Our last day in Grenoble! We have had a wonderful time with the Tabailloux family, and were sad to go. Before we left the country, Jeannie wanted to take us to a museum in town dedicated to the French Resistance, since Grenoble was one of their headquarters.
It was a very well laid out museum, and thankfully, the signs were in English as well. There were hundreds of stories dedicated to those who risked their lives for the cause of the Jewish people during WW2. Along with photos and documents, the displays held objects such as electronics, a printing press, military memorabilia, and cherished items that were used to aid the cause. There was a feeling of awe and solemnity about the place, and it opened yet another chapter in our knowledge of history.
Afterwards, we did a bit of grocery shopping, looking for European chocolate bars to share with folks back home. I was thrilled to find a few "Mr. Men" books in French, to assist us in our continuing study of the language. Titles such as Mr. Messy, Miss Happy, Mr. Birthday and Mr. Tickle have been popular with children for years.
For our last dinner Jeannie served traditional Swiss raclette (cheese melted on a small grill) served with pickles and potatoes...yum! Raclette originated with farmers and herdsman who prepared melted cheese over a campfire or hearth as far back as 1291. A perfect meal to end a memorable visit. We said goodnight, and turned in early, since we had to be at the Lyon airport early in the morning.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
The Reformation...of Our Plans
Today we headed for Geneva Switzerland, which was only 2 1/2 hours from Grenoble. Since Jeannie was overseeing Marc's heavy load of final exams, we thought it would be a good day to head to the Reformation museum. Jean-Luc had given it such glowing reviews, and I had also read about it in travel guides. It had many innovative interactive displays which helped one navigate the many aspects of the movement...the Reform-ation of the Church.
This move from human laws imposed by the Catholic Church to the laws and precepts of Scripture Alone "Sola Scriptura" was spurred on in Germany by Martin Luther. Formerly a Catholic monk, he never felt forgiven as he sensed his heavy burden of sin day by day. Martin couldn't do enough to merit the love and forgiveness of Christ. Until one day, he read in Galatians 2:16 "nevertheless knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the Law, but through faith in Jesus Christ. This truth freed him...it was faith in Jesus Christ, and not man's works that brought salvation.
So, armed with history and a few maps Jean-Luc had given us, we reached the pristine city of Geneva. Again, we walked in circles, until I was brave enough to ask a book shop owner the directions to the museum. I queried in broken French, and she happily answered clearly in French...along with hand signals. It was just around the corner!
We quickly went on our way, reaching what truly looked like a Reformation like building. Even the doors resembled the place in Wittenburg where Luther posted his 95 theses clearly outlining his beliefs. As I pulled on the iron handles, the door did not budge. "Maybe they are on lunch break" I mused. There was a sign to the right of the door written in French, of course, that revealed the problem: the museum was closed on Mondays. What a huge let down.
So, we did the next best thing, and visited the Reformation wall in a park nearby after lunch. Four men from history are carved from the stone: Guillaume Farel (first to preach the Reformation in Geneva) John Calvin (leader of the Reformation movement and spiritual father of Geneva) Theodore Beza (French, Calvin's successor who emphasized Calvin's doctrine of predestination) and John Knox (Scottish preacher, friend of Calvin, and founder of Presbyterianism in Scotland.) It's interesting to note that these Reformers did not look kindly on statues in their day! Above the statues is the Motto: Post Tenebras Lux or "After Darkness, Light". Martin Luther is featured in a less prominent spot, due to the disagreements he had with Calvin on points of doctrine.
The gardens surrounding the wall were alive with brightly colored orange poppies, and other flowers in purple and blue that added a contrast to the mix. We decided to do a bit of window shopping in Geneva, since we had extra time on our hands, and made a visit to the waterfront that I remembered as a young teen. My Mother and I toured Geneva many years ago together, and this lake was my grand memory of this politically neutral country. It was almost, but not quite as grand, but certainly as clean as I remembered. Not a piece of stray paper on the street, no grafitti on the walls, no homeless on the streets.
Before we went to dinner, we stopped at a chocolate shoppe, hoping to pick up something to satisfy our sweet tooths after our meal. We wondered if it would keep a few hours in the heat, so Dan thought I should ask the shop keeper in English instead of French (I loved the challenge), because it was such a complicated question. So, I asked the woman, "Parlez-vous Anglais?" She replied with a smile, "Oui, mais vous parlez bien Francais...vous parlez en Francais"! How wonderful it was to be told by a Swiss woman that I spoke "beautiful French", or "spoke it well". I was on cloud 9!! Each day I used the little French I knew, I learned a few more words to use the next day. It was a shame that we had to leave in two days. So, I explained my complicated question in short phrases, she understood, and answered me in French. Yes, indeed, the chocolate would keep since in was covered with a special coat that would not melt in one's hand in the heat. We made our purchase, and left to find a restaurant.
Soon, we found a lovely outdoor cafe´ and in no time, were savoring a tasty meal. Mario at one point, wanted more butter for our bread, so I encouraged him to ask one of the waiters in French. He was good at doing that. I instructed him to ask for "beurre", but, when he did, the three male waiters listening said, "Beer?" "Why would a young boy want beer (bier)?" "You mean butter (beurre)"! They laughed, and gave him what he asked for, but Mario was humiliated, and it showed when he arrived back at the table. It discouraged him from speaking French for awhile, but we talked about the "faux-pas" for months.
We headed home to Grenoble, and all but Jean-Luc were in bed at 10pm when we arrived. The re-formation of our touring plans didn't turn out so badly after all.
This move from human laws imposed by the Catholic Church to the laws and precepts of Scripture Alone "Sola Scriptura" was spurred on in Germany by Martin Luther. Formerly a Catholic monk, he never felt forgiven as he sensed his heavy burden of sin day by day. Martin couldn't do enough to merit the love and forgiveness of Christ. Until one day, he read in Galatians 2:16 "nevertheless knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the Law, but through faith in Jesus Christ. This truth freed him...it was faith in Jesus Christ, and not man's works that brought salvation.
So, armed with history and a few maps Jean-Luc had given us, we reached the pristine city of Geneva. Again, we walked in circles, until I was brave enough to ask a book shop owner the directions to the museum. I queried in broken French, and she happily answered clearly in French...along with hand signals. It was just around the corner!
We quickly went on our way, reaching what truly looked like a Reformation like building. Even the doors resembled the place in Wittenburg where Luther posted his 95 theses clearly outlining his beliefs. As I pulled on the iron handles, the door did not budge. "Maybe they are on lunch break" I mused. There was a sign to the right of the door written in French, of course, that revealed the problem: the museum was closed on Mondays. What a huge let down.
Before we went to dinner, we stopped at a chocolate shoppe, hoping to pick up something to satisfy our sweet tooths after our meal. We wondered if it would keep a few hours in the heat, so Dan thought I should ask the shop keeper in English instead of French (I loved the challenge), because it was such a complicated question. So, I asked the woman, "Parlez-vous Anglais?" She replied with a smile, "Oui, mais vous parlez bien Francais...vous parlez en Francais"! How wonderful it was to be told by a Swiss woman that I spoke "beautiful French", or "spoke it well". I was on cloud 9!! Each day I used the little French I knew, I learned a few more words to use the next day. It was a shame that we had to leave in two days. So, I explained my complicated question in short phrases, she understood, and answered me in French. Yes, indeed, the chocolate would keep since in was covered with a special coat that would not melt in one's hand in the heat. We made our purchase, and left to find a restaurant.
Soon, we found a lovely outdoor cafe´ and in no time, were savoring a tasty meal. Mario at one point, wanted more butter for our bread, so I encouraged him to ask one of the waiters in French. He was good at doing that. I instructed him to ask for "beurre", but, when he did, the three male waiters listening said, "Beer?" "Why would a young boy want beer (bier)?" "You mean butter (beurre)"! They laughed, and gave him what he asked for, but Mario was humiliated, and it showed when he arrived back at the table. It discouraged him from speaking French for awhile, but we talked about the "faux-pas" for months.
We headed home to Grenoble, and all but Jean-Luc were in bed at 10pm when we arrived. The re-formation of our touring plans didn't turn out so badly after all.
The Hottest Spot in Europe...
I awoke early, with the sun peeking through the shutters on the lower level. After I had dressed, I walked upstairs, and was greeted by fresh mountain air, a warm breeze, and morning sunlight. Our friend's home had floor to ceiling shutters instead of screens that were closed at night for security, and opened each morning to allow God's beautiful world to enter. What a delight! I wanted to savor this moment for a long time. Since Olivia was up as well, we both sat on the porch and had our devotions as we breathed in the morning. Today was Sunday, and we were all headed into Grenoble to attend worship service at the Tabailloux family's Brethren chapel. Olivia and I drove with Jeannie, and since we had an errand to run, arrived a bit late. The sanctuary was packed full of folks wanting to hear the Word of God, and sing His praises...how refreshing! Jean-Luc had already begun the service, so the three of us sat towards the back.I listened carefully, as my memory of French vocabulary was a bit rusty, but I was amazed at how much I did remember. Jeanne was very patient as I would ask her to translate a word here and there. After the service, we met many friends of the family, who were very friendly and again,
We were soon on our way for a quick picnic lunch on the front lawn of their coffee house ministry "Le Feu"(fire) which reaches out to the university students nearby (Grenoble is a Uni town). It happened to be the hottest day of the year so far, and, Grenoble was the hottest spot in all of Europe that day...we were all dripping!
Jeannie was mentioning various options to occupy our time for the remainder of the afternoon, so, because it was so hot, we decided to explore the deep caves in a nearby town. As we parked and walked towards the caves, we could feel the cool breeze, which was most welcome. Families were picnicking, scattered around a stream below the cave entrance, enjoying the cool air as well. We purchased tickets, and then gathered at the mouth of the cave to begin the tour. We wound in and out of narrow passageways, watching our steps, as the rocks below us were slippery. At times, it became claustrophobic, and we were barely able to squeeze through. Later on, we reached an enormous open cavern, and when we had all assembled, the tour guide turned off the lights. I don't think any of us knew what pitch blackness meant until that moment. It was almost tangible! The tour returned to the entrance, and as we exited, the heat of the day enveloped us once more.
The four of us had our photo taken in the foreground of an ancient aqueduct, still in use. You could almost see the sweat on our faces!
We enjoyed our fellowship and meal in the cooler early evening
air; Jean-Luc and Jeannie and family have made us feel so welcomed and at home...we will hate to part with them.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Vieux-Lyon et Soie
Old Lyon and silk...or was it old silk and Lyon?
We headed south to historic Lyon, and once we arrived, drove around and around the town trying to find the tourist office. We could see the sign pointing to it, but, not the building. How frustrating! The rumors are true; it's impossible to find anything in Lyon. So, we parked first, then walked up to the street level. Voila! There it was. But, unfortunately, it was closed.
Thankfully, I had brought our Frommer's Guide to Lyon, which included a walking tour of this ancient city. We ambled on to the old part of the city, Vieux Lyon, which had been around since Medieval times, and located the oldest street...identifiable by the cobblestone streets and brick walls surrounding us.
Here are Dan and the kids on this old Medieval street, looking for something or other in the drain. Mario had the knack of finding money on the street wherever he went. Lyon was no exception. About a half hour before, he had found a 10 euro note (about $15) on a busy thoroughfare! So, here he is again, searching for what he thought was a coin. No luck this time! Maybe he was hoping that one of the King Louis the "something or other" might have dropped a coin a few centuries ago.
The main reason I wanted to stop here was to visit the 'traboules' or passageways created specifically for the silk traders as they transferred their goods from one street to the next in the rain. Water is not a friend of silk, so they had to protect it at all costs in inclement weather.
Marie Antoinette was said to have been given stockings from Lyon when she arrived in Paris from (what is now) Austria, to meet her future husband, Louis XVI. Poor girl; she was not allowed to bring anything along from her old life, so, she was provided with an entirely new wardrobe upon entry. Literally, a complete change at the border. Only french fashion and materials would do for this princess!
Now, on to the traboules or walkways. Evidently, the tenants in the flats off the courtyards to which these traboules lead, are willing to open the doors or gates on the weekends to curious tourists. We were four such tourists, so, when we rang the bell outside the entryway and, voila, a buzzer sounded, and we were given entrance. Talk about making ourselves at home. We could have woven in and out of these passageways for hours, but it was time to have dinner, and then head for Grenoble.
Lyon is also known for it's cuisine, which is second to Paris. So, we had a lovely meal at an outside cafe´, and, although it was a highlight, nothing could compare to the excitement we felt as we saw our waitress intently reading a tract we had given her (with a tip) moments before. She was hungry for good news.
On our way to the car, we found a delightful old corner silk shop, "Soierie Saint-Georges. It had been there for years, and had a small loom in the back, from which the owner was giving a demonstration. In the front of the store was a small display of lovely silk scarves, some with patterns, and others woven in such a way that it caused the fabric to shimmer and change color, almost like a chameleon. I chose to purchase the latter, which were truly unique.
Since we were to fly out of Grenoble/Lyon back to London in three days, we decided to drive straight to the Hertz office at "la gare d'St Martin" or bus/train station to drop off our car after hours, and meet Jeannie. What a fiasco! We couldn't find the station, Jeannie couldn't find us, she didn't have a cell phone, we did. So we called her home. Marc said that she would meet us at the Europarc next to the station. Again we road around and around. It seems as tho' the street signs lead nowhere! Finally, we drove down the ramp to the underground lot, and after parking, we dragged our luggage towards the Hertz office. There were Jeannie and Luc waiting for us with their SUV. Thank the Lord!
But, our adventure was not over yet...we loaded our suitcases into their vehicle, and headed up to drop off the key. Well, we found the office, but, unfortunately, we needed the license number of the car we had rented, so off Jeannie and Dan went, back down to the garage, while the rest of us looked for a toilet.
Getting the necessary information, they came up, we reunited, dropped off the key, and headed back to the Tabailloux vehicle. Whew! (Not so fast...) We walked to the very door we came out of as we headed up from the underground lot, but it was locked. So, again (does this sound repetitious?) we walked around and around, until we located another door that lead us to the car. We packed ourselves in, and took off for "home." Jean-Luc had just arrived via train from a week long Brethren conference north of Paris. It was good to see him again, and meet the "other twin" Marc, a dental tech, who had been the go between on the phone earlier that day.
We settled into our rooms (the twins graciously offered us theirs), and had a lovely quiche dinner around 8:30pm. It was still bright as day...the sun didn't set until 10pm. What a breathtaking view of the Alps we had. They surrounded us like a giant hug. Bonne Nuit!
P.S. A funny thing happened to us on the way to Grenoble. We stopped at a tollbooth to pay our fee, but only an automated machine was available. Swiping our toll card given us at the beginning of our journey, we dropped what we figured was the correct amount into the slot as directed, but the coins continued to be rejected. We thought it might be damaged coins, so we tried others. Over and over again we dropped them in the slot, with no result, until a muffled voice began giving directions in French via a microphone. It was difficult to tell if the person was live at another location, or, if it was a recording. We listen carefully, but could not decipher the directions, so, we continued to feed the hungry machine. Abruptly, the coins were accepted, and we heard a loud musical "ta-da" from the speaker...at which point we laughed hysterically for 30 seconds. If the guard heard us, he would have pronounced us insane! We still to this day relish telling that story over and over again.
We headed south to historic Lyon, and once we arrived, drove around and around the town trying to find the tourist office. We could see the sign pointing to it, but, not the building. How frustrating! The rumors are true; it's impossible to find anything in Lyon. So, we parked first, then walked up to the street level. Voila! There it was. But, unfortunately, it was closed.
Thankfully, I had brought our Frommer's Guide to Lyon, which included a walking tour of this ancient city. We ambled on to the old part of the city, Vieux Lyon, which had been around since Medieval times, and located the oldest street...identifiable by the cobblestone streets and brick walls surrounding us.
The main reason I wanted to stop here was to visit the 'traboules' or passageways created specifically for the silk traders as they transferred their goods from one street to the next in the rain. Water is not a friend of silk, so they had to protect it at all costs in inclement weather.
Marie Antoinette was said to have been given stockings from Lyon when she arrived in Paris from (what is now) Austria, to meet her future husband, Louis XVI. Poor girl; she was not allowed to bring anything along from her old life, so, she was provided with an entirely new wardrobe upon entry. Literally, a complete change at the border. Only french fashion and materials would do for this princess!
Lyon is also known for it's cuisine, which is second to Paris. So, we had a lovely meal at an outside cafe´, and, although it was a highlight, nothing could compare to the excitement we felt as we saw our waitress intently reading a tract we had given her (with a tip) moments before. She was hungry for good news.
On our way to the car, we found a delightful old corner silk shop, "Soierie Saint-Georges. It had been there for years, and had a small loom in the back, from which the owner was giving a demonstration. In the front of the store was a small display of lovely silk scarves, some with patterns, and others woven in such a way that it caused the fabric to shimmer and change color, almost like a chameleon. I chose to purchase the latter, which were truly unique.
Since we were to fly out of Grenoble/Lyon back to London in three days, we decided to drive straight to the Hertz office at "la gare d'St Martin" or bus/train station to drop off our car after hours, and meet Jeannie. What a fiasco! We couldn't find the station, Jeannie couldn't find us, she didn't have a cell phone, we did. So we called her home. Marc said that she would meet us at the Europarc next to the station. Again we road around and around. It seems as tho' the street signs lead nowhere! Finally, we drove down the ramp to the underground lot, and after parking, we dragged our luggage towards the Hertz office. There were Jeannie and Luc waiting for us with their SUV. Thank the Lord!
But, our adventure was not over yet...we loaded our suitcases into their vehicle, and headed up to drop off the key. Well, we found the office, but, unfortunately, we needed the license number of the car we had rented, so off Jeannie and Dan went, back down to the garage, while the rest of us looked for a toilet.
Getting the necessary information, they came up, we reunited, dropped off the key, and headed back to the Tabailloux vehicle. Whew! (Not so fast...) We walked to the very door we came out of as we headed up from the underground lot, but it was locked. So, again (does this sound repetitious?) we walked around and around, until we located another door that lead us to the car. We packed ourselves in, and took off for "home." Jean-Luc had just arrived via train from a week long Brethren conference north of Paris. It was good to see him again, and meet the "other twin" Marc, a dental tech, who had been the go between on the phone earlier that day.
We settled into our rooms (the twins graciously offered us theirs), and had a lovely quiche dinner around 8:30pm. It was still bright as day...the sun didn't set until 10pm. What a breathtaking view of the Alps we had. They surrounded us like a giant hug. Bonne Nuit!
P.S. A funny thing happened to us on the way to Grenoble. We stopped at a tollbooth to pay our fee, but only an automated machine was available. Swiping our toll card given us at the beginning of our journey, we dropped what we figured was the correct amount into the slot as directed, but the coins continued to be rejected. We thought it might be damaged coins, so we tried others. Over and over again we dropped them in the slot, with no result, until a muffled voice began giving directions in French via a microphone. It was difficult to tell if the person was live at another location, or, if it was a recording. We listen carefully, but could not decipher the directions, so, we continued to feed the hungry machine. Abruptly, the coins were accepted, and we heard a loud musical "ta-da" from the speaker...at which point we laughed hysterically for 30 seconds. If the guard heard us, he would have pronounced us insane! We still to this day relish telling that story over and over again.
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Journey into the Promised Land
From Egypt to Israel
