Climbing Hills & Sending Old Friends Off To New Dimensions...

Before I share my latest adventures, I'd like to celebrate the life of a friend who lived, played, and finally discharged his body in Seattle, WA. Moises (pronounced Moses) was an incredibly daring person who seemed to allow himself the best that life had to offer. He had been battling stomach cancer for some time. It was in remission when I last saw him in June '07. Everything serves a purpose and I believe Moses had an opportunity to spread even more love, encourage even more people to live fully, and say goodbye without remorse knowing he had touched lives. That's a fine parting gift!

Here's to you, my friend!!! No more pain.

Friends ask me about Paris and how I like living here. Truth be told, the city is fantastic! It's beautiful, full of energy, and glowing with thousands of lights. However, it's a bit too far from the ocean. One thing about being in cities is the stars don't shine so brightly. Also, my creative senses are dulled by all the people, constant noise, and filth. There it is... Paris is like all other major cities and after a time, I need the roar of the ocean to remind me of my place in the universe. When I was in NYC, I spent a day on Coney Island, dipped my toes in the sand, and dodged a rainstorm. In Paris, I headed for the beaches of Normandy. Yeah, same region in which Joan D'Arc burned at the stake. Oooo... hope there's no significance there. Also the place where famous Impressionist Claude Monet found inspiration to create masterpieces. Much better... heading for inspiration, not losing my noggin.

Our mark for the journey to Etretat.

The tree marks the way to the famous French cliffs in Etretat.

My friend, François, treated me to a wild weekend of hiking on the Alabaster Coast or Upper Normandy, the region of France famous for natural beauty and permanent remembrances of WWII. The pathways and bunkers built by the Germans are still there. Don't forget the famous booze, Calvados (apple brandy) and Benedictine Liquor, come from there too. François and I spent 3 days hiking the famous trails and valeuses (huge cliff-side hills). You wouldn't believe how high these trails took us! I still can't believe he got me out there wandering through fields, following some strange marks to keep us on track. I was actually pretty good at finding the signs and the sea goat in me keep me climbing steadily toward the final destination, Etretat. The beauty all around us and the dangers of the cliffs were well worth the trek when we were rewarded with the most amazing natural sights.

One of the toughest valeuses and we're not even halfway there!!!

Getting closer...not really!

Unfortunately, the light wasn't cooperating the day we made our longest hike, 24km. When we got close enough to Aval's Door and its arc compared to an elephant dipping its trunk into the sea, we were still some distance from the town of Etretat. Guess panoramic photography would have served better here, but you get the point. All of the rock is flint and F. tried to impress me by rubbing a couple of stones together to make fire. Thank heavens we didn't need one. Poor François.

Aval's Door

More of the elephant...



Mr Cool! Heavy breathing much? Look at that incline!

The fourth and last valeuse almost killed us. The steepness of the climb is barely detectable in the photo because the depth draws your eye to the path we descended first. Oh well... just happy to be at the top. I'll master the camera thing another time. François was trying to act cool at the top, but it was a dead give away that he had suffered a bit too when he didn't immediately light up a cig. After a couple more kilometers it was clear we were nearing the main attractions. Hordes of people appeared on what had been a fairly serene path. In fact, up til now we had only encountered 6 others walking and a couple of mountain bikers who took an alternate route at our last and toughest valeuse. François commented that we were near the parking lot. Sure enough, it was true. All these people had not hiked to Etretat as we had that day and we were feeling pretty smug, not to mention hungry and thirsty. We had our baguette sandwiches, prepared by the Matron of our cute little hotel in Fécamp- our starting point-and water for the trip as well, but it was time for a well deserved beer or two. Down, down, down. We descended into the town amidst the throng of tourists. For some reason it was a busy weekend.

Etretat on a Sunday afternoon.

My hiker look... YIKES, no wonder there were stares!

We didn't dig all the people, so we finished our beers in the pub and headed down the rocky beach where few would tread to have our lunch. I was starving!!! Even though, the sun was shining, it was still a bit nippy especially after walking. I was in awe of the power of nature as I gazed on the rocks; some large others smaller ever giving way to the power of the ocean to transform all things. My spirit had been longing for this moment and I gave myself again to the sea. Do you see me in the water?

The rocks and my spirit in the water...

The weekend had been a treat to get me to the sea again, but it was also a trip for François and I to say farewell to our friend Simone who had just left her body the week prior. She had lived in that frame for 96 years! An amazing feat! When first I met her at Christmas she was still singing bawdy songs and sipping whiskey. I could tell from the lines on her face that she had enjoyed her life. Fécamp was a place Simone had adored. François bought white roses, a card we both signed, and we climbed to the peak of the city to send Simone on her new adventure. I was deeply moved by the gesture and by the overwhelming emotion of the moment. Although I gave him some distance as he hurled the roses into the sea below, I could tell François was silently weeping at the edge of the cliff for a woman who truly appreciated his presence.

François saying goodbye at the cliff's edge.

The wondrous Simone...still watching over us.

It was a minus tide dusk and the most glorious sunset I had seen in awhile. It was the evening of roses and a sunset to remember. One that pointed us to our destination the next day. We looked out over the rocks and water, thinking about the trek we would attempt tomorrow. I let F. know I might be a bit slow on the hills, but I would make it. He wasn't so certain after my struggle on the short climb earlier that day to celebrate Simone, but I felt confident. I knew I would give it my best. We finished the evening in Simone's favorite restaurant: a cute little hide-a-way, family owned bistro with an open hearth all ablaze to cook the meats and fish. It was warm, cozy, and filled with memories of Simone.

The evening of roses, a sunset to remember...

Peace