The French Connection

Our flight from Prague to Paris on Wizzair (must... not... make... wizzjoke... ) set us back $80 for two people - total; that's with a checked-baggage allowance and all taxes and fees thrown in. The flight departed and left on time, in a new plane (love that great new plane smell).

Leather seats, flawless service, and our cabin attendants had cute accents from Vecses, Hungary-- OK, well maybe not, but they that's where their CEO (pictured) sits at HQ. Touching down in a cute airport 80km north of the French capital, I was overwhelmed with cranky thoughts on why these budget airlines didn't get it together long ago, prior to the 2.5 years I lived in France. Oh well, at least I have all those super useful Air France frequent flyer miles as a memento.

We zipped out of Paris as quickly as possible, sidestepping the nomadic bands of killer poodles (NPR reports that J. Chirac was recently attacked by his poodle. The poodle was coincidentally undergoing treatment for clinical depression...) and stopping for the briefest of moments to consider 4-euro kebabs near Gare de Lyon -- making our way via navette, metro, and SCNF rail to...Grenoble(!). Ahhhh, Grenoble -- "capital" of the French Alps, absolutely required as a blast from the past and besides...we're not in Eastern Europe any more; the only way we can afford a week in a high-cost country is by inviting ourselves to the guest room of a friends top-floor apartment. Oh, and of course by visiting the HP office to enjoy the scrumptious subsidized meals so generously provided by local management. Yes, Virginia, there is wine at lunch in HP France.

Naturally we are hanging in the home of a former HP SPaMster (SPaM = Strategic Planning and Modeling, Slackerboy's job during the off-blog season). Our hosts are Marc Feyhl, his wife Cinzia plus their daughter Ciara. Ciara entertains us speaking 4 languages (German w/Dad, Italian w/Mom, French with peers, English w/us) as well as communicating in the lingua franca of tickle-induced squeals. Those interested in more info on what Brian actually does at HP should visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HP_SPaM

Top Grenoble sights include the fountains of Place Victor Hugo, Prefecture, Place Notre Dame, Batman Kebab, and every pain au chocolate dealer within a 5-mile radius. Notice how in front of the Prefecture (capitalized because it is important) that all five flagpoles sport handsome flags of France. Clearly our French allies have learned much from the Americans about demonstrating their love of freedom, although they should consider adding one more flag immediately. Probably best if it covers the whole of the facade -- otherwise many citizens will no doubt begin questioning the *true* patriotism of Prefecture employees.

As is required of all visitors, Andrea enjoyed a high-speed hiking tour to the top of the Grenoble Bastille (not to be confused with the "real" one in the Marais district in Paris), passing historic fortifications and ancient landmarks, ending with admiration of the views of the town below. Note the cute little boules of the telepherique zooming up to the restaurant of the Bastille, where you can enjoy a delicious lunch in the fresh mountain air, followed by Gauloises and your 17th espresso of the day before you zip back down to your stylish office au centre ville.

From the top of the Bastille we could make out Mont Blanc in the distance; the highest mountain in western Europe at 4,180m. Andrea was tempted to climb the beast, but I warned her croissant might be in short supply at the summit and suggested cannonballs in the city pool as a good alternative.

After the pool we grabbed steak and freedom frites with Greg Delamarre -- an old Club Med pal of mine. Greg and I were stationed at Club Med villages in the Bahamas and Turks and Caicos islands during '87-'88. Greg was born in Chamonix, so of course he has summited Mont Blanc several times... that's him in the Rossignol backpack, and again on the left in the summit photo. Listening to the sport achievements of a good friend over a pastis is way better than climbing some nasty mountain yourself -- you might get a blister.

Our hosts make espresso the vintage Italian way using a stove-top pot. I requested a lesson. Key points:

1. Water level filled only to a level below the safety-valve.

2. Don't pack down the coffee when you fill the filter.

3. Be sure the handle of the pot is not over the burner (it will melt).

4. NEVER use soap to clean the coffee maker. It ruins the taste of the next cup and may give Italians in the room a mild heart attack; just rinse with water.

5. Avoid storing your coffee maker next to a younger, slimmer model - can be detrimental to the pot's self esteem.

Running in the Vercors (think fire trails in a French Alps style) with beautiful views of Grenoble was fun for the whole family - but the pièce de résistance was a trip to the 2nd home/mountain chalet of Claude Laval (another former SPaMster) on Saturday for apertif, dinner, conversation, etc. Note the tennis court just barely visible on the left hand side of the group photo -- suffice to say that it was pretty tough for Claude and his wife to get us to leave, I was ready to move right in.

Other highlights include hanging with even more SPaM homies (Frederic Marie, Danny Berry), watching DVDs on one of our hosts' many viewing stations (two home-theater systems plus one in the kitchen for entertainment while cooking), an overnight trip to Lyon for public art admiration (that's not a mural on the side of that building in the photo) followed by cheese-and-potato gorging, discussing the merits of universal health care with the natives (health care so much better in France and way cheaper than in the US - ask anyone who's lived in both places) and visiting Espace Viking next to the apartment for fitness with the locals.

When heavily muscled French bodybuilders enter a gym they first walk around to shake hands with everyone present, bestowing obligatory kisses on both cheeks of their favorite power-lifting partners. Now that's civilized.

Vive la France!