Strasbourg's Notre Dame and MORE!

The huge cathedral casts its shadow over the whole city.

In front of the cathedral, street musicians play The Theme From The Godfather

Strasbourg, the capital of Alsace, is only about an hour and a half away.  Well, unless you have no GPS, and no map.  Then you pick and feel your way along the byways, or pull out your sextant…whoops, only works at night.  Sun shots are tough and even tougher when you’re driving on what in the U.S. would be a practice stretch at the Daytona Speedway.

Germany into France is seamless these days.  The signage changes, the speed drops from blazing to scorching.  Houses in the small towns seem a little more down at the mouth.  Rolling green, wooded hills and miles of open green pasture, strewn with languid cows and sheep don’t change.

I got to the center of Strasbourg in under two hours, which immediately called for cold beer at an outdoor café.   I like an Alsatian brew, Fischer. Fortunately, there are cafés aplenty, sprawling out in the plaza in front of the famous cathedral. 

Quench your thirst and hustle over to the Tourist Information Center, in the same square as the cathedral.

First question:  What do you like to do when you get to a new city?  Take a tour?  Pick out the best of the best from a guidebook?  Pull out the mandatory list acquaintances you don’t even like forced on you? 

Cast off that shadow of shame and doubt.  Be bold.

Gugelhupf - something like a Bundt Cake, in every bakery window.

I say, screw ‘em.  I like to pick out a spot or two that appeals to me.  If you said bars and outdoor cafés you’d be on the right track.  But, also I have to give the deity his/her/its due. Sentences get so complicated when you do your best to appease everyone’s point of view.  I should have added non-deity somewhere, but I do have my limits.

Back to Strasbourg and it’s cathedral.   Can’t miss it.  Center of the city.  A single tower makes it look a little cockeyed, because they never got around to building the twin. Cathedral of Our Lady of Strasbourg is the proper name, but its also called Strasbourg Minster.

Parts of the cathedral were begun in the early 13^thCentury, but it wasn’t complete and open until a hundred years later.  Very impressive Gothic construction, over 460 feet high, with huge flying buttresses and lace-like stonework.  One of the many points of interest is inside, at the Astronomical Clock, where the twelve apostles parade before Christ every day at 1230.  Get there early.  The faithful and the gawkers press in like poor relatives at the reading of the will.

“Built” and “complete” are interesting terms.  Places of worship have occupied the site of this cathedral since Roman times, including several previous Christian churches.  Used to be the tallest cathedral in Europe until the Lutherans in Hamburg outdid themselves in the middle of the 19^th Century and built St. Nicolas Church.  Still Strasbourg’s Cathedral of Our Lady is still the 6^th tallest church in the world. And you’re still walking where Roman sandals scuffed the stones.

Want a thirsty experience?  Climb the 330 stone stairs…steep, narrow stairs…to the top.  Worth the gasping trip for a beautiful panorama of the entire city.  While you stroll above the rooftops, note all the graffiti from the Middle Ages.  Etchings crowd around the arched doorways.  Along the way, you’ll get a fantastic view of the flying buttresses.

Yes, there’s more to Strasbourg than a cathedral. There are museums and architectural wonders to keep you entertained, but I went to the heart of the old quarter, called Le Petite France.  Lots of half-timbered buildings.  Right on the canal and a perfect spot to find an outdoor café, bite into some lunch and sample some of the justly famous Alsatian wines or beers.

Most of the buildings in the old quarter belonged to tanners, who made use of the canal.  The buildings date mostly from the 16^th and 17^th Centuries.

Passing out of the narrow lanes of Le Petite France, you won’t want to miss the long covered bridge and the old city towers.  Near the towers, right on the canal is one of my favorite Strasbourg restaurants, L’Ami Schutz. Beautiful interior, yet cozy.  Alsatian specialties galore.

The Covered Bridge, designed by the famous military engineer, Vauban, around 1681, gates within could be opened and the southern part of the city flooded for defense.

Stroll the streets some more. Check out La Place Gutenberg, with a statue of the man himself and one of the most beautiful Renaissance buildings in the city, the former city-hall, built in 1585.  By the way, although he was born in Germany, Gutenberg lived in Strasbourg for ten years or more, developing his printing press.

La Place Gutenberg

Time to wander again, but not too far.  Pick out a bakery.  Eat some macaroons.  Grab a cup of coffee.  Feel more like a beer?  Ok.  No quarreling with that.

With the Cathedral tolling near six post meridian (meridiem in Latin), it’s time to find my car, pay the toll and figure out that taking the highway North means heading toward Paris, even though Paris is west of here.  No GPS, no map?  No problem.

Just Another Little Two Hour Lunch In the Alsace

I’m writing about Le Biblenhof , not because it’s special, which it is, but because it gives some idea of the perfection one can expect in the area of France known as The Alsace.  Wines galore, of course, but also dining at it’s best.  This special spot is located just 20 minutes east of Strasbourg, on Route des Vins d'Alsace, the Alsatian Wine Road.

But there's no real need to pick out a special, renowned restaurant, one that’s mentioned in all the guides, and spoken of in New York Times restaurant reviews.  In the Alsace, you can throw a dart at a map and hit a superb place for lunch or an evening of exuberant succulence.

Just to prove my point, about a year ago, a group of us darted here and there, looking at castles, sampling wine, and exploring.  Suddenly, a hunger came out of nowhere.  Only problem was, we hadn’t watched the clock and many French restaurants close for lunch around 2 p.m. and don’t open again until close to 6 p.m.

We drove through town after town.  Out of raw hunger and growing despair, we finally stopped at an unlikely spot in a small village.  From the outside, the place had all the allure of a Denny’s attached to a truck stop.  Inside, we were shocked to find semi-rowdy groups claiming most of the tables, sipping wine and downing some spectacular looking food.

As I often say, the French can teach anyone how to eat!  As a great friend of mine once said, when told by a physician “You need to change the way you eat.”

His reply, “We don’t eat, we dine!”  He could have been talking about the whole French nation.

I thought the Japanese were fanatics on freshness.  But, Nippon has nothing on France.  These folks don’t buy vegetables that aren’t stained with fresh dirt.  Cheeses don’t just vary by name and location, but also by use and age and an indelible sense of pairing.  And wine?  Every French person I’ve met can talk about a wine’s nuances with the very best oenologist.  They don’t eat, they dine!

Once again we found ourselves hungry in the Alsace.  Once again we picked a restaurant at random, but his one had the charm of a historic chateau.  Old stone walls lent a regal presence.  We would have gone inside anyway, just to satisfy our curiosity. But when we pulled into the parking lot at the restaurant and hotel Le Biblenhof, we fully expected a fine lunch.  We weren’t disappointed.

An Array of Tiny Breads

Even the sweet butter was special!

...as fragrant and elegant as a warm ceviche.

Roasted Sea Bass on a bed of diced root vegetables.

Veal-stuffed Cannelloni over stewed wild mushrooms.

To finish, coffee and a bit of sweets.

I love it when the wait staff is properly trained, holding their dignity and even a little Gallic charm as they offer suggestions and take your order.  I tried out my aging French, while the waiter, in black trousers and white, starched shirt, took our order and tried out his brand new Anglais.   We began with glasses of Crémont, the Alsatian version of Champagne.  Along with that came a picture perfect array of tiny breads, with sweet butter.  Next, compliments of the chef, a small goblet of fish and vegetables, in a spectacular fish broth.  This was truly worth a stop and I’m certain it will be again.  Vive la France!

I could write on and on, but the photos tell the whole story.  Bottom line: Just pick a restaurant.  You won’t be disappointed either.

http://www.lebiblenhof.fr/fr/

Ribeauville: Another Jewel of the Alsace

Coming out of Rodern and still craving adventure, we trolled the country-side.  Still too early in the spring to put the top down on the Bimmer, but still fun on the narrow, winding roads that twist through the vineyards.  Vineyards.  With that simple word, most would picture a plot of land, maybe even a large plot.  But this is the Alsace.  Everything that’s not a road or a village is a vineyard.  Neat and cultivated rows of vines stretch like thin black ribbons, as far as you can see, across the flatland, and smoothly rolling with the low hills, until finally caressing the slopes of the mountains.

A road sign with an arrow reads:  Ribeauville.  Never been there.  Not yet. 

We leave the vineyards and roll into a town right out of the middle-ages.  For the avid sightseer, nothing beats the Alsace. All you need are some jingle in your pocket, and a sporty car.  Throw predetermined destination aside.  Just drive.  Be prepared to tap the brakes and park at the slightest provocation.

Keep a notebook and pen at hand, along with at least a pocket camera.  You’ll want to jot down the names of towns, the names of wines, general impressions.  Without a bit of a hint, memories melt.  The Alsace is a Disney-set on the grandest of scales.  Small villages.  Towns.  Cities.  All of them pop up with astonishing regularity. Each a jewel worthy of movie-star sunglasses, a casually swung scarf, and café-au-lait at a sidewalk café. Linger as if you belong and the tourists that pass are oh so passé.

In one small town, of which I will write more on another day, we stumbled into a remarkable chocolate shop.  Found out later, it was named one of the five best in France.  That’s the way life is when you allow yourself the time to meander aimlessly.  Expect the unexpected, such as:

A stork guards its nest, high on a steeple

Down below, an Aston Martin

Ribeauville was like that chocolate shop on a grander scale.  Half-timbered buildings.  Cobblestone streets.  Cafés whose tables and patrons spill out onto the old walking street.

The town, which is located 10 miles (16 km) north of Colmar and 47 miles (75 km) south of Strasbourg, kneels at the feet of the Vosges Mountains.  Heard of the Vosges?  More than a name, it’s the birthplace of the famous Rhine River. Across the border is the equally famous Black Forest.

Ribeauville’s history fades back to the 8^thCentury.  Here’s an interesting tidbit:  the local king/prince/BMOC was the protector of wandering minstrels.  They paid protection money, of course.  That went on until the late 17^th Century, when the noble family died out.  So these day, street musicians are on their own, but seem unconcerned by the change.  We heard a middle-aged woman, standing in front of a candy shop (confiserie), croon a wonderful version of La Vie En Rose.  Tune into youtube while you browse the Ribeauville photos (below). The song will make your eyes and heart well up.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g6TvCo9r3GM

Lots to do in the ville.  Old churches: St Gregory and St Augustine.  Castles: St Ulrich, Girsburg, and Haut Ribeaupierre.  As with most castles, these dominate the heights overlooking the city and through the centuries were built, destroyed, and rebuilt.

Or, you can do what we did and simply wander the remarkable streets.  Find a bread shop (boulangerie), pastry shop (patisserie), or just a friendly café.  Sit.  Watch the world go by and marvel at your good fortune.