Legends from our own lunchtimes

Wednesday, August 25, 2010


The centre of town is a short stroll from the Strasbourg Motor Yacht Club, which sounds very grand indeed and we are pleased to relate that it's not at all the way it sounds. It feels so much like home, that as we were wandering aimlessly through the back streets of the city centre this morning, smelling the melons at the markets to see if they were ripe, finding reasons not to buy the glorious cakes in the patisserie, watching the tourist touts failing completely to convince anyone to buy anything, and missing out on the last bunch of flowers at the stall, we could barely bring ourselves to believe that it was less than a week ago we flashed through here as day tourists.

Our life this in Strasbourg this week is so far removed from Friday last, that we wonder if it really happened.

Then, we spent a day not quite scurrying, but covering enough miles to ensure that we'd seen the "good bits" and been on the ferry tour and eaten once or twice and drunk not enough in our haste to see more, and wear our shins and knees out completely before the 6:07 to Saverne whisked us away at 300 kilometres per hour.

Now, we are in a familiar city, among friends we've met in other cities, in our home. We are free to wander without a deadline, to discover, or not, as the mood takes us, we like it here and we wonder if we'll be ready to move on when our mooring is required on Friday.

It's a dog's life.


Joan Elizabeth said...

I too found on our recent trip that the return journey was the sweetest. Less scurrying about looking at the unknown and time to savour.

Julie said...

Now ... aint he sweet .. I note the tight hold someone has on his leash ... slobbered on flours ... just what one needs ...

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