A Moveable Feast

Rolling home

Already my last day in Bequia. But unlike most people here I am looking forward to go home, and I think this is a good sign for my current choices in life. Sure the two weeks here were great, and most likely I will come back one day, probably organize a sailing trip with friends next time around the islands. But come back every year for vacation as so many people I met here ? No, there are too many other nice places in this world to (re)discover.

Durning the last two weeks I survived -without seasickness- a fantastic schooner trip south to the Tobago Cays (above photo), my first earthquake, and the first one in 40 years on this island, 7.4 measured in Martinique (and it is not something I need to experience again), several wonderful scuba dives, and a couple of strong Pina Coladas with good Carribean rum. I was so happy to be able to dive again, one of the best activities I can imagine.

The good thing about going to a dive club anywhere in this world is also that you immediately have a family that "takes care" of you, even when not diving. here you see Tony the captain and James the divemaster, who made sure I had a great time below and above the sea. And on their boat I met some of the nicest English people who never let me dive/eat/drink alone again, until they sailed away...

Will now stopover a couple of days in Germany to enjoy the German Christmas markets before heading back to good old strike-country. It will be difficult to work hard after two weeks immersion the very slow Carribean pace.

I need to finish with the last view I am going to have right now from the bar of my hotel, like every night at 5:30 p.m., Carribean sunset time. Sorry for the postcard "kitch", Eiffeltower pictures will be back soon ;)

Researching

My research on fish has started as planned. Yesterday I discovered this guy preparing some dolphinfish on the pier in front of the restaurant, where the fish was going to end up in the kitchen for dinner (I felt an urge to discuss HACCP with him, but then resisted). Now I am ready to be chef de partie.



During my trip here that lasted a couple of days including a delayed flight, a missed ferry and one hour of seasickness on the next ferry after waiting of 5 hours in a strange bar near the harbour of Saint Vincent, I sometimes asked myself why the hell I was doing this to myself. But once I arrived on my little island I knew why I hadn't chosen an easier vacation destination. It's true "once you get there you'll know" (a slogan I picked from a hotel advertisment).

The story is, that about 5 years ago I was on a German cruise ship in the Carribean, and for one of the "land" trips, I had booked a one-day sailing trip through the Grenadines. We stopped for two hours in a bay that was so beautiful, that I decided that I want to come back one day to this island, called Bequia (pronounce "beck-way") and stay longer. Now, five years later, I am here and staying two weeks. And it is as beautiful as I had remembered. Not many tourists yet, sunshine, turquoise sea, empty beaches, very friendly and relaxed people, lots of beach bars no luxury or all inclusive resorts, and very cool atmosphere. After two days I have only seven moskito bites, one proposal to buy a catamaran with a Canadian guy, no sunburn (gettting carful with the age), one day trip booked on a schooner to go further south to the Tobago Cays and to become seasick again, five scuba dives scheduled. So you see I am very busy.

Every body talks to everybody here. And you are supposed to greet everybody you meet on the street. Something I still need to get used to. What a culture shock compared to Paris.

There are a couple of expats and lots of sailors. No French, some German and lots of Brits. I met for example that English lady, who used to be a manager and then decided she has had enough, and went from then on sailing everywhere in the world. Right now she is helping that Canadian guy, (the one who wants to buy a catamaran with me) to learn to sail. He quit his management job in Toronto, bought a sailing boat, will sail down to Venezuela, and doesn't know yet what to do after that. Or that German guy, who looks like Keith Richards, and lives here since 30 years, and sails every two years from here to Germany to visit his children. Funny crowd... My vocabulary is enriched by words like, jetty, dinghy, etc. In two weeks I will be able to talk like a sailor.

My hotel is in the "busy" part of the island, so today I walked across the island to the beach, called friendship bay, where I discovered Bequia initially. Here the postcard pictures for which some people will hate me. But I just need to enjoy my last vacation and life before starting my job in December. I deserve it. I just assume there won't be much of a life anymore then....

Friendhip Bay on Bequia

View on Admiralty Bay from my hotel room


The jetty of the dive club in Admiralty Bay

More on Bequia.

Gone fishing....

...and diving. For professional reasons of course ! I need to do some research on the original environment of fish. Hey, if they want me to be in charge of the fish station I'd better know something about those animals. So I think the best way to learn is to observe them under water in the Carribean.

I will try to leave strike-country somehow tomorrow morning (wish me luck, it is not obvious), and hopefully arrive on a small island in the Grenadines (close to Venezuela) Saturday afternoon. Until then I will take a two-hour train, a three-hour bus, an eight-our plane, a one-hour plane, a one-hour ferry and sleep in 3 different towns on the way (Strasbourg, Frankfurt and Barbados). I could have shortened the first part from Paris to Frankfurt, but now air controllers and Air France go on strike too...Actually today everybody is on strike in Paris, teachers, train and metro workers, post office, hospitals, air controllers, opera workers, etc. etc. It's getting insane. A good time to leave this country for a while. I believe my destination island has an internet cafe, so maybe I can share news about my fish research from there, if I find the time. But I will be extremely busy !

Otherwise will be back mid December.
Happy happy Thanksgiving to my American readers.

Back from Cappuccinoland

I am now back in Paris after having spent 5 fantastic days in Bologna. And my anticipation about the best Cappuccino of this world was confirmed. I don't know how they do it, but the milk's texture is close to cream rather than foam. Heavenly. And only in Italia they would make a love declaration even by the way they serve a Cappuccino ...sigh...

Bolli is requesting more torturing food pictures, but as I took about 150, I will select and post them later. Katrina and I also walked and visited a lot, although food research was one of our key activities.

Unfortunately I still have nothing in writing about the job I interviewed for, and when I called them today some elements were a bit confusing, so I think about starting to interview with other restaurants... I wouldn't be able to really enjoy my vacation planned for end November, without knowing what will be happening after my return.

pasta, vino, cappuccino, prosciutto, etc.

I am heading to Italy for a couple of days, taking the train tomorrow morning. I couldn't resist the temptation of discovering Bologna, a town I have never been to, and the local food specialties with Katrina, who moved there a couple of weeks ago from Paris, and invited me to join her there for the long weekend. 

It didn't take very long to make my decision. It is almost certain now that as of mid December I will have a job, which also means that I won't have vacation and the opportunity to travel for a while, and will spend my weekends sleeping to recover from a 70-hours-in-the-kitchen week, so I decided I need to make the most out of the time that is left before I start. And anyway I have never been sure whether I don't love Italy more than France, so it is good to check from time to time....

I am especially looking forward to really good cappuccino, often copied but for some mysterious reason nowhere as good as in Italy (although friends have told me, the one I make is not too bad....). 

Ciao tutti, a presto !

Tapas in San Sebastian

Before you continue reading, please take note of this warning :

The following pictures contain culinary tempting content and may torture your taste buds resulting in a desire to quit everything immediately and leave towards the Basque country.

So it happened at least when I showed my photos of the tapas (called pintxos there) bars in San Sebastian to Diane and Katia this week. They both wanted to go there immediately as a consequence.

San Sabastian, a seaside resort on the Bay of Biscay was just a two hour train ride away from Magescq, so I had decided well in advance to spend one of my free "weekends" (my days off were actually Monday and Tuesday) in October there. But I had not expected such a culinary paradise.

Quoting from the last "Food & Travel" magazine issue : "San Sebastian (Donostia to the Basques) is a city which devotes itself to food and drink, where foie gras forms part of the daily diet, where salt cod is more highly prized than caviar [...] gastronomy is a religion here". Do I need to say more ?

Now simply enjoy the photos. I am happy that I eventually found a great tool that lets me share more pictures with you, without spending a whole day editing my blog. Just click on the big picture to move on to the next one, by moving the cursor on the small picture a comment for the picture will appear. If you want to go there, please let me know, I am in to repeat a bar-to-bar night anytime. If you go without me, find my adress list below... ;)

Tapas (Pintxos) bars :

Usually you get a plate, then you just pick all the tapas you want and show your plate to the waiter behind the bar who will count, or sometimes the tapas comes with toothpicks, then you pay at the end simply according to the number of toothpicks you collected.

I got along very well in all those places, even without one word of Spanish. Everybody was very welcoming and friendly to me (maybe because I consumed a lot ?).

Garbola Bar
Paeso Colon, 11 (on the "other" side of the river, Gros neigbourhood)
small bar, but nice selection of tapas, and a prowd and friendly owner, that has pinned all his awards and press clips on the wall)

Martinez
31 de Agosto, 13
Award winning Tapas, but less ambiance.

Bar Aralar
Puerto, 10 (old town)
big choice of quality tapas, and very good ambiance

Bar Astelena
Inigo 1 (old town, on plaza de la Constitution)
my favourite one
"gastronomic" pintxos with foie gras and high quality bread and jamon
According to Food & Travel magazine the story goes that Juan-Marie Arzak was inspired here by one of the pintxos (hake in pastry) and turned it into one of his signature dishes ("pudin de krabarroka").

Hotel :
Following a recommendation in the French "guide du routard" I stayed in the

Hostal Alemania
San Martin, 53
+34 943 46 25 44

clean, quiet, safe, very helpful & friendly & professional service
1 minute from the Concha beach, 10 minutes to walk to the old town
reasonnable prices (I paid about 65 Euros a night)

Biarritz

Another Magescq highlight, my visit to the local doctor, young, tall, blond, blue eyes, and obviously nervous when writing my prescription, as he got the date several times wrong, with a nervous giggle, has resulted in my flu being healed, so I could realize my plan to spend my time off this week in Biarritz. However I decided I might get sick more regularly here, just to get more of those surprinsingly pleasant prescriptions.

It was my first time in Biarritz, and I loved it ! A sea-side resort, famous for its beaches, with lots of café terraces with view on the ocean. A change of landscape compared to the sandy beaches of the Landes region, with rocky cliffs, and a wild ocean attracting surfers from all over the world.

I walked a lot on the oceanfront, took a lot of pictures and in particular I thought a lot. Especially about the job opportunity that awaits me in Paris. Since I have some more details now, I am a little less enthusiastic, and will have to weigh a lot of pros and cons against each other before jumping to early on just the first opportunity. I am especially scared about the hours, which would be working "coupure" a double shift with 14 hours per day, (!), 5 days a week, as I am not sure I can handle that. Also I need to focus on my objective of running one day my own bistrot, and not go for the wrong reasons, like status, a job just for "the CV" and escaping from Magescq, for a job that will not make me happy neither contribute towards my ultimate plans.

Le Forêt Landaise

This  Monday was the first full day off after busy four weeks, which represented the most important season for the restaurant. Eventually the weather has turned to what it should be in August, and the sun came out. Just in time !

I took "my" bike and went 30 km south to the seaside resort of Hossegor, a town where I had spent my first vacation in France ever 30 years ago. It took me about 3 hours including pauses de café and photo breaks. Almost all along the way there was a dedicated bike path through the Forêt Landais, the biggest European forest. After the last tough and busy weeks this was a wonderful way to relax, take some distance and enjoy the beautiful nature in this area.

From the country of the real Budweiser

I am spending the weekend in Prague with my friend Nina, who I was my colleague at HP during my life #1 and who moved here 3 months ago from Munich for the job into a wonderful appartment overlooking the Moldau.

The weekend is very exhausting, we walk from cafe to beerhall to café terraces along the Moldau etc. and try to capture some of the history in between as well. Obviously I requested to dine at a good typical Czech resturant with more locals than tourists, which is not so obvious to find in this town invaded by German, Japanese, and British tourist groups.

We checked out a brewery that was recommended in several guides and also by a friendly talkative American "local" guy in the English bookshop where we had spent two hours.

So I did get my fair share of the real Budweiser, and good Czech food. For the Budweiser : don't believe those Americans who think it's from St. Louis, (Missouri ?). That's what they tell you there. But no, Budweiser is originally Czech beer from a brewery in the the city České Budějovice (German: Budweis) in the Czech Republic. Just for those who didn't know. And don't trust people from St. Louis....

For the food : Meat, bread dumplings and lots of sauce, reminded Nina and me a lot of Bavarian food, so we liked it. With the beer we ordered as recommended stinky cheese and sausage in vinaigrette. I loved that combination too. Here is what I read in one of her books titled "The Czech's in a nutshell" :

Czech culture has produced astonishing achievements in a wide vrange of disciplines, but in one field the result is more than depressing : the country's cuisine. .[...]  Unfortunately, that multitude of influences does not apply to Czech cuisine, which seems to be not only influenced but downright regurgitated from one single tradition : the German. And say what you want about the Czechs' great neighours to the West, but their cuisine is definitely not their greatest contribution to mankind.

Although this sounds like my answer when asked why I don't move back to Germany, this hurts. But anyway : Na zdraví ! Dobrou chuť! Prost und guten Appetit !

Un weekend a la mer

Just got home from a weekend without computer and without kitchen, but with a camera, in Normandy. Although I want to go to bed early tonight to be in shape tomorrow morning for the first day of my stage at La Bastide Odeon, I decided I will quickly create a post and share some of the 150 photos I took..... Just anticipating that tomorrow evening the weekend will be forgotten and other things on my mind to write about. (On the other hand, I might get home only after the dinner service around midnight, and then be even too tired to write ANYTHING, we'll see).

I stayed in Deauville, which is also called "le 21e arrondissement", as many Parisiens and Parisiennes spend their weekend there, to get fresh air but also to find many chic boutiques as in some parts of Paris (so I guess they don't miss their capital too much while there).

For my part, I skipped Dior, Gucci and Versace stores, but preferred spending money only on simple pleasures in seafood brasseries, that are often right next to the fishing boats or the marché aux poissons. The seafood could not have been fresher than there. Often they were all still alive, like the ones on the pictures below, taken on the fish market on Saturday morning.

The classic postcard picture of Deauville is its boardwalk by the sea, called Les Planches ("the boards"), with a collection of bathing cabins, and its rails inscribed with American actors and directors names, that have visited Deauville at least once during the annual American film festival.

Around sunset this boardwalk got very popular and for a February weekend already quite crowded, while I prefered to get wet feet and play with my camera in the sand...

Sunday I took the bus to another very picturesque village nearby, Honfleur, famous for its old beautiful port, that has inspired many painters, Monet being one of them. I had seen pictures before, but it was even more beautiful than I had imagined. I felt like projected back in time a couple of hundred years ago, it seemed nothing had changed over time (except for some more tourists...).

To make my Sunday perfect the sun came out just at lunch time, and I was lucky to find a outdoor table in the sun with view on the old port in a seafood restaurant (actually all restaurants there were seafood restaurants...). Delicieux. Merveilleux.

I am glad I went for this short but very relaxing and tasty weekend to a region of France I had never been to. Most of the time I felt as excited as a little child about all the new things I discovered. But now : back to sharpening knifes and ironing my uniform for tomorrow morning... At 8:30 a.m. I have to show up at the restaurant !