Wrong! Didn't land at Toulouse at all. Time rubs the edge of accuracy . Bordeaux it was, where we picked up a very nice little Renault 5, and set off down the road towards Toulouse. No satnavs of course, and navigating with an old fashioned map. To cut a long story short, we found Rangeuil, and the Elf petrol station which was the indicator that we were below the flat. Great welcome from Linda and Patrick. Linda's job was teaching air traffic controllers and pilots English. Pretty important when you think about it. Patrick worked with space satellites, I think working on software. Patrick was soon back from work, we sat on the balcony to wait for him. He arrived, and we launched in to our first ever meal on French soil. Always an experience. Aperitifs and Digestifs must be taken into consideration. And three hours must be set aside. Happy memories. M et Mme Moreau were...
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I think I left you somewhere in the USA after months of working in the beautiful New England town of Thomaston, Maine. In this catalogue of a lifetime of travel I think that the next excursion was to Hong Kong, the first of many visits and I'll come back to there in this journal more than once. And also in that period we made out first visit to the Languedoc - the South West of France. Our dear friends, Linda and Patrick live in Toulouse, then they lived in the city but now in a nice village called St Orens.. They have been a regular stopping place over the years. And our first visit was way back in 1976. They were living in a very nice flat in the Rangueil area of the city. So picking up the journeys afresh after a two month sabbatical, I'm catching a plane Glasgow to Toulouse, and sharing with you one of my favourite areas in one of my favourite countries.
It is good to travel hopefully, and to arrive too!
It's time to be leaving the United States behind for now. My next blog will come from the exotic Far East. But meantime, to close the chapter on New England. You'll remember that I was on a jet place, while wife and sister-in-law were left behind on an airbridge at Logan International clutching tickets and a little money. On I flew headed for Portland, Maine and the warm welcome of Henry (Hank) Carey. One of the finest men I ever knew. And the welcome WAS warm. I checked when I arrived on the 3rd of July evening and was told that I had come off the last flight from Boston that evening. Consternation. What were those girls going to do? Hank was very laid back. "We'll just head up on the road, they'll catch up somehow." I wasn't so convinced. Meanwhile, back in Boston, they had been told that there was a small airline - twin propellors and zero altitude that would be bunny hopping up the coast a little later....
Leaving on a jet plane
I think I left you on an inter-terminal shuttle at JFK. So arriving at the desk for Boston was busy but all going well apart from being behind schedule. Short flight to Logan, and discovered we had to run like mad for the Delta to Portland Maine and Hank Carey. Arriving at the desk the agent said "Over there. The gate's closing". Down the air bridge and the aircraft door was just closing. "I've only got one seat left" the stewardess proclaimed. The ladies decided I'd better go and meet up with Hank. As the door closed behind me, I heard them yell "Tickets! Money!" and my hand - I'm told - appeared round the edge of the hatch, clutching the necessary. I collapsed into the remaining seat. The stewardess said to me, "You cut that fine sir. Can I fetch you a drink?" I had a vision of an ice cold G+T with condensation on the glass. Back she came. "No sorry. This flight originated in Tampa, ...
"Welcome to America"
It's amazingly two weeks since I last had you joining me in the States in a little New England town called Thomaston - the town that went to sea. My other visits to the US and Canada have been sparse. A nice family holiday also in New England; a stop over in Honolulu; a bus side trip from Miami Airport to Miami Springs; a stop over in Los Angeles; a trip to St Anne de Beaupre and Quebec City. But there is one more tale I wanted to share from that very first trip to the US. As I mentioned, it was the 3rd of July, and all true Americans were travelling, north and south, east and west to join families for Independence Day celebrations. It was a very hot and sticky day. Our entry point into the US was at JFK New York. We flew along the flight path and looking down could see that great symbol of Independence, the Statue of Liberty standing on its own island in New York Harbour. Immigration took its time. The plan then was that we - I was accompa...
Olentzero
A rest from my own travels takes us to the Basque Country in northern Spain. At Christmas time we often sing carols from that region - such as "Infant King" and " The Angel Gabriel". I came across this account of Basque Christmases on Buber.net. And I thought it charming. "For the Basque people Christmas has always been one of the most well-loved holidays of the year. Having the whole family round to have Christmas dinner together, our carols and our ancient customs, such as the Olentzero have always been in the centre of the celebration which we, as Basque live with great intensity. Because for the Basque people Christmas means festivals "par excellence". Nowadays as in the rest of the world, Christmas has become very consumerist, but in Euskadi it is more than just that. It is the reflection of the history of a country, with traditions that have been handed down by our ancestors, and which still remain in almost all of the families in Euska...