France 2008 - Arles, May 22

Our last day in Arles. We thought we would take the bus to Aix for the day but when the alarm goes off at 6 am, we roll over and go back to sleep, thinking, we are on holiday after all. Eventually we go out for breakfast, get souvenirs and decide to take in some of the museums left on our museum pass. First, two places we visited but I forgot to write about until now.

The Musee de l'Arles Antique is all about the ancient past of Arles (as the name implies) and contains all sorts of things dug up like floor mosaics (which were stunning, by the way). I recommend a visit just for the history of it all. It was mentioned in our France for Dummies book and they said it was "a long dusty walk west of the old city". We studied our ever-present map of Old Arles and while the museum is clearly indicated, it doesn't really show how to get there, because you have to cross a major autoroute/bridge getting out of the old city. We'd walked along the wall by the Rhone a few times but once we got to the autoroute/bridge, we stopped and turned back.

This time, we carried on walking and saw there was a road under the autoroute as it turned into a bridge. We had to abandon the gentility of walking on old narrow and quieter roads and venture out into a place where pedestrians were an afterthought (if they were thought of at all, really). As avid cyclists back home, we are certainly not afraid of traffic but it is noisy and dirty. After we walked under the bridge, we passed a wine co-op which looked deserted but I suppose it only gets used in the Fall at harvest time. Then we passed a skateboard "park" which is actually noted on the map. It had one small curved ramp and it was covered in graffiti. Other than the graffiti, there was no evidence it was ever used. Now, if you wanted to encourage your young people to do their skateboarding in one controlled spot, why would you ever build something remote, ugly and small like this and put it where no one would ever go, except to spray paint on it in contempt? Talk about not involving the stakeholders.

As we rounded a bend in the road, we were startled by the modern appearance of the museum of antiquities. It is a giant blue metal structure, all angles and blank surfaces. I guess it works in its own way. But it is also isolated outside the city, with nothing else around it to see or do (unless you are a skateboarder, I suppose). It was still a ways off and as we plodded along the dusty walkway, we passed the excavation of the ancient Roman Circus which was interesting in itself to look at. When we finally got to the museum, a bus full of small children was disgorging its contents and although we beat them in to the building, they haunted us around the exhibits, their voices echoing along with their extremely loud efforts to shush each other.

Speaking of art, I also forgot to mention what was almost performance art, or at the least, social commentary art. We often would go down to the Rhone and walk along the wall from one end of the Old City to the other. One day, we spotted GOLD dog poop!

That's right, someone had collected a nice sampling of large breed dog poop, painted it gold and then reassembled it in at least three different locations along the wall. It made me laugh out loud when I saw the first batch of it and by the time we saw the third batch, it had become apparent that someone was making a statement. I thought it was fabulous and hilarious at the same time.

I did have to poke it with a stick to see if it was real on the inside and it was. I never knew if anyone else remarked on it or if it got written up in the local paper (was there a local paper?) but I applaud the efforts of the artist.

The next place I forgot to mention was also a bit outside of the walled city but you only had to cross the ring road boulevard to get there and it seemed more pedestrian-friendly. This was Les Alyscamps, an ancient burial ground from at least Roman times. According to my guide book, the Romans avoided the place at night so early Christians met there in secret. Vincent VanGogh also painted a picture of people strolling there in his time and there is even an "easel" set up with that painting on it, to show his vantage point (as there is at the Cafe au Nuit and the other places around Arles where VanGogh painted now famous scenes).

What I found interesting was the apparently discarded carved stone bits outside the church. The church itself is beautifully lit and serene and seems to be in the process of renovation. So maybe what appears to be pieces of Roman columns aren't supposed to be there. Maybe they'll be taken to the Museum of Antiquities later?

So, back to May 22. We went to the Foundation VanGogh , which was NOT on our museum pass. Many of the artists shown at the Foundation were asked to do an homage to Vincent in 1988 and these works are shown here. There are also a few pieces from before and after that year, done by other artists as an homage, and collected for the Foundation. I enjoyed seeing what artists would imagine as an homage and found it quite inspirational. It is a fairly small collection which can be seen in a short time and there are many things to buy when you leave, if you want.

Finally, we went to see what was at the Musee Reattu, since it was right across the street from our hotel. The museum was named for its owner back in the late 1800s, Mr. Reattu. There are many of his paintings there - he was a classically trained figurative artist who painted large allegories, among other things. But his bigger claim to fame was that he collected work from contemporary artists such as Picasso and so there is an eclectic mix of work there, including some very modern pieces collected by the museum as it now exists. The current exhibit shows the work of the couturier Christian Lacroix from the last 20 years or so. Some of the outfits were clearly runway fantasy pieces but I enjoyed examining the workmanship and appreciated the effort that went into creating each garment.

France 2008 - Arles, May 21, our anniversary

Today is our 26th anniversary. We were supposed to go on our "big trip to Europe" for our 25th but this will do, now that we are here. It's a Wednesday and our map says there is another market on Wednesdays, only on a different section of the big ring road boulevard. We had already walked down that section, looking at the ancient walls of the city from the outside.

We had also come upon one of the cemeteries of the city and spent quite a while there, quietly walking around the many above-ground mausoleums. Some graves were obviously visited frequently but others had had no one come by in years. I have not been to New Orleans but it reminded me of that cemetery style, with everything in crypts.

This time, we decided to go straight to the market and get our breakfast there and much to our dismay, we found out this was a junk-only market with no food at all. By the time we discovered this, we were tired, cranky, and caffeine deprived so we walked back into the Old Arles and found a small "tabac" that sold cafe and croque monsieurs. I remembered croque monsieurs from my days in Belgium back on the 70s and they are still bread with some cheese and maybe something else on them. Not too exciting but better than no food.

We decided to do laundry, in spite of it being our anniversary. We had found a coin operated laundromat (laverie automatique) the previous week and had determined that we would do two laundries while we were in Arles, timing the second one so that we would have enough fresh clothes to get us through Paris and home again. This was Wednesday and our travel day to Paris was Friday so we figured it would be a good time. There really weren't enough shirts and underwear and socks to justify a full load but when you travel light, you do laundry when you can.

We got back to the laundry, after our late and unsuccessful breakfast and no one was there yet. You put your clothes in the chosen washer (a front loading machine) and then go buy the soap by hitting certain buttons on a wall mounted machine and then putting in the money it told you (30 cents). Then you choose your machine on the same gizmo and put that money in (3 Euros). Then you set your watch and go have a coffee or something in the Place Voltaire, which was very close by. By the time the laundry was done and we'd taken it back to the hotel to hang and fold, it was lunch time.

We had rediscovered where the fabric store was that I had seen on the first day we got to Arles and looked around. It was just off the Place Voltaire, heading away from the Arena and toward the old walls. After lunch (at which I fed the black Lab again), I left Peter in the Place having a glass of wine and I headed over to the fabric store where I took my time and bought 16 metres of fabric of different patterns - 2 of this, 4 of that. The woman cutting the fabric was very nice but she didn't speak any English so our conversation was a little limited. As she finished cutting the last few metres, I started looking around for a sign by the cash that said "Visa" and had a sinking feeling when I saw no such sign. I asked her if she took Visa and she looked at me surprised and said "of course not".

So I told her I would be right back with cash. She actually looked like she believed me - she didn't look worried. But I would have been worried if I were her, cutting all that fabric and then not being prepared to take plastic from an obvious tourist. Yikes. I literally ran back to the Place and found Peter chatting with some Americans. I gasped out that I needed 142 Euros and fast! He actually had the cash on him, so we didn't need to go to an instant teller.

I ran back to the store and paid for my purchase. I was relieved that she acted as if this was normal but I was amazed at the same time. I toted my fabric back to the Place and sat while Peter introduced me to what appeared to be a mother and daughter from the States. They were good friends, as the older woman's now late husband had taught the younger woman in high school. The younger woman was a chef and she was taking a working holiday by teaching cooking at a B&B in Arles for a few months and so the older woman was staying there too. They were very pleasant, tres gentil.

We stay for a while in the Place and then make our way back to the hotel to drop off the fabric and change for dinner. We decide to go back to La Gueule du Loup for a second meal, as the first one had been so wonderful. We discover the menu is the same so we order something different and enjoy it just as much. One of our desserts had lavender flavoured ice cream in it, something we had never had before. We toast ourselves - to another year.

France 2008 - Arles, May 20

Some more observations:

Most cars and especially larger vans have scrapes and dents down the sides. Not so much on the fenders front and rear but the sides are often bashed in. It is not surprising, given the narrow streets, many bollards and the tendency of every driver to think he or she has the right of way at all times. There are many one-way streets but people park in them (only temporarily!) and two cars often don't fit abreast. They love their mobility but maybe they don't care so much about the car. Since they don't have the road salt issue we have in Canada, they must not get rust like we do, so they don't fix up the dents so readily. Interesting.

We were sitting as is our wont, in the Place du Forum and suddenly we were invaded by Les Anglais. About a dozen loud people arrive and promptly rearrange the patio furniture. The fat and old ones sit down, the others mill about. We ask our waiter, "hey, les Anglais sont faire du bruit. Q'est que c'est ce passe?" and he replied that they had been to a wedding recently and seemed to have enjoyed the local wine.

Another Place to hang out is the Place Voltaire, cheaper than the Place du Forum and with mature trees shading it. This is where we discover that the classic Clouseau line really does work in France!

We're sitting at a table having a substantial salad (7 Euros) and white wine for lunch. We notice a black Labrador (an un-neutered male) slowly walking around the tables. No collar, a bit of white at his muzzle, lovely brown eyes. He's not casing the joint, he's just looking for likely customers. I make eye contact but he seems to know that Peter has asked me not to feed him (right then, anyway) and so he walks off. (I was going to write "wander" but he has more purpose than that.)

Eventually I decide to give him a little crumb of baguette (after we have finished our meal - that was Peter's stipulation), after I see he has not got anything from other patrons. I make eye contact again with him when he is a few tables away and he slowly but deliberately walks over. I hold out a very small piece of bread and say, "asseyez-vous". He does not seem to know "tricks" and drool slowly drips from the back of his mouth. I give him the bread anyway. He politely takes it and eats it. I give him several more tiny pieces and ask him to sit each time, but he does not. Then I hold up my now empty hands and say "c'est tout" and he sits.

I take his photograph and he poses nicely for me. Then he gets distracted by some other people and I lean in for a close-up and I can almost hear him say "Yikes!" at the look of me, too close and with a camera in front of my face, so he gets up and moves on.

So polite! Si gentil!

So, now for the Clouseau line:
Clouseau, seeing a man with a nice looking dog, asks, "does your dog bite?"
Man, "No."
Clouseau pats dog who snarls and bites him.
Clouseau, "I thought you said your dog did not bite!"
Man, "That's not my dog."

France 2008 - Arles, May 19, evening - eating out

When we got back to Arles Monday evening, we decided to try out a restaurant that Peter had noticed while we were walking one day, and which was mentioned in our "France for Dummies" guide book. Nothing is very far in Old Arles and this place was just across the big boulevard "ring road" where the market had been on Saturday. After a shower to wash off all the dirt that had blown on us from the day, we headed out only to find that this restaurant was closed. And it looked closed permanently, even though there was no sign one way or the other.

Momentarily nonplussed, Peter decided we should try out the hotel restaurant at the Jvles Cesar, as it too had been mentioned in the Dummies book and noted as one of the best restaurants on all of France, not just the south. We plodded up the road, hungry and tired and peered in the windows at the Jvles Cesar. It was only about half full and most people in there had ties on. The wait staff was dressed very properly in black and white. And the doors off the terrace where we had approached it were closed. We turned to see if we could access the restaurant from the hotel, when one of the doors opened and a waiter called out, "Bon soir, monsieur!" It turns out they had only closed the doors because of the ferocious winds and we would be more than welcome, tie or no tie.

We were seated at a nice table by the window and given menus. Descriptions of the food looked good and while expensive, it wasn't prohibitively so. We decided on the prix fixe, made our choices and ordered a bottle of wine. We had been trying to drink local wines exclusively and it is never difficult to find a delicious, reasonably priced bottle anywhere. Our waiter was quite chatty and spoke English very well. We noticed that everyone else in the room was an Anglo of some sort. The food was very good and nicely presented and when we made our choice for dessert and I selected a plate with four tiny, different things on it, they gave me extra. I'm not sure why - I think by then we had mentioned it was our 26th anniversary (in 2 days, actually) or maybe it was because I said "mmm" out loud a fair bit while downing the dessert.

I haven't been writing much about our meals but of course, we have to have three every day in restaurants of some description because the hotel does not allow you to bring food in. We have eaten breakfast several times in the hotel and it is a good one - with bread and eggs and fruit and coffee. But it seems expensive at 7 Euros each which is why we have tried the occasional cafe and croissant outside. But that isn't very satisfying, especially for me, as I like to have more at breakfast than at dinner (well, in theory, anyway). On Saturday, we had fruit and cheese at the market but (according to the map) there's only a market on Saturday and Wednesday.

Lunch can be a large and sustaining meal if you want to eat light at dinner. Most shops close down for about 2 hours from noon until 2 and the restaurants fill up. Some restaurants are only open in the morning and at lunch and some only open for the dinner crowd, so it helps to have scoped out some places ahead of time. And some restaurants are closed one or two days of the week. But there are many places to eat on Arles and if one is closed, another will be close by.

We had already had dinner once at La Gueule du Loup, as it had also been recommended by one of our books. It is a very small place with a few tables on the ground level, where you can watch the chef at work if you want. It has about 8 tables up a steep flight of ancient stone stairs and a small but attentive crew of wait staff. The menu is limited and probably changes weekly and the choices sound wonderful. And they are wonderful. Beautifully presented, interesting combinations of tastes, scrumptious.

What we've also taken to doing, especially if we have a light lunch and are waiting for restaurants to open for dinner, is to find a cafe in the late afternoon, to while away our time until dinner. There are many of them around of course, but we seem to have settled on the cafes surrounding the Place du Forum as the best place for people watching. I am sure the Place had a more important past but now, its main claim to fame seems to be the cafe that Vincent painted one evening: Le Cafe au Nuit Right beside that cafe (now painted up in yellow to resemble the VanGogh painting) is one owned by a former bull fighter. The centre of the Place is filled with tables and chairs and different sections of them are serviced by the restaurants and cafes that line the Place. I think the clientele of the entire Place is tourists, unlike some of the other cafes in Arles that are more obviously populated by local people. But as long as it is not time for a meal, they don't seem to mind if you sit there for hours having a small pichet of wine, while you take pictures and write in your notebook.

France 2008 - Arles, May 17

Saturday, we went to the market. It was advertised right on the map of Arles, that they had a market every Saturday and Wednesday so we decided to see what there was to see. Wow! All along the Boul. des Lices was a market and the traffic was stopped. (This is part of the "ring road" that goes around Old Arles on the sides away from the river. It's all one big road but is broken into three different names.) On one side was all the food stuff and on the other side was everything else.

To have a great look at the market, go to Peter's set at Flickr and enjoy. The food side was especially impressive, with large vans where the sides opened up to vans where things were being cooked right in front of you, in one case, on giant wok-like surfaces.

We have been having breakfast at the hotel and enjoying it but thought we should try something different. On the way to the market, we stopped in the Place du Forum (where VIncent's cafe is and where we stop a lot) and had a cafe and a croissant. When you ask for a cafe you get an espresso. For any other kind of coffee, you have to specify. The shop with the cafe didn't have anything to eat but referred us two doors down to the bakery where we bought something and then went back to the cafe to eat it.

By the time we got to the market, it had been open for some time and the place was packed. But real Arlesiennes were doing their shopping and while busy, people were in constant motion so it was easy enough to wander around. So much wonderful looking food! I got hungry right away and so we stopped at different places to buy a bag of cherries, half a baguette and some soft cheese. We stepped away from the steady stream of patrons and sat on a half wall and ate our finds. Mmm.

The other side of the street had everything but food, including a young man with three miniature goats who wasn't selling them but just using them as a draw to get you to buy outrageously priced candy to support some cause. Near the end of the line were some folks selling Provencal fabrics. I bought a few meters but worried that it wasn't "authentic". On the other hand, it was nice so who cares?

I have noticed that there seems to be a hierarchy of greeting. If you don't know someone but are introduced by someone you both know, you shake hands. If you know the person and have seen them recently, you kiss each other twice. But if you know someone and haven't seen them for a while, you kiss each other three times. This is just a theory on my part, but I like it.

France 2008 - Arles, May 16

When we planned on spending 9 days in Arles, we thought we would get out of the city almost every day, to go see somewhere else in the area, like Aix and Avignon and Nimes. Having arrived late on Wednesday, we thought by Friday we would take our first day trip. But we seemed content to stay, even in the small Old Arles and just walk around and see what was there. So we bought a museum pass which allowed for entry into 8 different museums or sites and since it was raining on Friday, we decided to start looking at them then.

We bought the museum pass at the information booth at the train station but you can get them in many other spots, including the museums themselves. We started at the ancient Roman Arena, built about 90AD having been first carved out of the hillside. Imagine walking on stones where people had trod 2000 years before you. Giant stone steps led up to the top of the arena and there was a medieval tower which stood even higher that gave a great view of the city. I could feel the steps in my quads the next day.

There was some restoration going on. I wasn't sure if they were doing more than just cleaning the stone of the 50 years or so of internal combustion engine pollution. I am thinking that someone should ban driving most cars in Old Arles, as the pollution is ruining everything including my lungs. But what political will would that take?

The day before, we had been to St. Trophime, the church on the Place de la Revolution which was started in the 1100s. It was the first, truly old building that Peter had ever encountered, given that he had only travelled in North America prior to this. It was wonderful to watch him grasp the fact that the paving stones in this still operational church had been laid 800 years before he got there. The main nave columns were Romanesque which is a style that I find serene and calm. The apse and side chapels had more Gothic arches, as they were built later. One side chapel was barred off with ornate iron work and contained more reliquaries than you could shake a stick at. I saw femurs in one of them!

Even as impressive as an 800 year old church is, it's hard to beat walking up the steps in an arena that is still being used, where people had walked 2000 years before.

Later, we went to the Musee Arlatan, established by local poet Frederic Mistral after he won the Nobel prize for poetry in 1905. For years, he had collected artifacts of local culture and when he won the prize, he turned his family home (itself old and built on Roman ruins) into a museum.

We looked up some other museums on our pass but found that they were closed for construction or renovation, which explains the discount we got when we bought the pass. We are staying at the Hotel du Musee which is directly opposite the Musee Reattu, named for some fellow I am sorry I never heard of, who himself painted but also collected Picasso. We still have not visited it and are saving it for when we have run out of other things to do. In fact, they are busy setting up an exhibit of a local and still living artist (a couturier) Christian Lacroix and have been having parties in advance to celebrate the opening.

France 2008 - Arles, May 15

We decide to wander around Old Arles and just look at things. This is a holiday after all and we don't intend to see or do everything that there is to see and do. While it's not quite a "sit on the beach and read paperbacks" type of holiday, we do want to relax and just BE.

(Outside the walls)
Old Arles is distinct from the rest-of-Arles. It was a walled city and remnants of the walls are apparent here and there. It is also surrounded by large, busy, noisy, boulevards which run outside where the walls used to be. We get a map from our hotel that appears to be schematic but which is very accurate and it is impossible to get lost. (They give out these maps at the information centres and everywhere.) It turn out that you can walk across Old Arles in about 15 minutes if you don't stop to look at anything. But we always stopped to look at everything.

We walk to the Place de la Republique where some civil servants (I think they are teachers) are having a demonstration complete with loud speakers, flags, drums and a faux coffin. It makes for an interesting photo shoot for Peter and reminds us of the probability of strikes. I remember Europe in the 70s when any excuse for a strike was used, especially in Italy. Apparently, people are annoyed with Sarkozy's attempts to change the system. We aren't very concerned until we realize that rail travel can be stopped with strikes, but even that worked out for us in the end.

(Along the top of the wall.)
We walk along the bank of the Rhone, on top of huge walls that have very steep and very narrow steps leading down to the water. There are about 40 steps at a 60% angle with no railings and apparently, no traffic, as weeds flourish in the cracks. I am not sure who would use these old steps or why - there are other places with better access to the water, where giant tour boats tie up.

At one point along our walk, we see a second level of walkway, below the main travelled (paved) portion of the wall. It too was paved but there are so many weeds growing through the pavement that it looks grassy now. This reminds us that we have seen no lawns in Old Arles. Looking down at the green walkway, we see more piles of dog poop than you would believe possible. I would not walk there as a person - there was hardly a clear space to put a foot, much less a paw. Some time later, we did see a woman walking a large white dog down there. She took the dog off the leash and let him pick his own way through the mess. I am grateful for the daily street sweepers that pick up all this excrement on the streets where we usually walk, but I wonder if people could be persuaded to pick up after their pets if perhaps they made some advertising showing a famous and otherwise "cool" celebrity picking up dog poop. I wonder.

I saw a bat last night and wondered what they call it in French, so we asked our tres gentile waiter and he said it is called a chauvesouris. Now I just ran that through my translator and it came out "bald person mouse". Hmm. In German it is "fledermaus" or some such spelling. In both languages, the bat is described as a type of mouse, even though we know it is not a rodent.

Then we were looking for the French word for "confused", as we often are on this trip so far. We ask a different waitress at a different restaurant and say in our very Anglo-French, "what is the word for - I don't know what is going on - or, I'm a little bit stupid". She recoiled from the word "stupide" which I'm now thinking must be a real insult. Later we came up with the word "deranger" which is deranged in English and which about sums it up.

France 2008 - Arles, May 14

Arrive at 6 pm, try to use the bathroom at the train station and both are out of order. The map says we are very close but we get a cab anyway because we aren't sure and we have to pee. Should have gone on the train but the toilet there was in a horrible state. Turns out it is less than a 10 minute walk away (we checked it later) but anyway, we had to pee.

We checked into the Hotel du Musee and get a much bigger room than the closet where we stayed in Paris our first night. Very picturesque, lots of plants in open courtyards, overhanging rambling roses on the exterior stairs on the way up. No elevator but we only have to walk up two flights.

We stagger out to get a real dinner, as we have not had one of the prix fixe menus we have heard about and we missed lunch effectively and are starving. We walk around a fair bit and get disoriented. We choose a place that turns out to be a 5 minute walk from the hotel, when we eventually finish dinner and return to our room. It is on a street (Rue du Docteur Fanton) we realize has three very nice restaurants in a row and later, we try them all. This first night however, we are still new to France and to Arles so we choose one, "Les Oliviers Sont Bleus", based on the plants shielding the patrons from the traffic, which thankfully is light.

The menu has two sides: one says "Carte" and the other "Menu 25 euros", so we figure it is the prix fixe. There are two sections on the prix fixe and each section has about 7 or 8 items on it. We try to translate all the different items to figure out if they fall into a class and eventually decide that you choose one section or the other and get all 7 items. This sounds extravagant now, but at the time, we had just finished reading Peter Mayle's book and he talked about the many course dinners and how the Provencals love their food so we figured 7 items for dinner wasn't a stretch. I also think we were still suffering from jet lag.

Both sections have a "tartare" item of which I am wary - one is thon or tuna and the other is beef (cut by hand, "hache la main"). I have eaten beef tartare once and prefer most meat cooked to break down the fibre. When the very young (and we later discover, Italian) waiter comes to ask for our order, I point to the top section on the prix fixe and say, "je voudrais cet chose" and Peter says, "le meme pour moi". We also order an Appellation controle Minervois, a blend of Syrah and Grenache grapes, for only 17 euros, a bargain!

Our food comes, starting (we think) with some cold layered vegetables (I identify zucchini and eggplant) with brie in the layers and diced red pepper in the sauce. we later realize this is the Terrine de Provencal vegetables. It is accompanied by a mix of lettuce and other leaves in a nice vinagrette and slices of baguette. After we do everything but lick the plate and scarf down the dozen black olives that were on the table when we arrived, we wait with anticipation for what we think will be the second of the many dishes but nothing happens. Eventually a young female waiter brings us the dessert menu and now we really get confused. The dessert menu says "6 euro" and we look at each other and say, "wait a minute! We paid 25 euro for some limp eggplant and now we have to pay 6 euro for dessert?"

We get the waiter's attention and try to figure it all out. It turns out (of course) that you choose one item from the top section - that's your appetizer - and one from the second section - your main course. Then you also get dessert included in the 25 euros. We felt embarrassed but for some reason the female waiter seems even more embarrassed and Peter said she turned quite red. We then order something from the main course part of the menu and I cant even remember what we had but I do remember it was tasty.

At this point, we notice the couple beside us is watching us, amused because we don't seem upset about any of the mix-up. We try to explain that we were confused (we don't know the word for that) and then Peter says in English, "I'm sorry, I didn't get the memo!" This cracks us up and we have to take some time to compose ourselves. For all that we may have seemed like idiot tourists, we had a fun time in spite of it.

They turn out to be an older couple from Switzerland, touring the area on bicycles. She speaks English, French and German but he mostly just speaks German but understands French. He speaks German to Peter who understands it perfectly and we women round things out with French and English and so we manage to have a polyglot conversation that is a lot of fun, even if tiring. We finally finish our dessert (creme caramel, I believe, what else?) and stagger back to the hotel with turns out to be completely quiet and dark, in total contrast to our Paris hotel. Small screaming birds (swifts or swallows) wake us up at about 4:30 am when the sun starts to make its presence felt.