Our ride to Bordeaux was mostly uneventful, as our train coursed through countryside that could nearly have been plucked straight from my Okanagan homeland. Nearly, but for the stone construction of the farmhouses and barns, and massive hilltop estate properties and other “castle-like” structures, which would have looked distinctly out of place in BC, as Christina reminded me. We arrived and were immediately unimpressed by the town of Bordeaux. It is famous as being the largest single UNESCO world heritage site, and I was expecting big things. We had a seedy walk for the few blocks between the station and our hostel, the Auberge de Jeunesse. It wasn’t as clean as Tours, and looked more like what I picture downtown Detroit looking like, sloppily boarded up buildings and all. We checked in to a room that was basic, but not fancy – though that was what I had signed us up for.
Right away we left to have a look at the place. It was a half a dozen more seedy blocks until we reached the first square, which opened nicely and presented us with several restaurants and some shops. Through the square we found the main drag towards Old Town – easily identifiable by the flood of humanity clogging the path such that we could barely make our way without pressing through a sea of tightly packed shoulders. This continued for some more blocks until the crowd turned left and we continued straight, more to get away from the people than to move towards any specific place. We were in Old Town, and it looked old enough, without the elegance of Brugge. It certainly felt “french” enough, but without the charm of Tours. We wandered a little more through the periphery of Old Town before walking back toward the hostel along much the same route.
At the first square we stopped for our dinner. We ordered the most indecipherably francais things we could spot on the menu, which were Boudin Basque, and Cuissot de Porcelet. Christina’s dish, the Boudin, looked like something I would have ordered. My dish, the Cuissot, looked like something that had washed up on shore. Then been attacked by ravens.
I’m not really a big “seafood” guy. We did end up enjoying the food, though I enjoyed hers more than mine, and vice versa. We finished with a Gateau Mi Cuit, which had unmistakably universal appeal. When we returned home, we looked up the translation of Christina’s dish and it was chopped up pig intestines mixed in with blood pudding. Good thing she didn’t know that at the time of consumption. 🙂
Most of our morning the next day was occupied with handling a rankly overdue load of laundry. While we waited for the dry-cycle we walked to the river and set up at a cafe where Christina made friends with the proprietess, and charmed her way into some samples of meats and cheeses, then ordered us up some snacks and coffee.
Later we took another stab at Old Town, and had a vastly better time exploring. The trick was to take the longer way into the core, bypassing all the riff-raff in favor of walking along the river.
Once in the Old City we took our time to explore the numerous cafe-laden squares, and streets filled with patiserries and chocolateries and numerous fashionable retailers. Christina window-shopped herself into a state of agitation, but staved off the impulse to make any purchases… for now. We took a break in the early afternoon for a snack, and indulged in an assortment of desserts as well as a platter of mini-crepes and selection of sauces for accompaniment. This reinforcement allowed us to continue wandering the cobbled streets for a few more hours, until we felt like we had seen it all.
We took a break at the Square de la Comedie and watched some street performers until the urge to eat again took hold. We returned to one of the squares into which cafes and restaurants were packed so densely, and selected one (almost at random) for dinner.
The most interesting part of my meal was the escargots, which I believe (though I may be forgetting a prior occassion) was my first such encounter. I had the “confit du canard”, or duck, which was excellent, and Christina had a salmon penne.
For dessert I had a reprise of the gateau chocolate, and Christina tried a crepe. I would call this day a redemptive success which, for the most part, nullified our negative experiences of the prior day, but did not quite elevate Bordeaux to the level of Tours.
In my mind, Brugge is so far our best stop in Europe – scoring a 9/10, only losing a point beause of how pricey the food was. Tours is a couple of points lower, not based on any flaws, but they weren’t throwing us free concerts or anything. Bordeaux would have to place at least a point or two below Tours, which puts it at only a 6/10 at best. If we had rented a car and had the chance to tour “wine country” from vineyard to vineyard then I might have had a better feel for the region, but as I can only rate the city itself, I can’t say that I was impressed.
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We’re planning to circle around the west side of western Europe and come back up through France’s south side, which gets pretty high praise from everyone we’ve spoken to. I’m excited to see Spain, but we’re definitely not through with France yet!