I have a friend who has learned to say “I will have two beers please and my friend will pay” in one hundred different languages. I’m starting a ceoliacs version….”Where are the toilets please”, though I think I can dispense with the “my friend will pay”.
Indonesian is my favourite so far “buang air besar” or “throw big water” for twos, and “throw little water” for ones. It’s a little sad perhaps that, in one of the most romantic languages in the world, the first thing I’ll learn to say properly is “ou est la toilette” (remembering, as Jimoin advises, to keep the eye brows up).
People say that it’s hard to find toilets in France. Whilst there’s a distinct lack of public toilets to be sure, every bistro and cafe has it’s own and there’s millions of those. We generally use the ones where we’ve eaten (the bistro, not the toilet) but they don’t seem to mind if you just drop in. There’s often a plate for loose change but no-one’s collecting. Mmmm, so perhaps I do need the “my friend will pay” bit of the phrase – although wandering into the cafe hand-in-hand with a casual “where are the toilets please and my friend will pay” seems a little unsavoury.
The dunnies are very nice to, sometimes with ornate wooden stair cases leading down below or one, near the Jardin des Luxemburg, with a little window overlooking the street scene below. I’d provide some photos but for the dubious act of lugging a camera and flash into a bathroom.
We are packed. Imeme, our bnb host has come to say hello and goodbye and to tell us that we have till one o’clock to shove off. With plenty of time then, we opt to leave our bags and take our last petit dejeuner at our little boulengerie sans luggage.
For a moment at least we felt almost Parisian sitting in the sun sipping our cafe until a Frenchman on a massive Honda Goldwing pulled up in front of us with, “allo, you are tourists no?”. Image shattered – oh well. In fact he was pulling up to take an American, who subsequently appeared, to Charles de Gaul, and took the opportunity to deliver a sales pitch. He does motor cycle tours of Paris and for those who are wondering, the Honda Goldwing has a rear compartment (boot if you like) and luggage rack! The pillion seat is more a lounge chair and he throws a massive cover over you like a fur on a sleigh ride. It’s very cool (did I tell you I’m interested in motorcycles?)
And so we are arrived in Strasbourg after a two hour “very fast” train journey during which we both dozed comfortably. The old part of Strasbourg is surrounded by a canal. The cathedral at the town’s centre is a thousand years old and towers above the old stone and timber buildings around the square far below. The cathedral is so intricate. From a distance the spire looks like a paper-cut out or one of those Asian carved balls within balls; thousands of tiny pieces with the gaps between, belying the structures massive brown-red stone bulk.
We sat by the canal for a glass of wine and sliver over Munster, then wandered off to find where we’d booked for dinner. It was a French Swiss place and Di had roast chicken in peanut butter and Munster cheese sauce – really! Klaus and Marion joined us, they’ve come across from Stuttgart for the weekend and love their wine and food. Klaus and Marion have a Harley Fat boy (did I tell you I’m interested in motorcycles?) are members of the Stuttgart Harley chapter and showed us their photos of them in leather biker jackets and lader hausen. Good fun. Tomorrow we explore this small medieval town.