COVID in France?

All ready to travel during COVID

Since it first struck, we have been very careful about the COVID virus. We were among the first to get our vaccinations and we wore masks when shopping or when there were crowds. It really seemed to work; all those around us caught the virus and we escaped. Flying over here to France, we wore the best masks available on the plane and kept them on the whole time. We took a taxi to the train station and wore masks in the cab, and kept them on in the Train station and on the train. We felt we were being careful for ourselves and considerate to others since we had just arrived off a crowded international flight. 

However, we were really the only ones wearing masks once we landed in France. There were a few people in the train station, but I suspect they were newly arrived tourists like us. In fact, on the train, the two young men sitting across from us got up and found other seats rather than sitting with the two masked English speaking tourists. 

No masks here in Narbonne at all

Our first trip out to get supplies and groceries, was done with masks ready in our pockets, and we wore them in the stores and market. When our landlady arrived to greet us the next day she did not have a mask and when questioned about COVID, she replied, “No it is all over with here. No need for masks or restrictions!”

For the first few days, we did still take our masks, but when no one else is wearing them, it is difficult, so even Regis, “the cautious one” quickly seemed to forget her mask back in the apartment when we went out. After the first couple of days, we simply went with the majority of the populous here and went about our new French lives as if COVID was all over. In fact, today while walking down by the Market we did see a fellow wearing a mask and Regis commented, “When I saw him, my first reaction was that he must have COVID and is protecting others.”

No masks in Toulouse either

Now, when we head back to Canada in a couple of weeks, we will probably wear masks on the plane or at least have then ready, but so far we have had no issues, no coughs, no fevers, nothing, so all seems good, and I must admit it does feel good to go about your daily lives as if “Life is back to normal.”

SO . . . dinner inside out of the wind and rain is possible. 

Finding the Trail

Interesting Street Views

Walking in Toronto is a lot different than back home, where we have so many trail systems to explore all within a short distance from home. Here in Toronto, most of our walking is exploring the streets in the area. Some days we simply set out and zig-zag through neighbourhood streets enjoying the different settings and the interesting sights we find. 

This is not to say Toronto does not have some excellent parks and walking trails, but most are not within easy walking distance and many actually make you pay to park in order to enjoy the trails. In fact, I recall 50 years ago visiting Toronto and being impressed that a short walk from my hotel, I could walk down into a forested ravine and the large city completely disappeared. That same unique park system remains today and is not far from the condo. It is called the Don Valley Parklands and follows the Don River from Lake Ontario all the way up past the highway 401. This system of parklands contains miles and miles of trails and during previous visits to the city we explored some of them. The Evergreen Brickworks discussed in an earlier post is on this parkland. On one of our walks this trip, I thought I’d go explore some more of this trail system. 

Unfortunately it did not work out to be so easy. We walked over towards where we knew the parklands were and from an overpass we could see the trail, running down between the river, the train tracks and the Don Valley Parkway Highway. The difficulty on our first attempt was finding a way down onto the trail. With a railway on one side and the river on the other, we had to find an access point. After trying various streets that crossed the river, we got tantalizing views of the trail and people happily walking down there, but no way to actually get to it. After our walk reached our usual 5 - 6 km limit, we gave up and went home to research on Google Maps how to actually get onto the trail. 

A Farm in the City

On our next attempt we decided to explore both the Riverdale Farm and take a pathway shown on the map leading down to the trail. The farm was interesting with chickens, pigs, cows, horses and goats happily living on a farm here in the middle of the city, but the trail was closed down to the trail and we got distracted by discovering that Toronto has a Necropolis like we saw in Glasgow Scotland, so it also needed to be explored. 

Finally finding the Trail

Finally, by sitting down and going back to Google Maps on our phone, we did find a pathway across the train tracks and down onto the trail, but by then we had covered a fair distance, so after a short “Trail Walk” we located another entrance and decided to call it a day after 8 km. 

Today with the sun shining and temperatures getting up to a reasonable number we set out to finish the trail down towards the Toronto waterfront where we turned back home. There is however still more to explore, but at least we now know how to get onto the trail, and will see on another outing what the waterfront section has in store. 

I wonder what this sign used to advertise

Interesting Art Installation

Toronto's Necropolis

A bridge to Nowhere

Street Art on the Trail

A very cool fence on our walk

Walking To Estoril

Walking the malecon

One of the things I like to do when I travel is look for a good book that was written about the place I am visiting. I do not mean a tourist guide book; I look for a novel that is set in the location. Here is Cascais, we walked into the Tourist information centre and discovered a book in a display on one wall. It was called “Estoril”, which is the name of the town two stops down the train line we took coming here. I bought the book and started reading it. Actually written by a Croatian who lives in Lisbon it is well written and very interesting.

After a couple of days exploring Cascais, we looked at the map and realized that Estoril was easily within walking distance from Cascais. Like Cascais, Estoril is a coastal town, so walking there would be a nice walk along the coast. Friends who had visited here earlier also suggested this walk, so we knew it was a good one.

Actually getting out of Cascais was the only problem, as the waterfront areas are busy and crowded, but a few twists and turns put us on a beautiful waterfront Malecon (A Spanish word for waterfront stone sidewalk) that ran all the way from Cascais to Estoril.

This section of the coast features the lovely beaches that our previous walk lacked, and so this area

Lots of beaches

was busy and packed with sunbathers and swimmers enjoying the sunshine and beautiful warm weather here. There would be a beach packed with umbrellas and people then a short section of rocky coastline followed by another lovely beach. Of course each beach area was also well serviced by little cafes and tourist shops. The other advantage of this walk was that the train line ran alongside the beach so if the route was too long or Regis felt she was stretching her walking limit she could hop on the train. Unfortunately this did not work so well. Half way to Estoril she decided to let me go on walking and she would hop on the train and we would meet up in Estoril. Turns out you need exact change at the little in-between stops and although a kind local offered to give her the extra pennies she required, she also pointed down the line to the Estoril train stop, already in sight and said “You do not need the train, it is a short walk.” Meanwhile I had arrived in Estoril and was waiting by the exit from the train stop when Regis came walking around the corner.

Seriously . . . . 

In Estoril we walked up to visit the casino. We were told that it was the BIGGEST in Europe and I had read about it in my “Estoril” book so I knew it was built in the 30's. We were expecting an elegant old building, but if this casino was built in the 30's, they have obviously renovated it extensively since, because what greeted us at the top of the road was a huge ugly square chrome building. And it was not very big, but I guess visiting Las Vegas sort of gives you a slanted view of casinos.

Walking up to the Casino however I was surprised to find the large Hotel Palacio Estoril proudly standing beside the park we were walking through. This is the Hotel featured prominently in the book I was reading. I assumed it was a fictional location but here it was. Later back at our apartment while reading a guide book to Cascais, I found a reference to a famous spy with the codename Tricycle, who was also featured in the book. So my disappointment in the casino was overshadowed by finding all these references to the book

The Hotel Palacio

“Estoril”.

And now armed with correct sufficient change in her purse, Regis was able to catch the train back to Cascais . . . . . but still over 10 km wear on her sneakers . . . .

A Tree decorated with electronics - Art?

Two to Four

Where'd Everyone Go?

It was suggested we call ahead to let the folk at the apartment know when we would be arriving, so once we had our train tickets, we did so. We were informed that it would be better if we caught an earlier train or a much later one, because our arrival, at what we felt was a convenient 2:00 pm, seemed to fall when the reception desk would be closed for a two hour "break". As it happened, we arrived before break time and did get checked in.

I thought this afternoon "siesta" was a Spanish thing. We discovered it in Spain and learned to live with it there, but did not expect it here. Apparently it is a Mediterranean thing.

The whole place shuts down for two hours in the afternoon. Well, not actually everything, but a significant part of the population shuts the doors, pulls down the shutters and turns out the lights at 2:00 pm. At 4:00 pm suddenly everything comes alive again.

We have not quite gotten the hang of this yet, and we always seem to be out looking for something, or wanting something done, when everyone disappears. I have suggested to Regis that we need to start living on "Italian time" while we are here, but she always seem to need something at that time.

I am not sure what everyone does between 2:00 and 4:00. They do not work, that is for sure, perhaps they go home and have a big mid day meal and take a nap or other things you do behind closed doors.

I do not know how this works with people who commute, where do they go for two hours? I'm just going to have to continue to explore this concept. Don't call me for two hours, I'm taking a break.

Back To Spain

 

Portugal is nice, and we are really enjoying our time here, but it was Spain that really got us into this “Rent an apartment for a month” vacation plan, so since we are only an hour from Spain here in Olhão, we decided that one of the day trips that Regis loves to plan would be to take the train to the end of the line in Vila Real de Santo António, where you can catch a ferry across the river to Spain.

Taking the Train

Having taken the train to Tavira the other day, we knew how it worked and approached it with increased confidence, and were able to relax and watch the countryside go by through the tagged and dusty windows. Being able to watch the various train stations come and go was actually kind of sad. The larger stops such as Olhão, Tavira and Vila Real de Santo António are all tagged and looking a bit tattered, with cracked concrete and rusty iron, but many of the stops are closed completely with boarded up doors and windows, broken glass and terribly vandalized by the persistent taggers. The trains stop there, but there is no office, ticket booth or inside waiting area. The train stops, people get on and buy tickets on the train. The trains breezed right by some completely deserted train stops overgrown and crumbling, doors and windows bricked closed.

The train pulled into the station at Vila Real de Santo António, and we headed through an industrial area into a quite nice pedestrian shopping street, five or six blocks long leading down to a lovely riverfront park and Marina where we found the ferry. Regis and Linda made plans to come back across to Portugal with enough time to do some shopping on the way back to the train.

Vila Real de Santo Antonio, Portugal

It is always nice to try to locate the Tourist Information Centre and get a few maps and information on the town you are visiting. We have not had much luck with this so far here in Portugal. There is a good office here in Olhão, but you can never tell when it is going to be open. The posted hours bear no relation to when the office is actually open – you go down and take your chances. In Tavira we finally found the office on the way home, but it was closed tightly. Even though we followed the signs we could not find any hint of an Tourist information Office in Vila Real de Santo António. One helpful fellow gave us nice explicit directions to a building with no apparent information office and at the municipal office I was told that the closest office was in another town back down the track. Across the river in Spain I had no better luck. I followed the nice big signs with clear arrows to where the office was supposed to be, but again nothing there. Perhaps these offices only open when there are more tourists.

The ferry to Spain was a surprise. A few years ago, a beautiful new bridge was built to cross the river so the ferry became a less important way across the river. In North America we are used to modern ferries even on small crossings, but the ferry from Portugal to Spain is a converted wooden freighter. There are metal ramps bolted onto either side and the cargo area has been roofed over providing a spot to park cars. The ferry pulls up alongside the dock, and the ramps allow cars to come and go. Not a lot of cars use the ferry; there was one on the way to Spain and two on the way back. The ferry may be an old converted vessel, but it works well, taking 15 minutes to cross the river, and like most european transportation we have used runs perfectly on time.

Spain

 

We enjoyed going back to Spain, and Ayamonte was a pleasant town with a maze of little streets filled with interesting shops and restaurants. As you wandered through these narrow tiled streets you came to beautiful squares with churches and tiled benches and children running and playing. We knew we were in Spain as all the shops started closing soon after we arrived; displays were moved inside, shutters were lowered, and lights turned off. Fortunate for us, most of the restaurants remained open and we found a place were Regis could get her Paella and tapas.

As we walked back to the ferry, the squares were silent, surrounding shops locked up tight, and the children gone home for a meal and a nap. Ah yes, I had almost forgot about living on Spanish time . . . .