European Vacation part 2

We're late arriving in Paris and the first order of business is to find a place to stay.  The next night was scheduled to be spent in a sleeper car between Paris and Zurich our next stop.

No problemo, we found a room in a hotel and walked all around.  It was great, Deb and I just wandering around.  The next day was for more serious sightseeing.  Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Champs-Élysées where we had dinner sitting next guy who also was in a technology industry.  We talked and when we had a half hour to take a train that ran every 5 minutes for 5 or 10 minutes, we left toward the Arc de Triomphe for the metro and on to the Gare du Nord (north train station) to collect our luggage from a locker and then to the Gare de l'Est (east train station) to catch our train.

Problemos:

1.  There are 3 or 4 metro lines passing under the Arc de Triomphe and our crappy pronunciation of Gare du Nord was unintelligible to the few who would even stop to answer our question.  Finally we got on the right metro train, fearing we were on the wrong one.

The clock is ticking.  Don't want to miss a second train connection.  We're sleeping on this leg of the trip.

2.  Neither of us thought far enough ahead to use the lockers in the Gare de l'Est.  In those days luggage didn't have wheels.  Cheap luggage didn't last.  Ergo, my suit bag shoulder strap broke.  I was already carrying one bag in each hand.  We were running and bumbling as fast as we could.

3.  This is the big one:  we saw the back of our rolling hotel leaving the station.  Crap.

4.  Now we need to find a room, call Mona and say we're not going to arrive in Zurich at 9am.  Sadly we spent all our francs on dinner, so we needed to change money.    Sadly it was 10:01 and the money changers closed at 10.  So we sought advice and was told a hotel across the street would take our pounds and give us francs, but not travelers cheques.  We walked around the block twice before we found it and he did change our money and didn't have any vacancies.

5.  We got back to the train station at 11:01 to use the international phones to find that they closed at 11.  Kids, there were no cell phones.  Regular pay phones only worked in country.

6.  Now it was time to find a room for the night.  No vacancy was universal.  We spiraled around the train station going further and further and eventually gave up and decided to stay in the train station.  But first, now that we were flush with enough francs that we could call Mona, have a coffee and pastry that evening and the next morning.  So after the race starting on the Champs-Élysées we ended it at a cafe across the street from the train station.

7.  We showed up to find the gates locked.  Why?  They close at midnight.  We were late again and now had nowhere to go.  We walked around looking for something, anything we could do.  Even the phone booths had someone in them.  Deb was considering linking up with some other people our age, but I thought they looked pretty rough.

8.  It starts to rain.

We went back to the guy who changed our pounds and practically begged him to let us sit in his waiting room.  He did so long as we left by 6am.  Deb slept, I read.

At 6 we got into the train station.  At 7 we called Mona.  At 8 we were on the train to Zurich.  Bing, bang, boom.  We've milked that story for 30 some years.  The telling never gets old.

European Vacation, part 1

Deb found tickets from JFK to Brussels for some ridiculously cheap price.  Maybe $200 or $300 round trip.  Going to Europe was never on my list of got to do, but if Deb wanted me with, I was happy to accompany her.

The rub is we hadn't come clean with with our coworkers about our attachment.  But it happened that the department admin and my office mate were also going to Europe.  So Deb went, declaring for Switzerland and France.  I said I was going to London and Germany.  We slipped out the back, Jack.  Nobody had an inkling.  We were careful about relating different stories.  That's about how difficult life was in those days.

Since we were going to land in Brussels, my room mate Paul set us up with his buddy, "The Belgin".  He fetched us from the airport and brought us home.  There we had a nap and had dinner with his family.  I seem to remember separate rooms, due to his parents and our lack of wedding rings.

The next day we took in Brussels and in the evening we were passed to some friends of his and they took us to Bruges, a canal laced city older than dirt.  I think it was old when Columbus sailed.  We had the best dinner of our lives there.  Deb loved their pronunciation of my first name: Rhobean.  The food was a mixed grill of chicken, beef and pork with roasted vegetables all cooked in a fireplace in the main room of the restaurant.  The restaurant held but 5 or 6 tables.  Oh, it was good.  Forever after when we had some particularly good food, we'd compare it to Bruges.

That night was our last with a known destination for 5 days.  I think the Belgin got us on a train to Calais, a ferry to Dover and a train to London.  We lugged our luggage to a road with B&Bs on it and we simply walked down until we found one that said vacancy or to-let or something British.

No reservation.  Dodgy room.  English breakfast.  Nowhere we'd go back to now.  Nevertheless, we had a great time.  2 days later, at the station we were waiting for the train to the ferry and on to Paris, a half hour early.  PIMS is a liquor my grandmother had with our relatives in Toronto and I wanted to bring her a bottle from England.  Yes, Robbin, they sell it in the states and it is probably exactly the same.  Yes, Robbin, we had to carry a bottle through the rest of Europe and safely home.  I'm so much smarter now.

I asked someone where I could get a bottle and it was a short way down the street.  I left Deb with the bags at the end of the train track with the train yet to arrive and ran to the store.  It was further, but they had it.  Watching that I didn't take more than half the time till the train left, I waited behind some 5 year old counting his change.  Everybody thought it was so cute and I was ready to leave the bottle and run back, it was getting close.  You know the end of this story, right?  I arrived to see the last car leaving the station.   A Jamaican train conductor approached us telling us he could easily have held the train a minute.  

Deb's peeved with me, and herself for not letting her NY show.  But we simply had a bar meal and were back a couple of hours later.  No big deal, English pub meals are pretty good and the sun didn't go down until 10 or 10:30, so even late, Paris was just fine.  We found a room and saw Paris in a day. Mona Lisa is like a postage stamp compared to what I had assumed.

Next post will be how we got out of our next bit of trouble.

Robbin's status

Why have I not been writing?  Some days I've got the blues and some days I feel fine.

Lately I've been busy.

2 weeks ago I drove to Annapolis bought a Bridgeport mill and stayed overnight at Deb's friend Susan's apartment.  We had a very pleasant evening.

Last Thursday I had dinner with Deb's work pals.  That was good.  Earlier I had lunch with Joe Del Duca and that was good.

Last Saturday I drove to Boston to stay with my college pals.  On Tuesday I stopped by Great Barrington for a few minutes to check in with Cathy Clark.  Both good.

On Wednesday I had dinner with the New Milford Men's club.  Accidentally I arrived an hour late and missed the majority of the socializing but did meet them and had a nice dinner.

Last night Pat and MaryBeth invited me to dinner, but Pat is suffering from childhood bugs.  They take care of their grand kids.  I didn't want to catch even one bug so I took a rain check.

On eves of each of these activities, I had serious reservations about even going.  Same in the morning.  But... each time I was fine.  Better than fine, I had a good time.  Even the fellow who sold me the mill is a good guy and went over and beyond to help me get it loaded.  It weighs a ton, literally.

I hope this stinking thinking abates.  Its hard.

Tomorrow I'm emptying the trailer (with help) and putting the mill together.  It and my truck have been parked by the  workshop for going on 2 weeks.  

Opposites Attract

Note Before:
The article part is what I wrote last week.  I couldn't get up the oomph to edit.  I did tonight.

It's 2 weeks today that Deb passed away.  The first week and open house are a blur.  The following week, I did this and that, but nothing of consequence.  Today I turned over a 80 pound lathe chuck in a bath of degreaser and counted it as something accomplished.  Getting started at something is the hurdle.  Once I get going, I get it done or at least move it a step in the right direction.  

I'm feeling a hole or vacuum and, simultaneously a peaceful relief.  I haven't sorted out the basis of either.  This widowing stuff is adult stuff, let me tell you.  Wouldn't have handled it well when I was 20.  So far the only thing that's a pain is feeding myself.  I'll solve it.  I'm grazing on the left overs from last Saturday.  

On to the proof that we're opposites, at least in Dr M and Dr B's test.

There's a personality test people in teams sometimes take called Myers Brigs.  It in broad strokes declares how you interact with the world and gives better understanding among teams for how your colleagues act and think in these 4 binary ways.

Here's a clip I took from the MB foundation:

• Favorite world: Do you prefer to focus on the outer world or on your own inner world? This is called Extraversion (E) or Introversion (I).
• Information: Do you prefer to focus on the basic information you take in or do you prefer to interpret and add meaning? This is called Sensing (S) or Intuition (N).
• Decisions: When making decisions, do you prefer to first look at logic and consistency or first look at the people and special circumstances? This is called Thinking (T) or Feeling (F).
• Structure: In dealing with the outside world, do you prefer to get things decided or do you prefer to stay open to new information and options? This is called Judging (J) or Perceiving (P).

My letters were INTP.  I remember Einstein was an INTP so I am in good company.

Deb's letters were ESFJ.  I can't remember who they cited as part of her club.

Do you see any intersection?  Nope.  

Perhaps we were so successful as a couple and in life because we had, between us, every aspect the Dr Myers and Dr Brigs thought were important personality factors at least how he interpreted them.  This isn't an all or nothing scale, you could be slightly one or the other, but I was strongly in the INTP class and she was strongly in the ESFJ class.  I wonder of the good doctors could have predicted such great success from the two of us when our letters were clearly opposites?  Maybe the test is another kind of BS we bought into as good corporate citizens.

But... I must say that for my team at Roche, it was enlightening and we could interact with each other with new understanding.  Probably the same with Deb's team, although I don't remember their outcomes.  

Conclusion?  Opposites attract. It's gotta be.