Sunday & Monday: Strasbourg & Dijon
Sunday in Catholic France. It and Monday are apparently a day of rest for many people in the workforce, judging by the number of places that have been closed. Pas de probleme for us, as long as we can get coffee and food and a train ride from Strasbourg to Dijon.
Strasbourg, like a lot of places in Europe, has cobblestone streets and sidewalks. Last year, for our trip to Italy, we purchase suitcases that we can wear on our backs. These things are made for people at least 30 years younger than we, but lest we be made out to be wusses, we put the damned things on our backs to save our luggage wheels. (A few trips ago, we had luggage wheels that disintegrated, making it necessary for us to purchase and use black electrical tape to refurbish the wheels. Although Dan now travels with electrical tape, we don’t really want to have to take those measures.)
Dan, as you can see, is ecstatic about carrying his bag.
After we got to our train, I realized that I had left two Mort Subites in the refrigerator in Strasbourg. I ask for a moment of silence for these two lost krieks.
😢
Okay. Once we got to Dijon, we were able to wheel our luggage to our apartment. However (and I HAVE to start looking for this information), our place did not have an elevator. And we were on the 3rd floor - the European version. These were circular stairs, but like those you would take up a turet in a castle. Geez Louise... This one almost did me in. Nevertheless, she (I) persisted and made it. (On the way down, we wore them on our backs and I don’t know about Dan’s, but my knees were letting me know that they were pissed.
Here is a photo of the Notre Dame of Dijon... quite different from the other Notres Dames that we’ve seen.
Here is Dan, doing what he does. What you cannot see is me, waiting patiently.
Thank goodness we did not order whatever that was. I had a chicken and mushroom terrine and a chicken kabob with Roquefort sauce. Neither tasted like bricks or brains.
This was an interesting stop, because we learned that the members of the winemakers’ association were called “cul blues” or blue arses. Wonder what their logo was?
There were many sights along the Owl Trail, and Dan will post those photos. Here is my last one of Dijon: a lovely park with a reservoir that was originally created as a place to get drinking water, I think.
On to Paris!
Strasbourg, like a lot of places in Europe, has cobblestone streets and sidewalks. Last year, for our trip to Italy, we purchase suitcases that we can wear on our backs. These things are made for people at least 30 years younger than we, but lest we be made out to be wusses, we put the damned things on our backs to save our luggage wheels. (A few trips ago, we had luggage wheels that disintegrated, making it necessary for us to purchase and use black electrical tape to refurbish the wheels. Although Dan now travels with electrical tape, we don’t really want to have to take those measures.)
Dan, as you can see, is ecstatic about carrying his bag.
After we got to our train, I realized that I had left two Mort Subites in the refrigerator in Strasbourg. I ask for a moment of silence for these two lost krieks.
😢
Okay. Once we got to Dijon, we were able to wheel our luggage to our apartment. However (and I HAVE to start looking for this information), our place did not have an elevator. And we were on the 3rd floor - the European version. These were circular stairs, but like those you would take up a turet in a castle. Geez Louise... This one almost did me in. Nevertheless, she (I) persisted and made it. (On the way down, we wore them on our backs and I don’t know about Dan’s, but my knees were letting me know that they were pissed.
Here is a photo of the Notre Dame of Dijon... quite different from the other Notres Dames that we’ve seen.
Here is Dan, doing what he does. What you cannot see is me, waiting patiently.
Besides seeing some sights, we went to one of the famous mustard houses to do tastings and purchasing. They have all kinds of mustard, from sweet to bitter, flavored with different things like cassis (for which Dijon is known), anise (GAG), Burgandy wine, and hot peppers. I’ve never been to a mustard tasking, and it was interesting. One little kid tasted one and said something about it being too much for a child. Poor little kid. Some enterprising someone could set up a bar or drink places right outside and make a lot of euros.
Of course, we needed to plan our dinner. Although restaurants are often lightly populated when we go to dinner (7 PM seems to be the early bird schedule), you really need to have reservations, and many places were closed for Sunday. When we were walking to our apartment, we ran across Grill Laure, which was scheduled to be open for dinner, so we made reservations. Once we started checking out the menu (and I ran everything through Google Translate, I found the following description:
This morning, we took the Owl Tour, which is something that sends you all over the Centre Ville to see the things of interest. To take the tour, one downloads the app and follows these little guys, which are embedded in the sidewalks and streets:
This was an interesting stop, because we learned that the members of the winemakers’ association were called “cul blues” or blue arses. Wonder what their logo was?
On to Paris!
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