Bus travel has allowed me some  free time to write, as my wife naps beside me.  It’s not like the solace of “My Time,” like I enjoy in my home office.  Here I am surrounded by numerous fellow travelers, some of which I already knew, and some that I have enjoyed getting to know.  I’m glad we decided to invest in this journey.

It’s been Planes, Trains, Automobiles, Boats, Bus, and Blisters.  Typically in retirement I’ve averaged about 12,000 steps a day.  On this trip, it’s been more like 20,000, with a high of 32,000.  With the early morning flights and tour departure times, I have been forced to cut down on my running time in lieu of walking around on my “bloody stumps.”

“My Time” has also been replaced with “Wine Time.”  The French serve wine with breakfast, lunch, and supper.  I didn’t care for white wine on my Wheaties!  Add a cocktail hour, tea time for the British, and a night-cap, and you need some Advil to keep you going in the morning.  Pepcid AC also offsets the acidity of all that wine consumption.

French breads and pastries have been a dietary concern, as well.  I’m pretty sure that all those extra steps aren’t burning off enough calories to make up for the buttery goodness of French cooking.  Plus, my stomach is just as old as I am!

Will I have two desserts tonight?  Hot chocolate in the morning with my croissant?  An extra blueberry muffin? A fancy Liquor for a nightcap?  More sauerkraut?  No Thank You on the sauerkraut.  Oui…on everything else!  I’ll have to step-up the steps!

Unlimited food and drink are the curses of a cruise.  “Would you like to take some back to your stateroom, Monsieur?” “Can I top that off for you?”  Can I call you an ambulance for that heartburn?”  “Or, give you a band-aid for your bloody stumps?”

One last morsel that I just have to mention before I exit the bus today.  I had some laundry done on the boat.  The next night when we opened our stateroom door, there was what I thought was a gift box sitting on our bed.  “Oh look,” I said to my wife, “another nice welcome gift from the captain.”  I opened the wooden box, peeled off the gold seal from the tissue paper wrapping, and was surprised to find…my clean underwear.  Now that’s French service with a step up!