Distance Walked: a lot, Alcohol Consumed: 1 glass white wine, 1 glass red wine, 250ml Beaujolais
Slept badly. The hotel prides itself on its environmentally friendly policies, which includes no air-conditioning. As they point out, this is only needed in Paris for a few weeks each year. I suspect the cost of installing air-con also played a part in their decision. However, my room is on the first floor, at the back, with windows over a rear courtyard. There is also a roof over the doorway below me just under my windows, plus a lot of builder's junk in the courtyard. It seemed all to easy to me for someone to climb up onto the roof below me and from there into my windows, so I kept them shut at first. I was too hot so halfway through the night, I opened them which meant mosquitos, so I had to get up a again to coat myself in insect repellent. Urgh.
Breakfast was served in the cellar of the hotel. They weren't kidding when they refer to it as a "cave". The staircase leading down has rough stone walls on either side and the doorway is so low, even I had to duck. The room itself has a curved roof. Breakfast was harmless. I must stop eating pastries every morning.
Then it was time for my last food tour of this holiday. It was led by a young woman called Rebecca, a Parisian local, who originally trained as a pastry chef. She has worked in Paris, but also New York and Sydney. She is now back in France, doing a masters in food cultural history and doing tours to make money. There were only 5 of us on this tour. There should have been 7 but one couple failed to show, which surprised me as at 100 euro each it isn't something I would skip on a whim.
The other people included two Australian women from Sydney who had been in London for work and had taken the opportunity to come to Paris for the weekend (as you do). The other two were a couple, a 41 year old man from the US and his much younger Polish girlfriend who is a model. We never got to learn a lot about her as he would always answer questions on her behalf. At one point on the tour I heard him explaining to her how Obama had been a terrible president but now Trump was forcing people to take the US seriously again. We all agreed not to discuss politics today.
In some ways this tour wasn't as interesting as others I have taken. Paris is so big and such a melting point, the food was from all over. rather than being traditional food from the region. However, because Paris is so big, we got to sample the best items from all over France. In particular, each shop we went to just sold one sort of thing.
Our first stop was a shop selling nothing but charcuterie. We got to sample a salami made with black truffles and parmesan. I actually thought it was a bit too fatty and a tiny bit bland. Next stop was a shop that sold nothing but choux puffs. These have a craquelin coating - made from a square of butter and sugar that is put on top just before baking so they have a crunchy topping. We got to chose whatever flavour we liked. I had fig with a marscapone cream filling. Delicious. Next was a local market, which was underwhelming. There was fish stall, two cheese stalls and two vegetable stalls. All the rest (more than half) sold fast food - French style admittedly, but still it was more food trucks than a market. We stopped here to have four different sorts of cheeses from around France along with a glass of red wine. I really like Comte. I must look for it when I get home.
After the market we went to a shop that sold nothing but jam. They only make it with sugar and fresh fruits plus herbs and spices. It is only made with whatever fruit is currently in season. We tried pear & vanilla, blood peach and a third flavour which I forget. They were good. Lots of fruit flavour but not sickly sweet. Next we had falafel. The shop is very famous and had a huge queue - which we skipped as our visit was prearranged. Rebecca says people will wait for over an hour to get served. It was delicious falafel, but it was just falafel. I can make it myself.
Then we went to a Coriscan bistro and had bruschetta topped with coppa from Corsica plus cheese & tomato paste, along with a glass of a local white wine. This was very disappointing. Too much cheese, so the dish didn't taste of anything else. Next stop was a Provencal grocery store. There we tried a vinegar made with mango (I think) followed immediately by a shot of local olive oil. We also tried some pistachio butter, think peanut butter but from pistachios. I've bought a jar, but I'm not overly confident I'll be able to bring it back into the country.
Second last stop was the gelateria I went to last night. We got to try various flavours, including one made from carrot & ginger (tastier than I had expected) and also mango, candied walnuts, pear & vanilla and chocolate. All divine. Final stop was a chocolatier. He is eccentric. He insisted on knowing where we were from and what we liked. Then he selected for us what chocolates we could sample individually. Apparently terroir is just an important in chocolate as it is in wine. First we all tried a simple square of chocolate from Venezuela which was rich and smooth. Next we had one where the chocolate came from Papua New Guinea, where the volcanic soil gives the chocolate a peaty flavour like an Islay malt. I didn't like it. Next I was given one flavoured with Madras curry powder - blerg. Then I was given a chocolate with some sort of citrus in it as a palate cleanser. Finally we all got a spoonful of a blend of chocolate and roasted hazelnuts, with a lecture on the evils of Nutella (as that is mostly sugar and palm oil).
That was the end of the tour and so we went our separate ways. I went back to the Provencal grocery for the pistachio butter. I will be heartbroken if they confiscate it.
For dinner I went to a bistro called Chez Camille. It was recommended by the company that did the food tour and opened at an unfashionably early hour. When I got there at 7:15pm there were only a few tables occupied and all by tourists. By 8pm it was full to the brim with a mix of French (tourists too perhaps?) and tourists. Being in Paris the food was "traditional" French - so from all over the country. I started with a plate of charcuterie from the Auvergne. For main I had lamb chops with Provencal ratatouille. I must remember that combination as I can easily do that for my own dinner. For dessert I had fromage blanc (from nothern France) with a jug of red berry coulis. The fromage blanc has the consistency of marscapone but wasn't anywhere near as rich. It was a light and refreshing dessert. I washed down my meal with a small jug of Beaujolais.
Tomorrow back to Melbourne and sensible eating. Far less processed meats, far less wine and much more fresh fruit and vegetables. Very dull.
Monday, 15 October 2018
Saturday, 13 October 2018
Day 20 - Dijon to Paris
Distance Walked: probably at least 6km if not more, Alcohol Consumed: 2 glasses pinot noir, 1 glass 2012 Saint Emillion Grand Cru
I started the day with breakfast at a hipster cafe (the male barista had a man bun). I expected the coffee to be good, which is was, but the croissant was from yesterday and was stale. They took delivery of today's pastries as I was eating mine. Not happy Jan.
The trip to Paris was uneventful. I even braved the Metro to get to my hotel from the Gare de Lyon without any reason to worry about pickpockets. And I picked the correct exit (out of 5) at the metro stop near my hotel. I'm on a roll. I was to early to check in (I arrived at about 1pm) but they let me leave my suitcase, so I headed out for lunch.
I'm in the Marais district which is fabulous. So much happening and such interesting people and shops. It isn't a pedestrian area, even though it is very central. However, the pedestrians behave as if it is and the cars just have to cope. My only concern is that I am nowhere near chic enough and far too straight for this neighbourhood. Mind you, there is a "Proud to be Leather" festival going on in a nearby street so perhaps that has skewed the demographics.
My first choice for a lunch stop claimed to be full, which was clearly a lie. About 1/3rd of the tables were empty and at 1:30pm there was unlikely to be a mad rush before the end of lunch service at 2pm. My next choice, La Chaise au Plafond, turned out to be terribly earnest about house made food. The front page of the A4 menu was a manifesto about the shocking state of restaurants in Paris and all but claimed the chef/owner of this restaurant has single-handedly forced Parisian authorities to enforce a meaninful way of flagging restaurants that really cook their own food, rather than heating up pre-made dishes. He was also very intent on telling you about the origin of the ingredients in each dish. He stopped short of saying your steak was from Daisy the cow but only just.
When I went in and asked if they had a table for 1, the waiter looked around at all the empty tables and looked at me like I was an idiot and said I could sit where I liked. I was inclined to take offence but over the course of my lunch I saw he was rude and dismissive of all the customers. One poor couple came in at 1:55pm and he simply ignored them. They stood in the doorway for a good 5 minutes and he made no attempt to speak to them, even though he had to brush past them a few times. They eventually got the hint that he wasn't going to serve them and went away.
I had the soup of the day, which was a cream of some green vegetables - zuchinni and swiss chard I think. The waiter had better things to do that tell me what I was eating. It was very tasty, whatever it was. For main I had the dish of the day which turned out to be a pork chop with a mustard sauce. It came with fried zucchini slices (they must have got them cheap at the market) and mashed potatoes with leeks. The veg was good and the mustard sauce was tasty, but the chop was a bit tough. Dessert of the day was a fruit salad of pear, peaches and pineapple chopped into the tiniest pieces I ever seen, topped with a scoop of cream flavoured with vanilla. I also had a reasonable coffee to finish my meal.
After lunch I went to the Musee des Arts et Metiers. I had translated this as the Arts & Crafts museum and was not particularly interested in it, but my map of the Marais had an ad about it. It turns out it isn't Arts & Crafts, it is their Science & Technology museum. It was absolutely fascinating. It had all sorts of scientific instruments including some belonging to Pascal and Lavoisier and Foucault's Pendulum was in the basement. The only thing I didn't like about it was they had some computers on display that I remember using when I was a teenager. I'm not that old! I stayed until they kicked us all out at 6pm.
I checked into my hotel, the Hotel Bretonnerie, to be told I had been upgraded from a Classic room to a Charming room and it is charming. It has massive exposed beams in the ceiling, plush furnishings and a bathroom with marble floors and vanity and red & gold wallpaper on the walls and ceiling!
I headed out to dinner, a little concerned I might have trouble finding a place that would serve a single diner on a Saturday night, given this is such a popular area. I settled on a place called Robert et Louise as you could eat at the bar, so I wouldn't be taking up a table for two. It is called a restaurant de feu - which translate as restaurant of fire. It was in a very old building and it serves mainly meat which is cooked over an open fire in an old fashioned fireplace just like the one I'm getting rid of in Albert. It was a tiny place with a kitchen in one corner and the fireplace at the back. There was also a room downstairs with more seating and another kitchen that cooked the other dishes.
I had a seat at the bar upstairs and had a great view of how the barman/maitre d' managed the restaurant. If people came in without a reservation and he didn't like how they looked he would say the restaurant was full. If he liked them, he let them have one of the free tables or spots at the bar. I felt very priviledged to be permitted to dine there.
For entree I had a massive serving of pork rillettes which were delicious. They also plunked a large jar of cornichons on the bar next to me that I could help myself from. They were then taken away to be served to other customers. I'm sure food safety people in Australia wouldn't permit that. For main I had a confit duck leg, that came with roast potatoes and a salad. The duck leg was also delicious. Very tender but very rich. I hate to think what my cholesterol levels are like right now with all that saturated fat. While I was eating, a couple at a table behind me finished up. They had half a bottle of Saint Emillion wine left and they generously gave it to the pretty blonde woman sitting at the bar next to me. She generously shared it with me.
I didn't bother with dessert there as it isn't made of meat and can't be cooked over an open flame. Instead, I went to a wander around the neighbourhood as it is a very pleasant 26C right now and the streets are full of people. It seemed dull to just go back to the hotel. I came across a gelateria. The take ice cream very seriously here. Proper shops list the name of the chief ice cream maker on the door. I decided dessert was appropriate after all. I had a scoop of grapefruit sorbet which was very refreshing and a scoop of smoked chocolate which was just odd.
One more day of self-indulgence to go and then it is back to real life. Singapore Airlines has already started sending me emails letting me know I can check in online. Killjoys.
I started the day with breakfast at a hipster cafe (the male barista had a man bun). I expected the coffee to be good, which is was, but the croissant was from yesterday and was stale. They took delivery of today's pastries as I was eating mine. Not happy Jan.
The trip to Paris was uneventful. I even braved the Metro to get to my hotel from the Gare de Lyon without any reason to worry about pickpockets. And I picked the correct exit (out of 5) at the metro stop near my hotel. I'm on a roll. I was to early to check in (I arrived at about 1pm) but they let me leave my suitcase, so I headed out for lunch.
I'm in the Marais district which is fabulous. So much happening and such interesting people and shops. It isn't a pedestrian area, even though it is very central. However, the pedestrians behave as if it is and the cars just have to cope. My only concern is that I am nowhere near chic enough and far too straight for this neighbourhood. Mind you, there is a "Proud to be Leather" festival going on in a nearby street so perhaps that has skewed the demographics.
My first choice for a lunch stop claimed to be full, which was clearly a lie. About 1/3rd of the tables were empty and at 1:30pm there was unlikely to be a mad rush before the end of lunch service at 2pm. My next choice, La Chaise au Plafond, turned out to be terribly earnest about house made food. The front page of the A4 menu was a manifesto about the shocking state of restaurants in Paris and all but claimed the chef/owner of this restaurant has single-handedly forced Parisian authorities to enforce a meaninful way of flagging restaurants that really cook their own food, rather than heating up pre-made dishes. He was also very intent on telling you about the origin of the ingredients in each dish. He stopped short of saying your steak was from Daisy the cow but only just.
When I went in and asked if they had a table for 1, the waiter looked around at all the empty tables and looked at me like I was an idiot and said I could sit where I liked. I was inclined to take offence but over the course of my lunch I saw he was rude and dismissive of all the customers. One poor couple came in at 1:55pm and he simply ignored them. They stood in the doorway for a good 5 minutes and he made no attempt to speak to them, even though he had to brush past them a few times. They eventually got the hint that he wasn't going to serve them and went away.
I had the soup of the day, which was a cream of some green vegetables - zuchinni and swiss chard I think. The waiter had better things to do that tell me what I was eating. It was very tasty, whatever it was. For main I had the dish of the day which turned out to be a pork chop with a mustard sauce. It came with fried zucchini slices (they must have got them cheap at the market) and mashed potatoes with leeks. The veg was good and the mustard sauce was tasty, but the chop was a bit tough. Dessert of the day was a fruit salad of pear, peaches and pineapple chopped into the tiniest pieces I ever seen, topped with a scoop of cream flavoured with vanilla. I also had a reasonable coffee to finish my meal.
After lunch I went to the Musee des Arts et Metiers. I had translated this as the Arts & Crafts museum and was not particularly interested in it, but my map of the Marais had an ad about it. It turns out it isn't Arts & Crafts, it is their Science & Technology museum. It was absolutely fascinating. It had all sorts of scientific instruments including some belonging to Pascal and Lavoisier and Foucault's Pendulum was in the basement. The only thing I didn't like about it was they had some computers on display that I remember using when I was a teenager. I'm not that old! I stayed until they kicked us all out at 6pm.
I checked into my hotel, the Hotel Bretonnerie, to be told I had been upgraded from a Classic room to a Charming room and it is charming. It has massive exposed beams in the ceiling, plush furnishings and a bathroom with marble floors and vanity and red & gold wallpaper on the walls and ceiling!
I headed out to dinner, a little concerned I might have trouble finding a place that would serve a single diner on a Saturday night, given this is such a popular area. I settled on a place called Robert et Louise as you could eat at the bar, so I wouldn't be taking up a table for two. It is called a restaurant de feu - which translate as restaurant of fire. It was in a very old building and it serves mainly meat which is cooked over an open fire in an old fashioned fireplace just like the one I'm getting rid of in Albert. It was a tiny place with a kitchen in one corner and the fireplace at the back. There was also a room downstairs with more seating and another kitchen that cooked the other dishes.
I had a seat at the bar upstairs and had a great view of how the barman/maitre d' managed the restaurant. If people came in without a reservation and he didn't like how they looked he would say the restaurant was full. If he liked them, he let them have one of the free tables or spots at the bar. I felt very priviledged to be permitted to dine there.
For entree I had a massive serving of pork rillettes which were delicious. They also plunked a large jar of cornichons on the bar next to me that I could help myself from. They were then taken away to be served to other customers. I'm sure food safety people in Australia wouldn't permit that. For main I had a confit duck leg, that came with roast potatoes and a salad. The duck leg was also delicious. Very tender but very rich. I hate to think what my cholesterol levels are like right now with all that saturated fat. While I was eating, a couple at a table behind me finished up. They had half a bottle of Saint Emillion wine left and they generously gave it to the pretty blonde woman sitting at the bar next to me. She generously shared it with me.
I didn't bother with dessert there as it isn't made of meat and can't be cooked over an open flame. Instead, I went to a wander around the neighbourhood as it is a very pleasant 26C right now and the streets are full of people. It seemed dull to just go back to the hotel. I came across a gelateria. The take ice cream very seriously here. Proper shops list the name of the chief ice cream maker on the door. I decided dessert was appropriate after all. I had a scoop of grapefruit sorbet which was very refreshing and a scoop of smoked chocolate which was just odd.
One more day of self-indulgence to go and then it is back to real life. Singapore Airlines has already started sending me emails letting me know I can check in online. Killjoys.
Friday, 12 October 2018
Day 19 - Dijon
Distance Walked: a fair bit I expect, Alcohol Consumed: 1 glass kir, 1 glass white wine, 250ml pinot noir
In the morning I took a tour of the Dijon market. It was led by Phillipe who is a local from this region and went to university here in Dijon. He then spent 15 years working in local vineyards. He now works for a tour company, mainly leading wine tours but he also does this one too. There were 4 other women on this tour today, all racing car widows. That is, their husbands are mad, keen racers of vintages cars. They take long weekends off and compete in amateur events, leaving their wives to shop and sightsee. Three of the women were English and the fourth was an American woman, who has been living in Bern with her husband for the last 30 years.
The tour started at 10am with Phillipe taking us around some of the more famous sites and giving us a little of the history of Burgundy and Dijon. He had an adorable accent (and was very easy on the eye) so none of us corrected his mispronunciations. Our first food stop was the Edmond Fallot mustard shop, where we got to try 8 different sorts of mustard. Some were delicious, some not so much. I bought 5 mini jars to bring home. Mustard should surely be acceptable.
As it was now 11am it was time to stop for a drink and a snack. We had kir, which can only be properly made with creme de cassis and Aligote wine. Using any other wine means it is not kir. It was actually very good. The creme de cassis is sweet but the wine is very dry. The balance was just right so it was very refreshing and dangerously easy to drink. To eat we had a gougeres - choux pastry with comte cheese. Very pleasant also. I must try making them. Might even buy some creme de cassis. I know I can bring booze back into the country.
Next we wandered around the market itself and got a little of the history of it. It was built by Gustave Eiffel who is a Dijon local. This explains all the model Eiffel towers I saw at the museum yesterday. After looking around the market we stopped for another glass of wine and a snack. Phillipe said it was very important not to rush around. Shopping should be done calmly, with time to chat to the shopkeepers. Also, it is a good idea to stop and catch up with friends too. We had a local white wine (I forget which one) and a little plate of samples of local produce. Some cheese, a few cornichons and pickled onions, some salami, a tiny pat of local butter with some good bread and some of the famous ham persillade. The salami was forgettable but the ham was superb.
During our snack at the market Phillipe mentioned something about how it would be harder for the Englishwomen to buy French produce after Brexit. It turned out the three of them were all in favour of Brexit and didn't believe anything was going to go wrong. The American woman and I just rolled our eyes at each other and quickly changed the subject.
After this it was time for dessert so we visited Phillipe's favourite gingerbread shop, Mulot et Petitjean. In addition to slabs of gingerbread, they also sell nonnettes which are cakes of gingerbread with a jam filling. We each got one with a bitter orange marmelade filling which was lovely. The contrast was perfect. They come in packs of 6 but as Phillipe said, you don't just stop with one. You end up eating the lot.
The final stop on our tour was a chocolate and macaron shop. Phillipe said he always goes there when he gets his heart broken. Sadly our hearts were broken too as we'd taken too long at our other stops and they had shut for lunch.
After the tour I didn't feel like eating lunch. The other women were going shopping (clothes and shoes and such like) so I said good-bye and headed off. Instead, I did a walking tour around the city. There is a circuit around the city you can walk using a guide from the tourist bureau. It is identified by brass plates embedded in the ground at regular intervals. Each has the image of an owl in it. This owl (chouette) is the city's symbol. There is one carved into a pillar on one side of the cathedral. If you touch it with your left hand you can make a wish. It is very shiny as everyone stops to do that.
The walking tour takes about 2 hours - including optional detours - but I spent longer over it, window shopping, sitting in parks and eating gelati (pistachio and gingerbread).
I got stopped by a lost tourist asking for directions, which was pleasing. It has happened several times, including once in Paris. I look like a local, in spite of the way I dress, but I can't maintain the illusion once I open my mouth. At one of the museums in Lyon I was asked which department I was from as they like to keep track of where all their visitors come from. When I said I was from Australia, the man lapsed into English and said he was surprised as I look French. I said couldn't he tell from my accent as it was terrible, and he agreed with me! That was quite uncalled for.
For dinner I went to a place called Le Dome in the square around the market. I confess I chose it because, while the set menu looked interesting and reasonably priced, it was open at the unfashionably early hour of 7pm rather than 7:30pm or 8pm like the more serious restaurants. I suspected it was a tourist trap but was too hungry to care.
For entree I had fois gras again. This time it came with a few batons of gingerbread. This apparently is a traditional Dijon way of serving it. I had thought it sounded a horrible combination but gave it a try. I was right. It is horrible. However, the fois gras with plain bread was delicious. The best I've had so far on this trip. For main I had entrecot with frites, i.e. steak and chips. It was the most tender and tastiest steak I've ever eaten. The chips were decent, but not as good as Grandma used to make. For dessert I had what was labelled tiramisu. What I got was a dish full of a marscapone cream topped with lemon curd and sprinkled gingerbread. It wasn't remotely like a tiramisu but it was yummy. A very good meal. Much better than last night and a better price too.
In the morning I took a tour of the Dijon market. It was led by Phillipe who is a local from this region and went to university here in Dijon. He then spent 15 years working in local vineyards. He now works for a tour company, mainly leading wine tours but he also does this one too. There were 4 other women on this tour today, all racing car widows. That is, their husbands are mad, keen racers of vintages cars. They take long weekends off and compete in amateur events, leaving their wives to shop and sightsee. Three of the women were English and the fourth was an American woman, who has been living in Bern with her husband for the last 30 years.
The tour started at 10am with Phillipe taking us around some of the more famous sites and giving us a little of the history of Burgundy and Dijon. He had an adorable accent (and was very easy on the eye) so none of us corrected his mispronunciations. Our first food stop was the Edmond Fallot mustard shop, where we got to try 8 different sorts of mustard. Some were delicious, some not so much. I bought 5 mini jars to bring home. Mustard should surely be acceptable.
As it was now 11am it was time to stop for a drink and a snack. We had kir, which can only be properly made with creme de cassis and Aligote wine. Using any other wine means it is not kir. It was actually very good. The creme de cassis is sweet but the wine is very dry. The balance was just right so it was very refreshing and dangerously easy to drink. To eat we had a gougeres - choux pastry with comte cheese. Very pleasant also. I must try making them. Might even buy some creme de cassis. I know I can bring booze back into the country.
Next we wandered around the market itself and got a little of the history of it. It was built by Gustave Eiffel who is a Dijon local. This explains all the model Eiffel towers I saw at the museum yesterday. After looking around the market we stopped for another glass of wine and a snack. Phillipe said it was very important not to rush around. Shopping should be done calmly, with time to chat to the shopkeepers. Also, it is a good idea to stop and catch up with friends too. We had a local white wine (I forget which one) and a little plate of samples of local produce. Some cheese, a few cornichons and pickled onions, some salami, a tiny pat of local butter with some good bread and some of the famous ham persillade. The salami was forgettable but the ham was superb.
During our snack at the market Phillipe mentioned something about how it would be harder for the Englishwomen to buy French produce after Brexit. It turned out the three of them were all in favour of Brexit and didn't believe anything was going to go wrong. The American woman and I just rolled our eyes at each other and quickly changed the subject.
After this it was time for dessert so we visited Phillipe's favourite gingerbread shop, Mulot et Petitjean. In addition to slabs of gingerbread, they also sell nonnettes which are cakes of gingerbread with a jam filling. We each got one with a bitter orange marmelade filling which was lovely. The contrast was perfect. They come in packs of 6 but as Phillipe said, you don't just stop with one. You end up eating the lot.
The final stop on our tour was a chocolate and macaron shop. Phillipe said he always goes there when he gets his heart broken. Sadly our hearts were broken too as we'd taken too long at our other stops and they had shut for lunch.
After the tour I didn't feel like eating lunch. The other women were going shopping (clothes and shoes and such like) so I said good-bye and headed off. Instead, I did a walking tour around the city. There is a circuit around the city you can walk using a guide from the tourist bureau. It is identified by brass plates embedded in the ground at regular intervals. Each has the image of an owl in it. This owl (chouette) is the city's symbol. There is one carved into a pillar on one side of the cathedral. If you touch it with your left hand you can make a wish. It is very shiny as everyone stops to do that.
The walking tour takes about 2 hours - including optional detours - but I spent longer over it, window shopping, sitting in parks and eating gelati (pistachio and gingerbread).
I got stopped by a lost tourist asking for directions, which was pleasing. It has happened several times, including once in Paris. I look like a local, in spite of the way I dress, but I can't maintain the illusion once I open my mouth. At one of the museums in Lyon I was asked which department I was from as they like to keep track of where all their visitors come from. When I said I was from Australia, the man lapsed into English and said he was surprised as I look French. I said couldn't he tell from my accent as it was terrible, and he agreed with me! That was quite uncalled for.
For dinner I went to a place called Le Dome in the square around the market. I confess I chose it because, while the set menu looked interesting and reasonably priced, it was open at the unfashionably early hour of 7pm rather than 7:30pm or 8pm like the more serious restaurants. I suspected it was a tourist trap but was too hungry to care.
For entree I had fois gras again. This time it came with a few batons of gingerbread. This apparently is a traditional Dijon way of serving it. I had thought it sounded a horrible combination but gave it a try. I was right. It is horrible. However, the fois gras with plain bread was delicious. The best I've had so far on this trip. For main I had entrecot with frites, i.e. steak and chips. It was the most tender and tastiest steak I've ever eaten. The chips were decent, but not as good as Grandma used to make. For dessert I had what was labelled tiramisu. What I got was a dish full of a marscapone cream topped with lemon curd and sprinkled gingerbread. It wasn't remotely like a tiramisu but it was yummy. A very good meal. Much better than last night and a better price too.
Day 18 - Lyon to Dijon
Distance Walked: more than I liked, Alcohol Consumed: 2 glasses of Burgundy (of course)
Check out of my Lyon apartment was 10am, I came up here to Dijon bright and early. Dijon isn't quite as set up for tourists as the other places I've visited. I'm staying in a serviced apartment again. This one has a reception, however it shuts from 1pm to 3pm so the staff can have a proper lunch. I made to my apartment before closing time and left my suitcase before heading out for my own lunch.
The square around the market was packed with bistros and cafes so I chose one because I liked the sound of the dessert on the menu du jour - chocolate and figs. The entree was something with eggs and mushrooms which sounded OK to me. I didn't understand what the main course was but I figured this far inland it is unlikely to be fish. Below is the menu.
It turns out this is a very trendy and upmarket place. Still they found me a table, even with my hiking boots and daypack, and the service was prompt and cheerful. They gave me a madeline flavoured with mustard (of course) for an amuse bouche and the bread was a tiny loaf served in a paper bag, as if I had bought it from a boulangerie. The entree turned out to be a mix of mushrooms fried with a lightly poached egg on top then the whole thing topped with a foam. Don't they know foams as so last year? Main turned out to be a fillet of white fish topped with a puree of olives on a bed of white beans in a tomato sauce. The fish was tasteless, and therefore harmless, but the bean mix desperately needed salt. The dessert was a disappointment. A scoop of tasty chocolate ice cream and a short crust tart with a fig artfully sliced and arranged on top. The fig was tasteless as it wasn't ripe. I should have known not to get it as figs aren't in season any more.
After lunch I wandered around for a bit. Dijon was never important to the Romans. This is the only sign of their occupation I could find.
Most of the (ancient centre of) the city looks like this, which is just fabulous.
After 3pm, I went back to check in. There are many mansions in the centre that were owned by various aristocratic families. These take up a city block with emposing entrances and courtyard gardens. My hotel seemed to be in one of these. You walk in through what appears to be the carriage entrance to a central courtyard. However, once past the facade all the buildings are modern and a bit shabby. They appear to date from the 1960s. Still it is a spacious and comfortable apartment, and I got a lift to get up to my floor rather than lethally slippery stairs. It is also very central so I have great views from my 3rd floor windows.
I next visited the Musee de la Vie Bourguignonne - Musuem of Burgundian Life. It shows life in this region from the 18th cenntry through to the early 20th century. It was a fabulous museum. On the ground floor there were mannequins dressed in traditional costumes in tableaus representing different stages of life - birth, childhood, marriage, middle age and old age. Then there was a section all about daily life - baking bread, making cheese and butter, cooking and so on. Each display had the relevant objects and a series of cartoon drawings describing how Albertine (a servant?) would use them. All the descriptions were in French but the cartoons were well drawn so I got the gist of it, but I wish my French was better as I knew I was missing a lot. My favourite drawing was Albertine getting exciting because they family had bought a fancy new wood burning stove so she didn't need to cook over an open flame any more.
Upstairs were reproductions of 11 shops from the last 19th century/early 20th century - just fascinating. One was of a shop selling a particular brand of biscuit that used to be/is made here. The factory that made them took up a whole section of the city - there was a model. There was also a very early film documentary (pre talking movies) about how the factory made the biscuits. They were very proud of how mechanised the whole process was, not human hands involved. It was an interesting contrast to current times, when hand made things are considered special, not the reverse. It is clearly all about what is rare and what is common.
The final section of the museum was mostly about famous products of the city - mustard, of course, but also cassis and similar liqueurs and gingerbread, and also about people. There was a rather moving display about a father and son, with photographs, postcards, letters home and various official documents about them. Father served in the 1st world war and got a medal. Son served in the 2nd and was captured and put in a camp in Czechoslovakia. When he was released he got hold of a push bike and rode it all the way home. I'm not sure if these two men were famous in any way. I think it was just that they had items from them to illustrate their life story.
After this museum I went back to my apartment for a rest. My legs are very weary after all the hills yesterday - particularly my shins. I also checked out places for dinner as I didn't want another disappointment. I decided on a restaurant that serves traditional food called Bistro de l'Amiral Dijon. It was on Admiral Somebody-or-other street. I set off to find it but it was marked on my map as Rue Somebody-or-other and I only remembered the Admiral bit. I wandered around in the right general area for a while then decided to just stop at the next restaurant that I came to - which turned out to the one.
For entree I had fois gras, which was delicious (as always) but was served with toasted bread that was slightly sweet (brioche perhaps) which was a little odd. For main I had beef bourguignon, which was very tasty but was just cubes of beef in a (delicious) sauce. It was served with a little side dish of mashed potatoes, which needed more butter and cream, not something I would have ever thought I would say about a French dish. For dessert I had a creme brulee with gingerbread spices, mainly nutmeg from the taste and not so much ginger. Still it was good.
I think I'm going to have to eat exclusively vegetarian food for a few weeks after getting home, just to balance out all the food I've been eating here.
Check out of my Lyon apartment was 10am, I came up here to Dijon bright and early. Dijon isn't quite as set up for tourists as the other places I've visited. I'm staying in a serviced apartment again. This one has a reception, however it shuts from 1pm to 3pm so the staff can have a proper lunch. I made to my apartment before closing time and left my suitcase before heading out for my own lunch.
The square around the market was packed with bistros and cafes so I chose one because I liked the sound of the dessert on the menu du jour - chocolate and figs. The entree was something with eggs and mushrooms which sounded OK to me. I didn't understand what the main course was but I figured this far inland it is unlikely to be fish. Below is the menu.
After lunch I wandered around for a bit. Dijon was never important to the Romans. This is the only sign of their occupation I could find.
Most of the (ancient centre of) the city looks like this, which is just fabulous.
After 3pm, I went back to check in. There are many mansions in the centre that were owned by various aristocratic families. These take up a city block with emposing entrances and courtyard gardens. My hotel seemed to be in one of these. You walk in through what appears to be the carriage entrance to a central courtyard. However, once past the facade all the buildings are modern and a bit shabby. They appear to date from the 1960s. Still it is a spacious and comfortable apartment, and I got a lift to get up to my floor rather than lethally slippery stairs. It is also very central so I have great views from my 3rd floor windows.
I next visited the Musee de la Vie Bourguignonne - Musuem of Burgundian Life. It shows life in this region from the 18th cenntry through to the early 20th century. It was a fabulous museum. On the ground floor there were mannequins dressed in traditional costumes in tableaus representing different stages of life - birth, childhood, marriage, middle age and old age. Then there was a section all about daily life - baking bread, making cheese and butter, cooking and so on. Each display had the relevant objects and a series of cartoon drawings describing how Albertine (a servant?) would use them. All the descriptions were in French but the cartoons were well drawn so I got the gist of it, but I wish my French was better as I knew I was missing a lot. My favourite drawing was Albertine getting exciting because they family had bought a fancy new wood burning stove so she didn't need to cook over an open flame any more.
Upstairs were reproductions of 11 shops from the last 19th century/early 20th century - just fascinating. One was of a shop selling a particular brand of biscuit that used to be/is made here. The factory that made them took up a whole section of the city - there was a model. There was also a very early film documentary (pre talking movies) about how the factory made the biscuits. They were very proud of how mechanised the whole process was, not human hands involved. It was an interesting contrast to current times, when hand made things are considered special, not the reverse. It is clearly all about what is rare and what is common.
The final section of the museum was mostly about famous products of the city - mustard, of course, but also cassis and similar liqueurs and gingerbread, and also about people. There was a rather moving display about a father and son, with photographs, postcards, letters home and various official documents about them. Father served in the 1st world war and got a medal. Son served in the 2nd and was captured and put in a camp in Czechoslovakia. When he was released he got hold of a push bike and rode it all the way home. I'm not sure if these two men were famous in any way. I think it was just that they had items from them to illustrate their life story.
After this museum I went back to my apartment for a rest. My legs are very weary after all the hills yesterday - particularly my shins. I also checked out places for dinner as I didn't want another disappointment. I decided on a restaurant that serves traditional food called Bistro de l'Amiral Dijon. It was on Admiral Somebody-or-other street. I set off to find it but it was marked on my map as Rue Somebody-or-other and I only remembered the Admiral bit. I wandered around in the right general area for a while then decided to just stop at the next restaurant that I came to - which turned out to the one.
For entree I had fois gras, which was delicious (as always) but was served with toasted bread that was slightly sweet (brioche perhaps) which was a little odd. For main I had beef bourguignon, which was very tasty but was just cubes of beef in a (delicious) sauce. It was served with a little side dish of mashed potatoes, which needed more butter and cream, not something I would have ever thought I would say about a French dish. For dessert I had a creme brulee with gingerbread spices, mainly nutmeg from the taste and not so much ginger. Still it was good.
I think I'm going to have to eat exclusively vegetarian food for a few weeks after getting home, just to balance out all the food I've been eating here.
Wednesday, 10 October 2018
Day 17 - Lyon
Distance Walked: quite a lot actually, Alcohol Consumed: 375ml Cotes du Rhone
I started the morning with a leisurely breakfast from the dinner supplies I bought last night. I then head off up to the top of the hill to see the Roman ruins and visit the Gallo-Roman museum of Lyon. I thought about taking the funicular up to the top but thought I could use the exercise, and exercise is what I got. It was a steep climb.
I wandered around the remains of two theatres and the baths and then followed a path all around the top of the hill. Here is the marble orchestra pit in the smaller theatre. It features marble varieties from all around the Roman empire. If you have it, flaunt it, seems to have been the motto of the builders.
This scenic route was supposed to take 2 hours but only took me one. The museum doesn't open until 11am so I was killing time until then. The museum was well done with a free English audio guide that described all the major displays. My French was sufficient for the rest. The best bit was a scale model of the two hills the town is built on. There was an 8 minute video of the history of the founding of Lyon by the Romans where lights were used to highlight the areas on the model that were currently being talked about.
The only problem with the museum was its opening hour. After wandering around for a bit I realised I should have waited until the afternoon to visit. Most restaurants here only open from 12pm to 2pm for lunch. They take a dim view of anyone who shows up after 1:30pm wanting to be fed, so I had to leave the museum earlier than I wanted to. They had lots of mosaics in the museum and the shop had a kit for making your own, which I had to buy.
I headed back down the hill to the square where I had dinner my first night in Lyon. I thought about eating at Les Ventre Jaunes again since I enjoyed it last time but thought I should try something different. I chose another bouchon on the square. I had the French onion soup to start, which was harmless. For main I chose the quenelles of pike with lobster sauce. Quenelles are light dumplings made of something mashed with egg whites which are then poached. I've only ever seen them made using tablespoons to form them. However, my quenelle was a single large log. Let us just say it looked like a sausage, since I am describing food. The sauce was bright orange and is made from the shells and other leftover bits of a lobster. The quenelle was as light as I had hoped, but very fishy. Why I wasn't expecting a dish made of fish to taste fishy is a mystery to me. For dessert I had the chocolate fondant, i.e. a chocolate self-saucing pudding. However, it was overcooked and the middle was solid. It was tasty and the chocolate ganache that came with it was delicious. Still, I should have gone to Les Ventre Jaunes again.
After lunch I visited the Museum of Fabric and the Museum of Decorative Arts (they are on the same site). Lyon is famous for its silk. The museum on the history of the silk workers is supposed to be better but it is harder to get to. The Fabric museum was ok, but mainly just room after room of amazing silk fabrics. I would have liked more information on how silk fabric is made. There was a little about Jacquard looms but that was it. The best part were examples of silk clothing from the 17th and 18th century. Women were so tiny in those days. Below is one of the dresses. I'm sure the fabric cost a fortune but it looks like it has boils. Not flattering at all.
I didn't like the Museum of Decorative Arts so much. These are ususally just the sort of museum I like as it is all furniture and household objects. However, the French style is much more ornate than suits my taste. There was hardly anything I would have liked to take home with me.
On the way back to my apartment I walked through the big square here - Place Bellecour. They were having a local food festival where local producers were showing their wares. Each stall was by the local farmer so each only displayed one type of item. There were stalls with salamis, cheese, honey and, of course, wine. However, there were also some speciality stalls, including 2 different ones just with snails, one who just sold lentils, one with herbs and one poor sod trying to show off his onions and garlic. As Tony Abbott wasn't in town, nobody was interesting in eating a sample of his wares.
For dinner I went to Les Lyonnais Bouchon as it is one of only 20-odd bouchon in Lyon who can "officially" call themselves a bouchon. Singles or couples who came in off the street without a reservation were seated at a big communal table in the middle of the restaurant. Probably more typical of how a traditional bouchon would have been back in the day. My neighbour was a woman from northern France who was in town for a training course. The waiters stopped by to chat too when they had the time. A very pleasant evening from a social point of view.
The food was not bad, but I still prefer Les Ventre Jaunes (which is not an "official" bouchon). For entree I had the house terrine which came with onion confit, cornichons and a green salad when a good, sharp dressing. It was OK but the terrine was a bit bland. For main I had Gateau de Foie de Volaille Maison, which translates as chicken liver cake. I had thought it would be layers of pastry and pate but it was just a puck of pate with a tomato sauce. Very tasty but the accompanyments were just some fried mushrooms and plain rice. That seemed to be the standard sides for all the main courses. The restaurant says it makes all its entrees and mains in-house but I could see into the kitchen and both the stock and the frites came from packets. For dessert I had the cafe gourmand so I could sample several desserts. I was served a scoop of sweetened cream topped with salted caramel (too sweet and rich), half a chocolate fondant (very good), an espresso cup of panna cotta (too sweet again), a decent (but unnecessary) creme caramel and an excellent creme brulee. I am now gently digesting rather like an overfed snake.
I started the morning with a leisurely breakfast from the dinner supplies I bought last night. I then head off up to the top of the hill to see the Roman ruins and visit the Gallo-Roman museum of Lyon. I thought about taking the funicular up to the top but thought I could use the exercise, and exercise is what I got. It was a steep climb.
I wandered around the remains of two theatres and the baths and then followed a path all around the top of the hill. Here is the marble orchestra pit in the smaller theatre. It features marble varieties from all around the Roman empire. If you have it, flaunt it, seems to have been the motto of the builders.
This scenic route was supposed to take 2 hours but only took me one. The museum doesn't open until 11am so I was killing time until then. The museum was well done with a free English audio guide that described all the major displays. My French was sufficient for the rest. The best bit was a scale model of the two hills the town is built on. There was an 8 minute video of the history of the founding of Lyon by the Romans where lights were used to highlight the areas on the model that were currently being talked about.
The only problem with the museum was its opening hour. After wandering around for a bit I realised I should have waited until the afternoon to visit. Most restaurants here only open from 12pm to 2pm for lunch. They take a dim view of anyone who shows up after 1:30pm wanting to be fed, so I had to leave the museum earlier than I wanted to. They had lots of mosaics in the museum and the shop had a kit for making your own, which I had to buy.
I headed back down the hill to the square where I had dinner my first night in Lyon. I thought about eating at Les Ventre Jaunes again since I enjoyed it last time but thought I should try something different. I chose another bouchon on the square. I had the French onion soup to start, which was harmless. For main I chose the quenelles of pike with lobster sauce. Quenelles are light dumplings made of something mashed with egg whites which are then poached. I've only ever seen them made using tablespoons to form them. However, my quenelle was a single large log. Let us just say it looked like a sausage, since I am describing food. The sauce was bright orange and is made from the shells and other leftover bits of a lobster. The quenelle was as light as I had hoped, but very fishy. Why I wasn't expecting a dish made of fish to taste fishy is a mystery to me. For dessert I had the chocolate fondant, i.e. a chocolate self-saucing pudding. However, it was overcooked and the middle was solid. It was tasty and the chocolate ganache that came with it was delicious. Still, I should have gone to Les Ventre Jaunes again.
After lunch I visited the Museum of Fabric and the Museum of Decorative Arts (they are on the same site). Lyon is famous for its silk. The museum on the history of the silk workers is supposed to be better but it is harder to get to. The Fabric museum was ok, but mainly just room after room of amazing silk fabrics. I would have liked more information on how silk fabric is made. There was a little about Jacquard looms but that was it. The best part were examples of silk clothing from the 17th and 18th century. Women were so tiny in those days. Below is one of the dresses. I'm sure the fabric cost a fortune but it looks like it has boils. Not flattering at all.
I didn't like the Museum of Decorative Arts so much. These are ususally just the sort of museum I like as it is all furniture and household objects. However, the French style is much more ornate than suits my taste. There was hardly anything I would have liked to take home with me.
On the way back to my apartment I walked through the big square here - Place Bellecour. They were having a local food festival where local producers were showing their wares. Each stall was by the local farmer so each only displayed one type of item. There were stalls with salamis, cheese, honey and, of course, wine. However, there were also some speciality stalls, including 2 different ones just with snails, one who just sold lentils, one with herbs and one poor sod trying to show off his onions and garlic. As Tony Abbott wasn't in town, nobody was interesting in eating a sample of his wares.
For dinner I went to Les Lyonnais Bouchon as it is one of only 20-odd bouchon in Lyon who can "officially" call themselves a bouchon. Singles or couples who came in off the street without a reservation were seated at a big communal table in the middle of the restaurant. Probably more typical of how a traditional bouchon would have been back in the day. My neighbour was a woman from northern France who was in town for a training course. The waiters stopped by to chat too when they had the time. A very pleasant evening from a social point of view.
The food was not bad, but I still prefer Les Ventre Jaunes (which is not an "official" bouchon). For entree I had the house terrine which came with onion confit, cornichons and a green salad when a good, sharp dressing. It was OK but the terrine was a bit bland. For main I had Gateau de Foie de Volaille Maison, which translates as chicken liver cake. I had thought it would be layers of pastry and pate but it was just a puck of pate with a tomato sauce. Very tasty but the accompanyments were just some fried mushrooms and plain rice. That seemed to be the standard sides for all the main courses. The restaurant says it makes all its entrees and mains in-house but I could see into the kitchen and both the stock and the frites came from packets. For dessert I had the cafe gourmand so I could sample several desserts. I was served a scoop of sweetened cream topped with salted caramel (too sweet and rich), half a chocolate fondant (very good), an espresso cup of panna cotta (too sweet again), a decent (but unnecessary) creme caramel and an excellent creme brulee. I am now gently digesting rather like an overfed snake.
Tuesday, 9 October 2018
Day 16 - Lyon
Distance Walked: not a lot again, Alcohol Consumed: 2 glasses red wine
Today was cooking class day. The class, Plum Lyon, was held in the Croix Rousse district which is built on a very high hill. It is some distance from my apartment so I headed over there early and had my breakfast at a cafe nearby so I wouldn't have to rush to find it. The cafe turns out to be run by a Kiwi - it had flat whites on the menu. The coffee was very good.
There were six of us in the class. A mother and daughter duo from Tennessee. Mother had recently retired so the two of them had left their spouses (spice?) at home to go travelling, with a focus on food and drink. There was another couple, an Australian woman who had just gotten married to an Englishman. There honeymoon involved eating and drinking their way through France and onto Italy. The fifth person was a woman, originally from Lebanon, but now living in Tunisia. She is a journalist but is thinking of throwing it all in and becoming a chef. She has taken a few weeks off work and is taking cooking classes to see if preparing food is as exciting as she thinks. I suspect enjoying cooking and enjoying being a chef are very different things. Our instructor, Lucy, was an American woman who had met and married a Frenchman. She used to be a commoditites trader but retrained as a pastry chef. She gave that up to run the school once she had children, as a pastry chef's hours are not particularly civilised.
To start with we went to the local market to buy ingredients for our meal. This involved walking up to the top of the hill, so Lucy paused frequently and told us a little of the history of Lyon and its food. It was a major Roman town, the capital of the northern part of the empire, so the roads and merchant networks were excellent. For that reason it has had some of the best food and food culture for centuries.
Once we got to the market, we did a quick wander through it to see what was good. Lucy told us how to spot which stall was run by a local farmer and which was run by someone who has just gone to the wholesale market and was reselling what they'd bought from there. In addition to fruit and vegetables, there were several stands selling charcuterie, cheese, meat and one that sold nothing but various sorts of olives. Once we'd gone through the market once we decided on what looked good and what we were going to buy to cook. Below is the menu we came up with.
After buying all the fresh ingredients we headed back to the school to start preparing it all. The class had started at 9am but we didn't start preparing food until 11:30am. I'd had a light breakfast so was getting peckish. However, the first thing we did was slice up lots of onions for the onion confit. This takes at least 3 hours to cook. Next we started a veal stock, which included veal bones. We pushed the marrow out of the bones first and put that aside. Next we made homemade mayonnaise for the remoulade sauce. This is actually dead easy to do. Next we grated the celeriac (actually Lucy's KitchenAid mixer did that) and topped it with the remoulade sauce. This was served with 5 different sorts of salami, tiny goat's cheeses, two sorts of terrine and radishes served with butter and salt (which is a popular snack here apparently). The marrow was mashed and spread on bread & sprinkled with salt. This was then toasted in the oven. It was very good. I don't like marrow as a rule, but served this way it was just a mouthful of something a bit rich, a bit salty and a bit crunchy. I liked it a lot. We washed this all down with a local sparkling wine. This was our entree course but we didn't get to it until 2pm, so we were all ravenous.
Next we made the apple tarte tatin, pastry first then slicing the apples and making the caramel, before putting it all in the oven. After that we cleaned a bunch of mushrooms by brushing them with paintbrushes, which took an absurd amount of time. Finally we made a salt rub for the duck. This included grinding up rosemary and other herbs and spices in a mortar and pestle so we took it in turns as fresh rosemary takes forever to grind down by hand. Then we made a sauce by reducing down half a bottle of red wine with shallots then adding obscene amounts of butter. Finally, we cooked the duck breasts, pouring off the rendering fat to use to fry our potato cake. I forgot, at some point in all of this, we steamed some tiny leaks and made a vinagrette for it. Finally at 5pm we sat down for out main course. Below is the duck with mushrooms around it (it was sitting on a bed of confit onions), then the potato cake (sadly too thick so it was mushy on the inside) and the leeks (very tasty).
The best bit of this course was the duck with the sauce. I must try that at home. The leeks were good too.
After this we tried a bunch of different cheeses, including two sorts of Comte and rather runny brie-style cheese. Again, I had to resist the urge to make Monty Python quotes.
Finally we had the tarte tatin. This was good but needed something to cut the sweetness. Raspberries perhaps.
We then all made promises to keep in touch, that none of us will keep, before staggering off. The honeymooning couple had a dinner booked for 8pm but the rest of us couldn't face the thought of food. I walked back to the apartment and stopped at a boulangerie as it was near closing and bought myself a mini pizza and a pastry. I'm not sure if I'll eat any of it. Perhaps breakfast tomorrow.
There were six of us in the class. A mother and daughter duo from Tennessee. Mother had recently retired so the two of them had left their spouses (spice?) at home to go travelling, with a focus on food and drink. There was another couple, an Australian woman who had just gotten married to an Englishman. There honeymoon involved eating and drinking their way through France and onto Italy. The fifth person was a woman, originally from Lebanon, but now living in Tunisia. She is a journalist but is thinking of throwing it all in and becoming a chef. She has taken a few weeks off work and is taking cooking classes to see if preparing food is as exciting as she thinks. I suspect enjoying cooking and enjoying being a chef are very different things. Our instructor, Lucy, was an American woman who had met and married a Frenchman. She used to be a commoditites trader but retrained as a pastry chef. She gave that up to run the school once she had children, as a pastry chef's hours are not particularly civilised.
To start with we went to the local market to buy ingredients for our meal. This involved walking up to the top of the hill, so Lucy paused frequently and told us a little of the history of Lyon and its food. It was a major Roman town, the capital of the northern part of the empire, so the roads and merchant networks were excellent. For that reason it has had some of the best food and food culture for centuries.
Once we got to the market, we did a quick wander through it to see what was good. Lucy told us how to spot which stall was run by a local farmer and which was run by someone who has just gone to the wholesale market and was reselling what they'd bought from there. In addition to fruit and vegetables, there were several stands selling charcuterie, cheese, meat and one that sold nothing but various sorts of olives. Once we'd gone through the market once we decided on what looked good and what we were going to buy to cook. Below is the menu we came up with.
Next we made the apple tarte tatin, pastry first then slicing the apples and making the caramel, before putting it all in the oven. After that we cleaned a bunch of mushrooms by brushing them with paintbrushes, which took an absurd amount of time. Finally we made a salt rub for the duck. This included grinding up rosemary and other herbs and spices in a mortar and pestle so we took it in turns as fresh rosemary takes forever to grind down by hand. Then we made a sauce by reducing down half a bottle of red wine with shallots then adding obscene amounts of butter. Finally, we cooked the duck breasts, pouring off the rendering fat to use to fry our potato cake. I forgot, at some point in all of this, we steamed some tiny leaks and made a vinagrette for it. Finally at 5pm we sat down for out main course. Below is the duck with mushrooms around it (it was sitting on a bed of confit onions), then the potato cake (sadly too thick so it was mushy on the inside) and the leeks (very tasty).
The best bit of this course was the duck with the sauce. I must try that at home. The leeks were good too.
After this we tried a bunch of different cheeses, including two sorts of Comte and rather runny brie-style cheese. Again, I had to resist the urge to make Monty Python quotes.
Finally we had the tarte tatin. This was good but needed something to cut the sweetness. Raspberries perhaps.
We then all made promises to keep in touch, that none of us will keep, before staggering off. The honeymooning couple had a dinner booked for 8pm but the rest of us couldn't face the thought of food. I walked back to the apartment and stopped at a boulangerie as it was near closing and bought myself a mini pizza and a pastry. I'm not sure if I'll eat any of it. Perhaps breakfast tomorrow.
Day 15 - Arles to Lyon
Distance Walked: not a lot, Alcohol Consumed: 250ml of Beaujolais
I caught the train from Arles to Lyon today. It was quite a leisurely trip - partly because it is quite a distance, but also because it was not a particularly fast train. Arles isn't really on the direct route between Marseille and Lyon. It is a little off to the left so my options were the 4 hour slow train or to head back to Marseille and take the TGV. What with having to make a connection that would have taken about 4 hours too so I just took the one train.
I had dithered about buying a first class ticket - I deserve it after all - but decided not to bother. I had travelled 2nd class up from Marseille and that was fine. I'm glad I didn't take the more expensive option. Today's train wasn't compartments like yesterday, but standard a standard train carriage set up. The first class section was just part of the carriage separated by a clear partition with a door in it. As far as I could see the major difference was in the colour of the seats. They may have been slightly further apart in 1st class but the difference wasn't large. The biggest difference between 1st and 2nd in my carriage was a homeless man had set up house in the1st class section and he was pungent. Everyone who got into his section took one breath and then hustled over to join us in 2nd class. A conductor did wander through at one point but didn't bother doing anything - including checking if any one had a ticket.
When I got to Lyon I used the Metro to get to my lodging here. I'm not staying in a hotel. Instead I'm in a serviced apartment in Vieux Lyon - the old town section. This is in contrast the new town section which only dates from the days of the French Revolution. My apartment is in a heritage listed building that is 600 years old. This means it is a fabulous structure, but it also means the stairwell looks like this. Those steps are every bit as slippery as they look. Luckily I'm only on the 2nd floor so not too many to climb up, lugging suitcases.
I'd been sent an email with the keycode for the door and the number of my apartment, but when I got to my door I discovered my key was in a lockbox beside the apartment door. They had neglected to give me the code to that box. I called a perky young man who apologised profusely (and at length) but gave me the code. He also insisted on giving me the history of the building, which was very interesting but not at roaming mobile call rates. Apparently it was the home of a master silk weaver, with a workshop on the ground floor and a multi-storey house above for family and workers. My apartment was once the room belonging to one of the daughters of the house as it has 4 windows and glass was a luxury in those days.
Below is a picture of the entirety of my apartment, from standing in the doorway. To the right is my bathroom, complete with a washer-dryer combo. To the left is my little kitchen, with a tiny dishwasher, bar fridge, two burner stove top and microwave. If I lose my mind, I could actually cook for myself. The other photo is of the doorway itself, with rough stone walls and massive timber ceiling beams.
After putting on a load of washing (it is very sad when the chance to do laundry is exciting but clean clothes are nice to have) I went for a wander around town. I headed over a bridge into the new(er) part of town and just generally roamed around. I like Lyon a lot. It has plenty of tourists but also is clearly a prosperous city with plenty of other industries/business too. There is also a big emphasis on food, which is always pleasing.
For dinner I chose a restaurant because I liked the name. It was decorated with yellow paint and lots of drawings/figures of chickens. The name was Les Ventre Jaunes which means yellow bellies. It took me an embarassingly long amount of time to understand what that had to do with chickens.
It was a bouchon, which turns out to be a typical Lyonnaise bistro that traditionally served food to workers and lower classes. Definitely rustic rather than haute cuisine with an emphasis on sausages and offal - i.e. the cheaper cuts of meat.
For entree I had there charcuterie plate, which was enormous. It came with 6 or 7 different types of meats including a big slab of homemade terrine. It was all sitting on top of a rather tasty green salad, which was good as it was all quite rich. For main I had the andouillette, which I chose because I'd never heard of it before. The waiter was a little astonished and asked me several times if I was sure. I understood why when it came. It is a sausage made from pork intestines (chitterlings) and has quite a strong flavour. This particular version had been rolled into a large, thick sausage and my serving was two slices that had been cut from it and grilled. It came with a strongly flavoured mustard sauce. I actually liked it, but I believe it can have more pronounced flavour so perhaps I got lucky. I won't risk it again. Accompanying all this was some potatoes dauphinois, two cheesey choux pastry puffs and some mashed, spiced pumpkin. For dessert I chose faisselle - again because I had no idea what it was. It turned out to be a soft, fresh cheese rather like ricotta, which was served with a raspberry coulis. This was inoffensively good. All in all, an enjoyable meal.
I caught the train from Arles to Lyon today. It was quite a leisurely trip - partly because it is quite a distance, but also because it was not a particularly fast train. Arles isn't really on the direct route between Marseille and Lyon. It is a little off to the left so my options were the 4 hour slow train or to head back to Marseille and take the TGV. What with having to make a connection that would have taken about 4 hours too so I just took the one train.
I had dithered about buying a first class ticket - I deserve it after all - but decided not to bother. I had travelled 2nd class up from Marseille and that was fine. I'm glad I didn't take the more expensive option. Today's train wasn't compartments like yesterday, but standard a standard train carriage set up. The first class section was just part of the carriage separated by a clear partition with a door in it. As far as I could see the major difference was in the colour of the seats. They may have been slightly further apart in 1st class but the difference wasn't large. The biggest difference between 1st and 2nd in my carriage was a homeless man had set up house in the1st class section and he was pungent. Everyone who got into his section took one breath and then hustled over to join us in 2nd class. A conductor did wander through at one point but didn't bother doing anything - including checking if any one had a ticket.
When I got to Lyon I used the Metro to get to my lodging here. I'm not staying in a hotel. Instead I'm in a serviced apartment in Vieux Lyon - the old town section. This is in contrast the new town section which only dates from the days of the French Revolution. My apartment is in a heritage listed building that is 600 years old. This means it is a fabulous structure, but it also means the stairwell looks like this. Those steps are every bit as slippery as they look. Luckily I'm only on the 2nd floor so not too many to climb up, lugging suitcases.
I'd been sent an email with the keycode for the door and the number of my apartment, but when I got to my door I discovered my key was in a lockbox beside the apartment door. They had neglected to give me the code to that box. I called a perky young man who apologised profusely (and at length) but gave me the code. He also insisted on giving me the history of the building, which was very interesting but not at roaming mobile call rates. Apparently it was the home of a master silk weaver, with a workshop on the ground floor and a multi-storey house above for family and workers. My apartment was once the room belonging to one of the daughters of the house as it has 4 windows and glass was a luxury in those days.
Below is a picture of the entirety of my apartment, from standing in the doorway. To the right is my bathroom, complete with a washer-dryer combo. To the left is my little kitchen, with a tiny dishwasher, bar fridge, two burner stove top and microwave. If I lose my mind, I could actually cook for myself. The other photo is of the doorway itself, with rough stone walls and massive timber ceiling beams.
After putting on a load of washing (it is very sad when the chance to do laundry is exciting but clean clothes are nice to have) I went for a wander around town. I headed over a bridge into the new(er) part of town and just generally roamed around. I like Lyon a lot. It has plenty of tourists but also is clearly a prosperous city with plenty of other industries/business too. There is also a big emphasis on food, which is always pleasing.
For dinner I chose a restaurant because I liked the name. It was decorated with yellow paint and lots of drawings/figures of chickens. The name was Les Ventre Jaunes which means yellow bellies. It took me an embarassingly long amount of time to understand what that had to do with chickens.
It was a bouchon, which turns out to be a typical Lyonnaise bistro that traditionally served food to workers and lower classes. Definitely rustic rather than haute cuisine with an emphasis on sausages and offal - i.e. the cheaper cuts of meat.
For entree I had there charcuterie plate, which was enormous. It came with 6 or 7 different types of meats including a big slab of homemade terrine. It was all sitting on top of a rather tasty green salad, which was good as it was all quite rich. For main I had the andouillette, which I chose because I'd never heard of it before. The waiter was a little astonished and asked me several times if I was sure. I understood why when it came. It is a sausage made from pork intestines (chitterlings) and has quite a strong flavour. This particular version had been rolled into a large, thick sausage and my serving was two slices that had been cut from it and grilled. It came with a strongly flavoured mustard sauce. I actually liked it, but I believe it can have more pronounced flavour so perhaps I got lucky. I won't risk it again. Accompanying all this was some potatoes dauphinois, two cheesey choux pastry puffs and some mashed, spiced pumpkin. For dessert I chose faisselle - again because I had no idea what it was. It turned out to be a soft, fresh cheese rather like ricotta, which was served with a raspberry coulis. This was inoffensively good. All in all, an enjoyable meal.
Sunday, 7 October 2018
Day 14 - Arles
Distance Walked: quite a lot actually, Alcohol Consumed: about 1/2 bottle of rose
It didn't just rain overnight, there was thunder and lightening. It was still raining when I woke up at 7:30am. However, by the time I had finished getting up and having a leisurely breakfast it had stopped and it remained fine the rest of the day.
I opted for the buffet breakfast at the hotel as I wasn't sure if the weather would stay fine. It wasn't worth the money. I was the last person to come in and so they didn't bother replenishing anything, even though I was there at 8:30am and they serve breakfast until 10am. There were no glasses left for the fruit juice, no pain au chocolat just croissants and only some elderly scrambled eggs but no bacon. I won't bother with it tomorrow. A disappointment for what has otherwise been a very comfortable hotel.
After breakfast my first stop was the Cryptoportico. This is under the current town hall. When they were constructing the new town hall (just recently - about 200 years ago) they found the remains of the Roman forum in what is now their basement level. Below that was the basement of the Forum itself. Three sides of it are still there - two long sides and one end. It is basically just vaulted arches with the random junk that gets left behind when someone moves out - in this case chunks of broken marble statues which they would burn for the lime. Mostly it was just an open space, but one side had bricked in arches that merchants could use for storage. It was only dimly lit and I was the only person there so there was no sound except for my footsteps and the dripping of water in spots where all the rain from last night was seeping through the walls and roof. It was amazing but a bit creepy. You wouldn't want to be claustrophobic.
Just as I was leaving a bus load of German tourist showed up. I was so glad I turned up early. They would have completely spoilt the mood.
The next stop on my all things Roman tour was the remains of the Baths of Constantine. About 1/3 of these have been uncovered. The rest was either cannibalised for bricks and marble or incorporated into other buildings. When it was rediscovered in the 16th century they first thought it must have been a palace because what remained was so imposing. Nope, it was just the public baths. Roman construction is certainly built to last. Or perhaps that is confirmation bias, since anything that wasn't sturdily built will have long since disintegrated. Below is a cat have a wash at the baths. It wouldn't let me pat it.
Final stop before lunch was the amphitheatre. Again, a lot had been demolished but it is still a very impressive structure. They've also restored a lot of it and hold events there. Imagine going to a concert at that stadium? You could clamber around most of it, not like the Colosseum in Rome. However, unlike the one in Rome, you couldn't go to the parts underground.
For lunch I decided to go to a place I'd noticed last night. I was sure I could retrace my steps. Arles isn't that big. About 1/2 an hour later I stumbled across it. Arles might not be big but the streets curve any which way. When I got there the restaurant owner was explaining to an American couple that they don't open for Sunday lunch but she recommended somewhere else. I just followed the couple so I could blame the navigation errors on someone else.
I didn't like the place they went to but selected a restaurant nearby called La Pergula, which turned out to be an excellent choice. I had the menu du jour and for entree had a plate of local charcuterie with plenty of fresh bread and some pickles.
For main course I had the bull stew which must have been cooked with a strong red wine as the sauce was delicious. The meat was full of flavour but very tender. For dessert I thought about having the cheese plate, as I'd seen a tempting gelateria on my travels, but decided I could always have two desserts so I had the caramalised apple and pears with breton biscuits and a scoop of thyme ice cream. I finished with a coffee but didn't bother with the wafer as I would have exploded.
The restaurant was in a very odd building. The part I was in seemed to be an alleyway between two buildings that had been roofed over as there were rough stone walls on either side and flagstones on the ground. There were small rooms to either side of my passageway and at least two kitchens, as the waiter got the main courses from one place (a hatch in the side of my passageway) but would go to somewhere behind me to fetch the coffee and dessert. The dirty dishes were taken away to somewhere off one of the side rooms. A complete rabbit warren.
While I was having my lunch a young Japanese man came in with an elderly couple (his parents). They just marched in and Father used the loo, then Mother, then Father again and then they marched out again. About 10 minutes later the young man was back, looking around with a worried look on his face. He appeared to have misplaced his parents.
After my leisurely lunch I went to sit in the remains of the Roman theatre, where I must confess I just sat in the sun for a while digesting. Next stop was the church and cloister of St Trophime followed by a stop at the gelateria. However, they didn't have any flavours that tempted me so I settled for just ambling around the streets looking at all the amazing buildings. Imagine having this as your front door.
When I went out for dinner I had planned on just have a light meal - perhaps a galette. However, the first place I'm came across that looked tempting was an upmarket restaurant. Even though it was only 8pm - about the start of dinner time here - it was already full. This was either a good sign (it's popular) or else a bad sign (it is full of tourists). It turned out both things were true - lots of tourists but it's a popular restaurant because it is very good.
for entree I had what was described on the menu as a red pepper creme brulee. Fortunately it turned out to be a custard-like dish strongly flavoured with roasted red peppers and topped with a twist of fried chorizo and, oddly, a puck of puff pastry. For main I had duck risotto. In addition to chunks of duck, it had peas, pearl onions and plenty of cream and cheese. If asked, I would of said the meat was some form of poultry but I wouldn't have necessary guessed duck. Still it was tasty. For dessert I had the cafe gourmand as I didn't want to have to choose between the desserts on offer. With this dish you get an espresso coffee and mini serves of their desserts of the day. I had shot glasses of a rich, dense chocolate mousse topped with raspberry couli (delicious), another of creme fraiche (or else a very mild goat's cheese) topped with a salted caramel sauce (interesting) and another of fresh mango with crushed biscuits and cream (the mango wasn't very tasty - where had they got it from at this time of year?). The coffee, sadly, was horrid but that was the only sour note in the entire meal.
There were two Englishmen sitting at the table behind me. One was telling the other about a trip he'd taken to the US. He had used the Greyhound buses to get around and was saying how the bus drivers would drive for up to 4 hours at a time without a break! The storyteller was convinced they must take uppers or some such in order to maintain their concentration to drive for such a long period of time. I can only hope he doesn't visit Australia and try taking the bus from Melbourne to Sydney. He'll get a very nasty shock.
It didn't just rain overnight, there was thunder and lightening. It was still raining when I woke up at 7:30am. However, by the time I had finished getting up and having a leisurely breakfast it had stopped and it remained fine the rest of the day.
I opted for the buffet breakfast at the hotel as I wasn't sure if the weather would stay fine. It wasn't worth the money. I was the last person to come in and so they didn't bother replenishing anything, even though I was there at 8:30am and they serve breakfast until 10am. There were no glasses left for the fruit juice, no pain au chocolat just croissants and only some elderly scrambled eggs but no bacon. I won't bother with it tomorrow. A disappointment for what has otherwise been a very comfortable hotel.
After breakfast my first stop was the Cryptoportico. This is under the current town hall. When they were constructing the new town hall (just recently - about 200 years ago) they found the remains of the Roman forum in what is now their basement level. Below that was the basement of the Forum itself. Three sides of it are still there - two long sides and one end. It is basically just vaulted arches with the random junk that gets left behind when someone moves out - in this case chunks of broken marble statues which they would burn for the lime. Mostly it was just an open space, but one side had bricked in arches that merchants could use for storage. It was only dimly lit and I was the only person there so there was no sound except for my footsteps and the dripping of water in spots where all the rain from last night was seeping through the walls and roof. It was amazing but a bit creepy. You wouldn't want to be claustrophobic.
Just as I was leaving a bus load of German tourist showed up. I was so glad I turned up early. They would have completely spoilt the mood.
The next stop on my all things Roman tour was the remains of the Baths of Constantine. About 1/3 of these have been uncovered. The rest was either cannibalised for bricks and marble or incorporated into other buildings. When it was rediscovered in the 16th century they first thought it must have been a palace because what remained was so imposing. Nope, it was just the public baths. Roman construction is certainly built to last. Or perhaps that is confirmation bias, since anything that wasn't sturdily built will have long since disintegrated. Below is a cat have a wash at the baths. It wouldn't let me pat it.
Final stop before lunch was the amphitheatre. Again, a lot had been demolished but it is still a very impressive structure. They've also restored a lot of it and hold events there. Imagine going to a concert at that stadium? You could clamber around most of it, not like the Colosseum in Rome. However, unlike the one in Rome, you couldn't go to the parts underground.
For lunch I decided to go to a place I'd noticed last night. I was sure I could retrace my steps. Arles isn't that big. About 1/2 an hour later I stumbled across it. Arles might not be big but the streets curve any which way. When I got there the restaurant owner was explaining to an American couple that they don't open for Sunday lunch but she recommended somewhere else. I just followed the couple so I could blame the navigation errors on someone else.
I didn't like the place they went to but selected a restaurant nearby called La Pergula, which turned out to be an excellent choice. I had the menu du jour and for entree had a plate of local charcuterie with plenty of fresh bread and some pickles.
For main course I had the bull stew which must have been cooked with a strong red wine as the sauce was delicious. The meat was full of flavour but very tender. For dessert I thought about having the cheese plate, as I'd seen a tempting gelateria on my travels, but decided I could always have two desserts so I had the caramalised apple and pears with breton biscuits and a scoop of thyme ice cream. I finished with a coffee but didn't bother with the wafer as I would have exploded.
The restaurant was in a very odd building. The part I was in seemed to be an alleyway between two buildings that had been roofed over as there were rough stone walls on either side and flagstones on the ground. There were small rooms to either side of my passageway and at least two kitchens, as the waiter got the main courses from one place (a hatch in the side of my passageway) but would go to somewhere behind me to fetch the coffee and dessert. The dirty dishes were taken away to somewhere off one of the side rooms. A complete rabbit warren.
While I was having my lunch a young Japanese man came in with an elderly couple (his parents). They just marched in and Father used the loo, then Mother, then Father again and then they marched out again. About 10 minutes later the young man was back, looking around with a worried look on his face. He appeared to have misplaced his parents.
After my leisurely lunch I went to sit in the remains of the Roman theatre, where I must confess I just sat in the sun for a while digesting. Next stop was the church and cloister of St Trophime followed by a stop at the gelateria. However, they didn't have any flavours that tempted me so I settled for just ambling around the streets looking at all the amazing buildings. Imagine having this as your front door.
When I went out for dinner I had planned on just have a light meal - perhaps a galette. However, the first place I'm came across that looked tempting was an upmarket restaurant. Even though it was only 8pm - about the start of dinner time here - it was already full. This was either a good sign (it's popular) or else a bad sign (it is full of tourists). It turned out both things were true - lots of tourists but it's a popular restaurant because it is very good.
for entree I had what was described on the menu as a red pepper creme brulee. Fortunately it turned out to be a custard-like dish strongly flavoured with roasted red peppers and topped with a twist of fried chorizo and, oddly, a puck of puff pastry. For main I had duck risotto. In addition to chunks of duck, it had peas, pearl onions and plenty of cream and cheese. If asked, I would of said the meat was some form of poultry but I wouldn't have necessary guessed duck. Still it was tasty. For dessert I had the cafe gourmand as I didn't want to have to choose between the desserts on offer. With this dish you get an espresso coffee and mini serves of their desserts of the day. I had shot glasses of a rich, dense chocolate mousse topped with raspberry couli (delicious), another of creme fraiche (or else a very mild goat's cheese) topped with a salted caramel sauce (interesting) and another of fresh mango with crushed biscuits and cream (the mango wasn't very tasty - where had they got it from at this time of year?). The coffee, sadly, was horrid but that was the only sour note in the entire meal.
There were two Englishmen sitting at the table behind me. One was telling the other about a trip he'd taken to the US. He had used the Greyhound buses to get around and was saying how the bus drivers would drive for up to 4 hours at a time without a break! The storyteller was convinced they must take uppers or some such in order to maintain their concentration to drive for such a long period of time. I can only hope he doesn't visit Australia and try taking the bus from Melbourne to Sydney. He'll get a very nasty shock.
Saturday, 6 October 2018
Day 13 - Marseille to Arles
Distance Walked: at least 3km, Alcohol Consumed: 2 glasses rose
After a leisurely breakfast, I packed (why does the same amount of stuff take up more space each time you pack?) and headed for the railway station. The area around the station must be a mainly Muslim area. All the people in the street and in the cafes were men - both as customers and shop keepers. I saw only a handful of women and over 100 men. It was very odd.
I managed to catch the correct train to the correct railway station this time. I'm becoming acclimatised or perhaps assimilated. The train had old-fashioned comparments. Originally I had one to myself, but at the last minute a man joined me and he didn't say "Bonjour"! I was shocked at his rudeness.
The main railway station here is about all of 1km from the centre of the old part of Arles. Arles was originally a Roman settlement and still has a lot of Roman ruins. It also has traces of the city walls around the old town centre. My hotel, the Hotel du Forum, is on the site of the original Roman forum so it is smack bang in the centre of the original Roman town. Here is the view from my window. Arles is a lovely city. The centre of the city, that is what was inside the old walls, is all pedestrianised. At least it was today. Hopefully that will be the case too tomorrow, given that it is Sunday.
Even though I arrived around midday my room was ready, which is always pleasing. A chambermaid took my bag up to my room for me. At first I thought this was a unnecessary but it wasn't. This hotel appears to be made up of several buildings knocked together. There are corridors in unexpected places and half flights of steps going up and down. Also the room number is eccentric. Instead of all the rooms on, say, the second floor starting with a 2, they seem to have been numbered as they came into service. On my floor (the 2nd floor) there are rooms 11 to 17, 19 to 24 and 41 to 45 except for any room number ending in a 3. The marble staircase has dips worn in the middle from all the traffic over time, which gives you an idea of how old it must be.
After a quick wash and I headed out to the square outside my hotel for lunch. I ate at the Bistro Arlesian as it had an interesting sounding set menu for lunch. I started with foie gras with house made fig jam and a salad. Very tasty. For main I had grilled duck breast which came with a side of a vegetable gratin (tasty) and, for some odd reason, chips aka frites. The duck breast had been cooked over charcoal from the taste and was very good, if a bit tough. For dessert I had panna cotta - not bad if a touch more gelatine than I would have used. I finished with a coffee. I checked the tripadvisor reviews for this place afterwards and I have to say I'm surprised. I found the service to be perfectly civil and the food came promptly and was hot.
You may have noticed I had rose wine today. The wine shop owner in Aix-en-Provence yesterday told us all about how rose wine was the speciality of this region and why we should be drinking it. They make it so it is light and crisp like a white wine, but more like a red wine in taste. I'm a convert, at least when the weather is warm. The restaurant I had lunch at had 3 or 4 wines by the glass for each type (red, rose or white) and listed the grape varieties and recommended food pairings for each. So sensible, given that most people (tourists certainly) have no idea what the wine from a given region, let alone vineyard, will taste like.
After lunch I went for a visit to the sites that are outside the city walls. Rain is predicted for tomorrow - although I think that might be overnight and just early in the morning. In any case, I thought I would "do" the more distant sites first.
My first stop was the alyscamp - which is the remains of a Roman necropolis, which lined one of the roads into the city, but is outside the walls. Next stop was the local museum. Arles in on the Rhone and about 10 years back they discovered an old Roman river boat that had sunk in the river here, complete with all its cargo. They've raised the ship and put it and the cargo on display, along with many other Roman artifacts from around here. It was a fabulous museum, with models of all the main sites - including the forum, the amphitheatre, the theatre and the baths of Constantine. They also had a model of the discovery of the river boat, complete with tiny models of random rubbish people had thrown in the river, such as an old tyre.
In addition to the permanent exhibits they also had a display on the recovery of a fabulous mosaic floor from, I think, a Roman villa somewhere in the Middle East. The permanent exhibits had at least some signage in English but this one was all in French so I'm a little vague on what and where. The mosaic was a fabulous map of islands around the Mediterrean. I think they all had something to do with Venus but I'm not sure. I wish there had been more info in English or else my French was better. It was fascinating as it was, but I know I missed a lot.
After visting the museum (which sadly had a very disappointing shop), I walked back into the old city along the river bank. The buildings here are a mix of all ages up to about 200-300 years ago, i.e. nothing modern. There are odd combinations of the very old and just the somewhat old like this building. I'm sure those two boxy shapes on either side of the balcony are towers from the original walls. I'd love to look inside that house, or better yet, have the chance to live there.
For dinner I ambled around the streets near my hotel before settling on a tiny bistro called La Charcuterie. No prizes for guessing what they specialised in. I chose to sit at an outside table so I could watch the world go by. This was a mistake. I had forgotten that Arles in on a river and close to the Camargue - which is a swamp. The local mosquitos feasted on me. I had to wear my jacket, even though it was too warm, to keep them off my arms and the back of my neck. After about an hour they either found someone else who was tastier or they were full because they left me alone.
When I wasn't providing dinner for the locals, I was dining well myself. For entree I had a salad of mesclun leaves which was topped with fried pieces of bacon (lardons) and dressed with walnut oil. For main I chose caillettes which the waiter had explained to me were pig something something with pig something else plus swiss chard and wrapped in caul fat, served with a tomato and basil sauce. Google translate claimed the English for caillette is abomasum! It turned out to be a large meatball made from pork mince, pork liver and pig's blood as well as herbs and spices and swiss chard. Every family has its own secret recipe. It tasted very good, quite rich and a bit like haggis. Dessert was a piece of chocolate cake, which was dull, but the 1cm thick layer of ganache on top made up for the cake part.
After a leisurely breakfast, I packed (why does the same amount of stuff take up more space each time you pack?) and headed for the railway station. The area around the station must be a mainly Muslim area. All the people in the street and in the cafes were men - both as customers and shop keepers. I saw only a handful of women and over 100 men. It was very odd.
I managed to catch the correct train to the correct railway station this time. I'm becoming acclimatised or perhaps assimilated. The train had old-fashioned comparments. Originally I had one to myself, but at the last minute a man joined me and he didn't say "Bonjour"! I was shocked at his rudeness.
The main railway station here is about all of 1km from the centre of the old part of Arles. Arles was originally a Roman settlement and still has a lot of Roman ruins. It also has traces of the city walls around the old town centre. My hotel, the Hotel du Forum, is on the site of the original Roman forum so it is smack bang in the centre of the original Roman town. Here is the view from my window. Arles is a lovely city. The centre of the city, that is what was inside the old walls, is all pedestrianised. At least it was today. Hopefully that will be the case too tomorrow, given that it is Sunday.
Even though I arrived around midday my room was ready, which is always pleasing. A chambermaid took my bag up to my room for me. At first I thought this was a unnecessary but it wasn't. This hotel appears to be made up of several buildings knocked together. There are corridors in unexpected places and half flights of steps going up and down. Also the room number is eccentric. Instead of all the rooms on, say, the second floor starting with a 2, they seem to have been numbered as they came into service. On my floor (the 2nd floor) there are rooms 11 to 17, 19 to 24 and 41 to 45 except for any room number ending in a 3. The marble staircase has dips worn in the middle from all the traffic over time, which gives you an idea of how old it must be.
After a quick wash and I headed out to the square outside my hotel for lunch. I ate at the Bistro Arlesian as it had an interesting sounding set menu for lunch. I started with foie gras with house made fig jam and a salad. Very tasty. For main I had grilled duck breast which came with a side of a vegetable gratin (tasty) and, for some odd reason, chips aka frites. The duck breast had been cooked over charcoal from the taste and was very good, if a bit tough. For dessert I had panna cotta - not bad if a touch more gelatine than I would have used. I finished with a coffee. I checked the tripadvisor reviews for this place afterwards and I have to say I'm surprised. I found the service to be perfectly civil and the food came promptly and was hot.
You may have noticed I had rose wine today. The wine shop owner in Aix-en-Provence yesterday told us all about how rose wine was the speciality of this region and why we should be drinking it. They make it so it is light and crisp like a white wine, but more like a red wine in taste. I'm a convert, at least when the weather is warm. The restaurant I had lunch at had 3 or 4 wines by the glass for each type (red, rose or white) and listed the grape varieties and recommended food pairings for each. So sensible, given that most people (tourists certainly) have no idea what the wine from a given region, let alone vineyard, will taste like.
After lunch I went for a visit to the sites that are outside the city walls. Rain is predicted for tomorrow - although I think that might be overnight and just early in the morning. In any case, I thought I would "do" the more distant sites first.
My first stop was the alyscamp - which is the remains of a Roman necropolis, which lined one of the roads into the city, but is outside the walls. Next stop was the local museum. Arles in on the Rhone and about 10 years back they discovered an old Roman river boat that had sunk in the river here, complete with all its cargo. They've raised the ship and put it and the cargo on display, along with many other Roman artifacts from around here. It was a fabulous museum, with models of all the main sites - including the forum, the amphitheatre, the theatre and the baths of Constantine. They also had a model of the discovery of the river boat, complete with tiny models of random rubbish people had thrown in the river, such as an old tyre.
In addition to the permanent exhibits they also had a display on the recovery of a fabulous mosaic floor from, I think, a Roman villa somewhere in the Middle East. The permanent exhibits had at least some signage in English but this one was all in French so I'm a little vague on what and where. The mosaic was a fabulous map of islands around the Mediterrean. I think they all had something to do with Venus but I'm not sure. I wish there had been more info in English or else my French was better. It was fascinating as it was, but I know I missed a lot.
After visting the museum (which sadly had a very disappointing shop), I walked back into the old city along the river bank. The buildings here are a mix of all ages up to about 200-300 years ago, i.e. nothing modern. There are odd combinations of the very old and just the somewhat old like this building. I'm sure those two boxy shapes on either side of the balcony are towers from the original walls. I'd love to look inside that house, or better yet, have the chance to live there.
For dinner I ambled around the streets near my hotel before settling on a tiny bistro called La Charcuterie. No prizes for guessing what they specialised in. I chose to sit at an outside table so I could watch the world go by. This was a mistake. I had forgotten that Arles in on a river and close to the Camargue - which is a swamp. The local mosquitos feasted on me. I had to wear my jacket, even though it was too warm, to keep them off my arms and the back of my neck. After about an hour they either found someone else who was tastier or they were full because they left me alone.
When I wasn't providing dinner for the locals, I was dining well myself. For entree I had a salad of mesclun leaves which was topped with fried pieces of bacon (lardons) and dressed with walnut oil. For main I chose caillettes which the waiter had explained to me were pig something something with pig something else plus swiss chard and wrapped in caul fat, served with a tomato and basil sauce. Google translate claimed the English for caillette is abomasum! It turned out to be a large meatball made from pork mince, pork liver and pig's blood as well as herbs and spices and swiss chard. Every family has its own secret recipe. It tasted very good, quite rich and a bit like haggis. Dessert was a piece of chocolate cake, which was dull, but the 1cm thick layer of ganache on top made up for the cake part.
Friday, 5 October 2018
Day 12 - Aix-en-Provence
Distance Walked: some, Alchol Consumed: 2 glasses red wine, 1 glass rose wine
This morning I skipped breakfast altogether as I was headed to Aix-en-Provence for the day to do another food tour. I had to be there by 9:30am and the train trip takes about an hour, so I decided to leave early and have breakfast in a cafe in Aix. This was a good idea, as when I got to the train station here in Marseille I discovered I could take the fast TGV train to Aix. I decided to do that as it took only 15 minutes and cost less than the local, regional train. However, after doing that I discovered that the TGV railway station is way out of town and not the main station in the centre of Aix at all. I had to take a taxi to get into Aix itself, which took twice as long as the train trip and cost three times as much, so no time for breakfast.
This tour was a professional one, not like the one I did with Oriane. Oriane's was organised through a company called Guest in the City which is like Uber for tour guides. Any one can offer their services as a tour guide to do any sort of tour via their website and the website people just take a cut. There were four other people on my tour today - a Canadian couple and an English couple, so I let them do all the shopping and sampled with a clear conscience. The tour guide was originally from California but had settled in Aix with her (English) husband about 20 years ago. She was very good but her patter was more professional than Oriane's. While she was perfectly friendly, it was clearly her job and didn't feel like a day out with a friend. She was also very proud of how rich a city Aix was and how wealthy and smartly dressed the locals always were. Given we were all in t-shirts and jeans or shorts, I thought this perhaps wasn't the best thing to harp on about.
We started at a local patisserie where we had calissons (again). Next was the local food market where we were lectured on how important it is to the French to only eat food that is in season. The market stalls were operated by local farmers who come every day so the produce had all been picked that day, or at worst, the day before and was wonderfully fresh. We tried two varieties of local tomatoes and also figs, olives and muscat grapes. We then stopped at the charcuterie stall and had salami, coppa and ham - not all local this time, some was from Corsica. Next we went to a coffee shop where they roast their own beans (just like Grinders on Lygon Street - but I didn't mention this as I was supposed to be impressed). We had the option of coffee or the local hot chocolate. Jennifer, the guide, raved about the unique way the make the hot chocolate - by melting together chocolate and milk and then putting it in a churn so that it is silky smooth. In other words, it was exactly like a Brunetti hot chocolate - and very good it was too.
Next stop was another patisserie where we tried one of the local cakes - a sponge with a hazelnut cream topping - very yum. Then was the cheese shop - I had to restrain myself from making the obvious jokes ("Oh dear, the cat's just eaten it") as I wasn't sure who else would understand. We collected some cheese from there and then went onto our final stop which was a wine shop. We tried the local rose wine while eating our cheese (a comte which isn't from here at all but was very good).
After the tour I wandered into the old town and stopped at a bistro for lunch, again based on the friendliness of the waiter. This time it (mostly) paid off. As I was not particuarly hungry I just had the plat du jour, which was a lamb shank in a stew with potatoes, carrots, onions, mushrooms and the local wine. For dessert I had a cafe gourmand, which is an espresso coffee with a sample of their desserts. They went overkill on this, instead of one or two I had 5! I had an egg cup full of sweetened cream (too sweet), a small dish of rice pudding (too bland), a tiny chocolate muffin (too dry), a mini friand (ditto) and a mini calisson flavoured with mandarine (delicious).
I spent the rest of the day wandering around the old town (> 1000 years old) and the new town (an upstart of only 400 years of age) before wandering back to the correct train station and catching the correct sort of train back to Marseille. Tomorrow I'm off to Arles. I had planned to spend the morning here and then go in the late afternoon but I think I head there straight after breakfast. I'm sure the hotel in Arles will let me leave my suitcase with them, even though I'll arrive before it is time to check in.
I randomly chose a place for dinner, largely because it had a fixed priced menu that had a reasonable selection of dishes at a reasonable price. Most restaurants only offer that for lunch. It turned out to be a good choice. For entree I had the goat's cheese salad, which came with lettuce & tomato with a remoulade dressing as well as two pieces of tasty but not too goaty cheese on toast. It was very good. For main I had ordered what I thought was a piece of salmon with a foie gras sauce. What I was served was salmon in a cream sauce on tagliatelle. I started to eat it, guessing that the English translation had lost some of the detail. I had noticed this was the case for some of the other dishes. I was about three mouthfuls in when the waitress rushed up to say she had accidentally given me the wrong salmon special. I settled for what I had because it was good. My waitress was not having a good night. She tried to serve the couple at the table next to me the entrees that belonged to a couple a few tables over. She later gave someone else the wrong wine. I felt like leaving her a tip. Not because her service was good - it wasn't - but because she was rushed off her feet and clearly getting frazzled. For dessert I had the nougat ice cream - also good.
Now I'm done with Marseille. Off to see Roman ruins in Arles tomorrow - in the rain according to the weather forecast. Drat.
This morning I skipped breakfast altogether as I was headed to Aix-en-Provence for the day to do another food tour. I had to be there by 9:30am and the train trip takes about an hour, so I decided to leave early and have breakfast in a cafe in Aix. This was a good idea, as when I got to the train station here in Marseille I discovered I could take the fast TGV train to Aix. I decided to do that as it took only 15 minutes and cost less than the local, regional train. However, after doing that I discovered that the TGV railway station is way out of town and not the main station in the centre of Aix at all. I had to take a taxi to get into Aix itself, which took twice as long as the train trip and cost three times as much, so no time for breakfast.
This tour was a professional one, not like the one I did with Oriane. Oriane's was organised through a company called Guest in the City which is like Uber for tour guides. Any one can offer their services as a tour guide to do any sort of tour via their website and the website people just take a cut. There were four other people on my tour today - a Canadian couple and an English couple, so I let them do all the shopping and sampled with a clear conscience. The tour guide was originally from California but had settled in Aix with her (English) husband about 20 years ago. She was very good but her patter was more professional than Oriane's. While she was perfectly friendly, it was clearly her job and didn't feel like a day out with a friend. She was also very proud of how rich a city Aix was and how wealthy and smartly dressed the locals always were. Given we were all in t-shirts and jeans or shorts, I thought this perhaps wasn't the best thing to harp on about.
We started at a local patisserie where we had calissons (again). Next was the local food market where we were lectured on how important it is to the French to only eat food that is in season. The market stalls were operated by local farmers who come every day so the produce had all been picked that day, or at worst, the day before and was wonderfully fresh. We tried two varieties of local tomatoes and also figs, olives and muscat grapes. We then stopped at the charcuterie stall and had salami, coppa and ham - not all local this time, some was from Corsica. Next we went to a coffee shop where they roast their own beans (just like Grinders on Lygon Street - but I didn't mention this as I was supposed to be impressed). We had the option of coffee or the local hot chocolate. Jennifer, the guide, raved about the unique way the make the hot chocolate - by melting together chocolate and milk and then putting it in a churn so that it is silky smooth. In other words, it was exactly like a Brunetti hot chocolate - and very good it was too.
Next stop was another patisserie where we tried one of the local cakes - a sponge with a hazelnut cream topping - very yum. Then was the cheese shop - I had to restrain myself from making the obvious jokes ("Oh dear, the cat's just eaten it") as I wasn't sure who else would understand. We collected some cheese from there and then went onto our final stop which was a wine shop. We tried the local rose wine while eating our cheese (a comte which isn't from here at all but was very good).
After the tour I wandered into the old town and stopped at a bistro for lunch, again based on the friendliness of the waiter. This time it (mostly) paid off. As I was not particuarly hungry I just had the plat du jour, which was a lamb shank in a stew with potatoes, carrots, onions, mushrooms and the local wine. For dessert I had a cafe gourmand, which is an espresso coffee with a sample of their desserts. They went overkill on this, instead of one or two I had 5! I had an egg cup full of sweetened cream (too sweet), a small dish of rice pudding (too bland), a tiny chocolate muffin (too dry), a mini friand (ditto) and a mini calisson flavoured with mandarine (delicious).
I spent the rest of the day wandering around the old town (> 1000 years old) and the new town (an upstart of only 400 years of age) before wandering back to the correct train station and catching the correct sort of train back to Marseille. Tomorrow I'm off to Arles. I had planned to spend the morning here and then go in the late afternoon but I think I head there straight after breakfast. I'm sure the hotel in Arles will let me leave my suitcase with them, even though I'll arrive before it is time to check in.
I randomly chose a place for dinner, largely because it had a fixed priced menu that had a reasonable selection of dishes at a reasonable price. Most restaurants only offer that for lunch. It turned out to be a good choice. For entree I had the goat's cheese salad, which came with lettuce & tomato with a remoulade dressing as well as two pieces of tasty but not too goaty cheese on toast. It was very good. For main I had ordered what I thought was a piece of salmon with a foie gras sauce. What I was served was salmon in a cream sauce on tagliatelle. I started to eat it, guessing that the English translation had lost some of the detail. I had noticed this was the case for some of the other dishes. I was about three mouthfuls in when the waitress rushed up to say she had accidentally given me the wrong salmon special. I settled for what I had because it was good. My waitress was not having a good night. She tried to serve the couple at the table next to me the entrees that belonged to a couple a few tables over. She later gave someone else the wrong wine. I felt like leaving her a tip. Not because her service was good - it wasn't - but because she was rushed off her feet and clearly getting frazzled. For dessert I had the nougat ice cream - also good.
Now I'm done with Marseille. Off to see Roman ruins in Arles tomorrow - in the rain according to the weather forecast. Drat.
Day 11 - Marseille
Distance Walked: no idea, Alcohol Consumed: 2 glasses pastis, 1 glass red wine
My hotel here offers the most lavish breakfast made available to me this holiday. There is scrambled eggs and bacon, pastries, bread, yoghurt and fruit. However, as I was doing my food tour this morning I just (!) had a croissant with jam and a huge cup of cafe au lait.
I had to meet my guide, Oriane, in a square near the old port, which I had thought was a terrible place to meet as it wasn't a single place. However, we were the only people loitering in the square so it as easy for us to find each other. The tour turned out to be excellent. She was friendly, knowledgeable, passionate about both Marseille (she's a local) and its food and also easy to talk to. It was like wandering around town with a friend, exploring all the cool places to go. She had carefully picked all the stops and was on good terms with all the shopkeepers. The only drawback of having a personalized tour was I felt obliged to buy something at most of the stops, since I was getting free samples.
The first stop was a sweet shop that sold calissons, which are a famous delicacy of the region - although I'd never heard of them. They are made from ground almonds and are flavoured with fruit syrups. The traditional one is flavoured with some sort of citrus fruit, but you can gets ones with all sorts of flavours including pistachio, chocolate and, since it is Provence, lavendar. I got to try several and therefore had to buy a selection. Next stop was an incredible chocolate shop that makes chocolate from just cocoa, sugar and olive oil, no milk or butter. I thought the combination would be disgusting but it was delicious. Again, after much sampling, I bought some which may or may not make it home with me. They ship internationally in any case.
Next we stopped at a soap shop. Soaps made with olive oil are a big product here too. The owner doesn't like the English, but is OK with Australians. However, I had to promise to bring him a kangaroo next time I visited. I bought samples from there too, which helped soften his mood.
Next stop was for ice cream, but not at the factory, just a shop that sold it so I could just eat it with a clear conscience. Next was a bakery for the local biscuit - the navette. It is quite dry as it is designed to be eaten after a meal with either coffee or sweet wine, so I just ate my sample and didn't feel any complusion to buy any more. Next we went to a bar and had a glass of an upmarket pastis while nibbling on a plate of olives. After that we went to the shop where that particular variety is sold and sampled their even more upmarket version - it is dyed blue. The shopkeeper there is grumpy, which is why we'd gone to the bar first, so both Oriane and I felt it was OK not to buy anything.
The final stop was a trendy bar to try some panisse, which is a fritter made from chickpeas, which is forgetable. In between all this we wandered around the Le Panier district, which is the first part of Marseille to be settled, and Oriane gave me her take on the local history. A very pleasant morning that made me like Marseille a lot better.
After the tour was done I randomly chose a bistro in Le Panier for lunch based on the friendliness of its waiter. Again, this was a mistake. I had tarte provencal to start with. The toppings - essentially all the things you would get in ratatouille were tasty - but the pastry base was soggy. Main was tagliatelle with pesto, which managed to be dull. How something stuffed full of parmesan, basil, not to mention, garlic can be dull boggles me, but they did it. I finished with a quite decent coffee, so it wasn't all bad.
After lunch I visited the Museum of the Roman Docks. This is actually an old Roman warehouse that has been partially excavated. There are about a dozen huge amphora embedded in the ground and displays all around about the docks during Roman times. It is a tiny museum that doesn't get a lot of visitors. I'm afraid I woke up the attendent when I showed up, but she was so pleased to have someone interested in her museum.
Next stop was the museum of the history of Marseille. This was not so friendly a place. It is at the back of a shopping centre and it is not obvious how to get in. I walked through the shopping centre twice before circumnavigating the entire place before I found the entry tucked away down a lane. It was an interesting museum on the history of Marseille from neolithic times to the present. There has been a settlement here for well over 2500 years, a fact of which they are very proud. Most of the signs were in French, but some were in English. They also had a free audio guide that described the main items and the theme of each room. Unfortunately, the displays had been moved around since the audio was recorded and "look to your right and you will see xyz" didn't always make sense.
Still, I was enjoying the visit. However, 1/2 an hour before closing time I was hustled off the floor I was on and on to the next one. Fifteen minutes before closing I was hustle out of there too. They clearly wanted to shut the doors on the dot of closing time and wanted the place clean and tidy and empty of pesky visitors before then. I went back to not enjoying Marseille so much after that.
For dinner I decided I wanted comfort food, so I stopped at the first place I came to that served pizza cooked in a wood fire. It was delicious, if an enormous serve. I then wandered back to my hotel. I don't like the area I'm staying in. It is a pedestrianised area full of shops such as shoe shops and clothes shops and the like, so at night there is no one around as everything is shut. When I say there is no-one that is not exactly correct. There are random clots of teenagers and young men loitering in doorways. I don't like it.
My hotel here offers the most lavish breakfast made available to me this holiday. There is scrambled eggs and bacon, pastries, bread, yoghurt and fruit. However, as I was doing my food tour this morning I just (!) had a croissant with jam and a huge cup of cafe au lait.
I had to meet my guide, Oriane, in a square near the old port, which I had thought was a terrible place to meet as it wasn't a single place. However, we were the only people loitering in the square so it as easy for us to find each other. The tour turned out to be excellent. She was friendly, knowledgeable, passionate about both Marseille (she's a local) and its food and also easy to talk to. It was like wandering around town with a friend, exploring all the cool places to go. She had carefully picked all the stops and was on good terms with all the shopkeepers. The only drawback of having a personalized tour was I felt obliged to buy something at most of the stops, since I was getting free samples.
The first stop was a sweet shop that sold calissons, which are a famous delicacy of the region - although I'd never heard of them. They are made from ground almonds and are flavoured with fruit syrups. The traditional one is flavoured with some sort of citrus fruit, but you can gets ones with all sorts of flavours including pistachio, chocolate and, since it is Provence, lavendar. I got to try several and therefore had to buy a selection. Next stop was an incredible chocolate shop that makes chocolate from just cocoa, sugar and olive oil, no milk or butter. I thought the combination would be disgusting but it was delicious. Again, after much sampling, I bought some which may or may not make it home with me. They ship internationally in any case.
Next we stopped at a soap shop. Soaps made with olive oil are a big product here too. The owner doesn't like the English, but is OK with Australians. However, I had to promise to bring him a kangaroo next time I visited. I bought samples from there too, which helped soften his mood.
Next stop was for ice cream, but not at the factory, just a shop that sold it so I could just eat it with a clear conscience. Next was a bakery for the local biscuit - the navette. It is quite dry as it is designed to be eaten after a meal with either coffee or sweet wine, so I just ate my sample and didn't feel any complusion to buy any more. Next we went to a bar and had a glass of an upmarket pastis while nibbling on a plate of olives. After that we went to the shop where that particular variety is sold and sampled their even more upmarket version - it is dyed blue. The shopkeeper there is grumpy, which is why we'd gone to the bar first, so both Oriane and I felt it was OK not to buy anything.
The final stop was a trendy bar to try some panisse, which is a fritter made from chickpeas, which is forgetable. In between all this we wandered around the Le Panier district, which is the first part of Marseille to be settled, and Oriane gave me her take on the local history. A very pleasant morning that made me like Marseille a lot better.
After the tour was done I randomly chose a bistro in Le Panier for lunch based on the friendliness of its waiter. Again, this was a mistake. I had tarte provencal to start with. The toppings - essentially all the things you would get in ratatouille were tasty - but the pastry base was soggy. Main was tagliatelle with pesto, which managed to be dull. How something stuffed full of parmesan, basil, not to mention, garlic can be dull boggles me, but they did it. I finished with a quite decent coffee, so it wasn't all bad.
After lunch I visited the Museum of the Roman Docks. This is actually an old Roman warehouse that has been partially excavated. There are about a dozen huge amphora embedded in the ground and displays all around about the docks during Roman times. It is a tiny museum that doesn't get a lot of visitors. I'm afraid I woke up the attendent when I showed up, but she was so pleased to have someone interested in her museum.
Next stop was the museum of the history of Marseille. This was not so friendly a place. It is at the back of a shopping centre and it is not obvious how to get in. I walked through the shopping centre twice before circumnavigating the entire place before I found the entry tucked away down a lane. It was an interesting museum on the history of Marseille from neolithic times to the present. There has been a settlement here for well over 2500 years, a fact of which they are very proud. Most of the signs were in French, but some were in English. They also had a free audio guide that described the main items and the theme of each room. Unfortunately, the displays had been moved around since the audio was recorded and "look to your right and you will see xyz" didn't always make sense.
Still, I was enjoying the visit. However, 1/2 an hour before closing time I was hustled off the floor I was on and on to the next one. Fifteen minutes before closing I was hustle out of there too. They clearly wanted to shut the doors on the dot of closing time and wanted the place clean and tidy and empty of pesky visitors before then. I went back to not enjoying Marseille so much after that.
For dinner I decided I wanted comfort food, so I stopped at the first place I came to that served pizza cooked in a wood fire. It was delicious, if an enormous serve. I then wandered back to my hotel. I don't like the area I'm staying in. It is a pedestrianised area full of shops such as shoe shops and clothes shops and the like, so at night there is no one around as everything is shut. When I say there is no-one that is not exactly correct. There are random clots of teenagers and young men loitering in doorways. I don't like it.
Wednesday, 3 October 2018
Day 10 - Ajaccio to Marseille
Alcohol Consumed: 2 glasses red wine, Gelati: 1 scoop chestnut cream
Today I spent the morning in Ajaccio before my afternoon flight to Marseille. Breakfast was an odd experience. I had been so used to just a half dozen or so people but my hotel is Ajaccio was full and the breakfast room was crowded. I snaffled the last free table by the simple technique of leaving my Kindle on it. This severely annoyed a couple who had considered it theirs but had stopped to get food & drink before sitting down. Luckily for my karma, another table became free as they were looking around for somewhere else to sit. All my breakfasts on the hike have scarred me. Even though I had the option of salami & cheese to go with my bread, I opted for butter and jam. Going home to muesli and porridge is going to be a startling experience.
After checking out I did the tacky tourist thing of taking the Petit Train tourist "bus" around Ajaccio and the surrounding area. It is a pretend train pulled by a tractor (or perhaps a small truck) with railway "cars" behind it that drives around Ajaccio. Unlike your standard tourist bus it is (just about) small enough to go down the narrow streets in the Old Town area. I'd wandered around Old Town myself but I hadn't had a chance to get out to some of the more outlying areas, so this was a convenient option. Plus it involved no walking.
A cruise ship had docked earlier that day and the train was almost full. Those cruise ships are monstrous. I counted 11 passenger decks. They are like small cities. I'm sure their population is more than that of Ajaccio. I got the last empty seat on the train. An English couple were very annoyed to have to share their seat for three with a third person. My heart bled for them.
One of the main stops of the train was a square with a monument to Napoleon. It is obvious that the Corsicans should be proud of Napoleon, when you stop to think about it. After all he came from their small island, which I'm sure mainland France considers to be somewhat backward, if not barbaric. However, all the books I've read about that period are from the British point of view, where he is the bad guy. It causes me a certain amount of mental whiplash to see statues in his honour everywhere.
The "train" trip took up the morning so I just did some light shopping for souvenirs. I wasn't very hungry since I'd done basically nothing so I then had a light lunch of a galette stuffed with bacon, goat's cheese and creme fraiche. For dessert I had a cafe gourmand which turned out to be an espresso with a small serve of tiramisu (not as good as mine) and a tiny apricot tart. A very pleasant meal.
The flight to Marseille was very short - about 50 minutes flying time, so all we got was a small drink that we had to drink quickly. The poor flight attendents were basically pushing the trolley uphill up the aisle to serve us as we were still climbing, then snatching the cups out of our hands while trying to stop the trolley rolling downhill down the aisle as we were coming in to land.
At Marseille airport, while I was waiting for my bag, I stopped at the tourist information centre to ask for a map and information on how to get to the centre of town - in French. My accent must have improved somewhat as we conducted the entire conversation in French. Up until now most people have immediately lapsed into English when they hear me mangle their language. Mind you, when I say conversation, my side was limited to very short sentences and even just the occasional phrase. However, I did understand all that I was told - at least I think I did. I managed to find the correct place to catch the airport bus and it took me where I expected to go, so I think I got it right.
I can't say I'm loving Marseille. Not just Ajaccio, but all of Corsica is lovely. I could live there. Marseille is crowded, dirty and there is grafitti everywhere. It just all feels a little seedy.
For dinner I headed out to a place the hotel recommends but I got there at 7:40pm and they don't open until 8pm. I wandered about for a bit and came to a square (actually a rectangle) which was almost wall to wall cafes and bistros. I picked one at random, largely because the waiter was friendly and chatted with me. All the others ignored me. It was a bad reason for choosing a restaurant. I had the plat du jour which turned out to be an entire fish which had been baked in the oven with lemon. It had a lot of bones and not a lot of taste. It came with a salad - which was just lettuce and tomato - no dressing, some French fries - which came from a packet, and the only saving grace, a serve of ratatouille which was clearly made in house and was very tasty. For dessert I had tarte tatin, which was clearly also made in-house, and was not bad at all - although not as good as mine.
Tomorrow I have my own personal 3 hour food tour of the old port area. I'm all out of practice talking to other human beings. It will be an experience - hopefully an enjoyable one.
Today I spent the morning in Ajaccio before my afternoon flight to Marseille. Breakfast was an odd experience. I had been so used to just a half dozen or so people but my hotel is Ajaccio was full and the breakfast room was crowded. I snaffled the last free table by the simple technique of leaving my Kindle on it. This severely annoyed a couple who had considered it theirs but had stopped to get food & drink before sitting down. Luckily for my karma, another table became free as they were looking around for somewhere else to sit. All my breakfasts on the hike have scarred me. Even though I had the option of salami & cheese to go with my bread, I opted for butter and jam. Going home to muesli and porridge is going to be a startling experience.
After checking out I did the tacky tourist thing of taking the Petit Train tourist "bus" around Ajaccio and the surrounding area. It is a pretend train pulled by a tractor (or perhaps a small truck) with railway "cars" behind it that drives around Ajaccio. Unlike your standard tourist bus it is (just about) small enough to go down the narrow streets in the Old Town area. I'd wandered around Old Town myself but I hadn't had a chance to get out to some of the more outlying areas, so this was a convenient option. Plus it involved no walking.
A cruise ship had docked earlier that day and the train was almost full. Those cruise ships are monstrous. I counted 11 passenger decks. They are like small cities. I'm sure their population is more than that of Ajaccio. I got the last empty seat on the train. An English couple were very annoyed to have to share their seat for three with a third person. My heart bled for them.
One of the main stops of the train was a square with a monument to Napoleon. It is obvious that the Corsicans should be proud of Napoleon, when you stop to think about it. After all he came from their small island, which I'm sure mainland France considers to be somewhat backward, if not barbaric. However, all the books I've read about that period are from the British point of view, where he is the bad guy. It causes me a certain amount of mental whiplash to see statues in his honour everywhere.
The "train" trip took up the morning so I just did some light shopping for souvenirs. I wasn't very hungry since I'd done basically nothing so I then had a light lunch of a galette stuffed with bacon, goat's cheese and creme fraiche. For dessert I had a cafe gourmand which turned out to be an espresso with a small serve of tiramisu (not as good as mine) and a tiny apricot tart. A very pleasant meal.
The flight to Marseille was very short - about 50 minutes flying time, so all we got was a small drink that we had to drink quickly. The poor flight attendents were basically pushing the trolley uphill up the aisle to serve us as we were still climbing, then snatching the cups out of our hands while trying to stop the trolley rolling downhill down the aisle as we were coming in to land.
At Marseille airport, while I was waiting for my bag, I stopped at the tourist information centre to ask for a map and information on how to get to the centre of town - in French. My accent must have improved somewhat as we conducted the entire conversation in French. Up until now most people have immediately lapsed into English when they hear me mangle their language. Mind you, when I say conversation, my side was limited to very short sentences and even just the occasional phrase. However, I did understand all that I was told - at least I think I did. I managed to find the correct place to catch the airport bus and it took me where I expected to go, so I think I got it right.
I can't say I'm loving Marseille. Not just Ajaccio, but all of Corsica is lovely. I could live there. Marseille is crowded, dirty and there is grafitti everywhere. It just all feels a little seedy.
For dinner I headed out to a place the hotel recommends but I got there at 7:40pm and they don't open until 8pm. I wandered about for a bit and came to a square (actually a rectangle) which was almost wall to wall cafes and bistros. I picked one at random, largely because the waiter was friendly and chatted with me. All the others ignored me. It was a bad reason for choosing a restaurant. I had the plat du jour which turned out to be an entire fish which had been baked in the oven with lemon. It had a lot of bones and not a lot of taste. It came with a salad - which was just lettuce and tomato - no dressing, some French fries - which came from a packet, and the only saving grace, a serve of ratatouille which was clearly made in house and was very tasty. For dessert I had tarte tatin, which was clearly also made in-house, and was not bad at all - although not as good as mine.
Tomorrow I have my own personal 3 hour food tour of the old port area. I'm all out of practice talking to other human beings. It will be an experience - hopefully an enjoyable one.
Tuesday, 2 October 2018
Day 9 - Bisinao to Porticcio
Distance walked: 17km, Time Taken: 5 1/2 hours, Ascents: 589m, Descents: 1226m, Alcohol Consumed: 1 glass red wine
Walking notes stats
Distance: 17km, Time: 5 hours, Ascents: 320m, Descents: 950m
It had rained again overnight, but once again the ground was just damp not muddy or slippery. Both couples were headed off in the opposite direction today. I'm the one going in reverse. The Belgians were just off to Coti-Chiavari but the young French couple were aiming for Porto-Pollo. They are carrying all their gear with them, not using a luggage service like me. A pleasant couple but clearly totally insane.
Breakfast was yesterdays leftover, stale bread - not toasted in any way, plus lukewarm coffee and cold milk plus a selection of homemade jams - which were delicious. If only there had been more bread to spread it on. There was no option to buy any supplies for lunch so it was a good thing I had that stash of muesli bars as I didn't pass through any villages on the way.
The route markings on this section of the trail were actually quite good, provided you were walking it in the regular direction - from Porticcio to Bisiano. They were distinctly sparse if you were trying to head the other way. For example, at one cross-roads there was a splash of orange paint on the track I walked down (clearly marking which turn to take if you were going uphill). However, there was nothing to indicate with of the other three paths lead to Porticcio. I tried eat of them in turn, going 100 or so metres down each way looking for splashes of orange paint. It was the third, least obvious track that was the correct one. I was in the middle of a forest and could smell wood smoke so I was getting distinctly worried. It turned out to be a farmer with an (probably illegal) incinerator.
At another point, I had to walk down a road for 2.5km and then take a track leading off. The route notes neglected to say if the track turned off on the left or the right. In any case, Agnes often gets her left and right confused, which isn't helpful as I can do that all by myself without help. In any case, I ignored what appeared to be someone's driveway and kept marching on down the road. I ended up going about 1 to 1.5km too far and had to back track. It was someone's driveway, but the track turned off it about 10m along, with a sign that wasn't visible from the road but clearly pointed in the right direction to take if you were headed to Bisinao. Grr.
At one point in the forest I passed what I would have sworn was a natural pile of rock, but according to the sign was (to my best translation) the foundations of a signal tower. Apparently there had also been 2 or 3 houses on this spot plus, at a later date, a church. Although, that might have been in the tower. There was no obvious signs of habitation. It just goes to show how quickly and thoroughly the forests around here take over again. Apparently, there were a lot of small villages and settlements in all these hills I've been walking through.
I finally made it to Porticcio with 15 minutes to spare to pick up my suitcase from a hotel here and then buy my ferry ticket to Ajaccio. Turned out I needed have rushed as I'd misread the timetable 14:45 was when the ferry left Ajaccio. The return trip wasn't until 15:15 so I had time for a gelati and a relaxing sit in a beachside cafe. Below is my prize for reaching the end, without getting completely lost or slipping and falling. It contains scoops of melon, passionfruit and raspberry sorbet and is topped with passionfruit syrup and a silly umbrella. I deserved it.
The ferry actually turned out to be a large-ish catamaran. It was quite windy so two sailors had to help everyone get on board as it bounced up and down and side to side. They didn't bother with anything as silly as a gangplank. You had to just step up from the jetty onto the boat, with one sailor on the jetty pushing from behind and the other, on board, grabbing your hand. No one fell in.
Dinner was a disappointment. I've had a hankering for zucchini flowers stuffed with goat's cheese and then deed fried, so I went in search of a place that served them. I came across a place called L'Auberge Ajacciene which had beignets de courgettes (which sounded right) on their Corsican set menu. Turns out, as I should have remembered, that it is the wrong time of year for zuchinni flowers so I just got zuchinni fritters. They were crisp and tasty but totally lacking in goat's cheese, which would have made them perfect. Main course was a tartare of veal. It was heavily flavoured with dill so was very tasty. However, it was cut into larger chunks that I like and was a bit chewy as a result. It came with roast potatoes as a side dish. Potatoes seem to be the only vegetable here. For dessert they let me have the chestnut cream rather than the fiadone that was on the set menu. It was a cream of chestnuts on top of crushed biscuits. While it tasted strongly of chestnusts, which I really like, it was also sickeningly sweet.
My final track and elevation charts. Just eating and drinking and touristing from here on in.
Walking notes stats
Distance: 17km, Time: 5 hours, Ascents: 320m, Descents: 950m
It had rained again overnight, but once again the ground was just damp not muddy or slippery. Both couples were headed off in the opposite direction today. I'm the one going in reverse. The Belgians were just off to Coti-Chiavari but the young French couple were aiming for Porto-Pollo. They are carrying all their gear with them, not using a luggage service like me. A pleasant couple but clearly totally insane.
Breakfast was yesterdays leftover, stale bread - not toasted in any way, plus lukewarm coffee and cold milk plus a selection of homemade jams - which were delicious. If only there had been more bread to spread it on. There was no option to buy any supplies for lunch so it was a good thing I had that stash of muesli bars as I didn't pass through any villages on the way.
The route markings on this section of the trail were actually quite good, provided you were walking it in the regular direction - from Porticcio to Bisiano. They were distinctly sparse if you were trying to head the other way. For example, at one cross-roads there was a splash of orange paint on the track I walked down (clearly marking which turn to take if you were going uphill). However, there was nothing to indicate with of the other three paths lead to Porticcio. I tried eat of them in turn, going 100 or so metres down each way looking for splashes of orange paint. It was the third, least obvious track that was the correct one. I was in the middle of a forest and could smell wood smoke so I was getting distinctly worried. It turned out to be a farmer with an (probably illegal) incinerator.
At another point, I had to walk down a road for 2.5km and then take a track leading off. The route notes neglected to say if the track turned off on the left or the right. In any case, Agnes often gets her left and right confused, which isn't helpful as I can do that all by myself without help. In any case, I ignored what appeared to be someone's driveway and kept marching on down the road. I ended up going about 1 to 1.5km too far and had to back track. It was someone's driveway, but the track turned off it about 10m along, with a sign that wasn't visible from the road but clearly pointed in the right direction to take if you were headed to Bisinao. Grr.
At one point in the forest I passed what I would have sworn was a natural pile of rock, but according to the sign was (to my best translation) the foundations of a signal tower. Apparently there had also been 2 or 3 houses on this spot plus, at a later date, a church. Although, that might have been in the tower. There was no obvious signs of habitation. It just goes to show how quickly and thoroughly the forests around here take over again. Apparently, there were a lot of small villages and settlements in all these hills I've been walking through.
I finally made it to Porticcio with 15 minutes to spare to pick up my suitcase from a hotel here and then buy my ferry ticket to Ajaccio. Turned out I needed have rushed as I'd misread the timetable 14:45 was when the ferry left Ajaccio. The return trip wasn't until 15:15 so I had time for a gelati and a relaxing sit in a beachside cafe. Below is my prize for reaching the end, without getting completely lost or slipping and falling. It contains scoops of melon, passionfruit and raspberry sorbet and is topped with passionfruit syrup and a silly umbrella. I deserved it.
The ferry actually turned out to be a large-ish catamaran. It was quite windy so two sailors had to help everyone get on board as it bounced up and down and side to side. They didn't bother with anything as silly as a gangplank. You had to just step up from the jetty onto the boat, with one sailor on the jetty pushing from behind and the other, on board, grabbing your hand. No one fell in.
Dinner was a disappointment. I've had a hankering for zucchini flowers stuffed with goat's cheese and then deed fried, so I went in search of a place that served them. I came across a place called L'Auberge Ajacciene which had beignets de courgettes (which sounded right) on their Corsican set menu. Turns out, as I should have remembered, that it is the wrong time of year for zuchinni flowers so I just got zuchinni fritters. They were crisp and tasty but totally lacking in goat's cheese, which would have made them perfect. Main course was a tartare of veal. It was heavily flavoured with dill so was very tasty. However, it was cut into larger chunks that I like and was a bit chewy as a result. It came with roast potatoes as a side dish. Potatoes seem to be the only vegetable here. For dessert they let me have the chestnut cream rather than the fiadone that was on the set menu. It was a cream of chestnuts on top of crushed biscuits. While it tasted strongly of chestnusts, which I really like, it was also sickeningly sweet.
My final track and elevation charts. Just eating and drinking and touristing from here on in.
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