Category: Travel

Normandy, Paris, Planning to Travel, Travel

52 Days to France

Mona Alvarado Frazier
52 days and a wake-up (that’s prison slang for 53 days) until my France adventure.

Have you ever wanted to do something for most of your life and now that something is within reach and you kind of don’t believe it? That’s how I feel about going to France for a month.


Why France? Awe inspiring museums, bookstores, buildings, bridges, food-to name a few. I’ve been there once, for the vacationer’s  8 day fling with my sisters, mom, and daughter five years ago. We visited 7 of the top 10 sites to see in Paris, but didn’t get a chance to ‘feel’ Paris. Time constraints and people one travels with can do that to a vacation. 

After that trip, which was enjoyable, except for a very rude, bi*chy Frenchwoman at the train station (must admit we cursed each other in our own languages (French, me: Spanglish and English), I determined that I must go back to France for a longer period of time. One surly woman don’t stop no show. 

My preparation so far is to buy my airfare and find my passport. 

Musee d’orsay 
The only list I’ve made is the one in my head. It’s the sites I want to see. I missed D’Orsay last time because my mom “got lost” in the Louvre and we were there for 2 hours more than scheduled (but she enjoyed it). Besides D’Orsay:

Rodin Museum , Sorbonne, Petite Palais, Shakespeare’s & Co. Bookshop, the inside of the Paris Opera house, and probably 20  other sites. (I really should make a list).    

This is totally not me. I’m the planner with 2 or 3 guidebooks in hand, maps, itinerary, and reservations 90 days in advance, etc. I think I’m so nonchalant because I’m not organizing the trip for my family. It’s just me and my friend Amada (who lucky for me is fluent in French and has visited France 5 times). Or perhaps I’m not preparing as usual because I don’t believe I’m really going for a month. 
I’ve talked to my kids about my plan for a year. They are all young adults, 19-26, who live with me. They will cover the mortgage for the month of September, buy their own groceries, and water the plants. We’ll see how that goes. 

First place we’re going is to the Normandy region. Again, lucky for me, my friend has an international timeshare and there was an opening. We’ll rent an apartment for the 3 weeks in Paris.

I want to do that now, Amada says lets book a hotel for 4 days and then find an apartment once we’re there. That’s living on the dangerous side of the block so we compromised and will look for a place 30 days before we leave.

I hope we don’t end up in a hostel because there’s no room at the inn. 
via Tripadvisor

Now, where are those French CD’s Amada lent me a month ago? 
Parenting, Teenage road trip, Travel

Teenage Road Trip-Part Dos

Mona Alvarado Frazier
photo by Jim unprofound.com

My two youngest hit the dark road at 3:30 a.m. heading to San Francisco for three days. My son is nineteen, my daughter twenty-two, and they took three friends with them in a small SUV. Remember those days? Some of us did that kind of thing in a VW, the Beetle, not the van. Ah, to be young.
They’re probably cramped up by now.

A few months back, Vegan son planned his first road trip. I’m using ‘planned’ in the loosest sense of the word. He abandoned his SF trip and headed to Santa Barbara instead. This time the kids have a hotel, courtesy of mom, because it’s what Adventure daughter wanted for her birthday.

Vegan son didn’t take luggage, not even a backpack.

     “My toothbrush fits in my pocket and I have on two other t-shirts under this one.”
     “Oh-kay.” (eye-roll and nose scrunch)
     I didn’t ask about underwear. Glad I’m not in the car with him for six hours.

Adventure daughter had her Harajuku camouflaged Duffle bag for her two night stay, a Trader Joe’s grocery bag filled to the brim with eats, a small rolling cooler for beverages, and a map in her hand (in case the GPS on their phones didn’t work). The other three teens had backpacks, bags of snacks, and smiling faces. Their parents didn’t come over to see them off.

photo by Jim unprofound.com

It was with a little melancholy that I said “safe travels, have fun,” as I tried to be as innocuous as possible in my cheetah print flannel PJ’s and robe. I  had to search their faces to see a glimmer of their eager smiles hidden beneath their cool exteriors when I reminded them to be alert.

Did you take your chargers, your insurance cards, jumper cables, Triple A card, water bottles…?
“Maaah-mumm.”
They got into the car without a look back. I know they glance in the rear view mirror and see 19 and 22 year old young adults. But I see 6 and 9 year old children looking back at me.

My mom’s voice blasted through my thoughts: “when you have kids, you’ll know…” Yeah, yeah–but it’s true. I wanted to throw that maxim in my kids detached emotionless faces, but I didn’t. I know they heard me.

At seven fifteen Vegan son texted me that they were at a rest stop. They saw the sun rise over the San Luis Obispo mountains earlier: “Ah-sum,” he said.

At eleven o’clock, Adventurous daughter texted “Here.”
Noon: “They said they need your ID and Credit Card #, front and back, by fax or email or a $100 deposit, I don’t have $100,” Adventure daughter wails.
12:30: We don’t have a fax so three emails and phone calls later (incorrect address) the card info is sent.
12:35: “Ok, thank you so much.”

I can take a nap now, since I’ve been up since three thirty this morning. It’s hard to let go and believe that they don’t need mom.
Well, maybe they do, for a hotel.