Strasbourg, France-16th June 2011

Finally the day had come when I would embark upon my most looked forward long vacation. As the clock struck 8 I headed to the airport to pick up a certain someone. The feeling was that of elation as well as anxiety and while on the outside I might have looked like one of the many merry people who were happily on their way to the airport to receive their loved ones, on the inside I was a bundle of scepticism, excitement, nervousness and anticipation.

After a harrowing 1 hour train ride -I call it harrowing because I had twenty million butterflies, nervous ones at that, fluttering in my stomach- I alighted at the Stuttgart Flughafen Messe S Bahn station and traversed the last flight of steps towards my 'guest' and co-traveller for the next two weeks. He had been waiting for over an hour because his flight had arrived unusually early. After quickly apprising each other from head to toe (after all, this was the first time that we were face to face minus the several chaperones keeping an eye on us), we retraced my steps back to the S bahn platform and took the S 3 to Stuttgart Hauptbahnof (from here we were to catch the U6 to Gerlingen-my enchanting little urban village).

All the way back, we chatted like long lost friends. Our banter varied from serious subjects like world history to subjects which were so buffoonish that I would rather not mention them here (this even included making faces at each other!!!) . I would like to imprint the memory of the walk home from Gerlingen station in my head so that I can relive it whenever I want. We walked under a clear blue sky on a cobbled stone street and that too on a Thursday (which is supposed to be a regular work day). A tantalising smell of freshly baked bread and freshly brewed coffee prompted me to treat my companion to a cup of European coffee and croissant.

After gorging on scrambled eggs (to my great relief and if I may say so myself I did a pretty decent job), croissants and coffee, we decided to take a short nap. Refreshed and re energized, we explored Gerlingen while also chit chatting to our hearts' content. Our first ever dinner date comprised of red wine and pasta. The day ended on a relaxed note with a light movie at home. Had we been younger, this would have qualified as the best sleepover ever!!

STRASBOURG-17th June 2011

If one runs a search on the Internet one comes across the following description of Strasbourg: It is the principal city of the Alsace region in the North East of France and is close to the German-French border.It is situated on the Ill river and can boast about being a miniature representative of France with a flavour of Germany.

The train ride from Stuttgart to Strasbourg was nearly three hours long and took us through typical European countrysides replete with vast stretches of green pastures, towering windmills and languidly grazing black and white cows. It was abundantly clear to me now why Mr. Yash Chopra chose these locales as backdrops for his blockbuster love stories. However, as the hopeless romantic in me focussed on the scenic beauty of the landscape and floated on a cloud of quixotic fantasies, my scientific and hence practical co traveller dwelved on the structure of the windmill blades and on the formation of contrails (something I obviously learnt from him) up in the sky. This is when for the first time we realized how destiny had struck a perfect balance by bringing both of us together. His practicality toned down my abstraction and kept me grounded while my romanticism left a stroke of colour in his vanilla white world of logic (I would like to believe so).

The train pulled into the main station right on time. 'Bienvenue à Strasbourg'  greeted the electronic female voice as we wandered around the station looking for the Tourist information kiosk. With a map in hand and our back packs tightly strapped to our backs, we must have looked like the typical Asian tourists lapping up all the fantastic story book charm of this medieval French town. We were informed that the city was tiny and could be covered on foot.

'Petite France' and 'Pont Couverts' were our first stops. Petite France is a pretty little neighbourhood nestled in the heart of Strasbourg. Walking through the tiny alleys and across toy like bridges we feasted our eyes on the hustle bustle and picture postcard like sights. Small islands of people enjoying a summer brunch in the sun and street vendors selling colourful sketches of the various landmarks in Strasbourg allured us instantly. Click click click we went with our camera, trying hard to ensure that as many as possible instances and sights got a tiny spot each on the memory stick.

Stopping over at a confectionary which boasted of it's home made wares, we inhaled deepily the delicious aroma of chocolate (this memory till date makes my mouth water). The shop window displayed chocolates and candies of all shapes, sizes, colours and fillings possible. It was a chocolate lover's paradise and despite the slightly steep prices, we decided to sample one each of the dark and the milk chocolate truffles. The little drops of heaven were marvellous and melted in the mouth so exquisitely that the innocent recipients of these (read us) had no other option but to close their eyes and experience the short lived pleasure before it slipped down our throats. Tearing ourselves away from the chocolate shop, we moved on to admire tourist boats sailing in the river Ill.

In that moment as we ambled away merrily, little did we know that in the coming days we were to walk so many miles that for days to come the idea of a stroll would make our stomaches turn :). Speaking of stomaches, the incessant walking had definitely built up our appetites and we decided to take a pitstop at a tiny eatery for a 'quick bite'. Our 'quick bite' quickly turned into a full fledged grand lunch as our waiter (who surprisingly turned out to be of Indian 'Mallu' origin) brought us our order-a gigantic ocean salad comprising of squids, oysters, prawns, salmon, fresh tomatoes, lettuce and crunchy slices of cucumber and a footlong tomato mozzarella sandwich which smelt headily of basil.

Having satisfied the rumble in our bellies, we moved ahead towards the Cathédrale Notre Dame. A large Gothic structure (6th tallest church in the world) awaited us. Dozens of  ferocious gargoyle sculptures threatened to pounce out of the confines of the massive cathedral. The grey exterior enhanced the Gothic'ness' of the cathedral and along with the gargoyles added to the grimness of the edifice. Legends of a secret underground lake and of the mysterious wind which blows around the cathedral impatiently waiting till date for the Devil trapped inside served as the mystic icing on the grim cake. However, the sunny weather and the hoards of visitors in all kinds of summer'y' attires added the much required colour to the surroundings. The South East Asians with their fancy electronic equipment (state of the art cameras, sleek cell phones etc) and their hilarious picture poses (well, victory signs and thumbs up signs in front of a cathedral are kind of hilarious and out of place as well ), the so called obnoxious Americans with their thick, loud accents and their overly relaxed attires, the stiff Europeans in their perfect couture and their prim manners, the odd Indian family (complete with a stern, moustachioed father, a timid salwaar kameez and sport shoes clad mother and two semi westernized children, surreptitiously stealing glances at the very PDA(Public Display of Affection)  that their parents were scornful of) looking uncomfortable amidst oodles of the aforementioned PDA displayed by the westerner love lorn couples, were some of the typical tourists buzzing around us.

The voracity of the tongue beckoned us yet again and we felt ourselves being pulled towards an ice cream shop. Sitting in the center of the square facing the cathedral we devoured our mango ice creams and derived cheap thrills out of looking at the motley crowd and commenting on everyone's attire and behaviour. The age old game of guessing what strangers were discussing amongst each other while sitting at a distance out of ear shot made us feel like little children. A little bit of window shopping and a little bit of aimless strolling also contributed to our beautiful day out. Finally at 4pm, having decided that we had seen it all and that it was now time to head back home as we had an early morning train to Paris, we hopped, skipped and jumped back to the train station just in time to board the first of the three trains back home (it was not a direct train and we had to change trains at two stations).

Exhausted from all the walking and talking, the journey back was quieter as both of us assimilated the events of the day. Upon reaching Stuttgart Hbf, it turned out that the Gods of Rain had finally decided to give my friend a feel of how unpredictable and dirty the weather in Germany can get and so, as we boarded the U6 to Gerlingen, the sky was overcast and the thunderbolts started to create a terrible ruckus. With each passing station, the downpour worsened and we thanked our lucky stars for having the good sense (mostly my friend's) to carry at least one umbrella. Needless to say, the 10 minute walk from the station back home seemed like a year long and finally as we entered the safe and dry interiors of our home, we were an iota short of being completely drenched. Hard as they had tried, the Rain Gods could not dampen our excitement about our impending week long tryst with history as we would wind our way through cities like Paris, Rome, Florence, Venice and Berlin. As the famous John Denver song goes: 'All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go….' we were all packed and ready for our journey through time…

More on this wonderful vacation in my next post….till then in the true French spirit ….Au revoir !!!!