The last ride south of the Loire

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Roadkill is what cars do. The ultimate killing machine
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Discovering the old Chateau de Res. Whatever is left of it.
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THere used to be a waterway under the chateau. A very smart design, there is a lake nearby. It was easy to connect it to the chateau with a small canal.
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I’ve always used the Marathon tires. Even though they are not as fast as the sleek Kojaks, the Marathons are super strong and super reliable.
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One of the last sunny evenings at Journet
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The View Point at Montmorillon
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‘Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.’

1200-oiling-bromptonThe Brompton must be oiled for the winter. Until the next year it’s going to be stored folded and greased.

The least exciting part of travel

It takes the whole day to travel from LT to Montmorillon (bike), from Montmorillon to Poitiers (TER), from Poitiers to Gare Montparnasse (TGV), from Montparnasse to Gare du Nord (Metro), from Gare du Nord to Charles de Gaulle (RER), from Charles de Gaulle to Hyatt (hotel shuttle). When you step into your room your are already exhausted
The Greta Garbo arrives from LA three hours later than expected. So we have to wait for almost 5 hours until they prepare her for the return flight to Los Angeles
Meanwhile, I notice something new: a praying room for believers, presumably moslem. As it’s next to the “Toilets” I see an Arab man washing his feet in the sink (same sink where you wash your face and hands)
Finally, we are on the way to LA

The transformation of travel into music and images

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After several years of Jeanne d’Arc research and visiting virtually every place in France related to her. It still feels like I am barely touching the subject.
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Pam’s brushes and my Leica. The tools of the trade that have been around the world
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Some of the guitars, the ultimate dream machines (a Dano Electric, the Hoffner base – hello Paul McCartney!) two trumpets in their cases and a massive Sitar in the corner. Also in a case.
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My Fender Telecaster (France), the best guitar ever
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The Sketchbooks of Normandie
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Hong Kong, winter 2017. Pam writes down some of my “sayings”
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The Rolleiflex for some studio work
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Pam’s at work
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You just have to keep going, no matter what
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Normandy 2017

Los Angeles – Paris

For a change, I have abandoned the big US air carriers (Delta, United and American) for Norwegian. It seems a better choice if you fly like me: no bags, late in the evening,  selective touch-screen menu ordering, and 30% cheaper.

The other thing is that Norwegian flies the modern Boeing 878 aircraft that keep the air pressure close to the sea level.  Which means no dry nose / headache, less jet lag.

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The American tails at Los Angeles. Thanks, but no thanks.

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Modern wings are curvy!

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This is my Norwegian Boeing 787-8. Edvard Munch on the tail. (SCREAM)

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The head section looks like a red condom. But it works!

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While most of the LAX airport looks like a ghetto, the international section, or the Tom Bradley Terminal, is modern and efficient.

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Finally, in Paris. A short stay at the Hyatt before submerging myself into la France profonde.

In search of Jeanne d’Arc

A lot of my cycling activities are centered around the childhood of Jeanne d’Arc. The Meuse valley.  This area of France is a topographical puzzle. The borders intertwine in strange ways, you are never sure where you are – it is Meuse of Vosges?

The most eastern province in the medieval France, where the locals were ruled by a complex vassal system where your lord was a servant of a greater Lord who in his turn would be in a relationship with another power.

Both the church and civilian branches played their roles. And the areas of their authority did not match.  For example, Jeanne had to report to Toul, where the ecclesiastical court was held, as a defendant in the case that was brought against her by a man from Neufchateau, which was technically in a different “county”.

The man sued her for a broken marriage promise. In Toul, Jeanne argued her case before the judges and the charge was dismissed.

The Holy Roman Empire was just to the east (and it’s borders were always changing). France was to the west. Was Jeanne even French?

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