(The déjà vu of) Driving To Lyon Through A Stunning Landscape

Cousins' Trip, Travel

But first, an aside, France is modern. Even the electric outlets look modern, and the cars even more so. End aside.

Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime. Mark Twain

Almost a week ago, we drove from Die to Lyon. We drove the long way, up a valley into the mountains, over a pass – well, through a tunnel about 500 feet below the actual pass – down the valley to the north, and across some rolling foothills, and then across the mostly flatlands into the industrial part of Lyon.

As we headed up, the road was steep with lots of switchbacks, but after the tunnel, the descent was more gradual, somewhat like going over the Sierras from east to west, but not as extreme. We passed through several small, picturesque villages, and I started thinking about a conversation I had at our re-u with one of the hosts.

I had said that the village we had visited was beautiful, and she responded that every place in France was beautiful. I retorted that every place is beautiful, meaning that every natural place I have been that hasn’t been desecrated by the overlay of civilization is beautiful. I remember being in a drizzling rain that smelled of cow shit in Amarillo, Texas – coincidencly on the way to another family re-u – and thinking the Texas plains are the uglyest place I’ve ever been. The next day, we went for a walk in a private park – yes, Texas has private parks – that celebrated the Texas plains, and remarked to Michele on the stunning beauty.

But our host was right, in France, at least in this part of the country, the overlay of civilization is softer and more integrated into the landscape.

As we got to the base of the mountains, I had an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. It felt like driving out of the Sierra Nevada mountains on Highway 120. We would drop down the Old Priest grade and the air would warm, then into the valley made by the Tuolumne River before it was filled by a lake made by a worthless dam, then the land would flatten, and then, just west of Escalon, in the heat, we would drive on a narrow section of road through the almond groves. It didn’t look the same, but it did feel the same (except for the hayfields).

Around Die At The Re-U

Photography, Travel

There are both Europeans and Americans at the re-u, and all the Americans have been to Europe more times than I’ve been to – hell, I don’t know – LA, and all of them speak at least two languages. I feel like a country bumpkin who wandered into a gathering of overachieving travelers.

I am not a Europhile – although I am a European car fan – I love California, especially the part of California where we live, but it is hard to shake the feeling, especially with this group, that Europe is more civilized and just plain more Civil than we Americans. The comparison between Greece during its Golden Age and Rome, which ruled the Mediterranean with sheer power, keeps coming to mind.

It is hot here – https://www.nytimes.com/2025/06/29/world/europe/europe-heat-wave-record-temperatures.html – with temperatures reaching close to 100F by mid-day, and it sucks the energy – energy I already have in short supply – out of me. Last Friday, we drove up a long, rough, gravel road to a view spot overlooking Die (photo in previous post). I didn’t take many photos, except for the spring flowers.

Saturday, we went to a small art show in a charming nearby village.

To be continued…

We Are At The Cousins’ ReU In Die, France, European Union

Travel

The thing that staggers you when you first come to France is the fact that all the French speak French—even the children. ~ Olivia de Havilland

After several false starts, we are now very much alive in Die. We flew to Barcelona, had an excellent dinner, slept, took the TGV high-speed train to Valence, France, rented a car, and drove to dinner at what I can only describe as an adult Party House. This is a shockingly beautiful part of the world that, two days ago, I only knew as a place on a map. Still, it is hot and humid and I am still recovering from both my bladder operation two weeks ago and my trans-Atlantic flight two days ago so I am whooped.

We Are Going to Michele’s Cousin’s Reunion

Medical

To be more accurate, though, we are flying into Barcelona and then driving to the reunion in Die, France, with a short layover in Carcassonne, France. After the reunion, we are driving to Paris, with a layover in Lyon. Then we fly to Ireland, where we spend several days at Michele’s family retreat in Baltimore, Ireland.

No one said it would be easy, but somehow, that’s what I heard. A refrigerator magnet that Michele has on our refrigerator, not for my latest surgery, but certainly applicable.

In the meantime, I am recovering from my bladder surgery. Not recovering very gracefully, I should add, now that I found out that I have to do the surgery all over again. The doctor thinks that he got all the cancer, but will have to return to inside my poor bladder to dig through the ruins to be sure he got everything.

Meanwhile, Israel Pearl Harbored Iran, and Russia continues with its efforts to eliminate Ukraine. It makes worrying about an uncomfortable surgical procedure seem pretty.

Op Recap

Medical

I’m a nurse. What’s your superpower? – Unknown

Nursing is one of the fine arts: I had almost said ‘the finest of fine arts. – Florence Nightingale

I’m back from my procedure at Sequoia Hospital, uncomfortable but otherwise fine. The doctor said everything went well. The cancer tumor was small, and he thinks he got it all. Hopefully, we will get word by Friday that I am cancer-free.

Whoopsie Daisy!

Last night, my – I’m not sure what to call it, I’ll say drainline* – drainline clogged up with blood clots, and we ended up in the Sequoia emergency room at about two…it was not fun. But we got back home a little after three, slept to about noon today, it is a beautiful, clear day, and I feel much better (despite the Trump Administration running amok in LA). Poor Michele is taking the brunt of this.

The visit to ER was shocking for two reasons. One, it took much less time and hassle than we expected, and two, it is – apparently – much more common than I would have thought. The nurse said that he was just going to replace the drainline because it was much easier and faster than trying to muck around and replacing catheters was the favorite part of his job.

*Michele says that it is a catheter (I knew that). Michele, who is much less sanguine than me, also says: “When we left the hospital the catheter tube had big blood clots in it and the nurse said that it was ok, ‘tap the tube, and they come loose’. Well, that worked for awhile. Before  I started getting ready for bed, while Steve wanted to stay up a bit longer, I suggested I help him empty the catheter bag, and started  thinking it was weird it wasn’t filling up. Got him to drink more water. That eventually caused him to pee more, but, oops, it wasn’t flowing down the tube, it was squirting out of a port on the tube. After I crimped that off then he started peeing around the tube.  I did what I could to tape a bunch of gauze on him to catch the leakage and by the time did all that and cleaned up the mess and covered the seat of our new car with towels and plastic, we headed to the ER  got to there at around 1:30. Steve had me call ahead so they were prepared and it was lightening fast, but still, it was 3 am by the time we got back home. Then I couldn’t really fall asleep until about 6 because, by then, the catheter was filling up quickly and I was worried (unnecessarily it turns out) it would overflow. Now I need to run to the pharmacy to pick up the pain pills they should have prescribed in the first place.”