Joanie on the Pony. That was what we nickname crazy Americans called the statute of Jean D'Arc, the savior of Orleans, born 600 years ago. But it was a kindly tease. As military folk, we all respected her valor.
We also loved her beautiful city, the Valley of the Loire location, and the proximity to Paris, 80 miles to the north.
We moved from La Rochelle to Orleans in the summer of 1962, and again, lodged in a hotel until our house became available. The hotel was larger and grander than our little hotel in La Rochelle, and it was right on the Loire river.
One of my friends' family lived 'on the economy' in a rented chateau. I was so envious!! Even though I knew they had no central heating and bad plumbing, I implored my parents to do the same. Even at that age, I was a romantic, and loved wandering through the grounds of their small estate. But alas, my mom preferred the comforts of a 'modern' house.
She did have a feel for French style, though, and dressed me up a bit now and then.
My everday life was pretty ordinary, consisting of school, climbing trees, and riding bikes. We had no television, only radio. But vacation time was when my restless father took us on the road. We traveled to Spain, Germany, Belgium, Holland, Normandy, and all over France, in our little Renault Dauphine.
Alas, but 95% of our photos from that time are on slides, so I can't show them to you. But here are a few of the mental pictures:
Driving past an orchard in Spain, glazed by an ice storm, lit pink in the morning sun.
Riding a tram to the ski slopes in Garmisch, Germany, near Lake Eibsee.
Christmas day in an ancient hilltop Roman monastery turned restaurant near Madrid, feasting on a banquet of paella and white asparagus.
Writing my name in pencil on the Eiffel Tower, and feeding pigeons at its base.
Eating rabbit for the first time at our pension in the southern French resort town of Biarritz, and glace (ice cream) on it boardwalk.
Coming up, buying crystals and cheese in Paris.
