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TUNIS-FRANCE TRIP 1984

 

TUESDAY, 7/17/84: Leave apartment at 5:25, onto A train at 5:30, into Jay Street at 5:35, but (having waited for LAST train-to-plane) NEXT train-to-plane at 5:55 PASSES BY FULL! I sit at 6 and start THIS, hot and disgusted ALREADY. Another comes at 6:04, seats and all, and stall and stall and onto bus at 6:45. Forgot SUN hat, and WHERE is razor blade? To check-in at 7PM! Get seat 16B (next to next-to-window) and in to crowded lounge to pay 50 cents for Mom's number (216-253-7500) and talk till boarding starts at 7:35. Could we be on schedule? Sweaty palms now, and cramp in thumb last night, ripply calves the night before, and FOOT cramps on subway. Soon I won't be ABLE to travel. On at 7:55 and back out at 8:10. Off at 8:37, LIGHT for an hour. Lasagna dinner and CAN'T sleep. Starless! Light at 4:45 and land at 8:58 after [Rue le Regrattier à tati l'Ile de Notre-Dame, apelées aujourdhui l'Ile Saint Louis] cloudy descent and clear farmlands. Nervous over, BUT NOT AS MUCH AS WAY BACK!

WEDNESDAY, 7/18/84: Meet Paul VERY easily at 10, and he escorts BRIAN to road to Marseilles and French Foreign Legion! Bus to train to metro to JJ's at 10:45 and unpack and out at 11:40 to bank to change $300 for me and subway to Cluny, looking around outside and finding at 12:30 that museum is closed 12:45-2. Across bridge to Sainte Chapelle nice and photos, then to Notre Dame, and we SEARCH for place to eat, ending at brasserie for croque Monsieur a cheval (undercooked with eggs on top) for 18F and 1/4 of cold and GOOD Cote de Rhone wine, and out at 2 for Berthillon sherbet and the "circus" of tourists in Notre Dame and the treasury and parvis till 4, until EXHAUSTED. WALK back via the Pantheon and St. Etienne du Mond and Rue Mouffetard and Avenue de Pot au Feu and stop for two beers and home at 5:45 to REST to 8PM. JJ in. Phone 5-6 full or closed restaurants until Chez Toutoune, chat, and out at 9:25 to restaurant for 91F for adequate meal. Back at 1AM, EXHAUSTED.

THURSDAY, 7/19/84: Wake at 9:30, breakfast, shower, chat, and out at 11. To car at 12:20, onto Versailles LINE at 1:05. Sweet Europcar girl struggled through English for Paul. COMPLEX fast drive through Bois de Boulogne to Palace. Free parking but 2F for pictures. In at 1:35 for 13F. Dog barking in line ahead of us, doesn't get in. GRAND rooms with FEW furnishings and HUGE crowds of guided tours till 2:25. Then onto long line for King's Apartments and Opera. Paul wants the Trianons and I rather insist we should stay, moving faster by 2:45. At 3:35 we hear "Sorry, we don't know where the English-speaking guide IS." On SIGN it says 14F, on box office it says 20F---it turns out to be 11F at 3:45. Tour SUMPTUOUS rooms till 5, then drive to Grand Trianon (totally closed), past Petit, to Hameau, and wander pleasant (though over-sweet) lake and Queen's cottages and fish and tower and Love Arbor, then drive back to look into Theater and wander gardens, then to car to drive roads in shape of a cross around canals, cute joggers and views over Versailles, then at 6:45 drive back to city by 7:45 and have a drink and change for JJ's arrival at 8:15 and go to Taillevent. Somber surroundings but engaging English-speaking waiter and interesting menu, hit of which is JJ's Bordeaux GRAVE Pope Clement 1980 for $20. My appetizer of warm, sliced sweetbreads and mushrooms dynamite, Paul's jellied Homard soup rather tart and medicinal, and JJ's eel terrine tasty but over-bland veggies. My pigeonneau, not deboned and finger-eaten, is tough and tasty, good (not spectacular) brown sauce, and "pretty" vegetables: carrot slice over zucchini slice and a puff (oh, starting cheese-puffs good) of "slaw" OK. JJ's kidneys FABULOUSLY clean and tender, and Paul's steak is all tender and GREEN with cresson (watercress) sauce. JJ's ice cream (vanilla) and nuts and honey nice, our "farandole des desserts" starts out as a JOKE with CANNED slices of peach, pear, orange, and grapefruit under a nice saboyan sauce dotted with fresh strawberry and raspberry, but marquisette of mousse in great chocolate SLICE in kiwi (!) sauce makes up for it, as does FABULOUS pear, heady mango, tart cassis (French: Groseille noir, English: CURRANTS) and raspberry (told by a SEED). Not GREATEST but at 1550F not bad. Home at 11:30 to search for JJ's keys, and Paul and I chat till 1:05 and sleep immediately.

FRIDAY, 7/20/84: I wake at 6:30 and up at 7:30 to repack and JJ comes up at 7:50, having found keys in shoulder bag, and I shower, he leaves at 8:45, I read and Paul's up at 9:45. Breakfast till 10:45, out at 10:55 and Paul cashes $200 and me $400 at 8.75, for 3446.50F---going FAST. Out at 11:10 to a PERFECT day! Leave Paris 11:20, into Chartres at 12:40, worried about nonfunctioning (?) gas gauge. See Cathedral, examine screen and windows, look at glass exhibit, watch crotches, chat, go to shop, buy, then to Treasury at 2:30, then out at 3 to wander town en route to St. Aignan, St. Peter the Eube, and ask TWO people how to RETURN to subterranean carpark by 16:32, four hours for 10 francs. Through town to N1 to Vendome, where we stop to cross flower-decked bridge to town and information station who, at 6:30, make reservations in Tours at Hotel Central for 9PM. Wander streets, St. Trinité, and market to 7, then active N10 to Tours at 8 (I'm UPSIDE DOWN on map!!) to hotel at 8:15, kir (3 for him and 2 for me) to 9:30, to Cathedral, square, and river, and American AEF memorial. Then to Old Town and no FOOD at 11, so to Restaurant du Musée at 11:30 for choucroute and two half-liter beers for 100F and back laughing to hotel at 12:30 to piss in sink and laugh about EAU and WC on toilet in 122 Front, and I write this to 12:40 and sleep.

SATURDAY, 7/21/84: DREAMS. Wake at 7 with memory of driving with someone like Sheila Andron in a car driven by, say, Neil Sendar and Kristen. I have some hidden agenda to meet someone at 11:30 somewhere else and THEY think WE have plans. I antagonize Neil, but then SHEILA turns against me as manipulative and awful to deal with. I have a great conviction of the truth of her accusations. Then at 8:30 I wake from a LONG dream that started with my meeting Beverly Sills, and she says that as I start off, I can only have a small role in a vanity production, but better things will come after I take a voice-range test, and everyone laughs at how actors screech and screw up their faces to get the highest and lowest possible ranges of their throats. THEN I'm in an ugly Liquid Sky-type movie with beautiful Grace Jones-type people doing ugly things like committing suicide, but at the END the pretty-boy hero "points" to a football hunk who starts a funky, jerky dance with shoulders contorting in break dancing, and there are perfectly edited fast sequences of, say, a board becoming bifurcated, drawn legs becoming in stages WOODEN legs and REAL legs topped by a "cabinet" that becomes a body that turns into a dancer that points to a cat that turns into a horse that---etc., and I remember the REVIEWERS said the MOVIE was awful but the concluding DANCE sequence was beautiful and marvelously inventive. Wake at 8:30 (when Paul said he could be waked by) and write to 8:50. Continental rolls and butter and prune jam with good 2-cup chocolate (his coffee was cold) till 9:15, and leave for 212F (they forgot two drinks @ 20F last night) at 9:30 and get to Europcar at 9:45 and out at 10:25 having traded an Opel for a Peugeot. Drive down to Azay-le-Rideau by 11:35 and find it closes 12-2. Walk back to La Chapelle de Chielle, but there's nothing there but the ramparts along with the Indre that surrounds Azay. Look at wedding in chapel and eat in Grande Monarche. Paul's 70F includes kidneys and cheese, my 195F gets braised eel in cream of scallions, GREAT; sweetbreads and raspberries, sort of not mixing, and GREAT pistachio ice cream, with 40F for 1/2 bottle Chosy 1981 Chinon wine, OK. Slow service ends at 2:05. Castle 13F only with French tour at 2:40-3:40. Beds and chests and tables and tapestries and copies of painting in "a few large rooms in a small castle." LOTS of people, but I get most of it. Out at 3:40 and to Usse at 4:15 to tour chapel, saddlery, coachery, and stables, then up to courtyard (1/2 still private) to wait for 200 people to gather for 22F tour! Starts at 4:40. Weddings, REAL paintings, king's room, LOTS of STUFF, till 5:40. 6.5F Pschitt Limone. Tired!! Drive Loire-dyke road to Langeais, busy, and Hosten (full) refers us to Chateau, room M. We shower, sit, and go to Langeais at 8. Park at Church, climb hill, then drive to Fete Champetre, loud and gamey (ring ducks, fire at 5 targets, bottle and coin toss), wine and beer, absent gateaux, swings, fish, ring bottle, lottery. LOUD music piped in! Leave for "forestiere" and "complet" crepes, large and good, and cider for 90F. Back down to sit on bank till 10:45, one rocket, then fireworks 11-11:15, and Paul DEMANDS to leave, so we're back and in bed at 11:45.

SUNDAY, 7/22/84: Wake 5AM, then to sleep to LOTS of sex-dreams of type: beautiful guy says, "I remember you from (so and so and so) a place, and I want you to suck me off!" One is Lloyd Moore-like with a hard rod down one pant-leg, another is just a kid with a great enthusiasm for kissing, another bares a huge, gnarled cock that OTHERS have obviously chewed on. I feel excited but wake limp. Then there's a strange interlude of a city-scene with Blacks dressed in long white gowns IN FRONT only, bare black asses folding and getting up, and I see they're being chased from lighted city by cops AT NIGHT, so TOWARD city they fade in WHITE and looked at against black night they fade in BLACK. They're smuggling dope and running from the cops. THEN the odd sequence: I'm at the top of a VERY high (about 400 feet), steep hill that I have to get down. I'm afraid, but I can see lots of logs, trees, papers, etc., that can SLOW me DOWN, and the bottom DOES slope more, so I can COAST to a stop even if I'm going fast, and there's no overhang where I'd actually FALL, so I start sliding down, hitting first bundled cardboard that slows me, but tumbles out of the way faster than I descend, then some gravel I can dig my heels into, then a tree trunk end that I push down, almost STEERING by shifting my weight, and I'm 1/3 down and going not very fast and it's ALREADY less steep and I'm gaining CONFIDENCE, when I'm transported to a strange garden-party: a fanatic group of three or four are "conjuring" a Dea to descend from the sky, and there are cloud WISPS that intersect to fool some into thinking it's a shape, and then I see five STARS that I think are part of a dipper, but they dimly generate a LINE between them and the formation begins to BEND and MOVE, developing into a GULL-SHAPE that FLAPS across the sky, except when it gets CLOSER, in glowing white outlines, it looks rather like an EAGLE, except someone turns in terror and says, "It's a BAT." It flies lower and closer and a feeling of AWE overcomes me when suddenly (I have an IMPRESSION of David Hoch) I'm LIFTED UP from behind, like someone folding his arms around my waist and hugging me to his huge body so that I'm in a SITTING position, and PROPELS me forward with SUCH SPEED that I feel the fronts of my calves and knees and chest and arms TINGLING with speed and terror, and it's all I can do to FORCE from my petrified throat the words "WHO...IS...CARRYING ...ME...SO........FAST?" The scene becomes punctuated by two or three egg-sized, blind-white spots that flash out dotted rays of light, BEHIND which are orange-red dots that I can ALMOST judge for the words "see" many times overlapping, and my BRAIN tingles with anticipation---"Can I...will I be able to see at LAST???" and I FORCE my concentration....if this is the START of the "final white light," do I have to CHOOSE now (I feel it IS choice) to FOLLOW the light (rather, go TOWARD, ACCEPT, and BECOME ABSORBED by the light), or turn AWAY from the light and not YET die (or possibly, RETURN to the world to live AGAIN---or just simply CONTINUE to live THIS life). I awake with a DISTINCT tingle remaining on my calf-fronts and feet, still INTENSELY in the FEELING of the dream, which slowly fades to the light of a 7:35 cool dawn in France. Up at 7:55 and Paul's sick (I think he threw up last night, the SMELL was bad and he was scrubbing the RUG). I shit and write this till 8:30. Repack a bit (get out the old green Loire book at LAST), new film, toilet paper for my slight runny nose, and down at 8:45 for quiet breakfast room of 7 tables and chocolate again. Out at 9:20, 130F bill, to Langeais at 9:40. GREAT beds, floor tiles RICH in color, ORIGINAL wall paintings, LOTS of tapestries and chests and IRON. Out of BEST castle YET at 10:30. Up hill for Paul's photo, double back because Sunday market blocks road, and finally leave town about 11:10, over bridge and quiet roads to Villandry at 11:35, to get French tour for 15F at 11:45. Out at 12:10 to Gardens, lovely. Out 12:45, noting that for the five years 1979-1983 he PAID 4.7 million francs and GOT 1.4 million francs! Out at 1:15, reading, Paul ill, to Chenonceaux. Hit a "nowhere" D86 and get LOST! Lost, lost, lost. To Chenonceaux at 3PM! Poulet Basquaise and Chenonceaux wine and melon for 56F, wax museum for 4F and john for 1F by 3:55. Tourists in Chenonceaux: "Catherine de Medici turning out her husband's sh-sh-sh." "Whiskers?" "MISTRESS!" LOTS of flowers inside, CROWDS of people, LOTS of paintings and tapestries, but more a TRY than a treasure. JUST catch train to gate at 5:05PM, I have to RUN onto it. Get English guides, meet Paul and decide on Loches, which pleasant drive on UNmapped highway past fields of MARIJUANA leads us to by 6PM. Room for 97F in FIRST hotel (France) and out at 6:20. To medieval city through Picior Gate and Porte Royale and St. Ours (Chamoidon is a bland muenster, Rouy NICE-tasting, creamy and good, and Chambol aux Noys good and pasty; Vieux Panay is not-so-good Brie, and brugnons are delicious plummier nectarines). Eat 7:15-9:15, my 72F dinner huge: foie de volaille avec morilles, brochette de lotte ala provencale (lots of BUTTER), and canette (VERY dark meat) in raspberry vinegar, and three cheeses above, PLUS nice Sauvignon de Tourraine for 32F. Paul feeling better AND I give intro and do handwork on him before leaving at 10:45 for NICE walk through chateau/buildings/donjon-lit Loches, kids with flashlights taking tours from bus, me alone on ramparts and surprising lovers on grass. Back to bed at 12, raised by sirens from tower at 12:07, then to sleep.

MONDAY, 7/23/84: Wake at 7:30, up at 7:45. Breakfast IN ROOM to 8:30, and leave at 8:55, paying 303.5F. Repack car, revisit church, and get to chateau at 9:15. Large rooms to 9:45, to donjon for slides and tour of prison, and back to car at 11:15. Out to Montresen chapel and tomb of Imbert, and on at 11:55 to Nouans-les-Fontaines to 12:05. NICE Fouquet. Into Blois at 1:30. Leave 2:50, eat pizza in town 3-3:30, off to Chambord at 3:45, in at 4:15 (Paul staying out) and the place is IMMENSE. CLEAN, too, with tourists EVERYWHERE, but the place is SO huge it never really seems CROWDED. First few rooms DAZZLING with fresh silks on the walls, spanking-new chandeliers, and new furniture and shiny, bad paintings. Chests and tapestries and clocks and chairs galore. But OTHER rooms empty and bare, including a VERY uninspired chapel. Stairs great and QUIETLY efficient, loads of side exhibits of paintings and drawings and hunting weapons and trophies and models, and a 15-minute presentation in French and English that's quite good, AND a roof that's lovely fun to walk around, from which to photograph ABSOLUTELY empty spaces of "formal" lawn and canals. Down at 6:15 EXHAUSTED! Taste and buy wine for 16F, then try country for places to stay but get to Orleans at 7:30 and park in hotel-less place and back to Marguerite for loud room at 7:45 for 137F on street. We decide to go out to eat and he does what has become so TYPICAL of him: "Oh, I guess I'll take a shower"; JUST as he did when we were circling Blois for entry and he says, "Oh, let's look at the shops and see some CIVILIZATION before going to the castle." He SO comes off the WALL sometimes to do something QUITE contrary to what I've just SAID! Undoubtedly unconscious, and at least he LEAVES at noon the day after tomorrow. We leave at 8:35. In to Jean D'Arc square and STUMBLE into L'Assiette---all hors d'oeuvres, all wine, dessert, and main dish for a fixed price: 92F for beef brochette, 94F for lamb brochette. GOOD time with singers and cute pigtailed waiter. Out at 10:45 and walk around past Bellefior (gay restaurant) and back to hotel at 11:15 and stagger to loud bed at 11:45.

TUESDAY, 7/24/84: Wake through night to thunder and traffic noises, finally at 7:25 to lie, wearily contemplating writing dreams and looking forward to a rainy day and feeling TIRED. Dreams: 1) I'm lying at the head of Bruce Lieber's sickbed, and he's dying of AIDS, and he says sobbing that he's lonely and scared, and I caress him and he turns into Dennis, who insists I kiss him, and his blubbery fat lips enclose mine and I fear contagion and back away as soon as I can, worried I'll get it from him. 2) I'm sitting in a cramped theater-type seat in a class, and argue with the black woman next to me to remove her coats from under MY seat, and she insists that's not my business and they're not bothering me, but I shout that they ARE and haul them out and throw them at her and put my OWN under. Then I'm on the aisle sorting MY things out and put my violin (!) under my seat, grubbing around in waste papers wondering what this METAL object like a microphone or plumber's snake is doing under it. Then the "class" includes a showing of "Bloopers of a famous quiz program" and in one scene at windows the camera zooms ABOVE the set to show a huge cockroach and the audience laughs, "This IS New York!" In ANOTHER scene a stout woman who's supposed to be slapped around suddenly refuses to react and quits on the spot. Ha ha. Finish this at 7:50, Paul about to send for breakfast. Then he says, "Let's go downstairs." I phone JJ, we see cathedral and I buy slides, and see Hotel de Ville, then out of town to read about Germigny-les-Pres and 8th-Century mosaic! While following AWFUL smoky trucks, Paul getting pissed driving. Guy GETS OUT reliquary, and I buy slides and postcards AGAIN because there's no light inside (storm cut lines last night) even if the lights had been lit. Leave Germigny at 11 and to St. Benoit till 11:50, DELIGHTFUL. Good lunch 1:30-2:05 at Le Bivouac and drive straight back, to Croulebarbe at 3:25. Take bags upstairs and drive THROUGH Paris (Paul panicked), to Europcar at 4:15. He buys paté and we elevator to top of Arc de Triomphe and WALK down colorful stairs, and subway home to drink and repack and talk exhaustedly till 8:10 and JJ returns, we talk of trip, then out to La Chaumiere des Gourmets for GREAT salmon de Paul Bocuse (me), riz de veau (JJ), and crab soup with creme fraiche (Paul); bouillabaisse en gelee (average, me), turbot (JJ, delicious), and pepper steak (Paul, poor), GREAT Laurent Perrier champagne for 240F (total bill about 600F, JJ pays) and to Tour Montparnasse for "Ciel de Paris" (gin, noyau, and grapefruit) 36F for ONE and 120F bill. Kid screams out of john with shitty pants down for climax at 11:45. Very wearily to bed.

WEDNESDAY, 7/25/84: Wake at 7:30 and up at 8:30 to JJ leaving and then Paul and I breakfast and out to buy work-clothes souvenirs for him and 1984 Michelin for me for 70F. He leaves at 10:10 and I go to Cluny 10:40-12:30, not enough time, LOTS of STUFF. Buy sandwich for 13F and then Guinness at Select for 19.10! Watch LOTS of people, some sexy, walk Seine past coming Musée d'Orsay, book/stamp stalls, art dealers, guarded Foreign Affairs office, to 3PM entry to Menil, GREAT for a PRIVATE COLLECTION, and buy guide for 150F and jot note: LIKE Viktor Brauner; GREAT Magritte and Ernst and Tanguy, at 4:45. Write this on steps to 5PM, exhausted again. Sit and look at people and decide to take bus 83 home, just get to stop at 5:10 and it comes in, but charges 8F to get home, JUST as much as NYC! Ride is essentially the way I'd come. Back at 5:40 to meet the maid, coming Friday then going on vacation. Jerk off waterily for the first time in AGES and then set up slides, shower, while listening to grim Zemlinsky Lyric Symphony and not-too-flashy Rossini Elizabetta (Queen of England) and get a call from his niece Dominique, who calls twice and will call him tomorrow. I sit and write this at 9:15, being disappointed with slides and starting to get hungry---dressing in my suit, washing shirts, listening to Beethoven Quartets: 15 I know, 14 rather dull until the second side. Laurent calls at 9:37 and JJ arrives a minute later, apologetic, and we dash off to Le Marronniere, where I have haricots verts and the SMALLEST crevettes and he has Cornettes des Soeurs Jurassienne, pasty herbed ravioli, and his liver, fried slowly for twenty minutes, or even in a bain marie, is very tender, and my sole aux morilles and cream is SUPERB, and Brouilly (Cave de Coucelles) great red. Rain doesn't come; my raspberries and creme fraiche are great. Home 12:30 and JJ's maid locked him out of his brother's apartment.

THURSDAY, 7/26/84: Wake at 5, fearing the building will fall! Then at 7 and 7:30, and JJ's up and I'm up at 8:15 for breakfast and call Linda 9:10-9:50, to dinner tomorrow. Out at 10:10 for Petit Palais, in at 10:50, first to Duteil Greek, and #318 "Peintre de l'Ange volant" shows a cock-less man with one-eyed flying PHALLI! Apocalypse of 1415-20 is oldest xylographed book. Colors and print and drawings in one? Out at 1:30. Try to eat at Laurent (300F for three courses, including wine) but not dressed. Across to Berkeley at 2PM for 32F Croque-Monsieur and 31F for 1/2 Muscadet, and watch people. Leave 2:15 for St. Denis, in at 3:15, LOTS of tombs, and tour, out at 5:45. Back to shower and Restaurant a la Gare for AWFUL food and bed at 12:05, TIRED!

FRIDAY, 7/27/84: Wake at 7:30 with JJ, and shit LOTS at 8; he leaves 8:45. I eat, try first place for "ten days to repair camera" and second for "it's OK, piece broke, happens in all Mamiyas." Stand 10:10-10:25 for change in bank talking to gal from SF and move to Societe General to get $300 cashed at rate of 8.72F/$ in five minutes. Subway to Bourdelle and get in 10:30-1 for 14 pictures and a FEW lovely bodies---why no reproductions of Adam? and WHY is his cock cut off? Subway and eat at Rendez-Vous Denfort-Rochereau for 23F: chef salad with LOTS of ham and cheese and white stuff (noodles?) and 50 cl BEER for 12F for 41F total lunch, ending at 2 to get to Catacombs line for 9F and buy ten slides for 25F and get down 130 steps, MOST changes 7/1859, some 1/6/1814 and 6/25/1814, some 7/18/1792 and 4/1786. Endless rows of bones, mostly FEMURS---if you count SKULLS you get fewer than 1/10 the number by dividing long bones by maximum of EIGHT per body, and a wall has maybe 100/sq. ft., a SINGLE wall of 6x10 feet for 60,000 per wall, and maybe 100 walls, or 6 million bones, or a million people. Staggered. Out at 3 at Halles and Deny Duchanel, and walk long way back to metro and subway twice to Jeu de Paume at 3:45 for a long line. Decide "I'm here, I'll wait," and write this and listen to awful stereo-augmented violin (as opposed to reasonably decent banjo-augmented gypsy violin in metro tunnel). In by 4:10 for 13F. Out at 5:10, best obviously Renoir, with some nice Monet, Manet not understandable, and Pissarro only good for a few and Sisley not much good at all. Take metro, VERY tired, and it's crowded and lots of young Blacks rush and PUSH in, squeezing and elbowing and jostling. I FEEL that my back pocket is being touched, but I jam my elbow into my BAG to protect my WALLET, but when they get OUT my zipper is OPEN halfway and my wallet is GONE! My stomach knots and my brain screams "NO!" with rage and frustration---and my proof-of-purchase of American Express traveler's checks is gone, too! Ride and change and get off at Gobelins to ask for police, get to Mairie, ask again of cute cop and around corner at 5:45 to get interview at 6:05 and get form that turns out to be CRUCIAL. Home to phone Visa, handled well, and then MasterCard is a JOKE ending in "send two Xeroxes!" Shower and JJ's home at 7:45 to hear my tale. Phoned Linda, we leave at 8 to search for flowers, all closed until Arnaud, and get HUGE bouquet for 80F. There at 8:45, CUTE baby, and have filling tomatoes farci, wine, cheese, and cherry pie, with Alain talking with JJ in French while Linda and I go at it in English. Leave at 1, EXHAUSTED!

SATURDAY, 7/28/84: Wake at 6:15 and can't get back to sleep. Phone Dennis at 6:45 and he calls back at 7:30 with Visa and MasterCard numbers and address and NO license number. Plan train to Bayeux at 11:30 and gaze at map, and breakfast and pack and JJ's up at 9:15. Europcar says Bordeaux will RECOGNIZE my police statement in lieu of license! Out at 10, looking warily at two young Blacks who seem to be gazing at me with interest. Not AGAIN! On train to Opera to change to St. Lazare. Onto ENORMOUSLY long line for change at 10:37, HOPING to get out by 11:15? It moves fast. VERY paranoid in metro: is he casing me or another pigeon? Sit on the right so my bag is against the CLOSED door. Don't get on if the entrance is jammed. Get my place in line held by obliging Americans and find I MUST get my ticket validated IN THE STATION, and it's good 7/28 to 8/27, so yesterday was really the FIRST day I COULD have used it. Feel nervous about travel, only because of the theft and "cashing my first check," and I'm sure I've NOT REALLY realized this is the start of 6 (Sat-Thu) days of free train-travel, hotel-search, and food-trial. A black girl (3 years old) howls and I suspect a SCAM, rather than that the mother has gone all across the station to get an orange drink. Thomas Cook gives a rate of 8.23F, losing at least $3, but at least I have MONEY. Out at 11:10, amid a black WOMAN buying dollars for 8.35F and a black MAN whispering something I don't care to hear as I vindictively push him aside to leave, then fearing he might chase AFTER me and holler. Train in to Cherbourg, but it says Bayeux and FIRST first-class cars are JAMMED, but LAST one is DELIGHTFULLY empty. Settle in and write this by 11:20. Train leaves 11:32, past cathedral of Evrieux, the Basilica of Lisieux, that I decide NOT to stop at, since Michelin won't even MENTION it, and nod a bit with fatigue until I get to Caen at 1:10 and find dining is OVER (and you had to sit in the ONE stuffy car to eat). Into Bayeux at 1:48 and find I'll probably stay overnight in Rennes, leaving Bayeux at 7:10PM. Into Museum at 2:10 and there's 1) a slide introduction of the Viking invasions, 2) a "narrated" tapestry, scenes enlarged and taken apart, that seems to go on for complicated AGES, winding around hallways, 3) a "sound" slide show that "moves" through the main segments while moving YOU through space. Then at 3:15 into CINEMA to 3:30, then to REAL thing with "phase-in/phase-out" acouteurs, and it's wonderfully FRESH after all that time, rather SURPRISINGLY fresh, though the FOUR sets of explanations are surely necessary! Out at 4:10 to cathedral, to Baron Someone's AWFUL museum, then wander back at 5:45 for a beer for a surly tavern-keeper's 7F. Back to bar for tomato soup, pork chop, FRESH (though overcooked) green beans, ice cream and 1/4 wine for 54F, and back to cruise a Paris-bound blond till my train comes at 7:11. Through St. Lo, Coutance, Avranches, and Pontorson, between which there are VERY distant, misty views of Mont St. Michel quite small on the far horizon, and lingering sunset 9-9:45PM. Scenery not terribly grand save for churches, tranquil canals, and a few gentle hills. Off at 10:02 at huge Rennes. Brest Hotel seems gone, so I'm over to Cheval D'Or, being shown an OCCUPIED room, with douche for 128F, a bit high. Onto balcony to overlook a flat south cityscape (hotel tallest, though there are skyscrapers elsewhere) and get to bed directly at 10:30, to toss a bit, sleep by 11 latest.

SUNDAY, 7/29/84: Dream: John A. and others and I have tried to eat at "the best restaurant" without reservations but the tables are full and we're turned out. It seems we try a second, having left word at the first for someone to meet us at the second, and then go to a THIRD. There, I ask if anyone thought to say that we'd GONE to the third after the second. After we've eaten, someone who's rather like an 8-year-old Gary Vallish has fallen asleep to my left and I just save him from slipping off his chair under the table. Then he turns into Malcolm S., who says, "I'd go to bed with POPE just to hear the things he TELLS me." I say, "Then why don't you go to bed with ME for the things I could tell you?" He looks at me with dark, steely, hateful eyes and says, "What a STUPID way to approach me!" And I protest, "What do YOU do if you see someone who attracts you?" With the start of a smile that leads me to think I MIGHT get somewhere, he says, "Well, I guess I'd talk to him, no matter WHAT I'd have to say!" Up at 7:30 and douche (shower) doesn't work! Bathe till 8:10 and breakfast till 8:35. Out to lovely Madeleine d'Lafayette, old streets, to gaudy dark St. Saveur, then find Cathedral (hours 8:30-12) closed at 9:10! Wander Vieux Rennes and back at 9:30 to find painted ceilings and retables of church good enough. More old city to Museums at 10, and for 3.5F they're EXCELLENT: well-lit, nicely laid out, even to English/French audiovisual slide presentations! Lovely DISPLAYS better than stuff displayed! Breton has lots of stuff I can't see, and de la Tour very PLAIN in Beaux Arts, but they're nice. Buy stuff and back to hotel at 11:20 to find they've CLEANED up! AND I have NO more film with me! Wash and brush teeth and pack and pay 150F, too much, and get to train that leaves at 11:55AM. Guy said, "CHANGE at Redon for Auray," so I dutifully get off at 12:35 and, seeing a train across the way, ask a clerk for the next train to Auray and he points to the VERY car I CAME from, saying "first car" only. I board and ask the DRIVER to be sure and he says YES. So NO wait in Redon (to see town). And this ISN'T on "Paris-Montparnasse-Quiberon" schedule, either. We start at 12:45, and at 2:10 onto 15F BUS to Carnac! Slow but VERY colorful and LOTS of tourists and camping. In at 2:50, having lost my lens cap at photo-stop! Ride with English woman who'd lived in AKRON for 4 weeks in 1965! They take me to middle of HUGE Kermario and I wander up and down in hot sun and buy slides and a book for 68F, take a few pictures, and go back to see Menac, even larger stones over a larger area. Get a ride to intersection, but have to walk back to town. Tired enough so that the Tumulus doesn't attract me. See that the bus doesn't get THERE till 5:10 and to Auray at 6:10, missing my 5:35 train! So I try hitching from 5:40 to 5:55, but it doesn't work, so I JUST make a sign "Auray" in my notebook when a woman stops who said she was afraid of "an old man" (and she's 40 HERSELF) but "the too-little sign" intrigued her! We chat in French until SHE changes to English! Drives me RIGHT to station, where I have a 5.6F beer to match the 5F beer I had at the "Artisans" at Kermario. To crowded platform to finish this at 5:30. Hope there's room in first class! I get a GOOD seat at 5:35 but have to leave it at 5:55, not thinking to check it was occupied from VANNES to Paris. So I get ONE LAST window seat in a stuffier nonsmoking COMPARTMENT at 6PM, hoping NOT to be replaced by a MUTILÉ! Into Nantes after changing trains in Redon and waiting on hot platform for a long time. VERY hot ride, and Terminus only has room and breakfast for 167F! Sit for an exhausted hour in pretty Jardin des Plantes. Get hours for places (except Chateau) and search for places to eat, and end at La Raclette with Brazadere, good meat self-grilled, good frites (square) and salad and company of water-drinking tough and his girl, and mother with child who say goodbye to me. Walk back to hotel to bed by 11, still too tired to cum.

MONDAY, 7/30/84: Wake at 6:45 after strange dream of a medieval courtesan who displays her cotton-draped and ribboned cunt, then removes the "cap" to display a slit over which shiny, trimmed blond hairs have been artistically combed and held with a gold clip. Jerk off at 8 and feel too weary to move, so I search Michelin for three-star sites, listed on page 41 of notebook. Shower and down at 9:45 for breakfast, packing and FINDING my traveler's checks! Out at 10 for ill-lit shot of park, and Museum of Beaux-Arts is 3/4 CLOSED, so I'm out at 10:25 having bought two de la Tour cards for 3.20F. To Cathedral and IT is half-closed for repairs, so I shoot Frances II tomb and organ and trot to Chateau by 11, and HERE the Duc gave BRITTANY to FRANCE! Lots of lace and costumes and crafts and closed beds and marriage paraphernalia, and climb hot walls and see silly SEA museum (models, ships in bottles, men harpooning whales and whales foundering men) and buy slides and out at 11:30 to look for change, but leave hotel and get to station to find 855F for $100 THERE, and ditzy clerk examined my passport only AFTER giving me the cash! Onto broiling train at 12, again reserved, and I must sit in SMOKING car next to SMOKER to get a window---leaving BACKWARD at 12:10. Hot ride (could FIRST class have been UNCOOLED and second class COOLED?). Into Angers at 1 and find that the MUSEUMS are closed till 10AM tomorrow, getting information from OPEN office across from station, AFTER spending 10F to get RESERVED seat on two-hour train to Bourges tomorrow. To Hotel l'Universe and check into 441 for 127F, wash face, and head toward chateau, disappointed to find that Logis du Roi and other apartments are CLOSED. Buy film at LAST for only 50.50F for 36 slides! Climb walls and take photos and down to bare-ish chapel and refuse "free" wine tasting under Logis, and into Apocalypse at 2:10 and follow each and buy till 3, then to cathedral and look at INCREDIBLE pulpit and buy cards of it after paying 5F for a fairly poor treasury. Out to see other churches but just start wandering old city and sit down EXHAUSTED outside for a huge Omelet de Club for 19F and two beers, slow, reacting for one hour to an allergy! I watch people come and go, then get a Panache Blanc, half beer and half lemon, good, and TOTAL bill is 39F WITH TIP! At 5:30 decide to walk to St. Serge, and choir carvings are ABOUT one foot tall and 60 feet up! Hard to tell a THING. Folder says XVII Century! Walk through Jardin des Plantes and like Rennes it has fountains and cages, this time BIRDS (remember deer BELOW in "moat" around Angers Chateau!), and across to OLD "House of Adam" and lovely theater and pass museums of Pincus and Barrault, having walked more "old city" walks and getting cassis and mure (?) ice cream for 7F. All open at 10 tomorrow, and I search out (past unlabeled Tour St. Aubin, thanks to Angers folder) Prefecture and cop strolls out. "Est-il le Gallery Romain?" He says I'm REALLY not supposed to be there, but go ahead. OLD carvings and heads and grotesques and religious figures and ORIGINAL FRESCO-COLORS! Incredible. Thank him lots and wander more streets at 7:20 to FINALLY see seven cinemas in one! One is Hercules at 8 and I wait on bench and write this and watch Olympics on TV and watch musclemen gather for film! But mostly kids sitting in back smoking, and for SOME reason the 28.50F admission is 19F, "dix francs moin cher" she says, for plus agée? For early show? Getting in early? Well, at least I've solved the problem of what to do to 10:22 PM. Hope it's VO (voix original). Good chance to research my NEW muscleman fantasy---to start a FAD at orgies for gay muscle-builders to tense their muscles to MAXIMUM and then cum that way! I've had (and WILL have) lots of good HARD---head of body symbolizing head of cock that CULMINATES in cum. Perfectly AWFUL movie, at least bettered by Ferrigno being dubbed into French. But if OLIVIER couldn't pull off Zeus in the ARSULA UNDRESS epic, how can Bobby Smith pull it off HERE, with AWFUL goddess costumes, CHEAP special effects interspersed with COLORED shots of volcano from On­e Million BC and Pal's Atlantis picture. AWFUL, but NICE bulk, though he must have an AWFUL stomach because he NEVER shows IT. Out at 10:35, to hotel, eat Pub Salade for 19F and "Formidable" Dortmunder for 18F and tart apricot for 6F. Awful food, but cute kid with dull father and CUTER friend look good. Bed at 11PM.

TUESDAY, 7/31/84: Wake at 5:30 to noises in alley and 7:30 to HEAVY RAIN. Study Michelin to 9, shave, breakfast, pay bill, and out at 9:40 to Hotel Pince. It opens at 9:55, not much of note except a lovely little head of Selinus from Greece, prints from Japan, embroidered silks from China (grand Mandarin hem), and lacquered wood from Japan. Out at 10:20, buying book and hearing of Lenepveu, seeing pictures of head from Fontevrault, and dashing in HEAVY rain to Beaux Arts Museum for 1F, religious part having only Ingres and SAME head, paintings not much at ALL upstairs. Out at 10:40 and to hotel and station and on train at 11:05, BACKWARD seat that I change to FRONT to take long shot of Saumur. Angers hidden because train's in a trench, Saumur only clear for moments. Usse and Villandry hidden by near trees, great distance, and inconspicuousness; Langeais hidden by junky near buildings and literal junkyards, VERY unpleasant. Fontevrault, Chinon, and Azay-le-Rideau MUCH too distant. Woman passes in aisle of train; I expect her to be carrying a jerky bag and follow along her arm to be met full in the face by a charming 8- or 9-year-old girl, blond, long-faced, solemn, and totally focused on me from the first moment she passed the chair-back. I could almost believe in reincarnation: here was a lover in a former or future life, whatever gender, who at some level KNEW I would be there and focused ALL her soul into her single glance. Possibly fifteen years from now I shall meet a beautiful young woman who will say, "I remember seeing you on a train going to Grenoble," and I would hope, thanks to the intensity of her stare, to in fact remember her. Sadly, lots of overflow from second class hang around the first-class car, and boarding at Tours is a melange of people looking for unreserved seats that haven't been claimed until Nantes or Angers. Awful English-looking woman next to me rustles bags and unwraps a sandwich to eat on the way. Long stop outside Tours at 12:20 AM. Chenonceaux close (GREAT view of parking lot) but the castle is COMPLETELY encased in trees. Reminded here of all the barns, garages, storage depots, and even HOUSES dug into CLIFF-SIDE along the valley. Really raining into Bourges at 1:45. Ask for Troyes and it takes 7 or 9 hours!! Change to Nancy in 7 hours, better for MORE. AND reserve on TGV to Nimes on the third! Check into hotel (hall TOTALLY black and concierge laughs at me, then goes up with me, opens the door to the JOHN, and says, "Il etais completement noir!" as I said. Back to station 2:25-2:45 to get two SMOKING seats before I "correct" him. (He says, "Vous n'avez pas DEMANDEZ." Then, "Lamentable" (under his breath)). Back to hotel for key for JACKET and out through RAINY city (rivers are nice in rain, though) to Palais Jacques Coeur to find Musée Berry CLOSED until 10AM tomorrow (when I leave), so only their GUIDED tour (and SALES desk CLOSED Tuesday and Wednesday!) at 3:15 and then ONLY Hotel Lallement (combo for 3 for 11:50F; Jacques Coeur alone 5.80F). Sit in comfortable chair in steamy lobby and write this. [Don't forget Brittany REDheads, AND Harry Von Zell dubbed into FRENCH!] Fairly clear guide through furnished chateau, but the "charpente" of the "inverted ships" is spectacularest. Lots of details and few questions, up and down stairs and under ORIGINAL roof. Out at 4:10 guided by guide to Hotel Lallement, and for a second I think it's the SAME guide, but only a lookalike. Here the kick is given by vitrines of old toys and games and "women's work" and story of revolution. Mostly bare rooms, but it's interesting. Out at 5:05 to Cathedral and climb tour in rain and down into crypt. Getting tired toward 6, so I wander looking for restaurant (after finding Tower of Echevin) and end at Piq'Assiette at 7 for good tomatoes, just passable sweetbreads, and AWFUL mushed spinach and potato, and 1/2 liter of wine, all for 70F. Out for the only "good" show in town: Search for the Green Diamond and it's pretty bad--people are so UGLY; and the fact that George Pierson RECOMMENDED it is even odder. Small crowd, as before, but fewer ads. Out at 10 and back to hotel, still not quite dark, and brush teeth and get to bed at 11.

WEDNESDAY, 8/1/84: Up at 7 and then 7:30 to shower and out to breakfast at 8:10 and out at 8:30 to LOVELY sunshine in Pres Fichaux for pictures, then to Archbishop's Garden, and around cathedral and streets for more shots; fellow from Jacques Coeur REMEMBERS me and lets me photo tower. To hotel for bag at 10, going up to piss, and to station to find I should take train to Lyon. Onto platform and wait and wait, but it doesn't come until 10 minutes late (and I even reset my watch to match station's time) and leaves even later. Conductor assures me that train to Nevers is a "correspondence." We get into Saincaize at 10:52 and I dash down the platform, asking engineer to be sure, and get through to be only one in 24-seat first class, leaving at 10:57! Then an Edgardo-smile tells me that THIS train continues to Dijon. "Pas de problem." Get in at 11:06 (glad I DON'T have to sweat 11:04 departure) and three singles join car, now 1/6 full: in fact one IN each quarter of seats! Leave at 11:10. 1:07 stop in Chagny, fond memories of Lameloise two years ago with Paul. Into Dijon at 1:50 and decide to just EAT and have LOVELY large salad, GREAT VOLUMES of sweetbreads and peas, 1/3 liter Cote-du-Rhone wine, and chocolate mousse for 70F including 2F tip! Wonderful! Dash out at 2:38 to correct track and forward to correct car at 2:41 and into TOTALLY EMPTY COMPARTMENT at train-start of 2:42. DELIGHTFULLY happy on long ride up to Nancy, debating continuing to Metz only briefly, and ONLY flaw is fat-assed girl who insists on standing in hall blocking my OTHER window's view. Sadly, too, totally clear sky of this AM is now somewhat DARKLY cloudy. Thinking of Tour D'Argent tomorrow. Toul looks like an old WALLED city in Guide. Rather TIRED at 5PM---too much lunch! Into LARGE city at 5:15 and walk toward the Crystal Hotel, fairly far, and see a sign for the Hotel Foch. It appears quiet and I pay 98 + 15 = 113F for douche and petit dejeuner. Up to room with shower installed like an armoire, glance through all the starred sites to see they're ALL open 10-2, 2-6, and now at 5:35 there’s only sightseeing left! Out to follow pedestrians across plaza ("Door's open all night," he says) and on main street I'm impressed by the SIZE and MASCULINITY of the young males. Blood mixtures? Into dreary cathedral, needing work and getting it only on the roadway OUTSIDE, and left to Stanislaw Place. Maybe it's because it's Polish, but it always seems more NOTEWORTHY than particularly LOVELY. Through triumphal arch and wrote hours of Beaux Arts and Lorraine Museum and photo Coffre Gate and Pepiniere. Crowd teases chimp, who splashes water back at them. Three lionesses pace, and an Arabic boy obligingly scratches the neck of a full-uddered goat. There are kiddy rides and eating booths, a rose garden and treed lanes and a large fountain playing hide-and-seek with the sun through clouds, but it's NOT as neat as the gardens of Nantes or Angers. Back to Stanislaw and sit with a DARK Panache Blanc for 7F from 6:55 to 7:50, then just get TIRED of tourists and motorcyclists parking practically in the basin of the Aphrodite fountain, and decide to see what movies are playing. None. Back to plaza and sit for 45 minutes watching two gay (?) guys sniff each other out and sexy packs of boys with one arresting outrigger in each 7-8. Tired here and go one last around for Stanislaw, and decide to look at Michelin one-stars. Both closed, but La Gastrolatre has two Gault-Millet toques and 15 points, so I have terrine of tiny Breton fish in mediocre tomato and good cream sauce, half of a full bottle of Cote-du-Toul Gres wine for 45F, (on 120F menu) and Potée Lorraine with a small piece of FABULOUS pork and sausages and potatoes and STRINGY poireau, but not THAT much that I'm overfull. Request (of Mme. Tansy) a TASTE of Bergamot sorbet et ses caramel, which is "tres fort" as she says, and a Saboyan over fruit has WHOLE fruit. Stagger back to hotel at 11:15PM.

THURSDAY, 8/2/84: But hard to sleep with people SCREAMING below and banging doors and hollering in the halls. Curse and finally drop off to sleep. Shower on waking at 8AM and breakfast almost alone in sunny room and out at 9:30 to photo sun-bright place and sit on steps waiting till museum opens at 10AM. From prehistory to Roman times and some 4th-Century stonework and stuff from old archbishops from 900, one climbs to 15th-Century paintings of parties IN THIS CASTLE and stuff from the dwellers and portraits of people and place settings and china and beds and when no more can be assimilated there's a whole room of clocks and watches taken apart to show their workings, old microscopes and telescopes and machines for making circles, elaborate wood carvings from Germany, Limoges and Sevres china, and ivory carvings and religious artifacts. Bedrooms as lived in, more about the Polish king, then lots of stuff on Napoleon. Stifling in their QUANTITY. But they have NOTHING to buy except two postcards for their de la Tours, and even of their de la Tour COPIES. Dash to Beaux Arts, after detour to Hotel de Ville to see "single piece wrought staircase", grand. Modern downstairs (and on mezzanine) and old upstairs, some nice, but nothing great and lots closed. Out at 11:40 after two MORE cards and to Rotisserie de Chapon Fin for GREAT lunch: Cardinal (?) aperitif with bread and cheese, Roquefort (GOOD) salad with uncooked bacon (bad) and lettuce, then lamb with carrots and potatoes, WITH white wine, then GREAT fromage a la creme ("Sucree or non sucree?" "Sais PAS!" "Je le servi sur la cote." "Bien.") And I LIKED it a LOT. THEN an apricot tarte, and ALL for 115F! GREAT! Leave 1:45 and back to hotel rather fast (hitting back of right hand on sign and getting a sting for a few hours from damaged nerves) for 2:04 train to Paris, moving from "part window" to FULL window for increasingly cloudy trip to Paris, slightly late by 5:10. BUSY metro back, paranoid again, and back at 5:40 to phone Grand Hotel de Balcon---no Groomes! I strip and wash shirts and socks and Rebekah calls in French and asks for JJ and I say, "He's back at 8" and she says, "Et peut etre vous etes Robert Zolnerzak?" I laugh and she giggles. In Hotel des MINES: others DIDN'T GET the PAID reservation! They come for drinks at 8. I'm JUST ready and we have water and JJ's in at 8:15. We chat, park on bridge and get into gold elevator at 8:40. VERY PRETTY and deluxe place, but SILVER menu HARD to read and awkward with only MALCOLM with prices! BY CHANCE Malcolm and JJ want "Caneton Tour d'Argent" and there MUST be 2! I have "Caneton Fleurs de Chine" and Rebekah another duck, and it's GOOD but not SPECTACULAR, particularly for about $70 each! Out at 12, NOT stuffed, to their hotel and back to bed at 1, really EXHAUSTED again.

FRIDAY, 8/3/84: Wake with JJ at 7:30, then up at 8:15 to chat and he gives me forms to pick up Tunisia tickets. I'm still full, so I don't eat, but I refill my pill bottles, call American Embassy ("I'd remember THAT name" and "We'll send anything we find to the HOME address") and get out in POURING rain at 9:45 to find tickets NOT in yet, and around to change $300 for 2626.30F and back to repack everything AGAIN and rush out at 11 and get two trains to get to station JUST at 11:35 and find way to the TGV, but car 13 is ALL the way at the front end of the platform, so I get there JUST at 11:41, and train pulls out at 11:43. There's seldom an impression of REAL speed, rather "just a bit faster than a regular train," and OFTEN JUST as fast. Tick off stops, having moved one seat BACK (and MY seat taken by girl ACROSS in AISLE seat), and sky gradually clears to heat and we make up our little lost time. PEAK of mountain to "left" of Valence. Off in Nimes at 4:02 EXACT and see "Hotel de Paris" and go THERE though it's ONE star and AWFUL, even for 100F! [Make list of Aperitifs: Ricard, Pernod, Dubonnet, Muscat, Martini, St. Raphael, Guignolet (cherry and LOVELY), Porto, Lillet Blanc, Ambassadeur, Suze, and Cinzano] Dump bag, however (I'll worry about it LATER), and try Beaux Arts FIRST (a real MISTAKE, since it's open till 7 and I could have seen anything ELSE in that BRIGHT light and heat) for an all-Klee exhibit 4:10-4:50, regular works "en travaile" and find Museum of Vieux Nimes is closed (which appears to be no real loss, since Michelin doesn't even LIST it). Out to Arena, and heat and fatigue REALLY get to me. I climb to top for a picture (book 15F) and down to walk shady Victor Hugo for Maison Carrée---not MUCH inside, and then try to dash around to Archeology at 5:45 to find them closing. So I HAVE to stay tomorrow morning, so I plop down at a sidewalk cafe at 6 and sit till 8! Maybe the waiter was pissed at me, but MAYBE he just LET me watch ALL the SEXY MALE legs pass by in short shorts---German, English, American, French, hippy, etc. Squalling kids, too. Try Pschitt Limonade and it's not so great [I write this after COPYING lovely aperitif list at Lourdes restaurant 24 hours later]. Ask what "syrop" he has and then try "concentrées" and he said "fraises, framboises, grenadine" as if I SHOULD know, so I try a grenadine and it's ALMOST tasteless. Might have SOME zing taken STRAIGHT. Drink all water and listen to increasingly awful motorcycle noise as restaurants begin to come out. Decide to walk to park, closed by "Charles Bolling jazz rehearsal" and glance listlessly at fountains and wander back to center of town to be attracted by sign for "Au grande verre," which changes on the door into "Au grande respire." I enter to a party of seven and a single guy. Woman at head of party shouts "Jean-Luc" as I stand waiting, and a bustling host shows me my solitary table. Paté (self-served) is good, wine is red only, AGAIN from FULL bottle ("but don't take MORE than half!" he jokes), and veal and rice good enough. Again the lovely fromage a la creme for dessert, and the whole thing is 80F. Stagger back to hotel about 11:30 and drop into bed---teeth not cleaned LAST night OR tonight. Dog barks, some train sounds, rather warm, and the john STINKS, but the place isn't bad and I drop to sleep at once.

SATURDAY, 8/4/84: Up at 6:45 and out of bed at 8:15 to shower and get out breakfast-less to be at Archeology at dot of 9. they have to turn on lights for me, and Jesuit Chapel is just LOADED with old carved (and uncatalogued) STONE. Through by 9:45, blown glass invented in SYRIA about 100AD. Some vases with one-stroke cocks as long as the torso. One nice torso of athlete about three inches tall. Through town to Square House for photo in sunlight, then dash up hill to Magno Tour and RACE to top by 9:55, VERY tired, snapping pictures without labeling, and hope for cab but get none, and RACE to hotel by 10:22. [I copy three-star Michelin Pyrenees sites: Lourdes, La Bigorre, Pau, Le Bearn, South of Pau, Haut Ossau, Haute Soule, Pays Basque, Le Comminges, Pays de Foix, and Andorra. I note meal for 67F: Guignolet aperitif for 8.5F, Hostelerie 1/2 red for 9.75F, and 47F for tomato-noodle soup, fried herbed bread, cheese knish, escallope de veau panée, frites, salad, ice cream.] Pant up to room, exhausted, heart pounding, hot and sweaty, grab dop into bag and drop key and run across street to station at 10:23 by ONE clock and 10:24 by NEXT. Find platform and jump aboard ANY car, and it even MOVES some, then stops for more people. I find I must go six cars AHEAD to get into car for Tarbes, otherwise I'm going to Bordeaux! Dash OUTSIDE and find a seat on the aisle in a jammed car, then as we move I ask conductor where first class is and AGAIN he stares at me as if I should KNOW and says, "Voiture 28, la deuxieme voiture." Go past JAMMED cars, people standing in hallways with bags, and car 28 is FREE of standees, but few free seats until I see an empty window going forward and find it was reserved in Nimes and NOT TAKEN. Sit, saying, "Si l'on vienne, je pars," and Grandma, Aunt, Mom, and darling girl (about 11-12) smile and nod. Find bar six cars away, so at 11:45 at Beziers I dash OUTSIDE for a 30F salad/ham/beer/roll brunch in the stuffy bar and at Narbonne dash back (meeting mamma and daughter who walked through cars) to car with a bottle of water that I DRINK on the way, rather unusual for me. Find the air conditioning works ONLY if the door is CLOSED. Clouds up and RAINS along the way, little in the line of real sights until some nice rolling slopes getting into Lourdes. Off at 4, having put pants on over shorts for the coolth. [Find it's MICHAEL Nostradamus, from St. Remy 1503-1060.] Exit at Pelerin's gate (not Malades) and try a closed "Chambres" place before going across street for 2-star Beausejour for 78 + 14 = 92F, and then find there's not even a shower on the FLOOR. No matter: drop bag and don jacket and take umbrella and out to booth that talks of "Grottos of Betarram" and get a 5.5F ticket that turns out to go through TOWN, LOADED with tourists (like every August, says the driver) and get off at foot of CHURCH for BERNADETTE'S grotto. Oh well. Pick up English map and EVERYONE is just smiling like they've been through est. To grotto and touch stones and drink water and take pictures and tour crypt church and ABOVE church and St. Pius X UNDERGROUND and MIDDLE church, and back to street to Ledis and up three flights at 6:50 for 47F menu (listed earlier) and GOOD food and 9-member Italian family and 3-member French with Green Guide to Pyrenees, and out full of GOOD Guignolet and 1/2 wine at 8:10. To church to find procession at 9, and look at tent of YOUNG, and a group saying their OWN rosary, and amplified voices in French, English, Spanish, Italian, Polish, Russian (oh, I forgot my ENGLISH slide show at 5:45 from smiling English-speaking GERMAN guide and get SNCF MAP of routes into the Pyrenees!), and others, including Latin and Scottish, more CONFUSING than helpful. Climb staircase and it's a GREAT vista with 10,000 candles till 9:45. Walk SHORT way back to hotel, jerk off, and collapse into deepest sleep at 11:10 PM.

SUNDAY, 8/5/84: Wake at 7:15 and up at 8, still tired, and down to breakfast 8:30-8:45, catching up on writing, and pack and to information booth to find that NOTHING goes anywhere this Sunday morning. Look at schedules from Toulouse south on train that I can catch at 9:52, but then see that I can go WEST at 9:41 and it's 9:30! Dash to hotel for bag and to station to write and aboard 9:42 train in SLEEPING compartment (weather just SLIGHTLY less cloudy than yesterday) and off at 10:15 in Pau to find I missed a trip to the high lake at 9:50! Next "out" to Oleron at 1:50, which I hear as DOUZE heures moins dix not DEUX heures moins dix. CONFUSING. Get three franc pieces for 2.95F! and check bag. Up to town at 10:30. Nice park at top but FAR peaks are clouded. Over to Chateau de Pau and find tour just started---well! for furniture, tapestries, woodwork, fireplaces, niche-ornaments, paintings, displays, china, armoires, chests, beds, damasks, and bronzes it ranks tops among ALL I've seen. START with Henry IV exhibit that by GLORIFYING his childhood makes me think he must have been HATED as an adult and king! Then a Bearaise Museum from 11:55 to 12:20 and out to buy a book for 30F and take photos and find that two one-star restaurants ARE Closed Sunday and end at Regalty with Thon Frais Basquaise for 50F and pichet of white wine for 9 for 59F and 1F tip for 60F for GOOD meal in shade till 1:20, down to find two-car train to Oleron waiting, and I'm only one in 8-seat first class out at 1:50. Not exciting but then on bus at 2:30 and when "helper" moves to a regular seat I got to JUMP seat and it's LOVELY, enabling picture of OLD castle (people AT Fort du Portelat---Petain imprisoned in WWI by British) built into cliff just before Col de Somport and customs at 3:35 and he TAKES my passport as I catch up to date for first time in LONG time at 3:45, earplugged against AWFUL spate of loud American music from cassette of driver. I have to jump up and down as others leave, but view is quite worth it. To actual BORDER at 4:10, Canfranc BEYOND yet. Through Candanche, big ski resort, and Canfranc is only a TRAIN STATION to Spain. CHANGE busses at 4:30 and RIGHT BACK, getting SPANISH exit stamp at 4:45! Nod out a bit on the way back. Can't even blame it on the altitude, since it was barely 1000 meters---no, it was 1632 meters, which is 4900 FEET! Cloudier (driver says it's USUALLY sunnier on the Spanish side) and a bit of rain on the way back, but clear in Oleron. Too fatigued to SERIOUSLY consider the whim of hiring the stopped taxi to see the ** facade on the church we passed BEHIND in the 15 minutes left before what appears to be the SAME two-car train leaves again for Pau at 18:33. THEN wait for the 8:11 to Lourdes? Or go more west? As train pulls out of Oleron at 6:35, Lourdes still seems best bet with all those TOURS to MOST spectacular spots! In at 7:15 and the next train to Lourdes IS 8:11, so (ugh) I decide to eat in Terminus Restaurant (indeed!). Chicken looks SO awful I get roast beef, awfully underdone but rather good nonetheless, and salad and frites and cucumber salad and apple tart (awful) and melon for 63.50F, a real crime. But it passes the time, and 8:11 pulls out with ME in a nonsmoking car ALONE at 8:13. Into Lourdes at 8:45 and check into Hotel Terminus for 130F and get douche AND WC. Back "across-bridge" way TO basilica even LONGER than other way and JUST as touristy. Get there at 9:15 JUST as announcement "Let procession commence" is made, and THIS time, rather than being barely 1 1/8 row of sick (maybe the rain last night put them off?) the WHOLE FRONT THIRD of the arena becomes FILLED with the chairs and beds (some in RED, with RED candle-holders---the SERIOUSLY ill?) and the rest FILLS with people at last by 10:10, though SOME of the sick began LEAVING at 9:50. Still impressive, and German carrying a child has a RADIANT smile. Try another "shortcut" and get stuck in a HOSPITAL from which they must open a GATE to let us out, and I walk ALL AROUND the city and get back by 11:10, again really exhausted, putting in DOUBLE earplugs to be SURE to sleep and drop RIGHT off by 11:20.

MONDAY, 8/6/84: Wake at 12:30, 6:30, and up at 6:50 with dreams: 1) Two cards or one card mailing (?) on pulley, 2) Michael B. feeling my crotch, 3) carful of people to "island" for "breakfast." Breakfast 7:30-7:45 and they GET me a reservation for Artouste for 65F. HALF-day? Told to go down street to "Gare Touristique Jeanne D'Arc" and there a frantic woman finds me and says I must CHANGE. On one bus at 7:56 and to OTHER station (near Church) at 8 and get on bus's FRONT seat again and leave through Eaux-Bonnes and LOTS of fog to Artouste (dammed lake) at 9:30 and up foggy téléphérique (and a STOP with PANICKED girls---and LOTS of women vomited into plastic bags on the bus) to 10AM: highest train in Europe, with OPEN sides and I'm behind a plastic front to hope to cut down wind, alone in front seat, and we start NOW at 10:07AM! But it CLEARS and we reach Lac Artouste at 11AM at 1991 meters. Then one must climb ten MORE minutes to the lake, gradually clearing, VERY nice blue, LARGE fish swimming, fishermen, waterfalls, snow TOUCHING lake, so "at 2000 meters" in August! Stand and gaze and take pictures and buy two chocolate bars (I THOUGHT he said we stop in some VILLAGE for lunch, but I may be wrong and I want SOMETHING to eat if we don't stop until 5PM). Forgot pills. Down at 12 and grab LAST seat---advantage of being alone: I can get photos from EITHER side. At 12:16 they announce collection of tickets. Strangely, there are a fair number of mentally retarded---well, NOT so strange, as tour comes from Lourdes! Could INCREASING crowds be in honor of NOVENA (9 days?) of feast on 8/14? If so, we're IN it! Just have to ADMIRE their method of ALLOWING CROWD flow. Now 12:19 and woman RUNS up with tickets for lip-pulling, hooting, dark-eyed idiot. Sun will be BEHIND on way back! Trees higher up. Driver says Lourdes gets VERY little snow, maybe 10 cm/year. Growing season from April to mid-November! Now lovely FLEECY clouds as others leave first at 12:26 and we follow at 12:27. 2886-meter Pic du Midi d'Ossau--seen on way DOWN, pictures #33-36 AFTER Lac Artouste. Into bus 1:45 (gate) after returning by 1:20. Then drive to Col de Portalet through "pastureland" and cows and sheep WAY up and "houses where shepherd's sleep" and shops, until border at 2:15. I take CLEAR pictures of Pic du Midi d'Ossau and then to shops to pick up MORE chocolate for 13F (2 bars for 13F on the TOP were GREAT) and a sunhat (that I forgot in Brooklyn) for 17F (less than $2) and a bottle of Guignolet for 20F (!) and then take photo SOUTH into SPAIN, then to restaurant for omelet and pichet of vin blanc DOUCE for 28F and back on bus at 3:50 LOADED in TWO senses, but feeling GREAT. Road back swings along and stops in tiny villages, where I buy Pyrenees book for 12F and look at cheese. Try for Pastis d'Ossau (but they're out) and have a Gateau de Myrtille for 3.5F. Back into bus to be dropped AT HOTEL by cheery driver getting smiles from cute guys in the back I hadn't even SEEN earlier. Into hotel to COLLAPSE for a half-hour, then up to close shutters and try to jerk off with mirrors from 7-7:30, but just CAN'T seem to get excited, so at 8:15 I simply GO TO SLEEP, tossing a TINY bit, but dropping right off.

TUESDAY, 8/7/84: Wake at 6:30, over ten hours, having had strange dreams of vague sex. Shower and breakfast at 7:15, having asked clerk and he ASSURES me that the afternoon trip to Gavernie includes the Cirque. Lift the cup of chocolate and there's an ant, small and black. Lift the fork and there are two OTHERS. Brush them off and lift the napkin to a DOZEN. Take the tray into the next room and take jelly back, and MORE swarm out of a HOLE in the top! Complain and get new jam, waitress taking it TOTALLY calmly. Up to brush teeth and put things away and out at 8:05 to go to lower station and buy 27F ticket for 8:30 bus to Betarram. Leave to other station (town ALWAYS crowded, ALL houses are hotels) and get more people, then at 8:40 I take my jump seat. Out of town yet ANOTHER way, and then join old road through St-Pe, which THIS driver does NOT bother to explain is argot for St. Pierre. NICE SUNNY, CLEAR day! Into Grotto-home at 9:10, having to buy ANOTHER 26F ticket for GROTTOS! We're two into four-seat téléphérique at 9:20, and a BUMPIER, JANGLIER, NOISIER, OLDER set of cars there NEVER was. AND we DESCEND as much as we go UP, so a ROAD could just as easily take us AROUND as UP and DOWN. SO far it's only a GIMMICK. Five-minute ride, then another five- minute wait before descending at 9:30 and waiting another ten minutes before following guide goes FIRST into cave, but then it disintegrates as another group joins us and we BARELY squeeze into boat and every place seems filled on tour that leaves at 10:45. The cave is nice but PEOPLE aren't! Quick train in three minutes that pulls the stops out: starts with a jerk, stops in the middle, becomes "runaway" and a real roller-coaster ride, and finally it's "lights out" before exiting into the sunlight. Buy 12 slides BETTER than those on display for 18F and out at 10:55 to write this while waiting for bus to fill. Rather nice formations and lighting and "transparent rock" and living AND dead and rushing waters and huge ceilings, all one needs is to remove the PEOPLE. I grump through passage about kids BEHIND always rushing and pushing, kid AHEAD always lashing out with backward karate kick that's never well-aimed, and people shouting, JUMPING on the concrete and metal floorboards to make as MUCH noise as possible, and chatting during the guide's explanations. Then the SECOND group joins to make it REALLY impossible. Lots of busses at the end, and it's good I didn't BELIEVE the guy at station who said it would be finished at 11---it's that and the bus isn't filled yet. At least with photos forbidden and 12 slides I didn't use a half-roll of film! Back at 11:35 after leaving at 11:10, and he takes me TO hotel. I must change from room 18 (at 130F) to room 60 (at 87.50F) because it's taken tonight and tomorrow is FULL. Get (g as in "plage," and et as in "jet") is a drink with MINT, and AWFUL! CORBIERE is sweet white "vin du pays" and WONDERFUL (13F for 1/2 liter!) Bus #610 to Gavarnie at 1:30. GREAT lunch for $7! Hors d'oeuvres (carrots, Lebanon bologna, rice, and sliced hard egg), LOVELY slice of veal fried, GREAT green beans with EXTRA butter, 1/2 liter (50 cl) of GREAT Corbiere douce, AND 8.8F for AWFUL Get, but ALL for LESS than $7: 60F. Three missing and "last call" at 1:35. I'm feeling GREAT: PAS DE problems! We get to other station and a CROWD rushes us, in fact an old woman says she CAN'T sit in the back and I fear for MY seat, but he tells her to sit in MIDDLE jump seat behind me, and she LATER moves to back. Chasm-y ride to Gavarnie, and Pont Napoleon is another real circus of tourists. On and on to crowded Gavarnie at 3:45: "Hotel 6 km and falls 9km" and I dash off in dust and heat and horse manure and other tourists. Rapid progress (faster than horses), but TIRING. Gobble chocolate and take pictures and push push push. Shoes standing up well, and the shirtless, tanned, bare-legged males offer lots of visual solace. To hotel (beyond which stupid people STILL take dogs!) and farther to large rock on barren prairie, great views of unclouded snowfields BELOW me, people playing. Closest at 4:45 and soak in vista of huge Gavarnie fall, then head back away from sun, feeling cooler and relaxed downhill. Watch clouds coming up behind and sunset coming early, lots of horses and asses having to be restrained from running downhill as small riders cry out in panic and sharp hooves stumble as horses veer from right to left regardless of walkers. Finally back to bus at 5:40 and he says I have ten minutes to drink, so I down a carafe of water and a bottle of beer for 11F including 1F tip. Onto bus and back in haze, past "chaos" of rocks from 1650 earthquake. Clear and beautiful going down, lots of pictures. Let everyone off and AGAIN I'm left AT DOOR of hotel at 7:15. Jerk off fairly quickly and dress at 8:15 to PHOTO procession, and get to parapet at 8:30. [A sheep on a leash tied to a tree! Port d'Envalira is 2409 meters: 7500 feet! The HEIGHTS are only 28-2900 meters! Wander Ax: art in Hotel Royal Thermes; john-water SMELLS of sulfur.] "Led" toward right, but the parapet is SOLIDLY blocked. I debate standing DOWNstairs, wondering why they haven't brought up that GATE yet, and a guard arrives to swing the gate AWAY from the wall where people are jammed! I see that must FREE the wall! Slip along the gate and squeeze BEHIND it as it swings out, and the crush surges AROUND me but I'm SQUARELY in place. When I STAND, Italian women behind me moan and complain; when I stretch, they moan ironically, "Que Stanco!! Poverino!!" Take 6-7 shots, but sadly the crowd is SMALL again: barely a row and a half of sick and HARDLY a squareful, though they DO manage to "finish" their processing from 9:40 to 10:10. Well, I DID it. Wander streets looking for a meal and settle for a croque monsieur and a Formidable that must be a LITER, in a HEAVY glass. People look at me and I look at a LOT of PEOPLE. Undoubtedly one of THE strangest evenings I've ever seen. Out-Fellini-ing Fellini: Lourdes after-dark, after-rosary: bleached-blond boy about twelve in tightest red denim scouting out "good" place for his graying father. Italian families, 8/9 female, none of them knowing what to do with tits and ass but all of them showing it and all of them WANTING THEM USED! Young priests sauntering in cassocks with pretty, young boys (ONLY one to one!). A daughter with exactly the turned-up nose and turned-down mouth of the following MOTHER and THEN a daughter with the HOOK-nose and turned-UP mouth of the FATHER, who follows. Italian old women so ugly even Fellini would turn them down as being unlikely: slicked-back, phony-black hair, enormous milk-legs white, stuffed into tiny sandals that they overflow in all directions, tits sticking out ONE way, ass the other, but with such hideous angles connecting the two that even God would blush. A boy of Grecian Profile (GP) and tiny piglike eyes and a cherub's curved mouth exuding both a SENSUALITY that would make Fabian's discoverer CREAM, and a nail-and-KNUCKLE-gnawing paranoia that would make Mary HERSELF nervous! Tight corduroys bent over a Citroen with three STRANGE males---the STRANGEST a Patrician beauty in back too nervous to even communicate. I with my Formidable, which here must be at LEAST a liter and a half, laughed at by the fat German couple who BOTH caress the mop-modeled lap dog with the pink hair-ribbon. The UGLY forward-slanted man in white stalking the streets "on God's business" but ACHING for sin; the FRIENDS of GP: UGLY, with a directness GP could envy, and "plain" with a CONFIDENCE that could win anyone anything, but which GP OBVIOUSLY LACKS, making ANY dealing with him TERRIBLY dangerous. And the tiny-waisted waiters, and the eyeglassed, INTELLIGENT waiter-friend of GP and twosome. ENDLESS. The Chartreuse trio to my left and the "faithful wife" to the right. And ALL with novena-candles and souls READY for sin! And I write this gorged on beer and EATING Lindt's SINFUL milk chocolate to 11:57PM! What GP HAD was a COCTEAU-head with a hurt, burnt fragility that would SHATTER at ANY attempt at USE! Restaurant about 10:20-11:40, almost CLOSING street, and to bed about 12:05.

WEDNESDAY, 8/8/84: Wake at 6:30 and back to sleep after shitting, then up at 8:30 and see where to go NEXT. Montrejeu seems to offer little, so it's Toulouse---I debate the 9:11 for a MOMENT, but settle for 9:52. Down for breakfast and up to brush teeth and shave and pack and down to pay 390.5F (down from 400+ when she charged me THREE nights at 130F) and get to station. It had been raining HARD during breakfast, but now scattered drops as train pulls in about when I do. Widely spaced first-class cars, and I get a forward-facing AISLE seat in a compartment where a girl loading two older women bitched that the two windows she'd reserved a MONTH ago weren't posted. When the window occupants flashed what may have been a "retired railroad official" card, I fantasized that the trio was BUMPED for the VIP duo. Ride through varied clouds and sun to Toulouse at 11:58, and into station to find that I get a BUS to Andorra from Ax-les-Thermes, returning tomorrow to Toulouse by 4:40PM, then Paris. Chamonix and Annency and that whole REGION can be another TRIP. See a sign for Pizza Croque 9F and decide it's something new, but she points and says, "THIS is pizza, THAT is croque." She barely warms the bottom of a croque and I pay 20F for that and a bottle of rosé, taking a plastic cup for the trip and get on the two-car train with a French (?) woman and Canadian man just married, and a CUTE guy who sadly gets off early, squelching my fantasy that he and I share a room in Andorra! Off after ten stops and cloudy skies in Ax at 2:03. Bus IS at 3:55, so I PACK bath stuff and CHECK sack for 3F and wander into a sunny/cloudy/lovely Ax. Tourist office closed, square boasts Royal Thermes Hotel and a Romantic painting exhibit, then to a thoroughly modern church with an angular Christ. Then up roaring stream to sit for a bit in Tuck Park and admire the torrent. Then gaze at GLORIOUS dahlias in a garden, the rest of it rather decrepit, but are those SEQUOIAS? Enormous, anyway. Back to town and station to board the bus at 3:45; driver says he has to wait for next tram. It also starts POURING rain at 4PM. Will I be WARM enough? Bus off at 4:10 for 32F (I had 31!), six of us INCLUDING driver aboard, radio on LOUD for three women in back. Bus DOES stop at l'Hospitalet for 28F, so I "lost" 4F by NOT taking train to THERE (but Ax was NICER). At 4:40 we're 13 on the bus, including the driver. Mountains appear under BLUE sky at the end of the valley, and it starts clearing. Is there hope? I glance through Intervue magazine and it's not much. Off at 4:45. SNOWING at 5PM. 5:05 stop at INCREDIBLE hotel/shopping center of Pas de la Casa (in Spanish). Traffic jams, the "international" set, sweaters and gloves above bare legs. WILD scene, but TOTALLY commercial and NO beauty. We get WAVED PAST customs. Hope I can get a stamp on the way BACK! Through Canillo and Encamp before Andorra-le-Vella; 6:05 in slow traffic. Andorra-le-Vella only 10 km from Spain. Reach Escaldes Engordeny, 2.5 km from ALV, at 6:30! 2 km at 6:35, MUST be faster to walk: but TOURING is seeing how it comes out---except for lung cancer of constantly smoking and coughing "punk" girl behind me. Complete tie-up in city, everyone shopping, bags on curb right out to the street, and lots of Patek-Philippe, Courreges, and other "name" brands. At "Place des Arcades" at 7:15 and driver takes me to a "special" hotel that has only a LARGE room left. I say no and wander hilltop Gendarmerie and valley-view beyond, but it's too COLD to walk and I try a few more places and finally Hotel Nord has a room for 40F! TINY room and SMALL bed, but clean john and I crap and get out to find Restaurant Quebec to eat good cold-cut hors d'oeuvres, GOOD pork and fries, and AWFUL whole apple and mediocre rosé, all for 60F. Out at 8:15, having eaten fast like everyone else, and the FEEL of the place is so awful that I'm glad I got the EARLIER time of 8:15 to aim for leaving. Walk a few more blocks trying to find SOMETHING to look at, but it's all frantic people and shopping bags and now-closed shops, so I just go back to hotel and crawl into bed with earplugs. Someone enters next door and the walls are cardboard. Toss a bit but get to sleep OK, up again at 10:30 and again at 2:30 to piss and drink water, again in a DRY humidity that saps liquids. At least I'll be rested for the Tunis trip!

THURSDAY, 8/9/84: Dreams: 1) Dahlia-like flowers wilt and mat into felt-like silken slabs of close-knit brilliant color. 2) Some girl like Robin Magid is getting married and someone like George Pierson offers her a wedding gift for her husband of a $1.50 belt and I bristle at the suggestion that I could get her father a shirt or jacket---that would cost MORE. 3) A Western thriller ends with the sheriff facing down three gunmen aiming at him with their pistols. The scene fades to a final scene in which the sheriff, obviously alive, asks with amusement, "You think it wouldn't turn out OK?" Up at 7:10 and wash and brush teeth and out at 7:45 having shit a bit, and the restaurant is CLOSED. Leave 40F and key on shelf! Stand waiting for bus in cold from 8 to 8:14 and push on first for my front seat again. Good! NO traffic on the way out AT all. Was waved through on the way in and it's so commercial I figure I'll have an excuse NOT to have an exit stamp in my passport. Radio keeps on talking about the snow from "north-northwest" and how it looks like winter already and there's such heavy fog on the hills I fantasize there was a good REASON to leave early: by the 11AM bus the summit might be iced in and no one would be able to leave for a week. Try to take few pictures (my last roll of film until tomorrow) but the idea that this is my ONLY time in Andorra leads me to take the pictures I was on the wrong side for yesterday: the curved arches of the "new" church and the "old" church that's right at the road. Fear that the dim light will show the speed enough that the motion of the bus will blur the shot, but that's part of the trip, too. Guys behind smoke and keep jabbing me in the back with their knees. No line coming in or going out of the border at THIS hour. 9:30 at Pas de la Casa for 10-minute rest. Total snow around. Leave 9:38 and actually have to show my passport. Two guys behind have to get out for some paper-checks. Small line of cars coming in at 9:45. Earplugs in against the radio (in FRONT on this model) and the people-chatter (in French rather than the liquid Portuguese-sounding Spanish of the trip in), munching on my chocolate bars to make up for breakfastlessness. Thank goodness driver puts HEAT on; lots of cold sitting in front of the door. Debate ASKING for a passport-stamp, but it's somehow more colorful NOT to have one having BEEN there. Traffic descends into a solid bank of fog. Cop comes out and says it'll be a few minutes more. Radio coming UP was all Spanish, going back all FRENCH. Planned? Still can't get over people in SHORT sleeves and shorts in SNOW, as if INSISTING it be WARM. Or they're TOUGH. Car in front gets its trunk thoroughly searched, but a loaded bus cruises past easily. And DRIVER coughs, frowns, rubs his nose, clears his throat, coughs harder, and lights a new cigarette from his old. Long lines of piss-yellow headlights waiting up the hill for entry. What it must be like on a weekend! Pullmantour from Valence pulls over and cop looks through luggage compartment for ten seconds, then bus starts, THEN he closes compartment, and continues. Phone calls and papers shuffled inside customs's windows. "Chief" talks with an unlit cigarette batting up and down from the CENTER of his lips as he somehow TALKS. Another car's driver pulled over to FRENCH customs across the STREET. 10AM and ANOTHER phone call made with a third hand referring to some passports. Driver collects fares: 25 of us (including "detained" two). 10:05 forms being filled in in window, phone call continues. 10:06, they're back (drat). Finally below MOST of clouds at 10:20. Clouds STILL follow, however. Two guys exit at l'Hospitalet. Into Ax at 10:55, raining. Over to restaurant Terminus but they'll serve only sandwiches, not an omelette. I'd rather wait till a good lunch in Toulouse. Piss and find others boarding train, waiting, so I get bag and switch stuff back into dop kit and break open the Guignolet, really more a PORT than a liquor or wine, and decide an afternoon and night in Toulouse will be nice. Two three-star, two two-star, and four one-star sites. Heat and light come on at 11:25, good: my FEET are cold. Still raining outside, but with Guignolet warming INSIDE, things look brighter as I write this at 11:35. Read some of Out-of-Body Experiences (OBE) and "leave" at 11:50 (Ax, not my body!). Dark ride and I REALLY debate going through to Paris to get used to the HEAT, but make my reservation on the TGV tomorrow and pay 100F for REPAS (new to me): if I eat MORE, I pay; if I eat LESS, they refund. Then out to check a couple of hotels and Hotel Europe a REAL find for 98F including douche, on TERRACE, which confuses me at first. Drop off bag and head for Augustinian Museum, first eating gristly but good gigot en brochette garni and drinking two beers for 51F at Le Pensez-y? from 2:20-3. Augustinian staggering from old capitals from Dimune and Rieux and others, statues with LOTS of colors, huge room of awful paintings that might include an Ingres or Velvet Breughel. There till 4:45, then dash out for two-star Natural History Museum, an INCREDIBLE melange of JAMMED-in birds, skeletons, antlers, and, right next to the whale, over 300 PENIS bones, next to an equal display of HYOID bones (female?)(no, find on 9/14 that it's the bone at the base of the TONGUE---now I can see why they were displayed together!). Displays of mines and minerals from the region, and then ACRES of stones, reproductions of famous Stone Age carvings, some nice, almost-vanished, REAL carvings on antlers and stones, and some terracotta cave animals that I THINK were real, about two-foot-long bison. Mushrooms and shells and coral and eggs by the thousands---truly staggering. And moldy, old stuffed elephant, lion, zebra, rhino, and bear all in DREADFUL condition. Out at 5:45, bypassing the gardens and skirting the Royal Gardens (and Palace?). I drop into the misshaped cathedral, photo the worked-on Dupuy Museum, and when it starts raining I dash past the uninteresting-from-outside Capitol and get to St. Sernan, which JUST closes its crypt and painting-lined ambulatory at 6PM, and look at Romanesque arches and then out to search for Jacobins, past incredible gate of Lycee Pierre Fermat, and get into cloisters (church rather void, like Saint Chapelle) to sound of violins and guitar of Art Festival Trio. Sit enrapt from 6:15 to 6:45, gentle rain, quiet bricks, nice music. Then out to Rue Metz and dreary river and bridge and mossed-over Ecole des Beaux Arts and OLD Eglise Daurode and then to Hotel Assezat for last photo of day at 7PM and to sit next to Christopher Reeve-head lookalike and have an aperitif for 7F and at 8 wander THROUGH Capital and see Restaurant Richelieu and decide it's OK. The appetizer of avocado and mushrooms is fabulous and large, as is the steak in red pepper and potatoes, would that the steak have been better done (told the brochette to go back for more cooking this afternoon) and have less gristle. The Coupe Richelieu wasn't bad: a LOT of cream and cassis sorbet, and other liquors, if any, were lost in shuffle. Wine OK, but whole bill of 85F a BIT much when compared to OTHER feasts. Wander back to hotel and take a GREAT shower until 10PM and get to sleep, not using a GREAT floor-length mirror to jerk off with.

FRIDAY, 8/10/84: Wake at 2:30 to piss and then at 7 to wash and repack. Breakfast and pay at 7:45, then back to St. Sernan to look at arches again (no special tour of ambulatory, drat) and then look for a change place but FIND none. To hotel to wash and get bag and to station at 9AM and train is almost empty, good seat as train leaves at 9:10. Carcassonne veiled in fog. Sunflowers, burnt black from facing the sun, nod on their stems. Wonder when "hypermarket" will supersede "supermarket" in the US? By the time we hit Beziers we're totally full. Out at Montpelier at 11:25, still foggy, and FIRST change place (information says "Anywhere"; yeah?) I hit (Credit Nord) pays 8.45F. I'm SURE I can get better. Try another: "Down near Comedia" (where I was). Down side streets and catch "Banque." In to find 8.68 center CLOSED. "Try across the street." THEY change me IMMEDIATELY for 8.68 for $300 for 2604F, saving me 845 x 3 = 2535, thus 2604 - 2535 = 69 francs, over $8, so WORTH the eight minutes' extra walk. A SLIGHT case of nerves this morning: my SECOND Friday since the theft. Back to station at 12 and to Quai 2 to Voiture 2 (at the head) and the car is COMPLETELY empty for 12:17 departure, EVEN at 12:08 as I write this. Change to full-window, FORWARD-going seat, as it seems I have the CAR to myself. At seat 11, any move I made in the aisle opened the door! Starts raining pretty hard at 12:13. And at 12:19 we pull out and car is STILL EMPTY! The ride seems ENTIRELY through farmland, great, sweeping loops past corn and wheat. Lunch for 136F is poor for the money, particularly tiny mutton chop. Drink Guignolet and feel happy. One other person joins. Into Paris at 5:10 and find that DIRECT route to Bordeaux is best. Push past Arab trying to sell 2.3F second-class ticket for 4F. "Home" to talk to Linda for half an hour and call Paul M. to find his brother's been delayed. Wash clothes and shower and put things away as JJ arrives at 8 and Paul at 8:15. We chat and dine at Les Vieux Metiers for 800F, Paul and I split it because tour agency made JJ drive IN from work this afternoon to pick up tickets after saying they'd be available at office tomorrow. Beaune Premier Cru wine not as good as Cote de Beaune, JJ's preferred Burgundy. Drive for half an hour trying to get to Paul's hotel on a one-way street and back at midnight, very tired.

SATURDAY, 8/11/84: Not much trouble falling asleep and wake at 8:20 and lie till 9:45. Paul calls at 10, still no news from his brother. Repack pills and pack travel information to talk over with Paul. At 10:30 Paul's brother's plane lands at Orly. I have yogurt and listen to music and write this to 11:20AM. Get bread at Poulaine and get to hotel to set up Bordeaux, Eugenie, Auch, Puymirol, Albi, Beziers, Narbonne itinerary. JJ arrives at 1:20 (from haircut) and we go to Closerie de Lilas for a good, filling lunch till 3:40. JJ takes their bags to his place and we metro to Pere Lachaise to see tombs of Edith Piaf---can't find Modigliani or Stein or Balzac---and others. Out at 5:30 to try to get taxi but 6:05-6:25 subway gets us home to repack and Paul calls Europcar and finds we CAN get Bordeaux car in city and leave it in Narbonne and there IS TGV 6:30-11:30 for Dick on Thursday. Out to cab at 7 and to Orly Sud at 7:30 to go from Zone 2 to Zone 3 to Zone 1, then upstairs to wait departure gate at 7:50. I've hardly feared flight at all, but when it DOES hit, I really feel it. Read, and flight hasn't come IN yet, says Paul at 8:30. Finally at 9 they announce a 9:35 departure from gate 48. Race there and stand. At 9:15 an Air Tunis plane begins UNLOADING passengers! FEW passengers, and through FIRST gate at 9:25. At 9:40 we're told "ten more minutes." We start on at 9:55 and after a few tense moments in an overcrowded loading tube that groans up and down, I get three seats just above the front of the wing. Heat mounts at 10:10. At 10:15 they ask for a boarding-pass check. At 10:25 someone seems to leave. Back out at 10:26. Off at 10:34. AWFUL fears during takeoff. Last part of flight frightening and bumpy. Land in sight about 12:15 and touch down at 12:26, just about 1:55 hours of awful flying. I THINK she said it was 33 degrees Centigrade or about 92 Fahrenheit outside! No, it's cooler. Dick leaves his entry card on the plane and has to search one out for filling. Paul fears he's lost his baggage checks when he turned over his passport, but we've got bags (and pissed in a VERY smelly john) and waiting for group at MIDNIGHT PRECISELY. Quite weary but game for more.

SUNDAY, 8/12/84: Jet-tour people at Salambo and Oasis. To rather tacky Majestic, huge non-air-conditioned room to which they drag a floor-bed that Paul wants: it reminds him of Japan. Talk and shower and bed at 1:25 and CAN'T sleep until about 2AM. Up at 6:30 to bright light and noise. Breakfast at 7 and out to search for a hotel. Africa OK for 54D but Meridien SELLS at 57D. Back to get bags and check out, paying .38D for ice and water last night, and get into room, me drinking water from tap and surviving. Then ignore recommendation of 55D taxi for the day and taxi to Bardo Museum. Paul immediately turns on to boys and does a couple in the john. Dick doesn't seem that interested, and I get into great gold and ivory room, upstairs to more mosaics, and I shoot good cocks VERY slowly with little hope of steadiness. They've finished way before me at 11:30. I buy $20 US for 1586 from clerk, then spend whopping 18D (1$ US = .786D) for mosaic book. Taxi to hotel and get to Baghdad Restaurant for good lunch for 11D for three with TWO bottles of (watered?) wine. They want to sleep at 2:15 and I walk to medina to have an adventure. My God, how to communicate it. Leave at 2:15 to walk to souk and plan to meet them at 4PM. Then I see CLOSED souk and meet salesman who takes me to perfume extracts and puts jasmine on left arm and citronella on right wrist and insists that only 30 grams added to one liter of alcohol or one liter of water (for jasmine) will be perfume and insect repellant by the quart, and only 6D600 for the 30 g little bottle---also the black stuff that makes Chanel #5 by the quart. Then I follow the plink-plink of the copper carver who takes half a day to make a platter he sells for 20D (with black patterns from Chinese ink), so 40 dinars/day or $50/day or $5/hour---maybe not THAT bad, but the PLATTER must cost HIM something. Sweet eyes, sweet guy. And the STRUGGLERS: the kids, tugging a load of pocked fruit on a barrow of broken bicycle wheels. The man who fondles a suit jacket, trying to make the serge sheen like velvet by ruffling it attractively, or the man selling shoes with a once-elegant black suit now brown in the back from sleeping in shit---staring forlornly into space. The hopefuls hawking Cokes and cigarettes. Give them a dinar and insult them? Pity them? Ignore them? And the dead cats, and starving cats, and scrawny kittens chewing on straw and soon to die, and sleeping cats, and others looking ANYWHERE for food. As I, then, started searching for a PEN, and find NO store until at 2:30 a shopkeeper gave me his OWN and searched over a 1D and 1/2D (which I'd offered and he refused) and takes .100, 12 cents, MAYBE OK? Then I write to 3:30 and think to return. The endless QUITE blue doors, the yellow doors with black-painted bolts, sounds of sweeping, sights of scrubbing, hopeful kids, tired old women, sexy eye-exchanges, eye avoidances. So MUCH, so MUCH. Now I plunge BACK into it. How MANY open (with sexy patrons) haircut places and nowhere to buy a PEN! ENDED at Rue Bab Souika and I went a LONG way along Rue Monji Slim. I trail Paul and Dick as they arrive and they DON'T like the empty medina, so we sit and have a drink and Dick tries to buy dental floss and we're back to let me shower and them have a swim in the pool and try to find an empty drinking table at Cafe de Paris (gay) and don't, so we ALL go to have a nap 6:15 to 8PM, across from busy 9PM dinner at Baghdad and 20D dinner and out about closing at 10:30 and Dick and I walk to station and along "boardwalk" for nothing and back to sleep at 11:15. Dick still trying to find a woman, but he's back quite early. At first there's so much to LEARN about a town: where is hotel in relationship to it; how hard is it to get taxis; what tours are available; what's the local bus and train situation, how many people speak English, how many French; where to change money, where to eat, what's doing at night, how hot will it be, will I be robbed or seduced or disgusted? Then all the questions begin to be answered and they go further afield: Kairouan, Dougga, Gafsa; Paul and Dick are even thinking of Barcelona and Bordeaux. The hotel is known (no dry cleaning on Monday; air conditioning not so good at our end of the hotel; we don't HAVE to go by their bar-count), and Paul and Dick make THEIR plans and needs known, TOO. How many tourists, how crowded, are there first-class accommodations, and WHAT guy just left five minutes ago who would have been EXACTLY what I wanted.

MONDAY, 8/13/84: Paul bounces up at 6:45 (I'm up at 6:30) and drags Dick out of bed and they have "American" breakfast for 3.150D and I "Continental" for 2.350 and walk at 9:30 to train to Carthage. I get 200M second-class ticket but Paul insists on "upgrading" and we have to buy NEW 500M first-class tickets. Long ride across water and get off at Hannibal to be met by caleche who says "only 3D per person." OK. Short ride to villas and guide attacks, asking for 4D, who talks of customs and mosaics and statuary and coins found after rains and statues excavated just 25 days ago and how UNESCO is helping to support excavations but there's not enough money to dig up the columns whose bases we see all around us. These things and those FOUND here are all in the Bardo Museum. I try to read book but give up. To theater, mostly rebuilt, but only the floor plan of the odeon. To amphitheater where Patience and Felicity were martyred, and there's an altar in the depths. We all have a piss. Pass the now-closed, French-built church (Paul disagrees with "no Christians in Tunisia") and have soda and get left at corner of Thermes of Antoninus, huge arches and circular rooms and caves near beach, ruined basilica and mosaics and dark, underground fifth-century chapel and we're VERY hot at 1 to station and get train three stops to Sidi Bou Said, grabbing cab that doesn't know where La Pirata is. Nice meal under Muscat vines amid fervid cats and kittens, lots of wine, and walk to Dick's swim and we then climb steps to city and I get kicked out of town meeting and get GREAT overall views they're too tired to climb to reach. Back down at 4, just miss train and kid begs from me, and I get on at first-class front and they on back and return to hotel at 5:30 and they swim in pool and I wash in cold tub and we rest and out to look around old CITY cathedral and eat at good L'Orient. Very tired to bed at 10:30.

TUESDAY, 8/14/84: Up at 6:30 and to breakfast and at 8:10AM find we "just missed" Kairouan tour. Curse guy and go next door and find nothing much more, down street to try Carthage Tours, closed in one place, upstairs at Tunisia International to be told to go to Gare Routiere, and walk colorful way (auto-repair shops) out Avenue de Carthage to get information about BUS to Kairouan and TRAIN to Gafsa for 2 days, 9 hours each way. Take bus #50 back from 9:30 to 10:20, LONG hot, standing ride through MANY streets, feeling I've seen them ALL (EVERYONE looking for cabs, ALL streets jammed and angry), and get toward Marche Central to find PTT and buy Algerian and Tunisian stamps (while cashing $200 for 1570 on Avenue "B" (Bourguiba)) and then Avenue Morocco (11:10-11:30 zipping around Marche Central) and to hotel to meet them for good lunch at L'Orient and back to Avenue Africa at 2:05PM. Start waiting for the final decisions on the car. Asked at 12:15 for Concierge, who would arrive in "quelques instants." By 12:25 he wasn't there, so I left a message: "Car to Oudna, Thuburbo Majur, and Dougga (driver speaking English, if possible) at 2PM." I'd be back at 1:45. At 1:45 he professed to have got no note, but all would be OK. At 2PM he HAD my note and had found a driver who did NOT speak French or English, only Arabic, and "was now" talking to French-speaking driver. At 14:09, OK for 50D, he'll be here in 15 minutes. In at 14:21, to Herbert Lom-like Mercedes driver, and he takes us PAST busiest Gare Routiere streets toward Sousse and dusty horizons and cement factories, and suddenly dozens of arches of a high old aqueduct. Take two pictures and he says THAT'S Oudna. Drive into drier and drier countryside, and it gets hotter and hotter, and when he finally finds one-carred Thuburbo Majus, I'm starting to wonder if all this is WORTH it, or if I REALLY want to spend 9 hours in a two-car, half-compartment train, the front getting oil fumes from the diesel engine, to see MORE of their desert and MORE ruins. Out of car in broiling heat and go toward highest pillars, snapping pictures coming and going, and down steps and over back rises and KNOW I won't go to those up the hill, pass a local goat herd, and make large circle from 3:15 to 3:45, smearing #15 on legs and face under hat and still feeling hot and somewhat depressed not knowing what anything WAS, but pleased that no commentary is getting in the way of what IS: patterns of stone, some nice capitals, not much carving except on line of 8-9 standing pillars, and lots of prickly weeds and not real city-like feeling. Back to sleeping driver---he gets lost several times trying to find Dougga, driving up awful road to spectacular site at 5:20 and around base and impossibly new-looking tower (later said to be Phoenician, and just can't believe THAT) and up to a few cars and a 200M-ticket seller who follows me up the stairs of the amphitheater doggedly. A prickly old guide tries to follow and I start to say "Estop" so he knows it's not my language, but I stop at even more puzzling "Ess," with a commanding backward wave, and it's a masterstroke: "Babble-babble Ess! Ess blubber!" he says in dinar-less angst, but I'm totally alone (except for kid sitting dramatically in high, hollow arch) for INCREDIBLE temple of Baal or Aphrodite (200BC) and LOTS of impressive side-lots and an arch I go around to photo "through" and large bath-arches and houses and columns and doorways and cellars and streets and stairways. Dramatic cloudy-setting sun and GREAT shots until about 6, tired of climbing and REALLY depressed about being alone. To car from the bottom area and back to MUCH BETTER (obviously main) road, site TOTALLY hidden by completely regular scarp. My way was MUCH better, though I bitched that the concierge had said ONLY Dougga. I'm pleased, sure we'll be back 100 km by 7PM, and he has to slow to 50 or 60 through little towns where everyone stares, there are lots of trucks of sheep he has to pass, and he stops for 15 minutes to buy 8-9 melons that he loaded behind his seat. Some deserted country shots, but I refuse "Roman" ruins in town we pass and get back by 8PM, I VERY worried about meter registering over 80D, and RELIEVED when he believes my 10D to concierge and I give him 45 and he says I'm "gentile" [in French], and I've obviously spoiled him. Up to a note from Paul ("At Baghdad at 7:30") and I wash face and hands and across to find Paul and Dick and MOHAMMED, wink-a-minute, and order Poulet Roti and have GREAT melon and eat fast as they talk and drink late and out at 9:30 for Paul to bed and Dick and Mohammed to try to find disco, but it's not open at dank La Colisee until 10:30, so we wander souk where karate-expert Mohammed keeps winking and telling Dick where the girls are pretty at 11PM and gives me a BIG pitch about working in a museum in the US to help support his mother, and I must stay VERY vague, as against "Canadian" Paul, who simply SHIPS OUT after saying he'll meet them the next day! Back at 10:30 to find it's 12D just to get IN, so we kick Mohammed out, stop at Drugstore for two GREAT COLD lemonades for 400M each, and up to bed at 11PM.

WEDNESDAY, 8/15/84: One of these early mornings I wake and "feel" the earth move and WORRY about earthquakes in this tall building. Up at 7:40, latish, then breakfast and shower and our driver is there INSTANTLY for the day. Downstairs at 9:08AM, waiting for Paul to join our French-speaking driver for all day in Kairouan, having found that the day-tour to Hammamet is FRIDAY and the Air Tunis office is open till 6:15PM for airline ticket confirmation for Saturday. A bit surprised, Paul went along with the 40D for HIM for the day, but maybe Dick feeling sick and having to stay in bed makes him want to get out---as does his 5:30 appointment with his boyfriend. He's down at 9:12 as I write the above. Our driver insists he's a CHAUFFEUR, not a guide. We drive out same way, but go so close to the coast we can see Hammamet and the sea as we talk. Much GREENER drive than yesterday! But though road is wide and speed is up to 110 kph, it's 11:15 before we get to Kairouan and driver goes to information, where we have to pay 1D for entries; I pay 1.3 for book, and guide is offered for 1.5D so of COURSE we say yes! Well, it's Speedy Gonzalez. Zip in side door of Grand Mosque, 700AD, FOURTH after Mecca, Medina, and Jerusalem, and SEVEN hajs to Kairouan is EQUAL to one to MECCA! Photo people standing on sundial and 32-meter tower than which no Kairouan building can go higher, from which LIVE (as opposed to recorded) muezzin calls the five daily prayers. Look at temple chandeliers and innards and columns, then race to the water reservoirs of the Aghlabites, then to the Three-Hair Mosque, tiled and carpeted (we can't walk on carpet or photo the heavily decorated tomb of the barber who had the three hairs), and semi-hotel for pilgrims! Dash out past 1980-rebuilt ramparts and get to souk, where he LEAVES us after taking us to "museum of rugs," where Paul refuses to pay 550D for a huge rug when he just wants a SQUARE. Have mint tea and Fanta and disappoint them. Tip guy 2D (NOT a disappointment!) and out to walk souk and Paul pays 7D for an awful square; we're back to car at 1 to drive to Hotel des Aghlabites for GREAT boys at pool, good tomato/pepper salad mechoui, great veal heart and steak and sauce, and beer AND wine before leaving at 2, driving back SAME way, which allows us a quick "en passant" through busy Hammamet and Nabuel, hot and touristy, though Nabuel smaller and pleasanter. Quickly back at 4:45 and pay 85D to delighted driver (registers over 105D on meter) and in to collapse onto bed, feeling VERY tired. They phone to find Iberian computer broke; I reconfirm my (and their) tickets, and we rest (Dick feels better, even went girl-looking at souk, but didn't find anything) and Paul's out 5:30-6 to get stood up by friend's friend, and we're out at 7 to get name of M'barat restaurant IN souk. Go there at 7:30 and get told to return at 8:30, so we sit and watch sunset colors and stars and plants and ambulance at hospital entrance and in at 8:20 for GREAT meal of mixed grill of two steaks, two chops, and two sausages, Paul's veal shank, and Dick's awful fish couscous. First dancer covered and fat, second old and plumpish, and unannounced visitor THIRD is young and beautiful and sexy and GREAT even in street clothes (though the leather miniskirt didn't harm her style, nor did the little girl she "danced" with). Two bottles of wine (first awful Muscat Sec AGAIN) and out at 11:10 to swing home and collapse into bed.

THURSDAY, 8/16/84: Wake at 6:30 and Paul's out and Dick and I down at 7:15 for final breakfast and pay bill and pack leisurely (Paul discards large straw hat and Dick throws away magazines) and chat about meeting at Bordeaux theater at 5, 7, 11, and 9AM, and they get into taxi at 9:30 because Dick SO wanted to see something of Spain, and I enter next door and sit till 9:45AM, waiting for Hammamet tour. I price the Intercontinental and it's 41D for a single, but the Africa is the same and I might as well try another adventure in a different place, since I wanted to move out of the 53D double room anyway and began to get tired of begging maids and "I know you" of desk clerks. Paid Paul 100D for bill and 13D for dinner last night and thank goodness he has to pay in dinars for his Barcelona flight ($113/person) or he'd have been stuck with dinars. I'm running short, with $50 each day on tour and $25/day for hotel, I've already cashed $600 in dollars for dinars and not finished yet. When he says tour LEAVES from Hotel du Lac, I figure to STAY there. Try LONG time for NO cab and WALK around it and enter for 18.5D room, good PRICE, but DEFINITELY mediocre three-star hotel with tiny room and BARELY working air conditioner. Mope to 10:15, out to Marche Central and wander souk and sit in Cafe de Paris CORNER seat 10-1:15 for 200M Fanta, then to L'Orient for wine and melon and TONGUE and cepes, for 5.5D, then taxi with 52 kg WRESTLING champion in 1982 (contest in Toledo, OHIO!) to Bardo from 2:15-4:25, GOOD to re-see, and SIT on #3 bus back to cash 400F = 35.6D, hoping that'll be all I need. Write up Monday and Tuesday from 5:10 to 6PM. To Hotel and undress and shower and unfasten mirror to cum for first time in a week and catch up on Wednesday and Thursday to date from 7:40 to 8:05, feeling tired and slightly bored. [FORGOT DREAM I had, probably Wednesday, of someone putting his SHOULDER under the wedge-shaped foundation of one of the World Trade Center buildings and lifting UP, so that the building swayed once, twice, then TOPPLES with a great crash that SOUNDED PHONY, and then an obviously PLASTIC boat crashed into it and people dived down to look at the floor-blocks that the WTC was MADE of, crumpled up in the Hudson River. And NOW I live in an INVERTED PYRAMID of the Hotel du Lac.] Down for a la carte dinner at 8:15---soup was FISH, as was CHORBA, so I had NO appetizer, and as I waited for my Tournedos Rossini I hear they have no MELON, so I eat that and a coupe maison of AWFUL flavorless ice cream, and with 1/2 bottle Tardi wine the bill is 5.8D and I leave 500M tip and ask barman for "une verre de glace." "Pourquoi?" "Pour ma chambre!" I say apropos of nothing, and GET it, and drink a beaker of Guignolet in ice, then fill the rest with WATER and it tastes lovely and cold as I write this at 9:45 and prepare for bed for a 10-hour sleep before my trip tomorrow.

FRIDAY, 8/17/84: Dreams: Wake with a SHOCK at 4:30 to write these. An earlier one gone, I remember a fragment of a second where I'm hiking and come to a cliff-face I have to sidestep along, clinging to friable rock at waist-level that I have to COMPRESS INWARD to prevent its scaling away from the cliff-face and tumbling me backward, not TOO far, to the ground. But the third? I've rented a car for $40/day and driven into Ireland to a cabin to be ALONE. But I'm writing "another" musical and singing the lyrics to my wife and friends, and when I get to the line "Yours is the first grade and second grade of love," my wife smiles in great gratitude, and I break into TEARS of gratitude and DASH to the house to write down the line. But it's begun SNOWING and I'm just in shirtsleeves and fumble with the screen door, and the latch-less WOODEN door, having to avoid a FLAP that opens from the BOTTOM as a sort of TRANSOM, and the sleet is beginning to freeze on the screen as I finally wrench it open to be shocked by the dim (and YOUNG) figure of my MOTHER in the hall, saying, "Surprised?" And I'm in such an open, anguished "OH!" of shock (as if SEEING her means SHE [and I?] is dead), but I find myself thinking that I have to RECOVER from my shock (which is partly NOT wanting her to be there) or she's going to suspect I DON'T want her there and am not DELIGHTED but DISMAYED to see her. As I write I remember fragments of the first: a large group of Actualists are sharing a vacation home and Crystal is camping it up in a bikini under a bright green silk shawl worn like a chlamys (dict: a short oblong mantle worn by young men of ancient Greece) over one shoulder, and she's RACING around the room having fun like a kid. I'm going through racks of old clothes and find that over the years I've left TWO pairs of cutoffs (jeans into shorts) with distinctive belts and back-pocket leather patches, and I'm glad to find them and take them home with me. But the SHOCK of finding my mother stays WITH a shivering me as I wake with a jolt at 4:30 to cover myself from a cold air-conditioner breeze and write this to 4:45. Want to write a postcard today and see if she was "thinking of me" at 10:30 her time last night. Wake at 6:20 and lie till 7:20, then get TINIEST, LEAST-sweet "sweetcake" and PETITEST "petit pain" and an aluminum tray for awful jam and butter and chocolate, and there's a cute pair of shorts with a girl and a potty but VERY sweet-looking Tunisian who modestly averts his gaze when I stare at him hungrily. To lobby at 7:55 and lots of people sitting, waiting, and I'm out to entryway to sit on stone and start to write and just AT 8 someone gathers the forms and takes us to an already-full bus where I grab center front seat. Another couple boards at 8:05 and there aren't two seats together. French couple splits windows next to me and behind me. At 8:06 she calls my name and collects my ticket and at 8:07 a doll boards who's staying at Tanit and two OTHERS board. Leave at 8:31, having "waited" for someone (fabrication to wait till announced 8:30?) Into Nabuel (after constant stream of French, English, Arabic, and added Italian commentary, most of it forgettable---except awaiting bus at hospital at 11:30) at 9:30 and to three markets: animal, vegetable, and mineral. Horses, asses, cows, camels, goats, sheep, rabbits, chickens, chicks, photos, spices and leaves and bricks and vials. Glasses and silverware and cooking pots and palms for potting and headbands and sheepskin and copper and coins and "Phoenician" statues and "Roman" lamps and scrap iron and hats and old pants and underwear and dresses and shoes and socks and gowns. Drums and toy ceramics and stuffed camels and animals, beads and bangles and jewelry and cosmetics and plungers and motorcycles and jugs and jars and pots and pans and cups and refreshments and buggy rides and wicker ware and hay and scissors and hammers and nails and perfumes and nail polishes (NO cameras or slides or postcards!?) and shirts and lots of plastic and camel RIDES and watermelon and squash (LOVELY orange) and the 11:32 bus PASSES us! Hookahs and clay figurines and dumpy terracotta camels and toy dishes and T-shirts and rings and old coins and leather bags and barrettes and watches and paintings on glass of Moslems and a few other things I may have missed: sunglasses and plastic sacks and yard goods and vests and silks and cigarettes and cigarette lighters and fezzes and LOTS of shirtless, trouser-less, tanned, blond, insufferably sexy tourists and their women and complaints---and at 11:38 we lack 2 only. Guide goes back to hospital to pick them up. I paid 1/2D for two camel pictures (she refused 20M and I should have KNOWN once she GOT it the idea of CHANGE would be impossible), and rugs started at 7 (surprise, though he DID say if I were German he'd have started at 12) and I (pushed) offer 3, figuring to settle for 4, and HE offers 4 so I can give 3 and 1/2 and he THANKS me. So a "photo loss" is made up in a rug, wool, from South, with wedding gifts around edges and lit bridal lamps in center. And French wife keeps talking over my shoulder like a great big bird, and last two are on at 11:42. Forgot wood and alabaster and stucco and stone CARVINGS. Lebanese melon, "chemis," are 20M/kilo, 10 cents a pound is GOOD, but 180M/kilo for watermelon is expensive. To Hotel Tanit at 12:05 and told we leave at 2:15. I wander back and take pictures and chat with camel man, and in restaurant get FORCED into table with one Irish and two Scottish women, great company (they live in La Marsa, Susan TEACHES in Tokyo and knows teacher who lent them a FLAT) for the brick, fish, and watermelon, and two bottles of water and 1/2 wine is only 660 + 950 = 1610, and we leave 200M tip. To scorching bus at 2:15, waiting for couple next to me, among others. We chatted about Edinburgh and Glasgow and France and Museums and Tunis, VERY pleasant. Leave at 2:24. Get to Hammamet fast at 2:40 and say we'll leave at 4. Pay 500M for not much but views (and a flag-filled, so-called marabout of Sidi Ben Ali), then wander walled old town, across to new town (small pool even dirtier) then back to old town and wander to street leading to ramparts from which I see cemetery and street views. To central court for a bit, then to a panorama restaurant where Fantas are 250, I have only 1/2 and one, so I end up with THREE, leaving 1D, getting in a piss, and cute kid trying to talk (and waiting alone in restaurant later) could I SUPPOSE be had, but who wants a kid? I want the fantastically tanned, narrow-hipped, wide-shouldered, barefoot, trim-bodied bikini that went past as I snapped a photo and neglected to follow, or the short body-builder type who somehow vanished from the beach wall when I got close enough to observe the bathing-suited soccer game going on with NICE bodies. Anyway, I get my shots of BEACH Tunisia. Out to bus at 4 and it's locked because "driver's in mosque." I hope NOT: the amplified shouts seem to be coming without end from the mosque. I read. Driver returns at 4:20. Guide's with other bus until outskirts of Tunis, then she talks all the way in to Hotel du Lac at 6:10. Up and flake out in bed, shower, and decide to have MENU. Ask, "What soup?" "Potage." "Quel SORT de potage?" "Potage---c'est la potage!" "Mais potage aux legumes, aux poisson, aux viandes, QUOI??" "Comme poireau." Turns out to be potato soup. Merlon is a vicious, spiky-toothed fish head gripping its own tail. I brush bread aside and put head and tail on it, he later MASHES the bread into head and tail and takes it away. I get a half-bottle of wine and whole price is 2900 + 900 = 3800. I worry about remaining dinars. Get ANOTHER glass of ice and FINISH the Guignolet reading OBE, and to sleep after DELICIOUS cum at 11:15.

SATURDAY, 8/18/84: Wake at 6:15 to shit quite loosely: trouble NOW? Up at 8:15 to shit again and shower and down to CROWDED breakfast room at 8:45 and wait till 8:55 and NO sweetcakes left. Back to room and lie about and cum AGAIN and out at 10:10 to try the Marche Central and it's NOT jammed (as guide said it would be on Saturday) and rather a bore. Sit and look at people and back to hotel and lie AGAIN, worrying and thinking (the GREAT advantage of being with someone ELSE is that I worry about THEM and not about ME) and bought ten cards, write them, and out at 12:10 after showering AGAIN, and pay bill of 29.100D and have four dinars LEFT. Wait 12:15-12:40 for #5 to get to zoo, more cages under repair than used, but camels and lions and tigers and jaguars and panthers and zebras and bulls and flamingos and LOTS of birds and goats and crocodiles and swimming begging bears and other things, and PEOPLE, and out at 2:20 for two Fantas at Ile d'Oasis and WALK back to city (stop for bus and he says "only 10-15 minutes to Avenue Bourguiba"---the higher wanted me to WALK). Get to Bourguiba and sit on a BENCH and fat guy offers me BREAD---higher wanted me to eat BREAD (I'd eaten chocolate---melted and re-solidified in swirls---to satiation in park). Leave for hotel at 3:55 and look for bus 35 but decide to take taxi at 4:10 and get Harvard-trained driver (?) to 4:30 for 1.5D! In and it says 4:40 for plane, and get pass quickly and up to gate 7 and pay LAST 1.2D for two LOVELY beers that make me SWEAT now as I sit on steps of gate 7 at 5:37 and write furiously, plane seems ready to LEAVE at 6 (oh, and I forgot Cointreau for 71F = 6.1D) and I'm wanting a WINDOW seat on the right DESPITE "women and families first." And bright sun slants through air-conditioned-though-still-hot Tunis airport as thunder of jets drums the air above the sounds of cheerful chatting of people TOGETHER, as I'm ALONE. At 5:55 comes the announcement of 6:40 departure. I start to read. At 6:45 there's an ANNOUNCEMENT and everyone ululates in the Tunisian manner and boards a bus in which EVERYONE wants to be RIGHT AT the door exit. Bus pulls off and gets to plane and after cries of "L'air!" the doors open to equal demands of "Ne descends pas!" We hang for moments, then race for the back entry, and I dash forward to find a woman saving two seats, leaving the window free. I slip in at 6:57 on the nonsmoking side and catch up to date, HOT! At 7:15 they close the luggage door after dimming the lights. I still hope to SEE the flight-path. Move at 7:24, cabin lights flickering. Off at 7:27 (we're on a super 727B!) and fly LOW for five gut-clenching minutes, then we leave land and seem OK, sky BRIGHT in west. But then it's COMPLETELY dark. At 8:07 there's a city that I take to be the coast (but which by map, later, must be Cagliari, SARDINIA!), but then at 8:27 there's quite obviously a COAST. Is 1/2 the flight over water?? My map later says that EXACTLY 1/2 the flight is over the Mediterranean, but lots of it COULD be over Sardinia and Corsica---what a PITY it was DARK! VERY sparse lights (as I add an hour) at 9:30, and for a bit we fly TOWARD the horizon-light, but not NEARLY fast enough to INCREASE it. Follow lights of cities with GREAT avidity as we pass the 2/3 point. Land at 10:22, GREAT lights on landing, temperature 23 degrees Centigrade = 73 Fahrenheit is COOL! GREAT relief! Out FAST and LONG way (as usual) to go to bus and LONG wait standing in jammed bus and then a LONG stop before Rungis and train to Paris at 11:03. I'm really TIRED. Trainmen speak FAST, UGLY French. Got schedule of 11:24AM from Austerlitz to Bordeaux at 16:00, and get metro and walk heavy bag from Porte d'Italie to JJ's at 11:55, expecting a call from Paul at 12, but get none as I drink ABOUT a liter of VERY delicious water, have a yogurt and pills, wash clothes, and pile all the stuff I have to consider taking tomorrow in the living room. Phone on JJ's bed in case Paul calls EARLY, and have trouble sleeping, but feel GOOD again at 1AM.

SUNDAY, 8/19/84: Wake at 7:30 (6:30 old time) and think how GOOD things are! Lie till 8:10, still expecting calls from Paul and JJ, and up to see that three shirts are essentially dry but that five pair of socks and four shorts need help, so I spread them on furniture. Count out last set of pills to the EXACT finish, take a slightly less-watery crap (I think not eating much yesterday was a good idea, but I still have JJ's Poulaine cookies to finish off), debate taking or leaving the Cointreau I bought, and redistribute: things to TAKE, put in shoulder bag, put into PERMANENT souvenirs, leave for LAST Paris day. Occurs to me that "It's all right now, and it's a GAS" needn't mean "it's OK now," but "Everything IS here-now RIGHT NOW, and IT IS, ALL of it, a GAS!" Write this at 9:15 as I decide to relegate this NEARLY full notebook to permanent and take the new one---can WASTE a FEW pages here! Breakfast and write a note to JJ by 10. [START SECOND NOTEBOOK] Shower and shave and start to RUSH as it nears 11. Out at 10:55, now worried, and bag's heavy, so I take a CAB for 20F and get to station at 11:05 and get seat at 11:15, among the last "good" ones left. Inaugurate this book. WONDERFUL "leaning tower" near church just south of Etampes. In at 4:10 and 30F taxi to Grand Theatre. Hot as blazes and sit in restaurant across the street and before I can order, here's Dick to take me to the Normandie, where I have to pay 132F for room. Talk with Dick, unpack, Paul's in at 5 to phone for reservations. Out for walk to survey Old Bordeaux and restaurants, reserve at Roszic, and back at 7:30 to take taxi to Bouliac for the St. James, LOVELY rise overlooking misty meadows, and we three take Degustation menu for 190F: Terrine de canard GREAT with flavorful bits of meat and grease (amuse gorge of three fish nice, too) and I have dark, sweet St. Raphael and Paul a kir to start. Then FABULOUS filets of rouget under a sauce with spinach-wrapped cabbage, then BONED frogs' legs with artichoke hearts, all with the WHITE wine, delicious, and then the jambonette de volaille (TOUGH!) with the red. LOVELY tiny, green plums and nectarines between, the THREE desserts: meringue in LEMON, cake in FRAIS, and pie in grapefruit. GREAT, but Dick's SICK, going to john THREE times and NOT finishing his cheese (creme epuisse, and the white Bordeaux is Cantabau, the Red Grave is Meselman---not very good---and the dessert wine is a Barsac) or dessert. We even have three glasses of Barsac, Paul's insistence. Out at 10:45 for 908 + 10 tip = 918F, or about $35 each, and I'm STUFFED. Back to hotel and DROP into bed.

MONDAY, 8/20/84: Up at 2:30 to shit, again at 7:30, shower and have chocolate for 9F and across to wine exhibit at 9:05,then to Syndicat de Initiative for maps and 65F 1:45 tour of Graves and Sauternes. Next door to the wine shop and Paul starts talking of Japan and we get into their "Sanctuary" and see 2905F bottle of 1924 Chateau Margaux. Get talking with woman and BARELY break away at 10:25 to get to the Grand Theater tour at 10:30. It's NICE, but hardly up to Donizetti in Catania: fire curtain of STEEL impresses with 7000 tons, but stage is tatty and house itself of wood and ALL balconies, with BEST sounds, guide says, in PARADISE. Main salle used as model by Garnier for Paris Opera. Italian bus-groups make tour stretch to 11:10, and we taxi to Musee de Beaux- Arts for 12 Redons, a good and bad Rubens, Titian and Verrocchio, and some STUNNING sea disasters they won't let me photo. Out at 11:55 and to Goya House and take 25 minutes to cash $400 for 3450F, or 8.625 (at stated rate of 8.76), look at Notre Dame Church and at 12:45 meet Paul at Les Noailles for good chicken lunch and peach wine Rinquinquin and Badoit (sparkly) for 60F. Over for bus and travel left bank of Garonne from 1:50 through Barsac and Preignac to look at Chateau de Malle, Chateau d'Yquem (good smell from chais [cellar]), and then to La Tour Blanche for explanation and free sweet Sauterne. Out at 4:10 to write this and sniffle a lot---getting an allergy? My throat was SORE this AM until I "saliva-laved" it. To Chateau Closiot. All sorts of questions and explanations, but I find myself only interested in the arms of a dumb-sounding fellow with extraordinary blond hair, whom I fantasize to work on the rings. Otherwise I'm bored and tired and hot and embarrassed both for the tasters who legitimately feel they've paid their way and need not even CONSIDER buying more, and the official host, who answers the questions and displays the prices and hopes, and the grandmotherly hostess who brings a glass of water for a German baby and shows people to the john and serves other glasses of water to the adults. The Piadas across the way raise beagles and pheasants, who bark and cluck respectively at us, and for a second I fear we've not brought the auto reservation forms, but Paul in fact DID. In and write at 5:10---and we've got to get the car TODAY, and Dick's still going to the john and I'm beginning to feel totally heated OUT. And in my irritability I HATE the couple across from me: SHE smokes in the closed bus and pulls her curtains shut to stare out MY windows---I LONG to pull MINE shut and sneer "So there!" back at them---and HE lights his pipe JUST as we step into the sweet-smelling cellar to savor the must and the wine aromas. Bus leaves at 5:10 and I ask if we can be dropped at Gare St. Jean. No, but driver will return there AFTER office. Very few people tip, so I don't. I spot Rue Mauzia and he lets us off and we get to Europcar at 6:10. All's smooth until I see two-door car: they HAVE no four-door! I fear their trunks won't fit. I figure I paid $129 for rental, and since DAILY rental includes ONE FRANC PER MILE there's no way we'd save on a daily rate. Dick gives in HIS card and license number, Paul doesn't have his. We all nip over to a neighboring bar for a beer. Hot as hell. At 6:55 she says she HAS a larger car, and the TRUNK looks bigger, too. Dick drives at 7:10, too NEAR misses VERY quickly, but he DOES drive well. Get to park near hotel and I'm out to photo GREAT mist-snorting horses on Girondin's fabulous fountain, and back to Rouzic Restaurant for FANCY decor and a NICE lady who give us GOOD wine recommendations for a Cantabrieu white and not so good red. I try grapefruit and anise appetizer for 50F, ridiculous, and FRUIT doesn't mix but the JUICE combo DOES and is GREAT and worth the discovery. My sweetbreads and Paul's sauced sole are paled by Dick's EXCELLENT sole meuniere, maybe the best fish on the trip. Desserts are OK and it's probably just barely a one-star restaurant. We walk into the Video Sex shop to frowzy people and I lounge in doorway and feel VERY old. Some cute guys PASS but no one looks or goes in. Back to hotel and I again have AWFUL trouble with nose during night, soreness in throat, and again wake at 2:30 to shit. GOT to walk AROUND after eating such big meals. Starting to count the days and nights until the end of the trip.

TUESDAY, 8/21/84: 5:35AM dream: never have I remembered such a SPECIFICALLY Actualism dream, and never do I recall having wakened AFTER a dream TO remember it with such a SPECIFIC PHYSICAL ACTION! Things had gone on in the dream BEFORE: a group of VERY advanced males were traveling in some India-like country, and we were being invited to stay in a chain of castles on some peninsula. I pointed to a huge pile rather like the hotel particulaire (huge old black palace) yesterday in Bordeaux and said jokingly, "Only a little better than this, eh?" and the response was SERIOUS, a bit REPROVING, and at the same time assuring that the WORST was BETTER than that. Then "the group" moved around a pool and someone like a mature, muscular Mike Mao combined with Bob Galvin (remembered for his muscles so vividly from a naked dive in a swimming pool) suggested we all dive into the pool and "talk things out," and the next scene he was sitting in a particular FORM at the base of tiled walls that IMPLIED we were sitting around the BOTTOM of a FILLED POOL, and someone who was a combination of Gil Messenger and Henry Garehime (this IS bringing up muscles from the past!) said (whoops, he said in RESPONSE to a Bruce Jaffe-type asking, "Why is it that we can't use the terms human, perceptual body, emotional body, mental body, soul, angelic, and archetypal with people who aren't in the work?" and I said, "Wait, remember Paul and Dick [the names of the two people I was traveling with during this week] haven't even been INITIATED yet," rather cutting off Paul who was about to suggest the SAME idea in a very long-winded way), "What makes you think those terms ARE forbidden" to "Bruce" and "What makes you think they're NOT initiated" to ME. I paused, staring at his handsome face (maybe the face had a touch of the handsome "American-type" that Paul pointed out behind the bar of the Les Noailles Restaurant yesterday), and felt he was asking a QUESTION rather than jeering at me. At that moment, it seems, my left leg was taken by a calf-cramp SO sharply that I AWOKE UTTERING SOUNDS (glad I'm sleeping in a room ALONE---AGAIN the higher?) and feeling almost as if my leg WERE PULLED DOWN TO WAKE ME, to remember dream, to write it at 5:30, which is not a VERY usual "wake from dream to remember it" time. AGAIN (as I have so often recently: my moving to Hotel du Lac, late planes, seeing Avenue de Trunzia, other trip places) I feel that "all's OK" because the HIGHER is orchestrating events. WAIT, NOW I remember what "handsome" DID respond concerning Paul and Dick: "Do you want them back the way they were?" which strongly implied to me "Do you want them to MOVE BACK IN TIME; to before they heard the Jaffe-statement?" WITH the joke that of course that's impossible, but my imaginative mind (in AND out of the dream) leaped to the idea that "they" MIGHT be able to control time---which leads me to write what I'd thought on a train one day: someone living in a universe moving at 99% the speed of light NORTH would find it ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE to "move fast" NORTH. JUST as we find it impossible to "move tomorrow" in time, implying that time IS a dimension in WHICH we move fast---AT THE SPEED OF TIME "forward," letting us "see" the past "behind" but making it ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE to move "forward in time." Now 6AM, still hot, still nose-drippy, still tired, still thirsty. And DID the "higher" lead me to a drink of water, which means I had to unplug the sink, which reminds me I wanted to write that (as an unusual physical action like the leg-cramp) I wanted but FORGOT to write that as I was leaving the bathroom I saw a mosquito again and GRABBED IT FROM THE AIR, something I can SELDOM do, and washed it down the sink and stoppered it---now WRITING it for future reference! More than coincidence? (Word like "Horgown?" un-transcribed) Hypersensitivity? Up and breakfast on chocolate, and he grimaces and says, "Too late." Hm. We pack and pay bill and get stuff into car and drive south and get lost and ask in station and into countryside and the names of chateaux I've never heard of go flashing past and Paul keeps saying he's seen the labels in Japanese stores but most of the wines shipped there are OFF. Dick drives well though slowly, and Paul keeps berating him to drive even slower. The country starts poorly, factories and farms in among the vineyards, but gradually the chateaux improve their looks and the country looks better. I take notes on the map (copy) and we pass lots and then when we DO stop we find that Margaux and Lascombes closed in August! Mouton-Rothschild and Lafite Rothschild photos. Saint-Estephe we sample and it's bad. Get to "end" and we drive back and around Bordeaux south along roads that get more and more colorful. I sort of want to try L'Alouette but am not sure the small roads will be signed for it, and we spot a small restaurant about 1:15 and Dick has just a steak and I have VERY greasy terrine de campagne and good chicken wing and breast. Out and south through MANY roads lined with what I think are elms but Paul thinks are plane trees. Also, he wished for roadside stands offering drinks and that's what we get, along with fruitstands. Lots of pine forests and camping, too. I figure we'll find signs to Eugenie-les-Bains, but Dick keeps talking about this silly friend of his who NEVER asks for directions, so we stop in a gas station and the man says it's just a touch down the road, clearly marked. For a while we climb a hill, leading us to thoughts of lovely vistas, but then I read that it's only 150 meters high. We go from one valley to another and the towns are TINY and I remark that it took some IMAGINATION to put such a RICH place in such a POOR neighborhood. Finally we reach it. Eugenie-les-Bains is just a TINY town (400 inh.) and the gate leads off the end of the main street. We drive down a road compound like a red-clay tennis court and draw up to the entry, at which a driver sits lazily in a Mercedes. We take bags out while Dick parks in the lot. Then we enter to be swept upstairs by an incredibly swish waiter who hovers off the ground while explaining the "Marjolaine est une fleur and Serpolet [flip of entire arm] est une herbe." He presses buttons and floor lamps swell on in an all-white room with gray-green touches, enormous double beds, and thick-quilted chairs, antique dressers, a separate john/bidet room, and a double-sinked bathroom with a low-light and a high-light switch, all around golden globes that flatteringly reflect the tenant. I notice LATER that there are cracks in the old oak beam above the closets (which light automatically on door-opening) that the white paint couldn't seep into, and when I lie low in the tub in the milk-of-magnesia, but blue, foam-bath I can see that the fit below the marble sink-top and above the wooden cabinets isn't perfect, but the cracked shower-head adjustor DOES work the next morning, though the tub-bottom is a BIT too slippery for comfort. When I wake at 3AM the doors and floors creak loudly, but the double door between room and hall, and the wall-length bathroom, assure silence from AROUND, while only sounds overhead (troubles in Paradise) lead one to believe one is SHARING this bliss in a rented hotel rather than OWNING it. Rain and thunder and lightning in the palm and banana-tree leaves is dramatically romantic, as are the lights going off for as much as ten seconds and candles being lit. Dick and I have cocktails Badinguet of champagne, armangnac, and creme de cassis with petit croutons of FABULOUS bacon/cheese and offish fish and notebook-cover-thin "waffles" of flat crepe. We order from menus (of which I buy 2 for 90F!), Dick the expensive degustation, Paul the lesser, me Saumon fumé, Canard, and pear/vervaine. Most dishes are extraordinary, probably even the onion-compote sweetness under fish that Paul says he doesn't like. The HERBS are INCREDIBLE decorating my appetizer: mint and spearmint and anise-leaves and vervaine and succulent watercress like pools of cool green. Spears and twigs and ferns and filigrees of intense garden taste to vary the HIGHLY smoked salmon (as compared to Dick's striking HEAVY-smoked half-lobster). I'd found that Vittel is perfectly flat, Vichy MIDDLING sparkling, Badoit NICE little perky bubbles, but here the Perrier is a FIZZ too ebullient to BEAR! The carpaccio of duck is a great surprise (they served me empty plates when I didn't have courses when they did, and I tasted almost everything, to my delight), being a brick-red paving of raw duck-meat under pepper with a noodle and salad side dish. Lights flicker on and off, candles lit, pretty people (including the VERY short Michel Guerard) come and go (an "uncle" Joel Grey-type and a pretty nephew)(a "male model" and his plain Jane)(a sleeveless boy in white flirting with his new wife). I'm not STUFFED, so can sample all the desserts and many of the mignardises. Finally shuffle off directly to bed, still torn with all the ideas about how it is to "travel rich" even with children! How I sort of "think a lot" when I'm in such places, rather than just ENJOYING them as a treat---rather than wondering how it would feel to be able to afford this day after day and get over-accustomed to it, so that a NEW dish or wine or even CUISINE would have to be invented to please the jaded palate. Lots of people ARE young and pretty, which is even more discouraging than seeing the place filled with blue-haired ladies and bald men who had obviously earned it THEMSELVES. Again the thought of "how does an immortal RATE to come into a very RICH body: if they WANT it, it will PERPETUATE high class differences!"

WEDNESDAY, 8/22/84: Visit Dick, and Paul says he woke in a pool of SHIT last night. ("Of ALL places," Paul said. "We're just going to RUN AWAY from here. I was scrubbing shit from the bed for ten minutes; there's STILL shit EVERYwhere." "Oh," I said, "I'd come in to say that obviously breakfast is served on the terrace, and there's only room and chairs for two. Now I'm GLAD I decided not to have breakfast with you.") Strange dreams again: I was washing lots of glasses and cups like Dennis's narrow, high, goblet-waisted white ceramic cups (there were almost a hundred of them). Then a female servant on a somewhat higher level than I came in to tell me, "Mix some bitters or lemon in soda water, or something that His Majesty likes, and take it to him." I was stunned: here I was given a GREAT responsibility of appealing to the taste of the King, and I thought with excitement that I was becoming closer to him, one day maybe I would even become a FRIEND! There was an ancillary dream concerning listing or covering place names on a map of 15-20 sections, planning a royal trip or dictionary or something like that. I felt that I was in SERVITUDE but LIKED the increasing importance I was attaining. Feel sweaty on waking, take shower and feel over-cold in morning breezes: maybe this is how my "allergies" changed into "a cold." Breakfast on the balcony is a joy. I count it "11 1/2 out of 10." Thick bitter chocolate like finest, melted semisweet chocolate bar, full of tasty grit, warm milk almost equal in volume, and both coarse and refined white sugar. Huge pat of butter, delicious cassis and apricot jams though strangely no PLATE to put bits on. The covered, warmed breadbasket included a four-inch croissant, a 1 1/2-inch brioche, FINELY ground cornbread, two large pieces of the delicious toast from last night (and Paul got a NEWSPAPER that I didn't) that I THINK of putting out for a sparrow that hops down to my railing as if hinting, then flying back to his perch in one tall, swaying elm. Pack and out to walk around the place, finding no slide film in town, seeing old (but useable) slides and teeter totters and a jungle gym IN the jungle beyond the white fence, and we roam pool with nice muscles swimming and back to room to clear out (taking EVERYTHING that's TAKE-ABLE) at 11:50, including MANY of the free books from the lobby. We drive out and get lost a few times and talk about the Democratic Convention and the plight of the American Black. Drive through pleasant countryside on SLOW roads through Aire-sur-l'Adour, Nogaro, Careze, Condom, and Laplume, and get lost in Agen and drive up the lovely hill to old city of Puymirol at 2:55---to find cook's gone home, if we'd only CALLED, etc. Down steep hill to cliff-side swimming pool with a few sexy half-hard teenagers for a vin de Bouzy and steaks and frites, tough but tasty, and out at 4 and down through Asteffort, Fleurance, to Auch at 6:30, park beside hotel and in for large room and out to look at square-towered cathedral and stairs overlooking city and walk pedestrian-street after going to Information office for wines and armagnacs and vegetables and train and plane information for Dick to Paris tomorrow. Back to hotel and shower and Dick's sick and eating only a peach for dinner and Paul and I get greeted as "Monsieur et Madame, parDON, Monsieur" by gracious hostess in large but fading room, and I have three terrines of "the humor of the day" and one is MEAT. [I write Bill Wockenfuss's number on page 162.] Wine merely OK, and my fish isn't great and my "special fruits" turn into STEWED prunes and plums and cherries and IMPOSSIBLE raspberries and I TRY them with the "frozen Armagnac" and that helps ONLY a little. Out at 10:30 to distant lightning majestic over far hills, and some small-kid cruising for Paul and then back to look at other places and suddenly it starts to RAIN, so back to hotel doorway to watch Paul enter from church and Dick return from square raised car-park and we get into bed for a REAL rousing lightning clap and thunderstorm that soaks the carpet through the open hall-door windows. I didn't cough or sniff much during dinner, but it was chilly tonight and I fear I'm coming down with a cold.

THURSDAY, 8/23/84: 8:20AM: Dream of being in charge of a large group of recruits (talk yesterday of authoritarianistic solution to problem of undeveloped Blacks) (though my recruits are white), one of which I want to just bat against the wall to drive some sense into his head. I want to circle them around me and have them VOTE on how they thick I'm doing, but I realize THAT'S silly and try to come up with some way to convince them that this is for THEIR good and we're in it all TOGETHER for the benefit of us all: it needn't be difficult, it can be FUN. Wake at 7:10 and lie till 8:50, up and shave and down to eat, very cute Arnaud Dagoin serving the chocolate at the place he set up for us away from the large group of Americans that were there for dinner last night, too. Paul says the high-voiced, eye-glassed, faggoty desk clerk says the guy serving breakfast is NOT the son. Sad. Good jam but solidified honey. Quick look at SPECTACULAR stalls (looked at WINDOWS last night) and get slides and book of GREAT carvings, and out at 9:25 to race toward Toulouse for Dick's 11:15 plane. Trip said to take 40-60 minutes takes 1 1/2 hours by Paul's super-cautious driving---EVERYONE passes us! I keep looking for D2 turnoff but we ENTER Toulouse and pass Hotel d'Aerogare: finally ask two cops who say, "Take a U-turn, you passed it!" There's a TINY sign (6" x 18") for the Aerogare and lots of winding twists to Air Inter departure, but thankfully it's a small airport and we dash to gate FIRST and THEN he goes back for his ticket, getting through the gate (NOT last) at 11:05. Out to collapse with relief in car. We travel on and off autoroute (signs VERY confusing, or ABSENT!) to Montauban, seeing that the Ingres museum is open at 1:30, and we park and see the Place Nationale and find Gavroche for lunch, very old-style but dating from 1973. Decent lunch from one waitress waiting on 16 tables, and out at 1:40 to Ingres for lots of studies and nice bodies, but not at all his best work, though some of the "school of" is just as sexy. Look at some Bourdelle downstairs, then photo the War Memorial and NOT the unsightly placed Centaur (but the FIRST isn't in Michelin and the second IS) and meet Paul after seeing the church and its associated archeological exhibit. At 1:55 up through Caussade to Cahors, meeting a traffic jam for half an hour outside town. Park outside the Wilson Hotel and Paul gets a room and goes out to check the johns as I go across to old bridge and clamber up high to get good photos, then to the north to see the Barbicane and Tour St. Jean and church between and views over the Lot River. To the Tavern at 6:05 to find Paul had been there, then to cathedral and nave-domes and rather ratty cloister filled with a Nancy Theater group setting up for 9:30 free performance. It starts to rain AGAIN and back to room to shower and change and rest and get to restaurant at 8 to be served first but still slowly. My soup is VERY thick and creamy, like a sauce, but the chicken and mushrooms come in a THIN sauce, like a SOUP. Hardly seeming to be worth one star. Out to watch pretentious kids talking the world off, and look at Paul's johns and back to sleep about 10:40, still snuffling from cold.

FRIDAY, 8/24/84: Wake at 7:40, obviously needing the 9 hours' sleep, and breakfast and drive up 653 in the rain toward Figeac for Peche-Merle. In at 10:40 and look at good exhibit (better be for 25F!) and get into good-musicked movie at 10:50 to SEE how they drew these things 30,000 years ago. Down into cold cave at 11:10, last of 25-maximum group, and GREAT colors and DELICATE stalactites on ceiling and STRAIGHT columns and DEEP holes and GOOD lighting. Buy book and slides to REALLY remember it and out VERY impressed (Paul, too) at 12:25. Continue east through BEAUTIFUL Vallee de Cele, and see "elegant woman" outside La Pescaliere and she's from Louisiana, and we lunch together, they with omelettes, me with 160F MENU of kidneys in good green salad, stew of pleurottes with a fuilletade, then fatty lamb and squash, then St. Hectoire (boring) cheese and small, warm fruit tart. Out at 3 and continue to Figeac, then "straight" (curved mountain roads) down 922 and 122 to Gaillac at 6PM for wine tasting, then to Albi at 6:45 for shabby hotel and I've been coughing and sneezing and HAVE A COLD, and TIRED, so I flop on bed for NAP for an hour. Paul's back at 7:45 to shower, and we eat, but I can't TASTE! His brain rich and my melon mushy and ham SMALL. His beef en daube tough-ish and my quail au feu de bois startlingly bloody at ONE hip but the rest is OK and I'm not very hungry anyway. Out to walk around for a few blocks but my knees feel weak and I'm SO tired I just get back to hotel to sleep at 10:40. Cough a lot and prop myself up with the pillow and finally fall asleep about 11:30.

SATURDAY, 8/25/84: Wake at 3:30 and piss and drink, feeling slightly better, and when I get up at 8 I'm practically CURED. Shower and pack and down to eat 8:55-9:15 in a VERY slow pace (they're serving ROOMS, too, I guess) and out to car in DRIVING rain to decide to AVOID all of Albi and head straight for Beziers, using up spare time for lunch before my 12:25 train. But it keeps on raining and the roads are FULL of ups and downs and curves, and Paul wanted to go through Castenets and Lacoune and small towns and by 11:10 we're just in Bedarieux, so we plan two-star lunch and my getting the 3-9:30 connection, but then Route 909 is straight and bigger and it clears up to spectacular clouds and we zip down to town by 12:05 and fly through it and get to station at 12:15, and Paul thinks to continue with car to Narbonne. I dash for wrong train, see 15-minute line for TGV reservations, and get on 12:25 train, content with two French until THREE LOUD GERMANS get on at Agdi. Off with relief at 1:30 and get AISLE seat on TGV and on at 2 to sit in FULL window and LIAR says HE has it (HE's later displaced by RIGHTFUL owner) and I move to SAFE forward-going seat. Decent quiche and beer for lunch, more citied countryside, nodding some, watching cute Antoine and ugly Christophe and pimply Dominique and two other sons of a single mother. Off at 7 and get CAB to JJ's, Porsche in front. Drink water and tell him about trip and phone six places before L'Aquitaine. Out at 9 and have warm, OK sweetbreads, white Graves, decent sole in curry, and GREAT five sherbets (prune, cassis, pear, strawberry, apricot) and GREAT creamy chocolate ice cream, five strawberries, a cake, and two cakelettes. JJ's hot brugnons OK, he pays 610 because I paid him BACK 1000F. Tired home at 11 to brush teeth and fall asleep SURPRISINGLY quickly, waking for the first time only at 7:15.

SUNDAY, 8/26/84: Dream of pricing hotel rooms: at the "top of the hill" they were $75 (or 75 dinars or 75 francs), but lower down they settled into $31, until I came to one, comfortable but empty, where the owner was willing to fill a room at something like cost to get SOME income and said $21, so I took it. As I was "signing in" some women came in whom I assumed were ALSO checking in, so I handed them a copy of the form I was filling in, and I said, "Sign this." They took out other forms and said, "No, we have to LEAVE these," and I was embarrassed to find they were either WORKING there or were signing OUT. Later I was riding in some sort of land or sea conveyance and the two women in the back made it clear they were the authors of a book of fiction that described how "two molecules of sugar could reflect themselves" (obviously from the theory of "reflected bodies" I read in the out-of-body book yesterday) and I saw two rings slightly DISPLACED, yet transparent and connected (like vague impressions of two DISCS formed together in Peche-Merle), and I said, "You know that the current issue of Scientific American has an ARTICLE that describes research into this 'slippage' that allows growth where not expected"---as I know THEIR book spoke of these crystals as LENSES that produced GREEN growth (Peche-Merle again). THEN I lay there fantasizing how I could mold MY Second Body into a BEAUTIFUL MUSCLE-BUILDER'S body and help satisfy THREE classes of sexual yearning: 1) my OWN, 2) those "sex-hungry ghosts" that wanted nothing but sex in the "new dead" region, and 3) those sex-crazed LIVE men who were lonely and would like company even if SLIGHTLY out of form---and fantasized FEELING MY Second Body hands HELPING First Body cock achieve "untouched spontaneous orgasm," and if ANY of my "thoughts direct energy" to producing results, what a kick THIS would be: combined ESP and sex and OBE and HUMAN! Write this to 8:20. JJ's up about 8:50 and I get all stuff SIZED and stuffed into bag by 10. Shower and eat breakfast and count hours and put dop kit into bag and leave at 10:55, weighing in at 40 lbs. of luggage! Pick up some friend of his mother's at Val de Grace at 11:10 and get to Orly at 11:25 and onto LONG line at counter 7 at 11:30: obviously everyone BELIEVED them when they were told to check in at 10:30! I catch up with this by 11:40. To desk at 12:15 and told "computer can only take smoking and nonsmoking and assign a seat." I say the computer is STUPID and get 27F, obviously the middle of the middle. Good thing I brought something to READ! Catch TOTALLY up-to-date at 12:45, first time in AGES, really concerned about baggageless foreign, dark, young hoods lurking about baggage-laden passengers. I sit outside totally jammed departure gates but departure information for FF771 hasn't gone up YET. I've crammed my suit jacket and camera into plastic clothes bag that I jammed into SHOULDER bag, and I have LITERALLY TWO bulky pieces: duffel bag stuffed totally full and shoulder bag stuffed totally full. I'm thirsty and sweaty and weary ALREADY, thinking how AWFUL this crush-output IS from Orly on Sunday afternoon. GOT to go through customs at 12:50. Through a TOTALLY AWFUL crush of families saying goodbye, Italians pushing from side, everyone pushing from back and other side, people shouting and crying out (thank GOD there are no KIDS), FINALLY PUSH through at 1:10, worst of all, and make for gate 30J to see LONG line waiting! Disgusted at 1:15, starting to get arthritis-cramp in next-little finger on right hand! Get through THAT by 1:35, meanwhile last passenger from Belgrade that was supposed to leave at 12:55 just boards at 1:30! "Last-minute" arrivers expect to see NO line and breeze right through and are rather disconcerted to see that THEY have to wait in line, TOO! Shades of ME! Well, with departure AT LEAST 2:30 and landing at 4, I STILL don't get to Ken and Shellie's! Maybe relief? Hands sore NOW lugging around my "handbags"! At 1:40 decide to read---not so much WORRIED about flight as JUST PLAIN TIRED! At 2PM I jump up to stand to wait for BUS. People leave "line" before we board busses at 2:40, still standing. Sit at 2:45 and leave at 3, reaping benefit of getting on early by FILLING over TWO crowded compartments with my (limit of) 40 lbs.! Write this at 3:10, finally having gotten three tiny glasses of lukewarm but GREAT-tasting water. We start backward at 3:15, taxi and taxi, and finally off at 3:56, saying flight time of 7 1/2 hours; I count to 450 and settle in. "Slow" takeoff and very slow climb, funny feeling of fits and starts though I'm essentially at the PIVOT of the plane. Some slight tremor and I get terrible fears, even trying to tune into my HAPPY self at HOME about 9 hours from now! My bag brought down the cabinet-door just before takeoff and the steward grabbed my bag and put it on the floor in front of me, putting my brown bag up top. At 4:45 I ask for it to write this. Pilot blows into microphone: 3:26 minutes OVER ocean, 7:23 for flight, into NYC 5:25PM. Forecast of clear-air turbulence keeps seat belts fastened. So flight is two hours of France, England, and Cork; 3:26 of ocean; and two hours Nova Scotia, Maine, and New England. AWFUL TWISTS. Kid in front of me screams and screams, woman across crosses herself, another buries her face in her hands as the plane pivots on one wing and the sunbeams from the right windows cascade across the left inside cabin, and I feel worst fears in ages, gripping my seat and glancing wildly from side to side, hardly remembering the actual content of my terrified thoughts. Land at 5:37, taxi to 5:49, and into cab VERY quickly with NO customs trouble at 6:03. Hard to relax; unpack and bed at 10PM.

MONDAY, 8/27/84: Wake at 2:10AM and up at 4:30. Busy day again, and class.
TUESDAY, 8/28/84: Bed at midnight, wake at 5:40, up at 5:55; INTO LIFE AGAIN!
Financial Notes: PRE-spend on 41-day trip (and JJ has paid for Tunis and Paul Bosten has paid for Paris car):
5/22 CIEE deposit                                 $  50.00
6/12  10 rolls of film and developing                64.33
6/15  CIEE remainder                                408.00
6/25  Car rental (Bordeaux)                         139.00
7/2   French railways pass                          345.00
7/10  Les Pres et Sources de Eugenie-les-Bains      196.40
                       Total                      $1202.73
                       Traveler's Checks           3000.00
                       Cash                          69.41
                               TOTAL TAKEN:       $4272.14
                               Brought back:        264.91
                                   TOTAL SPENT:   $4007.23
                  minus 650 francs into dollars      71.24
                                     TOTAL SPENT: $3935.99
   divided by 41 days TRIP COST $96/DAY!
Left with 21# bag and 6# shoulder bag, back with 44# of both!

FRANCE - TUNIS TRIP: JULY 17 - AUGUST 26, 1984

SUMMARY PAGE

TUE,JUL.17: Tower Air flight off at 8:37PM, only 2/3 full. Nice flight.
WED,JUL.18: Meet Paul Bosten at Orly airport at 10AM, Metro to Jean-Jacques'. Change money and metro to Cluny Museum, walk across Seine to see stained glass in Sainte Chapelle, and to the Cathedral of Notre Dame, the treasury (and lots of rude tourists!) and under the plaza for a new museum of old France. Walk via St. Etienne du Mont (1200 AD) and dine with Jean-Jacques at Chez Toutoune.
THU,JUL.19: Rent car, drive to Versailles for the Hall of Mirrors, apartments of the Kings and Queens, the Trianons, and Marie Antoinette's "farm." Dinner at great super-elegant three-star Taillevent with Paul and Jean-Jacques.
FRI,JUL.20: Paul and I drive to Chartres Cathedral and stroll ancient town, then stop in the "flower-town" of Vendome and continue to Tours for an evening.
SAT,JUL.21: Fabulous lunch in garden of La Grande Monarche before seeing Azay- le-Rideau floating on the Indre River. Drive to Langeais and stay in a chateau just outside town, which tonight has a fair with fireworks along the Loire.
SUN,JUL.22: Visit wonderfully furnished Langeais Chateau before touring the gardens at Villandry and continuing to Chenonceaux, its main room forming a bridge over the River Cher. Dinner at the Hotel France in Loches before seeing the chateau and gardens in the walled town on the hilltop above modern Loches.
MON,JUL.23: Revisit church and old Donjon in Loches, then east for a tomb in Montresor and a 15th Century painting in the church of Nouans-les-Fontaines. Blois Chateau is rather a jumble, but Chambord is enormous and dazzlingly elegant, many rooms newly furnished. To Orleans for sightseeing and dinner.
TUE,JUL.24: Wonderful Orleans Cathedral before driving through the country to see the Romanesque churches of Germigny-des-Pres (800 AD) and St-Benoit-sur-Loire (1067 AD), where St. Benedict's relics have been since the 7th Century. Drive north to lunch near Fontainbleau, return the car in Paris, climb the Arc de Triomphe, have Paul's farewell dinner, then a drink atop Tour Montparnasse.
WED,JUL.25: Paul leaves, I return to Cluny Museum, then to Grand Palais for Menil Collection (from Texas!), back for dinner with JJ at Les Marronniers.
THU,JUL.26: To the permanent collection of the Petit Palais, then to the tombs of the Kings and Queens of France at St. Denis. JJ and I to an Art Deco diner.
FRI,JUL.27: Bourdelle Museum and the Catacombs of Paris, then to the Jeu de Paume Museum and my wallet is taken (with $400!) on the metro. JJ drives us to dinner at Linda (an old American friend) and Alain Mercier's apartment.
SAT,JUL.28: Train alone to Bayeux for a tapestry of the Norman Conquest of 1066. See Cathedral and Museum, then train for Rennes for dinner and hotel.
SUN,JUL.29: Wander Old Rennes, Cathedral, Museums, then train to Carnac for prehistoric megaliths of Kermario and Menac (much bigger area than Stonehenge in England). Train to Nantes for beautiful gardens and a great restaurant in which you grill your own steaks and toast cheese for a dish called Raclette.
MON,JUL.30: Museum and Cathedral and Chateau fill a busy morning, then train to Angers for the Chateau containing the incredible Apocalypse tapestries, the remains of Roman frescoes in the Prefecture, and gardens and churches and museums.
TUE,JUL.31: Last few Angers museums, then train to Bourges for the Palais Jacques Coeur and Hotel Lallement and Bourges Cathedral; I'm starting to TIRE!
WED,AUG.1: Gardens and photos today (raining hard yesterday), great lunch in the station at Dijon, and end in Nancy for parks, the Place Stanislas, and dinner.
THU,AUG.2: Lorraine Museum incredible, Beaux Arts Museum mediocre, and great lunch at Rotisserie de Chapon Fin before train to Paris, where Malcolm and Rebekah Groome from New York meet me at JJ's before dinner at Tour D'Argent! View is great, decor is extraordinary, but food isn't quite worth $70 each.
FRI,AUG.3: Rapid train (120 mph) to Nimes for Roman amphitheater and ruins and relics. Wander town and have "local" dinner at serendipitous restaurant-find.
SAT,AUG.4: Archeology Museum and old tower in park completes Nimes, train to Lourdes to watch film, see the church and grotto, watch candlelight procession.
SUN,AUG.5: Train to Pau and fabulous Chateau, train and bus through Pyrenees to Canfranc in Spain (spectacular mountain-peaks), and back to Lourdes procession.
MON,AUG.6: Bus to highest train in Europe: to Lac Artouste at 6000 feet in the Pyrenees, to the Col de Portalet through wild countryside, return to Lourdes.
TUE,AUG.7: Bus to Grotto of Betarram, tour by train and boat and foot through caves. Afternoon tour to Gavernie Falls (1200 feet!) in Pyrenees. Fabulous!
WED,AUG.8: Train to Toulouse, Ax-les-Thermes (picturesque), and bus south to the Principality of Andorra, unfortunately ALL devoted to duty-free shopping!
THU,AUG.9: Leave early through SNOWSTORM in the Pyrenees, back to Toulouse for medieval Augustinian Museum, Natural History Museum, Jacobin cloisters,dinner.
FRI,AUG.10: St. Sernen church, then rapid train to Paris to meet Paul McLean (his brother's charter is 24 hours late!) and good dining with JJ and Paul.
SAT,AUG.11: Plan some of rest of trip with Paul, great lunch at Closerie de Lilas with JJ, Paul, Dick (brother); to Pere Lachaise cemetery, fly to Tunis!
SUN,AUG.12: Tacky Majestic Hotel after midnight, move to Meridien Africa in morning. Bardo Museum for mosaics, Baghdad Restaurant for lunch, I wander souk (ancient Arabic markets), try to get oriented in large confusing Arabic city.
MON,AUG.13: Train to ruins of Carthage, continuing to touristy Side Bou Said for La Pirata lunch, wander town, Dick swims, back to Tunis, dine in L'Orient.
TUE,AUG.14: I try finding ways of touring Tunis, hire taxi for $60 to see aqueduct of Oudna, ruins of Thuburbo Majus, incredible temples and ruins of Dougga.Blistering sun and dusty desert discourage my seeing much more country.
WED,AUG.15: Paul and I share $100 car-rental for day to Kairouan, fourth sacred Arab city after Mecca, Medina, Jerusalem. Grand Mosque from 700 AD, ancient water reservoirs, Mosque of Mohammed's Three Hairs, great lunch at Hotel des Aghlabites. Back exhausted. Nap before souk dinner (with dancers) at M'rabat.
THU,AUG.16: Dick's been sick and wants to see Spain, so Dick and Paul leave for Barcelona. I move to Hotel du Lac, see the market, back to Bardo Museum.
FRI,AUG.17: Bus tour to camel market in Nabuel, what terrific local color! Many other markets, then to a beachfront hotel for lunch, followed by walled town of Hammamet with forts dating back 1000 years. Back to dinner in Tunis.
SAT,AUG.18: Bus to zoo, flight back to Paris and JJ's; I'm getting VERY tired.
SUN,AUG.19: Better after sleep, repack, train to Bordeaux to meet Paul and Dick for walk around old city, have delicious dinner, and see some nightlife.
MON,AUG.20: Wine exhibit and museum, tour the Opera House, Beaux-Arts Museum, and churches. Les Noailles for lunch then a bus tour of Sauterne and Barsac wine-growing districts, seeing Chateau d'Yquem and La Tour Blanche, return for another two-star dinner: Bordeaux is almost as good an eating-city as Paris!
TUE,AUG.21: We three drive rented car into Medoc, seeing Mouton-Rothschild and Lafite Rothschild and Margaux. Great local lunch, then south to Eugenie-les- Bains for one of the best restaurants in France: Michel Guerard's sumptuous spa where he invented nouvelle cuisine and serves lavish traditional dinners. This was the best dinner of the trip and most luxurious hotel we've stayed in.
WED,AUG.22: Luxuriate in breakfast on our balconies, wander the village, then drive north to Puymirol for lunch, then to Auch for gourmet dinner at hotel.
THU,AUG.23: Spectacular carved choir stalls of Auch Cathedral before driving Dick to Toulouse for his plane to Paris for his return to Washington tomorrow. Paul and I drive to Montauban for lunch, Ingres Museum, Bourdelle statues; and north to Cahors, beautiful old town with souvenirs from a picturesque past.
FRI,AUG.24: Drive toward Figeac for Peche-Merle cave, containing cave-drawing about 30,000 years old: mammoths, bison, human hands. Fascinating cave formations, too. Drop in on La Pescaliere and a couple from Louisiana for lunch, continue through Gaillac (for wine) to Albi,a favorite place of Paul's to eat.
SAT,AUG.25: Paul drives me to Beziers, where I catch a rapid train to Paris. Paul will return to Paris September 1 for a week before returning to Tokyo.I fill JJ in on my trip and we eat another great meal in a Parisian restaurant.
SUN,AUG.26: Return to NYC, my Tower Air flight delayed two hours; home at last!

In summary, Tunisia is nice for a week, but there's no reason to go back. Yet France is unendingly exciting and novel, filled with sights and foods and wine. I saw lots of places I wanted, but there are still Chamonix, Annency, Metz, other 2- and 3-star restaurants, and more cathedrals, museums, sights, and countryside.Even with all the "activity," the trip was "relatively cheap" at under $96/day!