* * * Short(er) version of this available here. * * *

These were the most important two weeks of my summer. It's what I'd been looking forward to since... Christmas. Pamela and I were having two weeks of vacation together. We'd be with each other all the time, for sixteen days. All the time. What heaven! Well, not exactly heaven. It was more complicated then heaven is meant to be; Her parents were coming with us. (Oh no. That sounds terrible. It wasn't BAD that they were with us. It just complicated matters that's all.) To be particular, having her parents with us... forced us to get out of bed before noon each day, made the decisions of where to go twice, (at least) more difficult to make, and made the searching for accommodation a bit more difficult, (both because they have a different standard of what's acceptable for a place to stay, and because we needed to find such places that had room for Four people instead of two.)

It was still heaven, because I was with Pamela. I shouldn't complain that they complicated matters though, because I believe it was anyhow my suggestion that they come with us. (I don't know if I can explain that though; I suggested it because... I can see and understand how much Pamela means to them. It's clear to me that they love her and treasure their time with her as much as I do. So I would feel guilty about taking Pamela away from them, and having a vacation with only her; They've been going places with her in the summer for... years and years. Does that make sense?)

Anyhow... Pamela and I had been planning, (for months,) to go to France. The parents, in contrast, were more partial for Italy. In the end, France was decided on, but we just couldn't decide Where in France. Pamela and I were thinking the West side, from the middle to the north coast, and the parents felt it would be to cold, and the water too rough, and, (if we had to go to France at all,) that we should be on the west side, as south as possible, (in Spain, for example.) This meant that we were going to go there, start somewhere in the middle, and decide where to go once we were there. ("Where to go" here meaning "which direction to go." and this step would be reevaluated at each point along the way.)

Essentially, we decided to start by going to the Loire valley, (a bit west of the centre,) and then go where the winds blew us after that. (The "Winds" in this case being the combination of the arguments from the four corners of our four mouths.)

I can say now, that we all had a good time, and the completely improvised result was nice.

I don't have any of our papers, maps and leaflets with me though. (SO... you're going to be spared a day by day, town by town, meal by meal detailed explanation of all we did. I hope you don't mind too much.)

The Loire (River) Valley is one of the wine regions of France. It's got lots of castles, and hills covered with neat rows of grapes. We got first to Pamela's wish: A Huge Garden show in Chaument sur Loire. Next was the Castle that I most of all wanted to see: Chenanceau, (Which I remembered from Ballet History, years and years ago, when I was 13.) Then came the Father's wish: La Bordaisiere. It's the castle where the "Gardener Price" lives. The price who has over 600 species of Tomatoes growing there. And there is nothing that this Father loves more than Tomatoes. So we had to go, and take pictures of them, (and steal a few to have their seeds.)

After some few days like this, we got to the Ocean. (We were eager to get to the ocean, and decide what to do / where to go next.) So eager were we, that I (Who played Navigator the whole trip, and found the roads that would take us to the desired location,) got us to the Atlantic the quickest way possible, regardless of where it was. This was a little fishing harbour, by a pebbley beach, half covered with sea weed, and with a hundred sand fleas per square foot. The water was just lovely, but None of them would even consider staying there, much less getting into the water. It took some effort on my part to convince them that it wasn't typical of the whole Ocean, and get them to go to a proper sandy beach marked on the map.

Again, I was too eager, this time to prove to them that the beaches on the Atlantic can be friendly and nice. So we went to the nearest sandy beach. -Which was only a Little crowded with tourists. And had a Little forest of condos built all along it. And was only a Little bit freezing cold, being not at all sheltered or shallow.

Pamela and I went in in shortly, but couldn't really stay in it.

And we went on, to the large city of La Rochelle. (Which, incidentally, was about as far South as I had thought we ought to go.) We arrived in the biggest summer harbour festival of the coast. We found a Parking place after only half an hour, and went to spend the evening going through the city and having something to eat. It was a pleasant evening, and had us all in fine moods. Then we went to ask at the nearby hotel if there were any free rooms. (It was about 11 at night then.) Well, there weren't. They suggested we get at least an hour away from the coast, before we even start looking for someplace to stay. The French Holiday had just started, and half of the population was there on the coast.

So, we went inland... and looked some more. And got the same answer: "No where around here! Not a chance." And we went further. And at last got a friendly person, at 2:45 in the morning, who opened the door, to tell us that it was quite impossible. -But... perhaps he could make some phone calls. And he did. We were ever so greatfull to him then, when he said that he reached a hotel in a city only 60 km away, that had room for four people. Not only that, but he reserved the rooms there for us. (And a good thing too, because every hotel we went to, we saw other cars driving in, seeing that there were no rooms, and then leaving again; the same as us. So it could only be a matter of time before this hotel, in Cognac, would fill up too.)

So, we stayed that night in Cognac. And the region seemed alright to us, (and far away enough from the coast that we had a chance of finding a nice place to stay.) So we went to the tourist office, and found a nice, reasonably priced bed and breakfast, which jut happened to be situated on a vineyard in the region. This was then the nicest place we stayed, -and we stayed there for a whole week.

The family were Cognac... vinters, (if that's the right term for them,) and they had five rooms they rented out as well. They were very friendly, and had a clean lovely place... and had very, Very nice Cognac for us to try. Also, something called "Pinot", which is very very young Cognac, (it's normally only sold after five years, at the very least,) mixed with grape juice, and then let to sit in oak barrels for at least three years to develop flavour. The result of that is just wonderful, and a not too dangerous 17 percent alcohol, and we all enjoyed that local speciality greatly.

While there, we got a chance to see how Cognac would be made, (it's only made in the middle of winter, so it was looking and pointing, and explaining. -and then testing.) And also a physical demonstration of how the oaken barrels were made, (a highly important part for this alcohol is the barrel.) There was also a traditional boat ride along the river, a lace museum, a shipping museum, and any number of small old towns along the way. There were also Dolmen here and there around the countryside. Don't know what Dolmen are? Think of people 2000 years (or more) ago, have the spare parts left over from the building of stone henge, making the crudest of arches, or huts, or such things out of them. That's Dolmen.

We also went twice to the Bordeaux region, and to one huge, Huge sand dune, and to one of the islands in the Atlantic, and to an oceanside restaurant, probably the best in the region, in "the most beautiful town in France" to have dinner. -And I felt that I just Needed to properly try the local seafood. And thought that the others would like to as well. But we didn't get it coordinated. And... well, I really wanted to have these Mussels, which I'd heard were particularly good. So, when Pamela was ordering her Tarte Tantin, (A special French Desert,) and the parents were getting their after dinner coffee... I caused a bit of a stir by ordering a place of Mussels. The waiter asked twice if I really meant it. I heard him say, when he then went to the kitchen, "Yes. Really. Mussels for dessert." I feel bad about having Pamela half embarrassed for me, but... I enjoyed them greatly, and thought they were very good! Yum yum.

There was a married couple from England, who owned a summer house in Brittagne. We met them in some town in the Cognac region because after doing some repairs to their house, they were using the rest of the summer for canoeing through the rivers and canals of Mid-western France. They were nice to talk to a bit, and then we met them twice more in other towns we visited in the next couple of days.

After the week in Cognac Region, we decided to use the last two days going through the land between Cognac and Paris. We were first in a town called Limoges, where there's a great deal of Porcelain made. We went through some of the shops, and to a factory, where we got a tour of the old, (and new) porcelain making procedures. The large interest in this town lay with Pamela and her Mother; They both enjoy the hobby of painting Porcelain, (which is then burned, and made... nice.) So they did some shopping for undecorated... objects. (I think they got some plates and serving dishes.)

I remember the town we went to next: it was Chevrole. Chevre in French meaning Goat, and this being a town of Goat Cheeses. I suppose that for the French it might be as well know as Cheddar is for the English. We weren't truly there only for the cheese though. We came for the Wine. Just beside Chevrole is a well known and unique wine Region, (who's name I can't quite recall -but there was ANOTHER wine region, just across the river called Pouilly, -that's where "Pouilly Fumé" comes from.) It was only once we were there, trying the wine, that we found out that there was particularly well know goat cheese to be tried on the next hill.

The next day, our last day, (after staying near the Cheese place over night, and visiting Pouilly in the morning,) we went on to Paris, found our way into the city, (with comparatively little trouble, considering our lack of good maps,) and went for a little walk, to "smell the Parisian Air." and to see what the life in the city was like. OK, we went to Paris so that we could Be in Paris. That was a nice walk through the Louvre square, and then in the Touleries. We then went a bit into the proper streets of Paris, and stopped to have a coffee. -I naturally didn't have a Coffee. I didn't know What to have. What else is one supposed to order at a Parisian Café? From the menu I chose the Something-Cream with Honey. It turned out to be if not wonderful then...interesting. And not too bad.

We made a small stop to look at one church, but not for long, because the afternoon was getting late... -and the plan had formed that we were driving all the way back to home in Germany that evening. So off we went, -around the Arch de Triumph, just for kicks. (It's a bigger monument then I remembered.)

We drove, and drove, and drove, and got to the Münch house in Detmold in the middle of the night. And that was the end of my vacation; The next day I took the train to Lüneburg.