Another Day in the Black Forest

I've had a busy week! My dad left Strasbourg on Tuesday, Thursday I left with Laetitia for London, and the day in between was no relaxing walk in the park--on Wednesday, Malou took Kat and I hiking in the Black Forest!

All I know is that we were closest to a town called Oberkirch in Germany and that we kept following signs that read "Sohlberg", if those are good reference points as to location. Other than that, all I know is that we were in the Black Forest (which was much sunnier than I remembered it being back in November). All the late spring flowers were blooming along the trail we took, and Malou basically skipped through the meadows pointing out the daisies and buttercups, the forget-me-nots and Queen Anne's Lace.

It was quite a hot day, even at 300 meters up in the hills. We had a picnic lunch by the ruins of an old monastery, which sounds much more dreary than it actually was. Nearby is a bustling cafe (in the middle of nowhere, of course) and we sat down for tea and cake there. I stayed far, far away from the Black Forest cake... I have learned my lesson. Even though it looks like chocolate cake, it doesn't taste at all like it! 

After a good two hours hike--more of a walk or wander, actually--the three of us arrived at some cascades, which is where the silliness commenced, at least for Kat and I. Malou remained unfazed by our ridiculousness. First, Kat and I were trying to take a nice photo in front of the little waterfall, yet were thwarted by a particularly difficult railing that we tried to sit on for the picture. It took a good while to actually sit down, and by that time we were in stitches, especially when we found out that Malou caught our entire struggle on film. Next, Kat decided to just look silly and Malou took it all in stride. 

All in all, it was an absolutely lovely day in Germany. On the way back, Malou recounted Black Forest legends to us and showed us the liquor house. Because we were in Germany, of course, there has to be liquor available before/during/after the hike. There was just a little wooden "house" that was filled by a cold flowing stream and filled with bottles of German liquor in various flavors (cherry, pear, etc). The little hut also provided tiny shot glasses and a suggested payment for a glass of liquor, but no one was around and no cameras were there to make sure you payed. I just remember thinking that this liquor house would simply not work in the U.S., as no passing person would ever pay, they would either steal the bottles or just walk away with a free shot of some very VERY strong liquor. Honestly, I took a sip and almost gagged. The "pear" flavor is just a joke; the actual flavor is "horribly strong alcohol" flavor. 

I can't even describe how nice of a day it was. It felt like something out of a movie. The crickets and cicadas were humming, the sun was bright and the air warm, the forest was full of flower meadows and cherry orchards... Such a perfect day. Although I've been finished classes and exams for weeks now, I'm glad to have stayed, as these past few weeks in Alsace (and abroad!) have been some of my favorites.

Hohenzollern Castle

I haven't been to a castle in a while, so the Monday of my dad's four-day visit in Strasbourg, we drove out to Hohenzollern Castle in Germany. I've really wanted to visit this castle for a while anyway, and as it is really difficult to reach by public transportation, and as my dad had rented a car, it was perfect!

Hohenzollern is two hours away by car from Strasbourg, and you see the castle in the distance way before you see any road signs for it. It's pretty imposing.

My dad and I arrived around noon, and the only English tour of the day was at 2pm, so we ate a great lunch at the castle's restaurant and walked around (taking a million pictures all the while). We even saw a little owl! Unfortunately it is forbidden to take photos inside the castle, but the interior was absolutely beautiful: marble floors, gold gilt walls and ceilings, and fantastic views of the countryside below. The castle we walked through was actually the third to be built on that hill, as the original (built in the 11th century) was besieged and destroyed. The second fell into ruin, so the third was built in the 19th century. It's not a true medieval castle, of course, but it still felt like I was walking through one. 

On one final note, I'm pretty sure I saw a prince and princess in person, but I'm not quite sure. They were filming something in the castle, or having a photo shoot there. It was a Monday after all, so there weren't as many tourists. Also, they'd only be the prince and princess of Prussia, but still, it was cool. Apparently they don't live in the castle (surprising, right?). 

Maison Kammerzell

Finally, I have eaten at the Maison Kammerzell, one of the most famous places in Strasbourg! It's an old old OLD house dating back to 1427, and it's extremely ornate. Located right next to the cathedral, it has been turned into one of Strasbourg's best restaurants, but since it's a little pricey, neither Kat nor I had yet eaten there.

My dad offered to take us there, though, so Sunday night, after a day on the Wine Route, my dad and I met Kat at the Maison Kammerzell for dinner. Since it was our first vist (and probably last, at least for the foreseeable future), we didn't hold back, each ordering three courses. Kat and I both started off with chilled cucumber-melon soup while my dad ate escargot a la Strasbourgoise. My main course was chicken done in a "coq au Riesling" style, and complete with spatzle. And to finish off, I had an apple strudel, while Kat enjoyed a chocolate-cookie-pear sundae and my dad ended with a glass of "eau de vie" -- literally meaning "water of life," it's a super-strong clear liquor that I can't even stand smelling, not to mention tasting. 

It was such a cool dinner at the Maison Kammerzell. I'm so happy to have eaten there before leaving Strasbourg! Highly recommended if you are ever in Alsace!  

Route des Vins

Less than two weeks till I'm home, and guess who decides to show up in Strasbourg? My dad. And even though he kept murdering the pronunciation of Alsace (no, it's doesn't sound like "Alsack"), I was super happy that he was able to visit for the past four days. 

He arrived on Saturday morning, and I immediately took him on a whirl-wind tour of my city. All the major sights were covered: the cathedral, climbing the cathedral, Petite France, Place Kleber, Place Broglie, the European Parliament building... along with the random sights, such as my favorite cafe, my favorite bakery, the ice cream parlor that I really like, the school where I taught English lessons, and my favorite spot by the river overlooking the restaurant-boats and the "Other Church." 

Seeing as he had just hopped off the plane a few hours previous, I think it was a little too much. I was even so excited to see my dad that I totally forgot where the Au Brasseur restaurant was, resulting in us walking way all the way to Petite France when it's located on the other side of the city. All he wanted was a beer, yet I showed him all of Strasbourg in three hours. Needless to say, my dad was exhausted. 

Saturday night, the two of us went out to dinner with my host parents to the Marronier, a huge and beautiful traditional restaurant in a far-away little town. It was a fun dinner, especially amusing as my dad was speaking fluent Franglais to my host parents throughout. I couldn't stop laughing, but honestly I'm also pretty proud of my dad's level of French. He hasn't spoken it in a while, and for the most part he could understand the gist of what my host parents were saying. I rarely needed to translate, although I did clarify some of his responses, as neither Raymond nor Marlene speak Franglais. 

Sunday was spent on the Route des Vins, Alsace's famous Wine Route. It consists of at least 20 picturesque medieval villages on the footsteps of the Vosges mountains, surrounded by vineyards. I've been on a tour once before back in September, visiting Obernai and Riquewihr and a few others. 

Malou suggested five towns, but we only managed to visit two. We started off in Ribeauville, the town that I spent Valentine's Day exploring. It was much more alive this time around, as the sun was shining and the vineyards were green. I guided my dad around the town and up onto the hiking path that I had found back in February, but we both decided that we wouldn't hike all the way up the the three castles. 

After an hour or so in Ribeauville, we drove to Kaysersberg, a town I had never before visited as it is not accessible by train. Kaysersberg ended up being the true gem of the wine route, and it is my favorite of any of the villages in Alsace. It's even better than Colmar!

Kaysersberg is a beautiful little place that feels right out of the story books. It's all colorful timbered houses, ivy, flowers, and cobblestones, complete with a medieval stone tower overlooking the surrounding vineyards. I took over three hundred photos, and my dad and I spent more than four hours in the pretty little village. We climbed the tower-castle, we sat by the river, we walked through the whole town at least once... and we ate a very good lunch (and a very good tea as well! complete with chocolate-raspberry cakes!) Even though we only visited two of the Wine Route's towns, neither my dad nor I felt like we had lost out. Kaysersberg was completely worth it. 

I will say that although we were on the Route des Vins all day, surrounded by vineyards and wine tastings, neither of us had any wine. My dad stuck with beer (Kronenbourg, an Alsatian beer at least!) and I just had water. I've had quite a lot of Alsatian wine these past few months! 

Dijon, Frog Legs, and Red Wine

I suppose that I'm a true Frenchie now, aren't I? Because I can finally, finally say "Yes, I HAVE tried both escargot and frog legs. And they are delicious."

But before I get into all the Dijon specialties (of which I tried a good number, especially considering that I was only there for a weekend)... I finally made it Dijon! I've been promising to go since the beginning of this year abroad, and last-minute I booked my tickets for last Friday morning. It was great to see the city where Bridget, Julianne, and Christian have been spending their study-abroad experience, and it was even better that they acted like our tour guides, showing Kat and I around without us having to pull out maps or look up good restaurants. It turned out to be Christian's last weekend in Dijon as well! His flight back to the U.S. left today, actually. 

I'll give you a little photo tour of Dijon to start off, and then we'll talk cuisine. First up is the owl. It's this little owl carved into the side of the cathedral, and you are meant to rub it with your left hand and make a wish, then walk away towards the front of the cathedral, and away from the evil little salamander carved into the stone a few feet behind the owl. Of course, Kat and I partook in this tradition, although to me the owl doesn't really look like an owl anymore. I will say that this chouette is so important to Dijon, though, that it is now under constant video surveillance.

Next, the red buildings. Back hundreds of years ago, they used to paint the houses with ox blood to apparently kill termites, which is why the houses were a red color. I don't know if ox blood paint really works as a pesticide, but it doesn't matter because no one does that anymore. It's just red paint on those buildings. I think. I hope.

Here is one of the other sights très dijonnaise: the Porte Guillaume, which is basically a much smaller Arc de Triomphe. (Ripping off Paris, huh Dijon?)

And I'll finish off this mini photo-tour with Place de la Liberation. There are lots of fountains and cafes there, and it was so typical Dijon, especially with the cream-colored stone that is used. By far my favorite place to go in Dijon, I really loved just sitting in one of the cafes in this pedestrian-only square. 

Now on to the specialties of the region! Dijon Mustard is, of course, one of the first things that springs to mind, and I did try it, but I'll start first with my trip to Beaune (pronounced Bone). This cute little touristy town is twenty minutes by train from Dijon, and it is basically what Colmar is to Strasbourg: a cool little medieval place to bring visitors so they can marvel at the region's architecture and taste wine.

Which is exactly what Kat and I did: view typical architecture and taste wine. While Colmar is full of old wood-beam houses painted in a rainbow of colors, Beaune magnifies the rooftop tiling of the Bourgogne (or Burgundy in English) region. The polychrome roofing is beautiful. You can find small examples of it around Dijon, particularly on some of the spires of one of the cathedrals, but polychrome tiles are really found in Beaune, especially in the Hospices. It's a huge building, founded in 1443 as a pretty fancy hospital for the poor. It's a museum now, and definitely worth a visit. The polychrome tiles on the rooftop are fantastic, but the interior is also beautifully tiled. 

Another specialty of Beaune--and of Bourgogne--is wine! So of course, after eating lunch, Kat and I went on a wine tour at Marché au Vin, a wine cave near the Hospices. We chose to take the 7-wine tasting, thinking that was more than enough, but they added an eighth wine free. We also received a strange little tin tasting cup to use and eventually keep as a souvenir, which was very cool. The tasting was self-guided, so Kat and I went down into the dark cellars and started out with a rosé. We then tasted four reds, followed by three whites, all the while trying to say sophisticated things about the wine and clearly failing. ("This red very woodsy, a little smokey, even. Kind of like elves collecting mushrooms in the forest. But not J.R.R. Tolkien elves. Now this wine, this is much sweeter, more fruity. It tastes like faeries building an enchanted castle. I would buy that wine if it was described like that!") 

Overall, though, while the experience in the wine caves was very, very cool, it was a little wasted on me. I'm just going to admit it: I dislike wine. I thought after 10 months in France... but nope! Each wine tasting is a struggle to finish. And I especially hate red wine, my goodness! White wine I can grin and bare, but drinking reds make my face screw up in distaste. 

Saturday night, after our return from Beaune, Kat and I ate dinner with Julianne, Christian, and their friend Dave at a restaurant that specializes in frog's legs. It was a really fun dinner, and very eye-opening! I downed every specialty in the book in one fell swoop! Escargot, Frogs legs, Dijon mustard, and Kir (white wine with blackcurrant syrup)! 

My favorite of the four specialties? Frog's legs, surprisingly! Although the Frog's legs came in a Dijon mustard-cream-and-garlic sauce, so I guess the mustard is my favorite as well. What was actually freaky was that we received the whole bottom half of the frog--hip bone and thighs and knees and calves and little feet, all still connected and intact. Obviously, you are eating off the bone(s), so... I mean, you could tell it was a frog. There was no fooling yourself--you are eating frog. The bones were so fragile, too! And I can confirm the rumors: it tastes mostly like chicken.

As for the escargot, that I could fool myself into thinking, "This isn't snail!" This is because the little snails were marinated in butter-garlic-parsley and plopped onto a slice of bread, so it was similar to eating bread with a sauce and a little brown-grey mushroom-looking thing on top. There really wasn't too much taste besides the butter-garlic. The Dijon crew said that usually, you have to take the snails out of their shells, and that the restaurant prepared them strangely, so I guess I didn't get the real escargot experience, but I'm counting it all the same!

So that wraps up my culinary adventure in Dijon. I'm so very glad that I managed to make it there before leaving, and I really loved my time there! It made me wonder about what it would have been like to study abroad there, like Christian, Julianne, and Bridget did. In the end, though, I still believe that Strasbourg was the right choice for me. 

[ Also, if you were curious, the image below is of Lake Kir, which is just outside of Dijon. Apparently there was an important guy named Kir somewhere along the history timeline, and Dijon honored him by using his name for everything. ]

Naked

It's commonly known that the French think Americans are a prudish people. And when Americans make a list of "French" things, nude beaches are usually mentioned along with the Eiffel Tower, croissants, and escargot. 

Of course, no one in France walks around naked. France isn't that liberal. However, you can usually find a few postcards of naked woman posing with local scenery sold in tourist shops, and one of the advertisements of a local beer has a woman with her skirt flipped up for no reason.

So why am I bringing this up? Well, last week, I went with Malou to the Maillon Theater for the last spectacle of the year. It was called "Usually Beauty Fails," and was meant to be a dance and music show. As we were waiting for the show to begin, Malou leaned over to me and asked, "Have any of the other spectales been nude?" When I responded in the negative, she nodded to herself and stated casually "Oh, then this show will probably feature nudity. Each year, one of the productions do. Once it was the opera." 

At least she warned me in advance. 

The dance started off normal, well, as normal as an avant-garde theater's hip-hop techno dance show could be. No nudity for the first 15 minutes, and I found myself seriously doubting Malou's warning. Imagine my surprise when, during the fourth song, the five dancers all start unabashedly stripping on stage. Everything came off. Two other songs also featured nude dancers, and all I could think was, "There are children in the audience!" No one else seemed to mind at all, though. In fact, the dancers were given a standing ovation at the end of the performance. 

Yep, so that was an experience. Honestly, I'm not sure why the dancers had to be nude, as I found it strange and unnecessary. It made no sense to me. Too American, I suppose. 

And one final thought: a nude opera? I can't even imagine that. The horror.

Firsts and Lasts

This May will be a time of small hellos and goodbyes--I have already experienced a few. The biggest goodbye will come at the very end of the month: leaving Strasbourg one last time, leaving my host family that I have come to know and love over the past 10 months, not knowing when I will be able to return. My flight home is already booked. My year abroad is about to end. However, at the moment, the changes have been quite small. Most of them are really me just trying new things, honestly. For example:

1. Last night I finally gave in and tried a Donner Kebab for the first time. The Turkish dish has become a classic drunk food for European party-goers, and little fast-food shops selling Donner Kebabs can be found all around Strasbourg (all around every European city, basically). I, however, ate them as a "last meal" with Emma, Laetitia, and my host mother at a sit-down place in Schiltigheim (and yes, names of  Strasbourg suburbs are all really complicated). It was pretty good, actually! I'll probably eat another before leaving in a few weeks, especially since Kat has been pestering me to try them ever since she returned from Barcelona.

2. Last night was also Emma's last night in France. I became really close with my lively housemate over the past three months, and I was quite sad to see her leave this morning. Dinner conversations will simply not be the same without her. We made pancakes together at Laetitia's apartment on Sunday, and we went out for huge ice cream sundaes from Franchie's yesterday as a final hurrah. Saying goodbye this morning wasn't physically difficult, but it sucked all the same, and it just reminded me that in a few weeks, I'll be the one saying the final goodbye. Seeing her empty room this afternoon actually hurt the most because it made everything real. It'll be strange when my room is empty... and no longer mine.  

3. Kat and I arrived early for our reservation at CocoLobo (a great tapas restaurant in Strasbourg) a few nights ago, so we wandered around the area a bit. Right across from the restaurant's entrance is the one tourist site in Strasbourg that I had not yet seen: the long covered bridge by the art museum that gives a beautiful view of the river and the towers that used to guard the city. Kat and I walked up to the top of the bridge and admired the view as dusk was closing in. 

I've never really loved change (who does?) but there's no use fighting against it. My time here in Strasbourg is quickly drawing to a close, and it feels surreal. Wasn't I at the beginning just a few days ago? I'm not quite ready to say the last goodbye. I've got three more weeks to live it up!

ITALY Part IV: Milan

My quick trip to Milan is the perfect example of why you should research extensively before planning a trip. I booked a night in Milan at the last minute because to get back to Strasbourg I had to go through Milan any way, and besides, everybody has heard of the city, so I figured there must be something to see there, right?

Wrong.

Milan's tourist attractions include its Duomo, which is pretty to look at, and a few museums chock full of religious artwork. Honestly, after the past nine months in Europe, I've seen so many churches and cathedrals that they have started to all blur together, and I feel like I go to at least one museum every week (even though that's not true). At any rate, I didn't feel the need to enter any museums showcasing religious relics or one of the thousands of famous oil paintings of Madonna and Child, so I chose to spend my time in the Museo del Novecento (the Museum of 20th Century Art). People have already criticized my choice ("You didn't go see DaVinci's painting of The Last Supper? You fool!"), but that's the great thing about traveling alone--you are completely in control of the schedule! I thoroughly enjoyed my time at the museum that I chose, and that's what matters. I actually spent a good three hours in there... at the top, there were great views of Milan's Duomo, and museum admission was completely free, may I add! 

There was a whole section of strobe-light rooms that you could walk through. My favorite one was like being inside an optical illusion, as the lines and the lights tricked the eye into thinking the perfectly square room was actually seriously unbalanced. Besides from the strobe-light rooms, there were hundreds of paintings (some experimenting with materials such as rubber or shredded canvas). One of my favorite paintings from the museum was this one (below) by Italian painter Umberto Boccioni, and it's entitled "States of Mind I: Those Who Stay." I thought it aptly captured the emotion of people leaving a train platform after bidding goodbye to their loved ones.

Other than the museum, my time in Milan was spent window shopping, pretending I was French at the restaurant where I ate dinner, and talking to the guys I roomed with in my hostel. My hostel was really nice--probably one of the nicest I've stayed in--but it only offered 6-person mixed dorms, and of course with my luck, I was placed in a room with 5 other guys. They were all really nice, though--two American law students, two South Americans, and an Indonesian guy who works in Paris. 

And honestly, that wraps up my time spent in Milan, and Italy in general.  I don't have too much planned for the rest of May (I'm finished with classes, my last lesson at EPITECH was a few weeks ago, and I only have one more exam!) but I'm sure I'll scrape up something to do for my last few weeks in Europe! 

ITALY Part III: Under the Tuscan Sun

Florence! I absolutely loved my time in Florence. I stayed in Carlee's apartment for three days (sleeping on the couch, still better than a hostel!) with her four other roommates. She's in a fantastic location--only a ten minute's walk from the Duomo, which is basically the center of the city. We arrived Monday night, and I left on Thursday afternoon.

Carlee gave me a quick tour of the city on Tuesday morning--we ran through every important building and/or tourist site in Florence within 45 minutes--then we went grocery shopping in the market and made ourselves some lunch. That afternoon, Carlee had class (two hours of wine tasting), so I was left alone to wander around the city. I spent most of my time at the Ponte Vecchio, the beautiful medieval bridge that is crowded with high-class jewelry shops. According to Carlee, one of Florence's kings walked past the Ponte Vecchio every day, and came to detest the odors that surrounded the bridge due to all of the butcher's stalls and tanner's shops. So the king outlawed any trade on the bridge excepting gold sellers, and the shops continue that tradition. 

Meeting up with Carlee after her class, the two of us wandered around the city before visiting her favorite restaurant across the river: Osteria Santo Spirito. It was some of the best food I've ever eaten. We split a huge bowl of cheesy gnocchi in truffle oil... my mouth is literally watering now just thinking about it. Additionally, we split a spinach ravioli dish with cream and walnuts. The restaurant gave us free chocolate-dipped strawberries with the check: a perfect finale! 

Following dinner, we hung out at the apartment until 10:30 pm, when we left with two of her roommates--Victoria and Jenny--to go experience Florence nightlife. That was... fun? I'm not really someone who loves partying or going to clubs, but it was an interesting experience. 

Wednesday is Carlee's busiest day, so I was pretty much on my own. I wandered for a bit, bought some gelato, then headed to the Boboli Gardens at the edge of the city. The line to buy an entrance ticket was pretty long, and a middle-aged American couple actually budged in front of me, but I didn't say a word. It's funny how Americans in Europe think that they are the only ones around who understand English, because this couple kept glancing back at me and making loud comments (about me, and about the others around us), totally unaware that none of us in line were actually Italian. I've heard of this happening before, and it really amused me to witness it first-hand. I didn't let on that I understood anything they were saying, and the couple continued blabbering on about the Italians, the line, their hotel, the city, the people around them... A tip for any American who goes abroad: don't think that English is some secret, undecipherable language. Everyone knows at least a phrase or two in English, especially in tourist areas where it is the second language of locals. If the obnoxious couple in front of me had been making their snide comments in Norwegian or Afrikaans, they would have at least been secret, but as the couple conversed in loud, clear English, they just looked like rude idiots.  

Once I had finally bought my ticket, I ended up spending hours in the Boboli Gardens. It's a truly beautiful place, as if the countryside of Tuscany has been captured and cultivated and brought to the edge of Florence for everyone to enjoy. If I lived in Florence, I would get a season ticket to the gardens. As the gardens sit on a hillside, there were a few nooks of the garden that gave a good view of Florence. Boboli was dotted with Greek statues and fountains, and the day itself was sunny and summer-sweet.  

I met Carlee after her classes, and we went for happy hour at a little hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant. I had my first frozen margarita, and it was fantastic! (Mine was raspberry-flavored). The margaritas were huge and pretty strong, so Carlee and I were very giggly throughout our dinner at the Ristorante Osteria Pepo, a tiny little restaurant that is extremely crowded from the moment it opens at 7 each night. They sat us with some free champagne, and I had the special: a delicious mushroom risotto. I loved how all the best restaurants gave us little free tastes--chocolate strawberries at one, champagne at the other--it's how you know that you're seated at a real restaurant and not a tourist trap. 

We were meant to wake up early on Thursday, Carlee and I, to get to the Duomo early and avoid long lines. Well, that failed. We made breakfast and headed over around 9:30 a.m. Luckily, we were able to make it up the tower within two seconds of buying a ticket, but by the time we descended, the line to climb the dome itself stretched for maybe a quarter of a mile. We decided to stand in line anyway--it took three hours--then climbed the dome. Carlee said that when she first arrived back in February, the line only took twenty minutes... apparently tourist season exploded in early April, and since then, the lines have only increased in length. 

Since it took so long, the Duomo was the last thing I did in Florence (besides stopping for organic gelato at Eduardo's, one of the best gelato places in the city!) Even though standing in line took forever, It was worth it because when you climb the dome, you are standing right below the frescos that decorate the inside of the dome, and they are magnificent to behold up close. I could almost touch them, they were so real. It's a bit of a feat to climb the dome, though, so no one with a fear of heights or a hatred of steep stairs should attempt! 

That wraps up my three days in Florence! My last stop was a quick visit to Milan, but I'll save that short story for another post. I will say, though, that if I could have studied anywhere else in Europe, I probably would have chosen Florence. I love Strasbourg dearly and it remains my number one choice, but Florence would have been amazing. If only I could speak Italian! The whole holiday, whenever anyone spoke to me in Italian, I automatically responded in French. I didn't even think: my brain registered "Not-English," so I responded in French. I love how it is constantly at the tip of my tongue... I no longer have to put too much thought into each French sentence I utter! Personally, though, I think French is a much prettier language than Italian... however I might be a bit biased. Milan is next! Ciao!