May 2026

It sure does rain a lot. Sometimes its just a sprinkle and sometimes its a downpour. Fortunately, it isn’t really cold, but it is humid. We have mosquito deterrents in a few rooms and have just purchased those silica gel packs designed to absorb moisture for the clothes closets.

International Chocolate Show. We stumbled on a poster getting off the tram that was promoting “Show-colat” – an international chocolate show! It was an industry show in the morning, and open to the public for tasting and purchasing in the afternoon. Amazing chocolates from around the world; amazing to see Vietnamese or El Salvadoran cacao beans made into chocolate in the U.S, the UK, Swtizerland, Germany, Venezuela and more. The buzz was in Spanish, Portugues, Italian, German and more. 70 stalls of truly some of the finest chocolate I’ve ever had, and some of the most unusual, imaginative flavors too. While I didn’t care for the carmelized onion, the bourbon was outstanding. Rooibos/vanilla was smooth and wonderful. Talking with the vendors was great fun too; almost all spoke English and many were proud family run businesses. All were eager to share how they source their beans, their process. I love seeing people who are passionate about what they are doing. They just love sharing what they love with you. And while the chocolate wasn’t free, the tasting and the event were!

On the Garrone River. Just blocks away from our apartment is the Garrone River. It was the artery that brought the outside world to Bordeaux, with ships from around the world. Churning and moving, the water is constantly brown. But at the changing of tides for a just a moment, the water is still as glass. Our TBM tram passes also work on the bateau (boats) that serve the Garrone in the Bordeaux area; there are three routes. May 8 is the French equivalent of Veterans Day for those who served in the World Wars, so everything was on a Sunday/Holiday schedule. Even with fewer boats were running , we were lucky to have essentially our own personal ride up and down the river. The sun was warm and bright, a slight breeze felt refreshing… just a glorious day for a ride on the river.

Just prior to hopping on the bateau, we took a short walk down a path that had these marvelous wonders. They are not flowers I typically see. Do you know what they are called?

Free speech. Paul were walking back from the tram stop, when we saw police watching a peaceful demonstration on the steps of the Grand Theater. The protesters are not new, but a coalition asking President Macaron to speak up for the Iranian people, raising their cause to the greater European community to help bring an end to the war. They shared photos of victims, those lost and those who have disappeared.

It’s a good reminder that there are many voices in this war that need to be heard, and have a right to be heard. Permitting a peaceful protest is essential for democracy. As I’ve observed the protests in the US – the No Kings rallies – I’m not convinced they influence changing policy, but having attended them, there is a sense of relief and community. You realize that others share your frustrations, your fears, your anger. You are not alone. That is an empowering feeling. That sense of agency keeps folks believing and hoping for a better outcome.

Housed inside a Christie’s Real Estate office, is a small art gallery. We were essentially pressing our noses against the window in such a way that the staff inside called us in. And am so glad that they did. The work is by Hannibal Renberg, a photographer, or more correctly, an iphone photographer. His work focuses on the every day lives of people he sees on the street. These two pieces really struck me. The two women remind me of some of the fun times I’ve had with girlfriends, and some of those times where we sat together and waited for a show to start, talked about how to manage a sticky situation, or shared a memory. The second piece, shook us a bit at first because it reminded us of how much we miss our parents. While we know its the glare of the window that creates kind of a ghost image, it makes you think about having a conversation with a loved one that has passed. You can see more of his work at https://www.hannibalrenberg.com.

In the category of trying something new, at the urge of our friend Asli, we tried pilates. Over dinner earlier this week she shared with us how pilates has been a transformative experience for her both physically and mentally. She shared feeling refreshed and less stiff – and now a reformer is now on her shopping list. With that endorsement, so we gave it a go at M Studio Pilates with Morgane, a charming bilingual instructor. Asli was right. We are feeling it now – but its that good kind of ‘enjoy the stretch’ feeling. Some of you may be too young and nimble to understand this yet. I’ve been telling Paul I need a stick to roll under my feet as my plantar fascitis has been taunting me; the rolly-thing we used under our soles gave me a tremenous release from the bottom of my feet. Sigh. I just ordered one from Amazon.fr. I’m going back next week. Maybe this will be my new way of exercising.

We got mail from America! We received our county voter information in the mail. While we are encouraged that the system (as of today) seems to be working, we already received ballots electronically and have already faxed it in and confirmed its receipt!

Our apartment in Place du Parlement St. Catherine will be a memory that we will revisit often. When we first arrived, we had been warned that we would need to climb four flights of stairs (no elevator). 72 steps. There is a hall light on a timer, so you do need to be mindful to get to the top before the light goes out. At night, it is very dark. We are at the very top of the building, and within the apartment is another set of stairs. The reward after all those steps is the view.

The building was built in the 1800s, and there are some aspects that seem to be from that time! The mosaic tile in the entry way is crumbling, and I can only imagine that a master craftsperson needs to be called in for repairs. The walls all have some kind of moulding and detailing. The stairs are worn, patched and uneven, but the railing is gorgeous. There are eyelet holes on each step, which were used once to anchor carpeting on the stairs. One might imagine that this was once one large house, and our apartment on top were the servants quarters.

There are 6 apartments. We share one garbage and one recycling bin. The garage pick up is 4 times a week, recycling once a week (does not include glass). No one person is responsible for taking the trash/recycling out – we all are. So its unspoken as to who does what when, so you just do it. If you take it out, you bring the bin back in the morning. Glass is actually collected in receptacles; there are two that are a few blocks away from us, The idea is that by separating glass only it makes the recycling process easier..

What we will remember is how we huffed and puffed up those stairs; how it shaped our shopping decisions (can we manage this much weight or the awkward shape of the item up these stairs?), how it made us plan ahead to make the most of every trip up and every trip down. We all also remember looking across the roof deck and seeing St. Michael’s golden spire, the bell tower of Gros Cloche, and the neighbors across the way who would open their paint-peeling shutters every morning and night. We will never forget the wooden floors that squeaked and gave in a little nor the wooden ceiling beams, that we needed to be wary of or risk finding them with our heads. We won’t miss the Spring Break revelers at midnight or the Brazilian drum crew at dinner time, hustling tourists in the plaza. While at times a little loud in our neighborhood, we were ok with it because it was the sound of people, who generally were happy, getting along, laughing and joking around. Sharing the joy of a well played futbol game on the big screen. No fighting, no shouting insults, or rough-housing. People generally picked up after themselves, waited in line, watched their children, helped the elderly, and were polite, civil and even kind to one another. I know. Sounds kind of utopian, doesn’t it?

A girly moment. I adore my hair stylist, Said. That said, he never keeps regular hours. I’m still intimidated to use my flailing French over the phone, so I try to drop by to either get a cut on the fly or make an appointment.. I was lucky to find him yesterday and made an appointment in person. I swear he is a hair magician. A wizard. We do our introductory Fran-glish (French/English mishmash), he offers me espresso, and then he begins. From the hair washing and head massage, to the strategic hair pinning, the hair twist followed by blade work, he gets in the zone. Of course with Algerian music in the background, you can literaly see him get pumped up. He kicked it up a notch this time, and did a keratin steam treatment. It is a hair straightener like device that pumps out steam-infused with keratin.

Holy cow. I felt like my straight hair was actually celebrated – usually hair stylists try to bend it, curl it, goop it up with product, determined to bend its will. He made my hair smooth, healthy, and shiny. He is the hair whisperer.

I think this is what makes Said special. Not only is he a gifted stylist, but you can see that he is focused on understanding your hair, make it shine in healthy ways, know that if you shake your head, the hair will return naturally to the way he intended. Don’t you love people with passion? Consumed with doing their best? While sitting in the chair, customers, cousins, friends drop in all the time. He greets them all, smiles and asks how they are doing? If he knows they speak some English, he introduces me as his American customer. There is this social networking that goes on and you feel privileged to be included. Honestly, its not very French to be so friendly so quickly, but it is a wonderful feeling to be welcomed.

And his prices are very reasonable. We look forward to haircut day.

Back to Back! Could you hear the cheers from France? Bordeaux’s rugby team takes the 2026 European Rugby Championships (6 countries, 24 teams in this league)for the second time! The city was decorated with the team’s colors and logos, and as we watched on television, we could hear every bar in the area cheer, groan and rejoice throughout the game. UBB won 41, to 19 against Leinster, an Irish team.

This morning we walked along the quai, shopped the open market for fresh vegetables, on a whim, thought we would check out the official UBB merchandise store just down the way. Well, others had the same thought with a small crowd waiting for the store to open. You could feel the community pride, camaraderie and joy in the store, in the streets. Proud Bordelais!

Pyquet, a street artist. (https://www.instagram.com/pyquet_art/) has artwork all over Bordeaux city centre. This artist clearly takes issue with politicians, oligarchs, bullies and social injustice (not just Americans)., but also that an understanding and protecting human dignity and decency needs a reboot. The three above are the latest in the ‘America’ series. He also has others that criticize Presdient Macron and other European leaders.

Allez, allez, PSG! It’s a joyous evening in France, as PSG (Paris St. Germaine Football Club) retained its status as the number one Premiere League European Football Club!  The neighborhood erupted with fire crackers, honking, singing and folks driving around, honking their horns. It was an incredibly close game. PSG fought hard against Arsenal, an English football club from Northern London, with the game tied 1-1, even after two overtime periods. The teams were visibly exhausted, having played a 90-minute game, then an additional 30 minutes in overtime. And so, it ended in a shoot-out. I’ve never seen this before! 5 members of each team have a chance to kick the ball into the goal net, and hopefully break the tie. It’s an incredible amount of pressure on both the kicker as well as the goalie.  PSG won, but truly, Arsenal put up a fierce fight. 

I love watching the game but I also find myself tense up, as I worry about players getting hurt: the pushing and pulling, flipping, tripping and kicking that players sustain.  It worries me.  I feel concern about the stress and mental state a player must face, especially during a championship. I think about all the harsh criticism that a goalie must get.  Why anyone would want to be a referee? The criticism, harsh words, (and probably threats) they must deal with would be very hard for the ordinary person. Not to mention their loved ones. I know, I know, they are all grown-ups, get paid and understand what the job is, so I shouldn’t care so much… but I do. 

I recently watched a documentary, UK Untold: Miracle in Istanbul, which tells the story of how Liverpool FC (football club) transformed over the course of 9 months, to become the Premiere League champions. In 2004, the team was deep in the dumps. According to the film, the team manager quit, and a new Spanish coach was selected.  The new coach, Rafa Benitez, seemed odd to the team. No motivational kumbaya mantras, no pep talks, and unusual practice and drills. One of their star players decided to leave the team and join a rival team. The coach then started to share his analysis of every player – their stats, their strengths, weaknesses, their likelihoods, their probabilities, and their habits. He also studied opponents.  Slowly, the team started to transform and work together, their talents and strengths revealed. LFC worked its way to the UAEF championship, facing Milan. The first half ended with Milan 3, LFC – 0. Then LFC came alive and tied the game, overtime, and a shoot-out which led them to win. A miracle. I found the interview with the then goalie really interesting. Jerzy Dudek, a Polish player, had had a rough season, but truly in this game, he was able to shine and brightly. I did a Wiki search, and apparently he went on to have a good career.  He had a special relationship apparently with then Pope John II, who as a kid had played goalie, and took a special interest in the fellow Polish goalkeeper.