photos from Nerja

Aimee petting a dog at the donkey sanctuary, Sarah petting a donkey, the promenade in the town of Nerja, and a view of the sea near our apartment in Nerja.

photos of Paris and Barcelona

Sarah in front of a fountain in Barcelona, the Segrada Familia church by Gaudi, a pick pocketing sign posted in a Starbucks on the Ramblas in Barcelona, Aimee carrying the new suitcase Sarah had to buy in Paris because the wheel broke on hers, a vew of Paris from atop the Arc du Triomphe

Photos from Paris

Sarah touching the Eiffel Tower, Aimee touching the Eiffel Tower, the Eiffel Tower all by itself, Delphine and Sarah taking a break from riding bikes (along the Seine)

photos from France

The "chalet" we stayed in with the Robbe Family in Behoust, France. A group photo the morning we left, Sarah at the American cemetery in Normandy, crosses at the cemetery, a view of the entire cemetery.

photos from France

Omaha Beach in Normandy France. Aimee and Sarah on the ferry from England to France. Aimee and all our luggage just before boarding the ferry.

photos from London

Sarah standing outside the Prince of Wales Theatre where we saw Mamma Mia on our last night in London, Big Ben on a rainy day, Aimee relaxing in Starbucks, a red phone booth somewhere in London.

Too good to be true

Until this point, this trip had gone flawlessly and we were just beginning to think that things were too good to be true when we discovered they actually were. Though what we are about to describe here will sound farfetched and way too scripted to have actually occurred, we assure you that every single word is the truth. Sit back, relax, and prepare for a good look at our last drama-filled day in Europe.

It began with a very, very early start to the day. New neighbors had just moved into the apartment above us and they were up nearly the entire night making one ruckus or another. Everything from chatting and giggling, moving furniture, and a screaming kid (presumably with night terrors). Unable to sleep through all of this, Sarah tossed and turned waiting for it to end. Hoping for some advice on what to do, she checked in on Aimee who had turned the couch into her bed, but every time she did, she found her sleeping soundly in a different, yet comfortable, position. Finally, Sarah concluded enough was enough and decided to take some action on her own. Reaching in the dark she grabbed the closest thing to her, a shoe, and threw it with all her might up to the ceiling. It made impact with a disappointing "Pfff" sound and promptly fell back down hitting her square on the head. Not to be deterred, Sarah decided to try another tactic. This time she grabbed a broom from the kitchen thinking this might make a louder bang to encourage the neighbors to cease their behaviors. Instead, all she got was a showering of ceiling dust. And, even worse, she discovered in the morning that there were several tiny marks left in the ceiling. They finally quieted at about 3:30 and Sarah was able to get about 40 minutes of sleep before needing to get up and drive about an hour away to the airport in Malaga (to catch a flight to London where we flew out of today). We were, of course, furious with these unfriendly folks, and, never fear, we exacted sweet revenge before leaving. For full details, see the deleted scenes later.

At some point in the midst of getting ready and packing our belongings, Aimee blew a fuse while blow drying her hair. We were unable to reset it and, thus, spent the entire time creeping about by candle light.

Next up, the drive to the airport. We left at about 6:30 am and, fortunately, we allotted ourselves plenty of time because in the end we needed it. We had a nice drive the first forty minutes and even began to wonder why we left so early when with just one mile to go... Thump thump thump. "What is that noise?" Aimee questioned. Suspecting the obvious, we pulled over to the side of the road and discovered the right rear tire of our Volkswagon Golf completely flat! With cars whizzing by within inches of us, Sarah eked her way out of the driver's side and walked about a hundred yards to the SOS calling booth (really, that's what it was called) to phone for help. She reached a very friendly dispatcher named Antonio who didn't speak a lick of English. So, in her best Espanol, Sarah informed him of our location and our problem, adding that we had a flight we needed to catch in 2 hours so the more rapido he could send someone the better. He assured her that there would be someone there in diez minutos. We realized, though, that in Spain 10 minutes really means more like 30. Just before Antonio's repair truck arrived, a pair of very friendly officers of La Policia de Espana, named Jose and Vidal, pulled over to check out our situation. They removed the spare tire and tool kit for us, but, as our luck would have it, the necessary tool for removing the lug nuts was missing! So, what should have been a ten-minute fix turned into another 30 minute wait with us getting acquainted with our new friends. The driver of the repair truck, who apparently came without tools, was smoking his cigarettes; Aimee was taking lots of photos as evidence for those who might not believe this tale; and Sarah was starting to panic a bit about missing our flight. Jose, the officer, contacted the Hertz rental company for us, who said they would be sending out a tow truck to pick us up and take us to the aeropuerto. In the meantime, we said adios and muchas gracias to officers Jose and Vidal (but not before taking a group photo) while the driver of the repair truck stayed with us, still with a cigarette in hand. We learned that his name, too, was Jose and that he has two grown daughters who are traveling in the US.


A short while later, the Hertz tow truck arrived driven by a young man named Marcos. After loading the Golf onto the bed of the truck with all our luggage still inside, we all hopped into the cab to continue the rest of our journey to the airport. In red carpet style, the driver pulled right up to the curb to let us out. He and Aimee clamored up into the rental car to retrieve our luggage. With a few more photos and a hug good-bye, we were on our way. Needless to say, we made it through security, past the gates, and safely into our seats with just minutes to spare.

You might think this is enough drama for one day, but not for this story. It gets better, or worse, depending on your view.

We arrived in London at lunchtime overly exhausted from the aforementioned lack of sleep and definitely ready to rest our heads on a nice fluffy pillow at the Holiday Inn Heathrow. Though we had decided early in our trip that we would not take a cab in London, knowing how expensive they are, after what we had been through we wanted the quickest means possible. So we hailed a cab to drive us what we thought would be a short 20 minute jaunt to our destination. Timed passed slowly as we watched the ticker quickly add up and an HOUR later we were in the hole 70 pounds. Honestly, we didn't mind, though, because we were just happy to have finally reached our destination.

Standing outside with our heaping mounds of luggage and staring at the grandiose hotel before us, we breathed a sigh of relief. We headed in and were mesmerized by the ambiance. Excited by the possibilities that this hotel had to offer (a pool, dining hall, free Internet, etc.), we proceeded to the check-in counter where we annoyingly discovered that we had been dropped off at the wrong Holiday Inn, once again dashing our spirits. We were informed that there are three Holiday Inns at the Heathrow airport. Two, of which, are on Bath Road and Sipson. So, our journey was not over. We then hailed another overly expensive taxi (ugh) to take us to the correct Holiday Inn, which offered only the basic amenities and was situated practically on the tarmac of the airport. You can guess the soundtrack to our evening. At this point we decided that our life of siestas was officially over and there would be no nap for us. So we ditched our bags and headed out on the town for a bit. That night, we watched the futbol game between Ghana and Uruguay in the comfort of our teeny tiny twin beds and then slumbered peacefully like babies swaddled in their mothers' arms.


The morals of this story are threefold.
1. Allow plenty of drive time when heading to the airport even if it seems excessive. Aimee repeatedly and annoyingly declared that we were leaving much too soon while Sarah was adamant that it was better to have too much time than not enough. We know who was right in this case.
2. Prior to leaving the rental car agency, always make sure your rental has the necessary equipment (e.g., flares, a jack, and a bright neon yellow vest with silver reflective striping) to get you out of sticky situations.
3. Never ever get in the cab with a newbie taxi driver who doesn't know how to locate your hotel despite having the correct address. And don't let him drive off until you make certain you are in the right place.

We are home safe and sound now and fatigue is starting to set in. We will work on the deleted scenes (rated R) and send them out via email. Let us know if you are interested.

Donkeys y siestas

We are sitting in our cozy little apartment listening to Jimmy Buffet (who else when you are vacationing in a sea side town?) dreading the packing that lay ahead of us. After living comfortably in one place for an entire week you can probably just imagine what a chore this will be.

We went to visit the local donkey sanctuary today which was a memorable experience. The sanctuary is home to about 15-20 donkeys, a handful of dogs, two hogs, some piglets, and a goat. There was even a donkey who is due to give birth any day. We are a bit disappointed we will miss seeing her donkey baby (foal?). Many of the animals have either been rescued from deplorable conditions or dropped off at the front gate of the sanctuary by their owners who are either unwilling or unable to care for them. We paid 2 euros for a bucket of carrots to feed them. Most of the donkeys were segregated into various pens, but there was one forty-year-old girl named Chica, who was allowed to roam freely during visiting hours. We quickly became Chica's favorite friends, though this wasn't too difficult since we were the only visitors at the time. After feeding her a couple carrots, we moved on to feed some of the other donkeys (we had to be fair, right?), but Chica followed us everywhere we went, frequently nudging Aimee, who had the bucket. It turns out that donkeys are not unlike dogs in their ability to make their wishes known. Clearly, this tactic has paid off for Chica before. And, needless to say, we didn't fail her this time either. In fact, she probably got half the bucket.

That's pretty much all we did today. Although, we did take our siestas and have our cappuccinos at our favorite local wi-fi hotspot. Clearly, our level of activity has dwindled dramatically since arriving in Nerja, which is evidenced by our recent step counts on the pedometer. Today's was an all time low--- 5,213. Que lastima!

Caves and driving 101

Yesterday we took a day-trip to the neighboring city of Malaga, about an hour west of Nerja, where we visited another Picasso Museum. Malaga is actually the town where Pablo was born and raised. He lived there until he was nineteen. We both agreed that we liked the museum in Barcelona better, but we acknowledge that this is probably because we had a Rick Steves book in hand for that visit, which is always quite helpful (and highly recommended) and provides good insight into some of the artwork. Anyway, Malaga is also the city we will be flying out from this Friday so, mostly to calm Sarah's nerves, we did a drive by of the airport just to be sure we know how to get there and where to return the rental car.

Later in the evening, Sarah worked up enough courage to teach Aimee how to drive a stick shift. What better car to practice on than a rental, right? It was difficult to find a stretch of land that was both straight and unoccupied by other vespas and tiny little cars zooming by. The best we could find had a slight incline. Naturally, she did better on the downhill than the uphill. But, she actually got the hang of it rather quickly. Must have been a good teacher. We will be moving onto shifting into second soon.

Today, we visited the "Cuevas de Nerja". Apparently, in the 1960s some local teenagers discovered massive underground caves that stretch for kilometers. Since then, the caves have become a main tourist attraction for this little town and have even made it into the Guiness Book of World Records. It was cool, both literally and figuratively, to be in something millions of years old underneath the Earth's surface.

After an afternoon siesta, we finally made our way down to the beach. The waters of the Mediterranean are cold, but felt refreshing in that heat we have been experiencing. The shores are lined with tiny little rocks. Ouch! One can tell the tourists from the locals by watching them hop up and down as the walk along the waters edge. Lol.

Finally, tonight Aimee learned the fine art of making a crepe, even though we are not in France anymore. Lol. Actually, we bought a mix which we just added water to and, voila, delicious crepes in three minutes.

Tomorrow is our final day in the Paradise of the Costa del Sol before heading north to London for our last night in Europe.

Settled in

We have settled in nicely to the quiet little town of Nerja, having slept in both days until after 1130am. Last night we enjoyed watching Los Estados Unidos play Ghana, despite the US falling short in the end, at the little cafe down the street. We met some more amigos nuevos named Oro, Truffle, and Toffee. They were rather hairy and liked to sit on our laps and had a constant need to lick us. If you haven't figured it out, they are the four-legged kind of friends: three perros who belonged to our friends from the other night, Colin and Nikki. This morning (actually afternoon), we are sitting in a cafe enjoying a freshly squeezed orange juice, cappuccino, and fruit platter. Wish we had more to say. Please stay tuned, though, because we will write more after we venture out.

Paradise found

We left Barcelona on Wednesday to drive south to Nerja where will be staying for one week. We drove about three hours and spent the night in a grand hotel along the coast in the city of Valencia. After life in hostels, it was like heaven. A tub and shower (as Aimee said, "Big enough so that my tush doesn't brush against the wall when I bend over"), television (though, entirely in Spanish), free wifi, and extra long fluffy towels were just some of the luxuries we have been missing lately and were able to enjoy. Today we drove the rest of the way, about six hours, to the southern tip of Spain. The trip went relatively well except for a few wrong turns coming and going in the major cities. The apartment we are staying in is just steps from the beach. We ate dinner tonight on the terrace looking out on the Mediterranean. It can't get any better than this.

After dinner we walked down to the local bar and watched Espana play Chile in La Copa del Mundo. We made some more amigos nuevos named Bill, Roger, Colin, Sue, and Nikki. You guessed it; they are not Spanish. They are all from England and have retired here. It's funny that the first people we meet in our new Spanish town are English! LOL. They gave us some invaluable insight into life in Nerja and made some good suggestions about how to spend our time here.

Speaking of how we will spend our time, on the drive down Aimee (the passenger)entertained Sarah (the driver) by reading a brochure with some tourist information about the town of Nerja and its main attractions. We thought you might enjoy these two highlights. This is exactly how it was written in the tour guide.

First,
MANOLO!
(there is photo of man with a satchel and carrying a business card)

"Manolo is a familiar figure in Nerja. Profoundly deaf, he is one of seven brothers, all with hearing difficulties. He may place a card depicting the alphabet for the deaf on your table, returning a few minutes later, hoping to receive a donation. He is the only person licensed by the Nerja town hall for this type of work."

We couldn't help but chuckle that this was actually highlighted as a 'must see' in an official brochure for the town. It harkened back to the days of circus freak shows.


Second,
RESCUE CENTRE
(there is a photo of two sweet donkeys peering over a low fence)

"Nerja has a rescue centre for donkeys, ponies, mules and horses, and is a long term sanctuary for recovering animals."

This part sounded nice, but then we kept reading and...

"Visitors are welcome, especially if you want to bring a swimsuit and help out with a shampoo and set for the animals."

Uh, no thanks. We will pass. Though we might like to go feed a carrot or two to the donkeys.

As for our plans for the next week, we may do some daily road trips to places like Gibraltar, Granada, or Cordoba, but the only thing set in stone is a daily siesta and watching the sunset. Ahhhh! Life is good for these two chicas Americanas.

Aimee's language difficulties, common themes, and something smells funny

Today was relatively easy. We only walked about 22,000 steps. But everyone needs a little break once in awhile, right? Last night we made friends with two women from Germany named Brigit and Karen. We would tell you their last names, but they don't sound appropriate in English. We'll just say that after they told us we couldn't stop giggling. As the sun settled, the four of us sat together out on the terrace of our B&B watching the flocks of people meandering in the streets below and discussing our travels thus far.

Speaking of terraces, here's a good story for you. Earlier in the day Sarah had been reading aloud from a Rick Steve's travel book in which he described a local terrace cafe for his readers to visit. When Sarah finished reading, Aimee commented with quite a puzzled look on her face, "Hmmmm, I wonder what a terrorist cafe is." "OMG!" Sarah thought rolling her eyes. Aimee has had several blunders like this since the start of our journey. Another favorite happened the day we arrived in Barcelona. We were in a restaurant conversing with a family from Lodi, California, who had already been in Barcelona several days. The father was relaying a story about visiting a tapas bar (very common restaurant here-- there are signs everywhere) with his daughters. Well, later that evening, Aimee commented in disgust, "I can't believe that guy took his daughters to a topless bar!" Sarah once again thought, "OMG! What is wrong with you?"

We have noticed a couple running themes in Barcelona. #1 Yorkies and French bulldogs are everywhere, which is just torturing us as we miss our little four-legged friends immensely. #2 These people are accident prone! Broken limbs of all sorts abound. Arms, legs, feet, hands, even a neck. We finally started counting the number of casts we have seen and are currently up to 26! #3 MC Hammer's balloon- style pantalones (without the neon colors) are making a come back in a big way. We predict Americans will be wearing them in another year or so. Any bets?

Finally, one last note to self (and warning to any future visitors to Barcelona): when in Barcelona, always smell your seat before sitting down. Looks can be deceiving. See, it had been a long day of walking for us yesterday so we decided to rest our weary selves and do some people watching at a local park. We spied a bench to sit on, but, no sooner did we plant our tired rumps, then we both smelled a wiff of something that has become quite familiar to us in the metro stations and back alley ways of this big city. Simultaneously, we both said "It smells like pee," and leapt off the bench. Needless to say, it's a very good thing we brought a Laundry Pac Travel Laundry Kit with us. We tore that thing open as soon as we got home and put it to good use.

Oh, we lied. One more thing. Happy St. Johns Day! Do you know what that means?
In Barcelona, it means no work, bonfires on the beach, and parties all night long.

Gaudi and futbol

Let's just say, if you don't like crowds, Barcelona is not the place for you. Or, at least not The Ramblas, the main drag, where we are staying. The crowds here are some of the biggest we have ever seen. That, combined with the ever present threat of professional pick pocketers, can make for a somewhat unnerving experience at first. We have become accustomed to it, though, and know to keep an eye out and watch our belongings carefully. Other than that, it really is a beautiful city, full of life.


Yesterday, we explored two buildings designed by Antoni Gaudi. First, we saw La Sagrada Familia (Holy Family church), which he worked on from 1883 until his death in 1926. Basically, it is a GIANT gothic church that is still being constructed and is not expected to be complete for another quarter century. After La Sagrada Familia, we toured another Gaudi attraction, the Casa Mila. It's a "Modernista" building according to Rick Steves. You should look up pictures of it online to get a real sense of what it looks like. Though both places were interesting to look at, we both agree the gothic style is not exactly our taste and, in fact, walked away wondering if the term "gaudy" in the English language stems from his style of art. LOL. Yesterday, in La Copa del Mundo, Espana played Honduras so it was great to be in a Spanish city at the same time. We made our way to a cafe on Las Ramblas to watch the game on television. It was nice to see the excitement of the locals after Spain's victory.

Today, we visited the Picasso Museum, which houses many pieces of works from his early, boyhood years. It was neat to see the transition his artistic style made as he grew from a young boy of 12 years old into a young adult-- very different styles. Admittedly, neither one of us were Picasso fans before, but have now been converted.

We are resting now and hoping to rent bikes later for a ride along la playa (beach). By the way, for all of Sarah's friends who helped her practicar su Espanol, she is doing quite well communicating with others and has even received a few praises from the locals. Muchas gracias!

Some funny stories for you

Thought we would post a couple funny stories for you all. We flew to Barcelona from Paris yesterday and spent the time in the airport writing these. More later about Espana.

"That's a pig!" Sarah exclaimed as a push cart slowly wheeled by her at the airport in Paris with an interesting package on top. It was an actual pig. Dead. But, still, a pig it was.

Speaking of pigs, here's a question for you. Who knows the universal word for "ham"? Well, never fear, if you don't cause you about to learn. During our stay in Paris we found out. Here's the story. Aimee walked into the local Marche (food mart) in search of something to eat when she came across a refrigerator with rows and rows of prepackaged sandwiches. Deciding that a ham sandwich would satisfy her hunger pangs, she began her search. Unfortunately, this was not as easy as one might think for just looking at the contents of each package did not necessarily give away what it was. By the way, Sarah wouldn't even go near them for this reason. After several minutes of perplexity, Aimee decided to seek assistance. "Excuse moi, Monsieur, is this ham?" Aimee asked pointing at the container she was holding. To which she merely received a blank stare in response. Thinking quickly, Aimee decided to try another term. "Pig?" she asked. Again, blank stare. So, ever so creative and determined, Aimee decided to try yet again. This time, she asked with a simple, yet rather loud, "Snnoooort!" to which, Le Monsieur excitedly nodded his head up and down and exclaimed "Oui! Oui! Jambon!" with an enormous grin on his face. We all laughed together. So, now you know how to say ham in any language: snort.


Now that we have told you about our diets while in Paris you might be thinking that we are sure to come back having doubled in size. And, honestly, we have sometimes thought this might be case as we were afraid we were getting bigger and bigger until we realized it was actually just the douches (showers) getting smaller and smaller with each new place we have stayed. Plus, with all the walking and walking and walking we have been doing, it is impossible for us to be growing that much. Each day, Aimee has been calculating our steps with her pedometer. Franny and Janine, get ready to be blown away. According to the pedometer, we walked 40,223 steps on Friday. On Saturday, we walked an additional 64,930 steps. We acknowledge that this is probably not entirely accurate but our tired legs and feet certainly feel like they have walked that many. Plus, even if it was only half that amount, we think that is still pretty impressive.

Last day in Paris

Yesterday, we left in the midmorning for Paris. Thankfully, Delphine accompanied us and was willing to drive because once in Paris we saw The Mother of All Round-Abouts near the Arc de Triomphe. With cars, scooters, and bicycles moving in all directions and no marked lanes, it certainly seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. However, upon closer inspection, there appear to be some unwritten rules and we realized that people generally are willing to let you merge as long as you keep moving. It all seems to works. However, we still wouldn't want to be behind the wheel.

We rented bikes and Delphine led us on a tour of the city. We rode along the Seine, saw the Notre Dame, the Pantheon, and a miniature version of our Lady Liberty among other fabulous sites. We were sad to say goodbye to her in the afternoon.

This morning we headed out early to do some Museums. We started with the Louvre and, thanks to our planning, arrived before opening and were the 12th and 13th visitors in line. Once the doors were opened, we raced the other visitors like a bunch of kids on an Easter egg hunt to find the Mona Lisa. We stood for our 10 second photo op and headed onward. We then completed the "Louvre Light" tour by Dan Brown (author of the DaVinci Code). By its name you can probably tell that this is the tour for people who are crunched for time.

After the Louvre, we made our way to the Tour Eiffel where we took some great photos while at the same time trying to avoid the gypsies and the displays of plastic Eiffel Tower keychains and statues for sale on sheets it the middle of the walkway.

Next, we opted to walk north to the Arc de Triomphe rather than take the Metro. We were glad we did because we happened upon a farmers market which was just delightful. It gave us an opportunity to be one with the locals. The Arc De Triomphe was fabulous, though we had to climb nearly 200 hundred steps up a spiral staircase to reach the top. For accomplishing this feat we were rewarded with a spectacular view of the entire city of Paris.

We are now back in our room resting before heading out again to do a boat tour on the Seine and visit the Jardin des Tuileries.

We leave tomorrow for Espana!

Goodbye London, Goodbye Subway turkey sandwiches (on wheat)! Bonjour France, Bonjour croissants and sandwiches with 'who-knows-what-that-is' on them!

So, we departed London in the wee hours of the morn on Wednesday (4am!) and, after a long train ride, stormed the beaches of Normandy via ferry around 3pm local time. We picked up a rental car in Caen and, many roundabouts later, finally arrived at our quaint little hotel, the Hotel Le Canada. It is situated near Juno beach, the home of the WWII Canadian cemetery, in the town of Ouistreham. Unlike the hustle and bustle of London, this small town was rather quiet and good eats were hard to come by. Ultimately, and probably not surprisingly, we opted for "American-style" pizza. Actually, our diet while in France has mostly consisted of things that will really do a number on one's blood sugar...Honey Smacks cereal, bread, apples, peanut M&Ms, and the French equivalent of Pepto Bismol! C'est la vie!

At any rate, yesterday we visited the American WWII cemetery at Omaha Beach just west of Ouistreham. What an awesome experience! First, we watched a short film narrated by WWII soldiers as well as family members of those who gave their lives. Next, we walked the grounds and took in the breath-taking beauty of the cemetery before heading down to the beach. While the cemetery and memorial were beautiful, the beaches left a lot to be desired, as they were littered with all sorts of debris (soda cans, bottles, fish nets, even a garden hose!) that made Santa Cruz look pristine. What a shame to have such an awe-inspiring, well-kept memorial to our troops while literally yards away at its feet lies a landfill.

After visiting the cemetary, we made our way east to the town of Behoust. The drive went surprisingly well with two major exceptions. Of course, if you know us, you would have to know that there were some mishaps, right? So here is our confession. #1 occurred at our first tollbooth encounter. As we approached and frantically searched our wallets for the correct coinage, we noted the sign above the booth which read "cartes". We confidently assumed this translated into "cars" in English. So we did not follow the big trucks in front of us to their booth and instead pulled up to the one that read "cartes". No sooner did we arrive at the crossbar blocking our way, and we realized our error for there was no slot to insert the coins we had so desperately rummaged for. And there was no human being to assist us either. There was only a place to insert a card. Meanwhile the line of cars behind us grew and grew and grew. There was some honking. And finally a woman stepped out of her booth across the way to assist us with the unhappiest of expressions and speaking sternly in French. After being freed, we drove on laughing hysterically for we had realized the error of our ways.#2 We made it nearly the entire way to our destination, the "chateau" (more on that later) of our friend's parents, when... We found ourselves lost in the French equivalent of the slums of Oakland! After driving in circles and passing the same Rue du Something many times, Aimee finally convinced me to "just pull over and ask Le monsieur for directions." We found a pharmacie and aimee ran in to seek assistance. Meanwhile Sarah, all by her lonesome, remained in the car. Fiddling on her brand new IPad, she realized there were some questionable Monsieurs pacing near the car and peering in at our overstuffed suitcases and backpacks. Aimee managed to get directions in the nick of time and we narrowly escaped the thugs, who, by the way (no joke) were carrying man purses. Guess every thug has their thing. Ha ha ha ha...

We arrived safe and sound at the lovely home of Andre and Giselle, the parents of Delphine Robbe and grandparents of Otis (a student in Sarah's class this year). The home looked like something out of Sunset magazine, and we quickly nicknamed it The Chateau. It had a gated entrance, landscaping that included a huge yard and two large gardens full of vegetables, and a separate guest house just for us. The home was filled with the most wonderful antiques. Andre and Giselle welcomed us with a delicious homemade French meal. It was the best we have eaten since leaving the States. Despite the language barrier, the conversation lasted well into the night. It will definitely serve as one of the most memorable experiences of this trip.


Au revoir for now!

London day 3

Ok, first, thank you for following our blog and posting comments. We love reading them!

This afternoon we happened upon the British War Museum. It was quite good and, better yet, didn't cost a single pence. :) It was the perfect segue to our adventure to Normandy tomorrow. Sandi, I think Charlie would have loved all the planes. Matt, too.

Today (and yesterday, sadly) we slept in past 1130. The jet lag is taking its toll. We got to see Mamma Mia tonight ( thank you Room 8 friends and family). It was indescribably fabulous. Amazing!

Though London has been good to us (the people are incredibly kind and considerate), we are ready to move on to France and are looking forward to meeting up with the Robbe family on Thursday.

Cheerio!

Day 1 and 2

Toodles from London!
We landed safely at Heathrow on Monday morning at about 10:00am local time.

Aimee says, "Our flight was bumpy!"
Sarah says, "The breakfast was yummers!"

By the time we deplaned, went through customs, retrieved our luggage, figured out the Tube situation, it was about 1pm when we arrived at our hostel, UMI London. It is quaint, but a little musty smelling. But, according to Aimee, all of London is a wee bit stinky. It's somewhat noisy, especially as I write this. Some obnoxious Americans two seats down are Skyping a family member and talking as loud as they possibly can. Oh, and then there is the church group congregating in the foyer and singing "We praise the Lord, Our Savior Jesus Christ".

Today, we did the Big Red Bus Tour and took in all the touristy sites. It rained off and on and was overcast (the weather reminds us of Washington State). The city of London, on the whole, reminds us a little of Washington, DC.

Tomorrow night is Mamma Mia at the Prince of Wales Theatre.

More tomorrow.
Cheerio, Loves!

At SFO we met an adorable Havanese named Joey (although, he did need some dental work) who reminded us of our little guys. This, of course, tugged at our heart strings. Then, we walked off the plane in DC (layover), starving, and the first thing we saw was California Taqueria! We opted for the ice cream cookie sandwich at Potbelly (our east coast favorite) for dinner instead. We are off to take a walk before the next leg of our long journey overseas.

tick tock tick tock

8 days and counting... tick tock tick tock. Aimee and I plan to keep a blog as best as we can while we are on our great European adventure. Hopefully, we will be able to post some pictures, too. Stay tuned!