Mont St Michel, etcetera

First thing Thursday morning we were up and headed for the station, catching the early train to Pontorson, famous for being the closest accessible place to Mont St Michel, our humble destination. On disembarking, we found ourselves accosted by an English-speaking Frenchwoman who took half the tourists under her wing and proceeded to instruct us on the ways and wherefores of getting to the Mont. She helpfully told us where we could leave our suitcases for the day, and made sure we were all sorted for catching the 'bus. We were slightly nervous that she was going to coerce us into hiring her as a personal guide, but managed to tactfully distance ourselves in the hope that someone richer would catch her eye.

The bus ride out took twenty minutes or so, and the view as we approached the island was lovely - just like one sees in the pictures. We were deposited at the base, and quickly made our way to the information centre to find out if we could walk around the island (it's a tidal thing). Unfortunately you can only go in a group, with a guide, as there is quicksand. Doing our own thing was more appealing (and more budget-conscious!), so we set up walking along the winding street towards the abbey. Somewhat disappointed by the multitude of extraordinarily tacky tourist shops lining the narrow road, and getting slightly damp by the gusts of rain, we hustled up to enter the abbey and learn about the history of this magnificent fortress. The audio guides here were very informative, and it was fascinating to see the layers of the buildings as they were remodelled and rebuilt over the centuries. We ate our lunch in a little courtyard garden just outside the buildings, and then wandered slowly downhill, finding an old family graveyard and a little chapel dedicated to St Michael, with a silver statue of him slaying the dragon. We finished waiting for the bus in a little cafe, waiting for the rain to stop while writing postcards.

Back in Pontorson we had an hour to wait for the bus to St Malo, which we spent sitting on our suitcases by the bus stop, with umbrellas over our heads, singing hymns. No doubt we provided amusement for the other travellers.

We didn't see much of St Malo, alas, but what we did see was very nice. The Youth Hostel is terribly up to date, with all sorts of activity rooms, and we spent our short evening there, getting early to bed in preparation for an early trip across the Channel in the morning. Setting out at 8am, we had a 45 minute walk in to the port in town, trundling our cases over cobblestones (not fun) along the beachfront (beautiful). We didn't make it into the old walled town, but at least had a nice view of it from the outside as we hurried along. Finding the hdferries terminal was a bit of a mission, but we made it, and there were seats left on the ferry we wanted! We even had a lovely calm crossing over to Jersey. . .

1066 and all that

We arrived in Bayeux in an odd mixture of sunny blue skies and random dark grey rain clouds. Our hostel was fairly central and, once we managed to find some staff, we were shown up to our room which was lavishly decorated in pink and purple, with a large marble topped chest of drawers and a bidet in the corner. It was reached by a little spiral staircase, which on further investigation proved to lead to two doors sealed up with police tape. We didn't ask.

Strolling downtown to find some maps and lunch, we each got a croque monsieur from a dodgy little kebab shop, and then had a dreadful time trying to dispose of them quietly (they were cold in the middle, and had green spots) while the owner kept coming up and peering at them to see if he could spot what was wrong. The Visitor Centre was more productive, and we picked up some useful brochures on what to see in and around town. We spent the afternoon looking about the Cathedral which, like the whole town, is very airy and light and spacious, then ended up dining on takeaway couscous and veges on a bench in the rain by an old water wheel. Back at the hostel we were kept entertained until bedtime by the sounds of the group of English schoolboys who had taken the room next to ours ('Arry! 'Arry! Where's my towel?). We kept to our room and played some cards, nervous that if we ventured out and through the communal bathroom we might come across a towel-deprived small boy.

Saturday is market day in Bayeux, and we made accordingly for Place Saint Patrice to see what we could find. It is a large and well-known market, with lots of fresh produce and livestock, and we were inspired to stock up on supplies for dinner (having discovered that there was a guest kitchen at the hostel, despite earnest assurances to the contrary by the staff). We spent a long time choosing and admiring the fruit and veg. and chirruping to the cages of chickens, ducks, geese and rabbits which were bundled about awaiting gloomy fates. It started raining, so we thought it would be a good day to visit the tapestry. We arrived at the museum in good time to catch the short movie on the history and making of the amazing piece of needlework, then took audio guides and started at the start. We discarded the guides fairly promptly - you would have to speed walk in order to hear each description at the appropriate panel - and instead looked at our own pace, hearing snatches of description from other people's guides anyway. The Bayeux tapestry is 70 metres long, and it runs around two sides of a darkened L shaped room. We were both inspired to sketch different parts, and really admired the stitching, the way limited colours are used to such great effect, and the amazing use of blank space in the designs.

After a hot chocolate to revive ourselves we visited the Musée Baron Gérard, an edifice to which one gains free entry if one has just visited the tapestry museum. We found some nice collections of lace and of engraved copper plates, but it was small and we didn't stay long. Back at the hostel we cooked ourselves a gourmet meal and ate it in company with an Aussie couple who'd just arrived, watching a video of football blunders (in French) on the old TV.

We found a Baptist church to go to on Sunday morning which, though the service was taken in French, was pastored by an American and had a few other English-speakers in the congregation. We'd brought our lunch, so straight after the service we walked to the British Military Cemetery where, after eating, we spent an hour or two walking around looking at the graves and memorials. Further along were the public gardens, where we sat and read until it got too cold and wet to stay out any longer. Our evening was enlivened by meeting a lovely young Christian couple from the US, and playing a game of giant outdoor chess in the hostel courtyard. Robyn checkmated me three times! (The first two times we were both sure it was checkmate but, on closer inspection to see what I could have done to prevent it, found it to be only check. It's very depressing to be checkmated three times in one game).

The bad thing about travelling in Normandy 'footloose and fancy free' is that one has to rely on the bus system. You would think, the D Day beaches being the visitor attraction in the area, that the bus companies would take this into consideration and think that people may want to spend the day seeing these beaches, and possibly run routes every hour or so. But no. Twice a day is what you get, carefully spaced so you can't spend more than four hours our and about without having to resort to a pricey taxi to get back. They don't know what's good for them.

Anyhow.

We took a bus to Colville-sur-Mer, where the Cimetière Américain is located: the only US cemetery in the area. Without having realised beforehand, we were treated to seeing the new Visitor Centre in its newly opened glory - it had been finished in time for the D Day anniversary not two weeks earlier. It is a really well laid out and informative centre, with video footage from the first days of Operation Overlord, timetables mapped out on the walls, personal reminiscences from troops now and then, and fascinating glimpses into the planning that began it all. Coming up out of the building we were facing the beaches and the English Channel, and over 9000 perfectly aligned white marble crosses and stars of David, all aligned to face toward America. It's an awe-inspiring sight, and I could've spent hours walking up and down the rows reading names. Unfortunately we had assumed that there would be a town nearby with lunch and things available, but this proved not to be the case. Being now around three o'clock, we were kinda hungry, so set off to find sustenance. We started down the long drive and toward St Laurent sur Mer, which was a tad farther than we had originally thought. Arriving at four, we quickly scoffed some lunch and then investigated the transport situation. It was going to take us too long to walk back to Colville to catch the return bus, and it seemed none came through St Laurent. We reduced to calling for one of the aforementioned pricey taxis, and whiled away our time waiting for it in the Musée Memorial d'Omaha Beach. A fairly basic museum, we actually found the captioned photographs very interesting, and were happily occupied until we where picked up and whisked back to Bayeux. A home cooked dinner of bacon-wrapped, brie-stuffed chicken served with rice, corn and carrots was very consoling, and we congratulated ourselves on unearthing some previously dormant traits of domesticity, while inspiring the rest of the hostel inhabitants with envy. A good documentary made the evening educational - 'The True Glory' won the Oscar for best doco in 1946, and was particularly moving as one realised that all the footage of the Allied Invasion was real, not a clever reconstruction as we are so used to seeing today.

On Tuesday we decided to venture out to Arromanches. We arrived at lunchtime, and promptly bought ourselves crepes, which we ate sitting on the sea wall, then going down to paddle our feet and watch a small dog try to create a long distance tunnel to New Zealand. Somewhat sandy, we ventured in to the Musée du Débarquement, holding our shoes behind our backs, and trying not to leave a trail. It proved to be a great museum, focusing on the artificial 'Mulberry Harbours' constructed for the purpose of offloading troops and gear until such time as a permanent harbour had been captured. They were an amazing feat of engineering and secrecy, and it was cool to look at the replica models in the museum and then glance out the window to see the actual remains still sitting in the channel. There was another good documentary shown here, about the construction of the harbours. Once we'd finished we made our way up the hill to Arromanches 360, a cinema with 9 screens set in a circle, showing footage from WWII, interspersed with modern fly-over shots of the same locations now, in peacetime. It was a great show, and I just wished we could have seen it again, to capture more of what was shown (as it was in a circle all around you, you had to turn to see what caught your eye, and missed some things that happened behind). As we made out of the theatre and down to catch the bus, we were taken aback by being deluged with a sudden downpour of rain. It came out of no-where, and we were drenched in minutes! A damp bus ride home was followed by a hot dinner (stir fry) and conversation with other hostelers while we dried out.

We had decided to splurge, and take a guided tour of some of the D Day sites. Feeling we would learn more this way, and maybe be taken to some spots we wouldn't otherwise be able to get to, we booked in for a one day Battlebus tour, visiting the main British sites of the first days of the invasion. Battlebus is a British company, and we felt that as we had seen some of the American sites by ourselves, we would appreciate hearing some of the British side of things. It also appealed to us that it was just a shuttle bus, with only 7 of us and the guide. And our guide, Stuart, was great - very knowledgeable and excited to share the history with us. We started off inland, at the first drop site for Canadian and British paratroopers. We learnt about some of their early missions, and how they had to take the beach defences so that the troops arriving by sea could land. It was amazing to see the bunkers and look at marks still left on buildings where there had been gunfire. Stuart told us lots of stories of individual soldiers and their acts of bravery, and we saw some of their graves later in the day at a little cemetery. The one museum we went to on our tour was at the Pegasus Bridge site, the museum actually housing the original bridge. There were some great photos of the troops, and lots of their gear displayed. After looking through the museum we went to look at the new bridge, a replica which stands just meters from where the old one was. We even saw it go up and down a few times, as we walked where the gliders landed carrying the men who took the bridge. A German bunker was next on the schedule, and it was fun to stoop through the tunnels and pop our heads out of the machine gun turrets. It was a huge bunker system, stretching out to fill the entire hill, and must have used tonnes and tonnes of concrete. Our last stop was the Ranville war cemetery, one of the smallest British memorials, where we spent half an hour or so.

Back in Bayeux, we raced to our hostel to collect our cases and then hustled down to the railway station to go to our next destination, St Malo. Unfortunately there were no trains running that far at that time of the evening, or anywhere else we wanted to go, so we went as far as possible, which was Saint-Lô, a French town in the middle of no-where. We didn't know where there was to stay, and were hanging around the station waiting for the English speaking attendant to come, when we were accosted by a Kiwi guy (from Hamilton!) and his French girlfriend, who offered to drop us off at the Formule 1! They were absolutely lovely, and drove us there, and the hotel turned out to be cheaper than lots of the hostels we'd stayed in. It was basic, but all we needed for one night.

Rouen

We took a train through the French countryside to Rouen, city of churches and all things Catholic. Arriving at middday, we trundled into town and Robyn sat in the square suitcase-minding while I went to hunt for a hostel. It must have been a busy week tourist-wise, as many places were fully booked, but I finally found a cheap, if somewhat smoky, hotel overlooking the courthouse. A challenging room in a few respects, it had a shoulder height shower head in the bathroom, causing one to adopt a high Anglican approach to washing - I had to keep kneeling down in the bath to rinse my hair. Robyn didn't have this problem, funnily enough. There was a TV, though, and we enlivened a few of our evenings by watching French dubbed CSI and Friends.

Rouen is a great shopping town, and is positively bristling with baby and maternity stores. It's almost frightening how many there are. . . We enjoyed some retail therapy, and found some lovely presents for people. Dinner on our first night was found at an Italian restaurant with pavement tables. We were both intrigued by Robyn's pizza being doused in cream - an odd custom, but tasty.

Our Tuesday afternoon was spent in an excursion to the village of Giverny - home of the late Claude Monet. We travelled there by bus and train, and eventually arrived at a green spot with a pathway to the village street (Rue Claude Monet!). Pausing at a wee bridge for a quick game of Poohsticks (Bob won), we went first to the famous pink house and gardens. The house is gorgeous - huge rooms painted in bright solid colours, with big windows and a kitchen all tiled in blue-and-white with copper pans hanging on the walls. If Mrs Monet was of a domestic turn of mind at all she must have been a very happy woman. We had a wander through the front, more formal, garden, then crossed under the road to the more wild garden with the famous ponds, waterlilies and Japanese bridge. It was a beautiful garden, and we spent a long time watching dragonflies and taking photos of anything that would stay still long enough.

Dragging ourselves away, we had a short stroll through the gardens of the American Impressionist Museum (complete with poppy field) and ate an ice cream on our way up to see the church - a Medieval building with a lovely cemetery. We had to scurry back to catch the last bus, but wished we'd had longer to look around.

There is a church in Rouen dedicated to Sainte Jeanne d'Arc (situated just meters from where she was burned) and we spent some time there the next day. It is a modern building, influenced in design by ships, and is very thought provoking. It was a good place to sit and recap our historical knowledge of the Maid. We also planned to visit the tower where she was tortured, but found it was closed for a couple of weeks. Feeling ourselves somewhat thwarted, we visited instead the Musée de la céramique, where we admired the building more enthusiastically than the ceramics - there was a room clad entirely in hand painted wooden panels, each depicting a different fruit or flower. With time to kill, we then made our way to the Museum of Fine Arts, where we were favourably impressed with the clear descriptions of paintings and styles, and spent some time looking at a display of ikons and impressionist works, also admiring the modern installations in the foyer and stairwells.

Despite dismal wet weather, we wanted to visit the town of Etretat, on the Norman coast. We took a train and, on arriving, immediately hustled into a restaurant to escape the downpour and get some lunch. It was a great place - we each had crêpes and I enjoyed a local cider, and we were kept entertained by a waiter who unfortunately dropped a seafood platter just by Robyn's feet. There were shrimps everywhere! Nipping out when we spied a break in the rain we made for the beach, and admired the cliffs. There is a little church perched atop one of the cliffs, and we climbed the slippery path up to it (getting drenched in the process) to find a sweet stone building with large fish gargoyles along the sides of the low sloping roof, doing their best to drain the gutters. We hung around for a while, then descended back to the town where we patronised another café and dried out while sipping hot chocolates and writing postcards.

We had an early train to catch the next morning, and just had time to have a peep inside the Cathedral before we left. I found a pretty spiral staircase near the front of the church, and would like to explore it further some time. We had to leave fairly hastily, as we had been intrigued each morning by commotions and goings-on outside the courthouse opposite our room. There must have been a high profile case being tried, as there were vans escorted by helicopters and about 14 different types of policemen hanging about. On our last morning Robyn made the mistake of peeping out at them from between the curtains, only to find a 'sniper' aiming his weapon at her from the roofline of the courthouse! Each time she peeped he swung it around, and then later when she tried to take a photo of another cop down in the courtyard he spotted her and shook his finger 'no'. I thought they'd be waiting at the door below for us! but no such luck.

Paris, Part the Second

We wanted to see the Conciergerie, that imposing edifice of terror, but after searching in the wrong quarter of Paris for quite some time, we found it to be closed for the day. Special circumstances, apparently. We abandoned culture for the Galleries Lafayette (more specifically, Printemps department store)(see: Jane Shaw, Crooks Tour) and enjoyed wandering over eight floors of goodies - they have an amazing kitchenware department. Just down the road, we joined a small group of people doing a free tour of a little perfumerie. Unfortunately the tour was in French only, but it was good to wander around following the guide - one could pick up on the general gist of what was happening. We had a nice time smelling different scents.

The Musée d'Orsay was another museum on our 'must see' list and, once there, we made straight for the Impressionist wing. It was amazing to see works by Monet, Renoir, Cézanne, etc. "in the flesh", as it were. We spent a long time wandering by ourselves through the building, taking lots of photographs and again spending a bit of time in the bookshop. We like museum bookshops.

Having ascertained that the Conciergerie would be open on Friday we made for it by a more direct route and were x-rayed and allowed in. The first room one enters is the giant Men-at-Arms hall. Adorned with great arched pillars and whopping fireplaces, we spent ages trying to sketch the vaulting. Apart from being a huge dining hall, this was also where impoverished prisoners slept during the reign of terror. Through to the left were the concierge's rooms, cells for slightly more wealthy prisoners, and other 'reception' chambers. These had great information boards in both French and English, and we learnt a lot. One room was particularly interesting, with the names of guillotined 'traitors' listed all around the walls. I was intrigued to notice that Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette were listed under 'L' and 'M' respectively, not under Capet. Odd. The female prisoner's courtyard was very nice - they had a fountain to wash in and everything. We were also able to see the cell where Marie Antoinette was held. It has been bisected, and half is now part of a chapel, while the other half has been restored to look as it did when she was there.

We next took the Metro up to Montmartre, to look in some of the arcades dotted about. One we particularly enjoyed was the Jouffroy, which specialises in toys, miniatures and crafts. There was lots of inspiration there. We returned to the Louvre for their Friday late night, and this time enjoyed the Dutch and French galleries. We got a little lost looking for some areas (ending up in the foundations of the Palace a few times) but again found our way to the bookshops before closing. It wasn't getting dark until after 10o'clock while we were in Paris, so we decided to hang around the pyramid for a while, watching the lights coming on and taking multitudes of photos. It's a great environment, just lying around on the pavement squinting at the pyramids from different angles and watching the street lights coming on. We were somewhat surprised on leaving to find our way across the road blocked off by crowds and gendarmes. There was a roller derby on, down one of the main streets of Paris! Hundreds of skaters (interspersed with policemen wearing regulation 'blades and helmets) were whizzing past us into the night. It was great! Everyone was having a wonderful time. We stood and watched for about a quarter of an hour before they had all gone past and we were able to get over the road and back to our hostel.

On Saturday morning we went a-market hunting. Arriving at Montmartre, we first came across a tacky market area with nothing of any taste whatsoever. Feeling that we had been duped, we were not in a mood to spend long there, but thankfully caught sight of a sign before we left which listed the different arcades and markets, and showed where they were. We just needed to go a bit further, and we found them! They still weren't exactly what I had been looking forward to, but were fun to wander around nevertheless. Though we decided we would be much more enthusiastic if we had a few thousand euro each and a container ready to tote our goodies away. Ah well.

One of the highlights to our visit to Paris was our tour of the Paris sewer system. Drawn in by the romance of Jean Valjean, we descended below the street and spent a couple of hours learning about one of the most advanced sewer systems in the world. Strolling along metal grilles over the rushing streams below, we were shown the history, technology and workings of the amazing 'city below Paris'. Aside from the dire warnings posted, threatening you with dread diseases if you touched the pipes or walls or ate anything whilst below, we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly, ending in the Visitor Centre where we watched a touching documentary on the 24 hour hotline one can call if one drops a wedding ring down the drain, or accidentally flushes a goldfish that wasn't quite gone yet. Being a fully accessible system, they can rescue pretty much anything. Pretty impressive!

Saturday evening was spent munching pastries from Paul down by the Seine, watching the world go by. A very pleasant past time.

On Sunday morning, after a fruitless attempt to find somewhere that would sell us a hot breakfast (or at least something more than the vending machine pain au chocolat we got from our hostel), we made our way to an English speaking church we had found. After the service we caught a train out to Versailles, where we grabbed a bite of lunch before queueing for the palace. We bought tickets allowing us access to the palace and grounds, and obtained audio guides to tell us what was what. Some hightlights were: the Opera theatre - a beautifully arranged room decorated in light blue and gold; the Hall of Mirrors (obviously); Marie Antoinette's rooms - I liked her decorating style; and, of course, the views from the windows of the gardens below. The gardens were amazing, with probably more fountains than reside in the whole of New Zealand. We wandered for a bit, eating ice creams, and sat by a large fountain where we witnessed a proposal of marriage! Robyn tried to take a paparazzi photo without being too conspicuous, but I think they may have noticed us. . .

Monday morning was our last in Paris, and we set off by train, hoping to stop at Giverny on our way to Rouen. Unfortunately everything in Giverny proved to be closed on Mondays, so we just made straight for our next stop.

Paris, Part the First

So, we arrived in Paris mid afternoon at the Gare de Lyon. After finding maps, metro tickets, etc we made our way to the main Auberge Jeunesse (Youth Hostel), where we were able to book a room for one night only. Being fairly tired we went with this and had an early night, fortified by a hostel dinner. The next morning we were told we could stay one more night, but would have to move rooms. We did this, but decided to see if we could find another hostel.

Catching the metro into town we emerged by the Seine, and I had my first view of the Eiffel Tower (Bob has jaunted round Paris before, albeit briefly). We had decided a boat trip would be a good way to orient ourselves and see some of the sights, so we boarded a sightseeing boat to take us along the river. It was a largish boat, with fairly uncomfortable seats, and an audio commentary in four languages that went on the fritz whenever we went under a bridge (and Paris has many). Still, we learnt a bit, and saw what was where. After we alighted we walked up the gardens toward the Louvre and staved off the pangs with a crepe from a cunning little cart. The gardens are lovely, and are well used. They are plentifully supplied with benches and seats and fountains and lots of grass and hedges to sit behind. The Parisians know a thing or two about public greenery. We thought it would be helpful to find the Information Centre, so went into town and hunted, getting slightly distracted on the way by various chocolate shops. We did make it there eventually and invested in museum passes.

On Tuesday morning we packed our bags and moved to Hostel Blue Planet, a somewhat more central hostel (right opposite the train station, in fact) with lots of stairs and a bizarre key system. The dormitory room one was staying in had only one key. Hence, the first person to get back to the hostel in the evening would let herself in, and then open the door for all the other people sharing the room as they appeared throughout the night. The excitement was also heightened by the fact of there being a bathroom in the room, separated from everything else by a pair of cupboard doors with a one inch gap between them. So lovely.

A trip to past the Sorbonne was called for, particularly as we had heard rumours of certain English language second hand bookshops being located in the vicinity. Find them we did, then carried on toward the Eiffel Tower. The tower is huge. There is a massive open area below it, with queues for people with different priorities under the different supporting pillars. We decided to do it properly, and obtained tickets to allow us to climb the steps to the second floor. It was a long way up, but they have very kindly put little information boards at strategic points up the stairways, allowing you to stop and read and catch your breath in a subtle manner. At the first floor there was a walkway around the perimeter and various displays on the history and build of the tower, as well as a post office. We stopped for a few minutes, then mounted to the second floor. Here were displays of Mr Gustave Eiffel's offices and an interesting feature on references to the tower in popular culture, the media, etc. The second floor is as high as you can go by foot, so we purchased further tickets to take us to level three in the elevator. It was quite a scary ride, as you watched the struts of the structure getting narrower and narrower, and rising higher and higher. It didn't feel like it should stay up! It was fine up there, though, the views were gorgeous and we could find which direction it was to various points around the world, and how far away they were. We wrote a couple of postcards before coming down again, descending right to the bottom by lift, as the staircases had been closed.

That evening, back at the hostel, I discovered that I had, yet again, reset my combination padlock. After an hour or so of trying to come across the new combination, I went down to ask for some wire cutters at the hostel reception. Unfortunately the wire cutter man was not going to be in again until the morning. No problem. I had purchased, in Switzerland, a wee gadget known as a Swiss Military Tool, and I discovered that I could saw through the shackle! Time consuming, but satisfying.

Our trip to Notre Dame was great. We started off inside the main part of the cathedral, where we admired the windows, statues and architecture. A balsa scale model of the building on display was very cool - it even had little balsa gargoyles! We then went up the towers, climbing steep stone spiral staircases. We saw the staircase that led to Esmeralda's cell, and the bells that made Quasimodo deaf. We were able to walk around the towers at a half way point and at the top. It's amazing to see the cathedral from a bird's eye view. You can even see, marked out down below, where the foundations of the ancient church that preceded the cathedral lay. After a lunch from our favourite crêperie, eaten in the gardens at the back of the Île de la Cité, we decided to have a look at the crypts. Under the courtyard and buildings of Notre Dame, these display excavated remains of the ancient city of Paris. It was an interesting exhibition, with buttons to press to light up different features of the ruins. Feeling we needed a little worldly relief, we then proceeded to the Champs-Élysées, where we spent up in the Häagen-Dazs shop and tiptoed round Louis Vuitton. Our noses were aimed for the Arc de Triomphe at the end of the street, and we arrived there to continue in our step climbing experience. We both particularly admired the display of dried ferns (those which, in years gone by, had adorned the tomb of the unknown soldier underneath the arch). A contingent of young French soldiers was visiting the monument at the same time as us, and we greatly admired their yellow tasselled epaulettes. After visiting the top of the building, and seeing yet another view of Paris, we descended to discover that the soldiers had not just been enjoying a field trip. As we reached the bottom of the stairs we were herded behind some barriers (that had not been there when we went up). Curious as to what was going to happen, we hung around for the next hour and a half, watching a French memorial celebration, of what we had no idea. There were veterans and wreaths and a military marching band, roadblocks and gendarmes galore. What infuriated us, though, was the fact that there were twenty-one cunning little soldiers with twenty-one guns at the ready, and did they do a twenty-one gun salute? No, they did not. We were not happy campers. I mean, really, what is the point? They were right there, and everything.*

Having been somewhat delayed by this fascinating ritual, we hot-footed it down to the Louvre. It is open late on Wednesday and Friday nights, so we thought we may as well make the most of a free evening of culture. As we weren't sure how long we'd have altogether we made a beeline for Mona, noting with approval on the way the many squishy benches and chairs dotted about the galleries in a pleasing regularity. We found Leonardo's lady in a room not nearly as dim and dungeon-like as we had been lead to believe. She was very nice, and all that; we admired her greatly before descending back to the well-stocked bookshop under the pyramid, where we spent a happy 20 minutes or so before being 'asked to leave' by the door guards - they shut up shop very promptly! We resolved to return to see other parts of the museum and more of the bookshop. . .

*NB - the military display was actually a D-Day celebration. We spent the whole time trying to puzzle out what it was, thinking of D-Day, but rejecting it as we assumed that would have been a national holiday. It's not. It was odd, too, as the tomb of the unknown soldier was dated 1914-1918, and D-Day was WWII. The French are weird sometimes.

Roadtrip!

After we'd had a brief look around Basel with Andrew and Rob, we set off toward Germany. We were stopped at the border, and our passports checked, which was exciting. Robyn had left hers in her case in the boot and had to spend some time rummaging for it. We were waved through finally and drove on, with an audio commentary from the GPS ("in 200 metres, bear left") (not that kind of bear. That would be silly). Our first stop was in a tiny village where we patronised the gasthaus for kaffe and apfelsaft (a nice apple juice drink). The room we were in had a big ceramic heater just like we'd seen in the Tyrolean Museum in Innsbruck, which was cool. We then drove up into the hills and stopped at a clearing to stretch our legs and take photos. The scenery was gorgeous - hills and valleys with dark shaggy trees and mist and cloud rolling between them. Cameras were kept poised and ready for action the whole way.

The guys had booked accommodation for the first night in Freiburg, and they'd treated us to a hotel! (For their benefit as well as ours). Bob and I were very impressed and, as soon as we got up to our room, simeltaneously squealed "ooh, a bath!". It was terribly exciting, and we swiftly made sure we would be in for the evening to indulge. There were even little packets of sweeties on the pillows! We wandered down to have a look at some of the town before finding a place for dinner. The munster (cathedral) was very impressive, and there were some lovely buildings along the streets of the town. Also an odd thing - small ditches of water running along one side of every street. Nobody fell in, though it wasn't for lack of trying. We found a lovely little eatery in the food area of town where we all tried spätzle - a German speciality. It's a kind of extruded pasta/gnocchi type substance, and was presented to us in individual little cast iron pans with cheese and other flavourings. A good comfort food, we decided, and very nice. Back at the hotel we had our baths (bliss!) and went to bed (only slightly delayed by an acute attack of giggles I had in the elevator), revelling in the hotel-y-ness of it all.

We checked out bright and early the next morning and headed off for Lake Titisee. It's a holiday destination lake, and is very pretty. The weather wasn't that amazing, so we just parked the car and had a little walk, stopping in the town at a little general food store to get some lunch supplies for later on. We carried on driving up country and found a lovely look out point to stop for lunch and a sermon (Robyn had to restrain herself throughout from taking photos of the mist through the trees). Further on we came to an industrial town called Schwennigan, where we found a little clock museum. It was really interesting, focussing not on the clocks themselves so much as the production of them. There was nobody else there when we arrived, and an English speaking chap came out and gave us a personal guided tour which lasted for about an hour and a half! He was very enthusiastic and showed us how all the different machines worked and told us about the history of the industry in the area and the uses of the time clocks and various other things they made. At the end we got to try out a 'build your own clock' kit, which actually worked (once we'd put it together the right way). After leaving there we made straight for Baden-Baden (actually a town nearby where we were booked to stay). We asked for dinner recommendations at the hotel and were directed to a family restaurant with a great range of local cuisine. We had a fun dinner with lots of giggles and tasty food.

On Monday morning we decided to go to France for breakfast. We drove to Strasbourg (after extricating ourselves from the revolving door at the hotel - two people with two suitcases is too much for one compartment!). Parking in a mall, we had a nice pastry breakfast and went for a stroll towards the cathedral, a large pink structure. We didn't stay long, as it was drizzling and not much to do, and headed back into Germany and the Black Forest. We enjoyed our scenic drive and were intrigued, on stopping by the road for lunch, on finding an old Nazi bunker entrance in a hillside. Quite random. Afternoon tea was had at a scenic (spying wind turbines and a cable car through the clouds) spot, sampling Black Forest Gateau. Seeing as we couldn't really explore anywhere we went back to Basel and had a short stroll, before we caught a train down to Bern and the boys returned to the airport and London.