From Cognac to Bordeaux – Dude, where’s my car?

Another day, another curb. Being serenaded by a mixture of solids hits from the 70s and 80s on Cherie FM and a hip selection of 5 of the latest commercial hits on constant rotation on SkyRock, we made our way through the meandering farmlands of Aquitaine.

Waking up in Poitiers was something special, as the near deserted town of the night before was completely closed up the next day until about 11am. When office hours actually do take place we never established, but we did manage to take in the town’s historic walking tour at our own pace in the warm morning sunshine (three different routes were available, each marked by a colour coded line on the pavements, simploe to follow and very interesting), and really enjoyed this refined intellectual experience nearly as much as finding an open FNAC and buying ourselves a European GPS (life changing!). With new TomTom in hand, conveniently shouting at us as we flipped Shirley’s left right and centre in the form of a friendly male Irish voice known as ‘Sean’, ‘General De Gaulle’ hurtled towards some of the most celebrated vineyards in the world.

Despite springing a definite leak under the glove compartment of the passenger side, we safely entered Cognac around midday and let the day drinking begin! In Cognac, Gary managed to not only sweet talk our way not only into the Tourist office’s free Wi-Fi (pronounce whiff-hee in a French accent), but also the last English language tour of the Hennessey headquarters for the day. After a quick boat trip across the Charente river (which cuts across the entire region of Pitou-Charentes), we were able to explore the distillery, cellars and bar of the Hennessey compound. We learnt that although all Cognac is Brandy, not all Brandy is Cognac and the importance of the weather, soil and water distribution of the region on the making on one of the world's most well-loved digestif cannot be overstated. Four generations of one family have been blending the Cognac here - a true artform.

From Cognac, we headed down towards Bordeaux – a slightly tense experience seeing as the light was beginning to fade and we had no idea where we would be staying that night. Luckily, Jan (my mother and travel aficionado extraordinaire), ably assisted by 'Sean', led us to a wonderful chateau, Chateau de Meyre, in the Medoc-Margaux region of the wine lands. Despite disturbing his family dinner in the after-haze of the 40 degree day, the friendly caretaker of the grounds let us in at around 8.30pm that night and we settled into one of the gorgeous rooms of the Pavilion - overlooking the grapevines, gravel roads and rose garden of the estate. Ah, bliss!

Blois - Orelans - Tours - Poitiers: The Grand Old Dames of Central France

And we are on the road again! Although I only got two hours of the driving schedule (I was pulled out of the circuit due to alleged ‘excessive speeds’ – if you’re not in the fast lane you’re taking up too much space!), I got to experience the special phenomenon my dear husband was dealing with daily – the magnetic right hand pull. What is it about the right hand side of the road that has such strong allure? I might have been to blame somewhat, as it’s only really when I intermittently yell out ‘Wow, that’s stunning. Maaaagical’ and motioned violently towards my passenger window that Gary momentarily takes his eyes off the road and, in this default subconscious driving state, we narrowly miss a five ton truck and clip a curb or two (don’t worry kids, it’s a rental).

We drove through the town of Blois, the capital of the Loire-Et-Cher area of central France situated on the lower banks of the Loire river. Although it’s dark and remarkable past includes historical highlights such as acting as a relief base for Joan of Arc’s army in 1429 and experiencing years of Nazi occupation during World War 2, we had our sights set on places beyond the Foret de Russy and therefore saw most of the town hurtling past us through the windows of 'General de Gaulle'.

After Blois we pulled into the mysterious city of Orleans which, at midday on a very hot and humid Sunday, was seemingly deserted. Orleans is situated in the Loiret region and has a very religious and spiritual history. The city has a beautiful old centre, with much of the streets and houses in their original historical state. We jumped out the car and headed straight to see the famous façade of Orleans main cathedral, whose giant stone walls seemed to emit a cool breeze which had attracted the scattered tourists from the nearby streets to sit under its Gothic ramparts. In the shadow of the cathedral sits a small very locked up shul and Jewish community centre, and Gary took some interesting pics of its stain-glass windows.

Winding through the medieval alleyways, we did come across a hidden little square where a jazz band were setting up a stage for their evening show and performing a very lively sound-check. Pulling up a few chairs and beers at the nearby café, we enjoyed the music and the buzz of the lunching locals for an hour or two. Incidentally, the square which we had stumbled upon was watched over by a statue of John Calvin and by default we had sat outside the home in which he had been accommodated in the town during his studies at the University of Orleans.

After the heat and stillness of Orleans, we legged it to Tours but landed up in the city at around 5pm in the afternoon just as the Sunday markets were closing up. We did manage to catch a bit of the antique stalls down the main tree-lined boulevard and, asking everyone who passed us by where the nearest café shop was (they were all closed) we were very generously offered delicious baked treats from the market boulangerie in sympathy.

Deciding that the day had more in store for us, Gary and I decided to careen through more French countryside to land up in the quirky capital of Poitiers. A town also given significant religious stature (it was the sight of the French catholic armies turning the tide against the Muslim Moorish invaders), the old town is peculiarly situated on a hill within a deep depression in the land, so that the surrounding forested countryside sits at the same level as the towns cathedral spires and watchtowers. After a series of illegal parking moments and a comedy of errors trying to find the tourist office for advice on where to find a room to sleep in at 8pm at night, we eventually landed up at the ‘Grand Hotel’ (probably grand in the 70s, when it was last refurbished) which boasts, although curiously not on its brochure, the most unfriendly and strange staff in all of the Republic. Oh well, and least it’s a bed and not a car seat …

Shabbat amongst the Cathedrals - Chartres

And after a long day trekking through the Palace of Versailles, we piled into our trusty black Renault Clio, adeptly named ‘General De Gaulle’ (to truly capture its pure French awesomeness, it was a toss-up between this and Joan D’ Arc), and headed off into the French countryside.

We made our way through the north eastern area of Ile De France, passing the forest-rich town of Rambouillette which is known not only for its ancient history (the famous Castle and being an occasional seat of government under the ancien regime) but also for more recent events (the infamous 1999 NATO meeting which proved unsuccessful in averting the Kosovo war). Finally in the afternoon, with Shabbat preparations looming, we pulled into the wonderful city of Chartres.

Chartres is in the Eure-Et-Loir region of France and is known as the capital of ‘light and perfume’. It is the home of one of the oldest and best preserved cathedrals in France, believed to be the finest example of High French Gothic architecture and dating back to the twelfth century. Chartres is also one of the French medieval towns which pioneered the creation and development of the art of stain-glass.

We had a truly unforgettable Shabbat amongst the cathedrals and church bells of this historic place. The cathedral, although striking an imposing shadow over not just the town but the entire landscape surrounding Chartres due to its enormous size, emanates a warm and peaceful atmosphere around it. The Friday night on which we were there fell on the special ‘Water Festival’ that the town holds occasionally – where sections of the Eure river, which carve through the medieval ‘old town’ of Chartres, are illuminated by special lights and French bands play their music for the public along the banks. The city also has an on-going festival every night during the summer months where over 20 key monuments and buildings across Chartres are illuminated with special light shows to the rhythm of different music – a uniquely magical experience!

We spent most of the night walking around the town in the warm summer breeze, surrounded by dozens of other tourists and locals, stopping at each of the special sites and watching the dancing lights and music unfold the stories of the buildings and the town’s past. The bringing to life in such a modern way, with highly innovative and expensive light and sound technology, of the most ancient structures, and with such French flair, was a spectacular sight.

Gary and I even decided to stop and watch the dance and poetry performances happening outside the Chartres Cathedral, after which the crowd was invited to take a short tour. The instructions and descriptions of this tour were all in French and we did not really have the faintest clue of what was going on but, what with our impressive streak of free tour luck recently, we decided to tag along. To cut a long story short, and keeping my claustrophobia in mind, we nearly got locked in the largest crypt in France in the dark at around midnight. Luckily, we managed to spot a moment to break away from the group and free ourselves and with Gary’s superb navigation in the dark, we safely found our way back to our hotel.

The accommodation in Chartres was really affordable but very basic. I was quite impressed when Gary agreed to waive his strict ‘3 star minimum’ policy and stay at the ‘Le Boeuf’ Hotel (The Beef – we should’ve known!). This cute but very petit hotel was located right next door to the Dickens Bar (what the dickens?) which was seemingly the pumping nightly hotspot of Chartres. Returning from the near-crypt escapade we were needless to say very happy to see our hotel room. That is until turn-down, where Gary’s facial expression at the worn, holey sheets was a perfect picture of despair. After a few moments of recovery, he duly cracked open his Cape Union Mart ‘Extreme emergency Travel Sleeping Bag Inner’ and the two pillowcases he had snuck past me from home and he went to sleep in his sanitized cocoon. Hilarious!

The next day was spent Shabbos picnicking in the gardens beside the ancient Chartres labyrinth, in the warm sun with Nuns passing us by. We also got caught up in the retinue photos of not one but two exquisite weddings which had taken place in the cathedral. What a town!

Au Revoir Paris – ‘Allo Versailles!

After an entire week in Paris, I cannot begin to explain how we left the big city and drove into the countryside minus a GPS, sim card and 3G but we did. We never seemed to have a spare second to do anything truly practical (this may have been my influence), too much time singing in the rain I guess. So we left on the back foot, and the day we collected the car in Paris will stay with me forever.

Having left the Europcar desk with our Renault Clio and having managed to convince the assistant that no, we did not want to take her up on her offer of a truck, Gary hurriedly dropped me at the hotel to collect our bags (which were about to be tossed on the street after we exceeded our late check-out) and was going to do a simple U-turn and park outside on the curb. 45 minutes later Gary had circled both the left and right banks of Paris and done a full city-scape tour against his will. With no time to spare for frivolous extras like groceries or the abovementioned electronic goods, we headed out in our vehicle to begin the true meandering journey of ‘Embrace the Detours’.

Between Gary driving on the right-hand side of the road in a manual diesel vehicle (not his usual style) and my outstanding navigational skills, we doubled back on ourselves on every highway but eventually managed to make our way to our first stop – the incredible town of Versailles.

The Palace of Versailles is one of the most spectacular palaces in the world, and was home to some of the most interesting and controversial characters in French and world history, such as the Sun King Louis the 14thth and Marie Antoinette and King Louis the 16th. Having arrived in the town late on Wednesday evening, we decided to tackle the crowds and the mammoth Palace the following day.

Having had a quick espresso in a café across from the ‘Front National’ offices next to a man who looked suspiciously like Le Pen, slightly awkward once again (how do we keep getting ourselves in these situations?), we spent the rest of the day trying in vain to absorb all the beauty, splendour and spectacular excess of the Palace and its grounds along with the incredible and varied history of the buildings and its occupants via our trusty audio guides. The real gem is of course the immaculately, almost with surgical precision, manicured gardens, labyrinths and walkways draw you in and we could easily have lost ourselves there for days.

There is not much to say about the Palace itself that hasn’t already been written about countless times before – the statues of Apollo and Mars, the Room of Mirrors, the chandeliers, the portraits, it is all too much to believe. We were both particularly drawn to the Petit Trianon, a small chateau located in the grounds of the Palace of Versailles which once formed part of Marie Antoinette’s estate. The whimsically decorated rooms, flowerbeds, fountains and facades do not have the gold-leafed grandeur of the Palace but gave you a real feel for what it must have been like to actually live in Versailles all those hundreds of years ago. Although very beautiful and removed from the hustle and bustle of the courts, the buildings also reminded me of the loneliness of the women of the Palace who, although criminally indulged in every way, were mostly forced into lives which must have been very constrained, sad and unnatural. A place of escape, you don’t need to stretch your imagination too far at the Petit Trianon to experience a time slip and picture Marie Antoinette strolling through the walkways and gazebos.

Next to the sheer wealth of the place and its past inhabitants, another striking point about Versailles is the realization that not many lessons have been learnt from its history. It is no wonder that a leadership surrounded by sculptures and paintings of mythological heroes falsely recast as part of their own heritage and divine right to rule could be so utterly out of touch with the people and the reality of life under their rule but, in various contexts, this type of phenomenon still plays out in the world today. It struck us both that the continued disparity between classes in societies which has shaped so much of world history has still not been solved and changing these kinds of social structures and realities is a responsibility which weighs heavily on each generation.

That evening, Gary and I walked through the town which surrounds the Palace, a quaint old village which has expanded into a fully-fledged city today and has quite a few charming areas and sights to see, such as the fish and herb markets in the centre.

But we were off the following morning towards the Loire Valley to find a place for Shabbat …

Paris continued ...

Friday night was a highly unusual experience. We found a very helpful Rabbi at the Chabad Champs Elysee and organized to attend their Friday night dinner. We knew it would be an interesting night, what with the two hour walk home from the shul to our hotel in Bastille, but we could never have imagine just how unusual the company and the experience would prove to be! Having spent the first few days in France being advised that it may not be safe to wear a kippa and going back and forth, Gary and I walked the entire length of Paris, in the middle of the night, accompanied not only by a very friendly half-Chinese Chabadnik who also converted named Arik but by an African American Belz Hasid from Brooklyn, in full traditional clothing. Needless to say we caused quite a stir on the streets, but our conversation with Moshe Levi ben David, the Hasid, was one of the most interesting religious discussions I have ever had in my life.

He spoke to us with a rap staccato, littered with Yiddish phrases, about his own story growing up in the inner city, his rap past and incarceration, but also about his views on Judaism and the purpose of life. Moshe’s conception of Judaism as a call to social justice, and all religions being a tool for truth, overcoming our negative selves and loving others as you love yourself was so fascinating that I had to keep reminding myself to look around and take in the sights that we were passing.

The rest of the week was a wonderful blur of famous Parisian neighbourhoods, cafes, museums and walks along the Seine. We spent a delightful Sunday in Montmarte, walking amongst the artists and performers around Sacre Coeur and then taking part in café culture, beer and café in hand with Gary sketching and myself writing at a little bar surrounded by an antique market. We spent another day walking the entire length and breadth of the Louvre and then stumbled across a war memorial ceremony at the Arc de Triumph, where I even got a photo taken with a charming French World War 2 veteran. We spent another day strolling through the Latin Quarter, hanging around with the students on the steps of the Sorbonne and taking coffee in the boulevards of St Germaine. We sat in the Luxembourg Palace gardens with our bottle of wine and pack of cards, surveyed the Jardin du Plantes and the Natural History Museum, became regulars on the Metro and sat in the park at the foot of the Eiffel Tower.

And yes, in arguably one of the world’s capitals for art, culture, history and fashion we did indeed spent an entire day at … wait for it … EuroDisney. Yes, hopped up on rollercoasters and ice cream Gary did indeed ask a shop assistant if the Buzz Lightyear costume came in a man’s suit size 36 and yes, I do have whiplash in my spleen. Just hoping my vocal chords return to normal soon, damn you Space Mountain.

Ah Paris! I am so in love with this city and Gary has been completely won over by its charms as well – we are hopeless. Although I wish we could stay here and be Parisians forever, the next stage of our adventure is waiting for us. All we have to do, besides the minor but pressing problems of figuring out our route across France and how to even get out of Paris using the bustling road networks in rush hour, is where we even begin to find our car hire pick up point! Wish us luck x

Paris - The City of Love

Paris – The City of Love?

Well, not at first glance at least. Apparently all big metropolises around the world have dark seedy underbellies, and it seems we walked smack into the stomach of Paris. Having waited 2 hours at Charles de Gaulle International for our Air France bus into the city, we were dropped off a few blocks from the hotel and proceeded to drag our bags along the uneven cobbled streets of Bastille to our hotel – not after dragging them for half an hour in completely the wrong direction mind you. By the time the drizzle had turned into a downpour we had arrived outside our hotel, only to find two hooded youths beating the stuffing out of another, now de-hooded, youth on the pavement in front of the entrance. Awkward. We managed to sidestep the public violence and make our way into the Holiday Inn Bastille, squashing ourselves, our two bursting suitcases and our backpacks and two carry-on bags (yes, the one Gary snuck onto the flight) into one of the first lifts installed in Paris, complete with 1800s suspension. Needless to say our night greatly improved with a hearty bowl of steaming French Onion Soup straight from the oven.

We spent most of Friday hopping on and off the L’Open Bus Tour of Paris, which provided a comprehensive, albeit relatively superficial, overview of all the great sights Paris has to offer. It was wonderful showing Gary all the highlights of the city and besides for the hour and a half where we were the only two idiotsroof of the bus sitting in the rain (in extra small ponchos). Gary was really blow away by the scale of the city, the size of the buildings, statues and fountains and the pure grandeur of it all - Invalides, the Eiffel Tower, Hotel de Ville, Arc de Triumph, Champs Elysee, the Louvre, the Opera. I absolutely loved seeing not only allthe incredible historical monuments but also the street café life and bustling Parisians, all so stylish with their touch of French flair – a turquoise scarf here, red lipstick there, a panama hat and cigar everywhere! Absolutely intoxicating.

To Be Continued ...

Bonjour!

Bonjour from Paris!

Apologies for the lull in 'Embrace the Detours' activity but we had a slight WiFi crisis which is thankfully resolved for now.

Although the blog has been quiet, we certainly haven't been and a full update will follow very soon!

Au Revoir for now x

Czech this out!

Okay, apologies up front for the cheesy opening but this catchy piece of Czech humour, together with slogans such as ‘Praha Drinking Team 2011’, are all the rage on the cheap Chinese-made tourist t-shirts here. I simply had no choice.

Well, on to other things. My conference ended yesterday and I must say it was a really fantastic experience meeting so many impressive Jewish diplomats from across the globe. The level of the discussions and the calibre of the speakers was really outstanding.

Last night Gary and I decided to walk through Prague in the evening. And what an evening it was! We ended up having to run the length and breadth of the city in the pouring rain. Soaked to the bone in our sandals, we got horribly lost and my week old YDE handbag decided to split (literally). We found the humour in it and walking across the Charles Bridge at night with the haze of rain falling around the statutes was really beautiful.

And I can now say that there is nothing quite like starting a morning off in Prague by receiving an sms from Investec to let you know that your available balance is 0. Adrenaline anyone? Thankfully it was a message sent out in error and our life savings are still intact, just waiting to be completely and utterly blown on travelling Europe.

We JUST managed to catch our ‘Grand City Tour’ as the bus was pulling away from the curb and saw the sights of the city and took a very chilled boat cruise along the river – spectacular! The rest of today was spent exploring Jewish Prague, and the city has such a rich and varied history that there was an overload of things to see and learn about. The cemetery was amazing, along with visiting the grave of the great Kabbalist, scholar and the traditional creator of the Golem, the Maharal of Prague. It is like seeing the past come to life to have museums on the ghetto and Jewish persecution housed in the former synagogues and ceremonial halls of the community which have recently and so beautifully been fully restored. A particularly special moment for me was to have my Jewish museum ticket stamped at the door of the Klaus Shul by a cheerful, singing 85 year old Czech grampy, who spends his days working for the community with such a warm smile and happy heart. I wonder what historic events his own life has witnessed.

A quick note on some quirky aspects of Prague which we are still trying to understand – why does a city combine public drinking (it’s even allowed on the Metro) and Absinthe bars (yes, the real thing) with restaurants where the chairs move back and forth automatically and stalls where you can buy fried cheese with mayonnaise? Just not a great combo in my mind :-)

Tomorrow we leave Bohemia and head to Paris, the City of Love! We are too excited and not even the prospect of the first transport strike in Czech history will dampen our spirits. Chat soon x

PS To any of our readers out there, we would love to hear your feedback and travel/ general life advice (we are in need of both) so please feel free to leave a comment anytime!

The City of A Thousand Spires

Golden Prague - a fairytale of a city and the first stop on our 'Embrace the Detours' European adventure!

We landed just before Shabbat and spent the most magical Friday night here with davening at the historic Old New Synagogue and a Shabbat meal at the Chabad of Prague restaurant. The dinner brought together an ecclectic mix of people, from young bocherim to Israeli businessmen and American and European tourists, and Shabbos songs were the main means of communication across the steaming chicken soup and blintzes.

We have spent the last few days exploring the city on foot, winding through the cobbled alleyways and making our way past the cafes and beerhouses and pristine renaissance and Gothic buildings. We even ventured into the Czech Metro on Sunday to visit the beautiful Prague Castle, whose spires seem to pierce the heavens and literally take the observers' breath away. After a wonderful drink on the sides of the Vltava River (which was only briefly but very worringly disturbed by a sewerage truck backing up next to our table and pumping the pipes in the kitchen and bathroom for about 10mins), I joined my conference which will last until Tuesday and leave Gary free to do some adventuring on his own.

The mix of modern and medieval, as well as the concentration of so many historic events in one city, is what truly enchants me about Prague. One minute you are standing at the end of Wencleslas Square, part of the newer section of town, and can still hear the jiggling keys of a quarter of a million protesters' which, in 1989, heralded the arrival of the Velvet Revolution. Just a few hundred meters away lies the Old Town Square, where in 1945 Prague residents celebrated the liberation of the city through their own resistence. This square is flanked on all sides by the most spectacular churches and the astronomical clock, ancient buildings and towers which date back to the early 1100s. Even with the long and often tragic history of occupation, from the Austrian Empire to the Nazis and finally the Soviet Union, the people of the Czech Republic have a proud attachment to their capital city and culture.

We will keep in touch again soon! x

And we’re off! :-)

We left Durban on Tuesday morning before daybreak, an inexplicable and yet overwhelming smell of fish permeating the air, running through the garden in our PJs with hangovers from hell. Torches in hand, we scoured bushes and flowerbeds for crucial items of clothing which had blown off the washing line during the rain storm the night before. Fighting back the nausea at every turn, our sole pairs of jeans (every travellers’ best friend) were playing a particularly tough game of hide. However, after a drive at break-neck speed, we arrived at King Shaka with 29kgs bags in tow and said a very emotional goodbye to the family (minimal wailing).

Joburg was a blur, madly scrambling to get the last few items for the trip and preparing for Shavuot.

I am now typing this from a table at OR Tambo where, after Gary was asked why he was trying his luck with TWO carry-on bags and had the world’s largest deodrant can confiscated (in protest, he did spray most of it onto his jacket and offered it out to passers-by), we are getting ready to board.

First stop: the beautiful Bohemian city of Prague for Shabbat and a few days of conferences.

Bon voyage! x

It's the 'Final Countdown'

It’s the ‘Final Countdown’.

And just like that, the week of our big adventure has arrived! Feel it, it is here :-)

Our last week in Joburg was quite a rollercoaster. In a matter of seven days we managed to tie up a myriad of loose ends, including but not limited to:

• A quick trip to the dentist, you know - just for a check-up. Well, 4 hours of fillings spread across 2 days, I was only just beginning to regain the feeling in my ears when I had to give a speech at my farewell lunch at work. Needless to say it was a heady mix of both the emotions and the novocaine which ultimately caused me to mumble and then begin crying through my salmon bagel in front of all my office colleagues.

• Selling Gary’s car (but, funnily enough, not turning off Tracker. A nifty curveball which resulted in most of the SAPS, Tracker and Glenhazel attempting to locate, some with loaded ammunition, one of Gary’s mates who was blissfully oblivious sitting in the dungeons of a Ster Kinekor cinema).

• Sorting out Gary’s parents place, yes quite a menial task but severely spiced up with Gary stabbing himself in the hand 30mins before we had to head to the airport. 3 stitches, a tetanus and a trip to the pharmacy for antibiotics later, we got on the flight.
• Moved out of a cottage, both completed our work handovers, dealt with everything from medical aids and pension funds to panel beating cars and having a farewell get together for friends. The usual.

The last few days in the ‘Dirtbin’ have been so awesome. Not only have we got to spend some quality time with our crazy, close and boisterous family, which also means being woken up each morning with a Yorkie perched on your chest with its tongue scraping your cheek, but we have had a chance to really let the idea of our upcoming travels catch up with us.

We still have a very foggy idea of exactly where we are going, how and when but the fear, excitement and sadness of leaving loved ones is starting to hit home.

Well we are off to help cook our last family meal but will give you an update on our travel plans ASAP.