We got off the train an hour and a half later and went to find the flat of our host in absentia. Lauren had mentioned at her school that we were travelling to Strasbourg and as luck would have it, one of her fellow teachers had a son who lived there. She called him up to ask if we could sleep on his couch which he was very generous to allow us to do, especially considering he was going to be out of town for the weekend. Essentially we had a flat right next to Petite France, a particularly charming neighborhood, to call our own for the weekend.
Colin and his girlfriend, Carol, weren't leaving until the next morning, so they took us out to a bar after we got in and settled. I hadn't taken the time to study a map of Strasbourg yet, so after what seemed to me like making random turns and circling about a bit (which, granted, we did since they went a little out of the way to show us the Strasbourg Cathedral - which, by the way, looks incredibly immense at night and actually made me stop and gasp), we stepped through the door of a packed Jeannette et les Cycleux (I believe "Jeannette and the Bike" - how very French). The five of us (Carol's cousin had joined) split a bottle of Pinot Gris, an Alsatian white which had a pretty full body and tasted almost a little spiced to my neophytic wine tasting tongue. Unfortunately none of the group was really comfortable speaking English (or perhaps just didn't want to bother, because what little they did say to me seemed perfectly fluent), so I just enjoyed my drink and took in the atmosphere with Lauren translating the occasional bit. Even that was difficult, though, because they didn't stop to let her translate, so if she did then she missed part of the conversation. I can't complain, though, they were still letting us stay in their flat. We didn't stay out terribly late, but it was nice to be out and get a taste of the city.
The next morning Lauren and I set out to take in Strasbourg in all of its glory. It was supposed to rain that day but luckily we woke up to clear skies so we were eager to take advantage. We figured the obvious starting place was the cathedral, Notre-Dame de Strasbourg.
Although it was started in 1176, by the time construction was finished it was well into the 15th century. Like all French Gothic style, this cathedral emphasizes height, and it does so in a major way. Aside: English Gothic placed more emphasis on length. At 142 meters (465 feet), the Northern spire was the world's tallest building until as late as 1874 when it was surpassed by St. Nikolai's Church of Hamburg. Although it was suspected that many façades were drawn prior to construction, this is one of the earliest façades that would have been inconceivable to build without drawing it first. Fascinating, isn't it, thinking about structures only slightly less massive being constructed based wholly on someone's imagination without any diagrams or measurements drawn out to support it? The cathedral was constructed of sandstone from the nearby Vosges Mountains which gives it the distinctive rosy pink hue.
Lauren and I ascended all 330 steps to the top platform; we weren't allowed to continue up the North Tower, unfortunately. Even though it was a little hazy, you could still see the entire town easily from such great heights. Lauren and I agreed, however, the the views from about midway up the spiraling staircase were better because you were high enough to be eye-level with the tops of buildings and see details you might otherwise have missed.
We then poked our heads inside briefly, but decided exploring at length would be better served for the next day when it would be raining, so we wandered a bit at random up some of the nearby streets.
Although it was too early for the Christmas Markets to be open, the number of tourists was staggering. It was hard keeping track of each other, especially anywhere near the cathedral.
After some wandering at will, we figured we could use a little sustenance and headed back to Jeanette et les Cycleux for lunch. Both Colin and Lauren's guide book had recommended it as a good place to eat, and we were hoping it wouldn't be too crowded since it was a little out of the way. We split a planchette of ten different meats, cheeses, and local spreads served with a giant bowl of fresh bread.
I liked everything, although my favorites were the Brie, Munster, and goat cheese. Lauren also liked the goat cheese and the bleu Auvergne (a local blue cheese). I know that this isn't the typical way of categorizing the cheeses that you like, but I've started to notice that I prefer soft, 'spreadable' cheeses to anything that you can slice, sharpness aside.
After lunch we decided we should be more productive and pointed in our wanderings, even if we got sidetracked, so we went to the Office of Tourism and picked up audio guides (one in French for Lauren, one in English for me - I wasn't quite competent enough to try the German one). We had a little over two hours to kill before our next engagement, so we decided to follow as much of the suggested walking route as we could. It advertised taking about an hour and a half. Even without going through the cathedral we only got to 18.
Still, what we did see and learn about was very interesting, and it was such a nice afternoon to just stroll around! I wish I could have taken notes on everything I was hearing, though. I also wish we would have had time to finish it, but I'll just make this my excuse to go back.
Palais Rohan
œuvre Notre-Dame Medieval Garden
L'Ill (pronounced LEE-luh) River
We had to cut our route short in order to get to the wine tasting that Lauren had booked for us. She had found this wine tasting on the Office of Tourism website offering an hour and a half of four different local wines: Reisling, Sylvaner, Pinot Noir, and Guerwitztraminer. Jean Arbogast, Plaisir Dix Vins, was our host and explained some of the history of Alsatian wines and why they differed from other French wines, then led us through a tasting of each, going through some handouts he had for us of what aromatic qualities we should be noticing, how to classify the attack and intensity of the the taste, and plenty of other fine points specific to whites or reds. Very informative. I also picked up a few brochures from him, including a booklet of about fifteen recipes from the region and the proper wine to pair with them. If anyone asks nicely I might even make a few of the dishes for you.
It was well past dark by the time we left and the wine had piqued our appetite.
Unfortunately every other person in the city had not only decided that they wanted to go out to dinner that night, they all chose to do so exactly 20 minutes before we hit the city center again. We tried four places, none of which had an open table before 10:00, before we were able to snag a table at Aux Armes de Strasbourg on the corner of Place Gutenburg. I saw venison (cerf) on the menu and opted for that while Lauren tried the traditional sausage and ham with sauerkraut (choucroute garnie), both very tasty.
Lauren, stellar planner that she is, had also seen that there was a jazz festival in Strasbourg that weekend and got us tickets to see a three-man group from Switzerland, Colin Vallon group. There was a pianist (Colin Vallon himself), a bassist, and a drummer. Conveniently the concert was in a small theater about five minutes from the flat, so we freshened up and got there in plenty of time for the 10:30 start. We were actually quite early considering they didn't come on stage until 11:00. There was no opening act. But at least we had a table very near the front. Now, allow me to preface this with the following statement: I know next to nothing about jazz. I could pick it out of a playlist for you, but I couldn't tell you what melodic features it should have or any of that. This being said, what we heard at long last would not have fit into my schema of jazz. Each of the musicians seemed to be playing entirely separately with zero regard for the others and very rarely it would overlap to be adequately pleasing. That only lasted about 30 seconds at a time, every ten minutes. Maybe I'm too old fashioned, but this was just way too 'contemporary' for me. It reminded me a lot of modern art, which I have about zero taste for. Perhaps (most likely) I just didn't get it, but, well, the end result was still that I didn't get it. Subconsciously I must have been so frustrated that I fell asleep. At least I wasn't alone - when I woke up again I noted that many other people in the audience, the two men at our table included, had also dozed off. Lauren seemed to feel similarly because she suggested we leave after about 45 minutes. The only truly satisfying thing that I came away with from that experience was the smell. Oddly enough there was a great aroma in the little room, a mix of cinnamon with some light floral undertones. Lauren and I were discussing the performance on our brief walk back and she suggested that their discordance was purposeful because it would make the moments when everything was in sync that much more satisfying. I prefer not to be accosted so that I will appreciate my state of not being accosted that much more, thank you very much. Still, it was interesting, and now I admit I need to get a better grasp of what jazz actually is. Still, I didn't regret the decision to leave, especially when I was comfortably tucked in and could drift off to the peace and quiet of not-'jazz'.
