Saturday, January 19, 2008
Friday, January 18, 2008
A Sandwich Story
Got up early to pack my small backpack for a little countryside stroll--a sandwich I bought yesterday, a bottle of water, extra socks, raincoat, etc. Then I headed down to the Dijon Ville station to buy a round trip ticket to Barges (a quaint little town ten miles south of the city). After getting the ticket I decided to get a little something to eat because my train didn't leave until 12:49. Why not another sandwich? That way I could eat the old one now and save the fresh one for Barges if I needed it.
So I wandered into a little deli and asked if they had any sandwiches without cheese. (Anyone who knows me understands that dairy doesn't agree with me--I brought a bunch of pills with me to help with that, but before I go on a long walk in the countryside, I figured I would play it safe). The nice man went in the back to make me a sandwich without cheese, because you just don't find any in france that are already made that way. I told him I just wanted ham on it and nothing else, and I was happy when he came back with just that.
However, as I was walking back toward the hotel, eating the sandwich, I discovered that it was, in fact, a ham and butter sandwich. Or, rather, butter with ham. The amount of butter on this sandwich was nothing short of staggering. A small child could have stuck it's arm straight down into the layer of butter up to the shoulder and still not have found the bread. And on the other side of it there was even more. So, I quickly swallowed a pill to combat the few bites I had taken, and figured I would just throw the sandwich away and go get another one. It was only 2 euros so it was no big deal. Pitty I would have to throw away a whole sandwhich, though. What a waste of butter that would be! France's dairy industry must have suffered such a shortage after that sandwich was made, that I feared I would be discarding the last butter sandwich the country would see for months.
Luckily, I passed by a homeless woman on the way to another deli and I gave the sandwich to her. So much better than throwing it away. And imagine how surprised she would be when she realized that she could survive the next year on the butter from that sandwich alone!
I was headed to the deli where I bought the sandwich that was already in my backpack. They put cheese on all their sandwiches, but I can just remove it and throw it away (although now I may consider selling the cheese since the price of dairy has surely skyrocketed).
As I walked along, I passed by another homeless person sitting on the street begging. This time it was an old man holding out a top hat. "Sorry, I'm all out of sandwiches," I said to myself as I passed him.
The regular deli was out of sandwiches too, so I kept walking until I found another one. I chose a ham sandwich with some cheese on it that I could remove later, and the woman behind the counter promptly placed the sandwich in a hot press that melted the cheese all throughout it in a process that would be impossible to reverse without the control of time itself.
The place was busy and I wasn't in the mood to speak french anymore, so I took the sandwich and headed back to the hotel, handing it to the old man as I passed him again.
Then I went up to my room, drank a shot of gin, and ate half of my old sandwich. I had been saving it for today anyway.
So I wandered into a little deli and asked if they had any sandwiches without cheese. (Anyone who knows me understands that dairy doesn't agree with me--I brought a bunch of pills with me to help with that, but before I go on a long walk in the countryside, I figured I would play it safe). The nice man went in the back to make me a sandwich without cheese, because you just don't find any in france that are already made that way. I told him I just wanted ham on it and nothing else, and I was happy when he came back with just that.
However, as I was walking back toward the hotel, eating the sandwich, I discovered that it was, in fact, a ham and butter sandwich. Or, rather, butter with ham. The amount of butter on this sandwich was nothing short of staggering. A small child could have stuck it's arm straight down into the layer of butter up to the shoulder and still not have found the bread. And on the other side of it there was even more. So, I quickly swallowed a pill to combat the few bites I had taken, and figured I would just throw the sandwich away and go get another one. It was only 2 euros so it was no big deal. Pitty I would have to throw away a whole sandwhich, though. What a waste of butter that would be! France's dairy industry must have suffered such a shortage after that sandwich was made, that I feared I would be discarding the last butter sandwich the country would see for months.
Luckily, I passed by a homeless woman on the way to another deli and I gave the sandwich to her. So much better than throwing it away. And imagine how surprised she would be when she realized that she could survive the next year on the butter from that sandwich alone!
I was headed to the deli where I bought the sandwich that was already in my backpack. They put cheese on all their sandwiches, but I can just remove it and throw it away (although now I may consider selling the cheese since the price of dairy has surely skyrocketed).
As I walked along, I passed by another homeless person sitting on the street begging. This time it was an old man holding out a top hat. "Sorry, I'm all out of sandwiches," I said to myself as I passed him.
The regular deli was out of sandwiches too, so I kept walking until I found another one. I chose a ham sandwich with some cheese on it that I could remove later, and the woman behind the counter promptly placed the sandwich in a hot press that melted the cheese all throughout it in a process that would be impossible to reverse without the control of time itself.
The place was busy and I wasn't in the mood to speak french anymore, so I took the sandwich and headed back to the hotel, handing it to the old man as I passed him again.
Then I went up to my room, drank a shot of gin, and ate half of my old sandwich. I had been saving it for today anyway.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Dijon looks good so far
Found a pretty good hotel near the center of the city. The room is no bigger than mine was in Aix-les-Bains but it is so much better overall. The bed is bigger, for one thing. It's just more normal, and I'm loving that. Also, the city, itself, exuded the real "europe" or "france" feeling as I walked through it looking for this place.
The train ride here was pretty good. But the first train was late again! I barely had enough time to catch my connection in Lyon, but I did, and all's well.
Okay, time to think about dinner and how I'm going to see this place tomorrow.
The train ride here was pretty good. But the first train was late again! I barely had enough time to catch my connection in Lyon, but I did, and all's well.
Okay, time to think about dinner and how I'm going to see this place tomorrow.
Waiting for train, out of Aix-les-Bains, in the rain
In a box
With a fox
I do not like them
Sam I am
11:45 am: It's one hour to Lyon and then I change to a TGV and go 1 hour 30 minutes to Dijon. Didn't have much for breakfast because I don't know if the first train will have bathrooms. But I bought a salad which I will devour once I am on the TGV.
Au revoir, Aix-les-Bains! Merci pour touts!
With a fox
I do not like them
Sam I am
11:45 am: It's one hour to Lyon and then I change to a TGV and go 1 hour 30 minutes to Dijon. Didn't have much for breakfast because I don't know if the first train will have bathrooms. But I bought a salad which I will devour once I am on the TGV.
Au revoir, Aix-les-Bains! Merci pour touts!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Nothing at the library, dammit.
Unfortunately, there are no old hotel registers being kept in the town archives here. I guess that part of my journey is lost to history, save for the few lines in my great-grandfather's journal. All in all, though, it was still worth it, coming to this town. I got to stay in the same hotel as he did, and I got to see the type of french town I want to avoid for the rest of this trip LOL. I'm just looking for a place more relaxing. This place is too urban for such an unremarkable town.
Oh, I'm not headed to Bordeaux next, as it would seem that the only two points between which you cannot travel in France is Aix-les-Bains and Bordeaux. Hmm... there may be a reason for that, come to think of it.
Anyhow, I have resigned to give Dijon a chance at satisfying my need for relaxation and calm countryside. It is half way to Paris from here (which is where I catch my train back to Germany) so there will be no doubling back or long side-trips. I've been told by someone well-traveled that Dijon will have just what I am looking for, and so I have high hopes for it.
And if it doesn't, then I'm steaming right through Paris and into London, towards points irish.
Oh, I'm not headed to Bordeaux next, as it would seem that the only two points between which you cannot travel in France is Aix-les-Bains and Bordeaux. Hmm... there may be a reason for that, come to think of it.
Anyhow, I have resigned to give Dijon a chance at satisfying my need for relaxation and calm countryside. It is half way to Paris from here (which is where I catch my train back to Germany) so there will be no doubling back or long side-trips. I've been told by someone well-traveled that Dijon will have just what I am looking for, and so I have high hopes for it.
And if it doesn't, then I'm steaming right through Paris and into London, towards points irish.
Monday, January 14, 2008
It's a little eerie here...
I think I picked the only french town that closes for the entire month of January. Save for a few restaurants and bars (to cater to the town's local inhabitants during it's bleak hibernation) everything else is closed. That is, except for "les pharmacies" that sell high-priced bath products. On every street and on every corner, you see them and the blinking green neon cross they have outside. Imagine the Starbucks situation in the states and you'll have something of an idea.
The main attraction of this town is "Les Thermes"--hot mineral baths to which people flock from all over the world except in January, because those are closed right now too. I guess the pharmacies are part of the whole spa theme here.
My hotel is also closed, but they do accept some guests, thankfully. That being said, I think I'm the only one here in this grand 200 year-old hotel.
Oh, and if you ever come here, tread carefully... There is dog crap everywhere. The barking dogs of Aix-les-Bains that Twain spoke of must have evolved in the last 100 years into seeking more silent means to annoy people.
Don't think I'm not enjoying this place, though. It's so neat to stay where Pop Pop stayed almost 90 years ago. And... I think... I THINK I might be staying in the same wing he stayed in. He wrote that he stayed in room 97 on the 5th floor, and although I'm in room 428, they must have renumbered all the rooms at one point in a weird way. If you count the ground floor as the 1st floor, then I am on the 5th. And sure enough, I opened an old standing closet in my room last night to get the extra pillow, and in the lining of the pillow was printed "Astoria 94". Just three rooms away!
Tomorrow I'm heading down the street to the library to see if they keep the old registers for the hotel. Hotel Astoria doesn't have a guest register anymore, so that might be my only chance to see his name written in one.
Okay, it's time for me to start thinking about dinner. Hope everyone is well back in the states. I'm in this town for two more nights and then I think I'm heading to Bordeaux.
The main attraction of this town is "Les Thermes"--hot mineral baths to which people flock from all over the world except in January, because those are closed right now too. I guess the pharmacies are part of the whole spa theme here.
My hotel is also closed, but they do accept some guests, thankfully. That being said, I think I'm the only one here in this grand 200 year-old hotel.
Oh, and if you ever come here, tread carefully... There is dog crap everywhere. The barking dogs of Aix-les-Bains that Twain spoke of must have evolved in the last 100 years into seeking more silent means to annoy people.
Don't think I'm not enjoying this place, though. It's so neat to stay where Pop Pop stayed almost 90 years ago. And... I think... I THINK I might be staying in the same wing he stayed in. He wrote that he stayed in room 97 on the 5th floor, and although I'm in room 428, they must have renumbered all the rooms at one point in a weird way. If you count the ground floor as the 1st floor, then I am on the 5th. And sure enough, I opened an old standing closet in my room last night to get the extra pillow, and in the lining of the pillow was printed "Astoria 94". Just three rooms away!
Tomorrow I'm heading down the street to the library to see if they keep the old registers for the hotel. Hotel Astoria doesn't have a guest register anymore, so that might be my only chance to see his name written in one.
Okay, it's time for me to start thinking about dinner. Hope everyone is well back in the states. I'm in this town for two more nights and then I think I'm heading to Bordeaux.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Made it to Aix-les-Bains
It was a little tough, with the late train from Germany and two other trains changing tracks 2 minutes before they were scheduled to leave. But now I am here... And as I write this, I am sitting in a room at the Hotel Astoria: where my great grandfather stayed after WWI. In fact, he stayed here in 1919 on January 7th (my future birthday at the time). I'll go into more detail later. I'm going out for dinner and drinks.
Oh, by the way... Twain was right about this place! I opened my balcony door and heard church bells ringing--at 5:47 pm and again at 6:12. Not nearly on the hour! Look up his piece on Aix-les-Bains and you'll know what I'm talking about. Great read regardless. Let's hope he was also right about how well you sleep in spite of all the noise. There is supposed to be something in the air here.
Dinerons!
Oh, by the way... Twain was right about this place! I opened my balcony door and heard church bells ringing--at 5:47 pm and again at 6:12. Not nearly on the hour! Look up his piece on Aix-les-Bains and you'll know what I'm talking about. Great read regardless. Let's hope he was also right about how well you sleep in spite of all the noise. There is supposed to be something in the air here.
Dinerons!
In Switzerland on a train en route to France
Heading to Geneva now. My train out of Germany was 30 minutes late so I missed my original connection. Luckily, there was another connection through Switzerland two hours later. If there are no problems finding my new connection in Geneva, then I should be in Aix-les-Bains, France in a few hours.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Julia, j'ai cherché le vin chaud!
Found the elusive hot wine my french teacher was always talking about. Found it first in Germany, however. I recommend it.
.JPG)
.JPG)
Heidelberg
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
.JPG)
Walked around Heidelberg today with Joel. Went up to the old castle and then wanered through the streets for a while. Had more real Guinness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)