France so far has survived the clash of cultures – the country that put the haute in cuisine vs. the dude so un-discerning he has a website devoted to football and Buffalo wings.
On the off-chance you’re interested, here’s a little blog-type report (oldest entries at the bottom) of his excellent adventure. You’ll also see his stories about the trip in the Boston Herald and elsewhere.
We’ll be back into the hard-core football stuff next week. June and July are historically are slowest months, anyway. So consider this some nice little off-season filler. We’ll be updating it at odd hours throughout the week.
Monday evening - the mighty Ducks!
Rouen is your standard ages-old European town where the most impressive buildings are the massive cathedrals that tower over everything – inspiring, triumphant, centuries-old examples of the industrious spirit and triumph of man!! The cold, severe uninspiring modern buildings, meanwhile, are symbolic of the cultural rot and crushing weight of statist societies.
At least that’s my take.
However, at dinner I ate a plate of duck breast that was cooked in a sauce of its own blood and Bourgogne wine. Now that’s some good sh*t. I take back everything I said about the cultural rot of statist society. The waiter who doubled as a chef cooked it right there next to the table. Viva la France!
The restaurant was called La Couronne (“the Crown”). It was founded in 1345, a few years before the NFL apparently, and it’s most famed as the restaurant that inspired Julia Child to learn about French food. It’s where Child had her first meal.
Of course, it might have been where Joan of Arc had her last meal. Jeanne d'Arc was burnt at the stake a few feet from the entrance of La Couronne. A memorial and a large church mark the site today.
My first destination from the airport was the upper Normandy capital of Rouen
Monday morning (the Road to Rouen, not ruin)
Hell, it’s like a whole different country over here. They speak another language and everything.
Had to hit the road immediately for some appointments in Rouen, the capital of Normandy, about two hours or so from Paris.
Because I have this weird, life-long obsession with World War II and D-Day, I took a detour off the highway to hit the little town of La Roche Guyon. It’s where German general Erwin Rommel had his headquarters in 1944.
The HQ building – you see it all the time in documentaries about Rommel – is this beautiful stone mansion, essentially next to and beneath an old castle that that appears to have been carved from the white rock, with a big ancient crumbling turret above it that looks so old it must have been built back when Al Davis was still relevant.
Of course, there was one little problem with Rommel back on D-Day. He decided to go see his wife for her birthday back in Germany. Rommel’s wife’s birthday was June 6.
So timing wasn’t Rommel’s greatest strength.
Interestingly, right down the road from La Roche Guyon is the little village of Giverny, which you probably know about from Monet who lived there and painted there – including works with clever little names like “Flowers at Giverny.”
Took the obligatory photo in front of his home (which is now a museum). But didn’t have time to go in and learn more about this so-called ahhhttt thing they always talk about.
Departure (Sunday night)
Slept the entire flight from Boston to Paris, waking only to ask for bit of whiskey and a beer. It’s amazing what about eight drinks and a pair of high-powered pills will do to help you relax on a plane.
