A walk around Strasbourg

One of the things we did while we were in Strasbourg was to take a free walking tour – we’ve done this in Budapest and in Turin, as well as here in Strasbourg, and always found them to be really interesting. I’d recommend looking one up if you’re visiting another city. Of course, one gives a tip at the end, but you give what you think the tour has been worth.

One thing that I found very moving was when our guide, Leo, talked about the way Strasbourg and the surrounding area had passed from French to German hands and back again, a&nd back again…how a member of his family who was still alive had “changed nationality” five times in his lifetime! Leo took us to a war memorial: Here’s my picture of it, taken on a rainy day in December.

Here’s another photo:

Leo explained that the sculpture shows the mother “Alsace” mourning for her dead sons…but, uniquely for war memorials, these young men are naked, they wear no uniforms, nothing to identify them. The words on the memorial read “A nos morts” (To our dead)…almost uniquely, nothing about “dead for the Republic”, or “died for the glory of France”.

And why? Because there had been people from Strasbourgian families who had been fighting on both sides – for the Allied forces, but also for the German, simply because of where they lived, and who had been “in charge” at the time. So the memorial simply commemorates all who died. I found this very moving.

The rest of the tour was informative and interesting too..with a very engaging guide.

We were lucky enough to also have a rapid tour with an acquaintance, Denis, who we’d met for Vin Chaud. He told us about a space between two pillars, outside the Cathedral…Apparently, people had to go through this space at the end of Lent. If they couldn’t fit through, it showed that they hadn’t been very good at their Lenten fasting and were therefore fined!!

Here’s Jane proving that her Lenten fasting had gone well

despite us having eaten one of these, which is a cross between a pretzel and a doughnut (a doughzel? a pretnut?)

and one of these, which is a cross between a Danish pastry and a pretzel (a Danzel? a Pretzish?)

Both were delicious, but I preferred the doughzel – it was much lighter than it looked. We had shared one, but would have liked one each! Unfortunately, we’d taken it back to the flat to eat, so it was too far to go back to buy another one!

 

 

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Good times in Strasbourg

I had a lovely few days in Strasbourg, with my friend Jane.

The journey there was a little fraught – although as I didn’t have any connections to make I wasn’t too anxious. We were on the last leg of the journey, about 20 minutes outside Strasbourg, when the train ground to a halt. After about 5 minutes the guard announced that we had hit a deer, and so had to wait for clearance to restart. Also, one assumes, for someone to clear up the debris. We were held up for about 30 minutes, during which time I texted Jane, to keep her up to date with what was happening. Finally we started off again, only to come to another abrupt halt about 10 minutes outside Strasbourg. This time, the guard told us with a weary sigh, there were children playing on the line, and a pram abandoned in our path. I suspect it was more likely to be yoofs dropping things onto the track from a bridge, but I don’t know for sure. That clear up took another 45 minutes or so – we arrived in Strasbourg about 90 minutes late. Jane had come from the flat to meet me, so we were able to have something to eat near the station, before taking a taxi back.

The first (but not the last!) mulled wine!

On Sunday we had planned to go to church, but ended up not going! We woke late and had a leisurely breakfast instead. Then we went to explore the Christmas markets… There were, after all, eleven to explore! Initially we were a little disappointed. They were either a bit too Chinese imported tat, or what was a small number of wooden chalets had been bigged up to be a “Christmas Market” However, as our time went by, we found ourselves being a little more forgiving; some weren’t much to write home about though. The “Off” market was supposed to be edgy and alternative, but was just a bit boring and unfestive. There were four or five containers with a couple of interesting stalls, plus some igloo type structures with some bits and bobs, but nothing terribly out there.

Still, while there were rather too many stalls selling Vin Chaud and baguettes with cheese and ham, we had a lovely time!

By sheer coincidence we were in the Place Kléber when the huge tree lit up – very festive! Especially when watched clutching a Vin Chaud!The market here was a little disappointing too – this was supposed to be the “ethical” market. The description told us that “Some one hundred support, charity and humanitarian associations invite you to come and meet them, discuss what drives them and share their solidarity actions at the Village of Sharing in Place Kléber, from 23 November to 24 December” What it doesn’t say is that these 100 or so associations were sharing approximately 10 chalets on a rolling programme, so there were only 10 different groups at any one time – most of them selling Vin Chaud! We did buy some “Humanitarian soup” (parsnip with ginger and lemongrass) which was good,and Facebook had a stand where they were showing their human face: encouraging us to make a donation to a charitable cause through FB, they were offering a free Christmas sweatshirt for every donation made. Well, as I needed a Christmas jumper for our works Christmas party, but was refusing to buy one, this seemed like an ideal opportunity! I wanted to support Phone Cedit for Refugees, but they don’t have a FB page, so instead I gave a donation to Restos du Coeur, and received a Christmas sweatshirt,a bag, a FB pin, a pair of gloves and a handwarmer!

Some of the decorations were amazing, and the stalls were beautifully decked out too

Our favourite market was in the Place Broglie, which is where we made many of our purchases. It was here we also met Denis, the treasurer of the Convocation of the Episcopal Church in Europe, who lives in Strasbourg. He had offered to take us to taste the “best gluhwein in the markets” so (naturally!) we took him up on the offer. The Vin Chaud was at the stall Chez Mathilde and was, apparently, an old family recipe. It was delicious – the spices used included cinnamon, star anise, cloves, and cardomom. Then Denis took us on a whirlwind tour of the markets (showing us one we’d missed) and ended up buying us a beer in an old fashioned beer kellar/pub type place. We let him go home after thyat (it was raining hard by then) and we wandered around the market a bit longer before heading home ourselves. My back had been playing up both Sunday and Monday,  generally being painful, but also occasionally going into spasm, so I was happy to take the tram home!

Random twinkly lights

We also did some sightseeing, but I’ll tell you aboutthat another time.

The journey from hell.

Well, not quite – but not much fun!

Coming home from Convention, I had prebooked all my tickets:

  • Waterloo to Brussels Midi
  • Brussels to Lyon Part Dieu (a two part ticket, Brussels to Paris Nord, Paris Gare de Lyon to Lyon Part Dieu)
  • Lyon Part Dieu to Roanne

There was 55 minutes to get from Paris Nord (arrival 14.05)  to Gare de Lyon (departure 14.59), with the SNCF site assuring me that the journey was 10 minutes, with trains every 10 to 15 minutes. It could be a bit tight, but do-able.

A group of us were on the first train, but in fact, we were going from another station, not Waterloo. We went from Braine-l’Alleud which was nearer to the church. We caught the train, and there were ticket inspectors checking the tickets. I ‘fessed up immediately, and after some humming and hahing, they let me off the extra 40 cents or so difference “because you had been honest” !

Arriving at Brussels Midi there was a notice saying the Paris train would be delayed by 40 minutes. Eeep. Thankfully, by the time we got to the platform, this notice had disappeared, so it left exactly as advertised. So far, so good. I relaxed, listened to a podcast and looked forward to a straightforward journey.

I got to Paris Nord, found the RER station, bought my ticket and arrived on the platform at 14.18. Calculating in my head (“40 minutes to go. Fifteen minute wait plus 10 minute journey leaves me 15 minutes at the other end to find the platform…Should be OK”) I looked at the departures board. Prochaine train 25 minutes it read. WHAT?! Next train in 25 minutes?! What about “train every 10 to 15 minutes”?! Mad calculations now going on in my head, I paced nervously on the station platform. One gentleman kept eying me up with a concerned look: I wonder if he thought I was a suicide bomber trying to get up the nerve to do the dreadful deed? At 14.37 the train rolled in, and hordes of people pushed to get on – it took at least 3 minutes to squeeze everyone on, and the automatic doors kept closing and opening as someone somewhere obviously got caught up and stopped them from closing.

The train got to Paris Gare de Lyon at 14.50. 7 minutes to find the platform (as they close the gates 2 minutes before departure) I raced as quickly as I could – unfit and with a gammy knee (or two) – from the RER station, to the departures board. Hall 1 for departure – where the f*** is that? Ask someone, race up the slope, look around frantically, run (well, walk as quickly as I could) along a concourse heaving with people walking slowly with their pull along luggage getting in my way, finally find Hall 1, hear a whistle and see a train pulling out. Yes, you’ve guessed it…

I found the queue for the Ticket Office, which was huge, and phoned Mr FD to let him know what had happened. The queue moved slowly and after about 15 minutes I was given a ticket number 427, to wait for a desk to become free. The automatic counter was on ticket number 402. By now I had forgotten that I’d taken out insurance against missed trains (d’oh!) and was thinking how I could get home the cheapest way possible.

Mr FD phoned and said if I went to Bercy station (850 m away) I could get a ticket to Vichy for 35€ and he’d pick me up. So I abandoned the ticket waiting queue and trundled my luggage to Bercy station, to the automatic ticket machine. Most of which were not working. I found one that was working, typed in the details. “Train full. Next train tomorrow morning” it laughed at me. Phoned Mr FD who realised that the following train had been cancelled and so two trainloads of people were getting on one train so that’s why there were no spaces.

Back I went to Gare de Lyon, where I tried to exchange my ticket at an automatic machine but it refused. Tired, confused and more than a bit stressed, I paid out 105€ for another ticket to Lyon. I probably should have gone back to the Ticket Office to explain my plight but I was beyond thinking straight by now. I got on the train, made a mess opf sitting down (I couldn’t find anywhere for my luggage, I knocked over someone’s drink…) and finally got seated. I got into conversation with the people opposite, as Mr FD was texting me about the last train from Lyon to Roanne, and would I make it…? We worked out I’d have 12 minutes, and a bloke on the train said this would be fine, Part Dieu wasn’t very big…

When we arrived, there was a fast train to Roanne that had been held up, and was leaving 5 minutes late. The helpful man thought I should get that, so practically dragged me through Part Dieu to the right platform. I got to the train, but the doors were closed. I hit the “Open” button, even though it wasn’t lit up, and nothing happened, except that the guard of the train, on the other side of the door, shook her head and made a “Tough Titty” kind of face. But then, miracle of miracles, the doors hissed open and I fell into the carriage. I can only assume the driver saw me in his mirror and took pity on me.

“You’re very lucky,” said the guard, slightly disappointed.

“I know”, I replied and collapsed into the first empty seat I found.

Mr FD was there at Roanne to pick me up – and (because I’d left myself a big gap in Lyon, and planned to take a slower train to Roanne) I actually got home at the same time as I would have done! I was just a lot more stressed!!

I’ve applied to SNCF for a reimbursement, as there wasn’t enough time between the two Paris stations to catch the second train – it was sold to me as one journey – but as I didn’t go through the proper channels I may not be lucky. We shall see. If not, I’m hoping Church might be able to give me a bit of the money, as I didn’t cost them anything going to Waterloo (as I’d gone up in Nick & Pippa’s car) Church will reimburse the hotel & the travel costs, but as the 105€ was extra, they may not be up for giving me that. We’re not rolling in money, so it may be too much for them.

But it certainly wasn’t the stressfree relaxing journey I’d planned.

Yeah, right…

What I ate in Waterloo

Kezzie said she likes food posts so I thought I’d tell you what I ate in Waterloo. (ETA, it’s turned into What I did in Waterloo, rather than just food. But that’s OK)

Nick & Pippa met me in Ikea car park – I had had lunch with Friends Cathy & Richard, enjoying the infamous Ikea meatballs, followed by their Dime cake

 
Then we drove from Clermont Ferrand to Waterloo – thankfully, all I had to do was sit in the back of the car, as it was a long journey, taking us about 10 hours. We stopped briefly for a coffee, and then for a sandwich, but nothing terribly exciting, food-wise. We finally arrived at the hotel at about 11.15 pm and fell into bed.

It was a great selection at breakfast – different bread and cakes, fruit, fruit salad, hot things (sausages, scrambled egg, baked beans), boiled eggs, meat and cheese, belgian waffles to make, a selection of honey, jam and other spreads. I had an egg, some bread and cheese spread and a bowl of fruit salad. Plus juice and coffee of course!

Nick drove us to All Saints’ Church, where the convention was taking place, and we registered, collecting the goody bags (not terribly goody-filled, but we weren’t there for the booty!) and hung around aimlessly for a while. We also chose the restaurant we wanted to go to that evening – a choice between an Italian, a brasserie, an Indian and a Thai restaurant. Feeling a bit shy, I decided to stick with Nick & Pippa, who chose the Thai.

Then we headed across the road to the big Carrefour for a coffee and a cross between a pain au raisin and a Danish Pastry. Eating healthily, hey, Fat Dormouse? I bought a wrap and a cereal bar, as I wasn’t sure whether I’d get peckish mid afternoon, and we went back to the church.

Convention started with various matters of business. The chicken-and-bacon wrap was consumed at about 16h, during the coffee break. Eucharist followed, and then we went back to the hotel to get changed, and to meet up to go to the restaurant. It was about a 15 minute walk from the hotel.

I can’t remember the name of what I had, but it was very delicious, involving duck and red curry sauce. I was the only person who wrote down what they had ordered, so I got my meal with no confusion at all. Others were unsure what they’d ordered and so who knows if they received the correct meals?! “Was mine with minced chicken?” “I think mine was green curry?” etc etc.  Nick, Pippa & I left quite early as we were still very tired.

Friday was a big day, as this was the day we started the ballots for our new Bishop-in-Charge…I chose the same breakfast (plus a pain au chocolat) and Nick drove us up to the church. We’d decided to miss Morning Prayer, just to give ourselves plenty of recuperation time. Pippa, as a non voting spouse, took the option of going on the Battlefield tour (which she said was interesting but exhausting) but Nick & I were fully involved. The ballots were interspersed with other business, reports and so forth, so it was an interesting and informative morning. About 30 minutes after each vote had been cast, Felicity, one of the tellers (vote counters) from All Saints, would come silently into the room and hand a folded piece of paper to the Bishop, who would then wait for a break in the proceedings to announce the results. My preferred candidate, and another, dropped out after the first two ballots – I think it’s a shame, as I suspect Steven’s votes would have grown during the following “battle”, but there you go…

Lunch was provided by the Church catering team – delicious soups (choice of four – pumpkin, carrot and lentil, tomato with meatballs, tomato. I had the pumpkin and it was yummy.), with various quiches and salads – and deep, intense conversations were carried out as we compared our thoughts on the two remaining candidates. Interestingly, while the votes were close, it was clear that the majority of the clergy preferred one candidate and the majority of the laity preferred the other.

The afternoon session opened with prayer, and then further ballots, and other business. Still neither candidate was receiving a majority in both the clergy and laity vote, so there was some discussion regarding how this might be resolved…The Bishop finally said he would take advice overnight, but not to worry, as these things could go to more than 10 ballots and we had to simply pray,and to be open, and to trust that the Holy Spirit would guide us . The session closed, and we headed back to the hotel to rest, to opnder and to get changed for the Bishop’s Banquet.

This time of rest gave me an occasion to consider. With my preferred candidate out of the running, I’d actually been dithering between the two remaining: which should I choose? I’d heard people’s views, and had been flip-flopping between the two candadates, half thinking I shouldn’t keep changing my mind. But Paul Gordon could offer this….But Mark can help us do that….In my deliberations, one of them was winning on the “Taking the Convocation Forward” front, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite seeming less exciting, one was more “right” than the other. Finally, as I thought about the two of them (both great candidates) I had a sense of peace about the one I’d voted for last. Don’t worry if he doesn’t seem quite “right”, the Spirit seemed to say, “Trust me.” So I did. I voted for this candidate in the rest of the ballots.

Feeling at peace, I had a short snooze and then got changed for the Bishop’s Banquet (Dress: elegant) It was in a rather nice function room/restaurant, about a 20 minutes coach ride away. We had some glasses of fizzies before the meal, and then several little amuses bouches– roast beef on horse radish cream, salmon on avocado, gazpacho etc. – while a talented acapella group sang various folk songs. After there was a choice of seafood, Thai or “Mediterranean” cooking. I’m always slightly dubious about shellfish and so on, and I’d had Thai food the night before,  so I went for the mediterranean – moussaka, and various cold vegetable dishes. Enjoyable, but nothing special.

The Bishop gave his speech, and gave out awards – always a bit emotional – to those who had done particularly good work through the year. Followed by dessert (several delicious cakes to choose from – I went for raspberry) and coffee, we headed home in the coaches at about 23h.

It seemed important to go to Morning Prayer on Saturday, so we had a quicker breakfast than the past couple of days, and headed to church. The service was led by Revd Katie Osweiler, the curate at the church. She had just had some terrible news that a friend and neighbour back in the US had been killed outside his house. She was trying to process the news as well as lead us in worship, so, as you can imagine, it was an emotional service.

The spouses went off for a day in Brussels, while we then headed into the next round of ballots, which was still a stalemate. So Bishop Pierre suggested we took a long coffee break and spoke to as many people as we could, outlining what we saw as the good points of both candidates. We were not trying to convince people of our view, but rather trying to discern which we felt was the right person; I was happy to stick with what I felt I was being led to do. So after coffee break we went in to the next ballot (N° 7) – result: another stale mate, with the laity majority for one, and the clergy majority for another, but with a significant movement in the clergy vote.

Time for lunch – again, prepared by the Church hospitality team, we had tacos and tortillas with all the trimmings. Over lunch much discussion ensued, but also time for some relaxation. Nick went outside “to watch the cars go past”, I hadn’t had much time to eat as I had to help Richard, the secretary, prepare a paper for the afternoon session.I would have liked to have gone back for more lunch, but didn’t have time!!

We had the next ballot, and Denis our Treasurer gave his report…I always find budgets very difficult to get my head round, but other people asked insightful questions and the time passed relatively quickly. When all the tellers trooped back into the room, instead of just Felicity, we knew that a result had been reached. Mark Edington had been elected. The press release read thus:

The Rev. Mark D.W. Edington of the Diocese of Massachusetts has been elected the next Bishop in Charge of the Convocation of Episcopal Churches in Europe. He was elected on the eighth ballot on October 20, 2018. The election took place during the annual Convention of the Convocation in All Saints Church in Waterloo Belgium. 

Our Profound Thanks

The Convocation of Episcopal Churches in Europe expresses its profound thanks to The Rev. Canon Paul-Gordon Chandler, The Rev. Steven Paulikas, and The Very Rev. Dr. Benjamin Shambaugh for offering themselves as nominees in this Bishop election process as we discerned the direction and future of the Convocation. We thank their families, and their parish and ministry families for their support and prayers during this process. We ask God’s richest blessings on their continuing work in the Lord’s vineyard.

It was rather difficult to concentrate after that, especially as the Bishop was the one who phoned Mark – and had him on speakerphone held next to the microphone so we could hear his reaction. Which was measured, and considered, and humble. A murmur of appreciation ran round the room on hearing it. One of the priests who had been voting for Paul Gordon, rather than Mark, gave a brief speech, emphasising that while he, and others who were disappointed, were 100% behind Mark they still needed time to deal with their feelings and please could people be sensitive to the fact that there were people in the room who were not in an ebullient mood. Which, I’d like to think, everyone was.

Business continued, while others more techie than I set up a Skype call with Mark (who, by this time, had been awake over in the US, for more than 36 hours, waiting for the results – as after every ballot the candidates had been phoned with the results) Here he is addressing the Convention

Finally, the end of a long day was reached. Although there was Evening Prayer planned, several of us felt too tired to attend, so we went back to the hotel. I dozed for a while, but then felt really rather hungry (having missed out on seconds at lunch time) So I took my drawing materials, went to the bar and had a beer and a packet of crisps and some complementary peanuts; I sat in a quiet corner for an hour zentangling and thinking and decontracting.

Nick drove us back to All Saints where a caterer and the Hospitality team, had prepared another excellent meal…I ended up sitting on a table with people I didn’t know very well, but by now it was OK. I felt much more at ease than at the beginning of the Convention. We started with “fish three ways” – a mackerel paté, a tomato stuffed with tiny shrimps, and a piece of salmon in sauce – which was lovely. Then there was a choice of pork in a Kriek beer sauce (cherry) or Chicken Waterzooi (a rich stew and soup of chicken or fish, vegetables, cream and eggs). I’m afraid I had a helping of both; I think I preferred the pork, but it was a close run thing. Vegetarian options were available. Dessert was a choice of more delicious cakes – again, I chose a raspberry/vanilla concoction.

Then we were led upstairs, where Felicity had set up a slide show of some of the creative arts that had taken place throughout the Convocation, and announced the creation of the  Whalon Fund for the Creative Arts – our “gift” to Pierre, our outgoing Bishop. Pierre was very touched.

Soon after, Nick, Pippa and I headed back to the hotel, although I believe dancing went on well into the night. I met Caireen, our rector’s wife, at the bar and we decided to have a quiet, relaxing nightcap…Sadly, because of an upset person (I can’t say more) it turned into a less-than-relaxing counselling session, but I hope that we were able to do some good. I got to bed at about half past midnight!

On Sunday it was the closing Eucharist, but before church I wanted to buy some flowers for the person who had been very upset the evening before. I’d already noticed a florists not too far from the hotel, on our travels up and down the road to the church, so I checked what time it opened and scooted out to get them. I was able to buy a sweet little bouquet which could be popped into a little carrier bag that I had, so as not to be obvious. I think the recipient was grateful.

The Eucharist was an emotional, triumphant, delightful affair which touched me a great deal. Lunch was again provided afterwards, and then we dispersed for our various destinations all over Europe.

My journey home was not, however, as relaxing as I had hoped. But, as this has already gone on far too long, I’ll tell you about that another time!

Moving day…Holiday Day 6

Not a terribly successful day in some ways…

We decided to have a look around Miasino, the village just above the B&B, before we went and to visit the botanical garden there. After wandering around for a while, trying to find the botanical garden, we eventually discovered it was closed until the afternoon.

As we were heading for Turin, we thought it best not to wait, and set off for the big city. It only took a couple of hours to get there, so having sussed out where (we thought) the next B&B was, we headed into the suburb of Turin called Moncaliari above which the AirB&B was situated.

We found a nice little restaurant for lunch: I had home made pasta with a simple tomato sauce, and Mr FD had a meat-and-cheese platter. We arranged to meet the owner of the place at 15h, so we drove up to where we thought it was, and waited in the car. After a while a suspicious woman came out and asked what we were doing. With a mixture of French, Italian and English we worked out we were in the wrong place, despite the sat nav telling us we were in the right place. After a bit of faffing, we found the farm, and Nicola, our host. We put our stuff in the room and decided to go to Asti, the centre of sparkling wine making…

The trip wasn’t successful. Mr FD was tired and hot, and didn’t feel like looking round the city so was grumpy. After about 30 minutes we admitted defeat, called in at a supermarket to buy some wine and went back to Moncalieri. Dinner was in a sweet little restaurant with a tiny terrace, where I started with caremalised cheese

Not a good photo, but the cheese was delish!

Then we both had a sort of leek flan with a creamy sauce

and then a very enjoyable dessert, which I can’t remember, and forgot to take a photo of!

Then up the long and winding road to the farm. The family were having a birthday party, so it was a bit noisy, but we didn’t mind; it was an exceptional circumstance, so we wished Papa Buon compleanno which pleased him, and went to bed with ear plugs in!

 

Speed King!…Holiday Day 5

Thursday 6th Sept

Mr FD wanted to do another ride, over the mountains between Lake Orta and Lake Maggiore, so I said I was happy to go back to Stresa to do some shopping and look around the town a bit more. So he set off, and I followed about half an hour later. I found a parking spot and walked into town. I’d just had time to start browsing, when I got a text saying Mr FD was back at the car. WHAT?! I’d hardly got started!!!

So my shopping was curtailed very abruptly, and I went back to meet him. Just in time, as the rain swept in. We had a picnic lunch, so decided to see if the weather cleared as we drove to Mottarone – a 1491m high mountain, offering views of seven lakes. While the clouds denied us views of all seven lakes, we certainly could see four or fiv

.

And on the top of the mountain was Alpyland

a kind of cross between a Big Dipper and a bob sleigh. The rider has control of the speed, as there is a lever that acts as both brake and accelerator, so you can decrease speed if you’re scared. We both went on it, but I have to admit it wasn’t my cup of tea at all! Mr FD loved it however, and had another go.

He said he went faster the second time round! Having got a taste for speed, he then decided to ride down from the top of the mountain. So he got back into his cycle gear, and off he went.

I followed in the car; I went at a speed I felt comfortable with on the mountain road, and I didn’t catch him up until we were very nearly back at the B&B. I overtook him with about a kilometre to go, and he had caught me up again before I had finished parking the car! He did an average of 37.5 km per hour! Speed King, indeed!

After showering, we headed back to the village of Orta SG again. We called in to see Dario, the owner of the B&B, in his gallery Oot and admired his work. He & MrFD talked about prog rock, a shared music passion, while I looked around the gallery. We then walked along the lakeside in the evening light, Mr FD taking lots of arty shots of boats and views.

This was my effort at an arty shot

We then headed to a rather posh hotel to have an apero on the lakeshore…

A Bellini for me, a beer for Mr FD, and some tasty snacks too.

and then went to have a lakeside meal in a very nice restaurant.

We had a shared charcuterie plate, and then I had Osso Bucco, with saffron rice, which was delicious, but very rich!

We then had a last gelato from the very good artisan gelato shop. I was persuaded to try a boule of what I think was bilberry, and the gelato man (gelatoteer?) suggested a creamy cream flavour to go with it. It was good, but maybe not my favourite. Mr FD had Cheesecake flavour.

Not my hand. Not my ice cream. Not actually my photo!

Then back to the B&B for the last time…

Trains and boats…Holiday Day 4

Wednesday 5th Sept

We set off early to pick up a train at Stresa, which would take us to Domodossola, where we would get on the Panoramic Train. This goes to Locarno in Switzerland, at the head of Lake Maggiore, from where a boat sails down the lake, back to Stresa. We had booked each part separately, being unaware that the Maggiore Express existed, which looks even nicer than the tour we did. But never mind…

Everything went swimmingly – the panoramic train was a delight, with splendid views around every corner.

I didn’t get many shots, as there were reflections from the window, and by the time I’d realised I wanted to take a picture, the view had gone…so finally I decided to just enjoy the ride and to not worry about taking photos.

Arriving in Locarno, we hurried down to the lake side to book the boat back, and then had lunch: slightly disappointing and expensive! I had “Salad Nicoise” – basically green salad with a tin of tuna tipped onto it – while Mr FD had very stodgy gnocchi with a gorgonzola sauce. We bought a nutty cinnamon swirl from a bakery for dessert and then went up the funicular to view across Locarno.

After a walk around the heights, we descended into the town again, and spent an hour sitting in the shade on the lakeside promenade, as it was very warm. People watching and dog watching passed the time nicely, and then we went to embark on the boat.

The trip down the lake took 2.5 hours, and was very pleasant, with views on every side. However, I think I may have taken this one after my enormous gin-and-tonic apero, as I haven’t lined it up very well!!

A lot of forest and not much yacht!

All aboard the Skylark!

There was a large group of English people on the boat, so we chatted to some of them, as well as just sitting and enjoying the warmth of the sun, tempered by a breeze. When we docked in Stresa, we had a little wander round, but were getting hungry, so found a restaurant for dinner. We both had a very yummy pizza, and then bought a gelato (there’s a surprise!) I had 2 boules: melon and banana which were very pleasant. A stroll along the waterfront in the balmy evening air finished the day off nicely!