Just a photo and a song

I have no idea when and where I learned this song, but every so often it comes to mind and this time, I felt like recording it.  Enjoy.

Giving thanks

As I was reminded of yesterday, it is good to give thanks.  To take time at the end (or in the middle if possible) of chaos to look for the blessings.  The little things, the big things.  To speak them out, to share the thanksgiving with others whose hearts are also filled with gratitude; to speak the gratitude in faith for those whose hearts are empty in the middle of their chaos.

Today, as I continue to reflect on my crazy week then lovely weekend and now realize that I have not blogged in almost 6 months, I know there are a lot of blessings, some small some big, to publicly share:

• for the reality that when I am empty, there is One who is stronger
• for a summer full of sensational sunsets
• for chances to see a sky full of stars
• for friends who are like family
• for colleagues who are friends
• for good music at every turn
• for prayers, received and given
• for rental cars, hotel rooms and great meals I can expense
• for my own beater car, my own apartment and sandwiches
• for nights sleeping outside
• for massages afterward
• for beaches and bicycles
• for coffee and consignment shops
• for new places to discover and favourite places to introduce to others
• for a completed degree, a timely new job and an upcoming new season of education
• for continued perks of travelling and taking in the beauty of Canada
• for the cuddles of nieces and the high-fives of nephews
• for resolution
• for hope
• for love
• for the reality that it's good to not always be strong and it's good to surrender control

Just a song

Once again, certain songs I'm hearing keep speaking to me.  I thought I'd do my own version of one of them.  Enjoy.

So, about Jesus...

This evening I was trying to explain to myself what it is about living life with Jesus.  I was thinking a little about the various people I used to meet while working with Global Youth Network, who would call themselves "spiritually open" and who wanted to be involved with the organization because we didn't shy away from talking openly about faith.  People always loved hearing one another's "Life Story" while living on a boat in the Amazon, or sitting around campfires in Thailand and I've never had any trouble sharing the parts of mine that include God speaking to me and me choosing to follow His guidance in my life.  But tonight I was thinking about just how does a committed Jesus-follower really present what it's about and why it's so much more than just being "spiritually open". 

I happened to pick up a book I bought well over a year ago that I'd only read a few chapters in and tried to figure out where I was and decided to read the next chapter, titled "Union".  The book is Brennan Manning's The Furious Longing of God.  Perfect chapter for my mullings and here is a quote he included from John McKenzie about Jesus:

We recognize that the person whom we have encountered speaks to our innermost being, supplies our needs, satisfies our desires.  We recognize that this person gives life meaning.  I do not say a new meaning simply, for we realize that before we encountered this person life had no real meaning.  We recognize that this person has revealed to us not only himself, but our own true self as well.  We recognize that we cannot be our own true self except by union with this person.  In him, the obscure is illuminated, the uncertain yields to the certain, insecurity is replaced by a deep sense of security.  In him we find we have achieved an understanding of many things which baffled us.  We recognize in his person strength and power which we can sense passing from him to us.  Most certainly, if most obscurely, we recognize that in this person we have encountered God, and that we shall not encounter God in any other way.

I like this.

Un cuento (A short story)

So just writing that last post made me think of the short story I wrote for one of my Spanish literature courses this term.  I have it in both Spanish and English, but I kind of prefer it in Spanish.  (Although I don't really know how it sounds to a native speaker.  My professor gave me a good mark at least.)  I guess the English wouldn't be so simple if I wrote it in English originally.

The inspiration for this story was from two experiences and two women I met while working with YWAM (one in Vancouver and one in Toronto).  Maybe sometime I will share the real story, but for now, here is my creative version where the two meet (and where I am not exactly a character).
Don't worry, the English translation follows!

¡Qué ejemplo!

     Ella casi no la ve: la mujer encorvada, cubierta de mantas casi parece como un montón de basura apoyándose contra el café. Es una de las noches oscuras y frías de Winnipeg y ella se ha envuelto la cara con una bufanda. Se ensimisma, pensando en el fin de semana pasado cuando alojó en su casa a una joven misionera. Hacía sólo dos meses que había asistido a la iglesia cuando hicieron un anuncio pidiéndole a alguien que proporcionara una habitación por una noche para una oradora invitada, una misionera, así que ofreció su casa. Sabía que no tenía mucho que ofrecer, pero ella podía ofrecerle su cuarto y así ella compartiría con su hija adolescente.
     Ella esperaba que no le importara a la misionera que ella fumaba, que los amigos de su hija fumarían yerba en el balcón, que tenía más gatos de lo que debería. Trataba de hacer algo para cenar, a pesar de que el día sería un día largo de trabajo. Cuando llegó a casa, se dio cuenta que no había tenido tiempo de lavar los platos de ayer, pero no había tiempo para hacerlo ahora ya que había que cocinar algo para la misionera invitada.
      Fue una comida sencilla, la conversación fue ligera y somera. Ella se preguntaba si la misionera estaba satisfecha. Observaba que la misionera parecía incómoda.
      (La misionera era alérgica a los gatos; y tenía una aversión fuerte al desbarajuste. A ella no le molestaba la suciedad en los países en vías de desarrollo, pero ella no podía comprender porque esta mujer canadiense se había ofrecido a hospedarla el fin de semana sin haber limpiado la cama. ¡Qué ejemplo de hospitalidad!)
      Actualmente cuando la mujer hospitalaria camina esas calles de Winnipeg, perdida en estas preocupaciones, se recuerda de algunas palabras que una vez leyó:
      Veía cómo los ricos echaban dinero en el arca de las ofrendas. Vio a una viuda pobre, que echó dos monedas de muy poco valor y dijo:
      — Les aseguro que esta viuda pobre ha echado más que todos los demás. Porque todos los otros echaron como ofrenda lo que les sobraba, mientras que ella, dentro de su necesidad, ha echado todo lo que tenía para vivir.
      La mujer hospitalaria y generosa cruza hacia el montón en la acera, dejar desaparecer su inquietud propia.
      — ¿Puedo invitarle a un café y un sándwich? — pregunta.
      Las dos mujeres se sientan juntas en la acera, se comulgan, comparten historias, comparten sus vidas. Aprenden la una de la otra.
      En el camino de vuelta a su casa desordenada, la mujer hospitalaria reflexiona sobre las palabras de la mujer pobre que llama a las calles, su hogar:
      — Cada mañana me levanto y doy gracias al Creador.
      ¡Qué ejemplo de gratitud!

What an example!

      She almost doesn't see her; the hunched over woman covered in blankets almost looks like a pile of garbage leaning up against the coffee shop. It's one of those dark, cold Winnipeg nights, where she has her own face wrapped up tight in a scarf. She was also lost in her own thoughts, thinking about last weekend when she hosted a young missionary in her home. She had only been going to church for a couple of months when they made an announcement asking for someone to provide a room for one night for a guest speaker missionary so she offered her home. She knew she didn't have much to offer, but she could offer her bedroom and share with her teenage daughter.

      She hoped that the missionary wouldn't mind that she smoked, that her daughter's friends would probably be doing pot on the balcony, that she had more cats than she probably should. She would try to make something for dinner, even though the particular day would be a long one at work. When she got home she realized she hadn't had time to do the dishes from yesterday, but there was no time to do them now—she had to cook something for the missionary guest.

      It was a simple meal, conversation was light and superficial. She wondered if the missionary was happy. She noticed that the missionary seemed uncomfortable.

      (The missionary was allergic to cats; and she had a strong aversion to clutter. Dirt in the developing world didn't bother her, but she couldn't understand why this Canadian woman would offer to put her up for the weekend, but not take the time to clean off the bed! What an example of hospitality?!)

      Now as the woman walks those Winnipeg streets, lost in those worries, she recalls some words she read once:

      Looking up, he saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury. He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins and said, “I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these others gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her need put in all she had to live on.”

      The hospitable and generous woman is now going over to the pile on the sidewalk, leaving her own preoccupation to disappear. “Can I buy you a coffee and sandwich?” she asks. The two women are now sitting together on the sidewalk, communing, sharing stories, sharing lives. Learning from one another.

       On her way back to her disorderly home, the hospitable woman reflects on the words she heard from the poor woman who calls the streets her home: “Every morning I wake up and give thanks to the Creator.”

       What an example of gratitude!

"Paying it Forward"

Since writing my last exam yesterday, I am now officially finished my degree!  This morning, while driving Riley to the dog park, I was conversing with God about this debt I now have and my current lack of full-time employment (I am quickly gathering students for private tutoring, so that is at least something and I am encouraged with how smoothly that is going).  I don't feel anxious or worried; God has always been so faithful to provide.  But I do feel some concern (guilt, maybe?) about this debt that seems to keep growing (and will grow even more to be able to do Teacher's College in September).  And of course, it's Christmas time and I'm thinking about how I can be generous from this place I am at.

At the dog park when I arrived, I got chatting a little with another "regular" who I hadn't seen as much lately.  Just some small talk about the dogs (about a potential pending adoption for Riley!), about Christmas, etc.  After he left, another regular came in who I also hadn't seen in awhile and we chatted a little about my upcoming trip to Chile and about Christmas.  He sounded a little sad and unenthused about the season (which I certainly understand) and as I was getting ready to leave, I felt a strong sense that I should extend an invitation to he and his wife to join my family and I for Christmas dinner.  (I am going to bravely host my family this year.) 

This was sort of interesting because, just last night, my sister-in-law was asking me if she could invite a couple who are new to Canada and who don't really know Christmas celebration traditions.  I didn't jump on the idea and thought that we should check first if our parents would be ok with extending the invitation.  I think too, I was also thinking about how I had just said that my gifts to my family members this year would be the meal and I had that panic thought of, 'Oh more people?!  How can I afford that?!'  I honestly was caught up in these two, sort of selfish I guess, thoughts.

So here I am today, encouraging this retired man and his wife to come over, giving him my number, and not caring about these things.

I walked back to the car with Riley and on my windshield was an envelope.  Capital One.  Strange, are they soliciting people at the dog park?  Then I realized it wasn't sealed.  Inside was a note, from the first "regular" who had left before, that read, "Just paying it forward, this month you seem deserving.  Have a Merry Christmas"  And there was $25 in the envelope.  Wow.

I knew two things for sure.  God is still looking out for my needs (and he can use anyone to bless me).  And it was the right thing to extend hospitality to that older man (and in turn, for my sister-in-law, to the other couple).  I ran back to the dog park and asked the man for their number, so that I could make sure to call and remind them of the invitation.  I still need to call my sis-in-law back.

Longing

As a child struggles to sleep on the eve of Christmas
While oppressed Israel lives for the Messiah's birth

As a family rounds the finish line of the third trimester
While a couple hopes to just make it past the first

As a groom looks for his bride to walk the aisle toward him
While a woman still dreams of ever one day being a bride

A world waits with expectant hope
While a world clings to promises, longing.

Little thanksgivings

There were lots of things to smile at today.  Lots to whisper thanks over.  The buses came just as I approached the stops.  This morning's test was hard, but I finished it feeling satisfied and pleased over the realization that I actually had learned things (yay Spanish vocabulary, grammar and literary movements).  Had a nice, easy-going, social break between classes--didn't need to cram in another thing to read.  Class lectures were light and enjoyable; got let out early.  Had a test to make up after having been sick last week and the prof just let me take it home!  Had time to get some groceries.  (Yes, that is seriously something to be thankful for.  Empty fridge.)  Mayonnaise and peanut butter were on sale!!  (I'd been waiting for awhile.)  Came home to a yummy cornish hen perfectly cooked in sage and wine in the crockpot.  Booked reward flights to Buenos Aires and Santiago for a spontaneous mid-winter vacation with family!

Insights from Dog Walking - crosspost

So, as promised, here is the blog submission to the Firebowl that I wrote recently.  There's my version of a song too--the song most "on repeat" these days.

Today's soundtrack

Well obviously I have seriously neglected this blog this year!  I see here that I promised to post photos of my Alberta trip in the spring, so yes, I should do that....

I wrote a little reflection for the The Firebowl community blog on the weekend (stay tuned) on the topic of "letting go"--apparently I am a little more inspired lately.  Well, I certainly am making a lot more time to listen.

Those who know me well, know that music has always been an important medium of expression for me.  Lately there's been a sort of dialogue going on between God and I through music, a sort of soundtrack to today.  I'm discovering songs and they're really reaching into me.  (One of them I recorded for the Firebowl blog entry...)  I also love to share music, so...here you go.  (Mostly courtesy of YouTube.)  Also, once again I highly recommend Under the Radar, whose podcasts are so great and have introduced me to a lot of great music.)

"Free"
"...My strength alone will never be enough, but Your arms keep lifting me up.  You tell me I've been made free.  You give me everything I need to walk in my dreams..."
"Steady My Heart"
"...You're here, You're real, I know I can trust You...I'm not gonna worry, I know that You've got me right inside the palm of Your hand..."
"Pour Out"
"...Your words are a lamp unto my feet when I walk down these dark and lonely streets.  You are all I need."
"Called Me Higher"
"I could hold on to who I am and never let You change me from the inside...I could be safe here in Your arms and never leave home, never let these walls down.  But You have called me higher, You have called me deeper and I will go where You lead me, Lord."
"All the Way My Saviour Leads Me"
"...Can I doubt His faithful mercies?
Who through life has been my guide
Heavenly peace, divinest comfort
Ere by faith in Him to dwell
For I know whate'er fall me
Jesus doeth all things well."
"I Will Trust You"
"I know Your heart is good, Your love is strong, Your plans for me are better than my own and I trust You."
"To Those Who Wait"
"You say You’re good to those who wait...You can do more in my waiting than in my doing I could do..."
"Dawn to Dusk"
"Tomorrow's freedom is today's surrender..."

And ANOTHER one from All Sons and Daughters...my current alarm clock song...
"Wake Up"
"Here we stand, our hearts are Yours.  Not our will, but Yours be done."

Nudgings and choices in faith

This post is just a link to my contribution at the Firebowl communal blog.  It is indeed kind of neat how, being asked to reflect on a topic (last month, "Joy") and reading others' reflections can serve and minister to my own heart.  If you haven't already, take a read.

(Expect some awe-inspiring photos to be posted soon!  Just got back from six days in Alberta!)

Openness and Trust

French Pop Culture: Old Cartoons!

I've been realizing just how many of the cartoon characters that I was into as a kid, whether from books or tv, are French!  When I arrived here in September, I saw ads for the Tintin movie and was excited to see it since I remember reading all the Tintin books (in English) I could get my hands on from the public library as a kid.  Well, I have learned that books like these are called "albums"

at the Marché de Noël

 and there are tons of them from all kinds of series and I want to buy so many and bring so many home (stupid baggage allowance)!  There is currently a "Marché de Noël" in Tours, where they sell hot wine with cinnamon (instead of apple cider like we have in Canada), crepes, arts and crafts AND there is a stall of used books where there are tons of these "albums".  Of course the popular Asterix (I never did get into that one as a kid, although I tried), Boule and Bill, but I also saw Babar the elephant who I remember reading at my Great Aunt and Uncle's when I was little, but who I didn't realize, was French!

I also had an epiphany that the Barbapapas are French too!  I don't know from where exactly, but I have a very faint memory of the Barbapapas...not sure if it was books or the tv show, but they were great how they could change into any shape as needed.  And, now having learned more French, I realize that Barbe à Papa, mean's "Dad's beard" which also means, "Cotton Candy" or "Candy Floss"!

Sept. @ a Festival with some Barbe à Papa

The other day, my housemate, her daughter and her daughter's little friend (they are 5) got singing children's French songs and then ended up searching on YouTube for the "générique", or theme song, for various cartoons.  I noticed, first of all that these cartoons seemed from the 70s or 80s and was amazed that these little girls knew them so well.  So I am kind of excited to discover these little gems from "my generation" that still have a place in today's culture in France.

It is interesting too, because the three "dessins animés" that they wanted to find and sing along to are of the old Japanese animated cartoon style, like my old favourites of Astro Boy and even Inspector Gadget, although I think these ones are even older!  I definitely had never heard of "Au Pays du Candy", or "Tom Sawyer" or "Heidi", but it is so cute that they are such seemingly cultural staples here, amongst all of the other cool cartoons and cartoon books.  (The lyrics of the theme songs are cute too.)

 

 

Road Trip Day 7, Final Day: Return to Tours via Carcassonne

Tuesday, November 1 is Toussaint holiday, or All Saints Day in France and Spain and it was my last day of holidays before having to go back to school, so that day we basically just drove back to Tours.  Alanna had noticed that the town of Carcassonne was somewhat en route, and since we both had heard of this place because of the board game of the same name (one of those German board games), we were intrigued.  Once again, we turned to Rick Steves for an excellent tour description and we really enjoyed this amazing old, fortressed town.

Definitely take a read of the google link there about the town.  Note, that the ss are pronounced as "s", not as "z".  There is a folk story that tells of a woman named Carcas who, when the city was under siege,  threw a pig over the wall causing the attackers to assume that the city still had enough supplies (or else why would they waste a pig?) and that there was no way that they'd be able to win so they gave up and left.  Then the city sounded the bells, from which "son" came and from the two, Carcas-son, came the name.  Apparently. 
Here is a statue of the lady right beside the drawbridge!







Not a lot to say, just a lot of pictures to post again!

Rick informed us that we could see red bricks that are remnants from the original wall from Roman days.  (See next picture.)  This was consistent with what I had learned in my History of Tours class, since there are remnants of a Roman amphitheatre in Tours, and there is a noticeable difference between Roman-built walls and walls built in the Middle Ages.  At Carcassonne, the second wall was added in the Middle Ages.
(These next photos are credit to Judy again because my camera battery died again at this point.)

We enjoyed some regional food at a restaurant within the walls and then realized we were kind of behind again and still had a long way to drive!  (Behold the map!)

At some point when we were supposed to switch onto another autoroute, I missed the entrance and the GPS (who we had named Ginger P. Sky by this point--and had her becoming the petite-copine of Rick Steves) recalculated.  We just followed along this new route and well, it was VERY dark and VERY windy (as in, winding around)!  We were still a couple of hours south of Tours and, although I have no idea what roads we were on and what dark villages (small-town France is very quiet after 19:00) we went through, we never actually lost any time!  Good ol' Ginger.

And thus concludes the Road Trip adventure.  The next day, I went back to school (starting with another lesson out on the streets about Tours' history) and my friends went shopping!  I ordered some escargots at dinner for them to taste and the following day, we had a little adventure on the Tours bus in the rain, searching for some final French wares for them.

Amazing that a month has passed already and I have since visited another castle near Tours; wandered around a nearby village, some vineyards and a wine cave; learned lots more neat things about Tours' history; had a couple of tests and a class presentation on the ban on Muslim women wearing integral veils (I forget what we would say in English instead of "integral"); ate a French seafood platter (apparently this is a thing one must do); went skating and ate some Lebanese mezzés (that was last night); and, travelled to Switzerland and had an amazing time visiting some old friends!

So there are obviously photos to share and things to write, but well, I have been seriously procrastinating studying for my upcoming exams (three next week), researching for two upcoming presentations and other homework.  So those posts will come another day.

Road Trip Day 6: Barcelona

For my program at Wilfrid Laurier University, I had to take a course on cultural aspects of France, Spain and Germany and from this class, I learned some about Barcelona and Catalonia.  In particular, I learned a lot about the 19th-20th century architect Antoni Gaudí and had seen a lot of pictures of his unique works in Barcelona.  So I recommended to the gals that we check out at least two of them: Parc Güell and Sagrada Família and on Monday morning we set out to find our way into the city by commuter train from our suburb.  Before that though, I wanted to re-park.  The night before had been a little stressful trying to fit into tight spaces in the underground lot.  It had been impossible in fact, so I made up a space.  Fortunately, there was a new one open that I could take Monday morning.  Phew, European parking--stresses me out a bit even to write about it!

We found the back entrance to Parc Güell, which demanded a very long and steep climb.  There were escalators, but my companions preferred the stairs (I did a combination, preferring not to start my day off all sweaty :) and I am certain they are in better shape than I!)  This picture kind of shows the height and the steepness.








The park was what I expected, but the crowds were insane and we found ourselves not enjoying this introduction to Barcelona.

But it is quite pretty and unique.

Sitting on the cold benches and taking photos of the mosaic was kind of fun

 We found as quiet of a way possible out of the park and wandered some streets.  We noticed some graffiti in Catalan that seemed a little angry at tourists and maybe just at everything.  (Interesting that both places we visited in Spain are not historically Spanish--Catalonia, like Vasco, having a history and story of its own.)

Back on a more main road, we saw loads of tourists again, including people riding double-decker tourist buses.  It was a good reminder of how much I preferred our methods of touring.  We carried on in search of the famous, unfinished cathedral, the Sagrada Familia.  Gaudí certainly had lofty ambitions in designing this church--it is so big and sooo different.

The back

The front

The lines to go inside were too long for us, so our next destination was the famous Las Ramblas, basically a long walkway of open-air markets and such.  We went to the waterfront (after reaching the Atlantic the day before, we needed to get to the Mediterranean) where we chose somewhere to eat--a Chinese restaurant!  (There weren't a lot of affordable options and we did manage to try some tapas later that evening.)

See, more crowds!

This is the Catalonia flag

We tired of Las Ramblas and went in search of the Gothic Quarter of the city.  We heard a commotion a little ways off and saw lots of yellow shirts and as we approached, we realized that a flash mob had broken out.  I tried catching some on video.

In wandering around the Gothic Quarter, we didn't do much except a little shopping, watched some kids dressed up for Halloween and I messed around with my night time photography of the Barcelona Cathedral.

All in all, a successful day--a whirlwind tour again of a major tourist destination, but I think we were all satisfied with the taste of Barcelona we experienced.  Did you notice, there was no driving this day?!

Road Trip Day 5: Pays Basque/Pais Vasco and the Pyrenées

Sunday morning, we got up confused!  The alarm on my iPod seemed to have sounded an hour later than I set it for, but when I looked at it, it DID say 7:00.  Judy's watch said 8:00.  So we turned on the tv in the hotel room and it also said 7:00.  So I started thinking, did we drive across a time zone last night?!  Then someone suggested (I think it was Mel, clever girl) that the clocks must have gone back--it was the last weekend in October after all.  So that made sense and we carried on (although, I would find myself confused again later that evening).

We got up ready for another full day in the car, but we were anticipating some extreme beauty.  A month before, when this idea for the road trip came up, I had googled "driving in Europe" and found some recommended places at this Guardian newspaper link that had one recommended drive that could work for us: Basque Country.  Doing some reading in Rick Steves' again (this time, since Basque is in both countries, we had to read both the French book and the Spain book that Judy brought, although the Spain book wasn't a Rick Steves book and just wasn't the same), we learned that the people from Basque speak a language called Euskara and that this language is unique without any connection to any other languages (it is not a latin language, for example, like the French and Spanish that surround its speakers)!  Very interesting.  Euskara has a lot of k's and z's and here is a bilingual sign at the beach in San Sebastián.

We were not disappointed with the drive and before we arrived to our lunch destination of San Sebastián, we discovered the beauty that is Biarritz, in French Basque.

 This photo does not do justice to the amazing view of the ocean and the Pyrenées.  We decided that we would try to get to the beach and we did!  Amazing...I was suddenly quite overdressed!

We started up really high and then made our way down.  The waves were incredible and mesmerizing.  Some absolutely monstrous and killer waves.  I tried making a video...

 We continued on in search of Spain!  We arrived, but we don't know exactly when since there was no welcoming sign.  We were following signs for San Sebastián, or "Donostia" as it seemed to be called in Euskara and at some point we noticed that there was no more French.  San Sebastián was also gorgeous: we passed through the city centre quickly in search again of the beach, but both were beautiful.  We reached our goal for lunch, but since it was a Sunday, it was hard to find anything open and we ended up only finding a döner place...really cool ordering shawarmas from a Turkish guy in Spanish Basque...he seemed to speak a zillion languages!

This is a creative shot by Judy...some girls were just wandering the streets on their own, eating ice cream

We still had a long drive ahead to make it just west of Barcelona for the night, but a beautiful drive!  Albeit, kind of scary with speeds of 100 km/h through the Pyrenées!  Since I was driving, these following shots are courtesy of Mel.

Photo Credit: Mel Horst

Once out of the mountains, things were a lot more barren and not so photogenic, but as the day passed on, it got pretty again.

Nice shot, Mel!

The time confusion came up again at this point, when we found ourselves crossing the Greenwich (Prime) Meridian that evening.  There was a digital clock posted after we crossed it that had us all of

sudden an hour ahead of where we had just been!  Then a few kms later, there was another clock that had us an hour behind again!  This happened a couple of times and was very confusing!

When we finally arrived to the hotel in Rubí, a sort of suburb city to Barcelona, we were still in the time zone we left in Bordeaux that morning and the clock change theory had stuck.  (It was confusing too, because in North America, the clocks didn't end up going "back" until a couple of weekends later.)  How does an iPod know, by the way?  It's the most amazing thing to me.  When I walk around in Tours, the map application is able to locate me sometimes too!  (I'm not connected to anything, so it blows my mind.  Most amazing prize that I won...the dictionary apps that I bought have been such lifesavers too!)

Here is our day's long, but beautiful route.