Literally translating to ‘household of three’,  Ménage à trois, may happen to be some people’s favorite borrowed phrase from the French language.  I snapped this shot in the St Germaine section of Paris, and it seems to capture the (ironic) essence of the French in one split second.   What would your caption be?

Paris, France

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Greetings from Paris! Wish you were here!

This shot reminds me of an old postcard. Nearly any photo from Europe that you take in black and white can easily evoke a feeling of an earlier era since so many of the buildings are at least one hundred years old.

Paris’s Gare du Nord (North Station) was originally built in 1864 and remodeled into the building you see here in 1889.  It is one of six major train stations connecting Paris with all of France and beyond on the French SNCF train line.

Paris was the very first city I arrived in during my first trip to Europe. Now I’ve been there about four times and I still in awe of its charms.

Gare Du Nord
Paris, France

It’s time to dip into the recipe file for another scrum-sha-delicious treat from the road. This tasty pick was lovingly prepared for me by my good friend Audrey in Paris. Audrey and I met though Couchsurfing when she hosted me in the fall of 2008 at the start of my second leg of travel. During the first visit we’d snacked on some of my favorite food: local charcuterie (smoked/cured meats), fromage (cheese, glorious cheese), and a fresh, crusty baguette from her neighborhood  boulangerie (bakery) just across the street.   She and her cat Eros were great hosts so I returned in the spring before my return flight to New Jersey at the end of the grand world tour.  She whipped up this little dish – from one of her mom’s (who lives in Brittany) recipes. Merci Audrey!

Jacqueline’s Coquilles St. Jacques a la crème avec riz (Creamed Scallops with Rice)

• Shallots
• Garlic
• Butter
• Scallops
• Parsley
• Whisky or white wine
• Curry (optional)

Sauté shallots and garlic in butter. Add scallops. Simmer 3-5 minutes. Add Whiskey or wine.
Simmer again and allow liquid to evaporate.
Add a bit of cream. Season to taste.
Plate over white rice.

Bon Appétit!

That’s right. Like a good bout with déjà vu, I am back in the good ol’ U.S. of A.  I have actually just arrived at the Washington Dulles Airport and am trying to make some quick observations and judgments (yes, judgments) on the cross section of people before me. Now, granted, I am in an airport. It is probably more international than the average American main street. But now I sit waiting for my domestic connection to vacation hotspot, Newark, New Jersey and am surrounded by a majority of Americans. So who do I see? The basic answer is a little of everything: fat people, fit people, sloppy people, well-dressed people, short, black, tall, white, on and on. Possibly a bit less stylish and civilized than those I left hours ago in France, but probably also a bit friendlier. American really is the least homogonous place I’ve seen in a long time and hence we are back to the oft-used term of melting pot. America truly is one big fat creamy stew of all kinds and you just can’t put a label on it – many try to and many labels stick, but I am here to say – peel them off! As I traveled, I met a lot of folks who think they know who Americans are, but I think we are practically indefinable.

My traveling days are over…at least for now. Well, maybe just on a hiatus. Okay….a ten day hiatus, I am soon going down to Virginia (dragging the same damn bag) to see my brother, sis-in-law,  and cutie-pie nephew, Nick.

Then I will fly over to visit my mom in Colorado for some nice hugs and laughs. Then I will be back in New Jersey for my dad’s nuptials and then finally, in May, I return to my beloved Chicago where I suppose I will hang out for awhile and see what materializes. And believe it or not, I’m ready, so ready in fact that I counted down the days (good thing they were numbered – that made it easier). ‘What?’ you say. Yes. I’m tired, mentally tired. And it all goes in line with what I’d learned the first ‘go around.’ I need to do things – work, volunteer, anything that makes me local and keeps me in a place for a few months. On this leg of the journey, I traveled because I had a free ticket so I figured why not? But then I traveled more like a tourist which taught me again that that’s not what I want to be.  Don’t get me wrong, I had great times and met more and more interesting and fun people, saw beautiful places from France to Egypt and Estonia to Israel, but I suppose for now I need to hang up my walking shoes.

I have been traveling on and off now for 2 ½ years or 29 months or 124 weeks or roughly 875 days.  Sometimes I travel fast…jetting on cheap budget European airline to my next city and sometimes I travel slow – getting an apartment and a temporary job and not touching my bag for several months.  But, I think, as marathon runners often say, ‘I am finally hitting the wall.’ And scary and limiting as it may be, perhaps it is time to ‘plant some roots’ again and see how it all feels – I’ll probably feel like a caged monkey and possibly it won’t be long until I’m off and running again.

I spent 10 days traversing the various arrondissements, avoiding any missteps into a pile of hot French bulldog doo doo with aplomb, of the aptly named “City of Lights.” From charming Montmartre and the leafy park Bois de Bologne, to starkly modern La Defense and the ‘real life’ working class neighborhood of Belleville (all the while humming the theme from the Oscar-nominated animated film “Triplets of Belleville”), my third time in Paris was a charm.  I covered a lot of the city à pied with my camera slung over my shoulder. So without further ado, some photos for you: