Thursday 2 July 1998

  Slideshow Pictures

We crossed the French border at 10:40 a.m.. No border guards again. The freeway had arrows painted on it and the signs on the side of the road indicated that if you could only see one arrow in front of your vehicle, then you were tailgating. Rachel came in handy in translating road signs in France. Beautiful landscape, with red roofed towns in the distance and of course the church steeples. Arrived at first toll booth at 11:30 a.m.. Paid 22 French Franks and was given a card. We pulled off the freeway to visit a town, which we had noticed in the distance, but there was a toll booth so we turned around and went back on the freeway. Got off the freeway at Phalsbourg which is approximately 30 kilometers from Strasbourg but couldn’t find a restaurant that was open.

We drove on the back roads towards Strasbourg and found a nice roadside restaurant in Marlenheim called Auberge á l’Arbre Vert. I immediately became unpopular with the waiter. "Marlenheim. Is that German?" Wrong question to ask in Alsace-Lorraine.

Nice lunch, one of Rachel’s favourites on the trip. Rachel was reluctant to use her French, but did help the waiter with a few words, like "garlic". Rachel said that the meal included noodles. The first plate was an appetizer with thin cheese slices that looked like noodles, and I mistakenly thought that this was what the waiter had referred to, and had a disagreement with Rachel. Rachel was right, much to her delight. Speaks about this incident to this day. The meal was a kind of meat loaf in tomato sauce and (I hate to say it) NOODLES. "*&^%$#@".

The salad was very good with dressing of mustard, mayonnaise, garlic, paprika, peanut oil and honey vinegar. Rita raved about it to the waiter, and he recited the recipe which Rita promptly wrote down in her little brown book.

I asked for some local wine. The waiter pointed out that the local winery was right across the street. So we ordered a small decanter of red and white. The wine was very good, and it didn’t last long. The price was about $1 for 2 glasses. Left restaurant at 2:00 p.m.. Drove through several small towns. Noticed the steeple of the cathedral in Strasbourg from quite a distance. It is the second highest cathedral in Europe, and it stuck out like a sore thumb from the skyline of the city. Since the Maison Kammerzell was right next to the cathedral, I thought that it would be a great landmark, there would be no trouble finding the hotel.

Wrong again. "*&^%$#@"! As soon as we entered the city the cathedral disappeared. We couldn’t see it from the apartment buildings lining the streets. Drove down Quai Louis Pasteur turned left and ended up who knows where. Turning constantly, and it being an overcast day, lost all bearings. It was time to take a scenic tour of the city. After driving around in circles for a while, we noticed a very high steeple. I thought "That was easy". Wrong again. "*&^%$#@!".

Wrong "#^%$$@(" steeple. "*&^%$#@!". By this time my pride began to vane, broke down and asked two men who were moving some furniture, for directions. We followed their directions until the road curved. Lost again. "*&^%$#@!". Stopped a lady on the street, who gave us quite detailed information on finding the hotel, the road curved "*&^%$#@!" Lost again. "STRAS*&^%^$#BOURG"

Finally we caught sight of the cathedral, but the Fossé du Faux (canal) was between us. We drove along the bank of the canal until we saw a bridge to the left and a humongous traffic jam. Slowly we made our way to the intersection. At the intersection was a small international sign which had a man with a shovel and a left turn arrow with a red line across it. No "*&^%$" left turn, as we say in French.. So we turned right. As the image of the Cathedral was shrinking in the rear view mirror, my frustration was growing. Made a few turns, and soon we were back at the bank of the river, on the same road, with the same "@#$%$%$#" sign. However, while sitting in traffic, we had noticed a large parking sign on the other side of the canal, not too far it seemed from the cathedral. So we made the same "^%%&^$%" right hand turn we had made earlier and after a few more right turns, driving several blocks, we ended up on the bridge. We had triumphed over Stras%^^%bourg.

The parking lot was underground and above it was a large square. We headed towards the Cathedral which was clearly visible from the square but disappeared as soon as we walked down the narrow streets. After a few wrong turns we finally arrived at the hotel. The Maison Kammerzell is a 15th century merchants house which has been modernized into a small hotel with only nine rooms and right next to the famous cathedral.

Our room was on the top floor of the hotel and had a great view of the very interesting and beautiful tiled roofs of the surrounding buildings.

The only problem was, that every time you stuck your head out of the window, some tourist would be taking your picture. After moving in, Rita and I went downstairs for a glass of wine at the outdoor restaurant of the hotel.

It was raining but we managed to sit under the canopy. Rachel joined us just as the rain started pouring and we went inside. We had another glass of wine while Rachel had a hot chocolate.

None of us were hungry after the big meal at Marlenheim. I went out and found a supermarket around the corner which was a hangout for drunks and drug addicts. Bought a bottle of wine, an opener, bag of potato chips, which were really good, and a half a dozen cokes in glass bottles for Rachel’s collection.

Friday 3 July 1998

I woke up early and went back to the car to get the camera battery chargers and was back in 15 minutes. Plugged in the chargers to the transformer. We couldn’t take pictures with those cameras for the rest of the trip. Breakfast at the Maison Kammerzell was served in the rooms only, so we had a very nice breakfast in our room. After breakfast we went shopping. Rita bought postcards and sent, special world cup 1998 (currently being played in France), postcard to Erik. Went to the post office opposite the cathedral.

The post office was very interesting. Totally automated with scales and stamp dispensers. There was also a currency exchange at the post office. Rachel and Rita went to a pastry shop where Rachel did the translating. The pastry cost $7.50 for a couple of tiny pieces, so the ladies had to come and empty my pockets. It had lint, but not enough money, so Rachel had to dip into her German marks. We had a quick tour of the Cathedral and then went back to the hotel to check out. The hotel cost 740 French franks $180 CAN. I ran over to the currency exchange to get French franks, for parking.

Then we were off to the car. We walked about one block when Rachel remembered that she had left her camera at the hotel.

So we waited and when she came back, we were off to the parking lot. Rachel insisted that the parking lot was to the right and I didn’t feel like arguing. Remember I had gone to the car in the morning and was back in 15 minutes. Half an hour later, fully loaded with luggage, we were still looking for the car. Rachel was really annoyed, and I WAS FUMING. Thought a couple of times about wringing her scrawny little neck, but didn’t know whether French law allowed justifiable granddaughtercide, so decided against it. Too many witnesses "*&^^%$%". One man noticed that we were looking a bit confused, which is an understatement, staring at our map, and offered to help. He was very nice but gave us the wrong directions, we knew we didn’t cross any main roads from the parking lot to the hotel. Eventually we came upon a familiar boulevard where we had been the night before, and finally found the car. We had no problem whatsoever finding our way out and left Strasbourg about 10:45 a.m.. To Rachel’s credit, (and may I add well-being) she never gave directional advice after this incident.

We drove on the freeway, towards Basel, and before we crossed the border we turned off at a small town to buy gas. Had the tank filled by the attendant and then discovered that the gas station didn’t accept credit cards. After adding up all the change we were $1.00 short. The attendant saw our distress and let us get away with it. Back on the freeway heading for Basel we noticed that on the signs it was called "Bale" in French.