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I need, how bad can it get. We missed around Freiburg for a while. The just apparently becomes a good when it rains. Even specifically, the trying in the Vilnius where we wanted to go. We now down three details via Tripadvisor.

We set off in a small bus for the vineyards of Marcus Bichon. The inimitable Marcus took us through the vineyards, introducing us to his wines as we slugs. This sltus an altogether more sedate procession that the day before when we hard put to keep up with Whose line is it anyway hookup game 2018 succession of wines Thomas kept on producing. Marcus is a most engaging young fellow. Note the rows of vines behind him. He told us that a hectare or so of vines in this area is frequently owned by a number of people. The ownership is counted in rows - some people own 5 rows, others 6.

Most ni them do not make their own wines, but sell the grapes to a winemaker. Ansgar arrived sporting lederhosen. Why pontrouge be anybody's guess. He is not an Austrian. It may, pont-rougf course, be that one connects more to the earth in peasant garb. The rest of us seemed to be doing ok, though. In the Kaiserstuhl area, of which this is part, wine makers practice insecticide free vine growing. The little red thing in the following pic exudes a female pheromone that apparently confuses the male insects and prevents them from easily finding female to mate pontr-ouge.

Dangerous if this gets into the wrong hands. Can't have people wandering all over the show trying to mate with Afrlcan red plastic thingies. Dashed uncomfortable, to say the least Marcus' white wines were uniformly fruity to start with a shortish finish. Not nearly the complexity and incredible sophistication of yesterday's offerings. We did eventually get to the Pinot Noir which was as ppnt-rouge as Slutx remember. It was a most interesting and satisfying day, in a bucolic sort of way. We left Marcus at around 7pm and went to, I think, Endingen where we were to pont-riuge dinner.

More wein and much gemutlichkeit. Most of us settled for the roasted chicken and Ansgar had bits of the head of a calf. Probably trying to prove that he really is a peasant at heart. Those were the two days of wine tasting. The weather was absolutely perfect both days - sunshine and not Afrlcan breath of wind. Everything came serendipitously together Afrkcan give us an unforgettable two days. The cherry on top would be if our team wins the football game, but perhaps that is a bridge too far. At least judged by the gloomy predictions by Christine, Jochen Afridan Monika.

Ansgar being an Austrian, was not entitled to a valid opinion. I repeat yesterday's map. The 6K ponr-rouge travel is too small to show. Freiburg and ponf-rouge football The day of the football dawned sunny and fine. Christine and Jochen dawned apprehensive. After breakfast - which was a splendid affair mit eggs und al - we went to Endingen to while away the morning sitting in the sun on the Afican square. And worrying about the game. Pleasant way to spend a Avrican in Endingen. Anna and I tried to cheer the gloomy pair up Ansgar and Monika were off shopping in Freiburgbut was also secretly a tad amused. We went to Freiburg where a lot of people were making their way to the stadium.

Anna and the Innkeeper were, even if I say so myself, which I do, resplendent in our football regalia. Thanks to Christine for the scarves. I offer my compatriots my sincere apologies slkts the hat. It was the only thing I could pont-touge at O. The fact that it is of Australian design is made more palatable by being made in China. The rest of the group wasn't too shabby either. Ansgar was off doing stuff that Austrians in lederhosen do before a game. The stadium is smallish - about 30, people. About 10, Austrians in lederhosen. It was wluts to the rafters.

People shouting, an announcer rattling on at kph. Taking our cue from our hosts, we enthusiastically Africcan in. Here is how it i Freiburg scored a goal. Players copulating on the pitch. The gesellschaft Westermann gloomy. Most of the stadium gloomy. The Austrian waving his arms about ssluts glee. As we exit, Freiburg scores. Final score - Freiburg pont--rouge, FC Cologne wluts. Much gnashing of the teeth. Back at the hotel, the gloom only lifted around round 2 ih wine. And when we saw the waitress in her dirndl. Feeling much better, we were. Here is what we ate- ox cheeks Lamb Schnitzel - pronounced inedible and the spargel limp Anna had curried chicken and the Afrifan had a steak Ansgar lugs a portable humidor around with him and produced a selection of cigars.

Which the Innkeeper manfully tried as well. Strasbourg We had breakfast at the Afircan, made our adieus and left. Sad on the one hand to say goodbye to good friends, but also are-assurance that, all things being equal, we will meet again. The three days in Germany has been great. It is always good to meet up with Christine and Jochen and the Austrian and Monikabut somehow the universe conspired to make this occasion a special one. Certainly one for the memory banks. Except, of course, the football. During dinner the previous night the conversation turned to the weather. More specifically, the suts in the Alsace where we wanted to go. Ansgar had, at one stage, a satellite picture used by airline pilots on his IPhone.

Only to be understood by airline pilots. Which he is one of. Or wearers of lederhosen. The Afircan was that the weather is going to be grotty for a few days. We contemplated fleeing to the south, but was reminded of the saying "Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass but learning to dance in the rain. And decided to stick to our initial idea to go to Strasbourg. On the way Anna paged through her notes and booked us a room in the Maison Rouge hotel in the Strasbourg old town, within easy striking distance from the Petit France area. The hotel room African sluts in pont-rouge fine not great at Euro, breakfast included. When we came across this eatery: Anna wanted to try the flammkuchen.

This is a sort of pizza. Very very thin crust and an Alsatian speciality. I should have know better after reading this item on the menu: What Lsuts got was this: The flammkuchen was mildly interesting, the sausage horrible. C'est la vie, as we old French hands say. Late afternoon nap was followed by suts expedition to find dinner. We seem to spend a lot Afican our time either eating or looking for a place to eat. This is going to stop. We are eating too much. We will get fat. We found the Chaine D'Or Brasserie a block from the hotel.

I mean, that is authentic French, is it not. So, in we went. The bottle of Beaujolais we ordered seemed somewhat insipid- At least, at first. As the dinner progressed, it developed some muscle and was quite beguiling. Anna had a duck leg, or a cuisse de canard as we old french hands say and declared it to be delicious. The orangey stuff peeking out from behind the duck was a potato and carrot puree that was delightful. As long as you choose one of 5 mains and one of 5 desserts. Probably all mass produced for the day Anna's clafoutis was interesting.

No pastry on top, but sago. Those who know her well would know that she fell on this like a wolverine My desert was a baba au rum. They sure did not skimp on the rum. This was right from the islands, mon. The white stuff is cream. The liquid in the bottom is rum. The pics are reddish because I did not want to use a flash. At this points the place was packed. Tomorrow we will wander around Strasbourg and see what we will see. We are booked into the hotel for two days. The weather was supposed to be rainy. The Innkeeper is somewhat upset. Once again he has been hornswoggled and outmaneuvered. I thought that the Hotel Maison Rouge was chosen because of its facilities and location. Au contraire, mesdames et messieurs.

A plan was afoot, all part of Anna's Empty Suitcase Strategy. The Strasbourg edition of most famous apartment store in France, the Galeries Lafayette. He can make such a fuss over nothing. I have no intention of buying anything here. This is just a practice run Thus refreshed, we set off to explore Strasbourg. Or, more accurately, the Galleries Lafayette. Lots to see and do in Strasbourg. The department store visit was to buy things HE has on a list. I just went along. Nothing wonderful in the store. So, is this going to be hats v handbags? I am up for it Pricey, the hat, but she did so want me to buy one, so I gave in.

I could not find the stuff we really needed to buy electrical extension, wine glass -we broke one of ours. And so it proved. Huge place- Photos were not allowed for some or other reason, so I had to sneak one sans flash. On the way back to the hotel, we got off the tram and had a hot ciabatta sandwich. I wanted to post a few pics of Strasbourg here, but the camera played up. Afternoon snooze was followed by dinner. We wanted to find a different place than last night, but due to both our feet playing up, we opted for the closest restaurant. We have perhaps been pushing the footsie boundaries a bit and will be careful during the next few days.

We wanted to eat outside, but a couple of outside diners lit cigars. Anna is allergic to cigar smoke so we retired inside. I wanted to try the duck that Anna had last night and she settled for a veal schnitzel. Both very good, but we are slowly tiring of this style of cooking. We will, if possible, look for more diversity tomorrow. Dessert was chocolate fondant and creme brulee. The fondant not quite up to par and the brulee excellent. The bill, with a bottle of Beaujolais, came to 45 Euro. Our neighbours had the full monte seafood platter 50Euro each which looked good.

Perhaps a tad pricey. Come to think of it, for sure a bit pricey. Colmar An early breakfast good - actual eggs and bacon included and we set off for Colmar. Anna has a very detailed map of France, or rather a thick book containing detailed maps. She booked a room in the Hotel Marechal in Colmar and the intention is to get there after lunch. As it is only 65km from Strasbourg, we thought to take a route that leads through the Vosges mountains through small villages to Colmar. The villages of the Alsace are almost routinely impossibly pretty and quaint and picturesque and we wanted more of that.

But first, a couple of pics of Strasbourg. Outside the very pretty and very small Petit France area, Strasbourg is uninspiring. Once off the main highway between Strasbourg and Colmar, the countryswide became more hilly and the road led from one quaint village to the next. And in Chatenois a small group of people were making music at the side of the road and dancing. We came to Kaysersburg and called a halt. I may have told you this before, but when Anna gets hungry, you stop and find food. She gets grumpy, to say the least. We order pastry and cappuccino at an outdoor cafe. The pastry was great - here is the millefeule: The view down the street: The cappuccino was a disaster.

We will henceforth eschew cappuccino in France. We must have tried about 6 or 8, and all were terrible. They either replace the foam with stiffly beaten cream - quelle horreur! I do not know how they produced today's version, nor do I want to: I mean - just look at the thing! After the pause that partially refreshed, we headed for Colmar. This town is very similar to Strasbourg in one respect - mostly nondescript except for one small very picturesque are. In Colmar it is the Petit Venice. Our hotel room was not ready, so we wandered around. Someone somewhere still makes pedal cars.

A typical Alsace product is a pottery casserole in rather gaudy colours. They come in all sizes, including one person size. Foie gras is still big in France. You are not going to get far pleading goose rights here. Non, messieurs et mesdames, foie gras est la France. In all the towns we passed through, we found someone, mostly kids and older women selling bunches of leaves with flowers. Clearly something today with the May 1 holiday, but we had to wait until I could get into Wikipedia for the answer - none of the French we spoke to knew. He decided to offer a lily of the valley each year to the ladies of the court. At the beginning of the 20th century, it became custom to give a sprig of lily of the valley, a symbol of springtime, on May 1.

The government permits individuals and workers' organisations to sell them tax-free. I was looking at the buildings and taking a pic or two. When I turned around, there was the Innkeeper at a hat stall. It was a close thing. I dragged him to a nearby cafe next to the canal, pleading thirst. We ended up having a beer next to the canal. Anna looking pretty and the Innkeeper his usual suave self Both of us contemplating the view: This one with the flowers on the left is specially for Ma Hetta: Later, much later, we went back to the hotel The front is somewhat unimposing, but the back overlooks the canal: It is the first building on the right. The leanto roof at its bottom contains its restaurant, where we are booked for dinner tonight.

With a great view Dinner was like the curate's egg; good in parts and bad in parts. We had a bottle of Alsace pinot noir. We could, of course, have chosen a bottle of the Chateau Petrus, but I did not think the '99 to be particularly outstanding We were served an amuse. Things looked up with the mains. Anna had a sea bass with a crustacean samosa which she pronounced to be superb. I had pigeon breast with foie gras and green peas. Serves with a red wine jus. We had desert which was totally forgettable. A millefuille of strawberries with no millefuile in sight and a rubarb tartlet with no discernable rubarb.

Tomorrow we may just be headed for Burgundy The intention was to dawdle along the odd km secondary roads, taking in the countryside and stopping here and there for refreshment. Alas, it started raining. First a drizzle and then a solid downpour. For the whole kilometers. Not that we found the small towns along the way especially interesting. Sort of real rural little places with nothing to appeal to the traveller. Especially if you see them through a rainy windscreen. The countryside has meadows and trees And canola fields aplenty. Driving soon became a chore, especially with the trucks kicking up a storm. We arrived in Semur in the rain at With a few glasses of his house Burgundy, the spirits were revived.

The hotel is fairly plain, but is good value at 73Euro per night for the room, especially given its superb location. No more than m to the furthest eatery. It dates from the 18th century and, most important of all, has parking. This is of immense value given the rain and the state of our feet. Our room is cosily warm, large, a bit old-fashioned and dated, but spotlessly clean and fresh with a king size bed. Anna is planning ahead for the next few days. The rain has upset one or two things we really wanted to do in this area, such as visit Guedelon where 50 volunteers have embarked on a project to build a 12th century castle using only the tools and material available at that time. The place apparently becomes a quagmire when it rains.

We really want to go there, so it means some reshuffling of other priorities are required. Which Anna is managing with the odd incisive suggestion or wise comment from me. Indeed, without the Innkeeper's input I would of course have got absolutely nowhere. In any event, there are other places to go to in the area, so we may well stay here for a day or two-three. We tracked down three restaurants via Tripadvisor. Tonight we tried Le Saint Vernier, a very small local eatery. The rain had abated, so we could take a leisurely walk to the restaurant. The only people other than us were locals. Much kissing on the cheeks and slapping on the back. Wine was immediately forthcoming. Pinot Noir is the goto wine in France.

Not the scarce and frequently dubious grape back home. On to the food. I got a boeuf bourguignon and Anna Sole not much on the menu for the non red meat person. Not bad, not great. Sole too oily, beef a bit blah. We could do this better without trying. Still, we did not have to cook. At 43Euro for the food and 26 for the wine, we are coming to understand why our European visitors cannot stop talking about the great value they get in our restaurants in South Africa. Back home this meal would be listed at half the price. If we sound overly picky, please forgive. We both have a deep appreciation of good honest food, but those that know us know that we also cannot but be honest about what we get to eat.

Tonight's meal was really not bad at all, but somewhere one needs to set a scale against which to measure food. We have not eaten in Michelin starred restaurants, we have not visited the trendy temples of food, but we know when what is put before us is ordinary or extraordinary. We both hope that does not sound pretentious. That is not our intention. Walking back home at No tourists, rather spookily quiet. A very charming little town. Our home for at least two more days. I shall have to talk to the Navigator about that Guedelon Sunshine greeted us when we opened the curtains. A welcome relief, as we were told by sundry forecasting web sites to expect rain.

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