Futility Now

As Joaquin mentioned, I fell and did an number on my ankle.  During the rest of our vacation, I was spoiled with good company and attention and carried around, and there was a truly incredible view from our windows.  Despite this, my ankle refused to chin up, and just became bluer and bluer. Literally.

So, while it wasn’t on our itinerary, we made a stop at the Mad River Hospital (what a name!) to make sure I hadn’t broken anything.  Nope, not broken, but the ligaments are damaged, so it’s going to be a long time before I get back to my ballet classes.

I went back to work yesterday, and my students were wonderful, but it definitely wrecked me.  Crutching around is work.  I got all sweaty and I am just not a sweaty person.

So I stayed home again today, and did a lot of sleeping.  You know I’m not myself when you see me photographed in a hoodie.  I have never even owned a hoodie in my life.  This is one of Sylvia’s abandoned ones that has sharpie marker stains all over the sleeves.  But its shlubbiness is telling.  Seriously, I watched The Cutting Edge on Netflix and ate a Kit Kat today.  I guess my ligaments aren’t the only worrisome thing…

So we just got home from Trinidad. In Trinidad we drank fine wines, at delicious food and lounged around in a hot tub. On the downside, Hazel really did a number on her ankle because she was looking at the spectacular view instead of the porch in front of her. Now she’s on crutches. At any rate, here are a bunch of pictures.

There was also a lot of rain, but it was nice to just watch it through the windows. The drive home was also pretty soggy, and we stopped on the other side of Rice Hill, which is always fun.

Shots from the car.

On Friday night we stopped a bit outside Cave Junction at a resort whose rooms are tree houses.

We didn’t get to do anything exciting, but the room was nice and the breakfast they provided was quite good. It seems like it’s the sort of place that rewards a longer stay. If you like horses or ziplines or whatever.

Now we’re in Trinidad, and I’m sure there will be more to say about that presently.

You can go to Pere Lachaise with a plan to visit all of the important dead people, or you can show up with Vittel, cookies, some Orangina, and two mini-pitchers of chilled wine, and have yourself a picnic.

Then you can wander around looking for shadowy corners in which to exchange kisses, since cemeteries are sort of sexy. In an admittedly weird way.

The crumbly stone! The rusty metal! The fonts! The dead!

Unlike Notre Dame and The Centre de Pompidou, I didn’t cry at Pere Lachaise, but I think I still managed to have a religious experience.

Note: Yes, I realize the video is sideways. Shrug.

Last stop in Toulouse? Coffee drinks with Nutella!

We met up with Kate and Zia in Beziers and headed to St. Chinian in a gigantic fancy midnight blue Citroen. Kate is an. . . exciting driver. Whew!

We could see why Kate felt guilty with just the two of them at the house initially.  It is four stories tall.

J and I stayed on the fourth floor, where everything was butter yellows and smooth terrazzo tiles and gigantic bathtub. Ooh la la.

I haven’t done nearly as much traveling as J, and I’m sure it’s come up somewhere already that this is my first time abroad. What I will say is that the few times I have traveled have been longer trips that have allowed me to do things like grocery shop and cook and get a general sense of what daily life is like. It was great fun, then, to go to the supermarche and pick up some cured meats and pasta and veg, and then (over a gas stove, le sigh) throw something together with the sound of cicadas and the long sharp shadows of early evening in the background.

Rather unfairly, the next morning J had to report to work; Kate and Zia and I went off into the mountains, more specifically to St. Pons and Fraisse-sur-Agout.

It was very pretty, and hot. We wandered down to the source of the Jaur, under a rocky outcropping. The air was positively chilling, it was so strange compared to the direct environs. I find nature totally bewildering, in this case it was in a nice way.