Monday, January 30, 2012

Your comments matter! The Subaru Saga Continues

Recently this blog has been getting some unprecedented attention as many of you have had something to say about the situation that the Wilson family was facing because of Anchor Subaru. Several of your comments have been lost along the way and I have received emails about people being unable to post their thoughts. I am very sorry for this. Please be patient while I look into the problem.

Please try posting to a different page, perhaps this one or Subaru Update. Please do not be discouraged but keep your comments and support coming. This isn't over yet.

Friday, January 27, 2012

Subaru Update

If you have read the recent posting I did about the situation regarding Anchor Subaru and my sister's car, I wanted to post this update.

Thank you to everyone for commenting and please keep it going because there is no end in sight, yet. The car is being held hostage and below you can read the official statement from Anchor Subaru in regards to the situation:


Hello this is Chris Benoit from Anchor Subaru I would like to respond by first stating we take any and all customer issues very seriously and proactively take steps to resolve those issues. We have been able to consistently grow our business over the past 17 years by among other things treating customers fairly and operating with integrity. Further, although we strive for perfection we sometimes make mistakes and when this happens we do the right thing and take responsibility for the mistake. We are a relatively small family owned business and we truly recognize that our customers are the reason we exist. In this context I would like to address some of the points made by the op jmaziarz.

The vehicle was serviced on Saturday 1/14/12 we performed 2 recalls and an oil change. The vehicle was towed in 4 days later on Wednesday 1/18/12 having traveled 132 miles since the Saturday service. We visually inspected the vehicle and found an internal engine noise, the drain plug and oil filter were tight and no oil was leaking from either place and the oil level was full. If we had found that either the drain plug or the filter was loose resulting in leaking oil causing the failure, I would have at minimum apologized to the Wilsons and paid for the repair. However, this was not the case. To support the point that we did put oil in the vehicle it would have been unlikely to have made it 2-3 miles before failure, whereas this vehicle drove 132 miles over 4 days before the failure.

In discussing the findings with Mr. Wilson the Service Advisor said that there was an internal engine failure causing the noise, the drain plug and filter were tight and that the oil level was full, and thus the failure was not caused an improperly performed the oil change but rather an internal failure.

The advisor then offered the possibility of Anchor obtaining goodwill assistance from Subaru of America to help defray some of the costs (the vehicle is out of warranty by 5,000 miles). The only requirement is that we would need oil change records as supporting documents. Mr. Wilson provided the records and they were presented to Subaru of America. The next step in the process it to obtain customer approval to disassemble the engine to determine the point of failure and report the findings to Mr. Wilson and Subaru of America. They will then determine the level of assistance if any that will be provided.

Throughout the process we have been in contact with Mr. Wilson and Subaru of America. We last called and spoke with Mr. Wilson on Monday 1/23/12 to get approval for the disassembly. We were told that he would call us back and we have not yet heard from him. We are looking forward to getting his approval and moving forward.

I would ask that Mr. Wilson contact me directly at (401) 767-5000.

Thank you,

Chris Benoit
Vice President
Anchor Auto Group
Anchor Subaru
Anchor Nissan
And here is my reply:

I would like to thank Mr. Benoit for responding. However, the facts remain that on two occasions, during two separate phone conversations, once to J. Wilson and once to Mr. Moore (J. Wilson's father) the reason for the engine fail was said to be "no lubrication in the engine" and it was only after proper paperwork was provided proving constant maintenance to the car and it was discovered that the latest oil change was in fact done by your service department, the story changed to an internal engine failure. Here I would like to point out that your dealership itself sold this car to the Wilson family 2 years ago. You stated that you are awaiting to hear from Mr. Wilson on whether or not to dismantle the engine. The facts are that it is entirely possible that if you and your dealership decide to not be responsible for the "engine fail" once the engine has been completely dismantled, Mr. Wilson will be charged the labor fee and then the rebuild cost to his engine. One can understand why there is a delay in his decision since perhaps he now needs to reach out and consult a lawyer. The Wilson family owns only this one car and has been without transportation according to you, since 1/18/12. Today is 01/27/12...and being that you take "any and all customer issues very seriously and proactively take steps to resolve those issues", why haven't you offered them a loaner car during this time? Let me ask you also, since there is a huge amount of public outcry about your treatment of this situation and we have heard from a number of unhappy customers coming from dealings with your dealership, how can the Wilson family feel certain that their car is being handled properly or that they will get an honest outcome? You sound very convincing in your response Mr. Benoit, but the facts show a lack of customer care and a change in your dealership's story. What started out as "lack of lubrication" and engine seizure has turned into a faulty Subaru engine that is suddenly the fault of the customer (when in fact the car was recently purchased from you and has been perfectly maintained). Even though you tried very hard to sound caring and concerned, I am left with doubts. And in the time that has passed, this is the very first time the Wilson family has ever heard from you, here on this very high traffic blog where many people have commented on the unfairness of this situation. In fact, I myself sent the link to your dealership's attention yesterday when I visited your contact page. I also visited the contact page of Subaru of America, explaining that this situation was creating a negative buzz about Anchor Subaru and, by extension, Subaru of America. How sad that it ever had to come to this but the reason I wrote this blog was because of the lack of care, concern and fairness that was shown to the Wilson family. And in writing this, I have heard many more sadly similar stories. Unfortunately, it would seem that the general opinion and advice to the Wilson family is that if they want justice, they need to seek legal advice. How sad that it comes to that. You may be a "family owned business" Mr. Benoit but you haven't treated the Wilson's like family and that casts a shadow on the name of Subaru as well.

Just as an added bonus, I asked about the recalls that brought my sister's Subaru Forester in to Anchor Subaru in the first place. One was a recall that had to do with the engine control module reprogramming. So beyond the oil change itself, they were the last people to touch the engine and then three days later the car died. And Mr. Benoit said that the car was driven for four days before it died when in fact, it was three. The car died at night on the third day and was towed back to the dealership late that same night.

There is still no help being offered from Anchor Subaru, other then the comment by the Vice President Mr. Benoit, as seen above.

I ask again that everyone please pass this blog along and let everyone you know hear about this situation. You can never underestimate the power of the written word or the people behind it.

Thank you again.

And please scroll down the comments section  of Subaru, How Could You? to read Mr. W. Moore's addition to the story. It's very interesting as well.

And stay tuned for further updates as then occur.



Monday, January 23, 2012

Subaru, How Could You?

I loved my Subaru. We were together for 12 beautiful years and when it was time to say good bye, she took a little piece of my heart with her.

Since I have had a long fulfilling relationship with Subaru, I was thrilled for my sister Jen Wilson and her husband Terrence when they purchased their Forester and joined the team. Once you fall in love with one, it changes you. Yes it does. I think its something to do with the all wheel drive. I'm not going to review the mechanical reasons why I love Subaru cars but rather the emotional reasons, because that is what I do. I loved my Impreza and her style, her pep, her dependability. I always knew that little ticking engine would start for me. She never let me down. Never.

Okay, what am I getting at? This is not just a reminiscence of my good ole Subaru days. I am writing because I am incensed by a situation that my sister is facing and the reaction of the company of Subaru.

Jen gets the oil changed in that car so regularly she has become the center of many jokes in the family and even at the mechanic where she goes. "Its a Subaru" we tell her, "you don't have to baby it so much". But without fail she keeps the maintenance up perfectly. And then she received a recall notice from the dealership (Anchor Subaru in North Smithfield, RI) where she purchased the car two years ago. So being the good little car owner she is, she brought the Forester in and while it was there the dealership offered to treat her to a free oil change, since they offered that service when she purchased the car but she always took it to Steve and Rick, our local mechanic (who happens to be a licensed Subaru Master Mechanic, which sounds like a super-hero but probably not one who wears a cape because capes are dangerous, as well all know) So Jen agrees to the free oil change purely out of convenience........................

AND THEN?????

THREE days later, whilst driving to get T at work (because they own only the one car, those little tree huggers) all manner of lights began flashing on the dashboard. Jen made her way off the clogged highway and was able to roll off to the side of the road while the Forester took its last hiccup of a choked breath and went silent. Now Jen was stranded, T needed to be picked up from work and their one totally reliable car was now unconscious on the side of the road.

After being towed to the dealership that had just serviced it three days ago..the cause of the problem? "The engine had no lubrication so the engine seized. You need a new engine" is exactly what Jen was told.

I repeat for emphasis:

"The engine had no lubrication so the engine seized. You need a new engine"

Greatly upset and surprised, Jen responded "You did the oil change three days ago!"

What was the retort? "Well, did you keep up the maintenance? We need to see proof that you were getting the oil changed on a regular basis"

Proof was provided the very next day but still Anchor Subaru was no explanation or response to repeated phone calls.

It has been a week and both the local dealership and representatives from the company, have refused respond on a plan of action. They have questioned our mechanic's abilities to care for the Forester and refused to accept responsibility for destroying the engine in Jen's car. How hard is it to remember that once you drain oil, oil must be replaced? There was no lubrication because none was put into the car after the oil was drained! They have not offered or agreed to lend a loaner car to Jen and T and the auto insurance will only provide a loaner in cases of accidental damage. But this is a case of accidental damage! Unless Anchor Subaru damaged the car on purpose! They refuse to replace the engine, they are holding the car at the dealership and have effectively stranded my sister and her husband, without any means of transportation. And a week has gone by.

So, I ask you, dear faithful readers, how do you feel about the way Anchor Subaru has dealt with this? I know some of you personally. Whether we are close personal friends or not,  I am humbled by the mere fact you are reading my blog. I am reaching out to you now. Please take a moment to comment on this entry. I will compile your remarks and forward them to the Anchor Subaru dealership that is handling (or I should say, refusing to handle) this ridiculous situation for Jen and T.

Or if you are bold and daring, feel free to send Subaru an email about how you feel as well.

http://www.anchorsubaru.com/contact-form.htm

Together we could shout out and create some change in the way big companies treat the average hard working consumer. Let's tell them that we won't tolerate this kind of treatment. We are not helpless. We have a voice. What could be more powerful than enough people saying "No, this is not fair, change it"?

And please feel free to forward this blog to anyone you know. Let's get the word out!

If you break something, Anchor Subaru, just fix it! How hard is that to understand?

Thank you for reading!

Friday, January 20, 2012

Little One

Why can't I be more like my dog Anna? She is satisfied with one meal a day and it is always exactly the same. No complaints, no refusal to eat (except when she is on a hunger strike, which is rare) She only drinks water so we never have to make a run to Italy for her when the vodka runs low. All she ever wants to do is exercise, seriously...it is the biggest treat for her. Walking or running makes her happy. She can jump at least 4 feet effortlessly. And I never see her sweat.

Anna is always agreeable to anything. No decision makes her upset, she packs light, never gets cold or hot, requires no special attention or plan. She is spontaneous and always in a good mood.  She is very clean, willing to lick your hands, the dinning room floor or any other spot you require. Anna has no problems relaxing, often sprawling in the center of the hallway or any other place you need to walk through, particularly if you are carrying something heavy and//or hot. She has an uncanny way of knowing in advance where would be the most inconvenient place for her to lay and she promptly lays there.


She has no addictive habits like caffeine and never complains that her feet hurt, head hurts, stomach hurts or that she is tired. In fact, she never complains, no matter what. If we leave her home she doesn't throw a fit. If we wake her up early she never grumbles. Even if we were to stay up all night, with the TV on, she would only sit near enough to be pet, leaning against you.

Anna happily chews on her toys, never gum or candy. She never uses all the hot water and dirties several towels. In fact she produces no laundry what so ever. No personal body products are ever consumed by Anna. She never complains about her pillow or mattress, she happily sleeps on the floor! You never have to change her sheets or buy her new furniture and she never whines about the chairs being uncomfortable.

My mother-in-law Denise spends hours each day talking to Anna about everything and nothing. Denise calls Anna "Little One". Hearing Denise chatting away reminds me of something else extremely valuable about Anna. She keeps secrets. I mean, really keeps them. Although there are times her eyes seem to speak volumes, she never divulges even the raciest, juiciest of tales. She is a vault, locked down!

Anna is never a backseat driver. Nothing fazes her. You can miss the turn, stop short, even forget where you are going and she acts as if she doesn't even notice.

Hopefully no one else in the family will ever catch on to how much more valuable Anna is than me, otherwise I may get left out on the balcony.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Earl Grey

I walk Anna every morning down our street, across the road and down towards the olive tree garden. Sometimes I deviate and we go down the stairs toward the sea. We have a pattern, a rhythm that we follow every morning. Along our way we meet different people and their dogs, some who ignore us and some who lung and bark at Anna (the dogs lung, the people look the other way for the most part). I assume they are barking at Anna. Maybe its really me.

A few days ago I noticed something different. Several feet down the road, along a property that is edged in shrubbery too high to see over and too thick to see through, a scent that could only be described as Earl Grey tea wafted into my senses. I thought the first time I smelled it that I must be imagining it, since I drink Earl Grey every morning and my nose must just be impatient to get home. But day after day since then I have smelled it. Gently lingering at one spot along the shrubbery and then take a few steps and its gone. Like the perfume of an exotic flower just beyond my gaze. Oddly enough, its winter here and nothing is flowering. The evergreens are all that is left of the foliage and spring has not sprung yet. Strange. I like to think someone is sitting just behind those bushes, at a table set for tea with two china cups and saucers painted in a delicate floral design with pink petals. Cucumber sandwiches cut into squares with no crust, scones and biscuits with soft butter and preserves. The tea is steeping in the matching tea pot complete with cozy and all I need to do is cut through the greenery and sit at my spot. And there are spoons, naturally.

This reminds me of the honeysuckle in North Province RI. I would walk Anna around the neighborhood where we lived and there was one spot, down a side street, where you would be walking and suddenly the sweet smell of honeysuckle would flood over you. I spent so much time looking for the actual plant but I could never locate where the smell was coming from. Like a fool, I would turn this way and that, sniffing the air like a hound trying to find the trail of a fox. A few steps beyond and the cloud would vanish. The invisible honeysuckle cloud.  And here we have the invisible Earl Grey tea cloud. 

Monday, January 16, 2012

No hot water

That is what we woke up to today...no hot water. The "new" hot water tank (Only about a year old) that sits suspended on the bathroom wall, was unresponsive. Dennis began the process of finding out why...which led to having to go out to buy new batteries because the volt meter needed new batteries. He ruled out the need for a new fuse and also ruled out the volt meter, since even with a new power source...neither of the two we have here would work. By then the morning nurse had arrived but alas there was no hot water for Denise's shower. Thinking ahead, Dennis had filled our biggest pot with water and heated it on the stovetop (very Money Pit of him) and the nurses used what we had for Denise.

Off to the largest local hardware store for a volt meter, Dennis reappeared 30 minutes later to inform us that the store was closed for lunch, from 12-2PM.  He hadn't even considered this possibility since the store he was visiting was quite large..but they do indeed close down completely for lunch. Imagine your local Home Depot closing from noon to 2PM, for lunch, every single day.

Dennis now heads back out to see if he can locate a volt meter and then return to test the element on the heater and the thermostat. Then once he determines which is failing, he has to return to the store to purchase the part. We may have hot water by dinner! No, that's right...we won't..even if he fixes it today, the water tank takes 4 hours to heat. So we may have hot water tomorrow!!!

Poor Dennis!

Sunday, January 15, 2012

In search of Mimosa

Mimosa is a fluffy yellow flower that blossoms in the winter season here along the southern part of France. It is used in the making of perfume and when you find enough of it, the sent is heavy in the air.



So for our Sunday drive, Bernard took us in search of Mimosa and we headed West-ish from Menton up and above Grasse.  Although the season of Mimosa is only just beginning, we found plenty of the bright yellow bushes to feast our eyes upon.

Along the way we also found a rural honey store where we stopped and made a purchase. Once on our way we stopped to pick some of the mimosa that was growing over the road..quickly and with stealth in case we were caught for trespassing.




The search for a perfect luncheon place ensued next but nothing we found had the combination of view, affordability and menu selection that the menfolk could agree on.

Finally, in one valley we found a local hotel that also boasted a restaurant where Bernard and Dennis could finally settle for our meal (mostly because the hour for lunch was late)

We were not disappointed. The service and care was superb and the meal was delightful. From the start to finish (the owner provided a round of drinks on the house as a treat) we sat for over three hours laughing, eating and drinking. I enjoyed my first roasted pheasant experience and had a taste of Dennis' mystery fish special which came filled in a pastry shell with a side of curry couscous. I may have eaten too much bread but it was so wonderful with this perfect chewy crust. I am ashamed to admit that when Bernard wasn't looking, I stuffed three extra rolls into my Michael Kors purse :)

I don't remember much about the ride home because it was A: dark and B: I was in a food induced coma.

Thank you Bernard for another enjoyable outing where we ate traditional French cuisine and drank in the scenery of this lovely country!







Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Things I've lost, Things I've gained

So here is a silly list I have compiled of the things I miss about the USA when I am in France: (in no particular order)

Free parking almost everywhere I need to go

Microwave popcorn

Chocolate chips

Roads that don't make me carsick when we drive 

My car

My king sized bed

Iced coffee (no, making it at home is NOT the same)

Privacy

My family and friends

Mint frozen yogurt from Publics

A bath tub

Screens on the windows

Air conditioning 

A bathroom and a kitchen I can actually fit in without bruising some part of my body

Speaking the language easily (but still not well)

A dishwasher

A garbage disposal

And on the flip side, this is my missing things about France list that I notice most when I'm stateside:

The views from everywhere you look

The pastry, bread and food available

The sea outside my window

Afternoon naps

The wine 

The cheese (its ridiculous how much is so readily available)

The frozen yogurt (only in the summer, down in Menton)

Anna (since she is here in France now)

Walking by the olive tree garden 

The Roman ruin next door

Walking along the sea with Dennis and Anna

Sunday drives into the mountains and eating out

Bernard cooking for us on Saturdays

The sounds of the sirens here (yes, I like them)

Waking up in the middle of the night to the moon shinning in our bedroom window

The quiet pace of our life here

The constant state of adventure (even going grocery shopping can be an adventure)












Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Memories of Home

While we were up visiting my family in RI for a week this past December I had some real fun times. Let me tell you about shopping at the Outlet Stores in Wrentham MA with my mom.

To understand this fully you need to know that even in non-holiday seasons, these outlet stores are traps. By traps I mean, you get trapped in traffic starting on the highway off ramp, then trapped in the parking lot, then trapped driving endlessly looking for a parking spot. Then you get trapped in lines with other humans.

But my mother and I both share a common problem. We have impossible feet. Without getting too detailed here, lets say that it is difficulty to find a shoe that fits, looks reasonably well and doesn't cause excruciating pain in several steps.  There are a limited few choices of shoe manufacturers and these outlet stores have several stores within that group. So brave the traps we did.

There was no traffic....we had no trouble finding a parking spot, things we looking good.  The weather was ridiculously cold and windy but we sally forth anyway.  After acquiring a map (naturally) we were able to concentrate on each desired target. The stores were crowded and hot but mostly we were doing well. Until we realized that no, I repeat NO shoes were fitting.

We reach yet another store on our list, packed with woman carrying shoe boxes, husbands carrying purses and children sitting on the benches texting their luckier friends who weren't stuck there.  I find four shoes I think may work, plop down on a bench, strip off my coat, gloves, sneakers and socks..begin to try on some shoes..EPIC FAIL. One pair looked good but felt too tight so I grab my purse and barefoot dash over to the place I found them to get another size. I dash back to my coat, sneakers and other shoe boxes. An ogre of a woman is standing near my things, looming. I proceed to pick up my boxes and sit back down.

"Can I have my sneakers?!" The ogre demands

"Um..I don't know where your sneakers are, I'm sorry" I reply

"You have them! The sales girl left them on this bench!" Ogre slim hits me as it stands a little too close this time.

"No, these are my boxes. They were sitting here where I left them" I explain

Then the ogre proceeds to grab, in its fat sweaty hands, the box at the top of my pile I am holding on my lap. And she walks off to another bench.

Flabbergasted, I simply watch the drama unfold.

She takes off her huge shoe, which had small village children stuck in the tread, pops open my box, discovers my black heels and gets up brandishing her foot ware, storms over to me.

Meanwhile, I notice a massive orange box marked SNEAKERS sitting on the shelf next to me.

The ogre has reached me by now. I reach for my sword but realize I forgot to wear it, thinking I would not need it here at the outlet stores.

"Looking for those?" I ask and point to the gargantuan orange box

 It grunted in reply and grabbing the box, storms off in the other direction.

UNBELIEVABLE

Store number three and I was done! I had enough of this adventure.

Needless to say, neither my mother nor I purchased anything that day, though we tried valiantly. Heading back out to the car I realized again how many silver grey Camrys there are in this world. Too many to be exact.  We could not find the car. Laughing hysterically, and freezing nearly to death, we walked endlessly with me holding the unlock button high above my head like a beacon, pressing the button over and over again in an effort to locate the car. We could hear it but couldn't find it. Where ever it was though, it was definitely unlocked! And I feel certain that the car saw us the entire time. Finally we found it, fell into it and immediately someone was waiting to park in our spot. Leaving the parking lot, the line of cars entering was barely moving and endless. We had just escaped!

Never ever a dull moment when my mom and I decide to do something.

Back to Reality?

I ask it as a question because how "real" can my life be right now? If you stop and think about it, I live in the SOUTH OF FRANCE next to a Roman ruin that was a tomb and that is over 2,000 years old. I walk by it every single day. There I am, walking my dog in the morning, the air is crisp, the local homeless man bids my good morning (I think), the butcher shop opens for the delivery of half a cow, the joggers jostle past me and sea gulls laugh over my head...and I pass a 2,000 year old Roman tomb. Not even close to my reality.

Or is the unreal becoming my real? The abnormal my normal? The impossible becoming...you get the idea.

Driving into Nice last night over a road Napoleon built, I got to thinking about how adaptive humans can be if they allow themselves. I add that because I often feel myself hanging on with both hands to the past, refusing to adapt to the present. Shame, Shame, Shame.  Life can change on you so fast. It feels like minutes ago I was living with Anna in a loft apartment along the Blackstone River, in my next breath I was in a room off my parents' kitchen sleeping on a futon with Anna making mouth noises in the dark of night, curled up on her ratty corduroy pillow next to me. And then I blinked my eyes and I was living in Florida with Dennis listening to the calls of Sand Hill Cranes and alligators barking across the swamp behind our condo. And here I am, living in a flat with my mother-in-law with views of the sea. The Mediterranean Sea.

My reality used to be wearing scrubs everyday, eating lunch in 15 minutes so I could nap in my car under the shady trees of an industrial complex off highway 1. I make a full meal now for lunch and we often sip wine and finish with dessert. I work at my laptop sitting in front of a window that opens to the mountain peak above Monaco. I wash my clothes in something the size of a dishwasher and I have to turn the water heater on hours before I plan on taking a shower because washing the lunch dishes used up all the hot water. I walk my dog along an olive tree garden that holds hundreds of years of memories and I understand nothing that the passing people say.

What will my next breath bring?


Thursday, January 5, 2012

There is always a dark side

Life is full of lessons, isn't it? Dennis and I were walking back to our hotel on the last night of Paris when we passed a restaurant with an empty window seat.  A table for two with fresh flowers in a vase and the top of the Eiffel Tower visible from the window.

"Ohhh! Let's eat here babe. It's perfect" I said

"I don't know...maybe we should keep looking" Dennis replied

"But BABE! Look at how perfect it is, by the window...close to the hotel. I really want to eat here. Go in and make a reservation!" I pleaded. "If it looks scary when you go inside, just walk back out" I tell him as I shove him toward the door.

"But it looks weird" Dennis said over his shoulder as I shoved him toward the door.

A few moments later Dennis appears again through the door with a funny look on his face. We had reservations for the window table at 7:30 PM but Dennis looked like he had reservations of his own.

"What's wrong" I keep asking as we walk through the wet streets back toward our hotel.

"It was weird. The woman didn't speak French..she didn't understand me when I asked her for the reservation. She kept talking to me in military time."  Dennis explained.

I felt hopeful regardless. How bad could it be? After all, we are in Paris.

An hour later we walk back to the mystery restaurant and Dennis mood hasn't improved. When we arrive, we are the only customers.  As we are seated I am immediately aware of very loud music blaring from the TV on the wall.  There are balloons strung along the ceiling and at least 4 mechanical Santa dolls moving in time to the music. With each passing song, the music gets louder and faster.  The hostess and the server are standing behind the front area, riveted to the TV set. The special menu was several euros more now, in comparison to when we first walked by.

We came to recognize that we were in a Romanian restaurant, specializing in authentic Romanian food (or as Dennis put it, "Iron Curtain Food")  Writing about the food here would bring it back clearly into my mind and that is something I do not wish to do. Let me just say, the music's pace was pushing us along and we could not get out of that place fast enough. I felt a moral obligation to warn off any future customers so every time someone stopped in the window to read the special, I shook my head and gave them "Don't Do It!" eyes.

We walked to the metro and rode a train to Champs-Elysees to drink in the last moments of the Paris night. The huge sidewalks were full of people milling about, Christmas shopping villages selling gifts and roasted chestnuts. The lights hanging in the trees changed colors every few minutes and it was very cold.  We walked all the way to the Arc de Triomphe. Even though my feet felt like bloody stumps of pain, the beauty made it hard to notice. There simply was not enough time to fully absorb everything around me but even the brief taste we had was intoxicating.

We ended that night back at the Officer's Cafe with a beautiful salad that was topped with wonton wrapped, deep fried goats cheese. YUM.  After a whiskey or two...we both felt father away from Romania and sad to leave Paris.


Sunday, January 1, 2012

The end always comes to soon

My final morning of possibilities in Paris started much the same. The weather was overcast and cold but I didn't feel it. With my snazzy new tourist hat on, I was warm and ready for my river boat shuttle.

We had both agreed that our feet needed some help so we bought tickets for the river shuttle and cruised down the Seine like the tourists we were. The entire boat was encased in glass so we were well protected from rain and wind. Starting from the Eiffel (yes I snapped 30 more pictures as we walked by her) the shuttle took us down river, stopping at Museum d'Orsay (where extensive lines had us continuing on our way) I wanted to see the art inside but didn't want to waste precious hours waiting in lines. Sadly, we will have to return for a view of the inside of this museum.

We walked down toward the Alexander III bridge, one of the most beautiful sites in Paris in my humble opinion. A gift from Russia to France, this bridge is difficult to photograph and really capture the grandeur and over-the-top artistry. Pointless to even try but valiantly I tried anyway to photograph it.

The sculptures, the gold work, the sheer size of this bridge is baffeling to the mind, even when you are standing on it, walking across it. Who sees bridges like this? And who gives bridges as a gift? Can't find that perfect gift for the special someone in your life? For the man who has everything, how about a bridge?


Really, who but the French give gifts of that magnitude. We didn't know what to do with the Statue of Liberty so we built her a whole island. This bridge, people who live here just cross it, every day. Cars and pedestrians alike. I walk slowly across, stopping every three seconds to snap another shot. Pointing to Dennis and waving my arms like a fool, "Look at that!, Look over there!" We just don't have anything like this at home.

We don't see structures that are living works of art like this. What Americans do with steak and shopping centers, fields of corn and the Grand Canyon, the French do with steel and stone. marble and granite. Bigger, more, greater.

Back on the river shuttle, we made our way to Notre Dame. The most massive and ornate church imaginable. Not particularly beautiful but darkly looming on the horizon. The clouds happened to be framing it exactly like a gothic novel would describe, mysterious and fear inspiring.
Almost daring us to enter, to walk across it's imagined holy floors. Inside we saw countless tombs of Paris' mighty religious men enshrined, almost completely obscuring the "god" they profess to adore and serve. Endless painting of suffering humans and a ever luminous Mary serene yet aloof, watching everything but never lifting her finger to help any of those begging for her mercy. She seems almost to smile at the penitent masses.  For a few euros you could buy a candle to light to any saint you wanted. To finish the whole scene, a nun was stationed at the exit with a cup full of coins, begging. Someone had been thoughtful enough to provide for her comfort with a folding chair.

Once breathing the free and un-hypocritical air outside again, we strolled across the street and found our way into gift shops and a bar were we warmed up with mulled wine. As it turned out, we were now in the Latin Quarter of town, with restaurants, shops and something happening on every corner and down every street. Movement and light everywhere.

We walked back through those streets, with the sun setting through the cloud streaked skies and made our way back down to the river once more. Up the other side toward the Louvre and onward to Madame Eiffel.  We disembarked at our place of origin and walked to our hotel, passing once more under the magical lights of Paris all around us.

Now... where would we have dinner on our last night in the City of Love?