Journal Entry 18--All Saints' Day in Alsace--Saturday, Nov. 1, 2014
When I woke up Saturday morning, I was staring at a sloped ceiling of crossed timbers. As I came awake, I remembered better where I was and just looked around for a while. I was still adjusting to staying in a top-floor, corner room of a 14th-century building--which nevertheless had slick finishes and a clean, modern bathroom, thank God! Soon, I brushed teeth, shaved, and went down the elevator to breakfast.
I awakened to the sight of timbers hewn in the 14th century!
In the words of Emily Dickinson, "Tell all the truth but tell it slant."
I suppose it was the quirky, contradictory nature of this hotel that intrigued me the most. It was undoubtedly the oldest one I would ever stay in, yet it was up-to-date in most respects. Briefly, I entertained the notion that it might have been built new, in the old style of Colmar, but Louis quickly disabused me of that idea. He said that buildings with large, oak timbers such as these had to be hundreds of years old, because wood like that was simply not available in Europe anymore.Landing at the bottom of this side section of the hotel, I simply walked across the courtyard to the breakfast room, which was located on the first floor of the same section as my room. This eating area was clean and welcoming with plenty of food laid out and an attendant to help us. It was not large, but big enough for our group and a few more besides. The windows afforded a view of the street below my room.
Breakfast in Colmar
After a satisfying breakfast, I elevatored back up to prepare for the day. When I descended again, I explored the lobby and basement and took a few pictures. We would soon head out into the Alsatian morning on our way to Strasbourg.
Lobby at Hotel St. Martin
Before everyone had gathered, I went outside to find my room from the street and took a few exterior pics. When I discussed my sloping penthouse with the others, no one else reported such unique quarters. I had my garret for just one more night, so that was fine. When would I ever again have such an experience? I didn't know it then, but the next hotel room would be my compensation. My " digs" in Reims would be sensational!
Waiting to leave for Strasbourg
This is the section where we had just eaten breakfast. My room was the one with three windows--in my attic/penthouse.
Louis and our docent talked to us briefly before Nicolas drove away. We would soon be in Strasbourg, the legendary crossroads city that was now the home of the European Parliament. Our docent said that in Alsace, parents could choose the language (French or German) their children would would use in school. The other language would be taught as a second one. She personally was German-speaking and spoke French as a second language. Her English was not bad either.
Chef Hubert Keller hails from Alsace.
Alsace is on the planet Earth, I assure you!
At this point, I enclose a map. I have seen too many knitted brows every time I mention Alsace back here. It's a northeastern province of France pictured in yellow. It's right next to Lorraine to its east, which is the place Joan of Arc came from. It's a French province which exudes German architecture and influence, and it's gone back and forth between France and Germany several times.
Something else worth mentioning is that on Nov. 1, the French often bring flowers to their cemeteries and leave them at the graves of their departed relatives and friends. We saw mums on the graves at several locations on our way to Strasbourg, and we would be see more of this on our way to Reims tomorrow.
Mums on graves for All Saints'
For reasons which passeth understanding, my memory of this All Saints' Day (La Toussaint) has gaps. For one, it's July of 2015, and I am describing what happened last November. For another, the fatigue of so much touring was starting to kick in. For a third, I was deeply concerned and prayerful about my son Aaron, who was back home in Texas recovering from his running accident. Added to these things was the warning about pickpockets and a unique sense of insecurity. Finally, the layout of Strasbourg was confusing to a newcomer because of its complex system of canals, locks, and rivers.As we neared Europe's Parliament, north of the city center, I heard Howard refer to the idea of the European Community as a "boondoggle." I politely let him know I disagreed with that. What I had seen already and would see today confirmed me in the opinion that the European Federation really was working well. Regardless of occasional economic problems, the peace and cooperation which Europe has enjoyed since its reconstruction benefits not just the Europeans but also the rest of the world.
When we arrived at the Parliament, we exited for pictures. It was cool and cloudy, even misty, but despite this we took some photos. I went over to Louis and asked him if he thought the idea of a European congress was a success, and he said an adamant, "Yes!" He thought it was working just fine.
European Parliament building in Strasbourg
YOUR VOTE YOUR VOICE YOUR CHOICE--Note the customary, inexact translations.
Aerial view of
European Parliament in Strasbourg, France
European Parliament in Strasbourg, France
Though a new session of this Parliament would start soon--on Monday--we had the place entirely to ourselves on Saturday morning. After we returned to the bus, Nicholas drove us to a famous park a few blocks away, and there security police were very much in evidence. We did not stop at the Parc de l'Orangerie but merely scoped it out from the bus. Sometimes we simply drove by one interesting place on our way to another.
Parc de l'Orangerie
When we arrived at a parking area near the center of Strasbourg, Louis said we would be walking from now till after lunch and to stay together and keep our things secure--that pickpockets were a problem here--especially today. This would turn out to be the most insecure I would feel on the entire tour, with the exception of a few trips on the Paris Metro.
Louis keeps a close watch on us as we walk through Strasbourg.
We approached La Cathédrale Notre Dame de Strasbourg.
Louis led us over bridges and through streets lined with half-timbered buildings. We passed over a bewildering number of bridges, canals, and locks emanating from the L'Ill River, which surrounded the city. Finally, we saw in the distance at the end of this narrow street the tall towers of Notre Dame de Strasbourg Cathedral. This magnificent edifice of red Vosges sandstone was once the tallest building in the world, and it was still one of the most beautiful! The square in front of it was smaller than I would have liked, and buildings built at its edge restricted our view of the front of the magnificent cathedral.
As we entered the square, I noticed a carousel and a statue--of the cathedral's architect. We remained bunched together while Louis stayed outside our circle watching constantly to be sure no one bothered us. This went on while we listened to the docent describe the beautiful building before us.
Pictures of the Square facing Notre Dame de Strasbourg
The Germanic character of the province was established long before Louis XIV acquired it for France.
Talk about timber frame construction and telling it slant!
A pigeon flies to the bell tower. For 227 years, that tower made this the world's tallest building.
"A book in stone"
Carved angels with wings of copper
When the docent finished her lecture, Louis gave us an hour to shop and tour the area, and he mentioned that high mass was about to be celebrated inside the cathedral. It was November 1, and I wanted to attend. Joe Kratovil said he wanted to go to the service, too, so we walked in and took a seat about midway down with a good view of the high altar. Pictures inside were not allowed, but we were intent on viewing the building and the impending mass anyway, so it was just as well. Interior pics will be Google images.
Suffice it to say that the choir and organ music were wonderful, the procession and regalia were magnificent, and the Bishop of Strasbourg conducted the mass in French. It was a beautiful and prayerful experience, all the more so because it came as a surprise. Lord knows I sent prayers up for Aaron.
Looking toward the altar
Looking back at the entrance
The organ was over to the side.
The Celestial Clock
Joe and I knew we had to meet the tour at a specified time, so we left before communion, but since we did not yet see many tour members, I made a sashay across the large courtyard east of the cathedral to the subterranean toilettes nearby. When I came back up, I was really impressed by the beauty of the side of the cathedral. The grace of the buttresses and the color-combination of the green copper roof and the red sandstone were sublime. So I took a few lateral shots of this wonderful building.
Side view of Notre Dame de Strasbourg
Then Joe and I returned to the front of the building and met our group. Louis announced we were walking to a somewhat distant restaurant and needed to be on our way. Again, he stood apart and watched us carefully like the conscientious shepherd that he was. Thankfully, no pickpockets challenged him.
Willow, won't you weep for me?
We walked down a few blocks to the L'Ill River and alongside it for a distance--past weeping willows--to the Pont St. Martin Restaurant. As we came near, we saw a barge coming through a lock, so we all watched the complete process of the adjustment to a change of levels of the river. I had never seen this before.
Lock on the l'Ill River
True to its name, the restaurant was right on the river near the Bridge of St. Martin. Our placement inside afforded us a fine view of the waterway as we consumed yet another fine French lunch.
After lunch, we boarded the bus for a brief ride of several blocks to view an important section where a complex of bridges spanned a confluence or rivers. The area is known as the "Covered Bridges," and it's where slaughter houses and tanneries used to be located. Here also was a hospital that specialized in treating syphilis. This area is known as "Little France." According to our docent, these towers, built to defend the bridges, were a major landmark of the city.
Our last look at central Strasbourg--"The Covered Bridges"
Our bus was in the lot behind the tower to the right.
Finally, Nicholas drove us out of Strasbourg and south toward the vineyard village of Riquewihr. All I knew about the place was that it produced wine, but Geraldine added that it was a really scenic, fun place to go which she had crossed over from Germany to visit during her student days. As it turned out, Geraldine was correct.
Vineyards surrounding Riquewihr
As we approached Riquewihr (pronounced "Reekveer"), rows of grapevines covered the surrounding hills in amazingly straight lines. When Nicholas parked our bus near a half-dozen others, we knew we'd come to a well-attended place. When we finally reached the main street, the town was fairly bustling with tourists.
Here's one way to take a picture and be in it, too.
Louis and Susan Hian confer.
Views from Riquewihr
Since it was Nov. 1, there were a few goblins and witches in the stores, probably for American tourists, but most visitors today spoke German and seemed in the best of spirits. This was really the beginning of the Christmas shopping season, and soon holiday market weekends would be in full swing.
We gathered here before entering the Preiss-Zimmer winery.
Our docent, Howard Hian, and busdriver Nicolas
We meet the young man who took us through the winery.
We had about an hour on our own to visit shops up and down the main drag that interested us. I was particularly impressed by food displays in some shop windows. Porcelain geese heralded the pâté and cassoulet inside, and there were colorfully-wrapped sausages hanging all around.
Finally, we gathered at the designated street corner, and Louis introduced us to a polite, articulate young man who would take us on a tour of the Preiss-Zimmer Winery. While Preiss owned acreage at the edge of Riquewihr, the grapes were hauled into town for crushing and aging. The young guide opened an iron gate and walked us down a private street to the door of the wine rooms. Into this incredibly old, multi-leveled wine "cave" we went. I was stunned by the size and age of the huge oaken casks. He said that most of them had been in continual use since the 1760's!
Oak wine barrels in use since the 1760's
Smith is up to the cask.
Imagine crawling into that!
These large, oval barrels had an arched section where the spout was located, and our guide said that every year after the wine has been emptied out, a worker enters each cask through that opening and washes the inside with just water. Then later during the fall, the barrels are used again. He even demonstrated how a much smaller man could put one arm through the opening and slowly work the rest of his body inside. These casks must flavor the wine really well; we were amazed!Something I can't stress enough was the politeness and courtesy with which this young Frenchman addressed us. I realize this was good PR, and he hoped we would buy some Riesling, but his kindness and humility were still impressive. I would think of him again when similar courtesies were extended to us by the young man who would take us through the Chateau-Thierry Cemetery.
The young man below was the soul of courtesy.
Then we went down to a lower level of the wine cellar where even more fabulously old oaken vats flanked the walkway.
Sign above the tasting room across the street.
Glasses already set up for our candlelight dégustation
(Wouldn't Hyacinth be impressed?)
(Wouldn't Hyacinth be impressed?)
Here we enjoyed wine and "kuchen."
Some mighty fine wine!
And a wonderful time was had by all!
(Florence from New York and Mickey from San Francisco enjoy some vin blanc.)
Next, the young guide took us back up the lane and cross the street to the Preiss-Zimmer tasting room where we all sampled a glass or two of wonderful white wine. We had a fine, relaxing time, and the vintner passed around a round loaf of sweet, dessert bread coated with powdered sugar. When I tasted a slice, I was astounded to be suddenly back on a farm in Cooke County, Texas, in the kitchen of Laura Zetler Schniederjan!
Kuchen/kugelhopf
Valery's grandmother, and Valery also, made this same wonderful dessert bread at Christmas time. They called it "Kuchen" (pronounced "kookin"). I ate some more slices and even wrapped napkins around a few extras to take back to my room. Incidentally, some of the Zetler family had come from Alsace originally. I looked this cake/bread up when I came back to the States and found it listed as kugelhopf or gugelhopf. It was one of Marie Antoinette's favorite desserts.
Then we started a rather long, hilly walk back to the bus, and as darkness fell, Nicholas drove us "home" to Colmar. On the way, Johanna, Paul, and Mickey said they wanted to go to mass at St. Martin's Church--not far from the hotel--and asked if I wanted to join them. Since I had missed communion in Strasbourg, I said "Yes."
Arriving back in Colmar, we thanked and said good-bye to our docent as we exited the bus. After we walked to the hotel, the three of us set a time to meet in the lobby. In a half-hour, we joined up and walked a few blocks to the large Catholic church of Colmar. There was a Protestant one, too.
Eglise St. Martin in Colmar
During the service, I failed to look much at my bulletin, but later I realized that the priest was reading it in French almost word for word. This was simply a commemorative All Saints' service minus communion, and when we left, I said my good-byes and walked alone back to the hotel. I was tired and ready for packing, bath, and bed. We would leave for Reims in the morning.
Fin
Hors d'Oeuvres:
(1) One of my courses at UT-Austin was called French Culture; I still have the textbook, and much time was spent on French cathedrals and terms relating to them. Prof Trépanier was good teacher, but I wish I had soaked up a little more at the time. If anyone is interested in the subject, a very interesting book on this is Ken Follett's "Pillars of the Earth."
(2) I took that course during my junior year at UT ('66-'67), and something I will never forget is the way the grade turned out. By the end of the semester, I had about an 88 average and assumed I would get a B. However, I gave the final exam my usual end-of-course push, and I was astonished later to see that Trépanier had given me an A. Then some time afterwards, I ran into her at the Nighthawk Restaurant on the Drag and told her how "étonné" I was by the "bonne note." She remembered and said I had done a good job on the final and had been "moving up" all semester, so she thought I deserved the A. I try to remember that when my own students are "close to the line."
