Did I mention that I never intended to fly United airlines to Europe? United has among other things lost my luggage for a week on a flight that I never took. But that is another story.
When searching for tickets for this trip, other airlines took priority and I was pleased when the lowest fare found was with Lufthansa. This was not due to wonderful past experience with Lufthansa. It was just that, having never flown Lufthansa, they have never had the opportunity to provide bad service to me. They still don’t.
Only after purchasing the tickets did it become clear that my flights weren’t just code-shares with United but were, in fact, operated by United. To their credit, the fine United personnel at Dulles managed to overcome the computer system flaws and actually get me into the seat section I had paid for on the trip to Paris. The United staff in Paris not only couldn’t overcome those flaws; they had no particular desire to do so. The check-in agent said there was no other option but said she would ask the gate agent to find a better seat if possible.
The flight was boarding by the time customs and security were cleared. There was just a moment to politely ask the gate agent if she was able to find a better seat while mentioning the mix-up with the upgrade. Much to my surprise she said there were plenty of upgraded seats available if only I had bothered to buy one and began to berate and blame me for the problems. She continued to do so as I walked down the ramp to the plane. Her behavior is still stunning and incomprehensible to me.
And so it was that I spent the return flight in the middle seat in a row of five. I’m not a vindictive man and certainly do not wish the designers and approvers of five-across seating eternal damnation. No, I only wish upon them a lifetime of sitting in that middle seat and with the seat in front fully reclined. Oh, and maybe the strong urge to go to the restroom while trapped there.
There was a short period of small hope. One of the seats next to me appeared to be unoccupied. But then the man sitting on the aisle generously traded seats so that an avoirdupois couple could sit next to each other. And next to me. But I must say in fairness that my four seat mates were good traveling companions as we all endured our cramped spaces. And I must also say that the passengers in the next section, having raised the armrests in the unoccupied seats, were sleeping quite well.
The flight eventually ended with the usual get in a line, wait, then get in the next line and wait. It was good to be home and wonderful to be with Deborah again. There was one piece of unfinished business. As Deborah says, “Don’t these people understand that you’re retired and have the time to act on complaints?” The letter to Glenn Tilton, CEO of United, is already in the mail. There is a tiny chance he’ll provide some United employees with more reasons to dislike him. Effective or not, it always feels good to write and send off an oh-so-polite and reasonable complaint letter. And with the letter sent and this blog posted, it’s now time to move on.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Bus? What bus?
There was more drama in last Wednesday's trip to the airport in Paris than desired. An early, leisurely start became a mad dash. Approaching the shuttle bus stop more than five hours before departure, I was pleased to see the Air France shuttle bus already there. Air France runs buses every half hour from the airport to downtown at a price that is more reasonable that a taxi and more comfortable than the RER.
After loading our bags and getting in line, four others and I were told there was no room. We were left with our bags to await the next bus. With buses scheduled every half hour, plenty of time until departure and complete ignorance of the future, this minor set back wasn’t of any concern.
Time passed quickly as we chatted about our trips and made small talk. More and more people gathered for the next bus. Soon over an hour had passed and no other buses had come. We took some comfort in seeing that several flight attendants were waiting with us and that they seemed unconcerned. But an hour became an hour and a half and then two. The flight attendants abandoned the line and flagged down a taxi. For those of us paying attention, this was our signal to panic.
First, two of my four original companions flagged down a taxi. Then the two others did and kindly invited me to join them. With the trunk of the taxi filled, my large bike case took the front seat, and the three of us squeezed uncomfortably into the back seat with along with a few remaining small bags. There was now less than two hours until take-off and at least a forty minute ride to the airport. As the taxi alternately raced along and sat in traffic jams, two thoughts were on my mind: Was I going to make my flight? And, having failed to ask before jumping into the taxi, how much was this going to cost me?
While pondering these, I learned that the couple were Chinese living in Finland; that they had gone to Lourdes to pray for the wife’s health; that the taxi driver was from Vietnam with a brother in Houston and many other fascinating tidbits. They were nice people and interesting to talk with. Uncomfortably pressed against the door with luggage in my lap and concerned about making the flight I confess my mind wasn’t really on the conversation.
With no idea what time it was, we arrived at the terminal and the answer to the first question was provided: $64. Unless you add the cost of the unused bus return ticket that makes it $18 more. In keeping with the spirit of the day, the taxi dropped me off as far as possible from the United counters. The long line of passengers awaiting my flight was eventually found after a mad dash. With less than an hour until take-off, it was comforting to know many others were just as late.
But comfort wasn’t part of this day’s theme. As we’ll see in the next post, with no knowledge of the future, how could I know that the taxi ride had simply been practice for the rest of my journey?
After loading our bags and getting in line, four others and I were told there was no room. We were left with our bags to await the next bus. With buses scheduled every half hour, plenty of time until departure and complete ignorance of the future, this minor set back wasn’t of any concern.
Time passed quickly as we chatted about our trips and made small talk. More and more people gathered for the next bus. Soon over an hour had passed and no other buses had come. We took some comfort in seeing that several flight attendants were waiting with us and that they seemed unconcerned. But an hour became an hour and a half and then two. The flight attendants abandoned the line and flagged down a taxi. For those of us paying attention, this was our signal to panic.
First, two of my four original companions flagged down a taxi. Then the two others did and kindly invited me to join them. With the trunk of the taxi filled, my large bike case took the front seat, and the three of us squeezed uncomfortably into the back seat with along with a few remaining small bags. There was now less than two hours until take-off and at least a forty minute ride to the airport. As the taxi alternately raced along and sat in traffic jams, two thoughts were on my mind: Was I going to make my flight? And, having failed to ask before jumping into the taxi, how much was this going to cost me?
While pondering these, I learned that the couple were Chinese living in Finland; that they had gone to Lourdes to pray for the wife’s health; that the taxi driver was from Vietnam with a brother in Houston and many other fascinating tidbits. They were nice people and interesting to talk with. Uncomfortably pressed against the door with luggage in my lap and concerned about making the flight I confess my mind wasn’t really on the conversation.
With no idea what time it was, we arrived at the terminal and the answer to the first question was provided: $64. Unless you add the cost of the unused bus return ticket that makes it $18 more. In keeping with the spirit of the day, the taxi dropped me off as far as possible from the United counters. The long line of passengers awaiting my flight was eventually found after a mad dash. With less than an hour until take-off, it was comforting to know many others were just as late.
But comfort wasn’t part of this day’s theme. As we’ll see in the next post, with no knowledge of the future, how could I know that the taxi ride had simply been practice for the rest of my journey?
Catching up
The Internet connections problems in Paris interrupted posting there. Then on my return I immediately left to visit my aging parents and see my somewhat less aging high school classmates. So over the next few days, I'll be wrapping up the account of this adventure with additional posts.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Last Post from Paris
It has been a very busy day with lots of walking and biking. I really tried to do too much and should have just stayed in one area. I spend most of the day biking from one place to another on the Velib bikes which can be picked up and dropped off all over the city.
Briefly, I went to Port Doree to see the bas-relief on the Palais du Port Doree, then past Pere-Lachaise to the Parc de Belleville which has a overview of Paris (unfortunately, it was cloudy). Next was the Canal St. Martin with shops and cafes beside an old canal. Then it was off to Montmartre to see the church there. It was an absolute madhouse of tourists and touts. By then I was running late for the walking tour at 3 and had just a few minutes back at the B&B to freshen up and pickup some camera supplies. It was back on the bike to the Ile St. Louis to meet the World War 2 walking tour with minutes to spare. The walking tour was disappointing as it was mostly walking from Notre Dame to the Arc du Triomphe will a few stops for talking. Then it took me a long walk to find another Velib bike and then a long ride back home.
So I'm beat and plan to nap and then get an early dinner. I am really ready to be home.
Pictures and a few more tour descriptions will have to wait until I am home. Oh, did I mention that it is off to my 40th high school reunion two days after returning from France?
Thanks again for reading.
Briefly, I went to Port Doree to see the bas-relief on the Palais du Port Doree, then past Pere-Lachaise to the Parc de Belleville which has a overview of Paris (unfortunately, it was cloudy). Next was the Canal St. Martin with shops and cafes beside an old canal. Then it was off to Montmartre to see the church there. It was an absolute madhouse of tourists and touts. By then I was running late for the walking tour at 3 and had just a few minutes back at the B&B to freshen up and pickup some camera supplies. It was back on the bike to the Ile St. Louis to meet the World War 2 walking tour with minutes to spare. The walking tour was disappointing as it was mostly walking from Notre Dame to the Arc du Triomphe will a few stops for talking. Then it took me a long walk to find another Velib bike and then a long ride back home.
So I'm beat and plan to nap and then get an early dinner. I am really ready to be home.
Pictures and a few more tour descriptions will have to wait until I am home. Oh, did I mention that it is off to my 40th high school reunion two days after returning from France?
Thanks again for reading.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Electronics
Loyal reader Rob has asked about the electronic stuff that I have with me, especially the laptop used for this blog and email.
If such things do not interest you, you may skip reading this post.
As I prepared for this trip, I realized that there was going to be lots of extra stuff to haul around in addition to the bicycle. It is good that my clothing needs are simple and that I'm not too particular about making fashion statements. Otherwise, I would have needed a third suitcase.
Here is a picture of the electronic paraphernalia I have. It does not include the small digital camera that was used to take the picture:
You'll see two cell phones. One works in the US; the other in Europe. The European phone cost $49 with no monthly fees and includes a UK number. The per-minute charges are of course quite high but it is essentially for emergency use and infrequent calls (such as confirming the pick-up time and place with the lodge owner). The SIM card for the phone is from Mobal but now that I have the phone, I could purchase a SIM card with better rates or different coverage if my needs change or there is a better deal.
There are lots of chargers: camera, cell phone, laptop, iPOD. Standardizing these so that only one was needed would be a great advance for civilization.
The camera is a Panasonic DMC-FZ8 with a 12x zoom and 7+ MP. It isn't an SLR which makes it lighter and more compact but it has alll the manual features and settings that one could want. The other camera is a Nikon Coolpix S50c point and shoot. It takes good pictures but doesn't have lots of features nor shoot in RAW mode. if you know what that is you'll understand why it is important to me. If not, ask me sometime or read about it on the web. I brought the Nikon along just in case there were problems with the Panasonic.
A variety of SD memory cards from 1-8GB were brought along as well as an USB SD adapter just for good measure. An 8GB USB memory stick was brought along just for backing up pictures. On our trip to Portugal several years ago, half the pictures were lost when the memory card was re-formated accidentally. You wouldn't think that would happen with the camera buttons randomly being hit as the camera bumped against me but the 'Format Successful' message and complete absence of pictures confirmed that it did. I still mourn the loss of those pictures.
The iPOD has been with me for years as you can probably see. It's a first generation one and the battery has been replaced three times. The battery died early in the train trip to Paris. Maybe I should just break down and buy a new iPOD.
Two plug adapters are included to connect this stuff to the local outlets.
Finally, there is the laptop, an Acer AspireOne.
It is has a solid state drive, meaning no spinning hard disk, that is like a memory stick. It weights less than 2 pounds, starts up fast (15 seconds) and costs less than $400. It runs Linux and has lots of open source programs to do whatever I and most people need to do. Installation of other programs (like a full featured photo editor that I wanted) is easy. The *nix command line is there for those comfortable with it like I am. It is about the size of a National Geographic magazine but a little thicker. The keyboard is useable for touch typing (another of my requirements) and the screen is more than good enough. I highly recommend this computer for travel.
I took a mouse along which didn't make it into the picture as it is much more comfortable for me especially when dealing with pictures and moving stuff around.
Finally, there are the Bose noise-cancellation headphones. These are great for listening to music but their real value is blocking noise on the plane that makes the trip much more restful. The reduction in engine noise, not just noise made by other passengers, that is the benefit here. Also highly recommended.
And that for those of you still reading is my digital travel world.
If such things do not interest you, you may skip reading this post.
As I prepared for this trip, I realized that there was going to be lots of extra stuff to haul around in addition to the bicycle. It is good that my clothing needs are simple and that I'm not too particular about making fashion statements. Otherwise, I would have needed a third suitcase.
Here is a picture of the electronic paraphernalia I have. It does not include the small digital camera that was used to take the picture:
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You'll see two cell phones. One works in the US; the other in Europe. The European phone cost $49 with no monthly fees and includes a UK number. The per-minute charges are of course quite high but it is essentially for emergency use and infrequent calls (such as confirming the pick-up time and place with the lodge owner). The SIM card for the phone is from Mobal but now that I have the phone, I could purchase a SIM card with better rates or different coverage if my needs change or there is a better deal.
There are lots of chargers: camera, cell phone, laptop, iPOD. Standardizing these so that only one was needed would be a great advance for civilization.
The camera is a Panasonic DMC-FZ8 with a 12x zoom and 7+ MP. It isn't an SLR which makes it lighter and more compact but it has alll the manual features and settings that one could want. The other camera is a Nikon Coolpix S50c point and shoot. It takes good pictures but doesn't have lots of features nor shoot in RAW mode. if you know what that is you'll understand why it is important to me. If not, ask me sometime or read about it on the web. I brought the Nikon along just in case there were problems with the Panasonic.
A variety of SD memory cards from 1-8GB were brought along as well as an USB SD adapter just for good measure. An 8GB USB memory stick was brought along just for backing up pictures. On our trip to Portugal several years ago, half the pictures were lost when the memory card was re-formated accidentally. You wouldn't think that would happen with the camera buttons randomly being hit as the camera bumped against me but the 'Format Successful' message and complete absence of pictures confirmed that it did. I still mourn the loss of those pictures.
The iPOD has been with me for years as you can probably see. It's a first generation one and the battery has been replaced three times. The battery died early in the train trip to Paris. Maybe I should just break down and buy a new iPOD.
Two plug adapters are included to connect this stuff to the local outlets.
Finally, there is the laptop, an Acer AspireOne.
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It is has a solid state drive, meaning no spinning hard disk, that is like a memory stick. It weights less than 2 pounds, starts up fast (15 seconds) and costs less than $400. It runs Linux and has lots of open source programs to do whatever I and most people need to do. Installation of other programs (like a full featured photo editor that I wanted) is easy. The *nix command line is there for those comfortable with it like I am. It is about the size of a National Geographic magazine but a little thicker. The keyboard is useable for touch typing (another of my requirements) and the screen is more than good enough. I highly recommend this computer for travel.
I took a mouse along which didn't make it into the picture as it is much more comfortable for me especially when dealing with pictures and moving stuff around.
Finally, there are the Bose noise-cancellation headphones. These are great for listening to music but their real value is blocking noise on the plane that makes the trip much more restful. The reduction in engine noise, not just noise made by other passengers, that is the benefit here. Also highly recommended.
And that for those of you still reading is my digital travel world.
WiFi Issues
I,am typing this on a French keyboard on a borrowed computer so forgive qny strqnge typing. WiFi qccess at the B&B in Paris just won;t work. It may be a while until the next post.
I do have something prepared on my digital & electronic stuff and will try to post it.
I do have something prepared on my digital & electronic stuff and will try to post it.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
'Rest' day
The day after the climb of L'Alpe d'Huez was naturally planned as an easy day. One possibility was a so-called balcony road. Look closely at this picture and you'll see a road running along the side of the mountain:
There are several of these roads nearby offering a relatively flat ride and spectacular views. There is one slight complication. You have to get up to the balcony road to enjoy it. In this case, that meant doing the first five turns of the Alpe d'Huez climb. If you recall, that is the most difficult part of the climb. But I was feeling surprisingly good this morning and at least knew what I was in for. The legs felt good on the warm-up ride. It was only a little ways so it wouldn't be a problem, I thought. And then I started up L'Alpe d'Huez again.
By the time I reached the first turn, my heart was racing, the legs were screaming and my breathing sounded like a run-away steam engine. But was I going to let a few things like that spoil my plans? Of course not. After a brief rest, I composed myself and settled into a nice easy rhythm and in what seemed like no time, I was ready to turn off onto the balcony road. If the first picture didn't give you the idea of what this road is like, then maybe this one will:
The legs were telling me this was going to be a short day but I had done the hard work and now could roll along and enjoy the views:
Instead of doing the longer loop that was originally planned, I eventually turned around, knowing that it was downhill to go home. That included the steep section at the bottom of L'Alpe where I reluctantly used the brakes to stay behind this sloooow car.
And so ended what has been a wonderful and satisfying time riding in the Alps.
The bike is now packed, some clothes washed and tomorrow morning the trip back to Paris begins with a bus ride to Grenoble. The next post should be from Paris and I'll try to get more pictures uploaded then.
Thanks for all your comments and encouraging emails. They have meant a lot.
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There are several of these roads nearby offering a relatively flat ride and spectacular views. There is one slight complication. You have to get up to the balcony road to enjoy it. In this case, that meant doing the first five turns of the Alpe d'Huez climb. If you recall, that is the most difficult part of the climb. But I was feeling surprisingly good this morning and at least knew what I was in for. The legs felt good on the warm-up ride. It was only a little ways so it wouldn't be a problem, I thought. And then I started up L'Alpe d'Huez again.
By the time I reached the first turn, my heart was racing, the legs were screaming and my breathing sounded like a run-away steam engine. But was I going to let a few things like that spoil my plans? Of course not. After a brief rest, I composed myself and settled into a nice easy rhythm and in what seemed like no time, I was ready to turn off onto the balcony road. If the first picture didn't give you the idea of what this road is like, then maybe this one will:
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The legs were telling me this was going to be a short day but I had done the hard work and now could roll along and enjoy the views:
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Instead of doing the longer loop that was originally planned, I eventually turned around, knowing that it was downhill to go home. That included the steep section at the bottom of L'Alpe where I reluctantly used the brakes to stay behind this sloooow car.
And so ended what has been a wonderful and satisfying time riding in the Alps.
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The bike is now packed, some clothes washed and tomorrow morning the trip back to Paris begins with a bus ride to Grenoble. The next post should be from Paris and I'll try to get more pictures uploaded then.
Thanks for all your comments and encouraging emails. They have meant a lot.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
To the top!
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This post is supposed to be a story of struggle and suffering, heroic effort, and eventual triumph. Well, there was the triumph at reaching the finish at the top but, to be honest, it wasn't a struggle at all. I'm exhalerated to have finally accomplished this. I'm not saying it was easy or that my legs aren't a little tired but, all in all, not bad.
Up to the first five (of 21) turns, the climb was, as expected, quite steep. If it continued that way, it would have been a struggle later in the climb. But it became less steep and my lowest gear was just right. Even at my advanced age, I was going faster than some people who didn't have the right gearing. They may have been younger and stronger but, with the wrong gearing, those advantages mean little. I also had the wisdom to stop to take in the view, snap some pictures, and chat with a few people along the way.
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At one point, a man was so intrigued by my Bike Friday that he asked to take a picture of it going around one of the turns. So I went back a ways down the hill and came back up, riding around the corner again so he could get his picture. I had someone take my picture crossing the Tour de France finish line and then it off for a celebratory beer with lunch.
I didn't intend to stop on the descent but the light had changed and the mountains looked even more spectacular.
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Going down was great fun but I did take the turns slowly - no vehicles passed on the way down just as Deborah would like it.
The English cyclists who are staying at the lodge also did the Alpe climb today. Everyone is feeling good about the day and I believe an outing to a nearby bar is about to happen.
L'Alpe d'Huez day
The morning clouds are burning off and sunny, blue sky has appeared. The day is warm but not too hot; a good day to cycle.
Today is the day to go up Alpe d'Huez. I can't believe how nervous and keyed up I am this morning. That will disappear once I get on the bike and I must remember not to go to hard or too fast at the beginning of the climb.
Wish me luck and the good sense to stop and rest along the way.
Today is the day to go up Alpe d'Huez. I can't believe how nervous and keyed up I am this morning. That will disappear once I get on the bike and I must remember not to go to hard or too fast at the beginning of the climb.
Wish me luck and the good sense to stop and rest along the way.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Thoughts of Edward Whymper
The change in the weather today was quite dramatic. In thirty minutes, it went from heavy rain to a beautiful 70 degree sunny day.
The place where I'm staying provides breakfast and dinner along with your room. This is quite common here as guests whether they are hiking, biking or whatever find lunch along the way. Given the changeable weather, I didn't want to get caught out miles from the lodge on the bike and thought an hour walk up the valley to a little village for lunch would a good change of pace. It was a little slippery and muddy and that combined with stops for pictures turned it into more like two hours. When the steep climb from the stream valley to the village was completed, I was tired, hungry and thirsty.
A question to the first person I saw left me quite disappointed to hear that 'tout les restaurants sont fermee'. With the summer season over, this little village had essentially shutdown until the winter ski season. Wandering the streets, I asked several more people, not because I didn't believe them but in the hope that my expressions of how tired and hungry I was would cause them to take pity on me and maybe provide some bread and cheese. No such luck. There was nothing to be done but find the village water fountain (they all have one), refill the water bottle and head back to the lodge (thankfully, downhill).
It was on the way back that I thought about Edward Whymper. My 'Planning' post quoted him finding an inn so disagreeable that he just continued on with his 70 mile walk in the rain at night. What was my little six mile hike compared to that? Of course, when the sky started to darken and a few raindrops began to fall, I wasn't so sanguine. But the clouds passed and soon I was back at the lodge. The owner found plenty of leftovers which were quickly devoured. Then it was a warm shower (yes, the water heater was fixed) followed by a relaxing nap while listening to a few Beethoven piano sonatas on the headphones.
Life is good again.
Today's pictures are now available and I think you'll agree that it was really a nice walk.
The place where I'm staying provides breakfast and dinner along with your room. This is quite common here as guests whether they are hiking, biking or whatever find lunch along the way. Given the changeable weather, I didn't want to get caught out miles from the lodge on the bike and thought an hour walk up the valley to a little village for lunch would a good change of pace. It was a little slippery and muddy and that combined with stops for pictures turned it into more like two hours. When the steep climb from the stream valley to the village was completed, I was tired, hungry and thirsty.
A question to the first person I saw left me quite disappointed to hear that 'tout les restaurants sont fermee'. With the summer season over, this little village had essentially shutdown until the winter ski season. Wandering the streets, I asked several more people, not because I didn't believe them but in the hope that my expressions of how tired and hungry I was would cause them to take pity on me and maybe provide some bread and cheese. No such luck. There was nothing to be done but find the village water fountain (they all have one), refill the water bottle and head back to the lodge (thankfully, downhill).
It was on the way back that I thought about Edward Whymper. My 'Planning' post quoted him finding an inn so disagreeable that he just continued on with his 70 mile walk in the rain at night. What was my little six mile hike compared to that? Of course, when the sky started to darken and a few raindrops began to fall, I wasn't so sanguine. But the clouds passed and soon I was back at the lodge. The owner found plenty of leftovers which were quickly devoured. Then it was a warm shower (yes, the water heater was fixed) followed by a relaxing nap while listening to a few Beethoven piano sonatas on the headphones.
Life is good again.
Today's pictures are now available and I think you'll agree that it was really a nice walk.
Cold water outside and in
The rain that was predicted for yesterday appeared last evening and continues this morning. So me and the eight English cyclists that are also staying here are hanging out, drinking tea and coffee, seeing if there is anything on TV (no), and frequently looking out the windows to see if the rain is letting up at least enough to go for a hike (it hasn't yet). The forecast is for good weather once this storm passes later today. Assuming that is turns out to be correct, tomorrow will be the day for the climb of Alpe d'Huez.
The day is more miserable for the lodge owner. One of the two water heaters failed leaving half the lodge without hot water (including my half). He rushed off to Grenoble after serving breakfast to pick up the needed part before the supplier closes at noon. While diagnosing the problem, he found that the previous owners installed the water heater and then built around it. He had to take a rip saw to the wall to get to the unit just to troubleshoot it. So he has a full house and is on his own to run the lodge while his wife is away on a business trip.
The first batch of photos is now uploaded and available to view here. They aren't labeled yet but if the weather doesn't improve I may have some time to do that.
The broken link in the previous post is fixed now. There were technical problems posting last night but I'll spare you a rant about the proper ways to develop software.
Looking out the window the hopeful claims that the sun has been seen appear to be true. It's time for a short hike up the valley to a nearby village for lunch.
All for now.....
The day is more miserable for the lodge owner. One of the two water heaters failed leaving half the lodge without hot water (including my half). He rushed off to Grenoble after serving breakfast to pick up the needed part before the supplier closes at noon. While diagnosing the problem, he found that the previous owners installed the water heater and then built around it. He had to take a rip saw to the wall to get to the unit just to troubleshoot it. So he has a full house and is on his own to run the lodge while his wife is away on a business trip.
The first batch of photos is now uploaded and available to view here. They aren't labeled yet but if the weather doesn't improve I may have some time to do that.
The broken link in the previous post is fixed now. There were technical problems posting last night but I'll spare you a rant about the proper ways to develop software.
Looking out the window the hopeful claims that the sun has been seen appear to be true. It's time for a short hike up the valley to a nearby village for lunch.
All for now.....
Thursday, September 18, 2008
On the Road
I must admit that before planning this trip, the only things I knew of this area were the ski resorts and the Tour de France climbs. The first tour up Alpe d'Huez in 1952 was done to promote summer visits to the ski resorts. Today's ride stayed in the valley for most of the day until a minor climb tempted me in the afternoon. It was just three miles averaging 10% and, yes, some of the stops really weren't for taking pictures. The ride down the switchbacks was the reward for the climb. I shouldn't say this where Deborah can see it but passing the trucks on the way down was fun (but only when one could see no other traffic). Besides breathing the burning brake smoke wasn't healthy.
In the valley the older roads paralleling the high-traffic main roads were very nice:
Except for the climb, where I rode today was 80 ft under water in the 11th century. A landslide blocked the river between here and Grenoble and for a while Bourg d'Oisans was called Saint Laurant du Lac (St. Lawrence of the Lake). In September 1229, that natural dam broke sending a destructive wave that destroyed everything in its path including parts of Grenoble miles downstream.
Moving from natural to human history, a memorial to French resistance fighters killed in World War II was one destination today.
These mountains have been used as a refuge over the centuries and that was the case when Germany invaded France. Jews fled from Paris and other German occupied areas to Grenoble and the Oisans mountains, which were occupied by the Italians who were less repressive than the Germans. These mountains were also a refuge for young Frenchmen fleeing the German Obligatory Work Service (Service du Travail Obligatoire or STO) that forced some French to work in Germany supporting its war effort. Those young men and others formed what is known as the Maquis to resist the occupation of France. Once the Italians signed the armistice with the Allies in September 1943, German forces moved into this area and the resistance became more serious and more deadly. When German troops left the Bourg d'Oisans valley for the last time in August 1944, civilians and suspected Maqui were killed along the way. The effect of these events on one man's family can be read here.
It's after dinner and the rain is pouring down. I suspect I'll have time to post a few pictures in the morning.
In the valley the older roads paralleling the high-traffic main roads were very nice:
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Except for the climb, where I rode today was 80 ft under water in the 11th century. A landslide blocked the river between here and Grenoble and for a while Bourg d'Oisans was called Saint Laurant du Lac (St. Lawrence of the Lake). In September 1229, that natural dam broke sending a destructive wave that destroyed everything in its path including parts of Grenoble miles downstream.
Moving from natural to human history, a memorial to French resistance fighters killed in World War II was one destination today.
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These mountains have been used as a refuge over the centuries and that was the case when Germany invaded France. Jews fled from Paris and other German occupied areas to Grenoble and the Oisans mountains, which were occupied by the Italians who were less repressive than the Germans. These mountains were also a refuge for young Frenchmen fleeing the German Obligatory Work Service (Service du Travail Obligatoire or STO) that forced some French to work in Germany supporting its war effort. Those young men and others formed what is known as the Maquis to resist the occupation of France. Once the Italians signed the armistice with the Allies in September 1943, German forces moved into this area and the resistance became more serious and more deadly. When German troops left the Bourg d'Oisans valley for the last time in August 1944, civilians and suspected Maqui were killed along the way. The effect of these events on one man's family can be read here.
It's after dinner and the rain is pouring down. I suspect I'll have time to post a few pictures in the morning.
Sunny but in a fog
The weather predictions were wrong and I woke up outside of Bourg d'Oisans to a sunny morning. My body still thinks it is 3am and I'm looking forward to getting on the bike and moving the legs and feeling fresh air in the face. Here is what I saw stepping out the front door:
I took a local bus from Grenoble last night, stopping every few minutes. The regular local passengers didn't seem to notice the spectacular scenery on the way. Soaring mountains, narrow valleys with rushing streams - just beautiful. I'd forgotten just how steep and high the mountains were. It will be a challenge.
Time to get moving.
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I took a local bus from Grenoble last night, stopping every few minutes. The regular local passengers didn't seem to notice the spectacular scenery on the way. Soaring mountains, narrow valleys with rushing streams - just beautiful. I'd forgotten just how steep and high the mountains were. It will be a challenge.
Time to get moving.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
In Paris
Here I am in Paris (well, at the airport) still awake and ready for the next leg. The bike and everything else arrived safe and sound. Bus tickets to town and some coffee and pastry have been successfully purchased all in French. Whew!
The trip was surprisingly routine with just a tiny bit of drama at check-in and one surprise. The drama didn't come from traveling with the bike; the agent was only concerned about weight and it is 10lbs under the limit. But, as I feared from online check-in, my seat assignment was messed up. I paid for an upgraded seat with more room but they didn't have one and had me in regular economy. Everyone agreed that they had sold me the seat but couldn't do anything about it. Unlike a few others, I was polite with the service people and just before boarding they found me a fine window seat in the proper section. I was going to be on the plane but the question was where so no real problem.
I never have understood people who abuse and insult the service people. Why tic off the person who you want to help you. Honey is always better than vinegar, I say.
The surprise? After boarding, a familiar face was heading down the aisle. Lisa W, a former co-worker was on her way with a friend to a wedding in the Loire Valley. We had a good chat and I pretended to be interested in what was going on at my old office. We'll both be in Paris next Monday evening and will try to get together for dinner then.
Later....
The trip was surprisingly routine with just a tiny bit of drama at check-in and one surprise. The drama didn't come from traveling with the bike; the agent was only concerned about weight and it is 10lbs under the limit. But, as I feared from online check-in, my seat assignment was messed up. I paid for an upgraded seat with more room but they didn't have one and had me in regular economy. Everyone agreed that they had sold me the seat but couldn't do anything about it. Unlike a few others, I was polite with the service people and just before boarding they found me a fine window seat in the proper section. I was going to be on the plane but the question was where so no real problem.
I never have understood people who abuse and insult the service people. Why tic off the person who you want to help you. Honey is always better than vinegar, I say.
The surprise? After boarding, a familiar face was heading down the aisle. Lisa W, a former co-worker was on her way with a friend to a wedding in the Loire Valley. We had a good chat and I pretended to be interested in what was going on at my old office. We'll both be in Paris next Monday evening and will try to get together for dinner then.
Later....
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Packing....
Traveling light is one of the best and most common recommendations. I've traveled to Europe for up to three weeks with just a small suitcase and a backpack:
This trip is much different with a bike and all the biking stuff that I'm taking:
Ugh...hauling all of this around airports and bus/train stations is going to be a pain. That black case contains the bike which looked like this a few hours ago:
And now looks like this inside its case:
Pretty cool I think.
Are all these within the increasingly restricted baggage limits? Two bags, under 50lbs each is the limit but is the bike case within the size limits. I say it is but in a few hours we'll find out what the airline thinks. Lots of potential blog material there. Let's hope I have nothing to write about.
It's off to the airport in less than an hour and when I post next depends on WiFi connections along the way. It may well be after I arrive at the lodge more than 24 hours from now.
Oh, the weather report for Thursday, the first planned day of biking: 100% chance of rain. Stay tuned....
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And now looks like this inside its case:
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Pretty cool I think.
Are all these within the increasingly restricted baggage limits? Two bags, under 50lbs each is the limit but is the bike case within the size limits. I say it is but in a few hours we'll find out what the airline thinks. Lots of potential blog material there. Let's hope I have nothing to write about.
It's off to the airport in less than an hour and when I post next depends on WiFi connections along the way. It may well be after I arrive at the lodge more than 24 hours from now.
Oh, the weather report for Thursday, the first planned day of biking: 100% chance of rain. Stay tuned....
Sunday, September 14, 2008
The Beginnings....
Anyone who knows me knows that I have been bicycling for a long time. But many people ride bicycles and would never think, or if they did, want, to go to France just to ride up a mountain. So how did that desire begin? We’ll need to go back a few decades to discover how my first exposure to the Tour de France happened. The story begins in 1971. Let’s return to that time.
Lance Armstrong wasn’t born yet. Greg LeMond, another successful American cyclist, was ten years old and would not ride the Tour de France for another thirteen years. It would be ten more years before Jonathan Boyers became the first American to ride in the Tour de France. In the US, a brief bicycle boom was underway with sales up 200% and manufacturers unable to keep up with demand. Among those who had ten-speed bikes and loved riding them were Dave K. and I. Dave and I began riding together that summer on break from college.
Now Dave had a girl friend with a summer job at Chautauqua, NY, about 100 miles from our hometown. That meant that Dave and his girl friend were 100 miles apart. We both had summer jobs but when we both had two days off, Dave suggested we bike to Chautauqua to see her. And so we did: one day there, an evening partying, a short night’s sleep, a day riding the 100 miles home, and then back to work. A virtue of being young is that your body tolerates the foolish things your mind makes it do.
Somewhere on the road on the way back, Dave said, “Wouldn’t it be great to do this in Europe?” “It sure would!” I said while silently dismissing that completely impractical notion. Dave was perfectly serious, or more accurately, took this idea to be quite matter-of-fact. Over the next few months he spoke of biking in France in 1972 as a fait accompli (have to get some French in this blog). And soon I began to think it might be possible.
For Dave, dreams and doing weren’t separate concepts. A few years later, Dave got it in his head that he was going to work for Disney. So he took off for Orlando, Florida giving Disney no advanced notice that he was coming and that they were going to employ him. He had a very successful career with them with his fluent French helping them establish EuroDisney near Paris.
By the spring of 1972, the plans were made. With a year of college left, I should have been returning to the glass block factory to earn money. Instead, Dave and I would fly to Paris, ride our bikes to Madrid and return to Paris two months later. My parents were probably horrified but only expressed their dismay with questions like “How are you going to afford college next year?” But by then Dave’s reality had become mine and I would mumble a reply and do my best to ignore their questions.
On June 22, as Hurricane Agnes began to produce heavy rain, Dave’s dad, Dek, and his brother Kevin drove us to the airport in New York, fording roads covered with water along the way. The trip to Paris was uneventful and soon we were cycling out of Paris blissfully unaware of what was going on back home. Things weren’t so blissful there.
Once we left town, no one knew what had happened to us or to Dek and Kevin. The floods had severed communications, rumors spread of cars swept away by the waters, and there was no word. Had we been swept away by flood waters? Did we make it to the airport? Where were Dave’s father and brother? Only after days of worry was Dek able to send word that we were on our way and they were safe but blocked by flood waters a hundred miles from home.
Dave and I had no such worries as we made our way from Paris through the Loire Valley to the Atlantic coast of France. It was there that we began to see signs like this as we rode.
(Note: this sign was removed after the Tour passed - if they went off course it wasn't our fault.)
The signs and the answers to Dave’s French queries told us that we were a few days ahead of the Tour de France who were heading down the coast as we were. Each day the racers came closer to catching us and finally on July 6 in Bordeaux, they did. There we joined the French standing beside the road to see them pass.
(I have no explanations for the various ways the racers wore their caps! Sideways?)
With that brief glimpse and awed by the thought of racing for weeks and thousands of miles, the seed for a trip thirty-six years later was planted.
(Since you’re dying to know, Walter Godefroot won the stage from Royan to Bordeaux that day. Eddie Merckx, the best cyclist ever in my opinion, went on to win the Tour for the fourth time that year.)
Lance Armstrong wasn’t born yet. Greg LeMond, another successful American cyclist, was ten years old and would not ride the Tour de France for another thirteen years. It would be ten more years before Jonathan Boyers became the first American to ride in the Tour de France. In the US, a brief bicycle boom was underway with sales up 200% and manufacturers unable to keep up with demand. Among those who had ten-speed bikes and loved riding them were Dave K. and I. Dave and I began riding together that summer on break from college.
Now Dave had a girl friend with a summer job at Chautauqua, NY, about 100 miles from our hometown. That meant that Dave and his girl friend were 100 miles apart. We both had summer jobs but when we both had two days off, Dave suggested we bike to Chautauqua to see her. And so we did: one day there, an evening partying, a short night’s sleep, a day riding the 100 miles home, and then back to work. A virtue of being young is that your body tolerates the foolish things your mind makes it do.
Somewhere on the road on the way back, Dave said, “Wouldn’t it be great to do this in Europe?” “It sure would!” I said while silently dismissing that completely impractical notion. Dave was perfectly serious, or more accurately, took this idea to be quite matter-of-fact. Over the next few months he spoke of biking in France in 1972 as a fait accompli (have to get some French in this blog). And soon I began to think it might be possible.
For Dave, dreams and doing weren’t separate concepts. A few years later, Dave got it in his head that he was going to work for Disney. So he took off for Orlando, Florida giving Disney no advanced notice that he was coming and that they were going to employ him. He had a very successful career with them with his fluent French helping them establish EuroDisney near Paris.
By the spring of 1972, the plans were made. With a year of college left, I should have been returning to the glass block factory to earn money. Instead, Dave and I would fly to Paris, ride our bikes to Madrid and return to Paris two months later. My parents were probably horrified but only expressed their dismay with questions like “How are you going to afford college next year?” But by then Dave’s reality had become mine and I would mumble a reply and do my best to ignore their questions.
On June 22, as Hurricane Agnes began to produce heavy rain, Dave’s dad, Dek, and his brother Kevin drove us to the airport in New York, fording roads covered with water along the way. The trip to Paris was uneventful and soon we were cycling out of Paris blissfully unaware of what was going on back home. Things weren’t so blissful there.
Once we left town, no one knew what had happened to us or to Dek and Kevin. The floods had severed communications, rumors spread of cars swept away by the waters, and there was no word. Had we been swept away by flood waters? Did we make it to the airport? Where were Dave’s father and brother? Only after days of worry was Dek able to send word that we were on our way and they were safe but blocked by flood waters a hundred miles from home.
Dave and I had no such worries as we made our way from Paris through the Loire Valley to the Atlantic coast of France. It was there that we began to see signs like this as we rode.
 |
The signs and the answers to Dave’s French queries told us that we were a few days ahead of the Tour de France who were heading down the coast as we were. Each day the racers came closer to catching us and finally on July 6 in Bordeaux, they did. There we joined the French standing beside the road to see them pass.
 |
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With that brief glimpse and awed by the thought of racing for weeks and thousands of miles, the seed for a trip thirty-six years later was planted.
(Since you’re dying to know, Walter Godefroot won the stage from Royan to Bordeaux that day. Eddie Merckx, the best cyclist ever in my opinion, went on to win the Tour for the fourth time that year.)
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Trip Planning
Every traveler has a different balance for how much of a trip is planned. Some like every moment to be scheduled; a much smaller number set out with no reservations and no itinerary. Me? I like to know I’ll have a clean bed to sleep in, expect to be fed regularly, like to know something about where I’m going and want to have destinations in mind to provide structure. Riding up Alpe d’Huez will satisfy a long-standing desire and is the excuse for this trip. But I expect the unexpected encounters, events, and sights will be the most memorable moments. Given all that, some planning was necessary to eliminate nasty surprises or misunderstandings. Here, for what it may be worth for your next trip, is how I planned for this one.
A good map is always handy so I first consulted the Peutinger map that, as a medieval copy of a 3rd century Roman map, I thought would be authoritative. Bourg d’Oisans at the foot of Alpe d’Huez, where I will be riding, can be clearly seen with its former name of Cantorrium.
I had my doubts on how helpful this would be on the bike and looked for additional resources.
The Illustrations of the Passes of the Alps, Brockenton (1836) mentions but didn’t highly recommend this hotel near Bourg d’Oisans:
The thought of dining that includes cutting bread with a hatchet led me to look elsewhere.
Edward Whymper, a mountaineer who led the first ascent of the Matterhorn, passed through this area in 1860. He was even less encouraging:
Bad food, bad company and bedbugs: Maybe this trip wasn’t such a good idea after all.
But things began to look up after consulting Murray’s Handbook for Travellers in France (1856) which had good general advice regarding travel in France.
These kinds of delays, thank goodness, never happen with modern air travel. But maybe I should put the servants on notice just in case.
Okay, make sure to pack soap. And a picture of the floors being cleaned with brushes on the feet should make a nice souvenir. Oh, and I must remind the servants to clean my shoes thoroughly each night.
Nobody is going to take advantage of me with an a la carte menu!
Must remember to take that anger management course before the trip.
I’ll be near Mont Pelvoux and the Ecrins National Park so this sounded promising:
I was planning to stay in the Val Christophe and to bike up to Berarde but I’m not sure how the bike will perform in the snow. Sounds like a tourist on a folding bike will be quite a surprise to the locals.
At last, The Travellers Guide to Switzerland and the Alps (1858) had some additional helpful information about this area and suggested a place to stay.
Note to self: pack soap and meat as well as a hatchet for cutting bread.
I’ve heard there is a new-fangled source for information called the Internet so I also gave that a try. Regarding the climb from Bourg d’Oisans to Alpe d’Huez that is the main excuse for this trip, www.eztrip.com says:
Credits: Google Books has digitized many out-of-copyright books and is a great source for historical research and insights (even if the tourist advice is a little out of date). Many useful and interesting books that formerly gathered dust on library shelves are now searchable and accessible. Books that used to take weeks to receive through Interlibrary Loan (if you remember that) are now readily available.
A good map is always handy so I first consulted the Peutinger map that, as a medieval copy of a 3rd century Roman map, I thought would be authoritative. Bourg d’Oisans at the foot of Alpe d’Huez, where I will be riding, can be clearly seen with its former name of Cantorrium.
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| From The Dancing Chain |
I had my doubts on how helpful this would be on the bike and looked for additional resources.
The Illustrations of the Passes of the Alps, Brockenton (1836) mentions but didn’t highly recommend this hotel near Bourg d’Oisans:
 |
| From The Dancing Chain |
Edward Whymper, a mountaineer who led the first ascent of the Matterhorn, passed through this area in 1860. He was even less encouraging:
The weather was again bad, and …I was forced to seek shelter in the wretched little hospice. It was filled with workmen who were employed on the road, and with noxious vapors which proceeded from them. The inclemency of the weather was preferable to the inhospitality of the interior. Outside, it was disagreeable, but grand--inside, it was disagreeable and mean. The walk was continued under a deluge of rain….He adds in Scrambles Amongst the Alps, 1860-65:
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| From The Dancing Chain |
But things began to look up after consulting Murray’s Handbook for Travellers in France (1856) which had good general advice regarding travel in France.
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| From The Dancing Chain |
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| From The Dancing Chain |
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| From The Dancing Chain |
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| From The Dancing Chain |
I’ll be near Mont Pelvoux and the Ecrins National Park so this sounded promising:
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| From The Dancing Chain |
At last, The Travellers Guide to Switzerland and the Alps (1858) had some additional helpful information about this area and suggested a place to stay.
 |
| From The Dancing Chain |
I’ve heard there is a new-fangled source for information called the Internet so I also gave that a try. Regarding the climb from Bourg d’Oisans to Alpe d’Huez that is the main excuse for this trip, www.eztrip.com says:
One place you're unlikely to be cycling to is the ski resort of L'ALPE D'HUEZ , signposted just outside Le Bourg.This clearly was not going to be any help at all. It was time to stop planning and just go.
Credits: Google Books has digitized many out-of-copyright books and is a great source for historical research and insights (even if the tourist advice is a little out of date). Many useful and interesting books that formerly gathered dust on library shelves are now searchable and accessible. Books that used to take weeks to receive through Interlibrary Loan (if you remember that) are now readily available.
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