As always when we leave a house we liked, and where we had a good family
experience, I was a little sad as we pulled out of Beaumont-Village. On
our last trip to Loches to get my wifi fix (pronounced weefee over
here), we discovered a beautiful park just outside the castle we had
visited a few days before. We are finding that you can't just blow into
a town for a day and expect to get real feel for it, no matter how many
of the tourist spots you hit. Its only after you spend time poking
around the little streets, sitting in the cafes, etc.. that you begin
to appreciate the town. I think the reason that Dick and I don't enjoy
the big cities as much is that we rarely stay in them – we stay outside
and go in for day trips. We can't go back to the apartment and rest
when we get tired, and don't stay in town for dinner. This year, we are
avoiding them because they are too expensive for the length of the
trip, but I am going to remember this the next time.

We programmed Lady to avoid the toll roads, and enjoyed a lovely ride
through the rest of the Loire on our way to Sancerre, a beautiful wine
town on the border of Loire and Burgogne. One of my favorite European
memories from a previous trip was sitting in a vineyard about Sancerre,
drinking a local Sancerre wine and eatng the local chevre. But, as
someone famous said, “You can't go home.” Now, don't misunderstand. The town is beautiful and after our picnic overlooking a gorgeous vista, we
followed the red line all around town with the booklet that explained
each of the historic sites we passed. The original fort was built in
the 1100s, but after a number of residents became Protestants, the
Catholic church had a fit and burned the place down. In the 1600s, the
Protestants had all left or converted back to Catholicism, and the town
was rebuilt. There is one Protestant church in town that had been the
convent chapel.
They are total wine and chevre people. I went to a tasting cave where a
very knowledgeable women explained all about the differences in the
wine when the grape was grown in chalk over clay, versus clay over
chalk. Then when flint s introduced, there are more variations. I was
tasting with a couple from the UK, who own a home in Provence, and if
you have ever read “A Year in Provence”, these are the folks you
picture. Sancerre is their favorite wine, and having just drunk their
last bottle, they were on a weekend road trip to stock up. They were
ordering multiple cases of each wine we tasted, but for some reason, I
couldn't find one I really enjoyed...especially at the prices they were
asking. I really enjoy the sauvignon grape, but these just weren't
hitting me right. I tasted at a couple more places, and ended up buying
one, with a crottin of chevre for our happy hour.

We had gone to the Office of Tourisme, marked by a little cursive i all over Europe, to find a place to stay. These folks are great and will go out of their way to help you, if you know what you want. We love Gites de France, the network of rural rental homes and apartments all over the country, so were happy when she had a Chambre de Hote, a bed and breakfast, part of the same network. We were even happier to find out that it was also a Table de Hote, meaning, that for a set price, she would provide dinner. What a fun way to meet other folks. There was something in the description (in French) about horses, but the very helpful gal at the TI downplayed that.

So, off we went to our first Chambre de Hote, picturing a pretty little
place in a vineyard. As we drove, we got further and further away from
all the grapes and more into flat farm land. We finally came upon a run
down little place with the Gites de France logo. We were cheered by the
fact that there were lots of cars parked in front. We couldn't raise
anyone, so walked around back, where we found horse stables and a
number of folks walking around in riding gear. It seems that this is a
fairly well known riding school. We found the owner, Christine, a jolly
round little lady, who is one of those perpetual motion type people.
She showed us to our room, up some very narrow crickety stairs, a
rather shabby little place, but with what seemed to be a comfortable
bed. The most disconcerting thing were the wasp nests nestled into the
top of each corner of the window, which of course had no screens and
was the only source of ventilation. After examining them, Dick was
convinced they were dead, but they still made me nervous. Christine is
a great hostess, but it seems is just too busy to keep the place up.
After a glass of wine with our chevre, we took a snooze and went down
for dinner. This place is clearly all about horses, with the walls
lined with newspaper articles and pictures of the school, as well as
trophies won in competitions. About 10 other people joined us for
dinner, all riders. We were pretty well ignored until I asked if anyone
spoke English – that broke the ice a bit, and we ended up having a very
pleasant evening. The meal was mediocre and there were flies everywhere (the danger of
staying on a horse farm, I guess), but it was fun to get to talk to
these folks. Only one spoke fluent English and others “school” English, but they tried very hard to communicate with us and we really appreciated it. We are finding a real change in the attitude of locals
when they find out that we are traveling here for 6 months. They really like to see Americans “expanding their horizons”. I am finding that I feel the same way about Europeans – I wish they could spend more time getting to know Americans. Although they certainly don't hate us, there
are also a lot of misperceptions about us.

Our next stop was near Strasbourg, where we accepted the invitation to stay with the couple we had met at the restaurant in Beaune. As we always tell people – Don't invite us to visit unless you are serious, because
we do show up. We were both a little nervous since we had only talked
to Jacques and Eliane for about an hour, and with the language
differences, not in any real depth.

We stopped at the TI center in Nancy to see if we could find the location of the grave of Helmut Schneider, Dick's uncle, a German soldier, who was killed in WWII. Since there are so many German cemeteries around there, it was not practical, but I mention it to say that although Nancy is a big town (city) with associated hassles, the square is amazing and worth a visit. Dick rarely finds any city worth a visit, however, so our stay was short. Thanks to Lady, we did find a delightful little restaurant in a village off the freeway (La Petite Gourmet, but can't remember the village) and had a really nice meal and
chat with a very friendly Romanian waitress. I am always happy when I have had a good food experience.

We pulled into Jacques and Eliane's late afternoon. They live in a tiny village about half an hour from Strasbourg in the Alsatian area of France, on the border with Germany. Their house is beautiful, built on a hill, so that our bedroom was on the bottom floor, and the rest of the living space was in the two floors above that. The bedroom was just lovely – large and with a great marble bath built into it. Looked like a hotel suite. We had drinks and then dinner on their back patio (they also have a front patio/deck). Eliane is a great cook, and after quiche lorraine as an appetizer, we had a Mediterranean dish of roasted chicken and vegetables. Then came the cheese course and dessert.

It was all delightful. Eliane doesn't speak English and, while Jacques
isn't fluent, he did a great job of keeping their end of the conversation going. We were all consulting our dictionaries, but were able to have much more in depth conversations than I thought might be possible. The next night they invited two friends of their's who speak English and we had another beautiful meal, this time on the front patio. Eliane fixed a classic Alsatian choucroute, smoked meats and sauerkraut, among other delicacies. Their friends, Therese and Marcel were great fun. During the meal, Therese asked why we were willing to stay with people whom we didn't know at all and could have been axe murderers, and we said that we had wondered why Jacques and Eliane had invited strangers into their home, given the same danger. Eliane admitted that she blamed drinking too much wine in Beaune.

The next night, Therese invited all of us to her beautiful apartment in the embassy district of Strasbourg. After a starter of tarte flambe, very thin pizza like dough with cream, onions, and ham, and salad, she presented a huge whole roasted salmon! It was absolutely delicious and inspired me to try roasting a whole fish when we get back. Marcel used to work for a chocolate company, and finished the meal with a dense dark chocolate flourless cake. After dinner we strolled through the park across the street – a big beautiful park complete with a live jazz concert.

Strasbourg is a beautiful city, the highlight of which is the Notre Dame cathedral. The towers are so lacy and intricate - unlike any cathedral we have seen anywhere. As you are walking toward the center of town, it just consumes the whole skyline. We also took a boat trip down the river Ill, past the Council of Europe, where much of the business of the EU takes place, and the beautiful Petite France, a historic neighborhood with a serene collection of cobblestone roads, fine restaurants and 16th-century buildings. The buildings are all half-timbered - very pretty area. In fact the whole Old Town area of
Strasbourg is a UNESCO World Heritage site. The only disappointment:
one of our favorite things to eat in Europe are Leonidas chocolates,
made in Belgium, and not only filled with the normal things, but also
some with fresh cream. Absolutely the best thing and the only thing my
Dad ever asked us to bring back from Europe. Since we did not go to
Belgium or any of the big northern cities, we had not seen any shops.
We did know, for sure, though, that Strasbourg has one.
Dick hurried to the store, on the square right across from the
cathedral. CLOSED for two days. So, six months in Europe and no
Leonidas - its just fundamentally wrong.

Strasbourg is another of those European cities that has been passed between
countries through the centuries. It was most recently German in WWII,
but is now France. Hence, the natives are more "Alsatian" at heart,
than French. Both cultures are very apparent. The wine road goes
through the most beautiful small villages ever - all about wine and
food....and geraniums. Their wines are unique to this area - pinot
gris, pinot blanc, gewurtztraminers (much drier than the sweet ones in
the US) and dry rieslings. I love them, and it is hard to find them
anywhere but here.

The whole experience was amazing, and we were treated like royalty. Jacques and Eliane went way out of their way to show these travelers French hospitality and it was truly one of the great highlights of the trip. I love to quote Woody Allen's “90% of life is showing up”, and I am certainly glad that we showed up in that restaurant in Beaune.

The next night we went from the sublime to the ridiculous – we were on the way to Augsburg, Germany and stopped in Colmar for the night. Its a
beautful town on the southern end of the extraordinary Alsatian wine
district.

Anyway, back to Colmar. The TI hooked us up with a reasonably priced hotel with
free internet. We went to the hotel, but the room wasn't ready, so we
went sight seeing and came back later. The weather had turned hot that
day, but it always cooled off at night, and with the door open to the
balcony, we weren't worried. We unpacked and went to dinner. The
cooling off part never happened, and once we went to bed, we realized
that we were on what had to be the noisiest street in Colmar. I know
that experienced travelers know to ask for the quiet room, but since we
rarely stay in towns, (and being Americans, just assume that we have
air conditioning), it just didn't occur to us. By the time we realized
how bad it was, we were already ready for bed, and didn't want to
change rooms. Worst night of the trip. With the window open it was
impossible to sleep (I hate those screaming 2 cycle engines they use on
motorcycles here....and those people never sleep), and with the door
closed, it was stifling. First time I have ever slept (or tried to
sleep) covered with a wet towel. Learn from our mistake!!

The next day made up for it, though, as we headed into one of our favorite
parts of Germany, the Schwarzwald (Black Forest). Almost 20 years ago,
we stayed at a bed and breakfast in Sulzburg, Germany, run by Dagmar, a
trained chef and wine merchant, and her husband, Eric, an artist. We
returned another time or two, and referred them to friends, who also
stayed with them. We loved their place, and tried to find it on the
internet, but failed. We went to Sulzburg, but found that their B&B
did not appear to be in business. We knocked on the door anyway. The
woman who now lives there told us about their new place nearby. They
now have a beautiful restaurant, plus two rooms and an apartment. This
is a top notch place, and business seems to be booming. They remembered
us and we had a wonderful lunch. We decided that if they had any
openings, we would splurge on dinner and a room. Unfortunately, they
had a group coming in, and had no openings for either, but we had a
nice chat with them and got their card, so that next time, we can plan
ahead. If you want a real treat, go to www.la-maison-eric.de to book......early! Tell them that Dick and Carole from America sent you :-).