The Turkish know how to present a breakfast spread! My hotels on two recent trips to both Ankara and in Istanbul had a fresh honeycomb (Petek Balout in Turkish) for breakfast every morning. Slabs of raw, dripping, delicious goodness. Honeycomb was also available in the street markets and in a couple of places where I had dinner. I got to enjoy some pistachio baklava and honeycomb with my morning meal AND while walking down the street. Awesome!
I get asked all the time (friends, colleagues, family, friends of friends, some girl on the interwebs who read a post on this site, Instagram, or Tumblr…) about a visit to Paris. Logistics: where to stay, what should they do or see in 3-5 days, what should they avoid… I have written 8 e-mails about the subject in the last 6 months alone. I have been to Paris maybe 30 times in the last 15 years, no joke, and have been to all of the sites that you can think of. I am not an expert, but I do have some experience to share that might be helpful. I decided to collect all my “wisdom” and opinions in one document and just put it out there. So, here is Matt Talley’s Quick and Dirty Guide to Paris.
I was never a huge Picasso fan. I love a couple of his pieces – mostly his stuff from Paris in the 1904 era and some additional pieces from the Early 1920’s. We have a print of Blue Nude hanging over our bed and I have a small print of El hombre da la Mancha in the upstairs bathroom, but I don’t really enjoy his sculpture of cubist paintings. Who am I though? My opinion about Picasso’s work matters very little to anyone but me.
All that said, the Picasso Museum in Paris is a must see for modern art fans. It is a couple of hours well spent with a few nice sidewalk cafes nearby. It has just reopened after a multi-year re-build (millions over budget) and it was on our planned tour of Paris this time around. After standing a a very long line, Stamps-With-Foot and I walked the galleries and I saw a couple of pieces that I had never seen before that I really enjoyed and I liked the new building itself almost as much as the art. Take a lesson from us: buy your tickets in advance though and the best way to do this is on the museum website. I will say this again: buy.your.tickets.in.advance. If you fail to heed my advice you will stand in line for 1.5-3 hours.
We were recently in Paris and we had 4 hours to kill before our train left for Toulouse. We decided on a visit to the Musse de Orsay. Excuse me while I mount my soapbox: If you go to one museum in Paris, let it be this one. Go early, get the audio tour and plan on a half day. It is full of impressionists: Monet, Manet, Corbiers, Toulouse Letrec, Van Gogh, etc… the sculptures are breathtaking – on pare or better than those found in Florence or in the Vatican. Dismount soapbox.
We concentrated this visit on a couple of painting rooms and the Art Nouveau furnishings collections. I have a serious weakness for fine furniture. It is genetic – both side of the family. I have been to the exhibit before, but I wanted some quality time with it and my wife happily agreed. The downside to any visit is that whenever we go and Stamps-With-Foot sees anything remotely Art Nouveau related, she is almost unbearable for an entire day: “PLEASE build me a bed like that!?” “Can we PLEASE have a door just like that…?” The collection is on the second floor on the left, directly opposite of the Seurat gallery – an artist near to my brother-in-law’s heart.
From the photos below, I WISH I had the time and skill to do the little chest with the linen-fold drawer fronts and the carved mice pulls.
Carpet Sellers: I have purchased rugs and carpets from multi-generational vendors from Istanbul to Marrakesh, Casablanca to Chendu, Ankara to Toulouse. These men, always men, have spoken every conceivable language – especially the numbers – and have seen every bargaining trick known to man.
My wife is an expert haggler and has no qualms about walking away from a market seller and going to the next stall in full view of the first seller. She was in Marrakesh when I bought my first Moroccan Hanbel, but she didn’t do the actual bargaining – she drank the sweet mint tea and watched. It think this left a hole in the part of her soul that needs to haggle (the Burton side of her genetic pool) and she has been twitching to buy a carpet ever sense. I think that she wanted to bargain with the best of the best – to test her mettle and skill. Our recent trip to Istanbul provided her with that opportunity.
Our first carpet stop was at a 5-story establishment late one evening just before dinner near the Blue Mosque. We were handed off to a tall, greasy, smooth-talking seller that had spent lots of time in the US and was the picture of shady used car salesman. Seriously. We let him talk and lie and talk and lie. After about 2 hours and in the middle of what was probably his dinner time, we started negotiating prices. I really wanted a unique 5X7 kilim and Laurel was eye-balling a wool runner. The seller wanted BMW prices for the equivalent a small Honda with a tiny engine. Laurel gave him a final price for both and he unceremoniously ushered us out of the door. I really liked that Kilim and it became another “One that got away.” A shame that it did not go home with us… It will forever be like the hanbel (kilim is the Turkish word) in Essaouira, Morocco that I left folded on the floor there that still calls to me. Every so often my wife will say, “Remember that rug…” and we both get a little sad.
Our second stop was the next night and due to my schedule, we showed up 15 minutes before their scheduled closing time. No worries, three people stayed and tea and carpets and rugs appeared from all corners of the shop. My sweet wife busied herself inspecting a $3000 silk carpet that stayed in the store where it found her. Our seller was another guy that had spent some serious time in the US and although would also have been at home at any New Jersey used car lot, was more polished and a touch more upfront than our dealer the night before.
Laurel went to work on him. We were good-cop bad-cop right away. I was the bored, broke husband upset at my wife’s spending habits and she was the doe-eyed, sweet little girl who couldn’t make up her mind. She is awesome at that. We work the shit out of it and she was so good that she completely had me convinced that she wanted an entirely different rug – crafty that one is.
In the end she got an amazing small wool rug with insane knotting and detail for our bedroom and I got a small wool on wool rug for the living room. Now, we did not get the deal of the century, but we didn’t have to sell blood to finance our taxi ride back to the hotel either. We got a decent price, but make no mistake – the seller made good money.
My hope was that this one experience might satisfy her need to buy Turkish/Persian/Moroccan carpets… Nope. She talked about “the next one” on the taxi ride home. I have helped created a monster.
I spend 1/3 to 1/2 of my work life on the road and away from my wife and hearth: Crappy food, shitty airports, empty hotel rooms, taxis, trains, assigned to the middle seat in the plane, another awful airport, missed connections, terrible coffee, jet-lag, missing luggage, etc, etc, etc… It was all very exciting when I started this 15 or so years ago, but it has gotten very, very old. Most of the time when I travel I get to see the inside of meeting rooms, lounges, and hotels, but every so often I get out to see some local attraction and one of my first reactions is ‘I wish Stamps-With-Foot was here to see this…’ Traveling alone when you love your wife sucks. There is a bright spot every so often though – when my schedule and our finances work out so Stamps-With-Foot can come along.
A couple of weeks ago the stars aligned and we bought a super cheap (somewhat uncomfy) flight to Istanbul for her to spend a couple of days there while I was working. It was fantastic. We got to tour some sites together after work, do a little shopping, make some memories, and neither of us was all by ourselves waiting on the other.
Istanbul was on both of our bucket-lists and we only had a few hours each day to cram stuff in and although it was cold the whole time and pouring rain one day, we made it all work out:
A tour of the Blue Masque
Raw honeycomb every morning with breakfast
Tour of the Hagia Sophia
Late night Carpet shopping
Criss-crossing the Bosphorus – back and forth between Europe and Asia
An accidental trip to the Egyptian Bazaar
The full Grand Bazaar experience – sites, sounds, and lots of haggling
My wife attempted to buy all the scarves in Turkey
Little souvenirs bought for people we love
I ate a TON of pistachio Baklava
Great food was eaten
Serious snuggling in a king-sized bed sans puppies
We had to go to Paris the week of Valentine’s Day for the final meeting to renew my French Work Visa. It was a bit of a Keystone Cops affair, but in the end we are all good and get to live and work (just me for that one. Stamps-With-Foot no get to worky…) in France for another year. Since we we in the city of Love & Light, we stayed over an extra night to celebrate the occasion like champs. We made a last minute reservation for dinner, tried to see a show at the The Folies Bergère (nope), and spent the day storming to and from museums around the city: The Rodin, The newly re-opend Picasso, The Orsay and the amazing History of Paris Museum, which we showed up to 20 minutes before they closed and made a mad dash for the Mucha designed Jewelry store exibit.
It was fantastic. We got to tour some beautiful sites together, view amazing art and furniture, buy some postcards, do a little shopping, make some memories, and hold hands while walking across the Seine at night with Notra Dame lit behind us. Very Romantic. Not many people can say that they ‘Spent Valentine’s day in Paris…’ We both feel really blessed!
A few pictures from the trip:
When we left Seattle for Southern France, I sold my truck and it felt like I lost a hand. I toyed with the idea of bringing mine over, but it would have been impossible to park and the money that I would have had to spend for gas would have been astronomical. My very first vehicle was a truck and I have never not had a truck to drive. There have been other vehicles, but I have always had a pick-up.
I didn’t really plan to do much heavy hauling during our time in Toulouse, so we got a 5-door diesel Suzuki Swift and I added a roof rack – just in case I needed to road trip with a bike or grab the odd 2X4 at the lumber yard… Reality is often brighter and more interesting than the initial plan. We have abused our little Suzuki. I have treated it like a farm hauler and overloaded it again and again. The rack has a 100 pound weight limit, yeah about that… In my own experience, 250 pounds has ridden just fine. I still miss my truck, but we are making due.
All the things I have hauled in or on the car that have been questionable:
400 pound wood lathe
The cut rounds from 4 trees (to date)
A 200 pound 7′ X 6′ x 2′ Wardrobe
3 large work benches
9 bookshelves
~1500 books in boxes
10+ sheets of plywood
Enough lumber to build a garden shed
2 beds
9 rolled carpets
A buffet hutch
A garden table, 2 side tables, 8 chairs, and a umbrella
250 pounds of gravel for lathe ballast
A huge antique armoire
300 pounds of wet lumber
A Canoe that was wider than the roof
5 people and all their crap
Every time I come back to the US for work or vacation, I go back to France with maxed-out checked luggage. Not smuggling contraband or anything, just comfort food, hand tools, and stuff we cant get there. I have only been stopped at customs once and it was an hour long “what is this” game. All sorts of fun explaining what an 8TPI lathe chuck was….
If customs decides to stop me this time they will find the following in my 2 huge duffle bags:
1 thermarest mattress pad
4 bags of Vashon Roasters Coffee
2 Starbucks mugs from home
1 giant 5/8″ bowl gouge (lathe chisel)
3 sets of Queen sheets
1 end grain lathe chisel tool
New snowboard boots.
Found pocket knife
2 jars of Coconut oil
Multi Vitamins
1 ziplock bag full of shelled pecans from my aunt.
Bottle of Tums
Christmas presents from my mom for my wife
A new hat (Heisenburg-ish and green)
17mm combo wrench and 17mm socket
2 sets of workshop/garage plans
Specialty hardware from Woodcraft
A second notebook computer
4 months worth of mail
7 books
End grain specific lathe chisel
75mm bowl jaws (for previously mentioned lathe chuck)
I love wearing overalls , a leather apron, and work boots in the wood-shop. During the summer, I spend my time at home in flip-flips and t-shirts, but I do clean up fairly well. My J-O-B requires me to spend a good deal of time in front of customers and I have to look good: be well dressed, properly groomed, and present appropriately. Along those lines, there are a couple of things that I would like to add to my work-related accouterments:
A Moore & Giles Portfolio
Porsche Design TecFlex Fountain Pen (F or EF Nib)
A few pairs of two-tone wing-tip oxfords: brown and tan, tan and green, brown and black, etc…
Brooks Brothers grey or subtle pattern sport coat – slim cut.
Filson Medium Travel bag.
Rimowa Carry-on
A fine set of Cuff-links
Cobalt blue, Tiffany blue, purple, orange solid and patterned silk ties.
So, I have this buddy who is by nature and temperament a hard-man. Sweetest guy in the world, super humble, would give you his last dollar in the pocket, the shirt off his back – salt of the earth sort of a guy. Seriously. This same friend is also physically and mentally toughest person I have ever personally met. I have only seen him mad twice and thankfully neither time was at me. I was very happy about that. Flood is one of those Old Testament, walked forty years in the desert and killed and army with a mule jaw bone sort of guy. Really, really.
All my climbing buddies and I TRY to get together once a year and spend a week in the mountains. One year (maybe 2009), Mark couldn’t come and it was the most relaxed trip ever – soft beds, video games and *GASP* a rest day! We all talked about how Flood would have hated the wasted time when he could have been wedged into some shitty, moss filled crevice, 40 feet above a manky piece of protection, giggling with glee. At the time, “Chuck Norris” jokes were just getting popular and while sitting at a bar one evening we started telling Mark Flood true-isms. At one point these two girls who had over heard us, came over and asked with willful intent if Mark was at the bar or in town. Dr. G looks them up and down and slyly says, “Nah baby, your would KNOW if HE were here…” They got all giddy. True story.
Anyway, the list below is some of what came out of that evening and 10 or so follow-up e-mails after the trip.
Mark Flood uses Tabasco Sauce for eye drops.
As a child Mark Flood ate transformer toys in vehicle mode and shat them out transformed into a robot.
Mark Flood’s penis is so big that it has a penis of its own and it is still bigger than yours.
… doesn’t open no can of whoopass. He makes his own with farm-fresh eggs and dehydrated onions.
… can get Blackjack with just one card.
… once screwed up his knee, purely for the sake of winning the Special Olympics.
… can sneeze with his eyes open
… once fucked a sheep ‘till it was a sweater
… once took a lead-fall so big that his clothes burned off on re-entry
… uses a rattlesnake as a condom
Mark Flood’s penis is so TALL it has never been mounted without the use of oxygen.
… eats live Billy-goats as a light mountain snack.
… started a pirate mutiny in the south china sea.
… is hung like a woolly mammoth.
… keeps live cobras in his sock drawer.
… once snorted cocaine off Jenna bush’s titties in the oval office and made W watch.
… has a +92 Ape index.
… secretes Serin gas from his rectum.
…once used a spork as an ice axe and tire chains as crampons.
… whittled his own skis.
… can write in beautiful Victorian script cursive ambidextrously with his feet.
… once killed and gutted a grizzly bear with toenail clippers to have a warm place to sleep
… carries a pack so heavy he can rightfully call Atlas himself a pussy.
… always has sex on the first date. Always.
… is capable of lactation.
… once took a bubble bath with Rosie O’Donnell and made her straight.
The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse actually live in Mark Flood’s nutsack
Mark Flood makes his women wear gaiters and crampons to bed.
… can eat a hammer and poop nails.
Mark flood can climb any 14er using only echo location
Mark flood can play “the devil went down to Georgia” better than Charlie Daniels AND the Devil using a violins
strung with his pubic hair.
Mark flood pulled so hard on Castle Rock in Eldorado Canyon that the climb is now 12.3 feet shorter.
… makes MacGyver look like Steve Erkel.
… does not procreate – he breeds…
… raped Blackbeard for using Argh! in an incorrect grammatical supposition.
… once climbed to heaven and he did it all in one linked pitch.
Mark Flood once stated “The double rope system is for newbie’s. I only climb using a sextuple rope system!”
… can piss directly into gale force winds and not get a drop on himself.
Mark Flood has to live in the Midwest because his gravitational field screws up the tides.
… felt that the ‘Jolly Mark” was egotistical, so he let some fruity guy named Roger take the credit.
… is no longer allowed to climb at Indian Creek because his hand jams have widened all the cracks.
… simply decided to start producing spider silk from his anus so he no longer had to use ropes.
… only dates climbers because only they have the necessary grip strength to give him a hand-job.
… is not afraid to climb any route but all climbing routes are afraid that Mark will climb them.
… once gave a new meaning to peak enchainment when he added Mt Elbrus, Long’s and Pikes to his key chain.
… feet are sooo big he doesn’t need snowshoes.
Mark Floods’ dick is so big that the AAC listed an all female ascent the latest American Alpine Journal
… can literally talk to snakes
… is so energetic that routes get tired of HIM.
… climbed every peak west of the Mississippi in two days with only a Mars Bar, the September 1980 issue of Playboy, an ice axe, 1 box of Pop-Tarts, and a can of tuna.
… masturbates to pictures of used climbing gear and Alpenglow.
We spent Christmas at a friends’ parent’s house near Pau (pronounced “Po”), France. It is in the middle of the Jurançon wine region and near one of the historical centers for mountain pasture fed sheep and goat cheese. Our hosts were incredible and the amount of food we consumed was staggering! Below is a semi complete list of the things that we enjoyed:
Aged local Brebis (sheep) cheese
Steak grilled in the home’s fireplace
Prosciutto
Coffee
Herbal tea
Cured ham
Roasted Rabbit
Strawberry preserves
Roasted potatoes
Rice pilaf
Pate
Christmas cake
Croissant with honey
Baguettes
Wild Boar
Foie gras
pumpkin soup
3 types of Jurançon wine
Saucisson
Aged Pyrenees goat cheese
Boudin
Swiss and German chocolate
Dutch Stroopwafel
Bottle after bottle of amazing 2008 and 2006 Bordeaux wine
Just after New Years 2015, two friends and I drove south from Toulouse to the Principality of Andorra to spend three days skiing and boarding in the mountain passes there. It is like the whole country turns into a Ski basecamp for the winter – there were lifts everywhere, the back-country is patrolled, the apres-piste activities available swing from shopping for Lux goods, to a tame evening in front of a fire, to hedonism at the Irish corner in Pas de la Casa. The groomed slopes were really well maintained and the lifts were great.
I took it easy on the first day, being a grandpa and all, but I got some really good riding in: a few small jumps, a couple of really fast descents, and one aerial 360 just to prove I still could. After the 1st day of riding, I noticed that my boot soles were de-laminating, but figured they would be good for the rest of the weekend… Nope. They came apart as I was walking to the 1st lift the next day. Dammit. I had to go and rent boots for the rest of the trip. The only ones available were either 1 size too small or 3 sizes too big. I crammed my toes in the little ones and didn’t lace them too tight. All was good until about an hour later when I busted the toe-strap on my left binding – DAMMIT!! I made a MacGyver worthy repair that lasted the rest of the weekend, but I will need to get a new strap before I ride again in February.
The second day it was on and I hopped on a few technical routes, popped over jumps and bumps, bombed down hills, and threw snow with my board edges like a champ. We had an amazing dinner at a local place that was a converted mountain house/barn where they cooked all our food over hot wood coals: a perfect end to a day of fine boarding!
All told, I ended the trip with broken boots, a wonky binding, and a big smile! I was so glad to be on my board again and if I may say so myself, not too shabby for an old-guy! We ended the trip with no serious injuries and I only had a single bruise – on my butt. A kid went down hard directly in front of me at the foot of a lift – I had to either bail ass first or hit him and I chose the former.
Side Note:
Stamps-With-Foot stayed home and snuggled the puppies as sitting on a cold ski-lift is her own personal version of Hell, but she said the pictures of us were pretty. I am grateful to have a wife that doesn’t fuss when I go outside and play. 🙂
I try really hard to keep things on DRIVENOUTSIDE positive, but I must now take a moment to ascend my soapbox and bitch:
I spend 1/3 to 1/2 of my work life on the road. I have been to airports all over the world: third world countries, Eastern Europe, Central America, tiny American towns, western China, etc… and the one I hate to fly through the most is CDG in Paris. Seriously. I have been stuck in Terminal 2E for 6 hours today with a grumpy, jet-lagged wife and had to deal with super un-helpful staff. Not feeling the love right now.
I have never met a single soul that likes to fly through that particular Hell airport, even my colleagues from France would rather connect through Amsterdam, Madrid, or Brussels. Really, it has been the topic of at least 3 discussions since I have lived in France and two of them were not anger induced or alcohol fueled.
Why? Well, glad you asked… Here is my $0.02 worth: Lack of forethought in the layout of the international arrival area, making it hard for through travelers to negotiate from gate to gate, poor signage and limited announcements (even in French) concerning last minute gate changes. Lots of last minute gate changes! Chronically understaffed security and customs checkpoints. Why should they have more than one border gaurd asigned first thing on a MOnday morning? So what if a Trans-Atlantic flights come in at the same time. Getting on a plane is a mob experience where no form of order is either expected or imposed. You need a spell book to find the public restroom in some terminals, and last but not least, every single time I have gone through CDG in the last 12 years, something in my checked luggage has either gone missing, gets lost, or is damaged! Seriously, that is not an exaggeration.
You need examples? OK: in 2004 I had a bag left out on the Tarmac, in the rain. It was completely soaked all the way through and dripping when it met me at baggage claim. In 2008, 2 bags of Cheetos were taken from my wife’s suitcase, in 2010 my bag was opened for inspection and mixed with someone else’s. Never got one shoe back. My bags were lost in January of 2014 and I didn’t see them for 3 days. You can bike from Paris to Toulouse in three days… I lost 3 dress shirts 6 months later while in transit to Hamburg. In 2013 I had a suitcase that came out on the baggage belt with shrink wrap barely holding it in one pile. It looked like it had been sucked into the engine of a plane. I was informed that Air France “Is not liable for normal wear and tear…” and my bags condition was normal for CDG. Really.
Ok, done venting. Dismounting my soapbox now…
Below is a link to a PDF document that contains The VERY little I know about Moroccan carpets and how to buy them in Morocco. I put it together of multiple trips and years and thought I would share with the general public on the interwebs. Disclaimer: This work is not 100% mine. I have kludged together some of the knowledge and wisdom of others that has helped me in the search for my own carpets and have added my own thoughts, ideas, and text here & there.
I will say that the statements contained are not purely academic: I have perused Medinas and souks in Marrakesh, Fez, Casablanca, Essaouira, Rabat, Dubai, Ankara, and Abu Dhabi. I have purchased rugs from multi-generational vendors who spoke every conceivable language – especially the numbers – and who have seen every bargaining trick known to man. You have not lived a full life until you have seen a mustached Moroccan man and a tiny Chinese lady in serious heated discussion over the quoted price of Beni-Mguild, wildly gesturing with their hands while barking in Mandarin at each other.
I have also walked away from deals after bargaining for a couple of hours. There is a hanbel (kilim is the Turkish word) in Essaouira that I left folded on the floor there that still calls to me. Every so often my wife will say, “Remember that rug…” and we both get a little sad. I do not claim that I am the world’s greatest negotiator or that I have never been taken advantage of by a market seller – I have.
If there is someone out there reading this that feels my info – any of it – is wrong or misleading, write me, tell me what I need to know/change. I will update this doc and list them as a primary source in an endnote/footnote.
Below are the things that I find are present for me today:
1. More time with my children and my mom.
2. I want to stick to my diet and workout schedule and not fall off the wagon and back into the cookie/café Mocha/lethargic/big-belly/back-hurting abyss.
3. For my wife to finish some long ago promised sewing tasks for me – I would really like those shorts, pants, and shirts back…
4. a Fine large set (only 2) of Easy Wood carbide insert lathe chisels for all the fall and winter bowl work I have planned
5. For my proper car camping/glamping kitchen set up to be finished – it is about 1/2 the way done and sitting in the GROP.
6. A leisurely trip to Rome and Venice with my wife – no puppies, no family, no friends – just us for a week or so.
7. For my Joiners workbench to be done and set up and in use. I am only about 1/3 of the way done and only have 8 of the 17 sections of the top laminated up.
8. A few books: Franklin Bio by Wood, Paris Between the Wars 1919-1939: Art, Life & Culture; Ernest Hemmingway bio and a two books of his letters (1&2), A signed hardbound copy of Campaign Furniture
Theodore Roosevelt: a Strenuous Life, The Anarchist’s Tool Chest etc…
9. A whole Metric crap-ton (my favorite unit of measure) of wooden wine crates for a couple of open projects at home.
10. To give Heifer International a menagerie of animals for Christmas – That is my charity goal for the year. We give monthly, but I would like to be able to do more this year.
11. For our 2015 French Visas to be finished so we can get on with plans for next year.
As mentioned in a previous post, my J-O-B sent me to Casablanca, Morocco recently for a few days. I had a free afternoon the day I flew in, so I headed right to the “New” Medina Market (the Old Medina is where the locals shop for fruit, fish, scarves, socks, underwear, etc…). I picked up a few things for gifts and spent almost 4 hours with a carpet merchant bargaining for two carpets and drinking glass after glass of hot, sweet, Moroccan mint tea. I can say that after haggling with carpet sellers in Marrakesh, that the carpet soul in Casablanca seemed almost laid back. The were no histrionics and the opening price did not equal the price of my first vehicle. I was pleasantly surprised.
Things turned out really well and I got a decent price for the carpets – 1/5 of what they go for in the US and half of the European mainland retail price. In addition to bringing back a horrendous cold, I also brought back a large red leather pouf and 1 square meter of Zellige tile for my sweet wife – she danced a little when I pulled them out of my bag. I got the tile at a giant outdoor bizarre that was full of used and new plumbing fixtures, tile, lumber, tools, doors, etc… It was like 2 Home Depots , a Lowes, and 10 architectural salvage places set up all their wares under tents in a football stadium parking lot. It was vast and cramped and noisy and awesome. I wanted to spend hours there, but it was getting dark and this pale gent doesn’t plan to get caught in a dark ally in the middle of a foreign bizarre after sundown, no sir. I got my tile and zipped away on the back of a borrowed scooter, piloted by a Moroccan carpet seller with a who had a schedule to keep – which is a whole other tale in-itself!
On the day before I left town, I had had a couple of hours and I went back to the Medina and bargained for a few cushions and pillow covers for my wife. Same thing – very laid back. There was nowhere near the selection, but it was worth it not to be constantly harassed and pawed at by sellers trying to drag me into the shop for a “special price just for me…”
Later this month, my J-O-B is sending me to Morocco for 3 days/4-nights. I haven’t been there since Laurel and I went in 2008 for our anniversary. That was a relaxing trip: Palatial riad, going out, romantic dinners, the beach, camels, etc… This trip will be a good bit different: Budget hotel, meeting after meeting all day, e-mails/drawings/spreadsheets at night, hasty meals, and early flights. I do get a free Sunday afternoon the day I fly into Casablanca, so I am headed right to the old Medina Market and plan to do a little gift shopping for my wife and all the birthdays coming up.
We sort of have a Moroccan/Sherlock/Boho thing going for our home deco and I am going to take the opportunity to pick up a few small things for the house while there this time:
For my Birthday – the 12th anniversary of my 29th year – my sweet wife and I went on a long weekend to Porto. I almost ruined our trip before it began by leaving my passport in my work briefcase – I flew in late from London the night before and that is my only thread of an excuse. A friend’s wife raced to our place and the made the hour and 20 minute drive to the airport in an hour and five. I was the last one on the plane after busting through the closing security gate like I was in a movie. Trip rescued.
It poured on us the first couple of days, so there was lots of sightseeing in churches and port wine tasting rooms. We managed seven in total including the vineyards… When the sun did come out, we found the city to be stunning: Lots of tile, amazing old buildings, picturesque river, etc…
Speaking of churches, we visited the Baroque masterpiece of Sao Francisco Church. Holy Jiminy-Jesus! The gilded wood carving is breathtaking. We could have sat there for hours. Stunning.
Concerning the tastings, we visited 4 of the Porto houses in the Gaia part of the City: Taylor’s, Ramos Pinto, Ferreira, and a local gallery/small scale producer – where Stamps-With-Foot MADE me buy a port wine related board game. She made me. We liked the port at Ramos Pinto the best for everyday consumption and we bought our friend’s wife/passport logistician a fine bottle of 20 year old that was silky smooth. At Taylor’s we/I splurged on a single glass of their 40 year old. Delicious!
For our last full day and on my actual birthday, we took a tour of the Douro Valley and stopped by two vineyards and a local mom and pop shop that made their own that was delectable. Our favorite vineyard and tour was the one at the Quinta do Tedo. Nice place, great tour, good port at a great price. In between the guzzling of the wine, we found the scenery to be breathtaking and Stamps-With-Foot and I decided we could live in a place like the Douro.
I may have mentioned before that I have a certain unnatural attraction to desks – a lust if you will. We have five desks in our house in France home, three in our Seattle house, and I still NEED more. I love me a Victorian Wooten, a Danish cabinet-desk will cause me to pant, fire screen panel desks start me to sweat, roll-tops make me smile, and the smooth curves of an Art Nouveau model will make me twitch.
Whenever I travel or go to a museum or furniture shop, I have a wandering eye for desk-like furniture – I almost feel like I am cheating on my desks at home. It happened again recently, when I went to Revel, France on a road trip with my son and Father-in-law. When we got home and started looking at the pictures, I realized that more then half were of desks, desk drawers, the corner joint of a desk, image after image of drop leafs… I with we had more rooms…
Here are a few pictures from that trip:
As I have mentioned in previous posts, I have been on a 5-board bench kick this year. I have built five so far and two more are in the works. I am also putting together at least three 6-board benches in the next 6-8 months, which share similar design and construction. Both items are classified as “Furniture of Necessity” or “Early Rustic” if you go shopping for one or the other. The patterns for them are roughly the same now are they were 2000 years ago and they lend themselves to hand-tool only construction.
I am not a Luddite that eschews a table saw, not in the least. I just don’t have one in France and am not buying one (If someone dropped off a new 10” cabinet saw and a compound sliding miter saw at my door, I guarantee that I could shoe-horn them nicely into the GROP). It has taken me almost 10 months to decide that I need a plug-in circle saw, but only to speed up the breakdown of thick planks and beams – I will be shopping at a pawnshop in the city though. I am just not spending the money to set up a new cabinet shop when we are leaving in a couple of years. Tools here are CRAZY expensive and most of the stuff available to non-professionals is crap. A Ridged-type contractors saw (bottom rung of what I consider acceptable for cabinet work) here with a real fence and a solid top will set you back the equivalent of $1100.00. Same saw at any Home Depot in the USA is about $500.00. A 7.25” Makita circle saw is the equivalent of $230.00 and an 18vt Ryobi drill with two batteries? $195.00!
Anyway, back to benches and chests… While in Paris last month we visited a plethora of museums and I kept finding little nuggets in the paintings, tapestries, and stained glass: top edge profiles, proportions, leg cutouts, etc… I am going to incorporate a couple of the details into my planed remaining work this year and next – just because I can. Below are a few of those details. They were for sure more to see, but not all museums allow pictures in their halls.
In about 3 weeks I will celebrate the 13th anniversary of my 29th birthday and the current plan is to spend the weekend in Porto, Portugal. While there, I want cake (moist yellow cake with chocolate butter-cream frosting), snuggling, a nice glass or 6 of Port, laughter, and a few well thought out gifts. I will NOT work that day – just not going to happen – and I plan to pamper myself with a haircut and a strait-razor shave if it can be found. I might buy some new wingtips, just ’cause they make me happy. Cookies will be eaten and beef will be consumed in quantity.
Below is my birthday wish list – mostly for my wife and children, but feel free to peruse and suggest.
I already have a bunch of crap, so my first request is that you give to a worthy cause.
Heifer International: Bees, Goats, Chickens, Llama, the whole Ark… 🙂
Doctors Without Borders/MSF
Diabetes Research
If you DO want to get me a little token of your love and appreciation:
Books:
Anything from my Amazon wish list
A signed hardbound copy of Campaign Furniture
Theodore Roosevelt: a Strenous Life
I would like a signed copy of Chris Schwartz’s The Anarchist’s Tool Chest
Founding Foodies
A volume on handplanes or a tome on traditional woodworking
Twilight at Monticello
A Lost Art Press volume of The Essential Woodworker
James Krenov’s Cabinet Maker’s Notebook
Two Classic books on Shaker Furniture: here and here.
Stuff:
Don Julio Anejo Tequila
F3 Architect’s Wallet
Porsche Design TecFlex Fountain Pen (F Nib)
New bad-ass cufflinks or these or these…
A Global Chef’s knife, bread knife, and ceramic sharpener
Classic Cartoon DVDs (Bugs, Tom&Jerry, Loony Toons, Road Runner, etc…)
Stainless Omega Seamaster 007 or Planet Ocean with inscription
A fantastic sport coat
Tools:
A pair of 1/2 round molding planes
A Pair of Snipe Bill molding planes
A set of Mortise Chisels
Update:
In addition to a fine long weekend in Porto, my wife gave me a cute desert cookbook, awesome mustache cuff-links, and a watch that I have been asking for. My Father-in-law sent me the funds to buy a nice bottle of port. My Mom hooked me up with an apron for BBQing and the thoughtful gift of Heifer bees. Bottles of good wine and great beer from friends here in France and I got cards and online wishes galore. It all made me very happy. Thank you everyone very, very much!
Regardless of what your personal belief structure might look like, it is hard to see some things that were created by the hands of men and women and not wonder if there is something greater than ourselves out there. The Musee d’Orsay is full of those objects: from sculpture to paintings to carvings to furniture. It is not just the Orsay though – it is the entire city of Paris. Buildings, museums, subway stations, churches, stained glass, public art, gravestones in Père Lachaise, even the trash cans on the street corners.
Below are pictures from a recent visit to The Orsay, The Cluny (see previouse Carving post), St. Eustice Church, and Notre Dame, with shots from various walks through the city.
The Ruminator and I had a big time this summer! It was full of firsts for him. A truncated list of firsts for him are:
Transatlantic Flight, time to France, real Castle, walled city, a basilica, cathedral, trip to Paris, taxi ride, subway ride, renting a bike, trip to a vineyard, picnic of goat cheese, bread and saucisson, seeing fields of sunflowers, Mass, walk in a vineyard, jousting tournament…. The list goes on.
The pictures below are snippets from out time together on various roadtrips this summer.
A summertime fixture for my son’s summer visits has always been some time outside. We have canoed, hiked, ridden bikes across international borders, camped, road-tripped, National/State Park hopped, etc… This year was no different except we did those things in France.
We canoed along the Canal du Garone in my 2014 Father’s Day present – a Big green 3-person canoe. The Ruminator learned about the magic of portaging and that stinging nettles should not exist on this earth. We hiked into the Ariège Pyrenees, climbing 5900+ feet in 4.5 hours. That night we slept in an high alpine Refuge (his first), ate great food, and saw the most amazing mountain waterfalls, wildflowers, streams, and lakes. There were high green fields dotted with cows, sheep and goats before we walked above the tree-line and blue ice floating in the deep alpine lake at the base of the Refuge. It is a memory that I will carry with me for the rest of my days!
There was bike riding, lawn mowing (had to throw that in!!), soccer, long walks and one attempted swim session. He got turned away because he showed up with swim trunks to the pool and here in France you have to wear Speedos – no really, I swear. We also visited one of the prehistoric parks in the area (there are three?!) and got to throw spears at targets as part of one of the interactive displays. There were deer and bison 3D archery targets out in the field along with paper animal targets and we only learned that the 3D ones were just to look at and not to aim at. This information only came after one of my spears sailed over the bison’s neck, clearing it by 2 inches from 50 yards away. I got a stern warning…
Being outside with my kids is one of my true pleasures in this life (My daughter HATES backpacking and sleeping on the ground and is more of an RV girl). I look forward to many more years of it and the inclusion of more children and grand children.
As we have traveled a bit here in France, I have drug my wife, son, in-laws, and friends to dusty museums and shops to see some amazing examples of traditional French woodworking tools and machines. These bits of pre-electric woodworking gems have been covered in beasage, wabi-sabi and love. Some were almost pristine, looking like there were used the day before and a few are shadows of their former-selves, but beautiful none the less. There are lathes, marqueterie saws, Saw-tooth sets, sharpening stones, carts, presses, saws, etc…
One of the most prominent things I noticed were all the different mechanisms for making the different lathes go ’round: peddles, treadles, hand operated flywheels, waterwheels, and bows.
Enjoy
In the 7 months I have lived in France, I have seen some amazing examples of traditional French carpenters’ work benches. They are full of tool marks, tool trays, attachments, vices, dog-holes, studded plane stops, nicks gouges patches, etc… Some are almost pristine, some covered in 100+ years of marqueterie glue, and some rotted – full of worm holes. One some you will see the standard “French” leg vice and others have a parallel top vise – also don’t know what to call it – is a southern French/Basque sort of thing. I asked a local “old guy” here and he said was a “thing” here. That is the direct translation 🙂
Almost all the benches I see here are slab benches and a number are slab benched with a thick dadoed plank bolted to the front edge to provide square dog holes.
As a man who appreciates such things, as a joiner in the process of building my own bench, and as a tourist in a foreign land I have been busy with my camera. 🙂 Below is a data-dump of some of the better benches and details that I have seen so far. I will update as I see more in the “wild.”
Side note: I bought a couple and am having the gassed (wood worms are serious here!) and will be bringing them back to the US when we rotate back in a couple of years – one for the house and one for the shop (tall oak slab for dovetail cutting) and IF there is any room in the container I may bring back a couple more – just because my wife hasn’t said no :-).
My sweet daughter, LOL, is going to have a baby girl soon. I am super-pleased for her and her partner and am excited to meet my first grandchild. I am SURE that she will be beautiful. We are flying in for the birth and to see her and the baby for a while afterward. Am am getting all giddy and excited. This declaration, however, means that I am now officially old and reminds me that my time on this earth is not forever and that there is a debt that I, like all men, must pay. I am going so start shopping for leisure suits, high waist-ed pants and a sweet walker – red and chrome.
With my J-O-B and all that we have going on here in France (work, travel, guests, work, work…) there is NO WAY that I can have a proper garden. To scratch my farming itch, I have been medium obsessive over the grass (I have not found the desire to begin a campaign of slaughter for the dandelions as yet) and have made our outside living space as nice a possible. The prior occupants of our house planted rosemary, sage, lavender (we have 5 different bee types on it right now), a couple of fruit trees and some bulbs that we are nursing a little the the color and life help with my primal need to make stuff grow.
We eat outside in the evenings a couple nights a week and I bought a sweet masonry grill from an English couple that were moving to Spain. The thing weighed a ton, but it works and looks great. In addition to grilling on weekend afternoons, I REALLY like to have my coffee in the shade of the porch out back if my schedule allows and the hammock has an assign spot in the shade. We see our back yard here as more of an outdoor room and have furnished it with a teak table set and the Adirondack lawn furniture that I made for Stamps-With-Foot a couple of years ago – she insisted we bring it from Seattle 🙂
We took a weekend road trip down to a small village near the Spanish border and stayed in a friend’s Aunt and Uncle’s Gite (sort of a B&B). Brodie came along and was fed all sort of yummies and got to pee on lots of new stuff – a very high priority on his list… We had a blast there and made side trips to the beach in Collioure on the French Mediterranean (VERY COOL), went to a local cherry harvest festival, and had many fine meals! Our friend’s aunt even made Stamps-With-Foot chouquettes, a local pastry specialty, for breakfast.
