6/10/14. The post where we can't possibly be any more relaxed.

6/10/14:  after my post last night, we had the nutty idea to walk back into the village for dessert and a nightcap.  I'm glad we did it - it was fun to see the village nightlife.  And after the hike back up to our apartment, we slept quite well.

We woke up pretty early this morning to see not one, but two cruise ships in the harbor.  We quickly dressed and walked down to have breakfast and watch the village get ready for the swarm of tourists.  It's amazing how quickly we have become possessive of "our" village.  No Disney cruises today - a huge Royal Caribbean ship and a smaller Ibero ship (a Spanish cruise line).  We watched everyone disembark while we ate our pain chocolat and yogurt.  

Here are a few photos of the walk up to our apartment so you can see it without actually having to do it:

Our apartment is halfway up the hill just to the right of the pink building.

A set of stairs approximately a third of the way up.

Another set of stairs approximately two thirds of the way up.

Even in the morning, we returned from our hike soaked and tired. We checked the local weather.  At 9am this morning, the temperature was 84 degrees and the weather forecast for today called for a high of...wait for it...78 degrees.  I'm no meteorologist, but I would guess the high for today would be >=84 degrees.  Apparently weather forecasting is not their strong suit.

We took a car trip to the neighboring peninsula to see the sights in a nearby town.  We took a walk on a lovely promenade that followed the beach and had unbelievably delicious bouillabaisse.  Here is a photo of my patient, long-suffering husband's reaction to the bouillabaisse.  (The cuts on his nose look much worse up close, but as you can see, they are healing nicely.) 

We drove on amazingly steep and winding roads with beautiful views, if you were brave enough to take your eyes off the road to see them.  We also saw a beautiful panoramic view of Monaco. 

We returned to the apartment in the late afternoon, tired but very happy.  And then I took a nap.  It may be that I have not totally adjusted to the time change, or it may be that I am physically tired from all the activity.  Or maybe I am just relaxed.  I woke up and joined my patient, long-suffering husband in the garden for our now-familiar evening of drinking wine, eating snacks, and watching the scenery.  

The Royal Carribean ship got its passengers embarked in good order and was on its way.  The Ibero ship, however, had significantly more difficulty.  I will refrain from any stereotypical remarks regarding the typical pace of life in Spain. We watched ferries bring passengers back to the ship for three and a half hours.  And then we realized the most stressful part of our day was spending three and a half hours wondering whether all the passengers would make it back to the cruise ship before it left.  I think this just became officially the best trip ever.

I know this blog is supposed to be about my foot, but it is not important to me right now.  There are things that feel better and there are new pains.  C'est la vie.  There are only two things that matter right now.  Being here in paradise with my patient, long-suffering husband, and making sure the Spanish cruise ship makes it way out of the harbor.

6/9/14. The post where we climb a zillion stairs.

6/9/14: woke up much earlier this morning. We are slowly becoming acclimated to the time change.  As usual, the night's rest did my foot good and it was back to a very manageable 4.5.  As soon as we got up, my patient, long-suffering husband opened the blinds and said, "Uh oh, cruise ship!"  We had read that cruise ships sometimes stop in the harbor, bringing hordes of day tourists.  We wanted breakfast and fresh bread, so we raced into the village to beat the rush.

We had a nice breakfast at an outdoor table and we could already tell it was going to be a hot day.  Vendors were setting up in the same area as yesterday's antique market, but the merchandise today was very different.  Sunglasses, blowup swim toys, t-shirts, and every tacky tourist item you can imagine, all of which were emblazoned with "Côté d'Azur", of course.  Once we were down on the harbor, we could see that it was a Disney cruise ship and soon the village was overrun with (mostly) American families with young children.  We did our shopping and toured two churches, then drove back to the apartment.

While the apartment is very close to the harbor, it is high up on the hill, so we have been driving to the village each day, which is more of an undertaking than it sounds.  It means navigating the crowded, narrow streets while avoiding a collision, finding a parking lot with available spaces, and mastering the automatic parking pay system.  All to get to a place we can see from our garden.  So my patient, long-suffering husband did some navigational research, courtesy of Google maps, and discovered there is a way to walk to the village.  We were both feeling strong and adventurous today, so we decided to try it at lunch time.  

The trip down was fairly easy.  The Google map directions were right on the money and we had no trouble finding our way.  As we expected, though, it was straight down.  And we knew what that meant for the trip back.  We had yet another delicious lunch outside and enjoyed the people-watching.  The day got hotter and hotter.  The weather forecast before the trip indicated highs in the high 70s to 80 and I worried that I hadn't packed warm enough clothes.  The high today had to be 95.  No wonder everyone was heading to the beach.  

We did a little more shopping and exploring, bought the largest bottle of water we could find, and started the trip back up.  And up and up and up.  Some of the path was shaded, but even so, by the time we got to the apartment, our clothes were completely soaked and we were exhausted.  A quick shower and a nap were in order.  And it's a good thing our apartment has a washer, because our clothes are unwearable.  In fact, they are unpackable.  We either have to wash them or burn them. 

My health monitor tracked the timing of the walk and even with several rest and water stops, it only took about 12 minutes.  It sure seemed longer than that.  My foot did not seem to bother me during the walk.  Maybe it was because I was busy being bothered by my ten extra pounds and lack of recent endurance training.  (Pre-CRPS, I could have done it standing on my head.  Well, maybe not standing on my head, but it would have been much easier.)  After showering and lying down to rest, though, my foot announced its presence forcefully.  The nap did wonders.  Even four hours later, it is still a little red, but the pain level is down to about a 6 and diminishing rapidly as I drink this glass of rosé.

Despite all I just said, it still seemed better than driving.  We've resolved to try it again tomorrow, but in the morning instead.  We expected this to be a trip involving a lot of walking and I am mentally prepared.  Repeating the trek each day may not do anything to help my foot, but it will certainly help with the weight and endurance.  And it may be the only way to fit into my clothes by the end of the trip, since I am incapable of laying off the pasta and risotto.

We've developed a very nice pattern - spending most of the day exploring the village and the late afternoon and evening in the garden enjoying the scenery.  This evening, I have been very productive.  I studied intensely the onboarding process of the tourists back on to the cruise ship.

I learned the pattern of the local trains running through the area.

I watched in awe (and sometimes in fear) the delicate dance between the cars, buses, motorcycles, scooters, bicycles, and pedestrians. 

Whew, I'm exhausted.  And to think, I have to do it again tomorrow.  Please excuse me while I pour another glass of rosé.

6/8/14. The post where we have a very relaxing second day of vacation.

6/8/14: I had a bit of trouble gettng to sleep last night, but still managed to get in almost eight hours.  I woke up feeling mentally refreshed, but not so great physically.  I was up at about a 7, which is pretty good considering what I had put myself through over the previous two days, but not as good as I'd hoped.  I got up and shuffled around for awhile, but my patient, long-suffering husband was still sawing logs, so I decided to lie back down for a bit...and woke up five hours later!  This time my foot was feeling much better, back down to about a 5.5.  My stomach, however, was highly offended at the fact that it hadn't been fed in about 18 hours.  "Hey! I thought we were on vacation!  Where's the grub?"  My stomach is terribly uncouth.

We got ready quickly and tried to call our local contact to explain the issue with the window, but we had to leave a message.  Pentecost means a three-day weekend in Europe, so everyone is out celebrating, especially in a beach resort town.  In case you are wondering, here is what a patio door looks like after someone walks face first into it: 

Fortunately, my patient, long-suffering husband fared a little better. He has some cuts on his nose and hand, but nothing broken and no serious bruising.  When our contact called us back later this evening, she was apologetic about not calling back sooner, explaining that she was at the beach and didn't have her cell phone.  She didn't seem too concerned about the door and said she'd have someone come out Tuesday morning after the holiday to look at it.  Whew.

We went out for a late lunch and had another spectacular meal.  Then we strolled around a small Sunday market, where we found a vendor selling vintage posters, a particular weakness of mine.  After a lot of searching, we found our trip souvenir.  A large, colorful French aperatif poster from the 1930s.  

Carrying it around for the rest of the trip will be quite a chore.  Good thing we rented a car.

We looked around a little more in the village, then found a small shop where we could buy some food and wine to have at the apartment.  Since we'd had a big, late lunch, we opted to snack in the garden for dinner.

Being late in the day on a holiday weekend, no fresh bread was available, so we opted for a package of partially pre-cooked baguettes, which we presumed were the French equivalent of Pillsbury.  Au contraire, mon frère!  After much puzzling over the translations, we followed the instructions for baking them and they were quite delicious - soft inside and perfectly crusty outside.  We should have known the French would not accept poor quality bread, even if it is pre-packaged and sold at a convenience store.  We also found a lovely provençal rosé from the same maker as one we regularly buy at home.  Our usual price? $20. The price here?  Approximately $7, after conversion.  I love buying local.

We've spent a lovely, quiet evening carefully inspecting the garden and staring out into the harbor.  In addition to a variety of beautiful flowers, we have lemons and kumquats, as well as rosemary and mint.  We're already planning ways to use all of them this week. Tomorrow we hope to get moving a little earlier so we can do more exploring.  But if we don't, that's okay, too.

I wore the world's most comfortable shoes during our adventure today, but my foot is still a little irritated.  I'm counting on another good night's sleep to set it right again.  Lots to do tomorrow.  Like stare out at the water a little more.

6/7/14. The post where we have an extremely interesting first day of vacation.

6/7/14: slight delay in the takeoff of our flight to Milan, but an easy, uneventful trip.  As expected, they kept us very busy on the flight.  Drinks, then dinner, then more drinks, lots of movie and TV show options, a few hours of enforced quiet time, then breakfast and landing.  For awhile after dinner, my foot got very red and angry, but I was happy to learn that a little sleep did wonders, even when it was in an airplane seat. 

We flew over Mont Blanc and the French Alps this morning, which was incredible.  The Milan airport was lovely - not too large or crowded, a new terminal, and an easy customs process.  We picked up our rental car and headed south.  Our rental vehicle was a Fiat 500.  In theory, the same car my patient, long-suffering husband drives at home.  The difference?  His has a Mopar engine.  Our rental car has a go-kart engine.  Say what you will about Detroit, but they can make cars that move forward when you press the gas pedal.

We had a beautiful drive through the mountains and then along the Ligurian/Mediteranean coast.  We stopped for lunch along the way at a truck stop on the toll road.  Here is a truck stop lunch in Italy:

Buon appetito!

Made our way to a village on the French Riveria, picked up the keys, and headed to the apartment we are renting.  Here's our view for the next week:

A quick shower and change of clothes and we were ready for dinner.  We had a wonderful meal at an outdoor restaurant with views of the entire village and the sea.  The weather was perfect and the people watching was just as good.  What a way to start a vacation!  Can it get any better than this?

We went back to the apartment to get a good night's sleep so we could do some real exploring tomorrow.  I had another small flare-up before dinner, but things calmed down and I feel up to a good walk tomorrow.  I got ready for bed as my patient, long-suffering husband took one last walk out into the garden to look at the sea in the moonlight.  Suddenly, I heard a thundering crash, followed by, "I'm okay. I'm bleeding a little, but I'm okay."  I ran out to the patio to find that he had walked straight into the closed glass patio door.  Being awake for nearly two days straight plus dark, unfamiliar surroundings is not a good combination. He was standing in the middle of a sea of broken glass with blood running from his nose and hand.  We got him inside and cleaned up, and it didn't appear that he needed any more serious medical attention than I could give him with my first-aid kit.  (Suddenly my overly prepared packing regimen looks like a feature and not a bug.)

Finally, we went to bed and he fell fast asleep.  That's going to sting in the morning.  I began writing this blog when suddenly there was another thundering crash.  But this time, it was good news.  Fireworks in the cove!  I ran to the second patio door (the one that was still fully intact) and watched the show.  It was short but spectacular, and I had one of the best seats in the house.

What a day. Or rather, two days.  We'll call the real estate agent in the morning about repairing the glass and then head out to see the town in the full light of day. Hope tomorrow is a little less exciting than today was.

6/6/14. The post where I do a slightly easier version of D-Day.

6/6/14: to catch everyone up, Thursday was a crazy pre-trip day.  I put in my last full day at work for three weeks, bought last-minute toiletries, picked up prescriptions, did four loads of laundry, printed travel documents, and started the packing process.  (I've been accused of being intentionally mysterious about our destination, but that's not my intent.  I just figured I'd already spent too much time talking about about trip preparations and I wanted to make sure I still had something to post about when I get there! Don't worry, I'll get to it eventually.)

Oh, and I had my vacation mani/pedi.  Here's a destination hint: as a little inside joke, I got an American manicure on my fingers and "You're so Euro" on my toes.  You wouldn't know that just by looking (unless you are an OPI executive), but I know, and it makes me giggle.  Because I'm silly that way.

But back to the packing process.  My patient, long-suffering husband and I have different packing philosophies.  My first step is planning obsessively for months. I carefully select clothing that is destination appropriate, doesn't wrinkle easily or take up too much valuable suitcase space, and coordinates well enough that my shoes and accessories can do double (or triple) duty.  Then I make a list of everything I need to take, from documents to medications to electronics to ensure I don't forget to pack anything.  Then I also make a list of every last-minute thing I have to do before the trip.  Then, the night before the trip, I get everything out to begin packing and add a bunch of things to the pile that weren't on my list.  I begin packing my suitcase and realize everything won't fit, so I start the difficult and painful elimination process.  After I cram as much as possible into the suitcase, I go to bed and lie awake all night worried that I've forgotten something or eliminated the wrong items. I get out of bed the morning of the trip and take a few things back out of the suitcase so I can replace them with things I've determined are more important during my sleepless night.  Close the suitcase, go to the airport, check in my baggage, get on the plane, then spend the whole flight worried that I've forgotten something or made the wrong replacement choices.  And that, my friends, is how I go on vacation.  

His process is as follows: he makes sure to get a good night's sleep the night before the trip. The morning of the trip, he asks me, "What is the weather supposed to be like where we are going?"  Then he throws some clothes and toiletries in a suitcase and voila, ready for vacation.  

And he is trying to bring me over to the dark side one step at a time.  Last night he convinced me to go to bed without a single thing inside my suitcase.  There is plenty of time in the morning.  Even if I forget something, as long as we have our travel ID, prescriptions, and a credit card, it will all work out.  I slept, but not very much. (64% sleep score - a new record.)  When I woke up (early) this morning, I started packing.  Lo and behold, everything fit on the first try!  In fact, I had a little extra space, which will be useful on the trip home.  We were ready in plenty of time and were sitting on the porch waiting when the shuttle arrived.

We had a very pleasant first leg of our flight and were really glad we had gone to the trouble to get TSA pre-check certification.  Then we arrived at JFK airport for our overnight flight.  In case you've never been there, JFK is a cesspool.  A big, crowded, disorganized cesspool.  And guess what? They don't have TSA pre-check yet.  Which meant, among other things, I had to take off my shoes to go through security.  I hope all my shots are up to date.

We are about to board a plane for Milan.  When we arrive in the morning, we will pick up our rental car and make the four hour drive to a little town on the French Riveria which will be our home for the first week of our trip.  I hope to post as much as possible on the trip, but it may be sporadic, depending on internet access.  My foot has been pretty irritated the last day and a half during my pre-trip frenzy, but I feel certain it's nothing a week looking at the Mediterranean while drinking good French wine won't cure.  Bonne nuit, y'all.

6/5/14. A quick post.

6/5/14: I'm in full on, freak out, OCD packing mode.  No time to post, but I will spend a lot of time tomorrow sitting in airports, so I promise to catch you up then.  I need a vacation just to recuperate from preparing for my vacation...

6/4/14. The post where I kick it into overdrive.

6/4/14:  here's where I have a fundamental disagreement with my health monitor.  Last night, I had crazy dreams all night long and woke up feeling mentally exhausted.  However, I got a 92% sleep score because I got an unusually high amount of REM sleep.  REM sleep is the sleep cycle where your mind processes information and sorts out memories (which occurs through dreaming).  Maybe in the long term it is good for your memory and mental state.  But to me, it just felt like I had stayed awake all night watching really bizarre movies.  

My brain may have been a little scrambled, but my foot was in pretty good shape - about a 4.  And it stayed that way all through the morning.  While I was concerned about both my work and trip to-do lists, I kicked it into super-human gear and accomplished a bunch of things on both lists.  I got enough done that even if I don't get anything done tomorrow, I could probably still manage to get on the plane with no regrets.  Well, we are talking about me, so there would be regrets.  But not valid ones.

My patient, long-suffering husband and I made a quick trip to our favorite sushi place to celebrate our anniversary.  Our real celebration will come during our vacation.  Looking forward to it, and to telling you about it.  After dinner, we came home and opened a really good bottle of wine with our house guests to celebrate the completion of their new home.  An important day for everyone!

The afternoon and evening were not quite as good for my foot. Quite a bit of redness and up to a 6.  Strange (and awesome) how in a few short weeks, a 6 can go from being a good day to being a bad day.  Here's hoping a 6 never becomes a good day again.