Time for Metropolis #2: Tours! That’s
right, our location has now shifted to the Loire Valley, since this afternoon.
Want to know how we got there?
Grandma woke me up and left again,
only this time, I actually got up
while she was gone. There was a special reason, of course… She had promised to
go and buy me a pain au chocolat, which I had been wanting since our arrival in
France. It was so good, flaky, chocolaty… We hung out in the apartment, ready
around one hour and a half in advance, and waited till 11 when Michael showed
up. Handing in the key, we went off to
the Crowne Plaza to steal one of the taxis in the front. Unfortunately, despite
Grandma’s reassurances, there weren’t any. Instead, we regretfully headed for
the metro once more and carried our bulky suitcases down the steep stairs.
Arriving at La gare d’Austerlitz, we tried to figure out where exactly our train was, but then realized that we were too early for the station to even know.
We waited… and finally boarded.
I don’t really know what Grandma did
during the 2-hour ride (reading and sleeping, I suppose), but I did more
Brand-New-World-ing. Tours was the last stop, and we disembarked. Grandma had
printed out directions to get to our hotel room from the tourist bureau—only,
we couldn’t find the tourist bureau.
Asking for help from a nice man, we finally found the first street that we
needed to turn on.
“We’re looking for ‘Rue Pimbert’,”
Grandma said. Okay, simple enough. “It’s on the right.”
It was supposed to take eight minutes.
We were walking for half an hour before admitting defeat and turning around.
Right. Lost again.
Walking in the opposite direction, we
realized that we had simply missed the street. Perusing all of the street signs
attentively, we kept going until we ended up right where we started. On top of
that, it was raining again. I know, again.
Tired, hungry (It was 4 and we hadn’t eaten lunch yet) and our arms sore from
dragging our luggage around, we entered a coffee shop near the train station.
“Nous sommes per,” Grandma declared to
the waitress. Despite her incomprehensible accent, she understood right away.
“Ah, vous etes perdus,” she answered,
and promptly drew us a very clear map. Curse Google Maps! How were we supposed
to know that Rue Pimbert was actually behind
another street? How does that make any sense? Well, we have been thwarted by
Google Maps, and plan to stop putting all of our trust into it. Our only option
left? Mapquest.
Before I go any further, let me clear
up how the waitress could understand
us (well, Grandma) so well. Tours is home to a school for learning the French
language, welcoming students from all over the world speaking in broken French.
Grandma and Grandpa had stayed there for a month the year my parents had gotten
married to learn the language. So obviously, residents are pretty much used to
hearing people speak, well, to say this nicely, with an accent.
We finally found the hotel,
camouflaged behind a very normal-looking door. We settled in to our room, and,
taking our umbrellas, went out to explore the town.
 |
| Beautiful buildings |
It was still raining.
We found this really cool pedestrian
area full of restaurants and shops. The buildings were just beautiful (See
picture 1). I immediately fell in love with their old, cottagey style. Going
through a candy store, we bought sour candies and chocolate caramels. Also, we
resolved to actually eat French food, tonight. For the first time.
Well, it was only (only!) a quarter to seven, and none of the
restaurants were open yet (I know; French people, right?). Going back to the
hotel for half an hour, we asked the receptionist about the French restaurants.
Cap Sud, Le Turon, La Ruche et L’hedoniste. Those were our choices.
Leaving, we found the first three
fairly easily; they were all on the same street. We never found L’hedoniste,
however. After perusing all of the menus stationed outside, we finally decided
that Cap Sud was most likely the most Danielle-approved. (I can be picky, for
those who don’t know me well.) And this
is what we ordered.
We had the choice to order one appetizer
and one entrée. Grandma picked (I’m giving this to you word for word here, I
spent about ten minutes—longer than it took me to eat it, Grandma says—copying
this down afterwards for the sake of this blog. So you’re welcome.) “Dés de
Thon rouge juste snaké, bouillon de thé vert et espuma de petits pois au
combawa” as an appetizer, and “Quasi de Veau poelé, griottin de riz et de champignons,
boulgour de petits légumes et raisins de corinthe, jus corsé.” Now, in nothing
but the first course, there were three words that Grandma had to ask for a
definition: “snaké,” which means lightly grilled, as in only for a second, “espuma,”
which is a kind of mousse, and “combawa,” a Chinese lime. And that was only the
appetizer. For my part, I elected the “Cannelloni de Magret de Canard séché et
artichauts, chantilly de feves et huile de mandarine” as an appetizer, and “Filet
de Carrrelet en croute de pistache sur un lit de petits legumes et emulsion de
peche vervaine.” Obviously, I had no idea what I was ordering.
Before serving us, they brought a
little “aperitif,” lemon-flavoured mascarpone cheese (I didn’t like it) and
lemon-flavoured whipped cream (Didn’t like it either).
“I don’t think I like French food very
much,” I told Grandma.
The appetizers came; Grandma said hers
was lovely. The only thing I recognized was tuna. Mine was inedible—Grandma found
it lovely as well, however. I guess I don’t
like French food. When I had ordered, the only thing I saw was the cannelloni;
I have no idea how what was on my plate even resembled pasta. There was a sort
of potato-y mash wrapped inside the duck—cold—but it really was not something I
enjoyed. I prayed that I would enjoy the
main course, as I was starving from my lack of a lunch. In the meantime, I ate
bread.
When I had ordered my entrée, what I
had seen was the fish and vegetables. And I was served fish and vegetables.
And it was good.
Well, maybe French food isn’t so bad,
after all. The hard part is reading the menu.
I’m mentally preparing myself for
tomorrow morning. I’ll have to actually get up, now, to catch the bus. Grrrrrr.
No comments:
Post a Comment