It’s a long way there

 I was predictably unable to sleep and was up rather early to shower and get a few things in order in the dark while Brother Matt continued his slumber.  Went down to the lobby at about 06h30 learn that the breakfast service commenced at 07h00.  Being early in Paris is apparently not a thing, as even by 07h00 the readiness was not quite ready.  But I did get to place my order, the basket of patisseries was limited as the waitress had yet to go to the Boulangerie for the morning’s supplies.  Nevertheless, once things started to catch up I did enjoy another wonderful “continental breakfast”, which has been a very nice touch at Les Bains et Douches as organized by the fantastic tour organizers Dave and Dana Lougheed.  Brother Matt came down after a while and it wasn’t until after that that I noticed the inside of the cap of my marmalade  was a bit off (leaky seal), which caused me to suffer some anxiety for the balance of the day and long flight home, but no harm no foul!  Otherwise, the b’fast has been great throughout.  After that, it was fairly short work to finish packing and make our way to nearby Les Halles/Chatalet station and board the TGV to CDG without any difficulty.  There was a minor delay enroute which caused us to have to switch trains, but other passengers were very helpful in translating the announcement and getting us on the right replacement train.  At CDG really early, before WestJet had set up their check in counter.  It was by no means obvious how the CDG airport is laid out, but we did find where we needed to be and were able to let Myles and Karen know where we were for check in - not that it mattered as their Uber driver wound up being not too savvy about CDG.  They found us in due course nevertheless, and we got all checked in and then stumbled and fumbled through airport security, border control and a bus transfer to get us to Hall M of Terminal 2E, all carried out by feel as no where to be found was any form of instruction.  As Myles pointed out, the French have little patience for anyone who doesn’t know what they are doing.  The rest of the process was very smooth and we had a comfortable but lengthy direct flight to Calgary, only to be greeted with a heavy dose of winter upon arrival.

Thankfully, Denise was able to collect us all and deliver us home.  As I always say, h/t to Dad resting peacefully alongside Mom, Great trip, glad to be home.

Last day in Paris

 I was well rested, Brother Matt - not so much.  Karen and Myles were keen to marche up and down Champs Élysées and see the Arc de Triomphe, but that was too far for me.  So I just went out to further explore the area around Les Bains et Douches.  Upon return, Matt was still prone, didn’t arise until well past noon.  We checked out Le Porte Saint Denis which is a big archway that was part of the cite wall originally.  Found an all day b’fast place where Brother Matt could get some eggs (15h00). Ultimately, after a very low energy day, we met Karen and Myles at Freddy’s over in St. Germain for a couple of glasses of wine and some tapa style presentations. Myles got a message from some other friends who are in Paris so he and his Mom were of to the Metro to seek them out at some sort of cocktail bar while I made an emergency stop at the Aussie Bar and Brother Matt arranged for a cleansing Ale to wrap up the trip, and then we were off to an ETB (relatively).

Semi-Final #2

 I was up early and feeling fine down for the continental b’fast at Les Bains-Douches, had a visit with our gracious tour director, Dave Lougheed.  Heard from Matthew that they were enroute to CDG in a very sketchy Uber and had some concerns that they might be stranded if it broke down.  They did limp their way there and the rest of the journey home went smoothly and on time and they were welcomed home by a happy Theodore.  Once I got brother Matt mobilized, we commenced a very circuitous route to meet Myles and Karen at Le Relais de l’Entrecote in St. Germain for a great meal of Steak Frites with some nice wine (we were informed by our waitress that the first bottle was much better than the second, and on should never downgrade when drinking wine).  The desserts were also exceptional from this fixed menu establishment, and I did get quite the sideways glance for not finishing my chocolate!  Next stop was the Comptoir Avente bar au vin for a bit more grape juice.  Matt and I had to scurry back to the hotel to get ready for the match du rugby and meet up with the privateers one last time at the Frog.  With our previous days learnings on getting to Stade de France on the train, this trip went much smoother.  Our seats this time were once more in the lower bowl, in goal at the corner, but across the field from Friday nights game.  Also, were part of a larger group of privateers which made it fun in our bright red jackets and orange berets.  

England lead for most of the game on the back of penalties and a drop goal, but succumbed in the end to a more fluent Sprinbok side 15-16.  Train back to Les Halles uneventful, but I did forget my FTLOTG flask which I was forced to check because the security guard deemed it to be a likely projectile.  I have to note that the security at the three games I’ve attended has been inconsistent, to say the least.  Anyway, back to the Frog for a beer and grabbed a kebab across the street and my night was fini, bid Brother Matt the Irish good night and retired to Les Bain.  Myles will fill in the blanks from their adventure, which apparently wrapped up at the Ritz?

For the Love of the Game

 Awoke abruptly after too few hours of slumber to realize we had only 45 minutes until our meeting time at the Louvre. Brother Matt and I got up and out very quickly with a very petit dejeuner at Les Bains. Managed to get La Louvre right at 09h30, and queued up with the throng.  Karen, Myles, Matthew and Alex were way ahead of us somewhere and we had some catching up to do.  The line moved fairly quickly and we did catch up to them after seeing Mona Lisa (which was considerably larger than my memory had suggested?), but then immediately got separated again. Shortly thereafter, I lost track of Brother Matt too and wandered solo through the monstrously large museum. After about three hours, the call came in to head out, no mean feat in its own right.  Outside, regrouped with Matt at least and found our way to Le Zimmer where we found the rest of the touring party and settled in for a great bowl of Onion Soup and  a Croc Monsieur. Back to the hotel(s) for a nap ahead of the late night match at Stade de France - home of Rugby in France.  Met up with the other 70 or so privateers in the lobby bar adorned in the Mountie get up which made for quite a sight wandering through the early evening streets of Paris.

 Got to the requisite Station (Chatelet-Les Halles) and after some confusion, the lead Privateer (Logger) managed to get tickets for everyone (more on that later), we were off like a herd of turtles wandering around in circle trying to find our way to the RER D platform Nord.  Got aboard for the relatively short ride to Stade and somewhat lengthy walk from the station.  Got some Asahi and milled about waiting for the gates to open, and from there, into the impressive Stade de France.

 Our tickets in goal and down low made for some exciting moments with scores in the corner and a world wide showing of the Mountie on the big screen (lots of people back home noticed Brother Matt on TV). The AB’s dispatched the woeful Argies 44-6 with a display of pace and power that whoever they meet next is likely to have some trouble with.  We exited the stadium a couple of minutes before full time and made our way back to the platform.  I went through the gate problem free with my return ticked provided by Logger, but Matt’s didn’t seem to be working.  I passed him a couple of tickets I had, which didn’t work either.  So Matt was off to the service desk for an interminable length of time while I stood around fretting and wondering where he had gotten to.  Some excitement while I was waiting saw a group of the heavily armed police suddenly break into a run towards the platforms.  That distracted me enough to lose sight of Matt completely and caused some anxiety that he may have somehow slipped by me.  But he turned up eventually with a newly purchased ticket and no clear understanding of why the ticket he had didn’t work?  On board, we were inspecting all the tickets Matt had in his wallet trying to discern the difference to no avail.  But sadly, that would be the last we saw of the wallet as it was either lifted or left behind on the seat. That sad state of affairs truly put a damper on and already damp evening and we managed to get some help from the service desk to get out and report the loss.  Not really too keen at that stage, we trudged past Le Frog and made our way back to Les Bains where we saw some privateers in the lobby bar but took the decision to just get into the room and commence cancellation of credit cards.  Tagged the other touring party who remained out for dinner at La Petit Port Rouge (little red door) at the late hour confirming that Parisians party late into the night.  Settled in for a relatively ETB, at least a sober one!

Two days in Paris

 I was not up to posting yesterday morning, nor this morning.  A consequence of the excitement of arriving in Gay Paris!  We were up and ready for the transfer that Flo had coordinated for us to get up to Gare Part Dieu in plenty of time for the train to Paris. Everything proceeded smoothly until we got to Gare Aeroport and reached out to our driver coordinated by Pam, but through Sun Transfers.  Hamid was not able to meet us at the station for some reason and we scrambled around a bit to track him down at Departure Gate D.  Relieved to have found him, we piled in to the van for easy drive to the Excelsior Opera.  The hotel entrance and lobby was a bit sketchy, but rooms are clean and comfortable.  I abandoned the clan there and made my way en pied through the drizzling rain for 30 minutes to find the much more pleasant FTLOTG hotel - Les Bains-Douches.  The room I share with Brother Matt was not quite ready, so I retired to the lobby bar for a biere ou duex.  As the FTLOTG Privateers trickled in, became re-acquainted with several and met new friends on the tour.  And so commenced what was to be a long evening. Myles had a reservation at Frenchie with his workmate Amanda and her partner Taylor, and we were able to walk up to the affiliated Frenchie Bar au Vins. Got a sidewalk table and enjoyed a fabulous meal (Scallops followed by delicious Monk Fish) at this popular restaurant

- we might have fared better than Myles did with his proper reservation at the main restaurant.  After dinner, we made our way to meet up with the entourage having taken up residence at Le Frog et Rosbiff, another legendary episode ensued capped off with a visit to a local McD’s for a Big Mac (Mac Royalle?) at an hour I’m not really used to experiencing! Brother Matt and I stumbled back to Les Bains while K et al hopped in an Uber back to their hotel.  Upon arriving at Les Bain circa 02h00, we were surprised to see a large crowd gathered on the street outside our hotel.  They were awaiting the doors to the basement nightclub to open at 2 am?!?  Needless to say, I slept in a bit.  Day two found us linking up with the kids and wandering the streets of Paris until time for our reservation at Pink Momma.

 Notable for the sign indicating it is not a strip club!  Had a great lunch and then made our way up the hill to Sacre Coeurs, a spectacular basilique overlooking the city scape of Paris.  Time was running out so Brother Matt and I jumped on the Metro and found our way back to Reaumur-Sebastopol station and then to our hotel.  Had to get ready quickly for the formal dinner at L’Escarmouche, we linked up with the Privateers back at Le Frog et Rosbiff for pre-drinks.  Then the long walk to the Seine, across Ile de Cite and up a hill to a very fine dining experience in a Cave!  

Our table mates were Rob and Lee Moffat and we had a convivial evening.  Afterwards, with one stop for a biere with new friends, we relocated to Le Frog and closed it down once more after making last call for 30 pints.  Wound up having to share with random strangers passing by.  The kids did their own thing at Les Parisiennes and we will reconnect with them next day for a visit to Le Louvre.

Golden Stones of Beaujolais

 We were up and on the 08:26 #8 bus to Perrache and stroll down Victor Hugo with a croissant in hand to meet our tour guide at the Place Bellecour.  Agathe arrived right on time and got us 5 and another 3 participants (Cape Town, Melbourne and Tokyo) loaded into a comfortable van for the 45 minute trip to St. Laurent D’Oingt Chapel overlooking Les Beaujolais des Pierres Dorees.  Known as Golden Stones for the iron tinted sandstone building blocks used in antiquity to originally build the hilltop fortress of Oingt across the valley from the chapel and cemetery.  Agathe had stopped briefly to gather some patisserie at the local boulangerie in Oingt and we tasted some white, rose and red wine from Beaujolais with commentary about the wine and region.  

Truly a spectacular view of the vineyards along the hillsides and the village atop the hill.  Next stop was a walk through the ancient and preserved village where we saw the remnants of the original fortress walls and garrison, plus later additions from the Middle Ages.  The tiny church was very interesting and again, spectacular views.  Next up, the vineyard and winery of Dominique Guillard, current proprietor of a many generational family farm operation that has been making wine by hand for centuries.  With explanations in the vineyard and tasting room from Dominique himself, aptly translated by Agathe, this wine tour that Matthew had arranged turned out to be one for the memory banks!  Back in the van for the return drive to Bellecour where we followed Agathe’s recommendation and found L’Atelier d’Yvonne - mostly by feel as we looked for the “painter’s palette” as described.  We had a lovely lunch there before embarking on yet another aimless stroll through Vieux Lyon, until we located the print store where K found the treasure she had been hoping for to commemorate our visitation in Lyon.  The long walk back to the barge found the tourists tired but too late for a nap as we had to turn it around abruptly to grab an Uber up to Croix-Rousse neighborhood via a serpentine drive to find Bouchon Daniel and Denise -

perhaps the number one culinary experience we’ve enjoyed while on our tour gastronomie coordinated by Myles.  We’ve had a very full week here in Lyon and put in a lot of steps.  The Barge has been more than satisfactory in spite of the crawly things.  Hosts Flo and Gil have provided support above and beyond expectations and we’ve been very comfortable and were glad to be able to accommodate Ashton for a couple of days in the middle, his company was really a pleasure.

Monday, Monday

 Well, the tourists were in need of a down day, we had a very slow start.  Eventually, the team mustered the energy to hop on the #8 to Perrache and wander up the Saone a ways in search for the Musee Cinema et Miniature.  Turned out to be worth the effort for this little attraction boasting memorabilia from movie set designers, including reconstructed actual sets from famous films.  Prompted some interest in seeking out movies represented there (i.e. Perfume).  The miniature exhibits were really fascinating, as were the presentations about make up art.  Afterwards, we stumbled upon Sol Cafe with offerings of Moule et Frite, which was appealing to me and we had a very pleasant lunch (and avoided a bout of Fatigue, Afame et Soif). Afterwards, we wandered across the Saone to inspect La Fresque des Canuts, which is apparently the largest in Europe and represents the story of silk workers at Lyon.

 Hopped aboard the Metro to Perrache and transferred to the #8 back to the Barge, the tourists nestled into a well earned nap.  As the afternoon waned into evening, there was no sign of interest in the thought of venturing back out for dinner.  So we opted (sadly) for delivery of some Greek style pita wraps, which after the culinary experiences we’ve had was positively disappointing. No matter, with energy levels still at historic lows, ETB it was…

Slow day in Lyon

 After the big day in Marseille, the tourists weren’t off to an overly active start.  It seemed a good day to get some laundry dealt with so after a couple of missteps with the “French Laundry” (translation issues), we were able to use the machines on the Barge.  At around noon, I embarked on a walk into Vieux Lyon with Myles and Ashton where I managed to get some cash and groceries.  Walked back to the Barge spent the rest of the afternoon helping out with chores while the kids were in town on separate adventures further exploring this lovely French city - and it is lovely.  Alex has remarked a number of times how safe and clean the community is. We’ve really enjoyed our time here.  I let the tourists know that my intent was to get in front of a TV for the two remaining quarter finals. So a plan was hatched for me to Uber down to the Elephant and Castle (which worked - Yeah) for the England v Fiji test and link up at our dinner reservation thereafter as the restaurant was conveniently located only a few hundred meters away.  I managed to get a seat and the match was very entertaining, especially the anti-english cheers for Fiji when they drew level late in the second half.  England managed to escape with a win (30-24) after a less than inspiring performance.  

I briskly walked over to Brasserie Bouillon Baratte with a couple of wrong turns and found the touring party had established a position.  Had a really great meal (my favourite so far) and enjoyed some wine until it was time for Matthew and I to head back to the pub for Match #2 - France v South Africa.  We set up camp outside in front of a window and surrounded by boisterous French fans in full voice.  

An absolute ripper of a match with the Boks prevailing at the death under a French onslaught 29-28.  Conversion charge down by Chelsin Kolbe proved to be decisive.  Reconnected with the rest of the touring party at Le Dome with an assist from the Maître ‘D for a nightcap before heading back to the Barge to wrap up a great rugby day in Lyon.

RWC in Marseille

 We made the 8:06 am departure from Part Dieu with time to spare after a very early pick up at the barge (very slightly delayed).  Train ride to Marseille was quick an efficient and we arrived right on time (gotta love European rail systems - when not on strike!).  Met Brother Matt and Denise at the Gare St. Charles who had arrived via bus after their train was cancelled due to a strike!  Thankfully, they were close enough and nimble enough to effect the change.  As is his wont, Brother Matt had some ideas about what to see in Marseille, so were were off on our self guided walking tour.  We wandered down via Vieux Port and up through the Panier where Myles found the most well hidden cafe imaginable (he is good at that!).  After topping up on stimulants, we continued up and over and down to the Cathedral Sainte Marie-Majeure by the marina entrance, a relatively modern (late nineteenth century) minor Basilica.  Around the modern architecture and up to the sky walk with a stop to bring our stimulants and depressants into a balance on the terrace.  Walked across the high bridge and proceeded to mis-navigate the labyrinthine sortie, but we eventually found our way back down to Vieux Port and strolled by Les Galinettes Chez Madie where were had been teased about a reservation for bouillabaisse, and ultimately denied.  Through the FanZone and along through the throngs we struggled to find a way to get to the Metro 2 leading to the Velodrome.  Once we had walked halfway there, we found the M2 station and were sardined (quite literally) into a coach.  We arrived in plenty of time to grab a Biere et Chien Chaud (with the beer, I negotiated a great ball cap from the Asahi biere pression vendor).

We were pleased to find our souvenir cups could be refilled by a walk about keg!  The festival grounds were great fun, particularly the unusual outdoor urinals (in front of God and everybody).  Into the stands, we located our great seats and the Wales v Argentina match ensued - what a game and an historic win for the Argies (29-17).

 I was relieved that the game wasn’t tied at full time and we five scurried out just before 80 minutes and hurried to the Metro.  Managed to get aboard without as much fuss (phew!) and made it back to Gare St. Charles in plenty of time for a Carl’s Jr. (how gauche).  The train back to Lyon was once more right on time and we made it to a pub in time to meet Ashton for most of the second half of the late game from Stade de France.  After bringing good luck to the Argies by wearing their colours in Marseille, I hoped for a repeat adorned with my Ireland jersey, not to be the outcome - sadly.  All Blacks pulled off the upset with a well won penalty to deny Ireland the try they needed to win.  A great contest, hugely disappointing to the Irish.  Uber back to the Barge seamless this time and we retired after a very long and eventful day!

Still exploring Lyon

We had a very slow start on this day, after the petit dejeuner, the touring party fractured with Matthew and Alex off to do some treasure seeking.  Myles, K and I found Place de Terraux and the Musee des Beaux-Arts, were we had a self guided tour.  Across the Place was a large fountain which I did not get a name for, but of a Woman and Child in a chariot?

Also at this Place was the opera, quite a beautiful building. Afterwards, we wandered along the Rhone to Hotel Dieu to find Le Dome.  Per usual, closed when we got there.  Fatigue, Afame et Soif again, we were directed to the Pino Pizza around the corner as a possibility that ignores Lyonnaise tradition.  Reconnected with the shoppers after their successful activity and shared a light lunch.  Upon the 3 o’clock hour, we made our way back to Le Dome for a valuable cocktail which improved Myles’ mood immeasurably.  C’est magnifique!  Next stop,

Perrache where we met Myles childhood close friend Ashton who now lives in Leeds but was in Paris for a conference.  Grabbed the 8 to the Barge and prepared a charcuterie and enjoyed visiting with Ashton.  When it came time to head out for dinner, Myles discovered tiny little hole in the wall (literally) in his inimitable fashion and we were able to hail an Uber to take us there.  Sadly, the tiny room was full, and a second choice also complet, we walked around the corner to Bouchon Palais Grillet

, which had a table available.  The Specialites Lyonnaises, not so special, I’ll leave it at that, but otherwise a lovely evening and Ashton was able to hail an Uber (same one!) to ferry us home.  Had to be Ashton, whatever is going on with my technology, I couldn’t get a response.

Lyon dans le bicyclette

 Everyone managed to rise without too much prodding after a long day.  Nice to have some more conventional b’fast fixins (yoghurt and such) before departing the Barge.  On the #8 to Perrache once more where we disembarked and walked along the Saone rive adroit to find our guides Pierre and Amillee close to but not precisely at the prescribed meeting point.  After I tested out the public facility (no one else dared - good thing), we connected with some additional folks and we were off along the bike lane headed north along the Saone.  

After a couple of stops where Pierre pointed out some of the history of Lyon (notably the Basilique Notre Dame de Fourviere being on top of an unstable hill that is at risk of a major slide), we arrived at Parc Tete d’Or.  This large parc opened at about the same time as Central Park in New York, it is about 20% of the size of Central Park.  Pierre relayed the legend of a golden bust of Jesus in the lake.  Rode around the parc and then through a very long tunnel across to the Rhone.  Pierre stopped for a “pee” break for the ladies using an “organic” facility which made the public toilette I used positively civilized.  The one lady on our tour that inspected the offering came back out declaring it to be unsuitable.  Onward we passed a public pool along the Rhone rive a gauche that was famous for it’s Olympics origin, but not used for that purpose.  That pretty much wrapped up the two hour tour and we returned to the beginning where half the riders bid farewell.  Amillee led us to a quaint little shop where we were treated to some Prailine syrup (original recipe) mixed with wine, and a really great sampling of sausages and cheeses made for this unique little Lyon speciality shop. Pierre asked if we wanted to carry on cycling for the rest of the second half, which after learning would include a ride up to the Basilica, we were game - so off we went.  Glad to have the peddle assist for the winding climb, a great stop to view the “fake” Eiffel Tower

and Basilica and a final stop to walk around in and out of the church.  Spectacular view of Lyon from on high, and a beautiful (active) Catholic Church which is a part of the European Christian pilgrimage leading to Spain and the famous El Camino, seemed a bit of a stretch, but this was not the only “exaggeration” articulated by our guide.  We took a quick look through the inside of the Basilica, then off for the steep downslope with a brief stop at the Lugdunum Roman ruins, with seating for up to 10,000?!? on the hillside.  One last stop in front of St. Jean cathedral made the second half of our eBike tour or Lyon more than offset the relatively lame first half.  Returned the bikes to the starting spot and took a shortcut through the ancient secret passage way (traboules) to avoid the heavily trafficked Quai Romain Rolland, we found what appeared to be the only open restaurant, which sadly turned out to be a Halal operation (sans alcohol), but we enjoyed a soft drink - very sweet iced tea.  

We wandered around the cobblestones and found the Wallace - a british style pub that apparently ignored the mid afternoon closures (oddly the Elephant and Castle across the street was buttoned down).  After a pint, we made our way back to the Sirop de la Rue and bought some wine and sausage, picked up a six pack and Karen and I said we’d had enough and would hop in and Uber back to the Barge while the younguns continued exploring Vieux Lyon. “Hop in an Uber” proved more challenging than I had imagined with a bunch of false starts, a move to what would hopefully be a better pick up spot and another lengthy wait, we finally got a ride.  Along the way, we passed the kids who had made it most of the way back on foot.  Once at the barge, a charcuterie was prepared and we had a wine, cheese and sausage party on the top deck.  Some discussion about what next, but all were happy for an ETB after two full days exploring Lyon.

Lyon en pied

 Well, I was ready to marche a lot earlier than the other tourists, watched the sun come up from the top deck.  While the barge is a bit stranded on the Rive Adroit de la Saone, there is a nice view of Le Confluence (2iem Arrondissement) across the river.  So we got a late start by hopping on the city bus (stops right at the boat) and taking the short ride to Gare Perrache.  We walked north along the rive gauche and crossed over at a pedestrian pont.  Found a Boulangerie acote de la Cafe in Vieux Lyon and enjoyed the classic petit dejeuner on the trottoir.  

Then crossed back over and commenced our exploration of the centre ville.  Nothing would do but a cocktail at the Hotel Royal in a quaint little bar appointed in red velvet right next to Place Bellacour in the 5iem Arrondissement.  The Fan Zone that had been operating on the Place throughout the RWC pool round was being dismantled.  We then wandered around aimlessly shopping and people watching until we found l’epicerie de Ginette Bistro a Tartines where we had a croque monsieur and some very sweet wine.  Back to the self guided shopping tour we made our way south (more or less) through the “shopping area” and past the Gare Parrache into Le Confluence.  Within the modern shopping center, we found an elevated patio overlooking the Saone and across from the Barge and enjoyed some afternoon sun.  The weather was spectacular on this bright autumn day.  After that, we gathered some supplies at Carrefour and then tracked down an Uber for the fairly short trip back across the Saone and up Quai Jean Jacques Rousseau to our accommodation.  Not much time to have a nap and freshen up before we jumped back on the city bus to Gare Perrache and a short walk to Rustique, the Michelin star restaurant that Myles had reserved for us some months ago.  It was a truly special culinary experience with twelve (12!) courses (four hours!) of unique dishes peculiar to this region of France (including Catfish, which is an invasive species to French rivers and has predated most fresh water species out of existence!).  Paired with fine wines for each course (I have no idea what we were drinking) it was tres magnifique (even the pigeon) and a memorable evening beautifully prepared and presented by Helene and Maxime!  Being well past bedtime at midnight, we waited on the sketchy street outside the restaurant for what seemed a long time for an Uber to run us back to la Barge.  The tourists were played out and we all fell into our beds after logging possibly far too many steps on this first full day of our adventure.

Quiet barge on the Saone

The overnight WestJet flight from YYC to CDG was on time and comfortable.  The touring party is not blessed with my good fortune to be able to sleep on a plane, so while I was blissfully slumbering almost from wheels up to touch down, the others - not so much.  Arrival in Paris saw us make the long trek to French customs and through that to baggage claim and another long walk to the Gare Aeroport to await our SNCF TGV train to Lyon.  We were startled to learn that Alex had brought her vacuum in the large suitcase she was dragging - oh wait, that would be a hair dryer (Dyson).  The information was sparse as to what gate and platform, but we muddled through and managed to get to where we needed to be without stress. The train was full and appeared well used, but fortunately our seats were close to Le Bar.  Gare Part Dieu was also busy, but thanks to our VRBO hostess (Florence (Flo)), we were met by our driver Wajdi and he escorted us to his spacious van with only a minor mis-step in a cramped elevator.  Through heavy traffic and across the Rhone and Saone to Quai Jean-Jacques Russeau, we arrived at the Barge to be met by our hosts Flo and Giles.  

The house boat is the primary residence of these empty nesters (their youngest is studying abroad in Montreal), but they have recently been renting the entire barge to tourists (previously only the “cabin”).  With all of the antique photography equipment throughout the house boat, it was obvious that Giles is a professional photographer.  They were gracious and forthcoming and fortunately fluent en Anglais.  The barge is spacious and boasts fully appointed living spaces with three separate bedrooms and ensuite baths (as advertised), very comfortable so some tourists settled in for a nap.  Inevitably, all were Fatigue, Afame et Soif as the clock ticked into the evening. With nothing left in the tank, we opted for pizza delivery and the bottle of Chardonnay thoughtfully left by Flo and Giles.  We’ll regroup dans le matin and get our bearings.

RWC2023 here we come!

Had a preparatory petit dejeuner yesterday to get the gastronomy in order for the upcoming adventure. Packed and wrapping up the last bits of organizing for being away.  This trip has been a while in the making with the final weekend in Paris for Semi Finals with For the Love of the Game Privateers.  Before then, the family vacation in central France with all hands on deck (excuse the pun!). Will be calling for an Uber shortly and meet the kids at the airport where we plan to be a bit earlier than usual in order to have time to get a Thanksgiving meal together, and we have much to be grateful for.

Homeward bound once more

 A bit groggy and somewhat worse for wear after 12 days of Pub abuse, I was glad to have requested the extra hour for late check out.  One more hot b’fast at the Morrison Hilton and got packed up with all the paraphernalia gathered between London and Dublin, we ordered a cab to take us away for a night in the Grand Hotel located on the shores of the Malahide Estuary of the Broadmeadow River.  A lovely hotel in the quaint historical fishing village was just the ticket to try and return some blood to the alcohol stream, possibly make an attempt to get a bit better hydrated in advance of the long trip home next day.  We didn’t have any luck getting a reservation for dinner as it turned out to be Mother’s Day in Ireland, and the restaurants were apparently booked solid.  We decided to try and walk up an convince the Maître D at That’s Amore on Townyard Lane that we deserved a break.  Luckily he was obliging and we were able to message Bex that we had secured a spot an hour later.  With time to kill, nothing short of a pint at the Gibney’s Pub would suffice.  There we found multi generational families out for a glass of bubbly for the cherished Irish Mam.  

Brother Matt showed his fortitude by choking back yet another pint of Guinness.  Off to our reservation, Bex joined us for what turned out to be an exceptional Italian pasta dinner and we enjoyed getting more information about our niece’s adventurous studies and her plans for a career in the dark arts.  We checked the next bus arrival time for Bex to return to her hostel, seemed a long time on a dark rainy night, but wait, isn’t Duffy’s Pub nearby? Surely it would be better to wait there?  Indeed.  One very last cleansing Ale in Malahide was taken, Rebecca dispatched home by bus, and an ETB for the entirely played out tourists.

Next morning saw and early start with a much shorter cab ride to the airport.  Got there in plenty of time to check in our oversized golf bags (glad to have them off our hands) and get through a once again mystifying labyrinth of security rules, this time discombobulating the usually serene Miss Karen.  No harm, no foul, we were through with no souvenirs confiscated this time (bit of a close call on the Guinness  Mustard).  Flight to Frankfurt was on time and smooth, sadly a fairly long ways in the wrong direction.  Last leg home was also on time and very comfortable, we arrived in Calgary mostly intact (no thanks to Cam2 who infected Matt who then passed on the favour to me).  Speaking of Cam2, he may not ever recover his FTLOTG Shacket, sucks being him. All baggage arrived undamaged and we were glad to see Denise with her North American Sized vehicle so we could get all the gear and ourselves in comfortably.  In closing out this trip blog, I was once more struck by the closeness of everything in the UK (and Europe), streets, flats, storefronts, WC’s (in particular).  And as I always say (h/t to Dad), great trip, glad to be home.

Game Day Ireland v England for the Grand Slam

 After b’fast the touring party was madly off in all directions, but the consierge recommended the Old Spot near Lansdowne Road for pre-game festivities.  Sadly, the Old Spot was closed.  No worries, there is more than one Irish Pub (is that redundant) in Dublin.  Next door we found Slattery’s open and welcoming where we secured a great spot in front of the big screen to watch the first half of Scotland v Italy.  The Italians proved more robust than might be expected but eventually fell to the Scots 14 - 26 yielding a try at the death.  We strolled over to the Wanderers clubhouse just steps from the Aviva Stadium gate for a wonderful hospitality event hosted by Matt Poole and his My Shout group.  The Wales v France test  was lopsided with the French prevailing 28-41.

 Pooley’s interviews with Tadgh Beirne (injured Ireland lock) and Jason Leonard (Fun Bus) didn’t give much hope for England upsetting the favourites on the day.  While England was well and truly in it for most of the first half, Freddie Steward’s red card just before the break made the visitor’s challenge likely insurmountable.   The card was controversial (to put it mildly) but player safety has taken on a very large role in the modern game.  Ireland were good for the rare home Grand Slam taking the visitors down 16 - 29.  

Post match saw more hospitality with Goodness flowing freely.  With the event winding down, and the privateers scattered, we walked a ways from Lansdowne Road until we were able to convince a cabby that since he was parked with his fare light on, he should take us back to Osmond Quay.  The fare light seems to be more of a guideline than a protocol for the Dublin cab business.  We stumbled into the Lobby bar at the Morrison where very few privateers had made it back to, but we settled in for a Dooblin Book (much to the chagrin of the bartender, who knew not of what I spoke).  As more and more tourists found their way home, a final feast was determined to be in order off went Rhino to gather a kebab or two.  Last call circa 02:00 hours made for a very full day alongside the Liffey River.

St. Paddy’s in Dublin

 Brother Matt, K&I commenced the day with a trip to the Epic Museum where the story of Irish emigration throughout the world and the impact that this diaspora has made on history.  The interactive museum was very much worth the price of admission with surprising insights, more than just an Irish Pub in every nook and cranny around the globe.  Afterwards, our attempts to find a spot to view the parade proved fruitless, and we found ourselves on the wrong side of the route trapped until the end.  Eventually we were able to get across O’Connell street and made our way through throngs of humanity to the oldest pub in Ireland, the Brazen Head (with more than a few brazen hussies on full display).  Tipped a few pints before queuing up the stairs to the food service area (no beer served) where we enjoyed a very promptly delivered classic pub lunch.  

Our niece Rebecca who is studying at Dublin City College joined us for her first half pint of Guinness once we moved back downstairs.  We then strolled through the increasingly vociferous crowds on our own self guided tour of the historic churches of Dublin while Brother Matt retraced his steps in search of a favoured Gastro-Pub near the Temple Bar. Alas, no food service on this day of Irish revelry.  Bex had reached her limit and departed to hop on a bus homeward with depleted phone battery.  No sooner than she had headed north than we discovered a different Gastro-Pub that was serving food, the Davey Byrne and quickly got a table and “upscale” pub grub.  With the increasingly large and exuberant crowds growing moreso, we chose the senior’s option of heading back to the hotel where we sheepishly passed by a gang of privateers in the lobby bar scheming their next assault on the Temple Bar.

The European and Royal Dublin

 A couple of days and two very distinctly different Irish golfing adventures.  The long bus ride to the European saw the privateers arriving to rather inclement coastal weather.  Rain in sheets but not to be deterred we tee’d off into the blustery weather.  Brad’s injured wrist saw him retire after one swing.  With our 5-some bringing up the rear, Stoner was impatiently searching for golf balls up ahead and took one off the ankle, no harm - no foul?  

Without buggy and drenched through after 10, K&I joined Paul & Brad at the 21st hole prematurely.  The kind bar man didn’t take kindly to Paul relaxing in the lounge in his underwear while our soaked clothing was strung out along the heat registers.  He gathered stuff up and took it off to the drier.  Not all equipment in pockets of rain gear made it back from the laundry, sadly missed will be my FTLOTG ball mark/repair tool.  The sterner privateers lead by the relentlessly happy Rhino that made it through all 20 holes and came in with much aplomb while we with a head start continued to imbibe Guinness as fast the pints could be built.  With a supply of roadies, we loaded on the bus for the long drive back to the Morrison.  Did I mention it was a long drive, some privateers in need of relief used the empty beer cups to take care of the business, and our fearless leader made sure the contents left the bus, three by three.  A pit stop was made too late for most, whereat we reloaded with canned Guinness and crisps for the balance of the trip.  After that display, nothing would do but a trip to Church for confession, no wait, that was a restaurant?  Great meal coupled with much revelry and the first full day came to a close with the wiser few back to the hotel while some made their way to the Temple Bar.

Next day weather was different, but the elements still played a roll in the golf challenge, wind assist on the front nine turned into a material resistance coming home.  Most of the course was under construction/maintenance, including most of the fairway bunkers GUR.  The Royal Dublin was a bit stuffier than the European, our group managed to avoid being ejected in spite of playing the O/B area coming into 18, which was a stroke of luck.  Great camaraderie with our Welch friend Michael Wayman who turned a lovely birdie into cash in the skins game.  Sadly Brad Wayman, nursing a bad wrist from rugby last weekend was unable to join in.

Great lunch at the clubhouse post golf. Our short distance bus ride marred by Dublin traffic resulted in the return of the piss cup. The Temple Bar beckoned for a BDD and we located the famous Stag’s Head pub.  Dinner at the Woollen Mills had a private room dining experience with a surprise visit from English Rugby legend Darren Garforth (Skinny) of ABC fame.  The Dooblin Book cocktail was a hit with the touring party (Dublin Buck), another great feast organized for the High Impact tourists.

Dublin

 Up and at ‘em to finish packing, we awaited the arrival of our pre-arranged Uber ride to Heathrow at 09:00h.  Quick and easy trip got us there in plenty of time to find the Aer Lingus check in where we discovered that even without a language barrier, confusion and misdirection reign.  With all our bags checked (even what we thought to be carry on), we made our way to security, which inevitably was ever so slightly different in protocol.  Made it through unscathed but could not locate Brother Matt as our lines had become separated and we thought he must have been ahead.  Turned out his queue was glacial and he was behind.  Off to the airport pub for one last full English b’fast and a pint before boarding the Aer Lingus airbus for the relatively short flight over the Irish Sea.  Ran into fellow privateer Phil Becks at the carousel where all luggage showed up reasonably quickly, we were off to find a cab to the Morrison.  Lost Phil on the way, and after a failed attempt to get stuffed into a smallish cab, we did manage to hail a suitable ride into town.  Checked in to the Morrison smoothly with our room available, we made the turnaround quickly and were off to the Guinness Storehouse for a tour of the famous and ancient brewery (since 1759!).  Quite the tale, including learning the founder sired Twenty One (21!) children of which only 10 survived childhood - times were tough!  What a woman!  Fascinating story of the global impact of this iconic brand.  We thoroughly enjoyed our pint (and extra one) overlooking the city from the Gravity bar.  Back to to hotel and we then crossed the Ha’penney bridge to Merchants Arch for some pies and chowder to go with yet more beer (and wine?).  Fed up once more we then aspired to find the Temple Bar in the middle of the Temple Bar.  This famous strip of pubs, bars and restaurants running along the southern quay of the Liffey river estuary.  Located the lively and crowded pub after a slight misdirect and met up with a pack of Privateers enjoying and honest to goodness Irish pub.  Nothing less than a pint of Guinness and shot of Tullamore Dew to cap off the first day and evening to commence our adventure with the High Impact Tour.  K&I left Brother Matt with the lingering privateers and retired to the very comfortable Morrison Hotel.

Last full day in London

 Still getting used to trying to carry out some work related matters with a six hour time difference (down from seven as North America “sprung” forward while GB stayed on GMT for another couple of weeks).  I had some responsibilities to deliver material to both of my clients after the weekend.  So while Brother Matt was off to inspect the Museum of Natural History (within walking distance from our flat) and Karen rested her aching knees, I spent the day preparing for Reserve Committee.  After that meeting we headed out to check out the Kings Arms, which turned out to be a bit sketchy (soccer pub?).  Imbibed a pint and then headed back over to the more pleasing Hollywood Arms for a few more and linked back up with Matt for an outstanding serving of Fish and Chips (check).  Back to the flat for the last night in London and prep for the short flight to Dublin - moving day?

Le Crunch

 The touring party splintered on this Saturday where Myles was off to meet his old childhood chum Ashton who travelled down from Leeds by train to meet at Kings Cross.  Brother Matt and I were off to Twickers for our first test match of this adventure.  Karen was pleased to be rid of us all and rest her knees for the day.  Since I wasn’t with Myles, I cannot report on his misadventures, but Brother Matt and I headed off to Earls Court tube station after a light b’fast at the flat.  Transit to Richmond was quick and easy whereat we located the Sun Inn (recommended by Logger) for first pints of Guinness.  Plenty of friendly Brits to chat with at the self proclaimed Home of English Rugby, particularly the orthopaedic surgeon who was interested in Matt’s Burmingham hips and Karens full knees.  Need I say the Brits were friendly before the game?  We were then off to Twickenham on foot - how far could it be?  The walk was pleasant but lengthy, such that we barely made it on time to Kneller Hall (actually a festival tent) 10 minutes beyond Twickenham.  But what an event it was, with an open host bar serving pints of Bitter or Guinness non stop, wine and ADD’s to ones heart’s content.  Lunch was fabulous and the interviews of famous international stars by Pooley made the price of admission worth it. Serge Betson, Ben Kay, Phillips St. Andre, Ben Earle (is it it a partial prerequisite to be named Ben in order for selection to England?) and finally Rory Underwood for the post game.   What a thing to behold is Twickenham on game day!  The crowd was extremely large but very well behaved as we circumambulated the stadium in search of our seats after mis-direction at the start.

 View from the end zone in the lower bowl made for a great spot to see France score in the corner, repeatedly in the first half. Not much action at our end in the second.  It was a sad spectacle for English fans as the home team suffered their worst defeat at home in the long arc of history (10-53).  France were clinical in the surgical separation of England’s defence, with Antoine DuPont showing off his world class bona fides.  Back to Kneller Hall for the post game, where even more Guinness was imbibed before making our way to the train taking us back to Richmond.  I have to say that once more, while the security staff were very pleasant, the were also entirely clueless regarding the local environs surrounding Twickenham.  “Shuttle? What’s that”.  We found ourselves pressed into a throng of humanity being herded to the platform in a wildly inefficient manner.  But, after shuffling along for a long time (we could have walked to Richmond in less time), we were on the loosely filled train and made the transfer to the “District” line at Richmond and on to Earls Court station swiftly once on board.

Next day found me a bit worse for wear, stumbled to the kitchen to bid Myles farewell as he had to head home this day.  After laying back down, I was barely upright in time to meet my colleague Ryan to walk with K&I over to the Fox and Pheasant pub for lunch.  This pub was purchased by famous singer James Blunt (who apparently lives nearby) and refurbished beautifully to it’s rustic glory.  The classically British roast beef and Yorkshire pudding was very tasty, even if the order was messed up badly by our greenhorn waitress who seemed to manage to screw up every aspect of the service.  That said, her teammates on the staff made it all good and we enjoyed a delightful Sunday pub lunch experience.  Parted company with Ryan and settled into our flat to watch the Sunday test matching Scotland v Ireland on the Beeb.  This match was far more compelling and saw the Brave Scots hold their own through the first half, but unable to keep the pace through the second falling 7-22 after several late try’s posted by the world number 1 side. Brother Matt had located his relly’s and headed off to the tube to find his way to Wimbledon.  K&I took Ryan’s advice and walked to the very nearby Mia Momma where we enjoyed a wonderful two course classically Italian supper (primi et secondi piatti were way more than enough).  Venue and staff were awesome and the meal was really great, so thanks again to Ryan for the suggestion.  Even though the Hollywood Arms was just across the street, we couldn’t convince ourselves that a cleansing ale was going to be necessary, so it was back to the flat to try and finish off the laundry using the completely useless laundry machine.  The no-dry dryer apparently making so much noise as to cause the neighbour below to wrap on the door and ask us to shut it down.  (We had been told to not run the machine after 9:30, but thought the dryer wasn’t the noise problem, dopey us?). So ended our weekend in London, leaving me with a work day ahead prior to travel to Dublin on Tuesday.

Six Nations

 It is Saturday morning, I’ve been in London since Thursday and only just now making time to post an entry.  Ain’t it funny, how time slips away (h/t Willy Nelson).  With Brother Matt and Little Uncle Myles in tow,  my honey and me departed YYC for LHR evening of Wednesday after a tiresome work week pushing year end forward for COPL.  AC flight 850 was on time and very comfortable, horror stories about post COVID air travel proved not applicable.  Arrived in London mid morning and found luggage (golf equipment - don’t ask) had been delivered before we could get to the carousel.  Through British customs seamlessly and then on to locate the Tube.  Found it nearby and easy (except for a couple of difficult navigations with golf luggage) and we were off to Earls Court.  900 meters to the flat seemed like 10 miles dragging our kit, but we made it to find Jeremy and Dawn from London Guest Suites awaiting our arrival.  Did I mention the golf club luggage was awkward?  The narrow staircase leading up to the 3 level “flat” was comical. Nevertheless, what we found was a very comfortable 3 bed, 3 bath apartment at the edge of Chelsea not far from the heart of London.  It is fascinating to experience how the nerve center of the British monstrosity has crammed so many humans into the limited geography of this relatively small island in the North Atlantic.  Of particular interest was the staircase leading to the lower level bedroom, new knees/hips need not apply.  “Steep and narrow” do no justice to the architectural wonder that reminded me of the Giant’s Causeway.  Once situated, and since we hadn’t recorded nearly enough steps that far, we were off to explore the neighborhood and locate the Duke of Clarence. We wedged ourselves in beside a rather large Great Dane and settled down for first pints on the ground and a very welcome pub lunch.  Walked back to the flat where the less rested tourists laid down for nap while I located the Sainsbury for some supplies (the ability to sleep on an aircraft is a gift).  Later on, we departed for our first gastronomical adventure to Noble Rot, an entry on Myles’ very lengthy list of must do culinary adventures.  The Uber delivered us to Old Soho almost on time after meandering around Trafalgar Square through the ridiculous traffic cramming downtown London.  This minuscule establishment set up in another narrow property made a sardine can seem positively spacious.  Meals were excellent and with wine flowing freely, we got ourselves a taste of the famous living cost in the center of the British universe.  After dinner, we made our way back to the Duke of Clarence for a cleansing ale to wrap up what turned out to be a jam packed (excuse the pun) first day in London Town.

Day two got off to a blazing start with no one astir until mid morning.  Myself accursed with another good sleep was up and at it early waiting patiently for the other tourists to rise.  My patience might have been wearing thin due to my naive belief this group would be ready to rock in time to get b’fast (or at least coffee and croissant).  Myles identified the Black Rabbit down the way on Old Brompton as a great candidate.  Sadly this eight stool Cafe was chalk full upon our arrival and the wait time was too much to bear for an increasingly hangry tour coordinator (that would be me.). So we hailed an Uber to take us to the Delaunay for a full English Breakfast.  Once more into the breach driving past Trafalgar Square, Myles had to revise the reservation thrice.  Poached eggs and Black Pudding hit the spot, that’s for sure.  After a lovely b’fast I hopped into a cab (namesake Michael drove me down the red Mall up to Buckingham Palace) back to the flat while the rest of the tourists did touristy stuff (museums and such).  I had some work related things to attend and a quick trip to the Tesco for additional essentials (plus Brinkley’s Wine Shop), but there is always time for a pint or two at the Hollywood Arms where I met my COPL colleague Ryan Gaffney and his buddies Edward and Alastair. So I was well primed to reconvene with my touring party and prep for the Show.  Another Uber trip past Trafalgar Square to Le Blanchette for dinner preceded the Lyceum Theater which was packed for what must be the millionth showing of the Lion King.  The artists and puppeteers were truly phenomenal as they presented this compelling archetypal hero story in spectacular costumes and song.  We poured out of the theatre to make our way to the nearby Savoy in hopes of a cocktail at the American bar.  Sadly, lots of other folks had similar plans and the wait time to enter was past last call, so we were off to the Swift in a cab (cash, big tip, oops?). We had to queue briefly but got a seat at the window overlooking No. 9 Peep Show and Adult Video establishment across the street.  Throngs of Lady Folk coming and going from that place made for some fascinating people watching.  Once closing time approached at the Swift, nothing would do but a night cap at Murder, Inc. located along dark alleyway and down into a dark cave.  The humorous waiter noted his relatives in Toronto and Edmonton, one has everything, the other nothing! Thus ended a very long day two, and we grabbed a cab to the flat where all fell into bed exhausted once more.

Adios Puerto Vallarta

 We were mostly ready to go at day break, so we just checked off the few last items to pack and readied for check out of the Palmilla Villa #3 at 10 o’clock. Lugged our gear over to the Marina Vallarta Club de Golf where we found Owners Club desk not yet open, but we stored our luggage behind the desk and got our reserved table on the veranda overlooking the 18th green.  The Sunday Brunch buffet was really good and very reasonably priced, especially with the bottomless mimosas.  Best deal in the Marina area, would highly recommend it.  Saw the “Beatles” (Paul and George) with their wives one last time there as they were moving between Villas at the Owners Club and also needed to be out of the Homestead at 10.  These two couples were fun to meet, particularly Paul who was always upbeat and at the ready with local intel.  After brunch and turning in our keys to Antonio, we had the security guard flag down a cab (actually two, couldn’t get our golf bags in the first) for the very short trip to the airport.  Can’t seem to make any sense out of the cab pricing, we could have walked to the airport but the price was the same as to go to the Malecon?  The aeropuerto was predictably busy, but we had no problem checking in as we were quite early for the flight.  Security was straight forward, even the “random” checking I underwent with a non-inglee agent.  Through security we found a comfortable location to sit awaiting departure.  The inbound WestJet flight was on time, and with some minor shenanigans, we boarded and were able to get our bags stowed nearby our seats on this very fully booked flight home.  Departure was slightly delayed due to the necessity to locate and remove the suitcase of a passenger who had checked in but didn’t show up at the gate.  While the departure gate for this flight had changed, I still wonder how you get to a small airport early enough to check a bag but can’t make it to the gate in time.  Security? Gate Confusion? Bout of Tourista?  Oh well, the time was partially made up in flight and we got to YYC only a little late.  Customs processing troubles have mostly been ironed out and we went through very smoothly, however, the baggage handling issues remain and we waited quite a long time for our bags to come through.  Thankfully they did arrive intact and Myles picked us up and got us home no problemo.  This brief vacation to Mexico was very relaxing and comfortable, we were just busy enough for the time to fly by, but also not too busy as we are well rested after the 10 days off.  Once more, a very grateful thank you to Bill and Jane, our generous hosts letting us take advantage of their Owners Club membership at Marina Vallarta.  At the end of each of our vacations, I honour my Dad with his memorable words, great trip, glad to be home.

Down day around the Condo

 Lazy start followed by a dip in the hot tub after checking the news.  In an attempt to use up some of the groceries, I mixed up some b’fast taquitos, which turned out pretty good. Lounged around the patio until gathering the motivation to stroll over to the Marina Vallarta Club de Golf to hit some practice balls in the heat of the day.  Whipped up some Guacamole with the last avocado and pico de gallo for a mid afternoon snack plus some bubbles courtesy Gino, followed by a nap in the hammock.  Did I mention this was a down day?  Decided to take one last stroll along the Marina promenade to pick up some Vanilla and check once more on the Vitamin I.  On the way out the door, I somehow managed to leave the key inside and locked us out.  In a bit of a panic, I rushed over to the golf clubhouse to see if  Antonio was still around, alas he was not to be found.  I explained my situation to the delightful Norma at the pro shop and asked if she had Antonio’s phone number, to which she abruptly responded “no”.  She did relent and called Antonio who was able to instruct her on how to access his office and where to find the master key.  After ensuring that I was acutely aware of how inconvenient this was for her, Norma gave me the key and I was able to rectify my trouble promptly.  I have to say that this trip has had more than its share of minor hiccups that could have had more challenging outcomes, but so far nothing insurmountable.  Back to the quest for Vitamin I, it is available, but you have to wade through a mountain of Viagra and Anabolic Steroids to get to it, only to find the price to be prohibitive.  Interesting to note that there seems to be a Farmicia every 20 paces or so, seemingly carrying exactly the same merchandise.  Not sure how this is a good business model?  We wound up at Splash where we enjoyed a pleasant seafood dinner and some wine.  Back at the condo, we cracked the last bottle of wine in the condo and enjoyed the cool evening air c/w one last dip in the hot tub.

Beach walk - Sonora Prime

 I think I’ve finally figured out the hot tub, so I managed to get the temperature right for a soak in the morning.  Nothing much planned for the day, wanted to test out K’s new knee walking the beach, so after a light b’fast we headed over to the Marriot.  Security waved us past when we indicated our intent to go to Nosh for lunch.  We walked towards town all the way past the Westin, beyond which the beach has been rendered back to nature.  It proved a good test of the titanium knees with hot sand shifting about with each foot fall, but overall held up nicely.  We went past the Marriot on the way back to return to a beach vendor where we had spied an attractive sarape on an earlier walk.  Success with the purchase of precisely the item K had been wanting.  Back to the Nosh for another go round of ceviche tostadas and margaritas for a late lunch.  Afterwards, we relaxed by the pool before getting gussied up for the highly recommended Sonora Prime steak house.  Our reservation for Miguel Wolf was ready when we arrived and we were seated at a comfortable table.  After being served the obligatory chips and salsa (albeit a bit upscale), we were presented with the various cuts of beef available.  

We decided to share the Cowboy cut (bone in rib steak) alongside a nice bottle of Italian wine.  Preparation and presentation were outstanding and the service was excellent with Maître D’s, servers and bus boys buzzing around.  A great experience all around as indicated by la quenta.  Back to the condo for a quick dip in the hot tub put a wrap on this day in Marina de Vallarta.

Vista Vallarta - Weiskopf

 After a night on the Old Town, it was all I could do to get up and stroll over to the Marriot to get some pesos for the remainder of our trip.  Prepped for another golf outing at the Vista, to play the second (Weiskopf) course.  Found this course to be more scenic and we enjoyed playing it a bit better than the Nicholas course, especially Karen’s birdie.  Our b’fast order wasn’t what we wanted but turned out to be a great egg sandwich, more on the kitchen there later.  The round started out on a quick pace, but we caught up to some sort of group tournament before long and the pace slowed to a crawl.  Things were looking up at the turn when the starter directed a couple of groups in front of us onto the Nicholas, alas that was short lived as we caught back up to the real culprits a couple of holes later and suffered a very slow finish to our round.  

As mentioned, the Weiskopf track was quite beautiful, so there was that.  After the round, we settled in on the patio where Salvadore mixed his world famous Cadillac Margarita and we had Sopa Azteca and shared a veggie sandwich, which was out standing.  I might even suggest it would be worth the trip up the hill to this place for the food/drinks alone?  Anyway, back to the Marina Owners Club for a quick siesta and then walked over to the Marina for the Thursday street Mercado.  This is a big event with vendor tents set up along the entire promenade beside all of the yachts moored in the Marina.  Everything from food to trinkets on display, but we wound up only buying a shirt I’d been eyeing in one of the regular shops.  It was slightly off putting to see 4-5 military folks marching through the crowd loaded for cartel.  Made me wonder what they would do if the shooting started in such a crowded area. We stopped for a rest and a glass of wine (+ a bottle of water) at the wine shop before walking back to Victors where we didn’t wait long for a table.  Oh, I should mention that the hostess didn’t like the cut of our jib and when a nice table came up overlooking the promenade, she waived in the group behind us, ostensibly because the available table was for three (or four).  Since we were only two, we had to wait and finally got a less appealing table way at the back of the restaurant.  Nevertheless, the food was good and each Pacifico came with a shot of Tequila to take the edge off.

Twisted Palms to Andele

 Miercoles was always planned to be a down day to recover from too many steps.  I had all the fixins for Huevo Rancheros so that set us up for what was to be a very relaxing break from the onslaught of too many things to do.  Siesta in the hammock was perfect while I figured out how to get the hot tub Goldilocks setting.  Thinking that we were getting a bit low on pesos, I ventured over to the Marina in search of the Scotia Bank I was sure I had seen, couldn’t find it as it was a bit further along at the super mercado.  Would have to make do with the cash on hand as time was running out.  We had a plan to meet Deb and Ron (K’s friends from Penticton) for drinks and dinner in Old Town, so when they suggested a local favourite cocktail bar called The Twisted Palm, we figured to be set.  It all worked out in the end, but the start was a bit sketchy.  While I should have mapped out the place prior to departing WiFi coverage, I didn’t based on the very effective cab service we had enjoyed so far.  Inevitably our driver knew not one word of English, I couldn’t understand the numbers he was saying (at first) and he had never heard of the Twisted Palm.  All that became apparent after we were in the cab.  Also, in my own inimitable way, I had my cellular data service turned off and couldn’t get it back on right away (too many levels).  So we were hurtling down the freeway with no communication and me more than a bit irritated with myself for allowing us to get in this predicament.  Eventually got my phone working and acquired an address from Ron on Ave. Ignacio de Vallarta, which the cabby got us kinda close to, and we found Ron awaiting our arrival at the curb.  After a couple of very large margaritas, we hopped in yet another cab for the short ride to the Melecon for dinner at La Dolce Vita.  Reservation was lost, but not to worry, they got us a great table looking out over the patio towards the beach.  

Dinner was complimented with some fine Malbec, just  to be sure blood alcohol level didn’t dip too low.  After dinner, nothing would do but to check out the very popular (with Gringos) Andales bar for some disco favourites, and much revelry.  We were getting a bit full of cerveca, so when the Blue Kamikaze came around (complete with purple nurples for everyone), we had to say yes.  No one rode the burro, but Deb was keen to show Karen the railing leading upstairs.  Quite the place to be sure.  I paid the tab (very nearly left a credit card on the floor) and we grabbed one of the ubiquitous cabs and bid our hosts a hearty buenos noches.  

Marina Vallarta Club de Golf

 With the first tee at the foot of our patio, we didn’t have to get moving too early in order to make our tee time comfortably.  We took Jane’s note to Antonio at the Owners Club desk, but no Antonio.  The staff seemed a bit leery about letting us go without paying first on the promise that we would work it all out with Tony once complete.  The course was not busy at all and even though we were often waiting for the twosome ahead, our round was complete in under 4 hours.  The crocodiles were out in force and we saw many large and small, up close in some cases.  At the 18th, there were a bunch of big Iguanas to greet us at the green.

 We located Antonio and after some nudging, he agreed to check with his higher ups to see if they would allow the discount offered to member’s guests playing with a member (since Jane had to leave “early” to attend to Billy).  Antonio got the go ahead but the counter staff made it clear that they were none to pleased that we had negotiated a better rate (“this in only good for today, not any other day!”).  After tacos and a margarita at the clubhouse, we grabbed our clubs and took the short path back to Casa Palmilla and spent some time at the pool before deciding that a return to Terrazza de Roma for dinner over the water.  We made a reservation there and then walked down the marina and around the corner to make a reservation at Sonora Prime Friday evening.  On the way back, we stopped at CJ’s Texas for a cocktail and guacamole before getting a nice table for two on the terrace.  A fine pasta dinner was served up by Martin which made it a wrap for our first day without our G.O.

Walk on the beach

 After slowly starting the day, and some taquitos for b’fast at the condo, Miss Jane led us down Paseo de la Marina Norte walking alongside hotels, homes and condos to the public beach access which passes by the 14th hole and crocodile habitat.  

Strolled the beach back to the Marriot by which time it was necessary to have a margarita at the Nosh beach club bar.  Ordered up some fabulous tostadas while Jane became even more delightful with tequila on an empty stomach!  Spent more time there than we had planned but enjoyed the beautiful ambiance of the Marriot poolside/beachfront bar.  K&I made a quick trip over to the Marina Oxxo for supplies and who should we meet but Jose (from previous evening).  He was glad to see us and we had a brief visit.  Afterwards, we went to the Club de Golf to see Antonio about golf plans and any other matters for Owners Club protocols, but no Antonio!  Turns out it is a holiday here to observe Dia de la Constitucion. We booked a couple of tee times with a plan to meet Antonio next day.  Nothing would do but for Jane to have one last dip in the pool prior to her departure back to the frozen north.  We will miss our most gracious hostess after having her to show us the lay of the land.  Once more the convenience of this location was evident as a cab was waiting at the cab stand in front of the Marriot and Jane was wisked away for her journey home.  We had a spit wash and readied to see if we could find an appealing restaurant at the Marina, but after strolling along none of the options grabbed our fancy so Cansado, Hambriento and Sediento once more we went for comfort food at the Champions Sports bar across the Paseo.  Back to the condo it was ETB for a great nights sleep.