The Babes on the Bus Bond in France

by Heather Resnick

Passion. Pride. Party. It was Paris.

The riverboat turned under the Alexander Bridge in the velvet blackness of a perfect Parisian night to offer its passengers a glorious, gleaming gold view of the giant structure that defines Paris, the Eiffel Tower. Spirits were high both on and off the boat. For the 16 of us Canadian women on board, (also known as The Babes on the Bus), it was a celebration of our country's 139th birthday and the excitement of being in the vibrant city of Paris. For the French citizens and the thousands of tourists and students from abroad it was the winning of the World Cup 2006 Quarter Final 1-0 against Brazil. The atmosphere was wild and exciting on the streets, on the bridge, on the river.

We were awestruck at the opulence of the grandiose buildings along the river's bank, now protected as an UNESCO Heritage Site - such as The Louvre (of The Da Vinci Code fame), the Arc de Triomphe, the Palais de Justice, Notre Dame, La Sorbonne. Their massive, stark silhouettes illuminated the summer sky with hints of history and mystery.

The named Canadian Bar along the Seine River pulsated with Canadian patrons draped in their flag, cheering for France. Some of the more adventurous among us, forty-plus years women, feeling free and frivolous, went back after the river tour to party with our younger Canadian compatriots until 2:30 a.m. And so, marked the last leg of our glorious trip to France.

The Babes, originally ten in Italy in 2004, (ee previous adventure Babes on the Bus Do It Italian Style) were unfortunately, reduced to seven and then expanded to sixteen. When the ten of us went to Italy two years ago, we got along so well, that we decided to make biennial trips abroad together. France was the majority choice. Under the guidance of our fearless, yet experienced and compassionate leader Debbie Ross, owner of the Women's Travel Network, we set off to France, thrilled to partake in such a privileged excursion.

Our journey began under the azure skies of Provence. Many chirping cicadas (or crick-ets) revered by the southern French as good luck symbols and immortalized in everything from tableware to souveniors provided us with an incessant symphony of maracas. Denise Küppers, the owner, graciously welcomed us at her Hotel Sous les Figuiers in St. Remy. It would be our home for the week. Starving and tired after a long, over-night plane trip from Toronto - Paris - Marseilles and hour long bus ride, a fabulous lunch awaited us outside this charming, peaceful (yet five-minute walk from the heart of the town) bed and breakfast, under the shade of the brambleberry (aka blackberry) and fig trees. Sandwiches on crusty, whole grain French bread and luscious, juicy and sweet Cavaillon melons put what we know as cantaloupes to shame and, of course, wine. We were happy campers.

Provencal food was a wonderful culinary experience. We eagerly anticipated the bread-man's arrival each morning as his crusty loaves peered out from the top of his sack. Crispy, buttery croissants, dense, dark multigrain bread and of course the famous French stick graced our breakfast tables with homemade jams, tangy cultured yogurt and soup bowls filled with fresh coffee. Enough to ensure that we would by hyped for the daily adventures to the surrounding famed places, provided to us courtesy of our private bus, kind and gentle driver and elegant guide. It was a treat to eat in the serenity and nature of the front garden along with the ants.

Market day in St. Remy was a cornucopia of not just the bounty of the land but all things women consumers could wish for - shoes, jewellery, hats, purses, couture. A shopper's paradise. It was however, a cruel awakening to discover that a size XXL would only fit over one leg or arm. It really meant that you were a size 6. A size very few of us could brag about.

Shopping was a major preoccupation for our group. Our guide would joke that after we had seen the obligatory sites she would set us free! After a hard morning of shopping at the market, in typical Mediterranean fashion we created a feast for us Goddesses - a delightful picnic in the hotel garden with a chunk of fresh, mild cheese oozing under the hot sun, hunks of crunchy, chewy bread, zesty, piquant tapenades, mouth-watering melon, sweet cherries and fine, young, crispy green beans. No French lunch would be complete without the drink of choice, Rosé wine!

Along with the abundance of fresh fruit and vegetables, we discovered the multi purposes of olive oil ranging from soaps, to solving elimination problems and the most astounding use was in the making of ice cream. The latter was an acquired taste which most of us had not yet acquired. It was better than eating a cockroach, so graphically described to us by a pastry chef. She was explaining how food comes with cultural perceptions. She was in Asia and her friend from there encouraged her to try one, which is considered a delicacy and fondly enjoyed by children. After observing the happy children down the crunchy, critter she bravely capitulated. An experience, but not one she would repeat too soon.

Paris food was disappointing and quickly dispelled the myth of being the best food in Europe. Sixteen exuberant Canadian women proved a daunting task for the wait staff and their disapproval bore on their faces. But, what about women traveling together? Is that a daunting task? Certainly, it is an exercise in, compromise, improvise and humor. The travelers must prepare in their minds to act accordingly. The leader must use finesse. Debbie used her tactful skills to redirect our focus on the positive if a problem arose, which rarely happened. Women we met, either locals or tourists gave us the thumbs up that we were traveling without male companions!

"Is it different to travel with only women", I was asked.

"Absolutely" I declared. A bonding happens because we share common interests in the place we have chosen to travel. Shopping is a feminine trait that does not go as well when there are men in the picture. Seven of us decided to stay in Paris for an extra two days. Five of us wanted to go to the Palace of Versailles. Walking towards the Palace one of the women tripped scrapping her knee and breaking her favorite pair of sandals. Insisting that it would be okay, the rest of us told her it would be ridiculous to try to walk in them. Running into the Tourist Centre, we inquired as to the nearest shoe store. Once there, the woman who broke her sandals bought three pairs of sandals and following the female primeval instinct to gather things and bond, four of us bought sandals. Shoe shopping in France appears to be a national pastime!

Just as their first trip to Disneyland excites children, we were equally thrilled by the fields of brilliant sunflowers that we explored and photographed. It was amusing to see each sunflower facing exactly the same way - towards the sun, standing erect like soldiers guarding the field. When we drove by different fields later on, they were facing the other way. Roving purple fields of sweetly scented lavender also took our breath away as we pondered the gifts of nature.

We respectfully grazed our hands over historical monuments and buildings with reverence and in awe that things so ancient could still be present, and so large it is unbelievable how they could have been constructed in times when technology was basic and minimal.

We admired the art of Cezanne shown in a most unique, ingenious way - on massive, dark and steep old quarry walls, through projected images at the Cathedrale d'Images outside the ancient, fortified village of Les Baux de Provence. Art cannot get stolen or damaged there is no storage, repairs or wall space problems, yet there was the art for all to enjoy. As the images rotated with classical music playing in the background, we were impressed with Cezanne's range, quantity and quality of work. We respected why the French celebrate him and recognized that he had contributed much to the world of art and our visual pleasure.

We loved the quaint towns with cobblestones and tiny ancient storefronts. We inhaled the intoxicating smell of fresh bread and pastries and enjoyed the casual atmosphere of the outdoor cafés. The history of the Provencal fabric was fascinating. Wonderful singing, dancing, spectacular costumes and comedy thoroughly entertained us at the infamous Moulin Rouge. We thought the topless women (who jiggle even if they are small, we imagined how much more we would jiggle) were gratuitous, since there were no bottomless men!

The hotel rooms in Paris were very tiny for two. Realizing there was nothing to do but make the best of it; we rearranged some of the furniture to make it livable. Ingenious places were discovered to hang hand washed underwear because there were no bathroom lines, towel bars, and shelves. That is a woman - thing. Right?

Would a man have enjoyed these things or considered them in the same way? It is not an answer, but simply a question.

Then there is the let your hair down attitude. It seems that we tend to be more raucous and silly as a group of women, than would happen if men were present. Silly or just plan having fun happened quite a lot, since we allowed our minds to be free of home stresses and enjoy the special moments. There were many hysterical moments to savor. One evening after our 'dessert dinner' when we thought we were going to be served appetizers enough to satisfy our hunger, but instead were just offered tiny morsels of different sweet pastries and wine that went on for several hours. We needed to eat real food, badly. We trekked off to a local café amidst stares and glares of customers who were shocked to see a whole troupe of women descend upon them. We were noisy, giggling and talking. Our behavior extracted dirty looks.

In our hunger delirium, as we waited for our food, we chortled, about things like me trying to exchange my 500 euro note, (I had not gotten to my bank in time to get smaller bills, - and they need five days notice to purchase euros). I hoped that the local bank would not give me trouble about exchanging it for smaller bills. One woman suggested that I hand them a note explaining what I needed. I joked that they would think I was robbing them. "It is like reverse robbing. I could hand them the 500-euro and say "Give me twenties or else". Our laughter was from the belly. The kind that is good for your health, but detrimental for your international reputation.

Cooking class also prompted us to laugh until we cried. Wrapping a bunch of asparagus with string for some of us presented a monumental challenge. Asparagus went flying and fingers were being strung. Some of the less domestic divas were baffled over shelling peas.

Traveling the underground subway and Metro in Paris looking for the rich, historical Jewish quarter called Le Marais (also known for its trendy fashion stores and Gay nightlife) and getting lost prompted fits of laughter. We were told that you can travel anywhere on the underground on one ticket. That is of course if you do not get out of the system. You could spend all day down there going back and forth on the different lines. Crowded and hot at all times of the day, we felt as though we were in Toronto. Unlike Toronto, their were few to no stores to browse in.

Friendship, food, fun, fantasy, fuelled our days in France. As long as the sun was shining, the intense heat could not deter us from those goals.

Our lives are fleeting moments. At the end of the day, all we have to cherish are precious memories. As we view our photographs, paraphernalia and read our diaries, we can relive those very magic moments. We are fortunate and privileged to have had the opportunity to experience a trip of a lifetime. As long as we have our health and are financially able The Babes will travel. Read about their next adventure as they explore the land of democracy, Greece.

Heather Resnick is author of the powerful, practical and inspiring self-empowerment book Women Reworked Empowering Women in Employment Transition. Visit her web-site at WomenReworked.com or contact her at hrighter@rogers.com

Debbie Ross is the owner, travel agent and group leader of The Women's Travel Network. To view the myriad of trips she is organizing, see photos of past trips or subscribe to her newsletter go to WomensTravelNetwork.ca or contact her at info@womenstravelnetwork.ca

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