OK, we've made it to Tours. It's amazing how much a trans-Atlantic flight can take out of a family of five... I'm not sure if it's the jetlag, the lack of sleep in the torture chamber plane, or both. Probably both. We've been getting to bed at midnight to 3 am, waking up at 10-11 am, falling asleep at random moments all day, and generally enjoying ourselves.

But here we are, in this beautiful old city on the banks of the Loire River. Bucknell's apartment is big - 3 bedrooms - and recently and tastefully remodeled. The photo is of the river just below our apartment. There is a greenway along it for many miles. People stroll, ride bikes, and swim their dogs (oh, we miss you MacDuff!). Right now I have our fifth floor window open to the river, and I can hear the happy voices of les flâneurs (people strolling), and the wind in the tops of the plane trees.

We feel pinch-me lucky to be here. We've made some forays out into the town. Lucas is the hero of the day, showing himself fearless in his willingness to try to speak French ("Une baguette, s'il vous plait." "Merci!"), and the girls are just drinking it all in.

Our first night here, we went for a walk in the old town, which begins about 100 m from our apartment. We ended up getting dinner in an "Irish pub." The food wasn't all that great, but not having to cook was! Annie, the in-country director of Bucknell en France, had stocked our apartment with some staples. But we wanted to get out a bit, and see the town.