Paris Wrap Up and Back in the USA

One of the great things about living in Europe is the ease of travel. If we take the Eurostar train through the Chunnel we can be in Paris in less than 3 hours from leaving our flat in London (includes security and the tube to get to the Chunnel station). But wait there's more - starting in mid-November the train moves to faster tracks and the travel time will be even shorter! Anyway, the point of the infomercial is that we left Paris with a list of to-do's when we return. We want to visit the catacombs, eat at Bistrot Vivienne, grab a drink at Buddha Bar (the inspiration for Tao in Midtown) and spend more time in Marais. One thing I definitely will not do is eat again at Cafe Honore. It's a little touristy spot near the Louvre that we went to out of desperation. I have no proof, but I think I ate something bad because that night I didn't feel great and the next night when I returned to London (the night before we were due to be on planes for 13 hours to Portland) I got really sick. My stomach was a mess, I had the chills, nausea, and then I woke up in a pool of sweat with a really high fever. What's my answer to such a situation - I call "me Mum." She is a pharmacist, so as usual her advice was to pop some pills. I really didn't think I could handle the flight, but the purpose of the trip was for Tiff's sister's wedding, so after 2,000 milligrams of Advil my fever was reduced to non-sweating levels and I sucked it up.

A combination of aggressiveness and luck got me a 5 seat row to myself on the flight to SFO, so I was able to lay down and sort of sleep. I was never 100% in Portland, but I attended all the required events - even got pulled over by Portland's finest with a car full of drunken bachelor party guys (including the bachelor). The reason - my tires squealed going around a corner downtown. I wasn't going over 15 mph, but I hit those Max tracks and next thing I know lights are flashing. Cop even thought he knew me "or your cousin who looks just like you" - good times. In all seriousness, the wedding was really nice - I just wish I could have fully enjoyed it. It was pretty interesting to spend time in Portland after living outside of the NW for a while. There's a history/culture of drunken stupidity and thuggishness from the English that permeates everyday life. Not so much in central London because there aren't that many English here. Portland, and I love the city, hasn't shed it's redneck/hick past. It's just a lot of little things, and I remember noticing it when we moved back to Seattle in 2001, but after 6 years you tend to forget and it just becomes normal. The things that stand out to me are the general lack of refinement. For example, people dress as if they are either going to work on their cars or play beer league softball, and I'm not just talking about walking around town during the day. As I mentioned, we went out on Thursday night for the bachelor party. First thing that was shocking - all the bars were dead. In fact the reason I got pulled over is because we were in search of a more happening bar. The club we found - Betty Ford - was actually solid - despite a bunch of dude's wearing baseball caps, basketball shoes and shorts. I found myself asking - how does the doorman let in all these guys? Then I remembered - it's Portland.

Here's a photo of Nicole and Tiff from the wedding.