Our time in France consisted of a quick journey to Strasbourg followed by a very leisurely meander through Alsace. So, as one may expect, our wine consumption increased significantly, the scenery became quite lovely, our waistlines expanded exponentially and our cycling pace slowed to glacial. We did not go off-road, nor did we wild camp. There were no serious hills to speak of. It was all pretty civilized and we basically settled in and enjoyed what the region had to offer.
The start of our time in France was characterized by the continuation of the canals we happened upon in Germany. And there were a lot of them. The first section of the ride was along an area where lots of people house boat and there really was not much there. There was, however, searing heat and a headwind to enjoy. That said, as we moved towards Strasbourg, the canals got more picturesque with lots of very cute towns and pretty canal houses. There was also some very excellent (read: absolutely next level) pastry to be enjoyed and, because I know what is important, for this alone, I would recommend a visit to Saverne. The town is actually very cute, but for sure my lasting memory of the place is the sensational Mirabelle and custard tart and the no less impressive pear and chocolate mousse gateaux we consumed while sitting in the sunshine taking a not very well-deserved break from cycling.
Our impressions of Strasbourg can be summed up thusly: (i) the city really is stunning; (ii) the vibe is excellent (think super cute terrace restaurants peppering the streets, a funky young population and lovely architecture); and (iii) it felt as if coronavirus was not a thing (certainly no effort was being made to wear masks or social distance here team). Notwithstanding the somewhat constant effort to try and create distance between ourselves and the throngs of people who seemed entirely unconcerned about the on-going pandemic, we really enjoyed our time in Strasbourg. We stopped for a couple of nights and basically spent our time sampling flammkuchen (wood fired bread with a crème fraiche sauce and various toppings – delicious if, perhaps, somewhat overrated for the price) and lots of local Riesling. Weirdly (or perhaps not so weirdly, I am not sure), they also had some of the best Turkish kebabs I have had in quite a while. In terms of activities beyond food consumption and wandering around looking at stuff, we did check out the main cathedral, which had some of the best stained glass we have come across (yes, occasionally we do go and see something cultural).
Onwards from Strasbourg, we entered the Alsace wine route. This region is obviously very famous, and rightly so. Notwithstanding the fact that Tom has zero appreciation for aromatic wines (“they all taste the same” and “it’s too sweet” being a somewhat constant refrain), he does (as we both do) have an enduring appreciation for a cute town, a family run establishment and vineyard scenery. Alsace really delivered this in spades.
There are an insane number of cute villages in Alsace. So, from Strasbourg, the towns with names I can remember include: Molsheim, Obernai, Barr, Sherweiller, Ribeauville, Hunwihr, Riquewihr, Eguisheim, Colmar, Rouffach and Cernay. There were many more through which we passed, but did not necessarily stop.
As there really was not too much variation of activity in this part of the trip (other than one morning where Tom convinced me to cycle up a massive hill to a castle that was closed on our arrival), I endeavour to recount a typical day below:
- Wake up slowly in a municipal campsite somewhere (these were quite cheap in France and, generally, relatively nice);
- Drink copious amounts of coffee;
- Source pastries for breakfast (I (unlike Thomas) have absolutely zero limit on the amount of viennoiserie (croissants, pain au chocolat and the like) I am capable of consuming for breakfast and, given that this deliciousness is often available for purchase at the aforementioned campsites, I participated in this French institution enthusiastically – it would have been rude not to);
- Pack up our bikes and, perhaps, start cycling (certainly never earlier than 11am, sometimes later);
- Cycle through a couple of towns taking lots of pictures;
- Find a family run winery at which to sample the local production (maybe around 12.30pm/1pm or so);
- Purchase a bottle of wine (in our view, etiquette of free wine tasting requires the purchase of at least one bottle and far be it for us to insult the lovely people carrying out such vital work);
- Find a vineyard in which to recline in the sunshine and consume said bottle of wine and whatever picnic items we were carrying;
- Cycle through a couple more towns before determining that further cycling seemed a bit too challenging (and occasionally being invited into someone’s basement or garage to sample their personal vintage);
- Locate campsite and purchase further bottle of wine to consume with dinner;
- Repeat.
This series of events was indeed then repeated for about a week. Cycle touring – as it should be! Unfortunately, we eventually ran out of kilometres to cycle in Alsace and it became apparent that we would shortly end up in Switzerland for the next leg of the trip. Notwithstanding that Switzerland is epic in its own right (more on that later), a sad day for sure.
In an effort at full disclosure, one negative gloss on the time in France should probably be mentioned. We have often heard in the past that if you do not speak French in France (and, worse still, speak English), French people will be particularly unhelpful. I, for my part, have never actually experienced this. I speak enough (very bad) French that, typically, on my launching into a conversation with any French person one of two things happens. One, if they do indeed speak English, they will happily (and promptly) suggest that we switch to English to save their ears from my enthusiastic butchering of their fine language. Two, if they do not speak English, they are generally happy enough to put up with my stumbling along in order to deal with whatever (no doubt) asinine request I happen to be trying to communicate as quickly as possible. So, suffice to say, my experiences in this regard have always been pretty good.
Not so for Thomas. On the odd occasion where he would go speak with someone to get a campsite or buy something, even though he would use the few words he knows in French and was completely capable of completing the task without relying on English (i.e., he has developed superior gesticulation talents after living in the middle east for so long), he was often completely ignored. After a few attempts he would leave and send me in. The person in question would then proceed have a bad attitude with me until they could no longer retain the façade that they did not understand. They would then, grudgingly, state – “Oh, you speak very good French” (of course, this is not actually true, but it is good enough that they could no longer pretend ignorance at any rate). What was particularly weird to us was that the main purveyors of this attitude problem seemed to be people in the tourist industry (campsite receptionists for example) – who you would think would be happy to assist tourists given the related income stream. Not so. In any event, we were very thankful for my long-suffering French teachers and tutors, because, although they had to put up with a significant amount of, shall we say, creative license in my learning and speaking the language, it did make our time in France (and, actually, in many other French speaking countries to date) a whole lot more pleasant.
So, while France and Alsace got a massive thumbs up from us – the place was really quite lovely, the scenery was delightful, the food was excellent and the wine was incredibly enjoyable (notwithstanding Tom’s total lack of appreciation) – sadly, the people were a bit of a mixed bag. We did have a lot of really great experiences, but a few bad apples can really wreck the general impression of a place and we definitely had a couple of more questionable exchanges.
July 2020