(no subject)

Not many English channels here.

Hmm, that's odd.

In a hotel in France (just over the border from Switzerland) watching a German language program about La Sourge (The Surge in English) a place herself and visited the week we got engaged.

Time we went back.

And they've just shown the hillock on which she proposed marriage back on 29-02-1996. (An obscure hump that actually seems to have its own AOC.)

(no subject)

Not many English channels here.

Hmm, that's odd.

In a hotel in France (just over the border from Switzerland) watching a German language program about La Sourge (The Surge in English) a place herself and visited the week we got engaged.

Time we went back.

And they've just shown the hillock on which she proposed marriage back on 29-02-1996. (An obscure hump that actually seems to have its own AOC.)

Travels

As the previous post may indicate, we're now just outside Basel (we're staying in an hotel apartment in St Louis in sight of the end of the no. 11 tram line, 10 minutes from Marktplatz). We've just had supper, and we're lazing back drinking wine and watching a German travelogue about Provence. Which is rather fun, since they keep going to places we know.

(They're currently featuring Les Baux de Provence, whose name passed to Bauxite, though they seem to have neglected the siege machinery on the top.)

The TGV ride from Paris was as easy as we would expect. First stop was Strasbourg. That within 15 minutes out of the Paris station, I could glance out of the window and see nothing but empty countryside is a reflection on (a) how quick the train is, and (b) how empty France is compared to England.

Paris itself was quite something. I can now understand how otherwise sane people can fall in love with the city - it is utterly glorious in so many ways, especially in the spring sunshine.

And oh yes, this is the first place where the bl**dy Internet works. Possibly because it's run by Swisscom, even though we are in France.

Travels

As the previous post may indicate, we're now just outside Basel (we're staying in an hotel apartment in St Louis in sight of the end of the no. 11 tram line, 10 minutes from Marktplatz). We've just had supper, and we're lazing back drinking wine and watching a German travelogue about Provence. Which is rather fun, since they keep going to places we know.

(They're currently featuring Les Baux de Provence, whose name passed to Bauxite, though they seem to have neglected the siege machinery on the top.)

The TGV ride from Paris was as easy as we would expect. First stop was Strasbourg. That within 15 minutes out of the Paris station, I could glance out of the window and see nothing but empty countryside is a reflection on (a) how quick the train is, and (b) how empty France is compared to England.

Paris itself was quite something. I can now understand how otherwise sane people can fall in love with the city - it is utterly glorious in so many ways, especially in the spring sunshine.

And oh yes, this is the first place where the bl**dy Internet works. Possibly because it's run by Swisscom, even though we are in France.