Okay, I'm on a ride again. How can I tell? Easy...when I have to tip toe around the room while packing in order not to wake the rooster, I'm on a ride. And that's how today started. My eyes popped wide open at 5:00am, and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't go back to sleep.
So, I caught up with email and tried to check out iPad apps at the Apple store. Couldn't do much there. When I bought this thing the guy at the store told me about signing up with iTunes and making sure I registered with a credit card for the country I wished to do business in. I understood that and signed up in the US with a US credit card (one that hasn't been stolen by gypsies). So...imagine my surprise this morning when the iStore came up in Dutch or Belgium, or something incomprehensible to me. When I queried about language, the page directed me to the iTunes app to change my language; from what, English to English? I registered in English. I went back and verified that I registered in English. So yet again, some technical weenie has decided it's neat to read the server and set the language without providing an intuitive way for the user (his *$#^ing CUSTOMER) to easily change and do bidness with him. (Bidness is an east Texas word. ) Okay...another road break consumed with my new technology, giving me the time to bitch while on the road. What could I do if I had more apps? Could I possibly be more happy?
Finally loaded the bike up, if not the apps list, and pulled out for Bastogne about 7:30am. Nice ride through more farm country, continually gaining altitude. Arrived in Bastogne about 9:30am with a stop for gas and the inevitable "continental" breakfast. Don't get me wrong, they're good. But, hey Lucifer, a deal might be made for some fatback pork, grits, and homemade biscuits.
Between Nivelles and Bastogne. Nice rolling hill country. Looks like Fredericksburg...not as hot.
In fact, threatening rain, I pulled over and added the jacket insert and the rain-pants and heavy gloves. August 2nd and it's about 55° F. Can you love this, or what???
"Okay, so here's the deal. You get to sit around on your butt all day, you get all the grain you can stand, free vet visits and any shot or vitamin you need. The only price is I get to squeeze your tatas twice a day."
(Hmmm...sounds like a marriage proposal, doesn't it? Well, at least for the first month.)
Bastogne was a disappointment, but make up for it...in spades. Riding down to the historic center of the town I found the Citadel, a building much as one pictures the hospital maintained during the German siege of December 16-26, 1944. It was sort of the center of activity, made even more famous by the Hanks/Spielberg production of 'Band of Brothers,' one of my all-time favorite military movies. Since they were surrounded, and fighting mainly to block the five roads leading in and out of Bastogne that made it so valuable, it is difficult to pick "sites," the entire perimeter was a "site." The problem, for me, is the museum was closed (it was 10:00am on a Monday...is this France?) so I don't know if the Citadel was the site of the hospital, or the church whose steeple I could see surrounded by the museum and another, modernized building, but which could not be accessed.
The Citadel. If it's not the place...it certainly looks like the movie setting.
Another, old section of an old building just down the street from the Citadel. See that church spire?
I never could access it.
"Around" back I find this building. Now this looks to me like the real thing. But I don't know..the bloody place is closed up tighter than a mother-in-law's heart. And my friend Wikipedia isn't helping either.
More of the same structure. A memorial.
Adjacent, a plaque honoring those who served, both overtly and secretly.
This, from the museum. The top turret of a Sherman tank. Unfortunately, there were plenty of these available for any museum that wanted one. The German panzers, Tiger or Panther, regularly knocked these tanks out during WWII. The Yanks called them "purple heart boxes," and the Brits Sherman's coffins. The only saving grace is we could produce so many we could keep them fighting. The Sherman was not a place to be in a tank battle in WWII.
But, inside the museum I spied Betsy's great-great-grandfather. And Indian, complete with suicide clutch and right-hand shift lever. Wow! Would I ever like to have one of these in working order. Of course, it'd probably be worth $1M, another reason to want one.
Downtown Bastogne today.
I mentioned earlier that Bastogne was a disappointment, but made up for it. They did. At 10:30am the clock in the Citadel rang the half-hour. The first six notes were the notes to the Star Spangled Banner. All is forgiven. Thanks, Bastogne.
Betsy found this great little bistro in downtown Luxembourg.
From my table
Betsy, languidly lounging in Luxembourg, but watching everything I did.
Lunch was the Three-Pasta Special; Spagetti, the ubiquitous Taggatelles Jambon et Fromage, and a Linguini with Pesto. Too much, and too rich for this now "continental" eater.
But it was good. Shall we say, "well sampled."
Pulled off at a toll area to check if my license had been received by my mail forwarder. Neat stuff! I can (as long as in France) key up a 3G connection, get on the internet and check the website. Man, I thought that was neater'n hell.
Down the road I realized that Monday at 2:00pm here is, like, 7:00am there and the mail hasn't ran since Saturday morning. But, WTH, if it'd been there, I'd have known it!!!
Gassed up in this neat little town of Mutzig in the Alsace region of France.
Waiting on a fast train in downtown Mutzig
Lots of pretty houses, all set off with great flowers
Through Mutzig on Betsy
I was riding along pretty good, thinking I might make Zurich late this afternoon, but the weather gods had other ideas. Just outside Colmar the clouds starting building up and a light drizzle started to fall. Having lived seven years in the mountains of Utah, I could look at the cloud patterns and see it was going to come down. So I decided to stop in Colmar for the night. I had about 20 kilometers to go when I made this decision. About two clicks out of town the bottom fell out. And, of course, I hadn't stopped to don rain gear. Let it rain, let it rain.
I pulled into the first hotel I could see...and believe me, seeing wasn't easy. It was a Novotel, an Accor chain brand I thought was on a par with Ibis. I knew I was wrong when the guy told me 140€ for one night. I wasn't about to argue with animals pairing up in the parking lot, so I said "no problem," and here I am... wondering why this hotel is worth 140€ when I stayed at twice the hotel last night in Belgium for half the cost. But, what do I know. It was worth it at the time. And the internet works.
The hotel fronts the airport runway. A view out back.
That ain't fog folks. It's clouds. But these don't have the rain in them. Those come in slightly higher.
Tomorrow, Switzerland...and roots?
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