Arrival

The Air France flight from Toronto - early evening departure, early morning arrival in Paris - was not unpleasant, although the food was surprisingly awful. We got virtually no sleep. I might have been unconscious for ten minutes, Karen says she had none. No customs inspection when we arrived (or at Montpellier where we picked up our checked bags), a wave-through at passport control: good way to travel to Europe if you're a terrorist. Then the usual marathon hike through Charles de Gaulle from international arrivals to regional departures. I was so tired I was almost literally reeling. Slept briefly in incredibly uncomfortable chairs in departure lounge, where we waited almost four hours for our flight to Montpellier.

Place de la Comédie

We arrived in our winter home in sunshine and 11 degrees. Whoop! Soldiers with submachine guns in the baggage hall. Gilles - of 'Annie et Gilles', our landlords - was waiting with a sign with our names, not needed as he instantly guessed which ones were his new tenants as we came through the doors into the arrivals hall. (I could tell by the look on his face and the hesitant wave.) Guy about our age, maybe older, maybe younger - who knows? He thankfully spoke English, as we were too tired to think about (or in) French. His English is better than I guessed from our brief phone conversation when we were setting up the rental. It was barely a 20 minute drive into the apartment.

The street where we live

Annie, who was waiting there for us, strikes me as a very proper, reserved French lady (Gilles more a free spirit.) Annie spoke mostly French. Karen stepped up and did the listening. Her comprehension skills were always better than mine. I freeze when someone speaks French, and if I do understand, it takes 20 seconds or longer for it to sink in, by which time they've said something else, or drawn the conclusion that I'm an idiot (which, yes, of course, I am). One thing I missed was what Annie said about Gilles having owned two art galleries. I only noticed the poster from one of them on the wall this morning. He also told us he had owned a hotel. Interesting couple. They live somewhere in the country north of Beziers.

In front of our apartment building

The apartment is perfection. Marble floors, well equipped kitchen, good layout, fabulous balcone, big enough to accommodate separate dining and lounging areas. (The question is, will we get any sun on it while we're here? Maybe by March, Karen thinks.) We have a great (queen) bed in the master bedroom. The place is extremely quiet, and dark when the blinds are lowered. And it's well heated. We will be very comfortable here, and so will our guests. Annie gave us the tour and showed us how all the mod cons worked, en français. Gilles took us down to show us where our bikes are stored (they look absolutely fine), and how we get them outside.

After they left, we went for a brief walk around the nearby streets and did a shop for breakfast stuff at a Carrefour (big French supermarket chain) around the corner, then managed to stay awake, unpacking etc., until 8:30 pm. With the help of good ol' Gravol, I stayed mostly asleep until 8:30 the next morning, Karen (who was up in the night) slept in until more like 9:30. So we've caught up to some extent and should be on local time now, or close to it.

Square near our apartment

It's very quiet in Montpellier on Sunday morning, other than the loudly drunk rasta man playing his guitar at the tram stop a couple of blocks away today. I was out briefly in the late morning. Now, early afternoon, I need to pry Karen loose from her newspapers and brochures...

Tram stop near apartment

Later. We did go out for an hour-or-so walk. The first stop was supposed to be the Carrefour for more shopping, but it was already closed. So we went up the pedestrianized shopping street across the way (everything closed up tight as a drum), down to the beautiful Place de la Comédie (tourist central where everything was open), a quick visit to the tourist office (where I picked up a bicycle path map - even asked for it in French and managed to make myself understood!), into a mall (mostly closed) in search of groceries, then into the park, past the Musée Fabre, the main art museum, and home by a slightly different route that took us past a small supermarché that was open, and where we bought just enough for dinner.

Weather: sunny, 9C, but a cool wind. We're probably in for the day now, very tired. But we've got lots of time here.

Place de la Comédie