Monday, October 6, 2008

Dijon

This weekend, I took a train to Dijon, France to see Becky. Well, that isn't entirely true. I actually took four trains. Only once or twice did I feel as if I had no idea what I was doing. Luckily, I can understand French pretty well when it is spoken to me. Of course, articulating my own thoughts isn't always quite so easy. I think I now have a slightly better understanding of how it would feel to be mute. I did, however, make all of my connections, got a lot of reading done, and even made some friends. People everywhere are very willing to help. Even, sometimes, when they have no idea what it is that is needed from them.

When I found Becky, who came from PĂ©rigueux, also by train, but a bit later, we found something to eat, and then somewhere to stay, since it was getting dark. We managed to avoid this:

And so many people tell me that French is such a pretty language. Maybe they were trying to say that it was lunch, and more. I have no idea. Luckily, we managed to find good food, despite Flunch's best efforts. We stayed at the not-glorious but more than satisfactory Hotel Jacquemart, and enjoyed the market, the sights, and a chilly bike tour of some of wine country:

Yes, that is the local dump just outside of Dijon. We should not have expected better for following the path between the train tracks and the canal, but things did improve once we got a bit further from the city. If it had only been a bit warmer, we might have been able to go much further.

Our days proceeded as such, from one half-understood conversation with a French person to the next (they were indeed all very nice) and when the time came to leave, we said our goodbyes, getting on our respective trains. It took me thirteen hours, but I made it back in one piece, thanks to many helpful railroad employees and fellow customers, and the man who drove me back from Freiburg. It is much cheaper to set up a ride with a stranger than with a commercial transportation agency. Oh well, I'm sure they'll keep trying.

Oh, and for those to whom Freiburg is of import, I am happy to say that I had about an hour to wander around, and get an ice cream cone from my favorite ice cream place outside of Newburgh, NY. It is sooo good. Here's a picture of the church near where I stayed in Freiburg at night. It brings back good memories.

4 comments:

Peter said...

Ok so... It seems to me that Flunch doesn't want anyone to come inside anyway. There are arrows pointing away from the front doors. And you must always abide by the directions of arrows.

Orange Qtym said...

Well, I think they're trying to lead potential customers away from the front doors that they don't want people to use, and towards the actual entrance, which they had the foresight to put somewhere else. I can't say for sure, since we did not decide that we should eat at Flunch.

Olga said...

tim i'm sincerely disappointed. you of all people should have been most excited to eat at flunch. and you should have lived to tell the story. instead you lived to tell a completely different story.

Orange Qtym said...

Honestly, olga, I prefer to have lived and told the story that I did. There's just something about Flunch that turned me way off...