Prague

After leaving Ste. Foy de la Grande, we traveled back to Paris, meandered to the airport and flew to Prague, arriving late in the evening. The owners of the B&B we stayed at were incredibly helpful and kind – with lots of advice on getting around the city, the most worthwhile sights to see, and good restaurant recommendations. We happened to be visiting during Prague Spring – an international music festival – and were lucky enough to be given free tickets to an organ concert held at St. Nikolaus Church.



After the concert we strolled through Old Town and watched as the town clock struck the hour – a must-see for the tourists.



The following day we toured the Strahov Monastery’s Library. (Yes, one would think from the previous post that I'd had my fill of monasteries on this trip, but apparently not.) One of my favorite pictures is of a part of the library which contains the banned books. (Hint: click on the picture, then look closely at the middle of the room towards the ceiling at the two “doors” outlined in gold.) I'm not sure what exactly a monk needed to do in order to get permission to view any of the banned books kept here.



The main hallways of the library are filled with specimens. DH was fascinated with the dodo bird.



At the Prague Castle, we toured St. Vitus Cathedral





and the Old Palace. They used to hold jousts in this room for the amusement of the ladies of the court. In fact, they built the doorways high enough so that the knight and his horse could ride into the room.



On our third day, touring the Jewish quarter was a somber experience.



We also went to the site of the original castle in Prague, called Vysehrad, which is now a lovely park overlooking the city.

Everywhere you go, there is beauty to be found, from buildings



to bridges



to cemeteries.





I didn’t find yarn in Prague – but then I wasn’t looking very hard. I was trying to avoid making this a fibre tour while DH was with me – the fibre tour comes later on…

In Which Our Heroine Realizes She is a Flawed Human Being

After spending our one brief night in Paris, we boarded the high-speed train to Libourne, then a regional train to Sainte Foy la Grande. From there, we were met by a cousin who lives here





and is studying to become a Buddhist monk. It was a full day of traveling, but the countryside was beautiful, especially as we traveled south into the wine country of Bordeaux.

We spent an interesting 2 days here. I managed to knit some while here, but the days were quite full of activities – and evenings were short since bells began waking the community at 5 a.m. The only “down” side was the weather – it rained most of the time we were at the monastery but the countryside was still beautiful.



We had the chance to visit an 11th century church located about 6 km from the monastery.





We lived (as much as we could in our uneducated way) as the monks do for two days…two loooong days. And I’m sorry to report that the experience made me realize that I am a completely shallow human being – because two days was more than plenty for me. And I could never give up the stash in order to lead a life of poverty. I really respect our cousin for the choice he has made. As for me, I came away grateful to get back to the world and happy to feel re-connected to what is happening in the world.

The strong yarn mojo has continued. (In retrospect, I firmly believe it was the yarn mojo which got us bumped up to business class on the flight. Or was it because the knitting gods don't mind when I go into the state of Illinois as long as I have the intent to leave the state as soon as possible and do not engage in any knitting activities there?)

Well, the yarn mojo continued – even in rural France. On the day we left, our cousin drove us to Ste. Foy la Grande early so he could show us a little bit of the town before we had to board the train. We were walking down a street, in search of a specific bakery he wanted to take us to, when all of a sudden my head whipped around so fast I’m shock I didn’t end up with severe case of whiplash. My knitting subconscious saw a shop - across the street - named PHILDAR. I stood in the middle of the sidewalk for a minute, wondering why I was starring at that shop, until I realized what my knitting instincts already knew.

This could only mean one thing, children.

Yarn.

They tried to camouflage the fact that they sold yarn by having only clothing in the front windows and clothing in the front of the store. But the knitting mojo was not so easily fooled. Unfortunately, I did not have the presence of mind to take a picture of the shop. I controlled myself – only purchased enough for a child’s scarf – mainly because DH was there and I didn’t want to load myself down with purchases this early in the trip.



Excuse the crap photo - it's hard to surreptitiously take a photo while DH is completing his morning ablution. I can't think of any reasons I could give that he would not immediately question. Any ideas for when DH finally does catch me photographing my yarn?

Oo-La-La

This was the view out of our hotel window.



DH and I arrived in Paris - to spend one night there. Sadly, we could not find more time in the schedule to devote to Paris, or more specifically it's yarn shops, but I will be back.

We arrived in the early evening, so we got to the hotel, dropped our bags, and hit the streets of Paris. We went to a wonderful little restaurant - where the waitstaff kindly interpreted the menu for us. (DH's smattering of Portugese and my very limited smattering of Spanish and German were not helpful.)

We then went walking and found this.





I kept starting to talk like Pepe LePew or a castmember of Gigi.

This is what being in Paris does to a person who has watched too much television.

When Was the Last Time You Wished the Flight Lasted Longer?

Dateline: O'Hare



The Stash Haus is on the move. Here are photos from May 14th. We began our adventure at O’Hare - and what an adventure it was. A VERY kind lady who checked us in at BA bumped us up to BUSINESS CLASS. (I was nearly in tears of gratitude because I had stayed up all night at the office. I got home Monday morning about 8 a.m. to finish packing.)



We had access to “the Lounge”. Very quiet, private area but near the gate. The décor is about the same as the doctor’s office – you know, those wood frame, padded chairs, IKEA-looking tables – but the perks! We had access to a free bar with fruit and snacks, free telephone (including long distance – and you bet I called the family!), large screen plasma TV, free dining.

The meal…I shall never be able to eat overpriced airport vendor food again. The dinner buffet consisted of 4 salads, tomato cream soup, bread and butter, assorted seafood in cream sauce, an Indian chicken dish, roasted vegetables, quiche. For dessert, fruit, cheese, brownies, cookies.

We stayed in The Lounge until they announced they were ready for us to board. I never knew this – all the people in economy board ahead of time. So this is why they herd the masses on board 40 minutes to 1 hour before departure - so all the First Class and Business Class privileged few do not have to associate with the masses. We walked, through an empty gate area, onto the plane about 10 minutes before we left the gate. We were shown to out seats, which reclined ALL THE WAY DOWN. We were able to actually sleep on the flight to Heathrow. The seats have enough room that you can actually turn on your side to sleep.

And the service on the flight! My, oh my! I've never met such nice stewards and stewardess - is it because of the class or because there were at least 4 crew members waiting on about 30 people. First, we were given our own headphones – and not the flimsy, cheapskate, little things they hand out in economy class. – then came the small glasses of champagne – then the very warm/bordering on hot, moist handtowels, The seats each had pillows and quilted blankets. They then handed out kits with toiletries and a menu which listed all the services provided. We each had our own remote control for our personal TV/movie screen.





We woke up refreshed – feeling few effects of jetlag. They served us breakfast - in bed.

This has indeed spoiled me and DH. How shall we ever tolerate economy level standards again?

We landed at Heathrow and boarded another flight.



Stay tuned for the next dateline.

Buried Under

As earlier predicted on this blog, I am indeed buried under at work...and have been for awhile. (Bad blogger! Bad!)

The full story as to why shall be revealed next week, so stay tuned.

So, to fill the gap of non-blogable material occurring since the end of April, (hey - I even missed TWO alpaca festivals due to a lack of time for any leisure activity!) I'll share my photos from when I and some of my family went to an exhibit earlier this spring.

We went to this exhibit.



Sadly, one of the more interesting bits was the documentary about the women playing on a TV/VCR in a small conference room. I think it was this documentary.

I was very disappointed to find that only 1 of the original quilts was on display - the advertising of the exhibit certainly left out that fact - so I felt a bit cheated at the cost of admission.




Although many now know the stories of the women who labored over these quilts, I would like to know the stories of each person whose clothes are the fabric of the quilts.

I really regret not seeing the original exhibit that toured the country.