Get on the bus. Gus.

pointinghous frederick

Our original plans were to leave Europe on Monday morning.  The earliest we could try to get out, would have been Sunday.  So we have opted to stay with our predesignated flights.

Working through details in all of this, with limited voice and data connections has been tedious, strenuous.

So. We are trying to roll along with things as best we can.

That included an early start today.  And more than a 6 1/2 hour bus ride, first to Luxembourg and then to Paris.

Our first stop was a cemetery.  Great.
However, it was the Luxembourg American Cemetery and Memorial.  It is the resting place of 5,076 American Soldiers, and 371 Missing in Action Memorials.   The grounds cover more than  50 acres.  General George S. Patton is buried here  as well.   Most of these soldiers lost their lives during the Battle of the Bulge in WWII.  In fact, more than 1.3 million soldiers fought in that battle, and over 48,000 lives were lost in all.  (This was over a period of four months.)

Devastating.  Sad.  Unbelievable.  Overwhelming.

And after that tour, we took another walk around the main city.  It was full of good spendor.

From there we simply drove from Luxembourg to Paris, with one “Rest Stop” in  between.

Now.  If I may.  The facilities were Unisex.  No big deal.  The number of people coming through this rest stop is extremely high.  And each one of those individuals certainly consumed more liters of liquid than anywhere else in all of Europe.

The stalls are rickety and difficult to latch.  Again, no big deal.  There are no seats on the toilets.  This is not a problem for male pee-ers.  For females, the artful ability of squatting and peeing is helpful.   Again, not a problem, especially for the young and fit.

But, the smell is staggering.  Like the world’s largest kitty box, times 100.    I have no more nostril hairs to speak of.  Check off, yet another loss, during the Great Euro Trip of 2016.

We finally got to Paris after 6 p.m. This is where the French speak French.  And don’t your forget it.

Dinner was in order, and we found a small Parisian Restaurant.  My sister-in-law had a hankering for a well-done hamburger.  Apparently we have a language barrier, as they kept bring out a live cow in between those two hamburger buns.  She finally gave up.