After a very pleasant breakfast at the Hotel LeFab we trek off to the station to catch our train to Bordeaux. After sharing the last train with the school group, we hope we have better luck this time. There in plenty of time, but they only announce which platform your train goes from 20 mins before departure, so there is always a mad rush to get on, even though you have assigned seats.
We find our places, no school childrens, all is good, until the baby starts crying....
The trip is scenic, the French countryside is very green and luscious in this area.
We arrive on time and I've phoned my contact to tell him what time we'll be there. We get a taxi and tell the driver where we need to go. You know that blank look you often get from Indian taxi drivers in Melbourne, yeah, well that's the look we're getting. He gets out the map....no good, he asks somebody else....maybe, then some other fellow tells him something and it's all....Tres bien. Off we go. He drives by the river, chats and sings away in French, asks where we are from...Ahh le kangaroo et le Rugby. Then he does a U turn, stops in the middle of the road, tells us we are as close as we can get, points and says we can go the rest of the way on foot! But where the hell we have to walk to, is unknown.
John is a little cross now, and the Ipad has just died, so we have no map. I will not get out of the taxi, John is telling him, in French, we do not know where to go and that basically he has not done his job! He says ok and will take us back to the station, which he does and does not expect payment. John says he wasn't going to get it!
Take two..... tell the next Taxi where we want to go, he has a SatNav, so that will be ok. He looks puzzled and says our address is not coming up. Bugger!
Ok, time to call my contact. He answers all happy and smiley, tells me I need to catch a taxi from the station to the apartment!!!!!
To cut a long story short, he talks to the taxi man who eventually says.. C'est bon.
We drive off and a little way along find the taxi is following a man on a scooter who appeared like a pixie to lead the way. Thank God for Antoine, like a shining light guiding us to our destination. Finally.
Monday, May 6, 2013
On to Paris
As we visit the relatives again, one last night at The Clarence and an early morning start on Friday 3rd, we have a brilliant run to Heathrow, drop off the car which has driven well and an Underground ride from Heathrow to St Pancras Station.
Next the Eurostar to Paris. What a wonderful operation. This lot over here can take a fast train under the sea from Britain to France in 2.25 hours. We can't even get a fast train from Sydney to Melbourne!
We arrived to a fabulously French 'otel, and were offered a coffee after our long journey. We later sussed out the area, found a bar on Bvd du Montparnasse and sat and sipped white wine, watching the passing parade.
Magnifique!
But where to eat? Well it just so happened, up the rue from our 'otel was a restaurant 'La Cantine du Troqeut' a Basque style Bistro which has a Michelin star. You cannot book so one must wait in line for a table. Big problem....many people, not so many tables.
The man behind the bar waves people in with great enthusiasm and while he gets you a drink, the main lady of the establishment sighs and continues to play Table Tetris.
It is pure theatre and the food impressive. The menu is on a chalk board on the wall and is entirely French and changes daily. Very traditional food at good prices. The staff don't speak much English but that wasn't a problem with John excelling with his French. The couple next to us were Spanish and did not speak French or English, but somehow they got through it all and ended up very satisfied.
I was taken with the pork terrine and then a piece of flank steak with a pepper sauce. John entered into the spirit of things and embarked on a pigathon! He began with L'oreill du cochon, followed by Pieds du cochon. I heard the entrée being decribed by the waiter who had only limited English, to someone as 'cow-head' but it was in fact grilled sliced Pig's Ear. The main course was Pig's feet, braised and pulled into small pieces, served on very rich mashed potato.
Indeed...The Animal was out Friday night.
Next the Eurostar to Paris. What a wonderful operation. This lot over here can take a fast train under the sea from Britain to France in 2.25 hours. We can't even get a fast train from Sydney to Melbourne!
We arrived to a fabulously French 'otel, and were offered a coffee after our long journey. We later sussed out the area, found a bar on Bvd du Montparnasse and sat and sipped white wine, watching the passing parade.
Magnifique!
But where to eat? Well it just so happened, up the rue from our 'otel was a restaurant 'La Cantine du Troqeut' a Basque style Bistro which has a Michelin star. You cannot book so one must wait in line for a table. Big problem....many people, not so many tables.
The man behind the bar waves people in with great enthusiasm and while he gets you a drink, the main lady of the establishment sighs and continues to play Table Tetris.
It is pure theatre and the food impressive. The menu is on a chalk board on the wall and is entirely French and changes daily. Very traditional food at good prices. The staff don't speak much English but that wasn't a problem with John excelling with his French. The couple next to us were Spanish and did not speak French or English, but somehow they got through it all and ended up very satisfied.
Indeed...The Animal was out Friday night.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
High Tea - English Style
High tea is such the done thing and to find this Tea House was good fortune. It was nicely set out with a full on Fairy Garden.
 |
| Alan playing 'Mother' |
Best Sayings
The pub we stayed at in Chale ' The Wight Mouse Inn' was littered with wise sayings.......as well, had the best Poached eggs yet!
The Needles
The Needles is a row of stacks of chalk close to Alum Bay. The lighthouse at the end of the stack was built in 1859. They are called The Needles from the 4th needle shaped pillar called Lot's Wife that collapsed in a storm in 1764. The remaining stacks are not needle like, as you can see, but the name stuck!
What is truly frightening is the degree of erosion of the British coastline generally. Whole houses and car parks are falling away into the sea and yet some people are still building new establishments way too close to the edge!
Isle of Wight
John has been promising to take me to the Isle of Wight for 10 years. It took his cousin to actually get me there. Thank you Elaine.
When John last came to IOW, which was about 50 years ago, there were no ATMs, there were no mobile phone, there were no personal computers and a tablet was something you took for a headache, not an Ipad. Since he uses none of these things, nothing has changed much for him. For the rest of us, however, life moves on.
We walked piers all over the island and always to the end. I very much enjoyed the island, a mixture of stately, tacky and rural.
The weather was very good considering the last couple of weeks, but on the IOW everyone was stripped and on the beach, I feel some very sore little, or not so little, bodies the next day!
The old deck chair was not so much in demand considering one has to pay to use them. But I'm told in August the place is packed.
When John last came to IOW, which was about 50 years ago, there were no ATMs, there were no mobile phone, there were no personal computers and a tablet was something you took for a headache, not an Ipad. Since he uses none of these things, nothing has changed much for him. For the rest of us, however, life moves on.
Squirrels
Last time we were in Hampshire, John used to go for walks and tell me all about the squirrels and how funny they were.
Not to the English of course, who regard them as pests like our possums. On this occasion I found my own little squirrel
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)