So Long, Colmar; Strasbourg, Here We Come

Today is our last in Colmar; Kay and I catch a taxi from the hotel to the Gare and take a 15-20 minute ride to Strasbourg. Kay has assured me that she would be standing over her suitcases the whole 30-minute ride. And that is exactly what she did, like a lioness defending her cubs from a marauding pack of hyenas:

As Shakespeare wrote in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, “And though she be but little, she is fierce.” Nobody messed with her bags; most of the passengers avoided eye contact and hurried past.

The station at Strasbourg is interesting, looking like a larger version of the Chicago “Bean” sculpture. I was here once before, back in 1974, but the only memory I have is an image of a boat ride on one of the canals. A brief aside here: it has been my experience that every city in the EU (and in the US, for all I know) that has any kind of canal refers to itself as “The Venice of the (North, South, Midwest, Arctic, Sahara, etc.).” In many cases, it is simply not true. For example, while the 20-minute canal ride in Colmar was interesting, the canal was just a bit larger than a drainage ditch, and the flat-bottomed punt we rode was propelled by the kind of electric motor you would use fishing for bass in the weeds. Also, it seems to me that the chambers of commerce of these places have it wrong. When I went to New College in Florida back in 1974-76, some referred to us as “The Harvard of the South,” but we preferred to call Harvard “The New College of the North.” I looked up New College’s ranking when I went there and got this:

New College in Sarasota, Florida, was considered highly selective and very highly ranked in the early 1970s, including 1974. At that time, its reputation was among the nation’s elite “most competitive” colleges, often compared with top-tier schools such as Harvard, Yale, and Princeton.

That is not as true these days. Ron DeSantis turned his special attention on the school since it was a tad too liberal and inclusive for his taste, and it has dropped precipitously in the academic rankings. It’s really not the same school, and I wish they would just change the name and be done with it. I try to keep this a family-friendly blog, but on the off chance that Ron may read this blog, screw you and the horse you rode in on, or as we say in Yiddish, Ale tseyn zoln dir aroysfaln, nor eyner zol dir blaybn af tseynveytik.

But, gentle reader, you take my point; if the Colmar Chamber of Commerce really wants to sell the product, they should refer to Venice as “the Colmar of the South.”

Just in case you ever decide to visit this corner of the world, I have a little advice. Rick Steves is a pretty dependable guide and seems like a very nice guy. But in this case, I think he got things wrong. He suggests that for a 3-4 day stay in Alsace, you should base yourself in Colmar and maybe take a day trip to Strasbourg. I think it’s the other way around. Strasbourg is a real city, with different neighborhoods and plentiful restaurant choices. Colmar you could actually see pretty thoroughly in a day, two days tops. And it is very heavily touristed. If you want to tour wine villages, they are just as accessible from Strasbourg as from Colmar.

Speaking of neighborhoods, Strasbourg has one called “Little France.” Let me anticipate your question. Why would a neighborhood in France be called “Little France”? It’s like calling a section of downtown Cleveland “Little Cleveland.” But a little research and all becomes clear. In the late 15th century, soldiers from France came back home with syphilis, which the Italians called “the French disease.” They built a hospital for these soldiers; the local residents were Alsatian, who spoke German and associated themselves with Deutschland. They call what the soldiers had “the French disease” derisively. The neighborhood became associated with the hospital, hence the name. Interestingly, it seems like all of Europe attributed venereal disease to the next country over. Historically, the Brits, Italians, and Germans called it the French disease. The French called it the Spanish or Neapolitan disease, the Russians called it the Polish disease, the Poles called it the Turkish disease, the Turks called it the Christian disease, and the Japanese called it the Chinese pox.

In the same vein, I couldn’t help but wonder what the French call French Bulldogs; was it like that old joke:

“What do the Chinese call Chinese food?”

“I don’t know, Dad. What do they call it?”

“Food! Yuk yuk yuk…”

Jokes on me. In France, they call a French Bulldog a Bouledogue Français, which means “French Bulldog.”

We started today with the usual breakfast buffet in the hotel. 15-20 euro sounds steep for breakfast, but think about it; I had several of the excellent lattes and espressos from their machine, fresh baguette, Jambon de Bayonne, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, several kinds of cheese, and a pastry. [Note: I don’t usually chow down like this for breakfast. At home I have a slice of ham and a slice of cheese on a roll in the AM, and that’s it till about 5:30 PM, but this kind of breakfast will keep you on your feet for many hours and miles of sightseeing.] How about Starbucks in Portsmouth, NH?

2 large lattes apiece at around $6.00=$24

Maybe some orange juice x2? $8.00

Plus we have to eat something, maybe a tomato and mozzarella on focaccia? That will set you back at least $14, and that’s before tax and tip, which are not included in the listed prices. Since the New Hampshire rooms and meals tax is 8.5% and you might want to leave a 10% tip for the barista, that brings you to around $54. And remember, the Starbucks meal doesn’t include unlimited refills. Why aren’t we rioting in the streets? I dunno.

By the way, they have a European-style toaster in the breakfast room that only toasts the bread on one side. This put me in mind of Sting’s song “Englishman in New York,” which seems pretty relevant today:

“I don’t drink coffee I take tea my dear
I like my toast done on the side
And you can hear it in my accent when I talk
I’m an Englishman in New York”

“If ‘manners maketh man’ as someone said
Then he’s the hero of the day
It takes a man to suffer ignorance and smile
Be yourself no matter what they say.”

Modesty, propriety can lead to notoriety
You could end up as the only one
Gentleness, sobriety are rare in this society
At night a candle’s brighter than the sun.”

“Takes more than combat gear to make a man
Takes more than license for a gun
Confront your enemies, avoid them when you can
A gentleman will walk but never run.”

So, Strasbourg. Kay and I took a boat ride through the canals, and they have real canals here. The large tour boat we took had complimentary earphones and a guided tour, but the problem is that in Europe, things rapidly take a dark turn, as in, “The bridge we are now passing under was where they executed criminals, often by locking them in small cages and hurling them into the canal. Right downstream from the bridge is where they slaughtered cows, sheep, and pigs; unfortunately, this was just upstream from the public baths….” It only gets worse when they discuss the world wars.

We were right near the cathedral, so we thought we’d take a look. I was reminded of the first time we took Jon Mart to one in Montreal. I’ve probably mentioned this before, but when I say we are a secular family, I ain’t just whistlin’ Dixie. Jon must have been 4 or so and had never been to a religious service or house of worship. You never know what you say that is actually going to stick with your children. But at some point I quoted Salman Rushdie to Jon, and years later, he quoted it back to me:

“My parents gave me the gift of irreligion, of growing up without bothering to ask people what gods they held dear, assuming that in fact, like my parents, they weren’t interested in gods, and that this uninterest was ‘normal.’ You may argue that the gift was a poisoned chalice, but even if so, that’s a cup from which I’d happily drink again”.

We told him we were going to a cathedral, and he asked, “What’s a cathedral?” He looked confused and asked what that was. Kay told him it was a big church. Again, he looked confused and asked, “What’s a church?” Kay and I looked at each other, and one of us said, “We are going straight to hell, aren’t we?”

At any rate, we were impressed by the place. When we went to the Cologne Cathedral, it was so large side to side that I couldn’t get it into the picture. This time the problem was that it was so tall.

We did some more sightseeing and walked around Little France. But we left the USA on the 1st and it’s the 17th tonight. While I’m still the deadliest elderly forensic psychologist on the planet, and I’m not sure that Kay isn’t a cyborg, more than 2 weeks of pounding the pavement in Würzburg, Bamberg, Rothenburg, Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Salzburg, Colmar and Strasbourg can take a toll, and I’m plumb tuckered out; even Kay shows signs of fatigue. But we did accomplish one goal today; Kay has been wanting to try an Alsatian wine tasting since we got here, but we have been blocked at every turn. Either the places weren’t open, or a large tour was approaching. We decided to head for a pricey (by EU, not Portsmouth standards) wine bar. I had the saucisson sec à la truffe, and Kay had some sort of gravlax with roasted potatoes.

Then we asked our bartender if there was anywhere we could get a wine tasting/flight in the area. He told us there was one right around the corner. Who knew? We were offered a regular wine flight or the prestige flight; I was feeling saucy, so we went with the latter.

You know, one thing about getting older is that you finally come to terms with aspects of your personality and make-up. I’ve realized that while I can tell good wine from bad wine and a lousy cigar from a decent one, that’s as far as it goes. I don’t doubt that there are people with more refined sensibilities than mine. I even have good taste in some areas; for example, I have great taste in ceramics. But every wine I tasted tonight was good, and if someone had switched them when I turned my head, I’d have been none the wiser. But it was fun to try them. I was also impressed by their beer snack delivery system. Loaded Question and Liar’s Bench, take note:

Tommorow, we have some time to kill in Strasbourg and then we are going to stay in a hotel near the Frankfurt, thence home. Stay tuned.