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I don't know anyone who actually enjoys going to the dentist. Even for that brief, squeaky-clean feeling you get after an hour of mild torture getting your teeth cleaned. But if you add the sun, the sea, ancient ruins and prices that will cause American dentists to drop their drills, getting your dental work done in Malta might just become tolerable.

NOTE: This blog is going back to last August as we were nearing the finish of Senior Nomads Round II. Many things have happened since then - some I have written about, but I didn't want this important part of our journey to go undocumented! After our family gathering in Brittany last August, Michael and I had an additional week to spend with our 35 year old daughter Kelly. We had nostalgic visions of a pleasant family road trip along the coast of France to visit the World War II sites.  Memory has a way of blurring the bad bits, and if we all admit it, there were really very few pleasant family road trips.  Oh, there might have been moments where everyone was playing "Slug Bug" or telling fart jokes, or sleeping (not the driver of course), but road trips with our young children were taken well ahead of minivans with movies or the current device-for-every-child trend. Let's just say we went back in time 25 years and Michael snapped more than once "Listen you two" (that would be Kelly and I) "If I have to pull over you won't like the consequences!"

Our plans included a drive along the coast to the medieval city of Dinan with a three night stay in a converted barn in the nearby village of Pleudihen sur Rance. That would be base camp for day trips to St. Malo and and St. Michele before making our way to Caen for two nights. From there we would explore the World War II memorials and D-Day beaches.

With Kelly and I both glued to our iPhones using separate GPS map programs  set to navigate the French countryside we hit the road.  Of course we had conflicting ideas on the perfect route, and that led to some "my way is better than your way" moments - but our trusty driver reached back to early parenting skills and got the job done despite our squabbling. For all future travel after day one we designated Kelly as the official navigator. My job was to provide snacks, enjoy the scenery and do my best to stay out of any negotiations around how to find a small farmhouse in the dark in the dense Normandy countryside. Ommmm. Here's a link to our farmhouse airbnb: https://www.airbnb.com.mt/users/show/10580871

My mistake was not stocking up on snacks and basics for our first night before leaving Quiberon Sunday morning. I knew better - I guess I just got flustered around three families heading in four directions and did they have snacks? A rookie mistake for  this Senior Nomad. In France, especially outside of big cities, large grocery stores are only open until 1:00 if at all, and restaurants and other shops are definitely closed. We had a hard time finding lunch on the road, but finally diverted into a very small village and thankfully found a bar serving sandwiches. And an an amazing 16th century cathederal.
Our rural retreat was cozy and it came with a friendly goat  pegged to a tether just outside our door. Our host kindly provided a bottle of local cider and breakfast fixings, and we dined on crepes for dinner at the only restaurant that was open in the tiny village. The place was packed of course, so that made for great atmosphere, and luckily the food was outstanding. All in all, a good day.

Early the next morning I walked a mile into the village and bought proper travel snacks for the day's journey. We were headed to Dinan, but because our host suggested a side trip we discovered the picture-perfect village of Saint-Suliac. We would have missed this harbor-side village otherwise, and it was very special. It is rated as a Beau Village of France (a top honor for the most beautiful villages in the country) and the designation was well deserved.

After a full compliment of pastries (over and above car snacks) we were on to Dinan where we explored the castle and the winding narrow streets of the old town. The waddle and daub houses leaned precariously over the lanes and you could truly picture life here three hundred years ago. Luckily you didn't have to smell life 300 years ago since waste of every kind was tossed to the street with a shout of something like "incoming".  Instead you can buy expensive souvenirs and in our case, have ice cream for lunch.

The next day we headed to St. Malo. If you've read the popular book All the Light we Cannot See
you'll know a majority of the book takes place there. With every twist and turn within the city I could experience that amazing narrative. After a "back to reality" pizza lunch we headed to St. Michele - the iconic monastery that sits off shore and is it's own majestic city on a rock.

We witnessed pilgrims wading knee deep in the slurping sand to reach the island from shore (we chose the brand new bridge). Inside the gates we pushed through the gauntlet of tourist traps and souvenir shops. Once we broke free and wound up the many, many stairs to the monastery at the top we were rewarded with an amazing vista across miles of sand and sea. Unfortunately we had arrived too late to tour the monastery itself, but we'd had such a rewarding day with a minimum of car wars that we treated ourselves to another lovely crepe dinner.

In anticipation of our visit to Omaha Beach, we re-watched the movie Saving Private Ryan. It had been many years since we'd seen it, and Kelly had never seen it. It was difficult to sits through the horrific opening scenes of the D-Day landings, but it set us up for the next two days.

We arrived in Caen and found our Airbnb. It was nice, but nothing special, and Caen itself isn't really a destination city other than being home to the acclaimed World War II Memorial Museum. Our plan was to be sightseeing most of the time anyway, so we were set. We were fortunate to have great weather as well.

Our first day was spent at the museum. This is not a place to see artifacts - it is dedicated to the history of the most violent and intensive conflict of the 20th Century and particularly World War II. The museum was officially opened on 6 June 1988 (the 44th anniversary of D day) by the French President Francois Mitterrand. The original building deals primarily with World War II, looking at the causes and course of the conflict. Well said Wikipedia. This was a perfect start to our journey.

Standing on the actual soil and sand of the D-Day beaches and learning first hand of the events of those weeks during WWII is almost indescribable. I am so glad our travels brought us, and our daughter, to this hallowed ground.
The most fascinating story we heard detailed the allied ingenuity that built a man-made harbor in a matter of weeks on the shore at Arromanches out of derelict tankers and huge concrete slabs. This was one of the war's most strategic accomplishments in that men and materials could flow continuously onto French soil. Here's a link to a great article in Scientific American that explains it in detail:  http://tinyurl/qetzmft

We were humbled by the sea of 9,387 white crosses punctuated with Stars of David at the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial in Colleville-sur-Mer overlooking Omaha Beach. We had seen a lot that day, but Michael and I were compelled to bookmark our experience with a visit to the German Cemetery at La Cambre, about ten miles inland from the American burial grounds. It was a sharp contrast, but no less powerful. More than 21,000 soldiers are buried here - and while over 1 million visitors pay tribute to our soldiers - a small fraction of that visit this somber site. It was no less powerful and we left with heavy hearts for all the young men who's final resting place we visited that day.
It was time to head back to Paris - could we survive the car trip? We could, but our car could not.
For two days the check engine light had been glowing. On this last day it added the message, loosely translated, "get to a garage or risk implosion".

In the two and half years we have been on the move as Senior Nomads, we rarely move around behind the wheel. Our itineraries are built around staying in the center of each city and relying on public transportation to get us where we need to go. This road trip would be the only the third time we'd rented a car.  We rest our case.

We found the nearest Avis rental agency in Caen and they said we could probably make it to Paris. "Probably?" No thank you. So we switched to a new car - but not before the agency said we'd either need to find a gas station and fill our tank or pay double to have them fill it before we turned it in.  Wait. You want us to put gas in a car we are returning early because it is a potential death trap? Ah, the French.
We made it to Paris and Kelly did a great job of navigating the city streets and getting us to the rental return site. Not easy since it was down a narrow street with a sharp right down into the depths of a parking garage. There was not a soul in sight, just a few spaces marked Avis. We left the car and once above ground found the tiny office. We were happy and relieved to hand over the keys and get back on the trusty Parisian Metro!

We put Kelly on a plane back to Seattle the next day. It suddenly seemed very quiet without a constant stream of advice from our daughter as well as way too loud bouts of laughter; some tender moments; some scratchy moments and some very, very good times. Bless you Kelly.

Thanks for following along.


Thank you to our readers who have been concerned about us. We are safe and so is our daughter and her family. This is such a sad day in Paris.

The Airbnb Open experience was so uplifting and our presentations went well - we even got a standing ovation from the big stage, so today's post was meant to be so different.

As the evening was wrapping up the 5,000 attendees were encouraged to go out and experience the real Paris. Explore a new neighborhood - meet up with new friends at a bar or over dinner. Who knew two hours later mayhem would be unleashed.

Please pray for the citizens of Paris and around the world who are suffering from violence and terror.


Debbie and Michael 



Three years ago, Michael and I sat at our dining room table in Seattle and began scribbling notes on a sheet of paper that very soon became several sheets of paper, around the subject of what retirement might look like for us. We have a ten year age difference that has enriched and influenced our marriage over the past 37 years and now it was time, once again, to recalibrate and see what our next phase looked like. At the time Michael was 67 and I was and 57. One of us old enough to legitimately retire, the other eager to tag along! We'd had several life-changing experiences together - Michael even more so, including a successful stint as a professional race car driver before I met him. What might that next adventure be?

We have four grown children and five young grandchildren and keeping involved in their lives is an adventure of it's own. Our oldest son Alistair and his family are a three hour drive down the road from Seattle to Portland, however, three of our grandchildren live in Paris. During our musings on retirement, our daughter Mary (mother of the Parisian children) suggested we might want to "travel full time... maybe, I don't know, in Europe?" We couldn't imagine we could afford to do that but she also asked if we had ever heard of Airbnb. At that time, we had not.

Whether Mary had an ulterior motive to get us closer to France or not, we certainly thank her for the suggestion, because what seemed an impossible dream financially began to take shape. Once we looked into Airbnb  Michael began one of his favorite pass times, "Crunching the Numbers". The model would be to live in other peoples homes in Europe exclusively using Airbnb unless we were staying with friends. It turned out that if we sold most everything we owned, rented our house, put the remainder in a small storage unit and reduced our monthly expenses to the bare minimum, the travel dream was attainable and project Senior Nomads was launched. Since the day we padlocked the storage we have visited 45 countries, 125 cities and lived in 80 different Airbnbs. This past August we finished two years of almost continuous travel through Europe, Morocco, Israel, the Balkans, and most recently Russia.

We left St. Petersburg on August 19th and headed to France to spend ten action packed days with most of our family. The gathering included our French family, our oldest daughter Kelly, who joined us from Seattle, Alistair, his wife Jenny and their two kids.We rented a large, rambling house in Quiberon, the village on the Brittany coast where Gregoire's parents live. Sadly our son Christopher and his wife Jamie couldn't make the trip, but at least all 5 cousins ranging in age from 15 months to ten years old could be together for the first time!

We had great expectations of long, sun filled days at the beach, but for most of our stay we had steady rain. That didn't keep us from having a great time cooking, (over-eating), playing games, building blanket forts, watching movies, riding bikes in the wind and rain, reading, and when the sun did come out, rushing to the beach for a quick swim.

Here's the twist! About six months ago when we were in Prague, Alistair and Jenny sent a text asking for some advice and could we set up a call. Of course it's always nice when your children seek guidance, but these two are very accomplished on most every front, so we couldn't imagine what the situation might be. With a nine hour time difference, we'd just have to wait until the next day to find out what was up.

It turned out that our travels where so inspiring to them that they were planning to quit their successful jobs (at age 42), take Spencer (8) and Lucy (10) out of school and travel the world for a year. Pause. Double pause. And then we burst out in cheers and tears. How bold and amazing is that?
At that point they hadn't shared their vision with their kids so we had some fun strategizing around just how to do that. Of course hitting the road with two school age children was something we couldn't imagine - but were in that same place three years ago, and now we know anything is possible if you imagine it.

Both adults would be leaving successful careers, Jenny as a Senior Global Director of Nike + Member Services and Alistair as partner at The Great Society, a fast growing ad-agency, but when they gave their notice, both were asked to think of this as a leave-of-absence and they would have jobs waiting for them when they returned. They rented their house, sold a lot of stuff, made twenty trips to Goodwill and boned up on home-schooling with the world as your classroom! As they say, imitation is the greatest form of flattery...and we couldn't be happier with these copycats.

Since we waved goodbye in Quiberon on August 30th, they have been to the Netherlands, Germany, Croatia, Montengro, and are currently on the Amalfi coast in Italy. They've already had several adventures and of course, as we know well, that's what this is all about  You can keep up with them #campbellamble.

As for us, we left Brittany with our oldest daughter Kelly and headed up the coast to Normandy to take in the the D-Day sights. I'll write a quick re-cap of that next.


