Single beds, single bed duvets and small bath towels – we must be in Germany. Indeed we are, a hop, skip and a jump from Germany's former territory and we were into Deutschland, visiting the Rhine and the Moselle rivers.
Before leaving Strasbourg this morning, we did a bit of a walk around the central city, grabbing a coffee and then getting on the motorway. Leaving France on their 130 kph motorway, we hit Germany and switched immediately to a 90kph rough single lane road for 6ks, which was quite a surprise. As soon as the road increased to dual carriageway, the Germans were off and roared passed me. As the speed limit increased to 130kph, the speeds got even faster and I got blasted past by a range of BMW, Audis, VWs and of course even the “man in the white van” made a brief appearance as he shot past me in one hell of a hurry. Also on the road were more trucks than I knew existed.
The roads in Germany are free and although they allow unlimited speed in some places, they are also the home to millions of trucks, traffic jams and contra-flows. All of which makes for a mixed result, as some of the locals we have spoken to complain of the number of road works, where the lanes are coned off, traffic is at a crawl and there is no apparent work being done.
The weather has now changed from tropical to unsettled and rather than a cloud burst in the afternoons, we are now getting regular deluges at any time of the day or night, the skies are generally overcast and camping has been put on the back burner until the situation rights itself, or the holiday ends, whichever comes first.
Our first deluge of the day came on the motorways and it was one of the scariest experiences I've ever had in a car. Just as I pulled out to pass a truck, the heavens opened and the conditions turned into a white out. All I could see was the silhouette of the truck ahead of me and the white line to the side of me. Everything else was just spray and the road almost immediately was covered in surface water – all this while travelling at 130kph, although the speed reduced rapidly until the conditions improved a couple of minutes later. The brief trip to Bacharach (the small town on the Rhine where we are staying) involved 3 single lane contraflows and one tailback that went on for a couple of kilometres. This is more traffic trouble in one hour on German roads than we've in 3 weeks on French ones, so from our perspective, the French pay as you go system seems to yield a better result.
Bacharach is a pretty little town at the side of the Rhine. We have booked a hotel there for one night. We didn't arrive until mid afternoon, so after checking in and having a bite to eat, we went for a walk around the town before retiring to our room to watch the latest stage of the Tour de France.
We were walking around the town in the evening looking for somewhere for dinner, when this elderly woman came out of one of the restaurants, looked up to the skies and then said to us, “it's certainly chilly out tonight, it was 30 degrees yesterday. Are you looking for something to eat?”. We were both somewhat surprised at both the perfect English and the direct but very friendly apporach, so we both said yes, and with that were taken into one of the smallest restaurants we've ever been in. It was like stepping back in time. The restaurant was a small room the size of a living room, with only 7 tables, one of which was taken up by the Lord of the Manor, who appeared to be in his 80's, but was nonetheless doing the books on his laptop.
The room itself was wood panelling to waist height, with 3 layers of red tiles above that. Animals heads and skins adorned the wall, along with badges from various police and fire departments and there were a couple of stuffed animals on the shelves around the room. The table cloths were green plastic, leadlight lampshades hung from the ceiling and the curtains were red string. The owners obviously had something to do with horses, because there were also several photos of them with horses in their younger days. All the tables and wood panelling in the place was dark, so it really did have a rather old fashioned but comfortable feel to the place. Half of the tables had customers, so Anne settled in for what turned out to be one of the most enjoyable meals of the holiday. After all the French fare, it was nice to have some simpler food, so the Bratwurst and French fries, and the Weinerschnitzel was absolutely perfect. The lady of the house of course convinced us to have some of her home made apple struddle, which was to die for, so we left the restaurant well satisfied and all for the extremely reasonable price of only 30 Euros including a beer and a pitcher of wine (the food and wine were suggested by the lady of the house! She ordered and we enjoyed)
It is difficult to know how the GFC is affecting Europe (as translating the odd news we see is beyond our language skills) but certainly things seem quiet especially as this is peak season! The restaurants are not full and neither are the hotels, nor the campgrounds – certainly a surprise at this time of year! We have been told that a lot of Europeans are holidaying at home (be that in France or Germany!). The exception of course is the Netherlands, where 1 in 5 of them have got a caravan, so they are all out traveling the highways and biways of Europe – as we are.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Sunday 5th July – Week 3 – Route Des Vins / Strasbourg
We were up at 8am and had the tent cleaned and packed by 8:30 and were then on the road along the Route Des Vins to Strasbourg. The campground at Ribeauville had been really great, but after two heavy showers, the area around our tent was now very muddy and its original appeal of being well shaded meant that in the dry spells it hadn't dried out at all.
Being a Sunday night tonight, we have decided that this and Monday night will be hotel nights. Tonight will be in Strasbourg, where we have booked the Hotel Gutenburg, right in the centre of town and then Monday night we will be on the Rhine in a tiny little town call Bacharach.
Our route to Strasbourg was on the Route Des Vins, the tourist road that runs from one end of the Alsace to the other. It's actually the road we've been driving up and down for the last couple of days, but I just haven't got around to mentioning it. After all the rain, the day was amazingly crystal clear and we took some great photos of the vineyards and the small towns as we went along. There really is a town every couple of kilometres and in some of the photos, you can see two or three them spanned out towards the horizon. We stopped at the town of Itterswiller, because it in particular caught our eye, with all the houses and hotels having brilliantly colourful window boxes full of geraniums and petunias (Anne told me that).
Our first scheduled stop on the way to Stasbourg, was at the town of Obernai. Parking on the outskirts of town, we did a walking tour of the town and it's very impressive cathedral. There were a myriad of bus tours in town – old people and American school kids, so the place was pretty busy. Being a Sunday of course, there were also a hundred motorbikes in town, with their owners all wading around in their extravagantly hot protective gear. I enjoyed looking at the motorbikes, but couldn't do the 30 odd degree heat with all the gear.
Leaving Obernai, it was on the motorway to Strasbourg. Jane did an excellent job of navigating us straight to the hotel door, or the parking building 50 metres away. Heading out to find some lunch, there was a Romanian Food Festival on in Gutenburg Square, which is right beside the hotel, so we stopped there to see what they could do with minced meat and potato and also to pick up some information about tourism in Romania. The Potato salad and the spiced mince sausages were very nice, as was the Apple Struddle, which had a filling that was almost like cream cheese.
After lunch, we headed to the Strasbourg Cathedral, which is magnificent – both the external facade and the stained glass windows inside. People were climbing up inside the church towers, but given the heat and the recent lunch, we decided that we'd go and check into our hotel and watch the Tour de France (which isn't nearly as good when you've only got French, German or Italian (we did have all three) commentators.
We went for a long walk in the evening, down to Petite France, the canal area of Strasbourg and then along the riverbank of the River Ill doing a big circuit all the way back to the cathedral, before heading back down to Petite France to one of the restaurants we had seen beside the canals. It had the intriguing name of La Corde A Ligne – The Clothes Line and all the menu items were named after things to do with washing, or washing machines. It sounds odd, when translated to English, but the menu itself was pretty cool and we had a meal of Spatzle and meatballs in a mustard sauce (me), and Spatzle and half a chicken (Anne), which we shared.
Being a Sunday night tonight, we have decided that this and Monday night will be hotel nights. Tonight will be in Strasbourg, where we have booked the Hotel Gutenburg, right in the centre of town and then Monday night we will be on the Rhine in a tiny little town call Bacharach.
Our route to Strasbourg was on the Route Des Vins, the tourist road that runs from one end of the Alsace to the other. It's actually the road we've been driving up and down for the last couple of days, but I just haven't got around to mentioning it. After all the rain, the day was amazingly crystal clear and we took some great photos of the vineyards and the small towns as we went along. There really is a town every couple of kilometres and in some of the photos, you can see two or three them spanned out towards the horizon. We stopped at the town of Itterswiller, because it in particular caught our eye, with all the houses and hotels having brilliantly colourful window boxes full of geraniums and petunias (Anne told me that).
Our first scheduled stop on the way to Stasbourg, was at the town of Obernai. Parking on the outskirts of town, we did a walking tour of the town and it's very impressive cathedral. There were a myriad of bus tours in town – old people and American school kids, so the place was pretty busy. Being a Sunday of course, there were also a hundred motorbikes in town, with their owners all wading around in their extravagantly hot protective gear. I enjoyed looking at the motorbikes, but couldn't do the 30 odd degree heat with all the gear.
Leaving Obernai, it was on the motorway to Strasbourg. Jane did an excellent job of navigating us straight to the hotel door, or the parking building 50 metres away. Heading out to find some lunch, there was a Romanian Food Festival on in Gutenburg Square, which is right beside the hotel, so we stopped there to see what they could do with minced meat and potato and also to pick up some information about tourism in Romania. The Potato salad and the spiced mince sausages were very nice, as was the Apple Struddle, which had a filling that was almost like cream cheese.
After lunch, we headed to the Strasbourg Cathedral, which is magnificent – both the external facade and the stained glass windows inside. People were climbing up inside the church towers, but given the heat and the recent lunch, we decided that we'd go and check into our hotel and watch the Tour de France (which isn't nearly as good when you've only got French, German or Italian (we did have all three) commentators.
We went for a long walk in the evening, down to Petite France, the canal area of Strasbourg and then along the riverbank of the River Ill doing a big circuit all the way back to the cathedral, before heading back down to Petite France to one of the restaurants we had seen beside the canals. It had the intriguing name of La Corde A Ligne – The Clothes Line and all the menu items were named after things to do with washing, or washing machines. It sounds odd, when translated to English, but the menu itself was pretty cool and we had a meal of Spatzle and meatballs in a mustard sauce (me), and Spatzle and half a chicken (Anne), which we shared.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Saturday 4th July – Week 3 – Koenigsbourg
Off through the back roads of the Alsace today to visit the hill top castle - Haut Koenigsbourg. The castle had been a ruin, but was fully restored at the start of the 20th Century. It had been first built in the 12th Century and is located on top of a 700m hill, that had views of the Alsace plains, was a perfect defensive stronghold, that is until the Swedes destroyed it in the 17th Century. In 1870, The Alsace and part of the Lorraine became part of Germany as a result of the Franco-Prussian war. It remained in German hands until 1918 and it was during this period that Kaiser William II had it restored to its former glory.
We spent a couple of hours in the interior of the castle, which was very much a defensive fortress whose primary purpose was for the defense of the lands surrounding them. The views over the Alsace, were surprisingly still quite hazy, but it did show that for as far as the eye could see, all there was was vineyards.
After leaving the castle, we stopped in a couple of small villages, but not finding anywhere that grabbed our fancy for lunch, we headed back to Ribeauville, but then had to sit in the car for 20 minutes to wait while the heavens once again opened, in yet another attempt to a.) clear the air of humidity and b.) provide a job creation scheme for the campers who were still mopping up after yesterday's deluge. We decided that once again, a pup tent was no place for anybody over the age of 5 during a torrential down pour and that as we had survived the previous days down pour, we would be OK to survive the latest.
We got a hell of a a fright at one stage, while driving around. A bolt of lightning hit the ground very close by which made an almighty bang. Just as we were hitting our heads on the ceiling of the car, it's accompanying thunderclap went off as well. That's the second time in Europe that we've got very close to lightning bolts and both were pretty spectacular.
We spent an enjoyable couple of hours walking round Ribeauville and having a late lunch / dinner of Beef Bourgonogne. When we returned to the campground, everything was OK, but the door of the tent was half open, but nothing had been taken. A couple of minutes thought about why somebody would look into the smallest tent in the campground brought us to the conclusion that it must be kids, just as one went by with an obvious look of guilt on his face.
There was a local outdoor disco on at a park up the road, so we went up to that for an hour or so, enjoying the 70's and 80's music and the dancing girls on the stage. The DJ with his curly dark hair, mustache and sequined, sleeveless top was also a sight to behold. The disco finished at 11pm and then the drums started, so we walked back to the campground and were soothed off to sleep by their rhythmic beat.
We spent a couple of hours in the interior of the castle, which was very much a defensive fortress whose primary purpose was for the defense of the lands surrounding them. The views over the Alsace, were surprisingly still quite hazy, but it did show that for as far as the eye could see, all there was was vineyards.
After leaving the castle, we stopped in a couple of small villages, but not finding anywhere that grabbed our fancy for lunch, we headed back to Ribeauville, but then had to sit in the car for 20 minutes to wait while the heavens once again opened, in yet another attempt to a.) clear the air of humidity and b.) provide a job creation scheme for the campers who were still mopping up after yesterday's deluge. We decided that once again, a pup tent was no place for anybody over the age of 5 during a torrential down pour and that as we had survived the previous days down pour, we would be OK to survive the latest.
We got a hell of a a fright at one stage, while driving around. A bolt of lightning hit the ground very close by which made an almighty bang. Just as we were hitting our heads on the ceiling of the car, it's accompanying thunderclap went off as well. That's the second time in Europe that we've got very close to lightning bolts and both were pretty spectacular.
We spent an enjoyable couple of hours walking round Ribeauville and having a late lunch / dinner of Beef Bourgonogne. When we returned to the campground, everything was OK, but the door of the tent was half open, but nothing had been taken. A couple of minutes thought about why somebody would look into the smallest tent in the campground brought us to the conclusion that it must be kids, just as one went by with an obvious look of guilt on his face.
There was a local outdoor disco on at a park up the road, so we went up to that for an hour or so, enjoying the 70's and 80's music and the dancing girls on the stage. The DJ with his curly dark hair, mustache and sequined, sleeveless top was also a sight to behold. The disco finished at 11pm and then the drums started, so we walked back to the campground and were soothed off to sleep by their rhythmic beat.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Friday 3rd July – Week 3 – Eguisheim and Colmar
The heat and humidity continue. It's getting really muggy now something has got to give and I feel it might be me. Mid morning sightseeing runs in the mid 30's and the humidity is through the roof. Anne's fear of thunder and lightning has been forever cured, because it's as regular as breathing at the moment. It's all happening a fair distance away, but so far there's been no cloud burst to bring the temperature, or the humidity, down.
We headed off to Eguisheim, after a breakfast of Pain au Raisin and Pain au Chocolat. This campground has the luxury of a shop that stocks fresh pasties every morning, so we're making the most of that while it lasts. Eguisheim is a small town about 15kms away from Ribeauville. All the towns in the area are located very close to one another and this would appear to be because the locals live in the town and work on the vineyard, so had to live reasonably close to their own vineyard.
The town is once again picture postcard, but as we walked around it, the skies darkened and we were soon walking in the midst of a constant shower. We stopped by the main town's square for a coffee, along with all the septuagenarian cyclists that had decided that this riding lark wasn't nearly as good when it rained. After the coffee, we visited the local church which was the most elaborate affair we've come across so far, and once again, very in keeping with German rather than French taste (or at least what I've observed of French taste in church interiors, which is very austere. I took a quite neat photo of the interior of the church, which required a 4 second exposure time, because the church was so dark. The result was rather good, if I say so myself, and revealed an array of colours and patterns that are not visible to the naked eye.
Next stop after Eguisheim was the town of Colmar, a biggish town with a population of around 100,000 people. We spent about 3 hours walking round the town, photographing the small squares and the streets and visiting their little Venice, although the name is a bit of a stretch because 1 small canal does not make ones city the next Venice. Returning from a brief visit to an electronics shop, we were greeted with black skies and the rain had started. We decided to head back to Ribeauville amidst a moderate rain shower. Stopping at a Decathlon shop on the outskirts of Colmar, we heard the heavens open above us onto the roof of the mega store. Leaving the store, we stopped to check out how next year's tent, an example of which had been pitched outside the store, would handle a Noah-esque torrential down pour. Heading back to Ribeauville, the rain was unbelievably heavy, so we stopped for an extended visit to the supermarket, hoping to see the storm pass. The storm seemed a bit more than the locals are used to, as every aisle at the supermarket had a bucket in it, and when we ventured outside, the local fire department had been called to pump out the basement, which had obviously flooded.
Wondering how the tent had survived and keen to see the devastation, we returned to the campground to find that our tent was only slightly damp inside, but very muddy on the outside. Others had not faired so well and some of the tent sites were in a hollow, so we watched with interest as one diligent wife removed 3 10 litre pales of water for inside their tent (while her husband had a cigar outside :-( ). All around the campsite, people were busying themselves with sponges, mops and brooms (where does all this stuff come from) to mop up from the deluge. We did a quick assessment, had a brief chat with the neighbours, decided that things were looking ok and headed into town for dinner. We were pleased that we'd put our sleeping bags in the waterproof bag we carry all our camping gear in, as despite the massive down pour, they were still totally dry. The neighbours told us that when they were sitting in the tent during the down pour, they could feel some big creeks start to develop under their tent. We decided that we had been best to stay away and that our ignorance is bliss policy had worked well for this camping dilemma.
We returned after dinner to a mostly dry tent and turning over the air bed to conceal the wet patch that had caught the slight leak, we settled in for a quiet nights sleep.
We headed off to Eguisheim, after a breakfast of Pain au Raisin and Pain au Chocolat. This campground has the luxury of a shop that stocks fresh pasties every morning, so we're making the most of that while it lasts. Eguisheim is a small town about 15kms away from Ribeauville. All the towns in the area are located very close to one another and this would appear to be because the locals live in the town and work on the vineyard, so had to live reasonably close to their own vineyard.
The town is once again picture postcard, but as we walked around it, the skies darkened and we were soon walking in the midst of a constant shower. We stopped by the main town's square for a coffee, along with all the septuagenarian cyclists that had decided that this riding lark wasn't nearly as good when it rained. After the coffee, we visited the local church which was the most elaborate affair we've come across so far, and once again, very in keeping with German rather than French taste (or at least what I've observed of French taste in church interiors, which is very austere. I took a quite neat photo of the interior of the church, which required a 4 second exposure time, because the church was so dark. The result was rather good, if I say so myself, and revealed an array of colours and patterns that are not visible to the naked eye.
Next stop after Eguisheim was the town of Colmar, a biggish town with a population of around 100,000 people. We spent about 3 hours walking round the town, photographing the small squares and the streets and visiting their little Venice, although the name is a bit of a stretch because 1 small canal does not make ones city the next Venice. Returning from a brief visit to an electronics shop, we were greeted with black skies and the rain had started. We decided to head back to Ribeauville amidst a moderate rain shower. Stopping at a Decathlon shop on the outskirts of Colmar, we heard the heavens open above us onto the roof of the mega store. Leaving the store, we stopped to check out how next year's tent, an example of which had been pitched outside the store, would handle a Noah-esque torrential down pour. Heading back to Ribeauville, the rain was unbelievably heavy, so we stopped for an extended visit to the supermarket, hoping to see the storm pass. The storm seemed a bit more than the locals are used to, as every aisle at the supermarket had a bucket in it, and when we ventured outside, the local fire department had been called to pump out the basement, which had obviously flooded.
Wondering how the tent had survived and keen to see the devastation, we returned to the campground to find that our tent was only slightly damp inside, but very muddy on the outside. Others had not faired so well and some of the tent sites were in a hollow, so we watched with interest as one diligent wife removed 3 10 litre pales of water for inside their tent (while her husband had a cigar outside :-( ). All around the campsite, people were busying themselves with sponges, mops and brooms (where does all this stuff come from) to mop up from the deluge. We did a quick assessment, had a brief chat with the neighbours, decided that things were looking ok and headed into town for dinner. We were pleased that we'd put our sleeping bags in the waterproof bag we carry all our camping gear in, as despite the massive down pour, they were still totally dry. The neighbours told us that when they were sitting in the tent during the down pour, they could feel some big creeks start to develop under their tent. We decided that we had been best to stay away and that our ignorance is bliss policy had worked well for this camping dilemma.
We returned after dinner to a mostly dry tent and turning over the air bed to conceal the wet patch that had caught the slight leak, we settled in for a quiet nights sleep.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Thursday 2nd July – Week 3 – Ribeauville / Riquewihr / Kaysersberg
Have I mentioned that it is hot – man is it hot today. It got so hot that we eventually had to put the roof up on the car – 36 degrees is too hot to be driving round in the sun. We started off in Ribeauville, as we'd only gone half way up the main street on our walk the previous night. From there, we headed off through the vine covered countryside to Riquewihr. Riquewihr is a small town set on a steep hillside. You enter through the main gate, which is the archway in the middle to the town hall. The walk through the town isn't quite on hands and knees, but it is a fairly steep hill. We were there about midday, so the sun was high in the sky and there was no protection from the sweltering sun. Although it sounds like a fairly quiet day so far, the couple of hours walking in the heat had taken it's toll on our energy, so we retired to the shade of the campground and had a well earned siesta until some of the heat had gone from the sun.
5pm was a good time to be back out sightseeing and we visited a couple more small towns – Kaysersberg, which I'm sure we visited in the early 90's – it had a very familiar feel to it.
The big talking point of the day was, however, the dinner. Remember, the when in Rome comment. So tonight Anne and I tried the local delicacies. I had the Sauerkraut, with 5 different meats and potatoes, while Anne had the meat tourte (pie in other words). The previous night, these dishes had looked pretty good, so with great anticipation, we rocked up to a restaurant in Riquewihr (it doesn't matter what restaurant in what town – they all service it) and duly ordered our choice of dinners. The Sauerkraut is is in fact sour – it's made with white wine, but it tastes more like vinegar. I hadn't know this, until I tried it. The meats are slabs of fatty bacon, ham, and one very white sausage. The potatoes are simply boiled newish potatoes. I can now confidently report that the potatoes were the highlight. Make no mistake, this isn't something that is put on for the tourists – everybody eats it, and now I have too. But that's it, never again. Given the quality of food in the rest of France, this really is bland fare. I'm not sure what we are in for in the next week, when we head into the Rhine and Moselle, but just right now, I'm not feeling confident. Anne's meal consisted of a meat pie and many different grated vegetables – swede being among them. This is called a Tourte and once again – once is enough. The highlight of the meal was dessert!
We returned to the campground and were met with the familiar site of the people that had been sitting outside their caravans when we left at 10 O'clock in the morning, who had been there, outside there caravans, when we returned at 4, were still sitting outside their caravans when we returned to the campground at 10pm. This seems to be a feature of campground life, where some people just rock up to a campground and then revolve their entire life around and caravan and an awning for the week or so that they are there.
5pm was a good time to be back out sightseeing and we visited a couple more small towns – Kaysersberg, which I'm sure we visited in the early 90's – it had a very familiar feel to it.
The big talking point of the day was, however, the dinner. Remember, the when in Rome comment. So tonight Anne and I tried the local delicacies. I had the Sauerkraut, with 5 different meats and potatoes, while Anne had the meat tourte (pie in other words). The previous night, these dishes had looked pretty good, so with great anticipation, we rocked up to a restaurant in Riquewihr (it doesn't matter what restaurant in what town – they all service it) and duly ordered our choice of dinners. The Sauerkraut is is in fact sour – it's made with white wine, but it tastes more like vinegar. I hadn't know this, until I tried it. The meats are slabs of fatty bacon, ham, and one very white sausage. The potatoes are simply boiled newish potatoes. I can now confidently report that the potatoes were the highlight. Make no mistake, this isn't something that is put on for the tourists – everybody eats it, and now I have too. But that's it, never again. Given the quality of food in the rest of France, this really is bland fare. I'm not sure what we are in for in the next week, when we head into the Rhine and Moselle, but just right now, I'm not feeling confident. Anne's meal consisted of a meat pie and many different grated vegetables – swede being among them. This is called a Tourte and once again – once is enough. The highlight of the meal was dessert!
We returned to the campground and were met with the familiar site of the people that had been sitting outside their caravans when we left at 10 O'clock in the morning, who had been there, outside there caravans, when we returned at 4, were still sitting outside their caravans when we returned to the campground at 10pm. This seems to be a feature of campground life, where some people just rock up to a campground and then revolve their entire life around and caravan and an awning for the week or so that they are there.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Wednesday 1st July – Week 3 – Dijon / Alsace
Boy was I grumpy this morning. It all started the previous night, when I slammed my finger in a door, trying to manouver my way into the washing cubicle in the Beaune campground. The problem is that, any cubicle you have to shut a door on, you have to get through the door and then wedge yourself between the toilet or wash basin in order to be able to shut the door. I don't know who designed the facilities in the Beaune campground, but they don't bear any resemblance to any dimensions that I possess.
Beaune is a stop off point halfway between Calais and the south coast of France. Everybody in the campground is there for just one night, and I think the design of the facilities reflects this. After the finger crushing incident last night, the shower cubicle doesn't have a lock, the hooks are on upside down and all the toilets were full for an age when I arrived at my usual time, which in other campgrounds has seen me have the full facility to myself.
Anne came back and said that all the women had commented that these were the worst facilities they'd come across. It amused me that the women discussed this and the shared suffering helped them all get over it. There was not a word spoken in the men's facilities and I suspect everyone of us was seething. OK, got that off my chest. So after one very hot and muggy night (that didn't help my mood either) we packed up the tent and headed off on the road to Dijon
Dijon is the capital of burgundy and as such is a largish city of quarter of a million people. In the past, it has been incredibly wealthy and this is reflected in the magnificent historic buildings in the centre of the town.
The traffic was pretty busy getting into town, so we found a car park within close walking distance of the city centre and headed off on foot to explore the town centre. As we walked along the street, we noticed some big brass placards in the footpath with an owl logo on them. There owl is a little carving housed in the Notre Dame Cathedral, that is supposed to give good luck if you rub it with your left hand. The symbol is also used on little brass arrows all around the city, to lead you on a walking tour.
We, however, had the Michelin guide tour, which we followed. The first stop was the Eglise Notre Dame, which had a fairly gruesome facade with three tiers of gargoyles all leaping out of the front of the church. The church wasn't open, so we headed off to the Place de La Liberation. This is a large semi-circular place, with the town hall on the flat edge of the semi-circle. The centre of the Place has a series of water fountains coming straight out of the paving stones, so you are able to walk right over them, which a number of very wet small children obviously had done. The outside of the Place contained a bunch of restaurants. At mid morning, the place was still quite quiet, so we headed off down some side streets and found some local markets and a busy shopping area. Although it's a big city, Dijon had a really good feel to it with a really lively street scene. Sorry to report, but in our short visit we did not see anybody selling mustard.
After Dijon, it was a much longer drive via motorways full of trucks in scorching heat to the Alsace. The Alsace is a series of very small villages and we've chosen one called Ribeauville to camp in for 4 days. The Alsace, home of the Alsatian dog, is very close the the German border and the german influences are very evident. The towns, which some people have described as chocolate box, are much more elaborately decorated than your average French town, but this is reasonably typical of German towns. The local cuisine consists of such favourites as Sauerkrautt, Spleitzly, pork sausages and potatoes.
The campground is of a really good quality and we have a very nice pitch with plenty of shade. The facilities are top notch, the staff are really friendly and it's the sort of place that people come to for a week, so it has more of a “permanent” feel about it.
After pitching our tent, we headed into town centre, which is about a 15 minute walk away. If we thought at Burgundy was full on wine production, it is nothing compared to the Alsace, where they have been growing grapes since about the 3rd century. Today, the whole region is devoted exclusively to growing wine and it is just staggering how much grape production there is. It seems that there are only two things that are important here – grapes and god. Every town is built around a church and everybody lives in the town, so that the productivity of the hillsides are maximised for growing grapes.
Ribeauville is a lovely medium sized village, which means that the main street is a kilometre or so long and has shops, bars, restaurants and wine caves all the way up it. The town can't be much more than three blocks from one side to the other – kinda like Dannevirke, but interesting, so not like Dannevirke at all.Once you've walked up the main street and down a couple of side streets you've pretty much seen the entire town and it is beautiful . You'll see some photos of the town and some of the others that you're about to read about and they are pretty stunning. The locals obviously take a huge amount of time to ensure that the towns look at their absolute best during the summer months.
Our dinner was in one of the restaurants, which served a mixture of more traditional French cuisine as well as the local food. We opted for the more traditional option, but vowed after watching the other diners that we'd be eating cabbage, sausages and potatoes at the next opportunity – when in Rome and all that.
Beaune is a stop off point halfway between Calais and the south coast of France. Everybody in the campground is there for just one night, and I think the design of the facilities reflects this. After the finger crushing incident last night, the shower cubicle doesn't have a lock, the hooks are on upside down and all the toilets were full for an age when I arrived at my usual time, which in other campgrounds has seen me have the full facility to myself.
Anne came back and said that all the women had commented that these were the worst facilities they'd come across. It amused me that the women discussed this and the shared suffering helped them all get over it. There was not a word spoken in the men's facilities and I suspect everyone of us was seething. OK, got that off my chest. So after one very hot and muggy night (that didn't help my mood either) we packed up the tent and headed off on the road to Dijon
Dijon is the capital of burgundy and as such is a largish city of quarter of a million people. In the past, it has been incredibly wealthy and this is reflected in the magnificent historic buildings in the centre of the town.
The traffic was pretty busy getting into town, so we found a car park within close walking distance of the city centre and headed off on foot to explore the town centre. As we walked along the street, we noticed some big brass placards in the footpath with an owl logo on them. There owl is a little carving housed in the Notre Dame Cathedral, that is supposed to give good luck if you rub it with your left hand. The symbol is also used on little brass arrows all around the city, to lead you on a walking tour.
We, however, had the Michelin guide tour, which we followed. The first stop was the Eglise Notre Dame, which had a fairly gruesome facade with three tiers of gargoyles all leaping out of the front of the church. The church wasn't open, so we headed off to the Place de La Liberation. This is a large semi-circular place, with the town hall on the flat edge of the semi-circle. The centre of the Place has a series of water fountains coming straight out of the paving stones, so you are able to walk right over them, which a number of very wet small children obviously had done. The outside of the Place contained a bunch of restaurants. At mid morning, the place was still quite quiet, so we headed off down some side streets and found some local markets and a busy shopping area. Although it's a big city, Dijon had a really good feel to it with a really lively street scene. Sorry to report, but in our short visit we did not see anybody selling mustard.
After Dijon, it was a much longer drive via motorways full of trucks in scorching heat to the Alsace. The Alsace is a series of very small villages and we've chosen one called Ribeauville to camp in for 4 days. The Alsace, home of the Alsatian dog, is very close the the German border and the german influences are very evident. The towns, which some people have described as chocolate box, are much more elaborately decorated than your average French town, but this is reasonably typical of German towns. The local cuisine consists of such favourites as Sauerkrautt, Spleitzly, pork sausages and potatoes.
The campground is of a really good quality and we have a very nice pitch with plenty of shade. The facilities are top notch, the staff are really friendly and it's the sort of place that people come to for a week, so it has more of a “permanent” feel about it.
After pitching our tent, we headed into town centre, which is about a 15 minute walk away. If we thought at Burgundy was full on wine production, it is nothing compared to the Alsace, where they have been growing grapes since about the 3rd century. Today, the whole region is devoted exclusively to growing wine and it is just staggering how much grape production there is. It seems that there are only two things that are important here – grapes and god. Every town is built around a church and everybody lives in the town, so that the productivity of the hillsides are maximised for growing grapes.
Ribeauville is a lovely medium sized village, which means that the main street is a kilometre or so long and has shops, bars, restaurants and wine caves all the way up it. The town can't be much more than three blocks from one side to the other – kinda like Dannevirke, but interesting, so not like Dannevirke at all.Once you've walked up the main street and down a couple of side streets you've pretty much seen the entire town and it is beautiful . You'll see some photos of the town and some of the others that you're about to read about and they are pretty stunning. The locals obviously take a huge amount of time to ensure that the towns look at their absolute best during the summer months.
Our dinner was in one of the restaurants, which served a mixture of more traditional French cuisine as well as the local food. We opted for the more traditional option, but vowed after watching the other diners that we'd be eating cabbage, sausages and potatoes at the next opportunity – when in Rome and all that.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Tuesday 30th – Week 3 – Drive to Nolay / Beaune
OK, last night's dinner was a lie. It was at the restaurant we had had lunch the day before and while it was very nice, was 2 courses for Anne and 3 for me and there were no dancing girls or men carrying banners.
After two days in the hotel, we were up early-ish, showered packed and gone by 9:30. Checking out of the hotel is only marginally easier than packing up the campground, mainly because you have to walk everything to the car from the hotel room, rather than having the car packed right beside the tent. You also have to check the hotel room to make sure you haven't left anything – and yes, we did nearly leave all the camping gear in the wardrobe in the hotel room – and that wasn't deliberate. We had taken it out of the car, because the roof won't go down with the camping gear in the boot and I couldn't be bothered moving it between the back sear and the boot everytime we stopped.
The hotel has been lovely for two days, but it did have an extraordinarily small bathroom – 75cm square is only just big enough for a shower and the toilet was wedged so tightly between the wall and the handbasin that you sort of had to corkscrew yourself by sitting with your legs pointing one way to avoid the wall and your upper body the other way to avoid the handbasin. This was more a mild source of amusement that annoyance and it was very nice to have the two days in the hotel.
The drive today was in the direction of Beaune (pronounced bone), with two stops along the way. The first stop was at the town of Autun, with it's cathedral. The drive to Autun took about two hours, which was very pleasant with the roof down. While we walked around Autun, the temperature was soaring into the 30's, but it was a dry heat, so pleasant to walk in.
After leaving Autun, we stopped 40ks down the road at a small town called Nolay – which we had been told had a nice campground. On closer inspection, it appeared to be quite a distance from the restaurants in town, so we decided to head to Beaune where we had been recommended a couple of campgrounds from our UK camping guide book that was within walking distance of the town centre. The drive from Nolay to Beaune was through wine country, with grape vines covering every square metre of the surrounding hillsides. Everywhere we've been outside of Paris has been a wine “region”, but this was the first time we'd seen grapes planted on such a massive scale.
We arrived in Beaune to darkening skies and at one stage on the drive, drove over a rode with steam rising off it and puddles, so although we didn't encounter any rain, rain was obviously in the air. The 5 minutes it took to pitch the tent was a sweat inducing affair and that was just to hit in the 12 tent pegs. After that, we headed into Beaune at about .2:30 for our first food and drink for the day.
Beaune is a lovely little fortified town in the heart of Burgundy. It has a bustling historic centre, with many restaurants, cafe's and bars. There are also many wine cellars within the walls of the city and many of these were offering tastings and tours. We opted for our usual wine sample of a bottle of the local (this time Pinot Noir, which was served chilled) with a pizza outside in the shade.
The heavens did eventually open, which saw us first sheltering under a shop awning in the late afternoon. The rain shower did very little to reduce the humidity and a repeat performance at 10pm, while we were sitting in the campground bar made only a slight difference, so it was a very warm sleep in our wee tent overnight.
After two days in the hotel, we were up early-ish, showered packed and gone by 9:30. Checking out of the hotel is only marginally easier than packing up the campground, mainly because you have to walk everything to the car from the hotel room, rather than having the car packed right beside the tent. You also have to check the hotel room to make sure you haven't left anything – and yes, we did nearly leave all the camping gear in the wardrobe in the hotel room – and that wasn't deliberate. We had taken it out of the car, because the roof won't go down with the camping gear in the boot and I couldn't be bothered moving it between the back sear and the boot everytime we stopped.
The hotel has been lovely for two days, but it did have an extraordinarily small bathroom – 75cm square is only just big enough for a shower and the toilet was wedged so tightly between the wall and the handbasin that you sort of had to corkscrew yourself by sitting with your legs pointing one way to avoid the wall and your upper body the other way to avoid the handbasin. This was more a mild source of amusement that annoyance and it was very nice to have the two days in the hotel.
The drive today was in the direction of Beaune (pronounced bone), with two stops along the way. The first stop was at the town of Autun, with it's cathedral. The drive to Autun took about two hours, which was very pleasant with the roof down. While we walked around Autun, the temperature was soaring into the 30's, but it was a dry heat, so pleasant to walk in.
After leaving Autun, we stopped 40ks down the road at a small town called Nolay – which we had been told had a nice campground. On closer inspection, it appeared to be quite a distance from the restaurants in town, so we decided to head to Beaune where we had been recommended a couple of campgrounds from our UK camping guide book that was within walking distance of the town centre. The drive from Nolay to Beaune was through wine country, with grape vines covering every square metre of the surrounding hillsides. Everywhere we've been outside of Paris has been a wine “region”, but this was the first time we'd seen grapes planted on such a massive scale.
We arrived in Beaune to darkening skies and at one stage on the drive, drove over a rode with steam rising off it and puddles, so although we didn't encounter any rain, rain was obviously in the air. The 5 minutes it took to pitch the tent was a sweat inducing affair and that was just to hit in the 12 tent pegs. After that, we headed into Beaune at about .2:30 for our first food and drink for the day.
Beaune is a lovely little fortified town in the heart of Burgundy. It has a bustling historic centre, with many restaurants, cafe's and bars. There are also many wine cellars within the walls of the city and many of these were offering tastings and tours. We opted for our usual wine sample of a bottle of the local (this time Pinot Noir, which was served chilled) with a pizza outside in the shade.
The heavens did eventually open, which saw us first sheltering under a shop awning in the late afternoon. The rain shower did very little to reduce the humidity and a repeat performance at 10pm, while we were sitting in the campground bar made only a slight difference, so it was a very warm sleep in our wee tent overnight.
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