Travels with Phil and Jen

Little Venice, Colmar

We are well and truly in the German-looking but French speaking area of France – ALSACE. It had been at the top of my ‘to visit’ list. The architecture is German, the food is a mixture of French and German with some local Alsation specialities thrown in. The wine is different as well – quite good whites, gewurtztraminer and pinot gris styles. The houses in the villages are postcard perfect – half-timbered and a lot of them painted sherbert colours which is different from England which tends to half-timbered + white. The shuttered windows have planter boxes overflowing with flowers and I think I am starting to get all geraniumed-out.

We have been travelling with our friends Phil and Jenny and have experienced some big temperature fluctuations. It was very hot in Colmar and Ribeauville – 35 degrees outside and hotter in!

In Colmar we visited ‘Little Venice’ which had small boats taking tourists on trips between tall houses that had their feet in the canals. The old town had narrow cobbled lanes and very old but well preserved houses. A very confusing place to navigate, we were either on foot or cycle and both times nearly got lost. The aire we stayed at was very popular – there were rows of white camping cars in neat lines all vying for the limited electric points. Your fee included electric but it wasn’t necessarily available. We watched the ‘odd man out’ on the site – a huge mustard coloured all terrain vehicle try different pitches before he settled on a concrete pad. There was a ladder to get in and out of the truck and their little dog just stared down from the open door, totally stranded. The same truck held up a row of departing camping cars as he filled and filled and filled his fresh water tank.

As a geranium antidote Stuart and I drove Chausson up a steep road to the hilltop chateau du Haut-Koenigsbourg – we could see it miles away. It sat on massive pink sandstone terraces and was more a fort than a home. It was in a strategic defensive position and it had all the things you would expect in a defensive castle rather than an elegant chateau – moat, drawbridge, a keep, plus all the necessary ancillary items such as kitchens, stables – deep, deep well plus some very Germanic looking rooms emblazoned with symbols such as double headed eagles and the coat of arms.

On the drawbridge, Haut Koenigsbourg

While we were castleing, Phil and Jenny went ahead to the local municipal campsite to reserve a couple of sites, as they had previously visited the castle, or schloss.

On approaching the campsite, I spotted the sign on the road telling prospective campers to park outside and then approach reception, which we did. Two other camping cars arrived at the same time and had the temerity to just drive in and park (out of the way) of the entry barrier. The commandant was having none of this breach, and as I was returning to our vehicle she was leaning out the window ordering the 2 vehicles back on the road to do things in the right order! For once I got it right – unlike at the supermarket half an hour earlier when I neglected to weigh and price the vegetables before approaching the checkout.

In Ribeauville we cycled on the hottest day to a nearby village, the sky was a cloudless blue and the cycle trails went through vineyards, corn fields and some other UGOs (unidentified growing objects). It nearly killed Jenny what with the heat and a longer ride than intended. That night, even though it was hot, Phil and Jenny cooked duck breast and sauteed potatoes in duck fat for dinner. The next night was hotter still, it was the night of the European football championship final and the Mackays' offering only ran to meatballs. We gave up watching the tiny screen in the overheated TV room and assumed that silence from the village meant a French loss.

Obernai is a pretty little town about 25 km from Strasbourg, the municipal camp, like all the others, is excellent quality and more comfortable than aires if the weather is hot because you can put out an awning, set up deck chairs and spread yourself around. We used Obernai as a base for day trips. One evening Stuart and I were lucky enough to pass Obernai’s central church and walked in to hear the finale of an organ concert – the organists were playing Ravel’s ‘Bolero’. Images of Torvill and Dean circling the ice, dressed in purple played in my mind as the music reverberated within the vaulted stone interior of the church. The organists had a standing ovation and played an encore of a section of Bolero.

Another geranium and window box antidote, was our trip to the remains of the only French based Nazi concentration camp – Natzweiler-Struthof. The route was a steep climb up through a seemingly unending forest of close spaced pine trees, no other traffic on the road, and we climbed higher, passing no villages and not even seeing houses. It struck us if a prisoner did manage the escape, there would be nowhere to seek refuge. It was also a lot cooler as we gained altitude and would be bitterly cold in winter.

The camp was an internment place for resistance members, Jews, common criminals. It was where 40% of the prisoners died from the inhumane conditions, quasi-scientific experiments, and overwork at the nearby quarry. Double rows of once-electrified. barbed wire fences with sentry towers surrounded the camp which lay on the side of a steep hill. All that was left of the barracks were foundation footprints but the crematorium, gas chamber, cell block and autopsy room were intact.

For a lightening of atmosphere, the navigators and drivers had a rest from regular duties and dug deep into their pockets to find E4 ($NZ7) each for the return trip to Strasbourg. It is a large city, pop about 300,000 and is home to the European Parliament. We paid a visit to the cathedral, called yet again, Notre Dome. The outside was more splendid than the inside with a red sandstone delicate facade. It was a magnificent soaring monolith. Phil and Stuart dallied about outside and nearly missed the early lunch cut-off entry time (11.15) – Phil pulled the ‘from NZ, All Blacks’ card and they were let in the exit door for a quick looky-loo.

Petite France, canals, locks, narrow lanes, half timbered houses was where we treated ourselves to a proper lunch, three of us having spatzle, an egg pasta, with an Alsace rose to accompany it. The understanding about having a proper lunch was that there was no proper dinner. This is a concept Stuart struggles with.

Proper lunch in Strasbourg

Notre Dame, Strasbourg

Strasbourg

Yet again the term UNESCO Heritage site entered the itinerary in Grand Ile, the island on which Strasbourg was founded, packed with history. Our day out to Strasbourg complete, we caught the bus back to the motorcamp, Jen and I had a little zzzz on the way back.

We paid up for our three nights in Obernai and are now researching our next destination.