Day 21 -- The Long Journey Home

Our flight home left at some horrible hour that my mind has conveniently blocked out from memory. I was nervous about not having enough time to get to the airport and return our rental, especially since we didn't have good directions to the airport. Once on the main freeway, we figured it'd be pretty well marked but at the last second, the signage got really confusing and I was pretty sure that we'd exited too early. Of course we were now in bumper-to-bumper traffic that was barely moving and I knew it would take forever to get on the road that I thought we wanted. For once, I'm happy to say that I was wrong. We were definitely headed in the direction of the airport!


Traffic remained much worse than we'd anticipated so put us a bit behind schedule. It didn't make it any better that, once at the airport, we had no idea which terminal we were supposed to be in. Silly us. We thought it was the norm for airports to post signs directing you to the appropriate terminal based on your airline. We later saw that there were such signs but they were tiny and basically out of sight from passing drivers. We were flying Delta (operated by Air France) so found the rental car drop off location near the Air France sign that we'd finally spotted. We unloaded the car (including the carseat), got Isla all settled in the stroller and went to drop off our keys only for the attendant to tell us that we were in the wrong terminal (apparently there are multiple Air France terminals?) and that it was a long walk so we'd be better off driving.

Arggg! Now we were really starting to cut it close on time! We rushed back to the car, threw everything in (I held Isla in my lap rather than bother with the carseat--tsk tsk) and sped off to the next terminal. We finally got the car taken car of and so we hurried off to ticketing, this time at the Delta counter. One of the airline workers looked at our tickets and directed us to a specific line where we could check in. We waited for a while and finally got to the counter only to have the lady type away silently for awhile, frowning all the while. Not looking good. Before long, she informed us that she couldn't check us in for our flight. Why on earth not!?! We were told we were at the counter for Delta international flights, and ours, apparently, was not considered an international flight since we'd be making a stop first in Amsterdam. Oh, of course. We need to walk all the way around to the opposite side of the terminal to the domestic Air France counter to check in. Good golly! How on earth are even the seasoned travelers to know how to sift through all this so and so operated by so and so flight business!? WHICH DESK DO WE CHECK IN AT if two airlines are listed on your ticket??!

By this time we were all sweating bullets. We RAN around the terminal and finally got the mess all sorted out and our baggage checked. We even had enough time to grab a chocolate croissant and a cafe au lait and espresso before boarding our flight. We made the quick hop over to Amsterdam, then boarded our flight to Seattle. The rest is all a blur, which must mean it was horrible and I am blocking it out. Or maybe it was completely uneventful since I don't remember any of it. I'm pretty sure Isla did fairly well on the flight home, but I guess I'll never be sure.

All in all, we had an incredible and memorable trip. Spending 3 straight weeks traveling with my best friend and baby girl? I would do it again in a heartbeat! We couldn't have chosen a better age to travel with Isla--she was such a star! Sometimes I look back on this whole thing and think "Were we nuts!?" I think not.

So, thanks Uncle Sam! I'd say that was a tax return well spent!

The end. Au revoir.

Day 20 -- First Father's Day!

I had lofty plans of completing my France posts before we made it through July. I figured I would pump out a post a day, particularly since I'd already composed most of the written part for days 13-19 while we were traveling. For that reason, I never did document the events of days 20 and 21, figuring my memory would serve me well enough.

Well, it hasn't. Neither Graham nor I can remember much of these two blurry days of travel. I will do my best to recall the major high points but this is bound to be a shorter post (much to some of your excitement, I'm sure).

We packed up and hit the road early as we had to make it all the way from Eguisheim to Paris, more than a 5 hour drive without stopping. I don't remember what we did for breakfast or lunch (gasp!) We had a little bit of trouble finding our hotel as our Google directions were unclear and the road names were not easily visible. We sort of guessed our way, knowing generally which direction to head. I think we earned couple extra pats on the back seeing that we actually found the place in all of Paris! The other magical (or unbelievable?) part was that we made it there by about 1 PM! A miracle!

Our hotel was awesome. It was a little further down the metro line from downtown from our previous Paris hotel (and was in a slightly shadier area) but we literally had a metro stop right outside our door, which was our main goal. Oh yeah, and it was ridiculously cheap. We were given a room on the 4th floor (the top) of an old brick building with rich carpeting and a wide staircase lined with books. I couldn't believe how big our room was, particularly given the price.

It was Father's Day (Father's Day in Paris!) and so Isla and I gave Graham the little gift we'd picked up in Chamonix (coasters with vintage-looking pictures of skiers and scenes in the Alps). We left our room almost instantly so as to maximize our last half-day in Paris. It was Graham's pick and so we caught the metro and headed to the Museo d'Orsay where we saw paintings by the most famous impressionist artists including Van Gogh, Renoir, Monet, Manet and Gaugin. I was blown away by the impressionist art (which I didn't think I liked). The colors are so much brighter in person! The pieces just pop. Graham has always loved the work of Van Gogh and his pieces definitely were my favorite too.

Ah ha. Lunch is coming back to me now. After making it halfway through the museum, I was about to keel over with hunger so we grabbed a quick sandwich and coke from the museum's cafe. Nothing fancy, but food nonetheless.

Rejuvenated, we returned the art, whizzing through the rest of the paintings just before closing time. Outside, a small crowd had gathered to watch a roller skating/blading duo who were doing all sorts of speed skating tricks with cones on the sidewalk. We sat and watched the entertainment for awhile which also included a really creepy crazy man who kept following oblivious people and mocking them for all the crowd to see.

I was really glad that we'd spent our larger chunk of Paris time at the beginning of our trip when it'd been 90 degrees out. Only 2 weeks later, the weather at plummeted more than 30 degrees to the chilly 50s. The locals were even sporting winter scarves for warmth. What a contrast!

We went on a long walk along the River Seine and then spent a good while trying to figure out where we would go to eat (the stakes were high as we wanted our last meal in France to be a good one!) After going to a couple places only to find them closed (it was Sunday), we finally decided to head back to the trusty Rue Cler neighborhood, first stopping at the Eiffel Tower for a classic "Father's Day in Paris" picture.

We got a little distracted by the screaming and cheering coming from the steps of a nearby building so we wandered over. World cup games were being broad casted on a gigantic screen and people were going crazy. Such fun. Anyway, so we walked back to Rue Cler and I'm really glad we did. We had an awesome dinner at Tribeca Italian Restaurant! Again, I don't remember the details exactly but we started with a salad topped with the most amazing log of goat cheese tucked inside puff pastry. Next, Graham had a delicious and creamy mushroom pasta dish and I had who knows what but I'm pretty sure it was amazing. We sipped glorious French Rose for one last time while making friends with our table neighbors who were fellow American (Rick Steves!) travelers and who had taken a liking to Isla.

Of course we stopped for one last helping of gelato on Rue Cler following dinner before climbing on the metro and making our way back to the hotel. Graham really wanted to do some touring of the city at night but I was beat and so was Isla and we knew we had a long (and early!) day of traveling awaiting us in the morning so we opted to hit the sack.

Day 19 -- The Concert

We awoke to find, surprise surprise, it was raining. Poop. It was Saturday and, when we'd looked at the weather forecast a week ago, Saturday was supposed to be when the sun would return. Not so.

Armed with an umbrella, we hit the streets of Eguisheim in search of two things: breakfast and indoor seating. We found a little cafe that was open and ordered their breakfast special, gran cafes with our choice of tart (G had cherry, I had blueberry). It was pretty much like eating pie for breakfast, one of Graham's favorite indulgences. We were both pretty tired and frustrated that the rain was yet again spoiling our plans (i.e. we were in desperate need of that coffee!)

Meanwhile, Isla was expressing herself with her recently-discovered whiny voice. She's started making CONSTANT noises when we are eating, which has proven to be an extreme test of both of our patience. It wouldn't be so bad if she were babbling happily but it really does sound like she's complaining and if you don't keep a continuous flow of food shoveled into her mouth, the sounds only get louder. She continues to whine even when given a bite of food, it just turns into a closed-mouth-humm-whine.

Her serenade lasted almost 30 straight minutes at this particular breakfast. Thankfully, the neighboring tables seemed more entertained than annoyed (we haven't always been so lucky). This led Graham to say some appreciative words that I so needed to hear: "I don't know how you do it! I don't think I could do this everyday." Well, it certainly isn't always like this but I agreed that it is quite challenging when I am having an "off" day (like I was on this day) and am short on patience. We made amends with the situation by ordering more coffee, this time espressos.

Isla was in need of a nap and we wanted to see a couple sites so we opted to go for a drive. We made it to the oober cute village of Riquewihr. Next time we come to this region, I'd like to spend more time there.

It seemed a bit more touristy, peppered with shops and little restaurants. We indulged in a cheese pretzel and determined it was the best pretzel we'd ever eaten. Isla concurred and demanded her share when she saw that we were eating and she was not. We stopped at a cellar to try the area's famous Cremant d'Alsace (a sparkling wine).

We drove back to Colmar to grab a bite of lunch and get in line for the concert. We found a fun patisserie and ordered a tomato quiche and a puff pastry stuffed with meat (poultry maybe?) The ladies working there loved Isla and we had a "conversation" with them. It's amazing how much communication can actually taken place despite a language barrier. We ate standing up in the shop. Graham was busy paying at the counter when things got interesting....A group of college-aged looking boys entered, carrying a video camera. One of the guys was dresses as superman. I'm not sure if it was a scavenger hunt, bachelor party or what, but they approached me, hooting and hollering a talking loudly in French. They held out a basket to me that was filled with stick-on tattoos and condoms. I tried to get rid of them by saying "English, English" and shaking my head but of course that didn't deter them. I'm not quite sure, but I'm pretty sure they wanted me to pick a body part and affix a tattoo on Mr. Superman because they pointed to the tattoo and then at his face, arm etc. Then, out of nowhere, he lifts up his cape to reveal his exposed butt cheek as another option. Meanwhile, oblivious Graham was still paying at the counter. I tried to get his attention in my most stern voice "Graham! I need you over here!!!" I didn't know what else to do to get these guys to leave me alone. Finally they gave up and ran out but not before capturing my beet red face on camera. I'm sure if you do a search on You Tube, you can find the footage...

We quickly ate our dessert quickly, a Chocolat Boule (a small, round, ball of layered cake and meringue, covered with a delicious fudgey chocolate sauce) and then headed to the church to get in line for the concert.

Graham bounced Isla in the front pack to try to facilitate a quick nap in hopes that (miraculously!) she would refrain from her constant hum whine during the concert. Oh I am SOOO glad we happened on this concert as it was certainly a trip highlight. I have never heard music more beautiful. And to be in such a beautiful cathedral, surrounded by stained glass, with gothic-style arches high above us.

The acoustics were incredible and no microphones were used. I'm not sure if I've ever been to a boys choir concert before but Graham enlightened me that we probably heard at least five choirs in different combinations. The younger boys sang the soprano parts (man can they sing high!) and then older men/college-aged boys sang bass and tenor. There were some amazingly rich and unusual chords. The director was a grand woman, wearing a poofy red taffeta ballgown.

Isla did so well. She listened silently to the music and then, when she started to get ancy toward the very end, I handed her chunks of baguette that I'd snuck in to munch on. At one point, I looked over at Graham and we were both tearing up while Miss Isla sat there chomping away on her hunk of bread.

For the grand finale, another choir, that had been sitting in the audience, joined the men on the stage. There must have been at least 150 or more in total. They performed "Praise to the Lord the Almighty..." accompanied by brass and organ. The volume of the piece gave me goosebumps. If ever I heard a song of praise to God, it was this!!! The director had her arms fully raised and was swinging them around in a way I'd never seen before. The piece was in French but I knew what they were singing.

Graham and I stood in the back, each with an arm around the other, listening, again with tears in our eyes. I won't ever be able to describe this experience in a way that does it justice. I will certainly never forget it. I had anticipated hearing beautiful music but ended up having a rich time of worship. WOW!

We returned to Eguisheim and ate at our hotel's restaurant. I'd loved my chicken and spaetzle dish so much that I decided to order it again. Graham saw a plate of steak with cream sauce at a neighboring table and wanted it. We ordered Edelzheiter to share. Graham's steak arrived sauce-less and he was quite disappointed. He was understandably tired of not knowing what he was ordering so I ended up trading meals with him. I wasn't nearly as impressed by our hotel's cooking but my opinion might have been dampened by a very vocal Isla who again tested our patience with constant fussing. She was tired and had messy pants (she'd been sticking to her every other dinner routine) so I took her upstairs to get ready for bed.

As we've traveled around, we've noticed that most everyone has been quite charmed by and interactive with Isla, with the exception of the Germans that is (sorry Tash!) I'm not sure what it is but the very few times we were given a disdainful look when entering a restaurant Isla, it came from German-speakers. I'm not sure what that's about...maybe it's a fluke?

Day 18 -- Alsace (Eguisheim and Colmar)

We awoke early to another rainy day in Burgundy. Oh well even despite the fact that the longest dry spell during our visit lasted 40 minutes, we still were charmed by Beaune and have added it to the "We Want to Go Back" list. Graham said it was in his top 2, second only to Paris. I haven't ranked my favs yet but it's definitely in the top three!

We enjoyed our breakfast conversation with Isabelle's guests (all spoke English!) and then were on our way. We made it to our destination, Eguisheim, in time for lunch which was a first. We loved our room and would definitely stay there again.

See how the bed is raised about one foot off the floor? This is where Isla really perfected her crawling skills, making laps under the bed and back around.

This is the view from outside our window, one of the most famous in Eguisheim. And to think we only paid about 70 bucks for it!

 The town is SO cute, like Leavenworth on steroids. The Alsace region is on the French and German border and so we hoped to get a taste of Germany without even crossing the border (the area has switched hands between the two countries multiple times).

The sun decided to grace us with it's rare presence so we dined outside at a cafe. I tried the local specialty, tarte flambee, like a pizza with onion, bacon and cheese with a side salad. I paired it with one of the region's whites, Edelzweiter Graham had some sort of meat wrapped in pastry, a side salad and a glass of riesling.

Following lunch, we roaming the adorable streets and located this picture-famous church. It just so happens that I worked on a puzzle over Christmas at the Crozier's that feature this very scene. Cool!

Back again in front of the famous higgle-dee piggle-dee street.

The storks of Alsace. Their nests could be spotted everywhere!

We stopped in a couple cellars try sample the local specialties before making the short drive up the hill to Cinq Tours (Five Towers although we were only able to locate three...) where we could look down on the towns below.

This is where Isla first discovered the game "chase." Graham would sneak up behind her and say "I'm gonna get you" and then grab her legs and she would squeal and shriek. So fun!

Next we headed to the larger (but still cute) city of Colmar. We followed Rick Steve's self-guided walk and saw the Customs House, Petite Venise (pictured below), the Pfister House and the House of Heads.

When we passed by the city's gorgeous St. Martin Cathedral, we heard the most amazing music coming from inside. Graham just had to get inside so we walked the entire perimeter to find every door either locked or guarded by staff of some sort. We were told the door was "firme" (closed) but that answer did not appease Graham. We stood with our ears to a side door and listened for a while. Finally we found some who knew what was going on AND spoke English (double bonus!) and she told us that what we were hearing was the rehearsal for the 25th anniversary Colmar Boys Choir concert that was going to take place the following day. Best of all, she told us it was FREE but was going to be packed. There was no way we were going to miss this so we mentally adjusted our itinerary for the next day so we could attend.

We found a cute restaurant in Colmar called Chez Hansi where the waitresses were decked out in their lederhosen. I ordered another regional specialty, poulet au Riesling, chicken cooked slowly in Riesling, served alongside homemade spaetzle. Oh. My. Goodness. Uh-may-zing!! I decided that I needed to figure out how to make it once home (which I have...but it wasn't quite as good as the real thing, maybe because I baked off on the butter. But just a bit).  There is something so comforting about spaetzle. I had Riesling along with. Graham also went very traditional and decided to brave the choucroute garnie (sauerkraut and sausage) plate. He was a bit surprised when his plate arrived as a literal mountain of sauerkraut with ham and sausage links propped all around the sides. Such a manly meal! He is not a beer drinker but since German beers are supposedly the best, he decided to go for it.

Unfortunately the beers were not listed on the menu and we couldn't understand a lick of what the waitress was saying so all he knows is that what he tried was "blonde." He liked it so he was pretty excited as he's been trying to like beer for quite some time. I tried a sip and have yet to understand why people drink the stuff...

Day 17 -- "This car is filthy!"

Graham's theme phrase of the day: "Just think how pretty this would be if it were sunny!" Our hopes were high that the weather would improve as our hostess told us yesterday was supposed to be the last day of rain. We awoke to find that it was raining. Even harder. I was trying to have a good attitude but after a week of poor weather, I was having a hard time not focusing on how much extra we'd spent to travel in June so that we could enjoy warm weather.

Breakfast consisted of baguette with spreads, homemade honey bread, cheeses, ham, yogurt and coffee. We opted to head to Beaune and tour the Hotel Dieu, a medieval charity hospital, while waiting for the rain to let up. The hospital was fascinating! It had a colorful, patterned tile roof (very Burgundian) and huge halls lined with beds, attached together head to foot in one long line. The support beams for the roof in the pauper ward were held in the mouths of carved wooden monsters and painted busts of 15th century townsfolk lined the perimeter of the ceiling, making fun of the middle class by pairing each person with their animal twin (fat man next to a pig). Frankly, it was a bit weird. All of the decor was a combination of whimsical and morbid and was somehow supposed to comfort the dying, how, I am not quite sure.

The hospital had some of the medical instruments of the day on display. They included saws (for amputations) and ginormous metal syringes that would have been better off used as baseball bat than to administer meds (you would have needed to drill a large hole in the patient to be able to even insert the syringe's tip).

The rain was still coming down when we finishes the tour. Isla had (finally!) fallen asleep in the backpack so we found a little cafe and ordered a quiche and some tortellini bolognese and ate it at the bar so Isla could continue to sleep in the pack.

We wandered the puddle-filled streets of Beaune a bit longer until I could no longer stand the squish squash of my soaking wet feet and shoes. A fellow American tourist at the hospital had informed us that CNN had been reporting on the major storms rocking France this week. Apparently 20 people had died in the southern part of the country due to flooding. Wow, so I guess this weather thing really is serious!

Look at our cute French baby munching on her baguette (in her jelly sandals WITH socks...her mother did not pack any close-toed shoes that fit!)

Rain or shine, we were determined to taste some of the wines of the area that make this region famous.

We made our way to the village of Aloxe-Corton where we stopped at a tasting room. We tried a few local Chardonnays (MUCH better and less oaky than in the US) and some Pinot noirs. I felt that the reds were not sipping wines and definitely needed food to pair alongside. We also stopped at the Chateau Corton-Andre which was a beautiful, colored tile building that offered tours if it's cellars as well as tastings.

The current chateau was built on the site of the town's former church and the crypt had been converted into the wine cellar! We tried a chard and 2 young pinots. I really like the chard and decided I'd buy a bottle if it was affordable. It wasn't so we left empty handed.

We came across this adorable house nearby that I decided could be my French home. I made Graham take a picture of me in front of it. Isn't it cute?! Of course the view was pretty amazing too with all the windows overlooking the vineyards.

We took a leisurely route back to our B&B as we'd spotted a patch of blue sky and were trying to follow it. I decided to take this opportunity to appreciate Graham's foreign country driving skills and jokingly tell him "You've done such a good job of not crashing this trip!" He chided me that I shouldn't say things like that because I'd curse us. I told him I didn't believe in such things. Just then we passed a lovely field of red poppies so I asked him to pull over so I could get a picture.

He turned off onto the nearest side road (which, by the way, was in the middle of NO WHERE) but I did not like the angle so asked him to turn around. Rather than find another road to pull into to aid with the turn around, he decided to back off the road into a sloped patch of dirt/grass. I started squealing "No! Don't back up so far! What if we get stuck in the mud!?" Need I continue or can to take a wild stab at what happened next? As soon as the words were out of my mouth, the tires began to spit. The "dirt" patch was actually a mud patch and the slope was much steeper than Graham had anticipated. I remained calm and rolled down my window and captured my desired shot of the poppies while mud flew in all directions as the tires spun. We slid backwards even further going sideways one way and then the other. Graham tried numerous times to get the front tires onto the little patches of grass that had not yet been mutilated by our Peugot in hopes of getting some traction. After about 10 minutes of this, it was obvious we were going no where so I nobly offered to get out and push. I had the decency of mind to remove my cream cardigan and roll up my jeans but I knew that I might be committing my black dress flats to their last wear. It only took two pushes before my feet slipped out from under me and SPLAT, down I went, hands and knees into the mud.

Graham said he heard me smack from the driver's seat. It was useless. And still raining. I went back to the paved road and stood in the middle, doing my best to appear helpless. It worked! A kind French lady drove by on the main road and I waved her down. She hardly spoke a word of English so we used sign language. I'm pretty sure she mentioned "police" and maybe "tow truck." She had a cell phone and called someone (I later realized I think she called her husband but for all I knew, she was calling the cops). Oh boy! How much was this going to cost us?

The whole while, Graham was trying different methods to get the car out. The lady got out and stood with me in the rain as we tried to direct Graham. Finally, without warning, he spun the car around and drove deeper toward the field. I thought for sure he'd really done it now and that we'd never get out. But he gunned it in reverse and with a lesser degree of tire spinnage, we were out! My French lady friend and I cheered and I thanked her profusely for stopping and she went on our way, reminding us to drive carefully. Then I turned to look at the car. There was literally a 2-inch thick layer of mud coating the rear tires. Mud chunks had spewed all over the windshield, rear view mirrors and sunroof. It looked like we'd taken our two-wheel-drive rental off-roading, which actually is not too far from the truth I guess (shhhh, don't tell Hertz!) Graham got out to inspect the scene and started making comments about how he could smell the similarities between this terriore (mud) and some of the aromas in the wines we'd just been sampling. I sweetly told him that I didn't really want to hear about the terroire right now as I had plenty of it coating my hands, knees and shoes and could focus on it's fragrances later.

It was only then that dear Isla awoke...she'd slept through the whole ordeal (maybe she found the swaying and sloshing of the car back and forth rhythmic and therapeutic for sleep?) Gosh, and I thought today was going to be dull and boring!

We spent a little time cleaning up back at our place before returning to Beaune for dinner. It had stopped raining, albeit brief so we pulled off to capture some more pictures of the beautiful countryside (and the famous Burgundian white cows used in beef bourguignon).

We both LOVED Beaune and put it on our list of "Must Go Back To" regions. We rated it really high on the cuteness  scale. The buildings were built wall-to-wall and we especially liked all the iron lamp posts (see picture further down). 

 We had a bit of a hard time finding dinner. We were turned away from one fabulous-looking restaurant because we did not have a reservation. This caught us a bit off guard since there were numerous open tables and we hadn't needed reservations any of the rest of our time here. I wondered if maybe it was because we had a baby? But I was relieved to see a baby-less couple without reservations turned away as well. After getting sent away at our second half-empty restaurant for the same reason, I was getting discouraged. And hungry. But I guess when a typical meal lasts three hours, there is not a lot of turnover of tables and restaurants really only have one seating a night so when people have reservations...

By this time, it was past 8 which meant the restaurants were only going to get busier as the local French would now be dining. We found a table (in the very back room) at a more casual cafe. I ordered beef bolognese, only later realizing that we'd also had it for lunch. Graham ordered a menu that included pizza with sausage, mushrooms and chorizo, a plum tart for dessert (with almond flavoring? amazing!) and espresso to follow. We had a miniature pitcher of pinot to go along with. Isla was in a chipper mood and charmed the waitress. She had become quite good at munching on whole hunks of bread and had figured out how to grip it firmly with her gums and tear. She spent a good chunk of the meal working on a big one in her diaper which was become her dinnertime tradition about every three nights or so. Our late meal made for another easy to-bed for Isla as she fell asleep on the car ride home. 

Day 16 -- Onward to Beaune

It was bath day for the Isla girl but since our hotel did not have a bath, I sat her on the shower floor and made do with the removeable shower head. I stood in there with her only to spy a thin yellow stream running toward my feet, originating awefully close to her little bum bum. Isla!!

We hit the street at 8:45AM, confident that we would surely find breakfast with ease. Not so. The patisserie (bread shop) was closed, the cafes were serving only coffee. It was about this point that I hit my limit after a couple of tiring, frustrating days in a row. WHAT ON EARTH do the French do for breakfast around here!!!?? I really, really just wanted to feel full. I wanted more balance than just bread and coffee. It was rainy and was forecasted to stay that way for the remainder of our trip. Wah wah wah. I might have been a bit cranky. :)

Finally we decided to cheat and purchased pain chocolate (chocolate croissant), fruit and yogurt at the grocery store and did what was probably a major no no by eating it at one of the outside tables at a nearby cafe. We ordered our coffee from the cafe and so justified our breakfasting there.

We were on the road at 10:30 and, by this time, it was pouring down rain. Once again, no sign of the mountain so no morning gondola trip for Graham! We decided that we'd obey the French rules of eating and be sure to stop for lunch between 12 and 2 so as not to repeat our previous days' string of luck.

We were driving through Macon about that time so pulled off the autoroute. We happened upon a nice strip of riverfront restaurants and opted for the one with "Lard" in it's name and a picture of a pig. Why not? It turned out to be a great choice and was the best meal for the price so far. We ordered the menu du jour, even though we didn't recognize any of the foods listed. Our first course was a small strip of what I'm pretty sure was raw salmon over delicious couscous with a small salad of greens, tomato and haricot verts. Yum! The salmon was mildly lemony and wasn't nearly as scary as it looked. Our second course was steak in some amazing onion sauce, ratatouille and a baked white potato with some sort of herbed cream sauce. The beef was so flavorful and the waiter said it was a very typical dish of the area (I think it was called Hampe du Eschilate?) We drank Beaujolais which was served chilled-quite tasty. We got to choose our dessert so I picked the one with the words "chocolat" and "glace" (which I have quickly learned means ice cream) and hoped I would receive a chocolate cake a la mode. Graham picked the "Souffle Grand Mariner" that also mentioned something about glace. Isn't his so pretty?

I won! Not only was mine a chocolate cake, it was a molten chocolate cake!!!!! Graham kept asking for bites of mine and kept saying "Dang it!" everytime he tasted it, out of jealousy of course. I definitely picked the best one.

We arrived in Beaune about 4:00 and the rain was still coming down hard. We had made reservations at a three bedroom B&B in a tiny outlying village called Orches. I had a feeling my Google directions to our place were going to be less than helpful. The first part was okay but the very end was...err...vague. This is word for word what they said:

"Turn right about 2 minutes.
Turn left.
Take the first right about 1 minute.
Turn left.
Take the first right."

Ummm so I guess they don't believe in street names in these parts? Graham thought I was kidding as I read them aloud. It wasn't long before I trashed them and changed my approach as the navigator to a method I call "wild guessing." We took a rather roundabout way but we managed to find Isabelle Raby's place thanks to some helpful road signs directing foreigners like us to various places of lodging. No one came out to greet us when we arrived but Isabelle came out after we knocked to show us to our room. The B&B portion of the old farmhouse was on the backside, overlooking the pool and perfectly manicured gardens. As it turns out, the house is older than the United States, built in 1774!!! Our (remodeled) room was formerly the chicken coop!

We backtracked to Beaune, admiring the absolutely gorgeous countryside, rock cliffs, vineyards and white cows (used to make the local specialty, beef bourguignon), imagining what it might look like if it were sunny.

For dinner, we settled upon a restaurant near the Hotel Dieu (old hospital). Today proved to be quite the day of eating as menus were ordered at BOTH lunch and dinner. The local specialties of Burgundy are escargot, coq a vin and beef bouguignon, all of which I was determined to sample before leaving this region. Graham ordered the menu which began with a sweet rose apertif, then escargot in hot garlic butter, followed by coq a vin, a cheese plate of three unpronounceable cheeses and lastly, dessert: a chocolately mouse cake (sort of the texture of jello), a sliver of coconut pie/tart and a chocolate pie. Graham was nervous about the escargot and made me do the honors and down the first snail. I was feeling fine about the whole thing until Graham started talking about how the snail's mode of transportation is via slime. I don't want to think about that right now dear. I popped the little creature in my mouth. Whoa, that's good! It probably helped that he was bathing in a pool of hot, garlicky butter. He was a bit chewy but, as long as I kept telling myself "think clam, think clam," it was really quite tasty. The whole ordeal reminded me of a seafood linguine with butter sauce. We'd wondered what the restaurant would think if 10 of the 12 escargot served returned to the kitchen when we were through but we needn't have worried. We sent the plate back empty.

I ordered beef bourguignon which was served with fried pommes de tierre (potatoes) and haricot verts. It tasted surprisingly similar to Graham's coq a vin and I decided I liked the beef dish I'd had at lunch much better. We ordered a local burgandian white wine (mostly chard) and local Pinot which we both shared. Our meal lasted about 3 hours which is not at all unusual. Given that it was 10 PM by the time we arrived back at the car, Miss Isla fell asleep on the drive home and slept in her clothes all night.   

Day 15 -- Where Art Thou Mont Blanc?

Another unrestful night. I woke up more tired than when I went to bed and so we ended up getting a slow start. Graham had not been feeling well so I got up with Isla at 7:30 AM and brought her to the hotel lobby to allow him some uninterrupted sleep. Before long, she was ready for her morning nap and since neither of us were ready to go yet, I put her down in the pack and play for her first stationary nap (read: not in the stroller or carseat) in 16 days. And I climbed back into bed.

We had no idea what time it was when we finally made it out of our hotel room. 11:15!? Wow. We began the search for breakfast but everyone shooed us away, informing us "The kitchen is closed." I sensed a trend. Please no! Not another day spent in search of food!!

We eventually found an open cafe where we ordered cafe au lait for me and espresso for Graham and chocolate crepes (which came from their dessert menu, by the way, because it doesn't seem the town believed in breakfast).

Isla was ready for another nap when we finished so we headed back to the hotel and she napped for an hour and a half while I read to Graham while admiring the bits of the base of Mont Blanc that were visible through the clouds. This was just what we needed after our strained drive the previous day.

We had been looking forward to taking the gondola up the mountain to enjoy the view but a couple things were working against us. 1) Kids were not allowed because the air was thin at the top and 2) It was so cloudy that we weren't sure we'd be able to see anything from the top anyway. We decided to send Graham up, armed with the video camera so I could take the trip vicariously through video when he came back. We split up and planned to meet back at the hotel in a few hours. (Look closely at the picture below to see the wires of the gondola. And to think this is only half of it! It keeps going up, way into the clouds!)

Isla and I strolled the super cute streets, browsing the shops which were all very outdoorsy. The place felt like one large REI town! I treated myself to TWO scoops of ice cream and Isla and I found a Father's Day gift for Graham. We ran into Graham on our way back to the hotel. I excitedly asked him how it was only to learn that he didn't go. The ticket lady had talked him out of it, informing him that there was zero visibility and did he really want to spend 50 Euro to see nothing? Bummer! The forecast was for clouds and rain for thr next 6 days so the odds of us ever seeing the mountain was not good. Such is life.

What better to do to remedy disappointment than to EAT!? The restaurant we chose was quirky and, as it turns out, so was the food. We each ordered a menu. I had a salad to start. It had greens, hard boiled egg, canned corn, tomato and "white ham" (which i guess is basically the ham you'd find in the US, not prosciutto). For my main, I chose the local specialty, tartiflette, a very cheesy scalloped potato dish with bacon and cream-so good! Caramel and chocolate ice cream followed for my dessert (yes, twice in one day...don't judge!) Graham had no idea what he was ordering. His starter turned out to be some sort of green salad with meat jello (terrine?), marinara sauce and sweet pickles. Very weird. His main was chicken with mushrooms and some potatoes and sauteed spinach on the side. He had creme caramel for dessert (pretty much flan). I don't think this restaurant was know for their food. My main was good but the rest was questionable. We did like the merlot we selected to drink. As had been our experience this trip with all wines, it was nothing like the merlots we know in the US. It was much better, particularly given that we usually don't care for merlot.

Because we were on the final leg of our trip, much of our conversation revolved around how we would adjust to having a routine again when we got home. Neither of us were looking forward to the busy schedule that awaited.

Overall, I think our impession of Chamonix was jaded by the weather which interferred with our plans to gondola up the mountain and/or go on a hike. I'm sure we'd think a bit differently about the place if it had been sunny. There were definately a LOT more english speakers here. Actually it almost felt like we could have been in Leavenworth or some other cute mountain town in the US. It felt much more American, probably partially due to the fact that everyone and their mother were wearing a Northface.

Here are my feeble attempts at trying to catch a glimpse of Mont Blanc. I think there is a mountain in there somewhere. Do you see it?

To this day, I have no idea what shape Mont Blanc actually is. Oh well.

Following dinner, we Skyped the Senior Croziers to wish Graham's dad a very happy bday and then retired early.