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Published: August 28th 2011
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Saturday, 27th August, 2011
Paris, France
The last three days have been spent travelling 1500km from Vienna to Paris, with stopovers in Munich, Germany, and Strasssburg, France.
Travelling by car in Europe is somewhat different than travelling in Australia. The German Autobahns are fantastic, mainly three lane highways, and one is able to drive fast. We regularly travelled at speeds of 140 to 160km/h. The traffic flows well, trucks staying (mostly) in the slow lane, and cars travelling in the next lane, using the third for overtaking the slower moving traffic. The only downside to this speed of travel is that taking photographs is very tricky, and when aiming for a pastoral scene of cows on a green hillside, one is likely to end up with a blurry picture of a traffic sign or lamppost. The stopping opportunities are good, roadhouses and restaurants are plentiful, and serve good proper meals, often buffet style or from foodwarmers overflowing with various meats, potato dishes etc. The restrooms are something else. In Germany, you need to go with your wallet, and have coins at the ready. I’m glad I was never in such a hurry as it still takes me some time to
fumble through the coins to get the right ones. 75cents entered into a machine, lets you in through the turnstiles, and gives you a 50cent voucher, redeemable at the service station shop on purchases. The toilets are very clean, and safe to sit on, as the flushing action activates a seat cleaner which comes out of the cistern part with a cleaning agent the seat spins around 360degrees under the cleaning part, and then it returns to the back, ready for the next customer. I was totally unprepared for all this action the first time I flushed. What the..?? No I wasn’t having a hallucination, the seat is really spinning. A transformers (more than meets the eye) toilet ready to save the planet from evil.
In Austria, there are no cash machines or turnstiles, or spinning toilet seats, but there is however an attendant (usually grumpy) sitting with a plate into which you are supposed to place your 50 cent coin before going in. Once again with the crossing my legs and fumbling about for coins. In France things are much more relaxed. There are no turnstiles or grumpy toilet attendants, no payment required at all… and no toilet seats
either. This time squatting not fumbling.
The restaurants have been generally great, some have excellent fresh salad bars, good coffee and plenty of seating. Others have not. Yesterday in the Champagne region, near Reims, we stopped at a rest stop for lunch. We had been travelling on a tollroad which was nearly empty of cars, wondering why the traffic was so light. Well… here they all were at one roadhouse. It was jampacked full. The noise level sounded like feeding time at the zoo, and people with trays were going in every which way. It was a self service buffet style restaurant where you choose what you like and go to the long queue for the overworked cashier. Once this hurdle is completed, (in French which I know not at all – so hand signals at the ready) one finds the cutlery and serviette baskets where a short, plump, middle aged, pissed off Frenchwoman is hurling clean knives and forks into the baskets with force. Stand back for a moment to ensure your personal safety as she leans back preparing for the next throw like a world class cricketer bowling a fast ball. There were no serviettes. No clean tables
either, and the children were all still screaming. The joys of travel. After we got over our urge to RUN AWAY, we just howled with laughter. What a circus.
The cities we stayed in were lovely. Munich was a beautiful city, however having been totally spoiled by the grandeur of Vienna, we found the shopping to be of more interest than any monuments and buildings. We arrived during rush hour only to find that the street which the satnav wanted to lead us to was closed for repairs. We were close to the hotel, and thought that parking and finding the place on foot may be safer, and we pulled into a parking garage. We got the ticket, the door opened, and we were facing a shipping container sized box into which the lights indicated we should drive. There was no other way out, we had to get in. we felt very nervous when the doors closed behind us, and we started to rise up – My god! We’re in a carlift!!! We just looked at eachother in surprise. When we reached the top, the doors opened and we were able to drive out on the fourth floor. Breathing a
sigh of relief, we got out of the car with just one thing on our minds… we’d have to do all that again just to get out. Our hotel (the Excelsior) was in a pedestrian mall, with restaurants and shopping. The day was still hot, in the mid thirties, and after getting into our room we discovered that there was no airconditioning, and the window opened only a slit. The minibar fridge was not working either, and the cold drinks were hot. AARRGGHH!! Being hot and tired, this was just not on. Leena marched to the reception, made a complaint, very politely, and was pleased to be offered an upgrade to an airconditioned room by the very professional and friendly reception worker. Much better. The next morning, it was still hot, so walking around the shopping mall we found that right next door was a handbag shop and a shoe outlet. We went a little mad, I blame the heat and the fact that all the shoes were discounted, and after an hour or so of trying on shoes, I had found six pairs between which I couldn’t choose. “ I’d like to have these shoes” I said auf Deutch.
“Alle Sechs?” ”Ja, Alle Sechs bitte”. My sister was just as bad, but we got great shoes.
In Strassburg, another beautiful city with an old town of tudor style, half timbered houses, narrow cobblestone alleys and too many one way streets for the uninitiated to navigate by car easily. Even the satnav sent us in the wrong direction. Our hotel, the Regent Petit France, straddled a river, and was a lovely place to stay.
We had a dinner reservation at ‘le Tire Bouchon’, a traditional little restaurant serving traditional foods of Alsace Lorraine; a mixture of French and German cooking. It was my first chance to try escargot (snails). The traditional method of cooking them is in butter, herbs and garlic. Six small, tasty parcels of yum. I was sad that I hadn’t ordered the dozen, but the main meal made me pleased I hadn’t eaten more, the cheeks of pork were beautifully and simply cooked in a Pinot Noir wine, served with lashings of mashed potato. A crème Brulee was the finale to the meal. Another fantastic dining experience featuring local foods and wines. The waiter was a typical caricature of an elderly Frenchman. Lean, stooped shoulders, beaky nose
and when he smiled his face broke into a million lines and his smile reached from ear to ear. He walked between the tables smiling and rubbing his hands together, it was obvious that he loved his job. No cutlery being hurled around at this place.
Arriving in Paris, we unpacked, and decided to sample the local area for dinner and a look at the local life. There is a little café across the road from the hotel, le Globe café. It serves French dishes at very reasonable prices, 16 euro for a two course meal. I chose to have the fois gras, and an entrecot of beef. Very French, very nice. Then the local life happened. There were many Parisians there having a drink at the bar, sitting to dine, a family was sitting behind us and there was some funny business going on before there was a smash of glass, shouting voices and two men ran outside to have a bit of a barney. A few minutes later, everyone came back in, all smiles, and the excitement seemed to be over.
However for us, the excitement of being in Paris is just beginning.
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