And now, time out for our commercial sponsors.

I've been in Maussane since August 1st, so there are still a couple of weeks to cover before I am up to date, but this afternoon's blog is about stuff. I get a lot of comments and questions about travelling for such an extended time  through France with a large pet, as well as queries what do I actually do for the weeks I am on my own and so on. What do I do?!?!? I tour!!!! All day, every day until I get to Maussane!

We've been coming to France for a few summers, and this one marks our ninth at the Villa Jasmin, where the way we enjoy it best is to share it with friends. We always get a bit of time on our own mixed in with our visitors, and I am never ever happy to leave here. I spend the first two weeks prior to coming to the Villa J on a road trip, and have done now for many, many years.

 For seven of his 10 plus years, Finbar The Legend travelled with me, and now his successor,  Hanley, is here for his second Euro-jaunt.  Packing for six weeks for dog and woman-who-likes-options-in-her-closet-and-can't- survive-without-a-suitcase-of-books, is a challenge, plus the heat here is intense and has to be factored into planning. Hanley alone weighs 75 pounds, plus crate, plus his suitcase containing several weeks of dry cereal  (Lyall arrives later with more cereal to last the trip. Yes, they have dog food here, but do you really want me to go into details about Hanley's dietary/health history? Trust me, schlepping the right food is much much better than coping with six weeks of the wrong one), treats, leads, about 10 squeaky tennis balls, brushes, collapsable bowls. If you have been following this blog or FB, you know that I love to hike, so that means striking out into the morning before the heat gets too much for the hound, and here you need to do your homework and find a water bottle like this one, which clips onto my belt or waistband and makes me feel less guilty about dragging the boy off on what can sometimes be 12km or more:

Life-saving water bottle

And while I am on the subject of water, here is a nifty thing my friend Jane Osler put in my Christmas stocking a few years ago:

She found it at The Gourmet Warehouse. Even though at most French restaurants and cafes the dog is presented with a bowl of water before I am given anything at all, there are times you need this amazingly simple, yet fantastic thing.

And still on the subject of water and packing, and I am almost embarrassed to share this (but I know I must because there have been witnesses), one of the things I had to pack was:

Yes, a life jacket for the dog. The only Irish Water Spaniel in the world who won't go into the water unless it is a calm lake. We tried and tried last year to help Hanley cool off, but whereas much of his predecessor's legend came from his love of belly-flopping into pools, plunging into fountains (some embarrassing moments there), leaping into an  inflatable above-ground pool (more embarrassment, but thankfully no damage), running through and sitting on sprinklers, Hanley would have none of it and while we splashed and gamboled he would sit in the poolside shade and pant. I was determined to get him in this year, and while he may not like it much, once he's in he's fine - and cool, hurray! He's no Finbar, but he's much more comfortable than he was.

Electronics and gadgets used to interest me a lot more than they do these past few years, but I have become very fond of my iPad Mini and was using it quite a lot to take photos until one day, quite recently, it fell into the wrong hands, and in a near-suicidal attempt to return to me, it flew out of those wrong hands and into the road. It still functions, but sliding my finger across the screen is becoming dangerous. A paperless paper cut, if you will.

I'm not naming names, but someone here isn't allowed to use the Mini except under strict supervision.

Another gadget that I am enamoured of is the Jawbone UP bracelet: this is a wearable I learned about from Aliya Reynolds. This bracelet is tracking my every move, so to speak: it is a pedometer, a calorie counter (I don't use that application - yuck), but more importantly, it is tracking my sleep patterns. Over the years I have become a terrible sleeper owing to an accident many years ago and several subsequent years of trauma-drama. Not going into the years-long saga as that would be boring, but suffice to say, as I was on what turned out to be a slow road to recovery, Mother Nature decided I wasn't being tested to my limits and decided to do what She could to slow me down. Many, many years later, with all the other damage resolved, I still find it difficult to slip comfortably and remain in the arms of Morpheus for more than a few hours at a time. The UP band is giving me useful feedback on how long it takes me to fall asleep each night, how long I am sleeping deeply/lightly, how many times I get up in the night, how long I remain in bed once I am awake....and charting it on a trend for me. It is doing the same with my exercise: when you register your goals you learn that the average person would be doing their cardio health the world of good if they  were to take 10,000 steps a day: like an idiot I promptly set my goal at 15,000, which is very hard to do in the average day. For example, yesterday I spent most of the day here, only walking into the village to buy a few essentials, walk the dog a couple of times, but not far - and I only managed 2,525 steps. So this morning I was determined not to let another day like that slip by, and hiked 16,233 steps, or 7.5 miles. Uphill.  So the UP band is working as a great incentive for me, which surely can only improve sleep. There are more options attached to this thing, but these are the only ones that I am interested in at the moment.

I bought it online from Future Shop, and I think it was $179.00

On the subject of electronics, one of the things the two solo weeks gives me is the occasional early evening, thanks to weather, usually. This summer I was confined to quarters by torrential downpours in Beaune, but it gave me a chance to read and to watch shows I download through the year. I would tell you what I've been reading, but then this blog would wander into a book review and while it is tempting, I don't want people who know there are other things I should be spending my 

downtime' on, knowing what I was doing instead of those 'other things', nor do I have the time - I can barely keep up with  blogging what I am eating, never mind what reviewing my reading list!  Suffice to say, I am not exaggerating about packing a case of books, and don't even talk to me about e-readers: I get it, I just don't want it! But to give you some idea: over the nine Augusts we've had at the Villa Jasmin I have read a number of books in a wide variety of genres. I always try to pass them along to visitors but quite a few get left behind, and for some reason my landlord has saved them all on a table in the upstairs hall. I'm not sure why, perhaps he likes the idea of being able to offer his English speaking friends a book, or maybe he just likes the way they look, but here is what I would guess are about half the books I've read over the 8 and a half Augusts:

Movies I've watched this summer: during the big storm in Beaune I watched Audrey Hepburn and Fred Astaire in Funnyface. I had never seen it and it was just perfect for an early, rainy evening. A few days later I watched In the Loop, a British movie a friend recommended for my summer downloads: it was TOO TOO FUNNY! Like West Wing on steroids, or Veep to the power of ten, and I heartily recommend it. I was laughing like a loony and had to pause it a few times :)

TV: well, on this I am a bit slow: I didn't know The Office had ended, or when, but I downloaded some final episodes and enjoyed them both, though what I am really excited about is Luther, another Brit show with a central character I find very, very compelling. I've also downloaded Scandal, though the first episode didn't do much for me. No more time for watching things now, though. I have too much happening back home I need to work on, plus this %^$* blog I've committed to.

And, finally, the last but most important gadget has to be the GPS, or "the marriage saver" as OMBO likes to call it. The one I'd had for many years went on strike when I landed in Frankfurt, so getting to my first hotel was quite a bit of 'by guess and by golly', thus when the very kind person at the front desk offered to have someone get me a new one from the local burg, I jumped at it, and oh, what a relief!

And before I sign off, this would be the appropriate place to say a HUGE thank you to Matt Ion, for helping me along the blogspot pitfalls.

Next post: All Maussane, all the time! Right now, it is time to have a cooling off swim and then head to the village for dinner: I must re-focus all my energy on Eating for Canada!!

Queries? Objections? Corrections?

Please post comments and I shall endeavour to improve.

Installment V

At two plus weeks behind and now that 'Provencal Paralysis has set in, it will be a challenge to remember all that I have eaten for Canada, but on a 36C day without a breath of a breeze, it seems a good time to sit down with the laptop and try to bring this blog up to speed.

I left off at Beaune, from whence I travelled to my first stop in Provence, Valaurie. It was about 3.5 hours, so I enjoyed several stories by David Sedaris en route. In many of his tales he talks about the years he and his partner Hugh owned a house in Normandy. They also lived in Paris, so Normandy was their bolt hole in the countryside. He had the funniest essay about his relationship with his Paris dentist and his periodontist, and I was in stitches as I drove along the Autoroute du Soleil. He talked about entertaining visitors in their rustic Normandy cottage, and about the village that is so small they don't have a daily or even a weekly local paper, but a monthly, and how, inevitably, everyone is featured in it. I was reminded of an earlier work of his where he tells the FUNNIEST story about trapping mice at their cottage, and I think the title of that essay was 'Nuit of he Living Dead' from "Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim", which I listened to a couple of summers ago and it left me with sides sore from laughing and tears running down my face.

Ah, the Autoroute du Soleil, how I love you: once I join that motorway I feel relaxed and happy that I will soon be in my favourite part of the world. This year I broke my journey at Valaurie, which is near Grignan, (one of last summer's stops), in the Drôme district. I arrived at my hotel, Le Moulin de Valaurie, which is beautifully situated about 25 minutes off the motorway, surrounded by fields of sunflower and lavender. It is a bit isolated and very pretty, with a large garden and very substantial, simply yet elegantly decorated, rooms. I was shown to one with its own outdoor terrace and access to the garden, which is always pleasing to someone travelling avec un chien. Lunch was another pot of yogurt and an apple in the car en route, so when I arrived I was more than ready to sample the hotel's alfresco dining, and it did not disappoint. the menu is quite nice, with lots of vegetarian but not much in the way of fish options. I enjoyed a lovely eggplant appetizer and for my main course I ordered the pintade (guineafowl), which was served hot and fragrant with garden fresh herbs, honey and preserved lemons. I kept things modest for the cheese course, sampling two local chevre before moving on to a chocolate concoction I found unremarkable. The service was very polite and efficient, but lacked any warmth. But the hotel and the meal were very affordable, and in a gorgeous setting, a lack of warmth in the service and reception can be forgiven. Below are some pictures of Le Moulin de Valaurie.

Awoke energized the following morning and headed off through the sunflower fields toward the elevated village, but did not take my camera, so no photos of the glorious fields: use your imagination! The village was about 2km away and no monument or ruins to regard, about 500 people.....but I only saw about 4 of them that morning :) Back to the hotel for a light breakfast of the usual French continental variety.

Here is a bone I have to pick with France: I don't drink coffee, never have, but when I am here I occasionally order a chocolate chaud, but without exception everywhere I go it is served to me with boiling water and a sachet of cocoa powder. Now, wouldn't you think, here in the land of very serious coffee drinkers, that it would be served with hot milk? And maybe, if they really want to make it right, use melted chocolate instead?! How hard can it be?! So disappointing. Maybe I just don't stay in the right places!

So, in the car and off to Marseille - hurrah!

I had wanted a night in Marseille just because I normally only see it from the airplane as we take off or land, and though I've had a few dinners there, I've never really spent much time looking around and this is the year Marseille is the France Capital of Culture. Now, because the weather is very, very hot, and because I am staying in hotels and traveling with a dog who can't be left alone in said hotels, nor the car, visits to places like museums are out of the question, but still, I wanted to nose around and see what was up in MRS!

Arrived at lunchtime at my hotel, the Hôtel la Residence Vieux-Port. The hotel is on the seawall, or embarcadero, or whatever you want to call it, and there is only one space to stop and unload, which was done very quickly before I was sent down the street to the underground lot about 5 minutes walk away. Down, and down and down I went looking for a spot, then made a point of writing my space number down to avoid disaster the next day. The hotel could not be better situated, is modest but very up to date and well priced. When I was shown up to my room on the 7th floor I could hardly believe it - the view!!!

The heat was over powering, it must have been around 39C that afternoon, and as I gobbled a quick lunch at the cafe by the hotel entrance, the poor dog kept trying to get away from me to return to the air-conditioned lobby of the hotel. (He long ago figured out the electronic eye sliding doors so common here). I dragged the poor thing around for a walk, did a bit of shopping, but we both returned to the a/c relief of the 7th floor to recover and gawp at the incredible view.

But Bistro Baby is here to eat for Canada - and that is the main reason I opted for a night in Marseille: I adore bouillabaisse and Marseille is the HQ for the divine dish. We have always favoured Michel's in the Catalan for this fishy feast, but this time I was here to eat at Chez Fon Fon. I had a decision to make: the rest was 3 km away on foot, so would I (we) walk it or find a dog loving cab driver to deliver us there? Not a tough decision: I am a walker and I had read that finding this place was a challenge, so that meant I had to take it on. As the afternoon heat slowly eased,  Hanley and I walked from one end of the Vieux Port to beyond the other end, a gorgeous, stunning walk past thousands of tethered boats and yachts, huge hotels,  acres of beaches, thousands of tourists and then into the Catalan with all the seafood cafes and restaurants that make this area so alive and compelling. Tipped my hat to Michel's and kept walking as the road became more vertical and turning in directions away from the heart of the Catalan, and then, suddenly, I noticed the tiny passage (not a street at all) I had been watching for: into the shadows and down a very long, steep flight of stairs we went, and into.....

...a gorgeous but smaller version of Le Vieux Port. Like a pig hunting truffles, once I got to the bottom of the stairs I knew exactly where to turn and within moments was seated by a charming waiter in a delightful (air conditioned) room overlooking the wee harbour with a glass of champagne and  a large carafe de l'eau in front of me. Dog was grateful to see a bucket of water set down where he could reach it without having to move. A perfect start to what would turn out to be a meal well worth the effort it took to get there.

The wait staff were excellent recommending an excellent sparky little  Côtes du Rhone to accompany my meal and I eagerly awaited 'the presentation': this is when they bring you a basket containing all the fish going into your bouillabaisse, glistening and fresh as can be. The waiter had very subtly advised against an entrée as I had a very major plat to get through and I agreed with relief. As I waited for my dinner I enjoyed the view and watched as several small boats and their parties arrived and departed. I was charmed by one young couple, obviously on a date, who pulled up in a small motor boat, tied up,  wandered away, reappearing a few minutes later with a large pizza and a bottle of wine then casting off and into the harbour for a romantic sunset dinner cruise á deux.

And then - time for the main event!

Ohhhhhh..................it was too, too good. And unlike other places that serve this dish, here they return to you as they see your broth disappearing and top you up with more of the luscious, hot nectar. I was greedy, eating as slowly as I could manage  and it was no hardship to eat all the fish, a LOT of broth, most of the rouille, but had to declare defeat when it came to the potatoes. 

The sun started to set and the sky lit up with so many pink and orange hues........when I noticed my waiter had whispered up to the table to offer dessert :) "Do you really recommend dessert?" I asked the tactful garçon, "..and if so, which one?" He answered: "the chocolate, Madame, it is inevitable". Inevitable?!?!?! Well, if you say so, who am I to interfere with the Fates?

Thank goodness I had the 3 km walk back to the hotel, that's all I can say. That, and thank you, Chez Fon Fon: expectations surpassed.

And here are a few photos as I departed CFF and walked back to the hotel. There is one of the JFK Monument all lit in green, and another rather blurry one of a seaside bistro and the Vieux Port - my destination - beyond.

And so, to bed.

Next day: return to Maussane-les-Alpilles.

Falling behind

I Eat For Canada is still in France, but 2.5 weeks behind in her blogging. But I will get right at it and catch everyone up, pictures and all.....first I have to digest my wonderful Market Day lunch.....

Is MY face red!

Gawd, so many typos it is almost unbearable to read this. I apologize to the two or three people actually reading this thing and shall strive to do better.

Beaune, finis

And so, that brings me to dinner on Monday night. As per usual, I left myself in the hands of the experts and duly trotted along to Caves Madeleine, in the Old Town. Also per usual, Hanley attracted a lot of attention, which I think is largely because he prefers to be the one in charge of his leash, so he carries it. This draws a lot of smiles and several times a day I am complimented on how well I've trained my dog, when I know it is the other way around. En route Monday he was startled mid-stream, shall we say, by another dog, dropped his leash and also his aim, which was a tad unfortunate for the leash.......but mostly for me. TIme out for a note from our sponsor: thankfully I had a new package of my fave L'Occitane hand wipes, and I gingerly dangled the leash from a now toweled hand before making him take it back. I was brooding over this a bit when I arrived at the new rest. It was tiny, a few tables for two at the front, the walls lined with wine bottles (as this is also a cave and they sell the stuff), but dominating the small space was a large, long table. I was invited to take my seat at the end, and found myself next to an Italian couple and across from the only other solo diner, a man about 38-40 who instantly went rigid with discomfort. One other couple were seated on either side of the Italians, and we waited for things to fill up. Fortunately, the man across was already through part of his meal, and he sat there nodding compulsively - like it was some sort of tic, but mostly kept his face dropped well down into his place setting. His fingernails were bitten down to the quick - quite painful looking. Well, I sat there and wondered what the drill is: the 3 staff sort of stood at the back of the restaurant, friendly but unmoving, as though they were waiting for a show to begin. I finally asked for an aperitif, then I detected a chalkboard menu: the Italian couple and the British one next to them chatted away to each other. I started to feel this could be a disappointment, but wonderful odours emanated, so I clung to hope while trying not to stare at the chewed up hands of my erstwhile dinner partner as he sawed away at his dinner. When asked if he would like to order dessert he adamantly declined, and once he was off things lightened up considerably......I started chatting with the couple next to me, who were on their first French vacation from Milan.  I ordered gazapacho (divine), Meursault (developing a bit of a pattern here), cabillaud (sea bass) and for dessert, something chocolate-y. He food was lovingly prepared and beautifully served. I would encourage anyone going to Beaune to spend an evening at Caves Madeleine.

We were having a lovely time and then another young man was seated across........ Stuart Douglas is a very friendly and amusing dinner companion: he has lived for many years in Dubai where he works for 'Chef Middle East LLC' and as I understand it, basically what he does is  import exotic comestibles for the very lucrative Dubai market. He buys mussels and oysters and cheese and wine and ham. In fact, he told us he was travelling with a leg of Serrano ham, though he had left it behind in the hotel. His backpack produced the fruits of a very successful wine tasting day.....three open bottles of wine and gifts of cheeses the makers had vacuum packed him. He had a lot of entertaining anecdotes about his buying trips, though this was a vacation and his first visit to Beaune. I was sorry not to have taken him up on his offer to us to share his wine and ham the following day, but I was hoping to be up with the birds for the 4 hour drive ahead. It was a hugely fun evening, and we roared with laughter a few times, the four of parting on the street to go our separate ways and into our separate holiday memories like old friends.  I suppose the restauranteur sees this happen every night at his family style table, but it was a delightful sort of alchemy. Next stop: Provence!

The man with the ham.

With new old friends.

Installment III, where I leave Germany and arrive in Beaune, France

Well this business of writing a blog is much more time consuming than I reckoned on, thus I fall many days behind. I Eat for Canada is many, many more meals ahead than today's journal can include, but let's give it the old college try. But before I leave Germany, allow me to provide a photo tribute of one of the greats, but they weren't open when I was in Baden Baden!

I got under way for the four hour drive to Beaune around 10 a.m. and enjoyed about 30 minutes of the gorgeous Black FOrest scenery before joining up with the Autobahn. As it was a Saturday I anticipated lots of weekend traffic, but it was smooth sailing al the way. I cracked open the David Sedaris audiobook and listened to two of the six cd's, a compilation of his essays read for the most part in studio, but some were recorded at live readings, and despite having already heard a couple of the essays at his Vancouver reading a while back, he had me grinning for a a couple of hundred kilometres. Stopping for gas and lunch (a pot of yogurt), I decided it was time for Jeeves and Wooster's brand of silliness, and so while Bertie babbled histrionically at Jeeves over the latest crisis with Aunt Dahlia (really, you have to be a fan to understand the characters
 I am discussing here, I am not going to actually describe the stories!), I was also soaking up the gentle shift in the topography as the miles fell away from the Allemagne to Burgundy, and crossing the (unmarked) border in to France I couldn't help but feel I was returning to the familiar embrace of my homeland away from my homeland.

As Otto guided me and my car full of characters into Beaune, I felt such a sense of deja vu. Lyall and I first came here about 30 years ago, and stayed at Le Cep, the hotel I was headed for. But I was also  here - sort of- about three or four (?) years ago though  it didn't go well, so this was my 'do-over' trip.

I came to France that summer a few years back with Finbar, and it was his last trip. I had arrived in Marseille and drove directly to a small hamlet near Valence, where I stayed at a restaurant hotel I have been to a few times and had looked forward to the meal I would have that first night, for months. It is a 3 star Michelin rest with a few rooms: they offer three tasting menus and I sat down in the dear and familiar surroundings  and placed my order for the seafood menu. As I waited for what I knew would be a flight into the most sublimes reaches of culinary dexterity, I realized I didn't feel like I was hungry....that I didn't actually feel I could sit up for very long....and I don't remember how I managed to get through the meal or even if I did. I drove off the next day for Beaune, but had to stop several times just to rest. I was booked into a B & B on the outskirts of the city, and arrived to find the temperatures had soared into the 30's, that my room was at the very top of the 4 story house and that I was clearly very, very unwell. I recall going to a pharmacy in Beaune and asking for throat spray, then returning to lie prostrate for several days, that is expect for walking the dog in the morning and again at night. I locked myself away and did not allow the house keeper in the room, just took the linens, because now, thanks to online diagnosis from by my friend Paula Gordon, I had to agree with her that I had H1N1. It was a brutal and forgettable week, and when it was over I was more or less ready to make my way, slowly toward the South and to Marseille airport where I collected Lyall and gratefully acceded all the driving to him. Thus, Beaune owed me a repeat visit.

And what a great visit it was: I had cut my stay at the V Hammer short by a night (the hotel is on a VERY busy road and there is a train track as well, so the noise was unbelievable: thanks to lack of a/c I had to sleep with the garden door open so was covered in mosquito bites), so three wonderful nights at Le Cep beckoned and I arrived in good time to devote the afternoon to walking the old town. Hot, though! I left my restaurant booking in the very capable hands of the hotel staff, and my first night did not disappoint as I was directed to the casual and elegant 'Restaurant Bistro D'Hotel'. As I walked in I was overwhelmed withe the fragrance coming form the kitchen: poulet de Bresse in lemon and olive oil.....ah, I could not let that go and so following an excellent gazpacho came the chicken and very creamy potatoes......ah, such simple bliss. I had first enjoyed an aperitif accompanied by some thinly sliced and oh-so-tender local ham.....no fish in sight for me tonight! The sommelier recommended an excellent Meurseult, and I am happy to report that the half bottle went down very easily! I small plate of cheese, just a few bites and then a couple of house made sorbets capped off a very happy return to Beaune. The service was friendly, efficient and yet unobtrusive. I walked back to the hotel in a state of pure joy and toddled to bed in a very contended state, looking forward to the day ahead when I would taste my way along the Route des Grand Cru.

Best laid plans: I awoke to thunder and the most impressive rain I have ever seen, which is something coming form a person who lives in a rain forest, for this was no steady day-long drizzle: this was full on thunder, lightening and pounding, punishing rain. The hotel supplied umbrellas but I had not packed a raincoat (nor had the dog), plus I was told some local roads were flooded outside the city, so that put paid to my day tripping. Even taking Hanley on his constitutional that morning was so messy I felt guilty about the number of hotel towels I was suddenly utilizing. I hung around doing some work at the computer, then braved the storm for lunch, returning wet and cold. At the lunch bistro, Hanley was obliged to sit in a puddle created by his own rain drippings, so I took this rather sad photo before my Soupe de Poisson arrived.

. Slowly, slowly the room began to smell of wet dog and the day darkened. I long, dull afternoon stretched ahead of me, so I shut down my mail programs and switched over to my movie downloads and there, waiting for just such an eventuality, was Audrey Hepburn waiting to help me kill a stormy afternoon. Funny Face was the perfect antidote, and by dinner time the rain had eased to a drizzle, so off we went to another local bistro, Le Gourmardin.

Charming, small, with cheerful service staff who decided, for some reason that I, with my large dog, must be seated at a table directly beside their bar, the central source of the kitchen action and a real bottleneck location once you've strewn 80 pounds of dog across the floor. Anyway - they were nonplussed, so I gave myself over to contemplating the menu while nursing my now 'usual' coupe de champagne. Now that I had more or less fallen of the fish wagon as well as the sugar wagon, I let myself be tempted by their home made duck terrine, and then enjoyed the fish f the day, a loup, served fragrant, hot and simple. A delightful strawberry tart followed, and again, the meal was greatly enhanced by some Meursault. I returned to Le Cep replete.

The next day was a great improvement, though cloudy, it was cool and a nice change. I decided to do the touristy thing and got aboard the:

A nice view just outside the Old Town perimeter

Add caption

I am not above doing the cheesy, touristic things - I love it!

Add caption

Weeping willows over a stream - is there anythingmore romantic?

Lunch that day was at a cafe called Fleury, a rather nondescript place, but a wonderful meal, and typically Burgundian: Oeufs Meurette and

a nice glass of Chablis, all to get me in the mood to head off to the Route Grand Cru, where I stopped in at the Chateau Meurseault (among others) to buy a bottle of the liquid white that had been bringing so much sunshine to my meals of late. As I was driving through Volnay ( and spare a thought for the hard working people at Volnay and Pommard, whose vines suffered total destruction in a bizarre hailstorm two weeks ago), the clouds released a little more fury, but it was all clear when I returned to home base. 

Time for my final night's dinner adventure in Beaune, and therein lies a tale. I will tell it later: for now I have to hit the road again, but I shall be back soon!

Installment II

So, where was I? Oh yes - dinner night two (everything is getting away from me now that I've been here 4 nights - hard to keep up with a blog, travel, eating, work at home, eating, dog, eating....navigation, eating)

For night two I wanted to go 'off piste' and asked the hotel to recommend a good local: she booked me at a place she said, with a significant glance at the dog  was a "nice, easy walk" for 7 pm. At 6:40 I presented myself and hound at her desk and awaited out direction interaction. She handed me a blurry Mapquest page which clearly showed my start and end points, and a lovely, wavy blue line between them and again she pointed out it was a "nice walk". And then I noticed at the top of the page it said "2km to destination, 30 minutes". Hmmmm. It is 30C and I am supposed to wander around vineyards?!?!?! Well, I could have taken the easy way out, but that would have been giving in and I am made of sterner stuff, so off I went, up hill and down dale, on gravel and cobblestones (I will attempt to post some pictures of the terrain). They weren't roads so much as paths for farming equipment, and I came across a lot of it working away. Several wrong turns and a couple of helpful cyclists later, I arrived at Schloss Valderons. The best I can say is "it's not the destination, it is the journey that counts", and as I hiked downhill en route to dinner, I was keenly aware that my journey back meant going UPHILL on a full stomach and with a glass or two of Riesling.......well after sunset. Dinner not worth mentioning and I think I can sum up the restaurant by sharing that as I finally stumbled into the parking lot I counldn't help but notice many signs directing the tour buses to their parking aprons.  Thus, a day that began with a 4-5 km dawn walk/run ended much the same way at 4 km in the prettiest setting possible. I would do it again, with better directions. Or maybe I would drive - not exactly the spirit of the Allied Forces, but easier on the feet.

Scloss Valderons - finally

Cobblestone path through the vineyards (yes, I know, another picture of Hanley, but what can I do?!? He doesn't have opposable thumbs, so I am never going to be in the frame).
 

Pre-prandial treats @ Burg Schwarzenstein

FIrst course: tomato variations

Dessert! Choclate, caramel. tobacco(!) and cherry lava.

The next night was dinner at the 'gourmet restaurant' at my hotel, and it was truly sublime, a tomato concoction that was an effort at molecular gastronomy that left the many varieties of tomato looking a bit tortured, but still - it was ART. My main course was something they called "ray wing", which I finally determined was skate: it looked and had the texture of cod cheeks and was served in a satay and amaranth sauce. The chef was not completely brave, though, and had a light hand on the flavours: he should have added a light touch of chili oil garnish on the satay sauce, but a nice effort. Did I mention dessert? At the end they presented a couple of plates of sweeties, but I could not face them and they were remained untouched in my room, but very pretty ornamentation.

And then it was time to change the scene, so the next morning off I went, thanks to my new GPS, to the Black Forest. I would heartily recommend the Burg Schwarzenstein, should you ever happen to be in the  area. Fantastic staff, if a bit malicious about planning your dinner commute. The parking lot was heaving every night with Maseratis, Porches, Mercs, and Rollers.......quite the sight. I don't know where the people were who owned them because the restos never seemed very full. But what a lovely hotel and well worth a detour.

I arrived the next day after a short drive of about two hours at the Villa Hammerschmiede in the town of Pfitzer-Sollingen - you must have heard of it, no? Well, you have now. Nice hotel in a terrific parkland property, but it has a major handicap in that it is on a very busy road that roars with traffic day and night, and the lack of a/c means one must sleep with the window open....plus there is a heavily used train track running through. I was to have stayed three nights but yesterday I clipped it down to two, as I am no good without sleep. 

Had a lovely meal in their casual restaurant, though the goat's cheese salad could have used more salad and less cheese, but the fish was interesting: it was called "fried meagre on the menu, and despite my wide range of experience with fish, this was a new one on me. It arrived looking like halibut and tasted similar, so I am going to assume it was a salt water fish (my server was not able to tell me). A disappointing dessert of pancakes and blueberries that could easily have been sooo much better served warm, and then the dog and I wandered off to check out the neighbourhood, which is something I always love doing. Hot, though - man!

Today was a very happy day trip into the heart of the Black Forest, one of the most beautiful drives I have ever taken myself on, with the ultimate goal of reaching Baden Baden for lunch. It was 35C in the shade, so I didn't linger over a forgettable repast which was  only made palatable by my first German beer in Germany :) I only realized a few hours ago that I failed to take a single picture, so I was obviously entrance by the scenery - oh, what vistas!! What a glorious road and dazzling little hamlets I dawdled through. I would love to come back.

I was about to describe tonight's meal when it occurred to me that this blog really should have been titled "A Pescatarian in Germany", as I can't seem to deviate from my fishy preferences. Tonight it was a rather stingy starter called "summer vegetables",  mostly micro and no greens, and turbot - I ADORE turbot. Another plate of post-prandial sweeties were delivered to my room while I aired the animal, who is so incredibly trustworthy.  I left him alone in the room this afternoon so I could go for a swim and didn't realize until I was well under water that I had left his suitcase with an open bag of his food directly a nose level: I opted to shrug off the inevitable damage and keep swimming, but returned to find he hadn't touched it! However,  after the walk tonight he made a beeline to the sweetie plate and wolfed at least two chocolates before I could lunge at the remains and stash them out of reach. 

Tomorrow I set the GPS for Beaune. And I have decided on the name for my new best friend: Otto. Really - what else could I have chosen :?? Night night.