Very cloudy and rainy yesterday so not many photos taken at all, although we did venture forth around the region. We were around Chambery and Aix les Bains.
People watching
One thing I do enjoy doing when eating out is people watching.
Each morning here, there has been another couple, French, probably in their thirties, whom we have particularly noticed. This is because, while he takes himself off to a table of his choice, she descends on the self-service area, like a one-woman herd of locusts, helping herself to copious amounts of anything and everything on offer, piling oranges into the juicer and then proceeding to fry eggs and bacon on the grill plate. Her preparations are punctuated by questions to her husband, presumably about how he likes his eggs and would he like two or three kilos of bacon. Eventually, she sits down and the next several minutes are punctuated by the two of them leaping up for second helpings. This morning's meal was disturbed by the sound of her stirring her yogurt. How does one make this sound like the revving up of an automatic drill?
Breakfast finished, she slung a large bag over her shoulder and, on her way out, stopped briefly to sweep something into the bag before leaving the room with a sweet 'Bonjour' to the receptionist as she passed. He, meanwhile, contented himself with grabbing something to stuff into his pockets as he left a few seconds later.
And to add insult to injury, they are both as thin as rakes!
Each morning here, there has been another couple, French, probably in their thirties, whom we have particularly noticed. This is because, while he takes himself off to a table of his choice, she descends on the self-service area, like a one-woman herd of locusts, helping herself to copious amounts of anything and everything on offer, piling oranges into the juicer and then proceeding to fry eggs and bacon on the grill plate. Her preparations are punctuated by questions to her husband, presumably about how he likes his eggs and would he like two or three kilos of bacon. Eventually, she sits down and the next several minutes are punctuated by the two of them leaping up for second helpings. This morning's meal was disturbed by the sound of her stirring her yogurt. How does one make this sound like the revving up of an automatic drill?
Breakfast finished, she slung a large bag over her shoulder and, on her way out, stopped briefly to sweep something into the bag before leaving the room with a sweet 'Bonjour' to the receptionist as she passed. He, meanwhile, contented himself with grabbing something to stuff into his pockets as he left a few seconds later.
And to add insult to injury, they are both as thin as rakes!
And the weather....?
We did the 400 hours from Florence back to Grenoble in a day, a day of extreme heat combined with the fact that Keith was not feeling too well. He seemed to have picked up a bug but fortunately, it only lasted 24 hours. However, yesterday and today we have made the decision not to go too far afield as we are staying here till tomorrow morning.
The problem now is... the weather!!! We have travelled a total of 2000 miles to get away from the rain and now, after the heat of Florence, it's wet and somewhat windy!
We did have a run round the mountains yesterday and took advantage of the glimmers of sun which burst through from time to time and the sight of the Alps swathed in cloud was atmospheric to say the least. These photos should give you some idea.
Jenny's guide to Italy
Tongue in cheek, no meant to give offence to any Italians and admittedly generalisations:
1. Italians are not nearly as polite as the French. Your friendly 'Buon giorno' is, sadly, just as likely to attract a blank stare as to initiate a response.
2. Every Italian is convinced that the road belongs to him/her and will not hesitate to hoot at anyone they think is infringing that right.
3. Italian coffee is lovely.
4. Italians talk faster, louder and more excitedly than any one else.
5. It is amazingly difficult to find shade in Italy in the heat of the day.
6. Keith was determined to kill the next Italian driver who hooted at him for nothing.
7. I managed to persuade him that time spent languishing in an Italian jail would not be worth it.
1. Italians are not nearly as polite as the French. Your friendly 'Buon giorno' is, sadly, just as likely to attract a blank stare as to initiate a response.
2. Every Italian is convinced that the road belongs to him/her and will not hesitate to hoot at anyone they think is infringing that right.
3. Italian coffee is lovely.
4. Italians talk faster, louder and more excitedly than any one else.
5. It is amazingly difficult to find shade in Italy in the heat of the day.
6. Keith was determined to kill the next Italian driver who hooted at him for nothing.
7. I managed to persuade him that time spent languishing in an Italian jail would not be worth it.
Firenze
Florence, the historic Florence, is lovely and we enjoyed looking around. We also had a drive round the surrounding areas. Here are a few photos.
Back in Grenoble
We left Grenoble last Thursday for the Cote D'Azur - just a quick look at it, you understand, on our way to Italy. We were going to stay a little way from the coast, but then decided to press on and ended up in Cannes. The hotel we finally arrived at was overpriced, had no facilities for breakfast or a restaurant (unlike the others in the same chain) and we were also informed quite gleefully by the 'manager' that there was also no air conditioning. By this time, I felt we had been travelling long enough and we could probably manage for one night, and we did.
On Friday, we took Italy by storm and arrived mid-afternoon at our hotel in Florence, pre-booked (prenotare) for three nights, to be confronted by a hatchet-faced manager who looked as though to smile would crack his face. So my best, prepared-in-advance- Italian was wasted on him! Then he and a female colleague spent several minutes in a furious argument in front of me which I think was about which rooms were / were not ready and why. He was replaced the following morning by a younger man who was even more abrupt and, not to put too fine a point on it, just plain rude. I found myself wondering why one would contemplate a career in hospitality when one quite obviously hates all one's fellow men, but my Italian wasn't up to expressing the thought and their English wouldn't have coped either.
And then we experienced Italians behind the wheels of their cars!
Over that I will draw a veil except to say that if the Italians' cars were not equipped with horns, they would suffer severe withdrawal symptoms!
On Friday, we took Italy by storm and arrived mid-afternoon at our hotel in Florence, pre-booked (prenotare) for three nights, to be confronted by a hatchet-faced manager who looked as though to smile would crack his face. So my best, prepared-in-advance- Italian was wasted on him! Then he and a female colleague spent several minutes in a furious argument in front of me which I think was about which rooms were / were not ready and why. He was replaced the following morning by a younger man who was even more abrupt and, not to put too fine a point on it, just plain rude. I found myself wondering why one would contemplate a career in hospitality when one quite obviously hates all one's fellow men, but my Italian wasn't up to expressing the thought and their English wouldn't have coped either.
And then we experienced Italians behind the wheels of their cars!
Over that I will draw a veil except to say that if the Italians' cars were not equipped with horns, they would suffer severe withdrawal symptoms!
Les vacances!
Down to Ashford on Sunday, straight after my last session of the counselling diploma, to stay overnight before wending our way to Dover and the ferry. As we arrived early, we were changed to an earlier crossing and so, by evening yesterday, we had arrived, via Reims, at Troyes, where we stayed overnight.
Today we set off bright and early and arrived here in Grenoble. After all the flat landscapes of northern France, it was a pleasant change to see the Alpes looming before us. We had a toilet stop at one of the delightful picnic areas that the French have at intervals along the motorways and there my delight was temporarily subdued. The toilet black was a clean, unusual-looking, new building, so imagine my surprise and disappointment when I went in, to discover that the toilets themselves were the traditional hole-in-the-floor type which I remember so well from my stays in the sixties. Regular readers of this blog will possibly recall that I do, at times, have what could be described as a bit of an obsession with toilets. especially Welsh ones, or the lack of them. However, although these were holes in the floor, they were modern holes in the floor with sensors. As soon as you put your feet on the foot-resting bits, water gushes from the walls, thereby ensuring that, however careful you might be, you end up with wet feet.
We're staying here for two days, before pressing on towards Italy, so you may soon get more photos of the Alpes in a little more detail, depending on my access to wifi. Mind you, I think it is quite impressive that I was able to organise this internet stint in French with little difficulty...n'est ce pas?
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