one plus two makes three: the family back together again

The morning of June 11th was a very surreal one for me. In many ways it felt similar to the evening I flew out of Boston. The days until my parents arrival had slowly ticked off but they were so drawn out that it was quite strange and exciting to know that in a mere hour or so I would be able to not just see them via skype but be able to hug them and then show them France.

I don't believe there were any troubles at all with customs or with getting bags because about an hour after the flight was supposed to land I saw them come through the door. I hadn't bought tickets for us ahead of time in case of a delay or any unforeseen difficulties so we made our way down to Terminal 2 where we bought tickets to Dijon and also RER tickets to Paris (as Charles de Gaulle is outside of the city).

Mom and Dad at lunch on their first day in France.

We decided on a train that would leave in a few hours. There was one much sooner (almost too soon) but tickets were only available in First Class and it would have been a tight squeeze with my tired traveling parents. Instead we opted for one that would arrive in Dijon at about 1PM. This turned out to be an excellent decision as it gave us time to rest outside of Gare de Lyon (where my mother first thought she might floss her teeth until I reminded her we'd just been traveling on the metro and hadn't washed our hands), get a bit of food in our system and also arrive in Dijon just after check-in at their hotel began.

Mom and Dad both fell asleep on the train - though before sleeping Dad did get quite a few Hipstamatic shots with his iPhone - and I was glad to be there so that they didn't have to worry about much more then walking.

Our arrival in Dijon was another reminder of how much warmer Dijon is than Paris which to me can be almost shockingly chilly at times. Mom, who had been worried about the fact that she had not brought pants (apparently me telling her she ought to bring a jacket was not enough of a hint that she should have also brought a pair of jeans), was relieved with the warmer weather. I was a little nervous that my parents would think their hotel was too far away when our walk from the train to the hotel felt awfully long but was quite relieved when they agreed that the fact that it was nestled in old Dijon, in a quiet area that was closest to the heart of things was best.

Mom and I at Place de la Liberation, photo via Dad and
his Hipstamatic iPhone.

Once there I checked them in in French which felt an awful like a final exam as what I was communicating was quite important. We all freshened up a bit and then set out for lunch. Mom and Dad didn't have much of a preference, so I picked a cafe in the Place de la Liberation. Mom and I both had delicious croque monsieurs with salads and Dad had an omelette. The waiters at this particular cafe could all speak English and told my parents they could have English menus but both of them chose to let me do the translating for them which made me feel quite happy with myself as one of my goals upon coming to France wasn't to achieve fluency but competency and in traveling with my parents I found I'd achieved this.

After eating we walked around Dijon, enjoying the sunshine, and all of the shops. As we'd arrived after 1PM it was too late to go to the market in Les Halles but I think we made up for this fact by walking in to a cheese shop. It must be said that most people get excited about going to France for the wine but my dad was most excited by the prospect of cheese and upon walking into a traditional cheese shop he found himself in heaven. I don't think he knew which way to look or which cheese he wanted to try.

Dad in one of his favorite sorts of shops: those that sell cheese.

I had never been into this particular cheese shop but had gone to the cheese factory and had seen my host father ask the woman there if we could have a tasting. She readily said yes and so when I asked if we could try some cheeses she asked me back "which ones?". Dad was naturally in a sort of heaven and after trying some cheeses (our 'degustation' was, like the one before, free). We bought a bit of epoisses to eat with bread for the evening and then bought a simple French baguette.

We wandered around a bit more and I pointed out some hidden bits of Dijon, gave what dates I knew of certain buildings (several of which go back to the 13th century) and also brought my parents past the chouette (owl) on the side of Dijon's Notre Dame. We ended up doing a large circle in order to touch it going in the right direction but time wasn't an issue so it didn't really matter.

Dad, reviewing his pictures, in la Place de la Liberation.

Afterwards we went back to the hotel where I helped Dad get a code to use to WIFI and then we all had a little nap until it was time for dinner. I chose crepes for our first night as I knew that not much would be open on Sunday and it was absolutely necessary to have them at least once. We did, each of us having a savory dinner crepe (mine was goat cheese and honey) and Dad and I splitting a desert crepe with chocolate and bananas.

After dinner we walked around a bit more, although all the stores were closed, and then headed back to the hotel where we had our cheese and baguette and then I headed back to my small room at Place Wilson.

The next morning I made my way to my parent's hotel. The night before I had suggested 9AM and mom and dad had both scoffed and we made the meet-up time earlier with both my parents saying they'd probably get a coffee while they waited for me. I was a bit skeptical of this because most cafes wouldn't be open before 9AM but agreed to it. I put an emphasis on them wanting to meet up earlier because at 8:30 when I pushed open their door and announced my arrival (quietly) they were blurry-eyed, very sleepy and could have probably slept well past 9AM.

My dish of canard (duck) at the restaurant Epicerie & Cie on our second
 night in Dijon.

We all had breakfast in the hotel and both my parents learned that nutella wasn't some sort of vegetable paste similar to Vegemite but actually a delicious chocolate treat. After breakfast our first mission was to find an espresso for Dad. By the end of our trip he became quite good at asking for "un double espresso à emporter". This task turned out to be much more difficult that initially anticipated and we ended up moving from seat to seat in one cafe because we weren't being served and then finally moved cafes. I've always found the process of being served in French cafes to be bizarre because you typically sit down without being seated and wait for the server to come to you. Usually it's quick but at this one particular cafe a waiter never came to us despite the fact that we were visible and clearly agitated.

Regardless of our troubles Dad did finally get his double espresso, mom did as well and I got my tea. After the caffeine intake we walked across the Place de la Liberation towards the Palais des Ducs where I hoped we'd be able to go up to le Tour de Phillipe le Bon. There were a number of scheduled times to visit the tower but there were about three differing schedules and we weren't sure. As a result we ended up waiting (sitting by the small fountains of the Place de la Liberation), then eating lunch (sandwiches to go at a bakery) and then a bit more waiting.

Beaune, via Dad.

Finally after worrying that we'd missed the scheduled time, we ascended the Tour. I'd gone up to the top once before with Kendra, Sean and Michelle but it was towards the end of winter and a tad bit overcast. This time the weather was very nice and we were able to see quite far away. I pointed out what landmarks I knew from the top but otherwise we relied upon the maps at the top. On the way down Dad purposely sneezed very loudly and it echoed throughout the tower sending Mom into fits of laughter that thankfully did not result in her tumbling down the spiraling steps of the tower.

I had been worried about what to do for Sunday as not much is open and was very relieved and excited to find out that the World Inline Skating Championships would be in Dijon, specifically at Place Wilson. Knowing this I was able to show my parents the apartment building I'd lived in, the small bathroom where I cut my foot and the room that I'd spent the last week in and then also watch the race. The two races that we saw were simultaneous and were the most advanced men's and women's races. We stayed there for a few hours, watching the progress until the men's race had a winner and until a winner for the women's became obvious. The women's winner wore a pair of sparkly pink skates which could have only been worn by someone very good (a kin to the runner who had the golden pair of cleats) and by winning she proved her worth.

The wine cellars in Beaune with some wines that go back to before WWII.

When the excitement began to die down we made our way back into town. We took a small detour so that I could see if some restaurants at Place d'Emile Zola were open. A friend had recommended one restaurant there and I hoped that it would be open so that we could have some good French food for dinner. We were rewarded and after seeing that they were open we headed back to the hotel where we had a nap and then headed back out again.

The restaurants themselves all lined the square and the outdoor seating of each filled the center of it. As it was very nice outside we chose the "terasse". Mom and Dad both had massive salads with all sorts of treats inside of them while I chose the duck. Naturally we drank Burgundy wine with our meal.

Tasting wine in one of the caves of Beaune.

The next day we left Dijon for Beaune. While Dijon is the political capital of the Burgundy region, Beaune is the capital of wine and in order to taste wine and buy the best it was best to visit. We we were able to buy inexpensive train tickets there and back again and though we missed the first train because of someone that took ages in buying one ticket we caught the next one soon after.

In Beaune our first stop was a cave that a friend had recommended but when we found out that the cave was just tasting and not a tour, we had to look elsewhere. Naturally by the time we found an alternative it was lunchtime and therefore the caves had closed. To pass the wait we visited the Wine Museum which presented a rich history of how wine in Burgundy is (and has been) made, stored and drunk. Dad remarked to a Frenchmen that came into a room where we watched a documentary on barrel making that you could see that the barrel maker was missing several fingers.

A family hug at the train station in Beaune, via Dad.

From there we bought sandwiches and some cold drinks and sat in the shade until the cave opened. The cave in particular was the Marché aux Vins which turned out to be very commercial and did not have the best wine. This was a little disappointing as far as our taste buds were concerned but I was glad we all had the experience of walking through the wine cellars and tasting wine all the while surrounded by very old wine.


After the wine tour dad bought a bottle of wine that could be drunk at the moment (and not aged) and we headed back to the train station. Naturally while there were frequent trains running from Dijon to Beaune, there were less frequent trains during the middle of the afternoon and we discovered that the next train back would not be for several hours. With this news we headed back to Beaune where we decided to buy our mustard and also our Creme de Cassis (although this could have been purchased before going to the train station) as it was likely that by the time we eventually got back to Dijon all of the stores would be closed.

Mom loves this one but this us her and I, and I think
I'm laughing at Dad who wouldn't stop taking
photos of us. This is his of course.

Back in Dijon we dropped off our purchases and then after a small break headed to Place Wilson where I introduced my host parents to my Mom and Dad. M et Mme de Regloix were very gracious and offered us an apertif (Creme de Cassis and a cremant) as well as a bit of food to snack on. We had a mix of conversation in French and English with me translating when either side did not understand. It turned out from a slideshow I had shown the de Regloix that they thought we had moved houses at one time as the different views of my house made it seem as if the houses were two different kinds. In talking about the differences between the US and France, property rights came out and I was forced to explain that in the US - or at least in New Hampshire - the individual has more power than the state. Mme quickly responded that the opposite was true in France. Mom later said that she was very glad dad hadn't stated the New Hampshire state motto of "Live Free or Die" and therefore forced me to translate it!

At the train station again, via Dad.

We were luckily able to stop the conversation in order to get food (for a little bit it looked like we wouldn't get away in time to eat) and said goodbye to the de Regloixs. M was very insistant on me coming back the next year and I could only answer "we'll see" because my return to France is a certainty but an unknown and definitely not within the next year. For dinner I had hoped to eat Moroccan but it was Pentecost Monday and therefore most things were closed. As a result we went back to Place d'Emile Zola but instead of eating at the same restaurant as the night before, we had pizza. Afterwards I walked my parents to a point where they could get back to the hotel on their own and then we went our separate ways for the final night in Dijon.

Lastly while we poked fun at Dad for video-taping us walking through the streets of Dijon, he had the right idea and here's his capture of a beautiful city: thank you dad.