The Camargue

Les Chevaux

It's impossible to see everything you want to see and visit every place that has a line of interest for you, but there are some things that you get a certain sense about - that you just have to go there and that you will be richly rewarded for having made the effort


One thing I just had to do this time, having driven straight past it the last time I was in the south of France, was to explore the Camargue, the vast, salty Rhone River delta.

Salt Mountain in the Camargue

It's been an important place for its salt production (the famous fleurs de sel) for millenia, and it's also known for the wild, grey Camargue horses that have roamed there since paleolithic days.


In the end, its vastness somewhat defeated the capacity of our half day visit (!), but we did manage to visit Aigues-Mortes in the south west, with its astonishing fort and nearby salt mountains, and the unspeakably horrible and touristy Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, which looked like one of those hideous tourist towns on the Spanish coast that fills with pasty poms in the northern summer! It's saving graces included a beautiful soaring church tower and, of course, a view of the Mediterranean on a perfect spring day.

Flamingos of the Camargue

However, as a photographer, I really wanted to spend a late afternoon and evening watching the sun casting its late light on the flamingos of the Parc Ornothologique.  


You can get lucky, and it was a perfect, hot day in Provence with not a cloud in the sky.  With my Manfrotto tripod and trusty Canon 550D, we set up camp and were treated to a truly beautiful and spectacular display.  


When we could no longer summon the energy to take another snap, we settled in for a gourmet picnic in the beguiling light, drank a fine bottle of Corton Charlemagne and stuffed ourselves with fresh baguette, pate de fois, compte and munster cheeses.  Ahh.


However, I'll let the pictures do the talking.


https://picasaweb.google.com/107774157634451829216/TheCamargue?feat=directlink

Le Relais de la Poste

One of the most exciting culinary adventures of our current stay in France has been at Le Relais de la Poste, in La Wantenzau, just north east of Strasbourg.  La Wantzenau is an old fishing village on the Ill River which curlicues its way through the town, running vaguely parallel to the nearby Rhine.

Carte des Vins

Deb (debsravingrecipes.blogspot.com) had contacted Chef Emile Jung, of Au Crocodile restaurant in Strasbourg, in search of haute cuisine versions of traditional Alsatian Easter fare – in this case a rabbit dish.  M. Jung sent his regrets that he could not assist given that he had retired recently, but recommended Le Relais de la Poste as a culinary experience that might meet our needs, especially as his former head chef, Laurent Huguet had taken over the kitchen there.  Not only did he recommend, but contacted Caroline van Maenen, the owner of Le Relais, who made us most welcome and was willing to give us access to the kitchen and share recipes for Deb’s Canberra Times column.

The building itself was suitably ancient, and picturesque in a quintessentially Alsatian way.  It had been, as its name would indicate, a former staging post for coaches. It started its foodie life as bistro and tabac and developed into a seriously popular local eatery in the 70s. Caroline took over the business in 2009 and it has since been awarded a thoroughly deserved Michelin star.

Our accommodation was a very comfortable contemporary adaptation of old Alsatian style and the restaurant provided with some gastronomic experiences that will stay with us.

As you would expect for this standard of restaurant, quality and smooth professionalism exudes from every pore.  The dining room is cosy and sophisticated in its decor and the wine cellar is extensive and impressive, with brilliant guidance and service provided by young sommelier Hervé Schmitt.

Foie de Canard

I won’t attempt to review the food here, as Deb does that much better than I can in her blog and Canberra Times column (should be published in early May), but I do have to say that the Foie de Canard en croûte de sel, haricot blancs au bouillon, laurier et gras jambon, a dish served for two, is no doubt one of the best things I have ever eaten.  

Les Sommeliers

Essentially it’s a duck liver cooked in a crust of salt and served on a bed of haricot beans cooked in a rich stock. Our waiter wheels a serving trolley up to our table and carefully removes the top half of the salt crust, gently lifts the liver on to a cutting board where it is sliced deftly into 8 or 10 portions, and delicately laid on a bed of beans on our plates.  The beautifully presented whole is then drizzled with a sweet and piquant brown sauce.  The texture is amazing, the taste exquisite and the rich bottom end provided by the haricots in their rich bouillon makes for unforgettable eating. The recipe will be published in the Canberra Times on 4 May and will also be available from debsravingrecipes.blogspot.com from this date.

This experience is one to save up for, as this sort of quality doesn’t come cheaply, but it’s well worth it for those with a culinary bent. Don’t stint yourself and try it next time you find yourself in Alsace.


Lots more photos on the Picasa link to Relais de la Poste at top right of blog sidebar!

Fools Day in Trier

St Peters

Trier is the oldest city in Germany, possibly founded by the Assyrians centuries before Rome, and a very important city in turn to Rome, the Franks, the Holy Roman Empire and, through most of this time, to the church.  It boasts a plethora of imposing, if somewhat grim, edifices, including the Roman Porta Nigra town gate and thermal baths, and the immense St Peter's and Constantin's Cathedrals.

Porta Negra

It's also noted as the home town of Karl Marx who was born there in 1818.  In fact, his house was right across the road from our hotel, but we never made it into the museum as it always seemed to be shut when we had a moment!  Obviously it has iconic value to Marxists & fellow travellers round the globe, and appears to be an object of pilgrimage for many contemporary Chinese.


By coincidence, our stay in Trier in Germany in early March 2011 coincided with Mardi Gras (literally "Fat Tuesday" and we know as Shrove or Pancake Tuesday), or the Fasching as it's called in Germany, supposedly the last day of feasting before the Lenten fast but also a celebration of the fool, which made me feel very much at home.  There are parades in towns across Europe and everyone seems to get into the spirit of it.

Blue Fool

Lots of people had gone to amazing lengths to dress up for the day, but even the most undemonstrative of the locals made some concession to the occasion, through a silly hat, slightly odd make-up or some other relatively subtle signal of celebration about their person. Even the dogs were kitted out for the event!


The sight of Obelisk with beer & fag in hand, chatting to one of a thousand pirates in the crowd, devils by the score, jesters, clowns, insects and animals of every kind, hardly raises an eyebrow. But even the mardi gras-hardened Trierers were drawn to the two bright blue Avatar characters as they strolled down the mall and they were mobbed by everyone with a camera in their hand.


The Fasching parade was in great contrast to the pomp that attaches to these grand historical monuments and one gets the feeling that its roots predate any Christian notions and are more linked to Pan and his mischievous mates.  Much fun and a glorious sunny day to boot. 

Everyone plays

Follow the link to Fools Day at Trier in Photo Albums on Picasa at top right of the blog for plenty more photos.

Segway to Paris

There are many things one should do in life, and this definitely includes going to Paris.  Needless to say, there are many things that you have to see in Paris, the City of Light.  If I could suggest one way of combining this necessity with a mode of transport that is a jolt of fun, treat yourself to a Segway tour of this remarkable city.

3 Wise Segways

A segway is an astonishing 2-wheeled device that seems to respond magically and intuitively to your desire to go fast or slow, turn left or right or just to rotate on the spot so you can take in a quick 360 scan of whatever wonder you happen to be surrounded by.

Guess where

This was the second encounter I’ve had with segways, after a similar tour of Vienna a few years back.  The way I’ve described that tour to anyone who was interested, and possibly to some who weren’t, is that I remember almost nothing about the no-doubt breathtaking highlights of the Austrian capital, but had the absolute best time charging around on my hired Segway.  

For anyone who takes delight in effortless, graceful movement and is fascinated by the prospect of a piece of beautifully engineered technology that can leap gutters or stop on sixpence, charge through a break in the traffic, surge across a cobbled square or shortcut through a shopping arcade, then Segway is the way to travel!

Courtesy of Fat Tire Tours, located in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, you can take a tour that is led by a guide who not only knows his or her stuff, but is not adverse to having a bit of fun on the way.  Simon, our guide, was able to provide us with an authoritative spiel on the major monuments of central Paris, led the fun on our 2-wheeled steeds as we played “street domination” and was also able to make wry observations about life among the Parisennes.  We all agreed that for all the great cultural and gastronomic achievements of the French, good coffee could not be counted among them.  It is probably one of the last great unsolved mysteries - why a culture that so prides itself on scaling the heights of gastronomic perfection could so utterly fail to be able to make a decent cup of coffee.  It’s not just that they seem to be unable produce a decent but humble espresso, but ask them to involve milk in your coffee and all pretence at sophistication and savoir faire evaporates.  Not that they would see it that way.

Simon did also make the observation that lots of Australians he had met were actually coffee snobs.  I was tempted to defend our beleaguered land, but decided quickly that if I had to be snobbish about something, then an insistence on good coffee was laudable and defensible.

Anyway, treat yourself to a segway, whatever the city.  Our tour could have been a little warmer as the temperature was in single figures that day, but it’s a phenomenal way to get around, and in a city as beautiful as Paris, I would say it’s parfait!

The ultimate thrill

In Paris 1

It's taken me a little time but I'm determined to catch up on my very late blogs!


Having established our arrival in Paris, I guess some info is needed about being there.  Paris is always Paris (and yes, we'll always have Paris and I love it in the springtime and I'm still waiting to drive through it in a sports car with the warm wind in my hair .......... shame about the age of 37!).  It was great to be there and also to experience it a tad on the chilly side but with the great advantage that brings, of it not being completely overrun by other touros.


It was hard to know where to start, having "done" lots of the major crowd-pullers such as the Louvre, D'Orsay, Eiffel, L'Orangerie on previous visits.  In a way that took the pressure off and Deb and I decided that a lot of our fun this time would be drawn from just being there and cruising the cafes and the restaurants in our patch in the Marais - absorbing Paris through our pores (and alimentary canals).

Now this is a TV

One of the things that really struck me this visit was that the strength of the $Oz seemed to make Paris relatively cheap and you didn't need a third mortgage to eat out at reasonable places, of which there are a plethora in the Marais.




One of our first visits was to the Musee des Artes et Metiers which had been strongly recomended to me by a work acquaintance, just around the corner from home and, while it was good, it wasn't earth shatteringly great. The good things were the kitchenalia, glassware and the section on cameras, radios, TVs, watches etc.  There was lots of beautiful pottery, ceramics and glassware too.  One thing I'll say for though - it's not foot-numbingly big so you can take it in without wearing your legs down to the knees!

Beautiful in the Gardens

Later that day, we wandered around the Luxumbourg Gardens but it was really a little too cold to enjoy much.  I guess one should be impressed by the existance of such a long serving symbol of democracy (the French Senate sits in the formerLuxumbourg palace) but I thought the best thing there was some of the sculpture.


Next stop was the Montparnasse Cemetery, which I had somehow convinced myself was where Oscar and Jimmy were buried.  Wrong again.  Still a nice wander until the chill penetrated a little too deep here.

Mmmmmm

One of the few things we had planned for Paris was our anniversary/my birthday dinner at Restaurant Astier, just a 10 min stroll from our little apartment.  It had been recommended by a fellow food blogger of Deb's called David Lebovitz and his judgement was impeccable.  You can read all about it on Deb's blog (debsravingrecipes.blogspot.com) but the service, food and wine were terrific ( I had a veal terrine, magret de canard followed by a beautiful vanilla creme dessert.  We struck up a conversation with our very propinquitous neighbours at the next table, who proved to be from Dusselldorf and the conversation never stopped.  A great night.

Getting There

The preparation seemed like a hundred marathons run in succession over months and months, but we finally limped over the finish line and crawled onto a plane somewhere in the early hours of a Canberra morning.

The idea of a house swap with a family from Alsace in eastern France was brilliant but both Debbie and I probably underestimated the amount of work it would take to actually turn it into reality. Our problem was compounded by the diminutive size of our house, which meant that we had to dismantle our second bedroom office to turn it into a kids bedroom for our French "swapee" family, but it also made us realise that we had deferred (avoided?) a whole lot of maintenance tasks around the house for rather too long.  That took care of our weekends for a very long time.

Nevertheless, it was done and we were on the plane, having indulged ourselves in Japan Airlines premium economy so that we might arrive somewhat less compressed in Paris than travelling cattle class.  I'm six foot tall and eighty odd kilos, which is pretty average these days, so I can't imagine how somebody with a bit of real height and body mass fits into those terrible economy class seats.  I suppose you endure for the reward at the end of the flight, but we couldn't face that prospect this time.  We scooped up a bit of a bargain from JAL in the middle of last year, but it's still a a fair bit more than the bargain economy fares that the strong Aussie dollar has been delivering lately.

It was money well spent, however, and we arrived in Paris somewhat less the worse for wear than on previous occasions.

Despite our principal objective being Chatenois, a small town in Alsace, it went without saying that Paris would be our first port of call.

The Mean Streets of the Marais

As usual, we booked an apartment in the Marais and but this time really hit the jackpot location wise.  It was a nice, comfortable but otherwise unremarkable apartment (the four flights of stairs was part of our fitness campaign), but a step outside the door dropped us straight into the Rue de Bretagne, with an almost unlimited choice of boulangeries, boucheries, charcuteries, patissiers, bars, restaurants and cafes, as well as being a short hop from a couple of Metro stations  (Arts et Metiers and Filles du Calvaire).

We also discovered much to our delight that Les Marché des Enfant Rouge was on our doorstep - a very cute covered market that had us instantly ooh-ing, ah-ing and drooling.  It was almost the first thing we discovered, and provided us with an instant hit of essential supplies as well as French luxury food.
  
Parfait!

                                                                                    

A chance encounter on the metro