X + Y = Z!

The Carrefour Market has been my savior. Allowing me to buy €10 worth of food that supplies me with one meal (sandwich!) and parts of other meals. (chips and fruit and cookie things).

So like one and two two-thirds of a meal. Which is 1 and 4/3, which by my high school algebra, one converts to 3/3, and add 4/3 which is 7/3 or 2 and 1/3 meal. So it's better than €5 a meal, which ain't too bad.

Huh? I'm doing math on vacation? This ain't no vacation, if it were I'd go to the beach for a month and snooze on the sand (ignore the fact that I'm at the beach now).

This is an adventure. A third of the time I'm planning my next move. A third if the time I'm obsessively packing my belongings for the move.

And the rest of the time? I'm trekking from spot to spot determining the best camera angle and extending my tripod fully (It takes 20 seconds to do that. Yes I timed myself, haha), securing my camera on it, and taking seven to ten HDR photos of each scene. Repeat a few hundred times for each castle / tomb / abbey / natural cave / etc and you end up with one exhausted Paul. But it's worth it. That's why I'm here!

That's half the reason for this trip.


It's freaking work, but it's work I enjoy. You might say I'm compulsive about it. But there's only one Europe and my time here is limited. Take the photos as they come. I've never seen places like this before..


And when I get tired I sleep in, book a place for myself and just be. I put my camera away and just let life breathe.


Saint Malo is beautiful. The first day I walked on the beach, leaving my camera in my room. I'm glad I did.

I am so much more flexible, so free and mobile without this huge four-pound tripod haha. But I did it for a reason. Walk, enjoy, dance. Tomorrow I'll come back and know what to take pics of. Scouting, haha.


I walked on the sand, around the rocks, down to the fort, and around the fortified town. Up stairs, down alleys, through stores. I saw a pastry -it looked like a jelly-donut type thing with sugary "pancake" sandwiches. Haha or something. I went inside and pronounced (horribly, I might add) the name on the sign. 

She asked, "Le crepe?"

"I am not," I say. Oh the dessert is called a crepe, duh. I gave her the appropriate Euro. She gave me change. "Merci," I said. You don't need to know many words to get by. I found that infinitely satisfying.


I walked outside and walked in the medieval-like town, adorned now with perfume shops and automobiles and hotels with old-style architecture.

I ate my crepe as I toured the past converging with the present.

The sun was my friend. The crepe was delicious. I am in France!

Now this. Is a vacation. :)