Or, how do you say that in French? Our fourth morning in Strasbourg and I am happy to say that I woke up in the morning and not afternoon. Somewhat of a slow day today, doing laundry, writing on the blog, waiting to pick up Joe (father in law) and Joe (brother in law) Havlick. They are flying Icelandic Air from JFK to Frankfurt Germany with a quick stop in Keflavik to check on the melting glaciers. They are taking (we hope) the same airline bus from Frankfurt to Strasbourg that Ginny and I took. A quick three hour jaunt (see how I am getting my french words into the conversation).
I think I realize why my Norwegian and Spanish is helping me to communicate here in France. I approach someone and try to ask a question using my french studies (all two months worth) and unintentionally, I lapse into Norwegian with a bit of Spanish for good luck. The people I am talking to think that it is just butchered french so they appreciate my efforts and they help me out. I haven't found a single person in Strasbourg that doesn't try to speak English. From two grandmothers walking their dogs to the guy in the cell phone store they all take great joy or pride in helping me and then giving me a little french lesson to boot. By the time we are finished here, I should be able to speak English and maybe a little french.
Yesterday we took a little boat tour around the city of Strasbourg. It was very nice although Ginny and I both had to fight off falling asleep due to the gentle rocking of the boat and the mellifluous tones of the pre-recorded tour guide in the headsets. Judging from the prices, ice cream must be very rare in Europe. About $7 for three small (I really mean melon ball size) scoops of ice cream. It is enough to make you scream but I don't know how to say this is outrageous in French.
We saw the main cathedral in Strasbourg yesterday but didn't take a long tour. You can walk to the top in one of the towers but again, didn't have the time and didn't know the number for a counselor to get me over my fear of cramped spaces and Ginny's fear of heights (sort of amazing that we get into airplanes at all). The reason my fear of cramped spaces is a problem is that the stairway up to the top is one of those stone spiral staircases like you see in the movies when they are taking someone down to the dungeon. Very short and very narrow and I don't know how many stone stairways you've been in but the ones I've been in don't tend to have any give or flexibility. Now I know why the hunchback of notre dame was hunched over, it was the only way he could get up the stairs. Well I'm going to give it a try never the less. Look for the headline "American tourist in France gets stuck in stairwell 300 feet up in a cathedral". By for now, I'll be in touch (or touche as the french might say).
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