Uncategorized

Did I mention that I’m sick? It started three days ago, as sniffles. I assumed it was perhaps allergies? The trees are all in bud here, and even tho my seasonal allergies are usually hay-fever in mid-August, who knows? these are different trees and plants – maybe I’m allergic to them.
Then the sneezing started. Okay, so maybe a head cold. But now I started to get worried. I am masked all the time on board and on tours, but not when eating. Ditto the rest of the passengers.
Thursday I felt a tickle in my throat. Crap. This does not bode well. I avoided people all day, having lunch at an outdoor patio in Rouen, rather than in the boat’s enclosed dining room. And the first thing I did upon receiving my suitcase (other than cuddle and carress it for five minutes) was a COVID test. Negative. Whew.
But by Friday night, it had turned into full blown laryngitis. I carried a series of notes to show people – one stated: LARYNGITIS – but don’t worry – my COVID test was negative; and another one said: Une champagne SVP ( I still have my priorities).

I went to bed very worried – what if it’s COVID & I can’t get home. I mean it’s not like the trip hasn’t already been one disaster after another – this would just be the icing on the cake.

Last night I wore two different outfits, just because I could (not simultaneously, of course – one for cocktails, and one for dinner). The three other ladies-sans-valises were both happy for me and a tad jealous.
Ditto today: my lounge-around-the-boat-as-we-cruise ensemble of the morning was different from my touring-Versailles outfit in the afternoon. No reason, just ’cause.

Of the three different tours one could do in Versailles, I opted for Marie Antoinette’s Petit Trianon & little hamlet. I’ve toured the palace before, and while I would have loved to have wandered the gardens (the last time I was here the gardens had been decimated by storms), this sounded more interesting.
And it was – a good guide, spectacular weather, and minimal crowds. The flowers have all started blooming and the little vegetable gardens had rows and rows of tiny lettuces and budding herbs and sprouts. Those aristocrats were something; until Louis XV came along, the nobility didn’t eat anything that grew in the ground – that was for peasants. They ate meat and fruit (not even any dairy really either) and that was pretty much it. But Louis XV started a vegetable garden and also made eating cheese and cream more the “In” thing.

It was the gala dinner in the evening – I think they must be short-staffed in the dining room – for the second time in 3 days I witnessed a waiter making his impatience with the guests very obvious?!?!
Was introduced to a quiet little bar at the back of the ship that I hadn’t seen before – how is it possible that I, Elaine Reid, missed a bar? Sacré Bleu !

I commented to someone that I was surprised at the percentage of Americans on this trip – there are 110 guests and of those: 4 are Canadian, 2 are British, 2 Brazilian, 2 from Singapore, and 2 from East Asia. That is unusual on these cruises; there is often more of a balance among nationalities. She pointed out that today is all about D-Day and the Normandy Invasion – it only makes sense at the larger percentage from the US. For today Uniworld organized 2 specific full-day excursions: one that focuses solely on US beaches and memorials, and one that focuses on Commonwealth beaches – the latter is a much shorter tour, so they add in the Bayeux Tapestry. I nearly went on the tour just for that; I would have loved to have seen it. But the beaches and the war don’t really interest me, I feel there is enough war in the world at the moment without my spending a whole day re-visiting one, and the bus trip was 6 hours (round trip), so 11 hours doing things I didn’t want to do just for 60 minutes at the tapestry didn’t make sense to me.
Instead I stayed in Rouen and wandered around. Jeez, these people were church-mad in the Middle Ages – at one point I thought I had got lost and ended up back at the same cathedral I had just visited, but then realized that, no, it was just another massive, yet equally stunning stone church less then 3 blocks from the cathedral. They are all very beautiful – I like thinking about the artisans and craftsmen who built these churches – altho the buildings are not to my taste, they are very, very beautiful. I had planned on dining in L’epicurius, a one-star Michelin starred restaurant (the website said open), but the sign on the door said closed for Easter week. Ah well, there was a creperie next door, so I sat on the terrasse, surrounded by locals, and had a lovely ham & cheese gallette and a glass of rosé. So French.

Eventually it was time to go back and unpack my suitcase. (I think we all know what’s coming next, don’t we?) Back onboard – no luggage.
It was 3:30 – we called the transport company who advised us that indeed, my suitcase was in Rouen. Yay! And they would deliver it tomorrow. Boo! We explained the boat would be gone by then, and were met with the telephonic version of the Gallic shrug. Qu’est-ce qu’on peut faire?

I asked if I could come and get it and was told, bien sûr. So the boat called me a taxi and off we went. 40 minutes to a little village in the middle of nowhere (I really thought he was trying to scam my fare) to the Chronopost outlet. They looked at me blankly when I asked for my suitcase. “No madame, il n’y a pas de valise ici.” When I just stood there, staring, she tried to explain in very broken English. “Non,” I said in French, “I understood you, I just can’t believe you”. She went on her system and said, oh yes, madame, Chronopost does have your suitcase, but not here in Crichebeuf; it’s in Petit Quevilly. Of course it is. I got back in the taxi (the meter was already at 60 Euros) and off we went. We drove and drove, and next thing I knew I was at a warehouse 5 minutes away from our boat, just across the river. My suitcase & I were re-united (it was a touching moment). And I headed back to our ship. That 1 & 1/2 hour, €118 trip could have been 20 minutes and €15. Ach weel, I have my clothes. Let me just say it again: I HAVE MY CLOTHES!
*Just to wrap up the Normandy beaches story – the others returned late in the evening and said it had been an informative, interesting and very moving day, so that’s nice.

Wednesday morning: Caudebec en Caux is a pretty little town, but I think we are here simply because it is the furthest downstream that cruise ships go. Bussed over some spectacular bridges and through amazing countryside to Honfleur. Many of the houses along the way were thatched – it seems they plant flowers along the ridgepoles of the roofs to keep the top layer of thatch from getting damaged – hunh.

Honfleur really was lovely – tall, narrow houses against a cliff face, a harbour full of boats, art galleries by the dozens, winding cobbled streets. I’m not a big shopper, so instead I went in and out of the smaller art shops and galleries. Ever since a revelatory experience in San Francisco years ago, I’ve found going into an art shop and asking about one or two pieces leads to a bit of a tour/lecture by the shop owner, and you come away knowing far more about art than if you had visited a major gallery or museum.
Back to Caudebec for some time on our own – the church in Caudebec is absolutely stunning. Very old, almost all wood inside, and I easily spent an hour wandering around it. I tend to give most churches a cursory once over – they can be somewhat overwhelming, and the guides drone on and on, so this was the first time in a while that I’d really spent dans une église.

Still no luggage, but I did receive an email from the transport company telling me my ‘colis’ (parcel) would arrive between 1 & 3 tomorrow (I checked; they had exactly the right boat name, exactly the right address, and exactly the right contact info – clean clothes, here you come!!)

I posted that last one just before lunch, having resigned myself to a luggage-less trip.

No. No. I don’t accept that. I am not taking this lying down. British Air owes me a suitcase, dammit. First I emailed the twit at BA Baggage in London who suggested I get in touch with the courier directly and suggested that “as it was British Air that lost my suitcase, I am going to suggest that you get in touch with the courier directly”. I translated a set of instructions with address, phone number, and a pointed yet polite message setting my expectations, and told the guy from London to send that when he gets in touch the courier to use my message.

Then I phoned BA Paris and informed the clerk that his options A or B (see previous post) were unacceptable, and I expected to receive my suitcase by noon on Thursday, when we would be in Rouen (all day, right in the centre of town, easy to find, not moving for hours, no excuses about ‘missing the boat’). D’accord.

An hour later I received my first official-looking email from British Air: a form with locator codes, baggage codes, the correct Rouen address, dates, and times. Pushing back worked – I think we’re getting somewhere. Hah! (that ‘hah’ is of course the triumph of hope over experience)

I have a much better feeling about the courier’s ability to find the boat today – we’re right in middle of town, easy to spot. My luggage should arrive soon. Ummm, not so fast, toots.
I was here about 7 or 8 years ago, but due to one thing or another, the only places I visited were pharmacies. We passed both of those pharmacies on our walking tour – nice to see they’re still doing well.

Our tour was fascinating. Like many European towns, the conversation started about destruction during the war and the subsequent re-construction, all very interesting and eye-opening. But then we turned a corner, and we went back 600 years.
Cobbled streets, open marketplace, true half-timbered houses and shops, a massive stone cathedral, a tiny wooden church. Absolutely wonderful. We’re back here on Thursday and I can’t wait to re-visit the places the guide showed us and really soak the town in. Everyone promised me Rouen was beautiful and it hasn’t disappointed.

I have been receiving texts and emails from British Air telling me to contact the Parisian Courier company directly. Then when I got back from the tour I got a call from BA Baggage in Paris, telling me Rouen was too far, and I had two options: pick up my bag at Charles De Gaulle on my way home, or have it shipped to my house in Scotland. Ever the one for an easy life, I picked option A and will get it on the way out of town. So, I’m stuck with just what I’m in now (I could go shopping but I hate shopping and that’s not what I came to France for).
Ah well.

Monday: We have sailed to La Roche Guyon, only 30 minutes downriver from Paris. No reason they can’t have my bag to me by time of sailing at noon. Well, so I thought.

On the upside, what a lovely village. I have seen many many castles, chateaux, and churches on my cruises (dubbed ‘ABC cruises’ by an Aussie friend – another bloody church, another bloody castle etc…). But this place was stunning, and very different – as well as its long significance in France’s history, it was Rommel’s headquarters in the latter part of the war.
Then on to Vernon and Giverny. Again, not far from Paris, and plenty of time for the courier to find us (one would think).

It turns out there are three other women whose luggage hasn’t shown up. Like me, they are being tantalized with promises of next stop, next stop. They are with Air France, and as Uniworld booked their flights, the boat is following up. But the boat doesn’t seem to be getting any better results than I am, so . . .
The courier did phone me today and even though he clearly understood my French, he said an anglophone would call me back in 30 minutes. J’attends encore.
Vernon is a perfectly nice river town, with pretty little streets, half-timbered buildings, and of course, a church. I’ve decided I can go no longer in the same clothes I have been wearing since Saturday morning at 6am, so I’m going shopping.
It’s Monday. That may seem like a non sequitur to you, but for anyone who has ever spent time in a small European village, you will know that there is always a weekday where shops don’t open. Here, it is Monday. Splendid. Turns out there are two clothing shops and a Monoprix (supermarket) that are open, so I loaded up on socks, undies, and some outerwear. Of course, one of the shops only took cash, so I did have to go back to the boat for a debit card (it’s always something).

Every return to the boat is done with a sense of anticipation – every return is met with disappointment.
This evening was The Captain’s Welcome Gala – I rather self-consciously showed up in my ‘chic’ cheap new jeans, plain top, and my same old, same old hiking boots. But no matter what I had worn, I would have paled in comparison to the one socialite all in spangles and stilettos.
Tomorrow is Rouen – a big town near a highway – luggage will arrive tomorrow.

Sunday evening: the boat is lovely: the S.S. Joie de Vivre. We’re a couple of miles north of the Eiffel Tower. I had planned on spending the afternoon walking around the city, but now I’m just waiting on a fresh set of clothes.
Still nothing by 5:30. I’m sitting by a window, staring at every car or van that pulls into the parking lot by the quay, and drinking champagne (so maybe not a total wreck of a day).
6:15 and the captain has just finished his speech and has gone above to take off – the courier has 15 minutes. (if, as British Air advises, the bag arrived at Charles de Gaulle by 3pm, how is possible that it’s not here?)
6:32 – we’re sailing. No suitcase. I have just texted our next 2 stops to BA. Here’s hoping.

Oh, and my stateroom had 2 toothbrushes. I am now the proud owner of at least a half a dozen toothbrushes.

Sunday Morning: Remember when hotels supplied proper toiletries? You know, like toothrush, comb, toothpaste; the things one really needs if they’ve forgotten something? Nowadays it’s 2 Q-tips and a shower cap. Guess what I forgot to buy at the airport after losing my suitcase: yep, a toothbrush. Heavy sigh.

Checked out at 4am, walked to airport to be in plenty of time for whatever sea of confusion and delays awaited. Turns out, even tho my ticket said be there 3 hours in advance, the airport doesn’t open until 5am. Splendid. On the plus side, having absolutely no luggage whatsoever means I can bypass all desks & kiosks, and just stand in front of the security gates. (I’m grasping at ‘on the plus side’ straws I know. Throw me a bone here)
Made it through security a breeze. Now to do some shopping. First stop: charging cables for cell phone and tablet (by the time I move back to Canada, I will be able to knit some sort of electronic blanket with the miles of charging cables I now own). Then make-up (I know, I know: vanity, thy name is Lainey). That was a lot more work (and money) than I had anticipated, but what’s a girl to do? Being so focussed on my appearance, it wasn’t until I had long left the main shopping area and was at my gate that I realized I had not bought actual necessities of life: a toothbrush, deodorant, and a hairbrush. Crap. Popped into a mini-Boots. (You know how my earlier posts about Kirkwall were heavily themed around waste management? Well this cruise seems to be quite toothbrush-focussed.) Of the miniscule selection of toothbrushes in this shop, all those with firm bristles were cheap, and the soft bristled were £7! I refuse to pay £7 – I’ll just brush lightly. Don’t tell my dentist.

Arrived v quickly in Paris and again, with no luggage, zipped through the airport. An aside: got my first stamp in my UK passport – v exciting. I was met by the lovely rep from Uniworld at the same time as I received an encouraging call from Jas at British Air in London – they have my suitcase. Given that it’s only 10am and flights from London are 40 minutes, they feel confident they can deliver it to the boat by the time we leave the dock at 6pm. I’m just happy they have it – I really thought I would never see it again.

More to come (as a teaser: had my first encounter with a fellow passenger – let’s just say she and her husband sound delightful).

Saturday: Scout is moping; she knows I’m leaving (she knows a suitcase on the floor rarely bodes well for her). Up at 6:30, at the airport at 9am (I love living in a small town: the airport is 8 minutes away, there is plenty of parking, and I even ran into someone I know in the lounge, how local am I?) At Check In came the first setback: even tho my suitcase is within the carry-on dimensions, it is too heavy for ‘valet luggage’ – you know – that thing where you don’t check it, but at the gate they take it and put it on a trolley, then into storage and you get it back on the jetway as you exit the plane). In a situation like that, how is weight a factor? They all go in the belly of the plane. Hmm.

Great flight, beautiful views, arrived early. My next flight from Glasgow to London took off on time, made it to London again early. But, and here’s where things start to go sideways, no bags. There were 4 of us, all from the same flight, who didn’t get our luggage. We waited about 20 minutes after all the other passengers had left, then proceeded to fill in all the forms. This is where I made a classic mistake: after completing the forms with all my contact info, etc, I handed the forrm to the clerk without taking a picture of it – no record of the lost luggage claim. Damn.

I had booked a hotel in the airport, so it was only a 5-minute walk. Got to the reception desk – no reservation. Sigh. Not my day. Now to some extent, this one was on me: I had screwed around with the reservations on Thursday, cancelling, booking, re-booking, etc… But I did have Expedia’s confirmation so after much hemming & hawing, Mr. Cranky-Pants behind the desk did give me my room. Still no luggage, but at least a place to sleep (priorities, Elaine).

I set the alarm for 3:45 am, because my online boarding pass said to be there 3 hours in advance and the news this week has been all about the staffing issues with British Air and Heathrow, and the horrific wait times. In fact, the clerk in the Brit Air luggage department, upon hearing of my flight time the next morning did say, “good luck with that”.

At least I slept well.