Hard to believe...

This time last year, I was sitting in a rather cramped plane, beyond grateful that I'd managed to make it onto the plane with all of my doodads, and starting to get really excited that the adventure I'd spent the better part of the year planning had actually begun.

Now, as I look over my posting lists, at all the half-written posts and unposted photos, I realize I really need to get a bit of a move-on with the write-ups. In my ever-shifting deadline target, I really want to get the photos up before the anniversary of the day I left. Some of them are done already: Amsterdam, my first week in Paris, Chartres, Mont St-Michel, Venice, and part of Provence. I'm finding my Paris museum week a bit... daunting. It's a lot of photos to label and then comment on. And marks are due next week!

I also have a quite few photos I've taken in Toronto as part of my being a tourist in Toronto scheme. The nice thing about being a tourist in your own city is that you have rather a lot of time to go places and see things. Once again, however, a lot of the posts are half-written and the photos need to be labelled, sorted, and commented before I will upload them.

However, I'm really going to push to get the Europe photos done by the target deadline, as well as trying to stay on more or less top of the new photos. Maybe I will reward myself with some macarons when I get the Paris photos finished...

Then I can get started finishing all the blog posts. Oy.

Suddenly, that big pile of labs I have to mark seems rather inviting...

Lose Some...

Casualties of travel:

1. The big red friggin' heavy suitcase: Used to have one of those clips at the top that would let you attach another bag. That seemed to have not made the flight over to Amsterdam. My admittedly old plastic Canada luggage tag didn't survive the flight from Athens to London. Flying is not good for things sticking to your luggage!

2. The collapsible red bag: Got a small tear in the front pocket on the flight from Athens to London -- nothing serious; I think it can be patched. Got a much larger tear in the side mesh pocket that can't be repaired. And now, when I tried to collapse it, I couldn't get the zipper to catch.  Oops.

Well, this is not entirely what I expected...

So it turns out that I get motion sick.

I knew that already, of course. When I was little, we had a boat and sailed to the Thousand Islands every summer. I loved most of that journey, but the waves outside Kingston were huge and I recall spending much time violently wishing I were somewhere else while being dosed with copious amounts of Gravol.

It hasn't really come up lately. My nausea takes the form of hideous headaches. It's why I avoid roller coasters. It didn't occur to me that it would be a problem on this smoothly moving boat sorry, ship.  Guess what?

I didn't really notice it until Wednesday afternoon. It got much worse after I drank a glass of wine at the Commodore's welcome party and I wound up having to leave the dinner table halfway through the first formal night.  Fortunately, there are magic pills.  Magic, expensive pills.

I spent most of yesterday at the spa and napping. And eating. I'm feeling a bit better now, and really starting to enjoy myself. I'm finished working on the Venice photos, but the internet is so slow (and expensive!) that I'm not going to have enough time to upload them until I get on dry land. Stay tuned.

It was bound to happen at some point...

I'm spending my last evening in Oxford in bed, feeling miserable because I've come down with a nasty cold. My head feels like it's full of cotton and my nose is running away from home. There is a lot of tea, but not enough milk and sugar. I'm off to Bath tomorrow, providentially. Perhaps the waters there will fix me right up.

I'm working on my Venice pictures and they will be ready for prime time Real Soon Now. However, I learned to punt yesterday and I have some video to capture the event. Not that you can really tell I'm in a punt unless I tell you.

From Oxford 2010

Planes, trains, ferries, and buses...

I'm sitting in my extremely charming hotel room in Delphi (when you come to Delphi, and you must come at least once because the scenery is terrific and the ruins and museum are impressive, you must stay at the Hotel Varonos because it's fantastic -- my room is quite basic but really lovely, with welcome wine, a fridge, and a terrace looking out over the Pleisto River Gorge with a view of the Gulf of Corinth at Itea, and Yannis has been absolutely wonderful. Say γεία σου from me when you come. Because you're coming to Delphi.) keeping an eagle-eye on the ash cloud. I called Aged P yesterday to wish her a happy birthday and she nearly gave me a heart-attack when she told me Heathrow was closed.

That'll be $300 for the idiot tax...

Hi.  I'm Physicsgirl, and I'm an idiot. (Hi, Physicsgirl!)

Anyone who has talked to me about this trip will know that I've been relying on www.tripadvisor.com for many ideas.  Almost everyone on those forums said to avoid taking the train overnight from Paris to Venice.  The couchettes are very cramped (especially the 6-berth ones) with not enough space for luggage, and there are lots of thieves.  I read many stories of people who lost cameras and money.

I was determined, however.  I hate flying, I like trains, and it would be travel plus lodging all in one.  I'd managed to find a fairly inexpensive 2-person berth, which should alleviate the crowding problem somewhat, and I bought a special travel safe to keep my valuables safe, so I felt pretty good.

A mighty wind is blowing...

So, last night, we were concerned about the possibility of rain, and the guides had contingency plans all set out for us. I woke up this morning to a howling outside my windows. The rain is nothing; I could definitely bike in this rain.  The wind, on the other hand, is quite strong.  Blow us into the Rhône strong. As in, it's too dangerous to bike this morning.  Jenn (the other guide) said "Yes, the wind is disconcerting."  Understatement!  So we're being stuffed into a van and taken to Arles.

Hopefully the wind will have calmed down enough by this afternoon.

In which our intrepid heroine gets to see a bit more of Brittany than she expected...

It was supposed to be a very simple plan: train from Paris to Rennes at 2 pm, bus from Rennes to Mont St-Michel at 4:40 pm, check-in at 6ish, dinner at around 7, wander off to see the village at around 9 pm, take spectacular photos of the mount lit up at night around 10 - 11 or so, then back to the hotel to sleep the sleep of the just.

Something Robert Burns said springs to mind all of a sudden...

That's more like it: First morning and barely a hitch... sort of...

Note: Not every photo I took will be posted in the blog. To see them all, click on the link to my photo albums.

Tuesday morning: I got off the plane, and despite being one of the last off, managed to be one of the first at the customs gate.  I presented my passport, was asked how long I was staying, stamped, and passed through in a matter of minutes.  I was ready for a bit more of an inquisition. But no "how will you be returning?"  No "how do you intend to support yourself while you're here?"  Just a "you need a visa to stay more than 90 days.  Have a good visit."  To tell the truth, I was a little disappointed. I'd practiced and everything! Getting my luggage was also really quick; my bag was the fifth one off the plane.  Wow! If the rest went this smoothly, I'd be walking around Amsterdam in about an hour...

My next bit of fun was finding the ticket machines to catch the train from Schiphol airport to Amsterdam Centraal.  I knew, from reading

Oh, that was very nearly not a good start...

I'm here! Hello, Amsterdam. Thank you for not raining yet.

So, Aged P drove me to the airport yesterday, and after we left I realized that I'd forgotten to do several important things, like empty the rest of the tea from the pot and toss the veggies and milk that won't keep from the fridge -- oh, yay, something to look forward to when I get home! However, I couldn't worry too much about it because I WAS ON MY WAY!

Having checked in online, I got through the dropping off the bag process very quickly, although my suitcase seemed to have gained a kilo on the way to the airport. The very nice lady behind the counter said "Well, we can't