French Impressions (not Impressionists), Blog 15..the End

Impressions, Blog 15

Three ladies at three different times offered Dan a seat on the Metro.  He’s getting old!

Except for my grandsons and your grandchildren, of course, France has the world’s cutest children—little cherubs with soft curly hair and blue eyes dressed in adorable outfits often with matching hats.

I saw 4 beauty salons on one short street, in Strasbourg but I haven’t noticed anything special about the coiffures of the women.

Vienne, the only city I haven’t liked on this trip, had 4 psychiatrist offices on one street.  Maybe I was picking up a vibe.

France is a very clean country with almost no graffiti.  The water is also very good—no worries.

France is unbelievably expensive.  I just try to pretend the amount in euros is the same as the amount in dollars would be, but of course it isn’t.   The clothes are so expensive it’s a wonder the people don’t go around naked.  No TJ Maxx or Macy’s on-going sale prices!

French women, like Italian women, are born with a gene that allows them to walk on cobblestones in stiletto heals.  Some also wear stilettos on bikes.

I have sat next to French women at breakfast, lunch, tea, and dinner.  They eat---a lot—but they are still skinny. Life is not fair!

The French, even the Parisians, are really very friendly  and helpful (except for the one waiter previously mentioned) and want to please. Many were concerned about their image and asked what we thought of the French.,  Maybe they want the tourist dollars?

It is sad to see all the young people smoking.  Dan says the displeasure on my face is obvious.

The only way to find the right sights when traveling is to use Rick Steves and Trip Advisor.,,,and then get lost and find all kinds of charming places on our own.

I’m ashamed to admit it but the older we get the more we like the amenities that better hotels offer.  We had no choice but to spend a lot in Paris, but we are also in a great hotel in Strasbourg—significantly less than Paris though.

It is so much fun trying to communicate with people in a foreign language. At a flea market, the owner asked if I spoke French or German.  I replied, “only English and Spanish.”  While born in Venice and currently a resident of Strasbourg, he had lived in Madrid for many years.  We had found a common language, Spanish, and chatted away!  I can communicate enough in French to find locations, ask prices, get to the toilet, order from the menu, be polite but I have to think about it.  Also when I’m at a  French restaurant it is a cacophony of sound.  (Is that redundant?)

We cannot do as much at 70 as we could do at 35—the first time we went to Europe. However, we still try.  After 4-6 hours in the heat, we wonder why we’re so tired. If we were with Grant and Debbie, it would be 8-10! I used to say that I was OK in the heat because I grew up in Sacramento, but that is no longer the case.  Also Europe has a very humid heat.  I schvitz!

French bread is far superior to San Francisco sour dough bread.

The European transportation is superb!

European shower/baths require a master’s in mechanical engineering.  Dan keeps after me because I end up with water all over the floor.  I maintain it’s the design of the shower.  Most of my friends would be unable to get into and out of the bathtubs.  They are about four feet high or  at least feel that way.  I seriously don’t know what many people do.

If there were time enough…I think what I missed most on this trip was music.  We did get to an organ concert but missed so many other wonderful opportunities because it was the wrong day or wrong time or we were on the other side of town or found out too late.  I most regret not hearing the organ concert at St. Suplice in Paris. I will just have to return….someday, Blog 

The Alsace Wine Country, Blog 14--the end (almost)

The Wine Country of Alsace, Blog 14

We rented a car and took off for the Alsace Wine Road on the way to Colmar, a highly touted charming town.  Armed with a map, we were doing great until roadwork took us on detours to nowhere.  We were lost in the Vosges Mountains, but it was OK—even good to be lost-- as we were high up among beautiful forests of trees.  There was a second detour, which took us even more out-of-the way.   It’s a good thing Dan and I love adventures.

 Even though each town was a picturesque medieval wine village, we didn’t stop, with the exception of a brief detour to view Albert Schweitzer’s house, because we were saving all of our energy for Colmar The area is known for its storks as well as its wine.  Stork nests can weigh up to 1000 pounds because they like them sturdy.  They also choose prime real estate on the tops of cathedral and church spires in the most beautiful places…a room with a view.   When it comes to storks, it’s location, location, location!  Dan was able to get a close-up of a family of 3 and also of an individual stork on top of the Colmar Cathedral.

We got a map from the TI and combined it with Rick Steve’s walking tour of Colmar—beyond wonderful.  If I could have made all the tourists vanish, I would have been transported back to the Middle Ages.  We skipped both the museum of Frederick-Auguste Bartholdi, the designer and architect of the Statue of Liberty, who lived here, and Rick Steve’s favorite French museum.  Even a museum junkie has her limits when her feet are sore.   The walking tour took us to all the highlights of the area:  Petite Venice with canals, the Tanners’ Square, the colorful, narrow houses, the synagogue and so much more.  You’ll just have to beg to see our pictures.  Steves said it was a leisurely 1 hour stroll.  The Lees did it in a record 2 ½ hours.

We got really, really lost trying to find our way out of Colmar and ended up who knows where, but with blind squirrel luck we finally found the expressway back to Stasbourt.  It was amazing that we stayed calm and laughed rather than argued.

Shortly after we arrived back to the hotel after a lovely, mild day, we experienced  violent thunder, lightening, followed by a heavy downpour.  We decided to try the hotel restaurant.  Wrong!  Not only was it very expensive--  $25 for a small side salad—there was nothing on the menu to satisfy our palates:  tete de veau, pied du porc, liver of canard.  Feh!  

Since the rain had diminished, we headed out in our usual restaurant search mode, which is what I dislike most about traveling.  Dan’s motto is, “When all else fails, eat Italian,” so we ducked into a pizza, pasta place.  Dan ordered a side salad $5 (not $25) and I had a bowl of tomato soup.  We waited and waited and waited for the pizza to the point that went beyond leisurely French dining.  When they served the table that had ordered 15 minutes after us, and our pizza was nowhere in sight, even mild mannered Dan agreed to pay for what we’d eaten already and leave.

As we walked back to the hotel at 10:30, an oasis:  McDonalds.  Very tired and cranky, I left Dan at the door to order a Big Mac.  Twenty minutes later he returned to the hotel stating, “That’s the second restaurant I walked out of tonight.”  They couldn’t get their act together to serve the two people in line ahead of Dan.  It was OK though.  We lived off our fat until morning.

Today we had a choice of TGV to Charles De Gaulle either at 12:15 or 7 P.M.  As much as we loved Stasbourg, we had to be out of our hotel room mid afternoon and I hate to admit it, but we’re tired.  We decided to have breakfast in Petite France, a section we hadn’t yet visited.  What an experience!  Next to us was a forty-five year old German man, Oliver, who was moving to Stasbourg.  He looked like a hippie but acknowledged that he was quite conservative.  Then he proceeded to tell us that his grandfather had worked with Werner Von Braun during WWII and refused to be part of the group that came to America because that was the enemy.  He said that his grandfather “did terrible things.”  At that point, I decided to tell him we were Jewish.  He told us his grandmother insisted that “she knew nothing about what was going on.”  When he was older, he confronted her and told her that was impossible.  She read up on it and came to him in tears—ashamed.  According to him, he is filled with guilt and has a hard time dealing with it.  When Dan asked for bill, Oliver got up.  Dan guessed correctly that he paid for our bill. When I spoke to Debbie, she said, “Did he think he was paying reparations?”!

 We grabbed baquettes at the French equivalent of Togo’s, and after a smooth 2 ½ hr  ride on the TGV to the airport, we are at a Novotel, the best ergonomically designed hotel of our trip:  easy to find and many outlets, a hotpot rather than a complicated coffee machine that even Dan couldn’t work, a shower that doesn’t require mountain climbing.  Tomorrow…home.  It’s been a great trip!!!

I have one blog after this that will deal with overall impressions.  Thank you for reading.  Again, forgive typos, incorrect words, misspelling, bad grammar.   Adieu,  Shirley

Strasburg--LOVE it, Blog 13

Strasburg, Blog 13

I LOVE Strasburg and the entire Alsace Region.  I’m an addict when it comes to the TV show House Hunters International.  It’s a quality reality show about people looking for homes all over the world and gives insight into the culture and scenery of the area.  When I watched a couple buy a home in Strasburg, I said to Dan, “We have to go there!”  And we did!   And it lives up to all expectations!

When we arrived it was evening but very hot.  Our hotel is wonderful with 2 sinks, a separate toilet, a sitting room and great AC.  We wandered down to the L’Ill River and lucked out.  Outside a tree covered restaurant terrace there was a 22 piece oompah band that played for about 2 hours.  I enjoyed a Salade et bier followed by a gelato at a nearby stand.  Life does not get better than this!

The next morning, we walked to the cathedral—again no superlative does it justice….one of the beautiful I have ever seen.  In a rose sandstone from the nearby Vosges Mountains, its cloud piercing spire delicately touches the sky. Begun in1176, it survived the French Revolution, Franco Prussian War, WWI, and WWII.  The most unusual part is a high-tech 15^th century astronomical clock.  Once a day at 12:30 PM,  a rooster crows, the 12 apostles pass Jesus for a blessing, angels move about.  How it was designed and constructed without modern tools is unbelievable!

We have about overdosed on museums but there was one last one to see:  The Alsatian Museum.  Alsatian folk art is presented in one of Strasbourg’s oldest and most characteristic homes.  Besides the wonderful exhibits of daily life, we were surprised to find 2 rooms devoted to Juif (Jews) and a reconstructed synagogue.  A number of the different artifacts had writing in Hebrew alongside designs of the French flag.

Outside the museum was a real flea market as opposed to an antique dealers’ fair.  Prices were reasonable and it was possible to bargain.  I actually bought a small lithograph of Alsacian women in native costume.  Just what I need—another picture to hang on the wall.

By then it was late afternoon and about 95 degrees (no exaggeration) so we went back to the hotel for the AC.  After resting, we went on an 8 PM boat trip on the canals of the River I’ll, which surrounded the city.  Most of the boats are enclosed but we were fortunate to get on one completely open with an excellent English commentary.  In addition to the medieval sights, we floated by the European Parliament Buildings and the European Court of Human Rights, ultra modern buildings.  When we were all done, I was ready to go round again.  Of note, the commentary stated, “Strasbourg is a city of Catholics, Protestants, and Jews.”

Paris to Strasburg, Blog 12

Paris to Strasburg—Fantastique!, Blog 12

We checked out, stored our luggage at the hotel, and walked about 30 minutes to the Orsay Museum.  Our hotel helped us to purchase tickets on-line so we wouldn’t have to stand in line because the line to buy tickets was endless.  Even in the line for people who already had tickets it was necessary to wait.  Oh, but it’s worth it!  We were last in the Orsay about 19 years ago.  It’s been redone.  If my memory is working (which doesn’t always happen) I think I liked the original layout better, but……the art is timeless.

 You all know Impressionist art so I won’t go into too much detail—just reactions.  Manet, Monet, Renoir,  Tourlouse, Cassat—they’re all at the Orsay. There is absolutely no substitute for the originals. Dan and I both loved the landscapes of Sisley and Pissarro.  Degas’ La Petite Danseuse is one of my top five favorite works of art  (David is number 1.)  In fact, I love all of Degas despite his virulent Anti-Semitism.  While I think the Mona Lisa (Louvre)  is one of the most overrated works of art ever, I am fascinated by another classic:  Whistler’s Arrangement in Gray and Black No. 1…the famous portrait of his mother. Up close the original has wonderful nuances.

We ate in the café on the top floor—one of my best meals of the trip:  poached salmon, smoked salmon, salmon salad, and salmon mousse—all on one plate-- with a horseradish dill sauce and salad.  There are some positive outcomes of getting older.  The queue to the lady’s room was very long.  The attendant in charge of the handicapped loo scanned the line and motioned for me to come forward!  I was more pleased than insulted.

On the floors below the Impressionists were exhibits of Art Deco, Arts and Crafts furniture, Art Nouveau, and sculpture.  The Art Nouveau floor had a recreated room using objects from someone’s house.  Spectacular!    I took a forbidden snapshot from the doorway of the entire room.  I’ve already confessed this is one of my failings that I atone for on Yom Kippur, but I do have my standards.  I will never take a picture using a flash of a painting because I know the damage it can do. In fact I later became upset with a gentleman who took a flash photo inches from a Van Gogh self-portrait. Hypocrite?  Oui ou No?

I refused to take the metro back to our hotel because I wanted one last stroll in Paris. Part of our route took us along the Seine and a view of Notre Dame.  From our hotel, our trip to the Gare d’Ouest was an e-ride by taxi (are you old enough to understand the reference?) because of the traffic.   I was surprised to find that the station was immaculate with fine shops and few people.  We settled in on the TGV for our 2 ½ hours to Strasburg.