France, Part 1-Arrival

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Note: This entry describes events that occurred in August 2006 in Dijon, France. Please keep checking this blog for more updated entries.



August 24, 2006- I arrived in Lyon, France via plane at the St. Exuperey Airport from Frankfurt am Main, Germany and Miami, FL respectively. I had plenty of time before my train ride from Lyon Part-Deux to Dijon (about 2 hours) so I decided to take a coffee break. I went over to a small cafe in the airport that also served pastries. I ordered along with my espresso, a tarte au citron (lemon tart), and fromage blanc (lit. translated as white cheese). The tarte au citron was very good; it had a very strong lemon flavor and the texture of the custard was very soft and creamy, however the crust was too hard to eat with a fork. I had no choice but to eat the rest of the tart by using my hands. The crust was good and edible, it was just as hard as a cookie. I then tried my fromage blanc, which tasted and looked like thin yogurt. The cashier put sugar on top of it upon my request after I was asked if that's how I'd like it presented. The sugar did help to cut the fromage blanc's tangy flavor, which I enjoyed however I had no choice but to save the rest for later because I was full after eating the tarte au citron.


After leaving the cafe I headed towards the airport's exist to search for a taxi. Thirty minutes later, I arrived at Lyon Part-Deux. My first priority was to exchange my e-tickets from eurail's website which I had purchased a month earlier. The ticket booth area of the train station was rather empty at the time so I was able to exchange my tickets quickly. I now had to look for my platform, however I wasn't sure which one it was and its location. I finally found the information office, where one of the employees explained to me where I needed to go.

Forty minutes later, my train arrived. I was traveling second class for this trip, in a compartment. My train was scheduled to arrive in Dijon an hour and forty minutes later, which gave me plenty of time to relax. However, fifteen minutes away from Dijon, I got confused at got off at the train station in Nuit Saint Georges! I immediately went inside the train station to confirm my current location and see if I could use my ticket. I was told that was impossible since the next train would not arrive for another hour, so I had to purchase a new one. The ticket was only 4 euros, not too bad, but I was now waiting an extra 1 more than I would have if I had stayed on the train.

All I could do now was sit and wait. The train station was tiny, it was literally one room, with only two tracks on the outside for trains going north or south. there wasn't much seating inside so I decided to sit on one of the benches outside near my platform. For the first thirty minutes I was seated alone-I didn't have a book to read so all I could do was people watch. I saw a few people walk around inside and outside the station, and at one point the station's conductor took a bicycle ride from one track to the other and back.

My stint of sitting alone was ended when this very interesting middle aged woman decided to sit next to me. She was very friendly; she immediately greeted me with a bonjour and I responded back. However, what made her interesting was the fact that her sandeled shoes contained purple-stained feet. I asked her, "why are your feet purple, madam?" She responded back saying that she was making wine I think or it might have been creme du cassis. I then asked her more about this enterprise. Apparently her family was in the alcohol making industry, but she told me that this was a common thing in Nuit Saint Georges. She then changes the subject asking, "So where are you going?" I tell her that I'm traveling to Dijon to start (what at the time was supposed to be) year long study at CIEF at the University Burgundy. She then said that she was going there too, but to see her son, who was living and working there. She then asks where I'm from. "I'm American," I tell her. "Oh," she said. Then there was silence. I then decided to ask her about Dijon and how long the trip would take via train from here. "It will only take 15 minutes," she says, "It's very close." I then nod and begin to daydream about my hotel accommodations and what they would be like. I was anxious to get to take a shower and get to a nice warm, comfortable bed. She and I went together on the train, however our conversation and companionship ended once we got on because our tickets designated assigned seats.

Fifteen minutes later, I arrive at the Dijon-Ville train station. The time is around 6 PM GMT. I take a taxi from the train station to my hotel. Once at the hotel, I take a few minutes to lie on the bed. by this point, I am starting to feel jetlag and fatigue from my trip, however I was also hungry. I finally gathered up the strength to go look for a place to eat, or at least to get take-out. I finally found a small sandwich shop a block from my hotel (I don't remember the name of it sadly, it's been so long). I asked them if I could do take out, and they said that I could. I ordered a tomato-cheese tart and an Orangina to drink. I was about to go back to my hotel, when I decided to wander around a little bit. Ahead of me I could see a huge, Gothic cathedral. since it was my first time in Europe, especially France and Dijon, I just had to take a glimps inside.

I went inside of what I later found out was the Cathedral du Notre Dame (every city in France has one). Once inside, I just couldn't get over how tall it was inside! The cathedral had numerous columns and butresses holding up the ceiling, which had a concave oval shape to it. Around the walls, were original tapestries dating from the 12th century, still in good condition. There were a few shrines, one to the Virgin Mary, entitled "La Dame Noir" or the Black Virgin Mary. According to the inscription below, this she is considered an iconic figure of Dijonais history since the 12th century because she is credited with protecting the city from harm. One of the most noted legends related to her, was during WWII, when the Nazis tried to invade. According to legend, before the Nazis were scheduled to arrive the Dijonais prayed to the Black Virgin Mary to protect their city. A few days later, the Nazis changed their mind about invading Dijon and went somewhere else. The people, therefore, credited the Black Virgin for granting them safety. I remember being touched by this story, especially since I am Roman Catholic. Right after this brief tour, I decided to go into a little boulengerie next door, where I bought a baguette. On my way back to the hotel, I passed an area known as Les Halles, which features an indoor market which has existed since the 14th century I believe. Right across the street, was a butchers that I frequented for the majority of my trip (unfortunately I do not remember the name of this place, but it's right across from Les Halles on your left side.) I'm not sure if it's still there, but they had a wonderful selection of meats, fruits, vegetables, cheeses, wine, chocolate and other delectables of the area. I remember buying some chocolate and cheese, and I think I bought some water I don't remember. However, after this purchase I went home, and ate my humble dinner (note the cheese, bread and chocolate were for later, I only ate the tart and drank the Orangina). the tart was very simple, it tasted like tomato, goat cheese, egg and dijon mustard in a flaky, puff pasty crust (now this I could eat with a fork). For those of you unfamiliar with Orangina, it's an orange flavored soda commonly found in France and Belgium (I didn't see it in other countries at the time, only in those). I will admit I fell in love with that soda the moment I tried it and ever since I have made an effort to buy it when I see it in the US. It tastes nothing like Slice or Fanta Orange; it does tastes like fresh squeezed orange juice with seltzer water-it's very refreshing, tangy and tasty! After dinner, I watched some tv, called my mother and then went to sleep.

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