nukesafe

We just got back from a really nice 19 day trip to Scotland and France and, because much of the trip’s success was because of Fodorite advice, I thought I would file a brief trip report. It will be much briefer than my first trip report about last year’s Croatia trip – that one got out of hand.

The main purpose of the trip was to get our travelling companion, Nancy’s, husband, Dick, who had never been out of the States, to Europe. He said he would go if he could go to a Scotch distillery. We, my wife Tammy and I, agreed so long as we could spend some time in France.

I booked a British Air, open-jaw, non-stop, flight from Seattle to Heathrow, with a connection to Edinburgh for Tammy and me. Return flight was out of Charles de Gaulle to LHR, and then direct back to Seattle. Fare was $856. We closed the gap in the open-jaw from Edinburgh to Paris with a flight on British Midland, as there did not appear to be any cheapo airlines operating directly to CDG out of EDI, unless one wanted to make connections through Shannon, or fly into Beauvais Airport far outside of Paris. The other couple wanted to use up a bunch of frequent flier miles, so they had to settle for a flight on Alaska from Seattle to Phoenix, a long delay in Phoenix, then to LHR via British Air, and a BMI flight into EDI. But, “Hey, it was free”. They left SEA about six hours before us, and were scheduled to arrive forty minutes after us in Edinurgh.

Our flight took off around 6:00 pm and, having been warned about the lousy chow on BA, I stocked up on emergency rations in my carry on. No need, as the food turned out to be really quite superior, as coach food goes. The snack before arrival was a bit yucky, small cheese sandwich, mostly bread. Oh, well.

We got to EDI, picked up our bags and waited for our friends to arrive. They didn’t. Their flight arrived, baggage spilled off the carousel, but they didn’t appear. Now a bit worried, I went to the airline information desk to see if they had been on the flight. He could not give me that information, he said. He added, with a wink, that I might be advised to wait for a bit, however. We did so, but after the last flight from LHR had arrived for the day we gave up, caught the bus to Waverly Station and a cab to our B&B.

Luckily I had bought two of the MOBAL phones you inhabitants of Fodorland had recommended, and given one of them to Dick. I activated mine, and started calling the number of the other phone from our room. After a couple of hours the phone was answered. Dick & Nancy were sitting in the lounge of the Balmoral Hotel just across from Waverly station having a much needed drink. We hopped the #33 bus and joined them to hear their sad story. Their bags had not arrived in Heathrow. While they tried to locate them, their flight to EDI left. The only way they could get to EDI that day was to take a flight to Manchester or someplace and then another to Edinburgh.

Alaska Airlines had sent their bags to Los Angeles. Dick got his the next day, but Nancy’s was two days in getting there. Sigh-- Well, at least we could start sampling the Scotch whisky.

In spite of the shortage of wardrobe, we had a wonderful time in Edinburgh for three days. Did all of the usual things, The Castle, Princes Street, Bus Tour, Royal Mile, Holyrood Palace, The Britannia, People’s Museum, galleries, art museums, etc., etc.

Our B&B, Kenvie Guest House, was quiet, clean, and comfortable, as well as close to frequent bus lines that got us to the city center within ten minutes or so. The owner was friendly and helpful and the breakfast good. Cost was £30 per person.

We found that our decision not to rent a car while in Edinburgh was a good one. When we left Edinburgh, we rented from the one rental agency Nancy found who would rent to folks over 70 (up to 75). I was the only one of our party that was over 70 but none of the others had driven on the left, and since I had lived in England years ago they wanted me to start them off. We took a cab to the car rental firm near the airport and away we went to Sterling. It was a lovely sunny day and we were truly impressed by that historic castle.

We stayed that night in Ft. Henry and started touring distilleries the next morning. We toured, sampled, toured, sampled, and sampled (did I mention the sampling?) – all of us slipping most of the samples to Dick, since this was his part of the trip. The rest of that week is a bit hazy, as the ladies, who hate Scotch, slipped Dick and I most of their drams. . I clearly remember staying in Dufftown, though. I exaggerate, of course, to make a better story, and I know this sounds like a drunken binge, but in actuality no one overindulged and no one ever drove that had even one drink.

Scotland was simply lovely. The heather was out on the hills, and we had spectacular weather with only the briefest of showers. Nothing stands out in the food department as we ate pub food mostly. I did get into the shops to get my favorite Scottish things – Scotch Eggs, and Pork Pies for picnics and snacks. Surefire artery cloggers, but delicious, IMO.

I ran into the DCC scam in Dufftown. I paid the bill at our B&B with a Master Card and saw the total in USD on the bill. I told the owner that I would not accept that as it was not to my advantage. She seemed truly surprised and puzzled, saying it was a new machine and she had no idea. I stood right beside her as we voided the charge, she handed me the void slip and I watched as she reentered the charge. I pointed out the screen where I was to be given a choice. She entered “NO”, and the proper charge went through. Makes me believe that the company selling this scam also scams their customers by not clearly explaining about the “CHOICE” part.

At the end of the week we returned to Edinburgh to stay for a night at the Craigmoss Guest house B&B, as the Kenvie was booked for that night. We felt the Craigmoss was a ripoff at £40 per person; The highest price we paid during the Scotland portion of our trip: really not worth the price as it was shabby, inconvenient to public transport, and the reception not very friendly.

The next morning we were off to the airport by cab to fly British Midland to Paris, with a long layover at Heathrow. We needed to go to CDG, as I had picked up Prem tickets on the TGV out of the station in Charles de Gaulle. Since there is only one evening TGV to Dijon, we got into the Gare at around 9:30 on a rainy evening and came out of the station to see the sign for our hotel shining just a block away.

I’ll continue this report on Dijon pastries, Canal boat on the Saone, Segways in Paris, etc., as soon as I can.

ira

Hi Nuke,

A good start.

Looking forward to more.

Byrd

Sounds like a great trip.

Waiting for the Paris report, especially the Segways...

Byrd

janis

great report so far!

One thing tho' "We stayed that night in Ft. Henry . ."

Ft William I can understand, or Ft Augustus or maybe even Ft George -- but where is Ft Henry???

Patrick

nukesafe, did you by any chance keep a record of how many dollars they were charging you on that DCC scam? It would be interesting to see how if varied from the dollars you were actually billed on your credit card after it was changed to pounds.

nukesafe

Janis,

Of course, it was Ft. William. I can try to blame it on the whisky, but I know it is just "what's his name's?" disease.

We stayed at a very nice place in Ft. William named the Lime Tree Studio, run by an artist. Nice clean rooms with modern bathrooms,fluffy towels, and good breakfast. At £30/ person it was value for money. The owner, who was only too willing to show us his work, was able to chat with my wife, Tammy, about his work. Tammy is a glass artist, and she discussed his glass work as well as his paintings.

Patrick,

I agree, comparing the differences in charges would be instructive. I still have not been able to locate the void slip in the pile of junk paper I cleaned out of the bottom of my luggage. If I find it I will do the numbers and post them.

Craigellachie

Nukesafe,
(Intrigued by the name, by the way)
Loved your report so far.
I fully agree with your advice about not hiring a car in Edinburgh. I can think of lots of words to describe driving in the centre of Edinburgh but "holiday" and "relaxing" don't feature.
Two minor quibbles. The town is Stirling, not Sterling (though I'm told that the term Sterling for UK currency dates back to the town's days as a major authentication centre for silver, the change from Stirling to Sterling being a typo). And no-one here talks about "scotch". It's whisky, or malt if you prefer. I like to think it's because of an inbuilt certainty in the scots psyche that "whisky" automatically means a Scottish product as no-one else makes anything worthy of the name. Before I get lynched by our celtic cousins from across the Irish Sea, remember that the Irish don't make whisky - they make whiskey.
Can you spill the beans about where in Dufftown they tried to charge you in US Dollars? It might be a genuine mistake but if other fodorites also get the "new machine" excuse it might be one for us back home to pass on to the relevant authorities.

nukesafe

Craigellachie:

I'll take my lumps for the misspelling of Stirling, and the unforgivable use of the term Scotch instead of the sacred word Whisky. Whatever you call it, it is a lovely stuff!

The place of the DCC in Dufftown was the Gowanbrae B&B.

The name Nukesafe comes from my profession before I retired. I worked in nuclear safety, health physics, etc. Tried to keep us from blowing all the rest of you up - accidentally.

So far, so good.

cocofromdijon

Hi Dick! I can't wait to read the next episode (though the 1st one was really interesting!) hurry up! ;-)
corinne

SuzieC

Yep...I am enjoying everyone's trips. I look forward to your thoughts about the Soane.

nukesafe

Dijon:

We crossed the forecourt of the Gare in Dijon to the sign of the Hotel Campanile Centre in a light rain: me thinking, “Oh great, a fine introduction to France for our friends”. The hotel was comfortable, with immaculate bathrooms, and both faced the inner courtyard which, while not having a view, took care of my worry they might be noisy, the hotel being on a busy street. The rooms were a bargain at €69. There was a note from Corinne at the desk for me that she had come by to leave earlier in the day. She also took the trouble to call later to confirm our meeting the next morning at 9:30 in the lobby.

Not wanting to eat in the hotel café, we walked across the street to a lively place named Au Bureau. It was a big kitschy room, decorated with lots of old fashioned pictures and artifacts. Sort of a French pub scene, except you didn’t have to worry about bumping you head on low beams. We had drinks and a light snack in a very pleasant atmosphere before turning in.

In the morning, Saturday a beautiful day, we walked up the street to a café and just had coffee, as we knew we were meeting Coco later for a pastry lesson. For those of you who have not followed the thread on French pastries, Cocofromdijon, a regular on this Forum, had offered to meet us and give us an education in the art of French Pastry. She was going to bring along an American honeymooning couple who were staying in her rental flat that week. She had said she would have to get her two boys off to school and would probably ride her motorcycle down to the station, so could not arrive until 9:30. I expected to be greeted by a harried and windblown housewife who had just bundled her kids off to their every-other-Saturday school session. Instead, a perfectly coiffed an stylish woman walked into the lobby, dressed in the very latest in Parisian fashion. A brown pantsuit that must have been tailored for her.

Before Coco (Corinne) arrived, Nancy, who’s French is much better than mine, and I walked over to the bus station (right next to the Gare) and bought tickets to little town in which we were to pick up the boat. I knew the tickets to Pontailler-sur-Saone, about 40 km away, would be something like €5.50 each, so I was surprised when the ticket agent asked me for €4. From what I was able to gather, it was a “special” day, and all tickets were €1 each – train, bus, destination in Burgundy, it didn’t matter.

Corinne arrived in our hotel lobby right on time. She said her husband had gotten the kids off to school and, since the roads were still a bit wet, decided to drive – which might help explain how perfectly she was turned out. We all introduced ourselves, and were soon joined by the newlyweds, Rachael and Justin. Coco led us up toward the Place Darcy to a small but wonderful pastry shop where, with the help of the owner, explained what each of the works of art in the cases were, of what they were made, and how. We each chose a pastry or two apiece, paid for them separately and, clutching our little bags, were led to a second, even more wonderful patisserie, where we chose more delights.

Coco had called the owner of a very nice bistro the night before and had told him about educating Americans in the art of French overindulgence, and asked if we could bring our bakery goods into his place, monopolize a big table for the seven of us, and only order coffee while we scattered crumbs all over his establishment. “Of course”, was the reply.

We went in, met the proprietor, and proceeded to demand coffee, knives, forks, napkins. We each cut our pastries into small enough pieces for all to sample, and dove in. I cannot recall what each thing was, but there was a great variety, as almost nobody had bought the same thing. The favorite among all seemed to be a chocolate, whipped cream, and ambrosia concoction called a “Jesuit”. Sooo good! When we asked for the bill, we found that Corinne had picked it up, naughty girl!

Coco then led us, waddling, out into the street and into the midst of a wonderful street market. It was, we were told, a once a year festival on the weekend of the “Days of Patrimony”, during which many of the public buildings in Burgundy, not usually accessible, are open to the public. All pubic transport is one Euro, and people celebrate in the street. The market filled the streets for many blocks, and our lovely host led us not only past the many, many booths, but through the historic sights of the city, explaining them all in very fluent English.

We had to break off before we had seen a fraction of the delights Dijon has to offer, as we had to catch a 12:15 bus. Coco came with us to the bus station just to make sure we got on the correct bus, and we said our goodbyes there. We simply cannot say enough good things about this gracious, funny, sophisticated and generous woman. Her hospitality and friendliness seems to know no bounds. She has our gratitude and friendship forever; this excellent example of French openness.

She is, as we say in the States, “A real class act!” If you ever visit Dijon -- and you should -- she can be reached through her web site: http://myhomeindijon.com/

We took a very pleasant bus ride to our destination through rolling Burgundian farm country for a little over an hour. We got off in the square of the tiny town and trundled our bags down to the Port de Plaisance, where we did some paperwork, left our bags, and walked to a supermarket, where we bought essentials for the boat – read that “Wine”.

This is getting longish. I’ll talk about the Canal boat trip later.

cocofromdijon

Oh my god Dick! I don't know where to hide now! you should see me when I get up after a short night (because I have been reading fodors messages late for ex..)
You remember better how I was dressed than the cakes you ate, you naughty! there were actually some éclairs, religieuses, apple and mirabelles tartes, pains aux raisins, sablé aux amandes, and even big gougères. The café we stayed in was "la Concorde" place Darcy ~o), one of the oldest "stylish" cafés-brasseries in Dijon. We had a great but too short time!
I wonder if I could add a page of our meeting on the website, maybe you should send me some of your pictures by email to see what I can do.

Now what's next on the Saône?
coco

Isadore204

nukesafe:
I stayed at Corinne's apartment the week before you arrived in Dijon. I fully agree, she is a lovely woman with great enthusiasum for her city. She helped make my stay there a lot of fun. I then went off to a Wayfarers Walk in Burgundy. Corinne helped get me to the group's meeting point. I was very grateful for her assistance and I now feel that we are friends. She is just a delightful person to know. I feel lucky to have found her in Dijon!

A brief note on Scotland...I was there (Glasgow) last year so I understand about having a dram or two.

I'm eager to read about the canal portion of your trip as I've done that as well, but in Ireland.

A tout a l'heure!

nukesafe

Coco,

You call me naughty for remembering more about you than I did about the French pastries you helped us find and sample. I do have my priorities stright! If I were a Frenchman, you would not call me naughty if I paid more attention to a lovely Frenchwoman than to baked goods.

Tammy agrees. Shortly after we met you In Dijon, her comment to me was, "What a charming woman!"

Tammy did take some pictures in Dijon, and I will be sending them to you soon, so you can use them as you wish. Now, you are to look closely at the photos, and you will see that you are more memorable than a mirabelle.

Jocelyn_P

Enjoying your report, nukesafe. I'm looking forward to hearing about your experience with the Segways!

I trust that when you retired you left us all in good hands.

cocofromdijon

Isadore how nice to come and join us! welcome!><
A week later and you could have met Dick as well... that is too bad! but it would mean you should have slept in the flat with our honeymooners!
They must be back home now...
Rachael, if you read me, we are waiting for your trip report(Dijon, Provence and Paris).
You all went to France when the weather was fine, now it is getting cold and wet(at least until thursday)but the long and nice days are over! (luckily we still have museums, churches, art exhibitions and restaurants ;-))
Have a great day!
coco

nukesafe

Canal boat on the Saone:

The canal boat hire people let us put our groceries and bags aboard the boat before the “official: check in time of 16:00, and so when they gave us our orientation/training (and collected our deposits, etc.,) we were ready to go. The wind had begun to really blow after the rain of the night before, however, and we decided to stay tied up in the marina for the night. We walked to a nearby restaurant for a light dinner of a truly delicious salad, and turned in early.

We had talked to the marina staff, and the people on other boats about the best routes to take and places to moor. I had bought maps and done research on line, and wanted to head downstream to Dole and beyond, but was persuaded that going upstream was a better option. Narrower, more scenic river, more interesting little towns to visit, good restaurants and, most important, a Laundromat in the next town upstream - Gray. Tammy and I were pretty well caught up on our laundry, as we wash stuff every evening, but our companions were running out of things to wear. The final decision was made by my jeans which, after a week of wear could almost stand by themselves.

Our plan was that I, an early riser, would go out each morning for baguettes and croissants, so we could have coffee and pastry onboard. A flaky croissant still warm from the boulangerie, with butter and apricot jam, and a cup of strong coffee au lait is one of my definitions of paradise. As we would buy cold cuts, pate, cheese, and vegetables the night before, we could have the baguettes sandwiches for lunch while underway. I planned to do absolutely no cooking aboard, and go to a different French country restaurant each evening.

We left around 10:00 on Sunday morning, and five hours later tied up in Gray, after a rather hairy battle against a really gusty and cold headwind. Our boat, a Tarpon 37, was like most canal boats slab sided and with shallow draft, which made for difficult steering into locks in strong winds. Luckily, I had insisted on getting a boat with a bow-thruster which gave us a lot more control. I had also rented a big boat with two separate cabins each with separate head/shower compartments. I really wanted Dick and Nancy to have a good experience.

We tied up at the quai in Gray, and took a tour through the medieval town. Being Sunday, almost everything was closed. On the way, we stopped into one of the few open cafes to have a beer and ask directions to the laverie automatique. Tammy and I only had a drink as we were saving our appetite for dinner, but our friends had a crepe. The only two drinkers at the bar gave conflicting (drunken) opinions on whether the laundry was open and on whether there were any restaurants open in all of Gray. They did agree on the location of the laundry, though, so we went back to the boat, I put on my one good pair of pants, packed plastic bags with our linen, and crossed the bridge to the West bank where we found the self-service establishment open, but crowded. Eventually, a few machines opened up but, since there was only one functional dryer, we spent most of the afternoon watching our clothes circle round and round.

Tammy walked back across the bridge by the lock and got us books, so we spent our time guarding the dryer, and sitting on a park bench reading and watching the river slide by. To pass some of the time, I walked back over the bridge and checked out restaurants. Most were closed, either because it was Sunday, or because it was Patrimony Days. One, in the Hotel Bellevue (sp) had the restaurant door locked, but did not have a closed Sunday sign. I went into the hotel to ask, but there was nobody at the desk. I left to check out another nearby restaurant, but when I came back even the hotel door was locked and the lobby dark. I noted that the Restaurant Panoramique was open from 19:15, and vowed to return.

By the time the laundry was finally (almost) dry, it was 18:30 by the time we got back to the boat. Dick and Nancy decided they did not feel like dinner out and elected to stay on the boat. I took my cell phone and Tammy and I were waiting, famished, by the door of the restaurant when it, indeed, opened at 7:15. I called Dick on the boat and told him and urged them to join us.

I went into all this detail because the restaurant served us one of the best meals either of us has ever eaten! The decor was elegant; fresh flowers or original art ceramics on widely separated tables. The table setting was striking; a huge turquoise charger at each place setting. The service was attentive. The menu looked moderately priced, with a choice of an €18, €23, €28, or 36 €menu. We chose the €23 menu which started with an amusee bouche that was a chilled cucumber concoction, decorated with fresh herbs. That was followed by a salad that could have been the main dish, full of marinated sea food such as mussels, fresh shrimp, and unusual cone-shell snails. Tammy had lovely thick steak with Bearnaise sauce, while I had locally caught perch. The cheese course gave us a choice from a cart just stacked with delectable choices. I tried three; my favorite being a local Epoisses, all yellow and runny. We ordered deserts, but just before they came the waiter placed a small dish on the table that contained an even dozen small pastries and macaroons. We blinked, because this was obviously not the desert, but a little extra. Our deserts were sumptuous, Tammy with a large Creme Brulee, and mine kind of tarte served on a huge white rectangular dish, the tarte in a depression on one end, and the rest of the dish artistically decorated with swirled caramel. All followed by coffee. I would have loved a cognac, but had no more room. We also had a half liter of the house red, which was quite drinkable.

The grand total for this meal that showed up on my Visa when I got home was $62.64. Hell, we have spent that much in Pizza Hut.

If you are ever in Gray, France, We can heartily recommend the Restaurant Au Mastroquet in the Hotel Bellevue, 1 Avenue Carnot, just at the Eastern end of the bridge in Grey.

For the rest of the week we traveled up the lovely Saone River in almost perfect weather, stopping at a number of tiny villages. We would walk around, looking at the architecture and visiting the churches – usually the only things open. One town did not even have a store; f any kind. The person we asked, said that a truck would bring food at about 11:30. We turned the corner and there was the truck, actually two vans, one selling meat and the second with baked goods. I bought some salami from the one truck, mostly as I had stared so openly at his operation. We watched as they lumbered away down the street, honking their distinctive horns. Sort of like a Good Humor man.

Unfortunately for my plans to dazzle our friends with fabulous French cooking, we found almost no restaurants. Many were closed for the season, and the ones we found open were not very good. Often we would end up eating cold cuts and left over baguettes for dinner. We took our friends out to dinner in a recommended restaurant in the town of Scey-sur-Saone. We have always said that we have never had a bad meal in France, but this came close. It was edible, but uninspired and seemed made of frozen ingredients. Definitely second rate, almost embarrassingly so – and it cost more than the meal in Gray.

The final straw was when we came back down the river I was determined to eat in the restaurant in Gray one more time – only to find it closed on the Thursday night we were there.

I have made this last it too negative. Only the restaurants were a disappointment. The trip itself was lovely. Long stretches of tranquil waters through wonderful scenery with lots of wildlife. Charming villages to explore, miles of paved tow path to walk or bicycle. If one wants a different vacation that allows one to live in France and travel to a different place every day for less than the cost of a moderate hotel room, this could be for you. If Gastronomy is one of your goals, however, I would pick a river or canal that passes through some of the larger, and more interesting towns.

This seems to be stretching out, and is depressing me in the gastronomy department, so I will stop and finish the report on the Segway tour and Paris later.

nukesafe

Paris and Segway:

On the Saturday morning we cleaned the boat and did the paperwork, then took the cab we had arranged to the TGV station in Dijon. Sat down at the outdoor café and had a beer, watched the bags, and read the first Herald Tribune we had see in some time as our companions took off for a brief wander through Dijon. Coco had said we should call her to see if we could meet, but the uncertainty factor was too great.

Our train was to leave shortly after 12:00, and we began to get a bit anxious when our friends did not return. Anxiety turned to real concern as departure time came. We had Prem tickets, and really did not want to pay full fare on a later train. We though momentarily about leaving the bags with left luggage, and a note with the waiter, but finally decided to try to manage to get all the bags aboard by ourselves – and leave a note with the waiter to that effect. I had the note written, had caught the waiter’s eye, and all the bags gathered when Dick and Nancy came puffing up. They had gotten turned around and become lost. We caught the train by just a minute or two.

Got into Gare de Lyon about 2:00, and headed to the taxi rank. I wanted, however, to look at the Train Bleu Restaurant I had heard mentioned on Fodor’s so often, so we took a short detour. Dick didn’t want to see the place, so Tammy, Nancy, and I climbed the ornately decorated stairs to look. It is one of those places that make one’s jaw drop open. Incredible, lavish, opulent, come to mind. We gazed, awestruck like country bumpkins, for a few brief moments and then fled out the door.

With the help of Fodorites, I had the Metro, and Bus routes all printed out, but we wanted to get to our hotel, so we waited in the line for a bit before the starter put us into a cab big enough for us and the bags. We stayed at the Hotel Turenne, on Avenue Toureville in the 7th, just a few steps from the Ecole Militaire Metro stop, and just around the corner from the Rue Cler. I figured such an upscale neighborhood would be a gentle introduction to Paris for our newbie.

Hotel Turenne is a two star place, but the rooms were adequate and immaculately clean. Decent towels, and hair driers, plus double pane windows to keep the traffic noise down. There was some mixup in our reservations so there was only one twin-bed room available. They put us into a €102 triple, but gave us the twin rate of €84. Later, we had to change to a double room @ €77.

We had a brief lay down and then started walking. It was late afternoon, but the Rue Cler was jumping. I don’t give a damn if Rick Steves “ruined” it – I LOVE the place! If there were Americans clutching Rick’s book I never noticed them, with my eyes bugging out at all of the wonderful food and goodies on display. Later, we walked to a restaurant recommended on this Forum, Le Clos des Gormets on Avenue Rapp. It was adventuresome dining, with each dish showing some flair — but in the end none of us was really satisfied. Perhaps I am just cheap or spoiled by more homey French restaurants, but when one gets sneered at for trying to order a carafe of the house wine (they have none) and the cheapest bottle on the wine list costs more than the meal – I feel a little intimidated. We stopped for a drink on the way back to the hotel, and turned in early, after watching the Eiffel Tower do it’s sparking act on the hour.

Next morning we were up early, had a bite and coffee at a bistro, and started walking to the south leg of the tower where we were to meet the Segway people. The park was very crowded with runners going our way, as there was a marathon starting at the Tower. Also Saturday and Sunday were some sort of “Armed Forces Day”, and there was a huge display of armored cars, missile batteries, jet planes, and all sorts of other military equipment. Helicopters circled overhead, and periodically discharged sticks of parachutists with red, white, and blue canopies, who landed on the grass nearby.

We met our two guides, and they broke the fifteen of us who showed up into two groups. Nick, our guide, was a young American who took charge of the four of us, a Dutch couple from Maastricht, and Hugo, their much older uncle. The uncle, who was now living in Paris, also sported a cane, and had a problem walking to the Segway office about 10 minutes away. He wanted to test the Segway to se if it wold be a practical way for him to get about in the city.

We arrived at the office and did the usual business of making a big damage deposit on our machines with a credit card. We got issued helmets (mandatory) and went to a courtyard for our indoctrination. The operation seemed really simple. One used one of two keys; one for a maximum of sis miles an hour for initial training, and a second key that allowed for a nine mph speed. (There was a third key for faster speeds, but we never saw one of those.) After a brief lecture, Nick had each of us in turn a machine on with the key, balance it level, press the “on” button, and step up on a machine and practice simple maneuvers – go forward, go backward, go forward a STOP, turn right and left, etc. To go forward, one puts weight on one’s toes. To go backward put weight on the heels. To turn one twists the left hand “handlebar” one way or the other. Really simple.

We then went back, checked out our machines, packed our belongings like sweaters, water bottles, and the like, into the backpack-sized carrier on the upright. We then went back to the practice courtyard and did just that, learning to control direction and speed and how to go over curbs, etc. Only took about half and hour, and off we went. Hugo had a little bit of trouble, as he had no English, but his companions translated.

We went about three blocks quite successfully, and then came to a tricky part which Nick explained might be the narrowest part of our whole trip; up a low curb and past the curbside tables and chairs of a bistro. Unfortunately, Hugo caught the leg of a chair, panicked a bit, and down he and his machine went. He lost his confidence and went back to the Office, accompanied by his Niece, while someone was dispatched from home base to ride the machine back. Really a shame, as we felt if he had gone a few more blocks he could have easily done the whole tour.

So, the five of us and Nick started again. I cannot tell you the whole route or the order, as my concentration on controlling the gadget got in the way of some memory, but we stopped at the e, Ecole Militaire, Invalides, Rodin Museum, Orsay, Louvre Petit and, Grand Palais, Place de Concorde, etc. At each of which Nick would give a bit of history and helpful hints if we wanted to come back to see the site more thoroughly. At one point we had to dismount the machines and walk them for a bit, as one cannot ride them or bicycles in the Tuileries, where we stopped at an outdoor café for lunch. I had a lovely chicken sandwich on a crusty baguette, and a beer.

Perhaps the beer was not the very good idea, because after lunch we walked to machines down to the Concorde, where I fell on my ass. Turned on the machine, stepped up on it, and promptly forgot everything I had learned. I started to go backwards, and instead of simply shifting my weight to my toes, I tried to lean forward and pulled the handlebars into my stomach – which of course tilted the platform back, and away we went backward t speed until I tried to step off and THUMP, I was on my back in the sand. The machine simply stopped after I dismounted. I picked myself up, dusted myself off and we went off again. As Nick talked to me to see if I was alright, I looked at the large crowd that had stopped to stare, and said, “Boy, have I just lost you a bunch of prospective customers!”

Actually, Nancy went down too, but that was when we were wending our way through the big crown and one of her wheels caught the leg of a barricade as we crossed a street. Tammy had a little argument with a trash can, as well, but no one was injured at all.

It was a wonderful experience, not the least of which was the stares of the surprised people we passed. Every time we stopped, folks would come up and talk to us about these marvelous gadgets. There was a supply (could this be a coincidence?) of brochures in each of our carrier bags, so we could hand people a brochure if we wanted.

We arrived back at the base quite tired, but feeling like we had had a wonderful experience. Well worth the money!

After a bit of a lay down, we all walked over to a bistro near the Rue Cler and had a most satisfying simple meal of steak and frites. We walked to a second place for drinks and desert and then said goodby to our friends who were leaving early the next morning.

Tammy and I were up early the next morning, and eager to do the as many of the things that we had missed about Paris, dived into the Metro, bought a Carnet of tickets and headed for the Louvre. We were about fourth in line at twenty minutes before opening time, and snagged tickets at the carousel immediately, and dove in. What wonderful changes have been wrought since I last visited in the ‘70s! Lordy, I hardly knew where to even start, except that Tammy had the Mona Lisa and the Winged Victory. We trotted from one awesome room to the next without a hope of making a dent. Nick, the day before, had said that if one spent 24 hours a day giving one minute to each thing on exhibit in the Louvre, one would spend 245 days to view them all.

We tore ourselves away after a few hours had given us sensory overload, and headed for St. Chapelle. Tammy is a glass artist and, surprisingly, had never seen the chapel. What a jaw dropper for her. Then we walked along the Seine poking along the stalls selling books, artwork, and souvenirs. Tammy then told me she was taking me to the Train Bleu for an anniversary lunch. It was simply wonderful; a last day extravagance, worth every penny!

That last evening we just wandered, had deserts and drinks in several places that caught our fancy. To bed, then to the Rue Cler for an early morning omelet, followed by a van to the airport and home.

A wonderful, satisfying trip. Thank you, Fodorites.

cocofromdijon

My English vocabulary is not rich enough to tell you how much I would have loved to ride a segway with you (although I can see it can be very dangerous.. I saw them in Dijon, it looks difficult to handle)
Hope you are fine now ;-)

I'm sorry you didn't find the part of Saone you've been sailing not very attractive. La Haute Saône is not (unlike Côte d'Or)very famous for its touristic life. I've just found Gray website where you can see le Mastroquet among other restaurants. http://www.ville-gray.fr/interieurtourisme.htm (they should write the opening times!)

When you talked about trucks selling food in villages, it reminded me of my job as a student, going from a village ~gt; to another to sell bread and pastries(when the baker was on holiday). One of the best time of my life (summer and winter as well!) People were so nice to me.

You should tell us the price of the segway ride and the taxi fare from Pontailler (30km from Dijon) to get an idea... in Dijon it is 15€ for 1h30.
http://www.ot-dijon.fr/uk/vg04_segway.htm

Just want to ad that I had to take my dictionary to understand every word you wrote but at least beside it was pleasant to read, I learnt a few more words ;-)
coco

nukesafe

Well, Corinne, I am glad I could help you with your English vocabulary -- after all, you certainly helped us expand our knowledge of French pastries. Yum!

The fare from Pontailler-sur-Saone was €45. Alot more than the €1 it took to get there, but we had little choice as the bus coming back ran at an impossible 06:30 in the morning, and would have cost us €5.50 each at the regular rate, so €45 split four ways was not so bad.

The cost of the Segway tour of Paris was $95 per person. It lasted about four and ahalf hours, and was money well spent, IMO.

Have you heard from Rachael and Justin? They seemed a very nice young couple. I have their email address, and will send them pictures at the same time I send yours -- soon.