we were paying for things in Nice seem like nothing! But I'm sure most of the beautiful people who typically frequent that cafe can afford it. I saw more women wearing furs in that square than I've ever seen in one place in my life.

Everything about yesterday--and the day before, too--has been idyllic. This trip came up all of a sudden, when another pilot wanted to swap trips with my husband. We didn't even have a chance to make any plans ahead of time, and yet we did so much and everything has been so wonderful. Even the weather has been amazing. It's December, and Nice and Monte Carlo have their Christmas markets all set up; but the sun has been shining and it's been warm enough over here to go about in a sweater or light coat (and my husband even spent part of the day yesterday in short sleeves, without any jacket at all). I could go on and on...and on. Let me just wrap this up by saying that this has been the most fantastic trip, and our dimanche en Monaco was a Sunday I'll never forget.

Les Touristes

Les touristes aiment marcher. Ils admirent tout ce qu'ils voient. Ils prennet beaucoup de photographies.

Okay, I was just showing off there, acting like I'm Miss Fluent and walking around Nice throwing out French words left and right. Just the opposite is true. I've been so shy about using even the simplest French mots that when someone says bonjour to me, I come back with a lame American "hi." I've been saying "thank you" when I want to say merci. My plan was to have all this fun trying to parle francaise--at the very least to use some basic French phrases--and I keep totally losing my nerve. My husband has been Monsieur francaise compared to me. So when we touristes go out and about again today, I'm determined to get over my shyness.

While I haven't been speaking the language, those French sentences above are true, at least when it comes to my husband and me: tourists like to walk; they admire all that they see; and they take many pictures. We spent about six hours walking all around Nice yesterday, and it was magnifique! We went all over the city and saw so many amazing things: beautiful churches, "old town," hundreds of quaint shops and restaurants (where people were sitting outside at little tables, dining al fresco in the unseasonably warm December temperatures), brasseries, boulangeries, boucheries (bistros, bakeries, butcher shops), cafes. We even saw an Irish pub, if you can believe it. Not to mention Subway and McDonald's. Don't worry, though; we did not get Big Macs for lunch. We stopped at a cafe and had drinks (cafe au lait for me, une biere for him). We shopped for beautiful scented soaps from Provence. We went over to the boardwalk by the Riviera. After hours of sightseeing, we had a nice dinner, sort of al fresco (tables were set up outside the restaurant, but there was a plastic enclosure around them to keep out the nighttime cold); we both enjoyed our poulet et frites (chicken and French fries), and then we headed back to our hotel with a bag of goodies we'd bought at a Monoprix grocery store. We sat out on our balcony, with Nice lit up all around us, and shared a bottle of wine, a baguette of French bread, and some fromage, jambon, and chocolats (cheese, ham, and I don't think I need to translate that last one, which is, of course, one of the most essential food items on earth). It was an absolutely perfect day.

Here are some pictures from Day One in Nice. Note that at the boucheries here, the bacon they sell doesn't look anything like the kind we see in our American grocery stores. (Yikes!) Also, I was amused by the lady hanging her wet clothes out to dry, with people walking along the narrow cobblestone street right underneath her window! And the interior of the Catholic church we visited yesterday was so beautiful, it actually made me cry. It was dusky when I took the pictures of the Cote d'Azur, but hopefully I'll be able to get better ones today...in Monaco!

A Nice Place to Visit, N'est Pas?

Well, my husband and I are all checked into our hotel room in Nice. I finally did it: I flew on a plane that my husband--oh captain, my captain!--was piloting. I was very proud! I flew to Europe and I got my passport stamped for the first time. (The stamp included the words "Cote d'Azur," which made me realize that I misspelled that phrase in my post on Nov. 30--there's no "e" on the end.)

The flight last night was awesome! The only problem is that I think it spoiled me for life: I don't know if I'll ever be able to ride in coach again! The seats up in front were huge and cushy, and they reclined. I had a regular-sized pillow, not one of those tiny ones they give you in the back, and it was a great squishin' pillow to boot (which is important to me). The blanket was way cozier than those thin fleece ones they give you in coach, too. And I had so much space around me up where the beautiful people sit; I could have been 6'4", and I would have had leg room to spare

No sooner had I taken my seat and set up my little "nest," when a flight attendant came around with flutes of champagne. And then she came around again a little while later--the champagne was flowing like wine. I declined (I didn't want to start out my big European adventure with a headache), but I had a coffee in my hand, in a real porcelain mug, before take-off. Oh yes, and a bowl of warmed mixed nuts--you know, just a little something to hold me over until the meal service.

When we were at cruising altitude, the wine was flowing like wine (I declined again and stuck with my old pal, coffee, but flight attendants were walking around pouring refills of vino all over business class). Soon, it was dinner time. There were two hors d'oeuvres to choose from for the first course, and I went with crab salad and melon (delectable!). Then there was a green salad course. And finally, the main course. There were three choices for the entree: fish, pasta, or beef. I chose filet mignon with risotto and broccoli, and it was delicious. When the dessert cart came around, I didn't have much room left, and I probably should have let it pass me by. But I'd made the decision to enjoy all the freebies I could...and they had ice cream with chocolate sauce...and you know that no matter how full you are, you can always manage to fit ice cream. So I had a sundae, and I wasn't the least bit sorry I did.

After dinner, I watched two movies on my little personal T.V. screen: a Steve Carrell movie called (I think) Stupid, Crazy Love, and a Tom Hanks movie called Larry Crowne. Neither one was anything to write home about, but they helped to pass the time. I also watched an episode of a T.V. show called "Up All Night," which was funny. I couldn't sleep at all. Everyone around me, it seemed, had sleep masks on and were out cold under their blankets; but I was just too excited. Periodically, I would watch our trip's progress on my little screen. Here's what it looked like when we were out in the middle of the Atlantic:

Before we landed, I had a nice light breakfast of fruit, yogurt and granola (coffee, too, of course!). I would have had the cheese and mushroom omelette, but after my enormous dinner, I didn't think I could manage it! The adrenalin is still pumping, I guess, My husband just got in bed to get a little shut-eye, and here I am blogging. I just looked at the clock, and it's 10:45 a.m. in Nice--but to my body, it's 4:45 a.m., and I didn't sleep a wink all night. So I'm going to sign off now and force myself to nap. But before I do, I just wanted to show you a picture I took from the balcony of our hotel room right after we arrived:

Doesn't Nice look nice? And very European (how odd)! I can't wait to go out and do a little sightseeing later on! I'm sure I'll be posting more pictures tomorrow.

It's Bon Voyage!

Today's the day! In a few hours, we head to NYC and from there, to Nice, France. And I'm looking forward to a real bon voyage. I'm not kidding. I may be a white knuckle flyer, but I really AM looking forward to this trip, and I'm sure it WILL be a good one. I'm nervous about the flight, but so far have not found any reason to weasle out of it. The flights to Nice and back still have about a gazillion open seats on them, and there's nothing I have to do back here that's so important it can't wait until four days from now. So. I guess I'm now the jet-setter I never had any desire to become. But who knows? I may get hooked on flying and start accompanying my husband on his trips all the time--stranger things have happened, I suppose.

I'm trying to think only of the positive aspects of the trip: how beautiful Nice is (my husband has been there before and says I'll love it); how lucky I am to be able to make a trip like this, without spending a penny on airfare or hotels; how proud I'm going to be, sitting in the back knowing that MY HUSBAND IS FLYING THE PLANE!; and how much fun I'm going to have (fun being a relative term) if I get to sit up in business class, which it looks like I'm going to be able to do. My #2 son was here last night, having his belated Thanksgiving dinner with us, and he was regaling me with stories about sitting up front on his trip to Rome a couple of summers ago. In business class on overseas flights, you have a great big reclining chair that's practically a bed, and a personal television set right in front of you--with a list of movies and T.V. shows to choose from, so that you can watch anything your little heart desires. They feed you dinner, snacks, and breakfast. You want for nothing up there. (If that's true, I think the coffee is going to be flowing like wine!) My son told me I'm going to love it, and I'm sure I will (love being a relative term). It's definitely better than having to sit in the back for seven hours, that's for sure. Have you ever seen comedian Brian Regan? He does this comedy bit about the difference between the snooty people up in first class and the riff-raff relegated to the cheap seats behind the curtain that is absolutely hilarious. (If you've never seen Brian Regan, you really must! His comedy is not only clean, but LOL funny.)

My husband has told me that I'd be surprised how many people are afraid of flying, just like me. From time to time during the boarding process, a passenger will look at him and tell him how nervous they are, and ask for reassurances that he and the plane are in good shape for the trip. Or when deplaning, every now and then a relieved passenger will thank him for getting everyone there safely. My husband has a stock reply for these people: he'll smile and say, "Hey, the father of my children is on this plane."

That just made me think about how much I adore our children (and our grandchildren!), so I'm going to post some pictures of the people my husband thinks about when he's flying passengers across the Atlantic.

Here are our four younger sons:

Awww. What a cute bunch they are. And here's our oldest, with his wife and twin daughters:

Cuteness abounds in this picture, too. Sigh...these are the people I'll be thinking about on this Friday, Friday, while I'm kickin' it with my frands up in business class. (Sorry, that won't happen again--I promise. I just can't get that ridiculous YouTube song out of my head!)

Trip Essentials

I've spent the past few days preparing myself (mostly mentally) for my trip to Nice on Friday. This will be my first time ever accompanying my husband on a working trip--where he will be up front in the cockpit, driving the airplane!--in the almost 24 years he's been a pilot for the airline. I'm flying standby, and so far (gulp!) the flights both there and back look wide open, so I should have no problem getting a seat. The flights are so empty as of now that I may even end up in business class, which I've heard is definitely the way to go when you're flying across the Atlantic. The Atlantic Ocean...that big, scary ocean...water, water, everywhere...flying in the dark of night...flying through vast, black emptiness--flying as only birds should do, really--when you could be snug at home, on good old terra firma, in your cozy house that's all decorated for Christmas...WHAT HAPPENED? I think I blacked out for a minute. Where was I? Oh, yes: I was talking about my upcoming trip to Nice, the French city on the Riviera that's a stone's throw from the fabled principality of Monaco. Just about anyone would like to be in my shoes, right? Flying across the Atlantic to the French Riviera, in business class (hopefully), no charge, with a free hotel room waiting over there on the Cote d'Azure, as they call it. So...do you by any chance wear between an 8 and 1/2 and a 9? (Ah, je m'amuse.)

Yesterday, I went out and bought this slim paperback book, See It and Say It in French, to take along with me to Nice. I used to be somewhat fluent in French back in my younger days. In fact, during a French Lit class my senior year of college, I took all my notes and wrote all my papers en francaise, and had even gotten to the point where I was actually thinking in French and didn't have to take the time to translate in my head. Mes amis, those days are long gone. I'm as rusty now as my passport (which I got in 2002 and have never taken out of the fire safe until now, which is a good thing because it expires in a matter of months!). If what they say about the French is true, however, I shouldn't even bother trying to converse in their native tongue. If they pretend not to understand ugly Americans who endeavor to speak their language and mangle it beyond recognition, I may be in trouble. But I do hope to have the opportunity to order un cafe au lait at a restaurant, parler a bit with the locals, and to tell everyone who'll listen about how j'ai pris l'avion! Across the great, big ocean, no less!

So these are my trip essentials: my Sparknotes-style French language book; my never-been-used passport; and my St. Joseph's prayer card, which I have with me every time I board an airplane. Before takeoff, I like to recite the "Unfailing Petition to St. Joseph," which I've posted on this blog before: O St. Joseph, whose protection is so great, so strong, so prompt before the throne of God, I place in thee all my interests and desires. O St. Joseph, do assist me by thy powerful intercession and obtain for me from thy Divine Son all spiritual blessings, through Jesus Christ, Our Lord; so that having engaged here below thy heavenly power, I may offer my thanksgiving and homage to the most loving of Fathers. O St. Joseph, I never weary contemplating thee and Jesus asleep in thy arms. I dare not approach while He reposes near thy heart. Press Him in my name and kiss His fine head for me and ask Him to return the kiss when I draw my dying breath. St. Joseph, Patron of departing souls, pray for me. Amen." 

Saying this prayer, and holding onto this card for dear life as the plane lifts off the ground, helps to calm my nerves. Am I looking forward to the actual cross-Atlantic flight on Friday? Je pense que non. But I am, certainement, looking forward to the mini-vacation with my husband. And this trip should give me some interesting material to blog about! 

Translations: 

Cote d'Azure: Sky Blue Coast 

je m'amuse: I amuse myself 

en francaise: in French 

mes amis: my friends 

un cafe au lait: a coffee with milk 

parler: to talk 

j'ai pris l'avion: I took the airplane 

Je pense que non.: I don't think so. 

certainement: certainly, of course