The Bells

I love many aspects of this place, but the hearing the bells of the old churches holds a special place. I don't know why, I'm not very religious, but there is something soothing and haunting at the same time to think that men and women for hundreds of years have heard these bells ring, their sounds carried across the rooftops of the old city. What did those people think of the bells? Were they a symbol of a church that dominated their lives? Did they represent their connection to the divine? Or do they hear them as I hear them now, bells that count the hours of our lives and mark our journey day-to-day through this life?

France: Day 1

02/12/2013- 9:42am Paris, Charles de Gaulle Airport

I made it, I'm really here in France! It's almost surreal, but my horrid smell (a mix of body odor, stale air, and rotting food) reminds me it's all real. Although the stench may be weird, the flight wasn't bad: sat next to a nice, older Italian couple, watched "Argo" and "House", and got a couple of hours of sleep. Charles de Gaulle Airport is pretty standard, except it was a somewhat of a pain to find the baggage claim area. Now I'm waiting for my TGV (highspeed train running through France) to Strasbourg. 

02/12/2013-1:55pm Strasbourg, Vosges Apartment

Dr. Manheim got me at the train station. The TGV was great: smooth, comfortable, and I decided to get my first (mini) bottle of wine on the dining car: a nice Merlot-Cabernet.