Bordeaux, Part I: Finest Food in Finest Town (?)

follow the wet cobblestones

In this, only our second francophone foray from Poitiers, we headed south to Bordeaux and Toulouse. Since both are fairly large and populous, and because we had never visited either place before, we did get guides (in French) for the two cities.

Really, a guidebook is just a starting point, something that you can use for the first day or so (maybe even just the first 4-6 hours). We feel the need to stress this point. The guidebook should be a handhold to use only until you get your hands on some local publications that will give you the lowdown on the currently hot restaurants, music venus, movies, art exhibits, and which may even warn you of an upcoming manif (slang for manifestation nf. 1. a protest, sometimes in conjunction with a strike or grève; 2. the national sport of France; 3. something you should know about before traveling).

Finding local reviews of what's going on is probably the most underrated travel-related activity. Guidebooks are ok for finding all the 1000+ year-old churches, but they aren't going to know about the organic Thai restaurant that just opened (or the little old theatre that just shut down). And if the locals aren't that into spicy organic food (a good bet around here), it may well be closed by the time the next edition of Lonely Planet comes out. This means that you, the traveler, have a responsibility to venture outside the safe confines of the published guidebook, which you should consider out-of-date and out-of-touch even before you spotted it on the bookshelf.

There is a reason the local publications review art, restaurants, movies, and fashion--locals want to know about this stuff too! In larger cities, local publications (for instance, Pariscope in Paris, The Reader in Chicago, Spirit in Bordeaux, or Let's Motiv if you're in Toulouse) give those out-of-the-way, non-corporate, and newly-opened, but still solid establishments a fighting chance against the overpriced robo-bistrots in the tourist district.

Enough of our hipster politics. 

So anyway, after our apartment almost burned down, we hopped on the TGV in Poitiers and were in Bordeaux in two hours, a short tram ride later, we were at our hotel. We'll never get over the ease of transferring from one form of transport to another here (TGV to bus/metro, airplane to TGV/bus/metro).  You know that feeling you get when you have to walk the five blocks from Chicago's Union Station to the nearest El stop dragging two suitcases in the snow? Well, not here!

In the middle of a vast network of streets for pedestrians and bikes only, we were surrounded by restaurants and boutiques. We found a great breakfast/lunch spot, Karl Restaurant, around the corner from our hotel.  

Karl--"Finest food in finest town"

Located in the Place du Parlement, the interior is very airy and the sun shines in the windows in the afternoon (well, theoretically.  If the sun ever shines in Bordeaux). 

It was also a fun people-watching venue.  For instance, we watched this mother (picture to the left) tying her baby to a chair with her designer scarf.  It's hard to imagine a mother doing this in the US.  It might even be illegal.   It was very chic, but it didn't last long (baby was relocated to dad's arms, scarf returned to mother's shoulders).

If you make it to Karl's, don't forget to visit Cousin et Compagnie, the caviste across the street (their motto is: The importance of a wine shop? That it stays open! --W.C. Fields), where we got this excellent and very wine/cheese/bread-appropriate wine...

Other good food finds were Bar-Cave de la Monnaie (classic-cosy french) and Occitane Cafe on the Place du Palais, classic french, but cheap, and more lunch-appropriate.

While in Bordeaux, don't forget to get a glass of Lillet in between meals, while shopping, or in between art exhibits.

Recent Story in Local Paper May Interest ARAD Readers

The Meter Explodes: Smoke Fills the Boutique!

Just yesterday, a washing machine almost put the Patrice Bréal boutique on a diet. During the height of the post-Christmas sales season, the clothing shop in Poitiers was hit by a small catastrophe.

It was 2:50pm when the fire department was alerted. The fire started in the closet situated at the back of the store. A few seconds later, the electric meter exploded, spreading fire and panic throughout the shop.

As the smoke spread, the two sales assistants were forced to evacuate the store. The apartments above the shop, as well as neighboring stores, were also evacuated. The firemen, after putting out the fire, checked the nearby apartments for smoke damage and carbon monoxide levels. Using a thermal camera, they were able to ensure that no hot spots remained. A few hours later, the mayor stopped by the scene.

translated from La Nouvelle Republique page 4 article, published Samedi 17, Janvier 2009

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Okay, now here's how it happened from our perspective.

Jefe had gone out for a long bike ride. Rebecca was a home, writing. She heard the doorbell ring, but since this happens by accident every once in a while (drunk people, kids, confused delivery men), she didn't take it very seriously. A few minutes later, the bell rang again, more insistently. She opened the French windows to look down to the street, to see who was bothering her. No delivery man, no drunks, no kids. But something did seem amiss... Usually, when we look out our window, we feel a bit like voyeurs. People walk past on the pedestrian street below, not noticing us and not looking up. This time, people were looking up.

Rebecca mused over this as she shut the windows and sat down again at the computer. A moment later, the electricity in the apartment went out all at once. She slipped on her shoes, pushed open the door to the stairwell, and was greeted with a lot of smoke and the smell of burning plastic, which grew thicker as she ran down the stairs. At the base of the stairs it was very hot, and she looked down to see the door of the utility closet glowing orange. When she made it out of the ground level door and into the street, women in the adjacent shoe store were vigorously motioning to her. She walked up to them, confused, and they turned her around and pointed to the fire.

She spent a nervous hour waiting for the fire department to arrive, put out the fire, and rid the apartment building of smoke. Thankfully, there was no permanent damage to the apartment or its residents (aside from a little smoke damage to the level below us)!

In the mean time, don't worry about us.  We're on vacation.

La paperasse = (n) paperwork (pejoratif)

In a whirlwind of activity, we believe we have secured a beautiful apartment on a quiet pedestrian street... It was a magnificent team effort with the apartment viewing, deposit depositing, renters insurance purchasing, and electricity turn-on-ing all taking place within a few hours. Luckily, most of the relevant offices are within a few blocks of each other on a street adjacent to our hotel. To gain the courage to take on the rental agency, we stopped in a bistrot for a very french two hour lunch. After dining on scallops with bacon (Rebecca) and veal head stew (Jeff) and a bottle of wine, we were ready for the agency.

At the rental agency, Bruno and the secretary were very helpful and patient with us while we made sure we had all the necessary bank numbers and identity documents. Afterwards, we trotted down the street to the insurance agent. After some dissertation-related small talk between the agent and Rebecca, we got their spiel about everything that would and would not be covered. Then "home" to the hotel to call the electric company to schedule a start date. There were a few false starts with the automated phone system, but we eventually got through to an operator. She seemed to have a good humor about the situation and didn't mind repeating herself frequently.

If I understood everything correctly, and I probably didn't, we will be moving in on Friday, but won't have electricity until Monday. Hopefully, a few extra blankets will be enough to stave off the night cold.

As a prelude to all this copying, signing and stamping, Rebecca taught her first two classes today. She got on the bus at 7 a.m, before sunrise, to teach two consecutive classes of two hours each (no breaks!). The students in the first class were a little bleary-eyed (a word they learned this morning), but the second group demonstrated their "impetus for social change" (their new idiom of the day) by conceding that French hipsters require a kick in the pants just like their American counterparts. The lesson built off of a recent Adbusters article "Hipsters: The Dead End of Western Civilization." 

As her students are the most advanced English-speakers at the school, she wanted to make sure not to underestimate their intelligence, and the result was satisfactory for all.  Even though the article was full of bizarre and nuanced American slang, there was plenty of time for the students to ask for Rebecca's help to gloss (and sometime physically act out) the terms.  Try translating phrases such as: "hunched over," "leaf through,""go for a stroll," and "Pabst Blue Ribbon" without getting fairly creative, and she'd be impressed.  In the end, teaching for two hours per class was a new experience for Rebecca. She doesn't have to teach again until next Wednesday, enough time for her vocal chords to recover and enough time to plan the eight hours(!) of lessons for next week.

Up next: finding used furniture, a co-signer, kitchenware, un clic-clac (a fold out sofa--for visitors!), and all the necessary knick-knacks for a cosy French abode.  

A quick shout out to Teresa of the CWS.  Rebecca says: You've made things so much easier than they could have been!  Thanks Teresa!!

We're Here...

It has taken a few days to beat the jet lag into submission. In between midday naps and sleepless  nights, we have been scoping out the local restaurant scene, looking for an apartment and trying to decode various regulations.

Rebecca will start teaching on Wednesday. While she meets all of her colleagues and signs paperwork so she can get paid, Jefe will be looking at apartments and getting the cellphones operational. Sorting through all the fees and exceptions associated with renting an apartment is pretty daunting. It takes both of us listening to one leasing agent to try and catch even about 50% of what is being said. We are hoping to have an apartment by the end of the week, but we'll see what comes.

The first night here (Saturday) was the final day of a free local arts festival. There was four days of music, theater, and artwork in the streets of the center of Poitiers. We were pretty sapped from the three planes and the train, so we mostly listened to the music wafting in our hotel window.

The view out of our hotel window onto the Place de l'Hotel de Ville with a music tent and temporary beer tent, which they didn't finish taking down until two days later...

We would like to thank everyone who helped us along the way and made it possible for us to move here, especially:

Carla & Griff for the lodging and patience, Luke for that phone call, William Savage for the Baltimore crab dinner, Mr. Jim & Sherri for their encouragement, Josh for even reading our blog, Kristi for the empathy, Kyle Wehman for the...beach, Eric Day and Stacy for the guest room, Paul Prior for the "sabbatical", and the ESIP for claiming that Rebecca's paychecks should nonetheless start on the first of September.

L'appartement

We are currently in negotiations to sublet (for the month of September, and perhaps to lease afterward) the apartment of the maitre de langue whose post I will be assuming in Poitiers.  Here are pictures of her lovely apartment.  

You'll have to imagine it stripped of furniture and other habiliments.  

Okay, now picture it covered with bike parts and post-it notes.  

Yes, that's it.  

That's our apartment.