Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Colmar
You can lose alot of things, traveling about like this. Somehow I was able to lose a day.
I could have sworn that today was the 30th and Lee and I had another entire day in Colmar, France before flying to Scotland, but it seems that I have officially lost my grip. It is the 31st today and my last day in France.
Let me tell you about Colmar. Picture gingerbread houses all stacked up beside one another with fronts so flat that you would swear they were set pieces from a local stage show. It is glaringly obvious that this little city is stuck between Germany and Paris and Venice and I enjoy this schitzophrenic charm. But that hasn't been the highlight really of Colmar. The highlights have been things much more simple.
Like heat in our suite. Like tons of hot water. Like a kitchen at our disposal. Like free internet. That is right. Free internet. Now, I know those of you who judge me for going to North American movies while in France are going to have a field day with this one. But being able to book the next leg of our journey without bundling up, speed typing and selling one's fertile eggs to pay for the 15 minutes of world wide web love has been a joy. A true blessing. And Leanne has been able to boil eggs which makes my cousin happy. And I like a happy cousin.
Not that we didn't try to experience Colmar's tourist delights. We went to the tourist centre to find that every single tour operator was on holidays. I was even thinking of going on a dog sledding excursion, but in broken English the woman behind the desk informed me 'no enough snow'. AND before I lost the day mentioned above, we were set to train our asses into Germany's Black Forest village of Titisee Neudstat on Titisee Lake for some true European wilderness. But none of it has happened and so we fly to Scotland tomorrow just glad that we were able to boil our own soup and content with having heard a French accordion player serenading the streets of Colmar this morning.
The real news is this: we have changed our flights and our coming home early. JoJo has not appeared to sweep us south into his Moroccan villa and so our bank accounts dictate that we end this madness a couple of weeks early. In some ways this makes me feel like I have failed this trip and in some ways I look forward to the chance to collect myself (and some Jax kisses and hugs) before relocating once again to Chemainus. It all happens for perfect reasons I remind myself.
So, tomorrow Scotland. Kilts and bagpipes and The Battle of Killiecrankie. And those accents. Ah, the accents.
That and a wee dram.
Whatever that is.
I could have sworn that today was the 30th and Lee and I had another entire day in Colmar, France before flying to Scotland, but it seems that I have officially lost my grip. It is the 31st today and my last day in France.
Let me tell you about Colmar. Picture gingerbread houses all stacked up beside one another with fronts so flat that you would swear they were set pieces from a local stage show. It is glaringly obvious that this little city is stuck between Germany and Paris and Venice and I enjoy this schitzophrenic charm. But that hasn't been the highlight really of Colmar. The highlights have been things much more simple.
Like heat in our suite. Like tons of hot water. Like a kitchen at our disposal. Like free internet. That is right. Free internet. Now, I know those of you who judge me for going to North American movies while in France are going to have a field day with this one. But being able to book the next leg of our journey without bundling up, speed typing and selling one's fertile eggs to pay for the 15 minutes of world wide web love has been a joy. A true blessing. And Leanne has been able to boil eggs which makes my cousin happy. And I like a happy cousin.
Not that we didn't try to experience Colmar's tourist delights. We went to the tourist centre to find that every single tour operator was on holidays. I was even thinking of going on a dog sledding excursion, but in broken English the woman behind the desk informed me 'no enough snow'. AND before I lost the day mentioned above, we were set to train our asses into Germany's Black Forest village of Titisee Neudstat on Titisee Lake for some true European wilderness. But none of it has happened and so we fly to Scotland tomorrow just glad that we were able to boil our own soup and content with having heard a French accordion player serenading the streets of Colmar this morning.
The real news is this: we have changed our flights and our coming home early. JoJo has not appeared to sweep us south into his Moroccan villa and so our bank accounts dictate that we end this madness a couple of weeks early. In some ways this makes me feel like I have failed this trip and in some ways I look forward to the chance to collect myself (and some Jax kisses and hugs) before relocating once again to Chemainus. It all happens for perfect reasons I remind myself.
So, tomorrow Scotland. Kilts and bagpipes and The Battle of Killiecrankie. And those accents. Ah, the accents.
That and a wee dram.
Whatever that is.
« Blog Home