Bordeaux

Bordeaux is a beautiful city with a long, interesting history, dating back to the days when the Romans laid out its streets and main square - and even before.  Its majestic buildings, constructed of honey-colored stone, exude a warm charm.  Apparently, there has been a friendly rivalry between Bordeaux and Paris in the "grandeur" category, and the huge ornate buildings stretching along the Garonne River are evidence.  Fountains and gardens and grand gates that open into the old city at various points hint at a history of wealthy patrons.  There is evidence, too, like so many cities, of a more recent past of seediness along the waterfront.   But the city has obviously poured money into refurbishing that area, so that now it bustles with folks walking, biking, roller-blading, jogging along the wide, wide promenade that borders the river, as well as eating at trendy little cafes and restaurants, many outdoors.  This part of the city has an airiness and sense of freedom which was pleasant after the gorges and shuttered houses of the southwest.  Looking out on the river, just across the street from our apartment, was a huge skateboard park.  I am impressed that the city would devote this prime real estate to a group of young athletes who so often struggle for recognition of their sport.  Their energy and talent were attractive, and we were not the only passersby stopping to watch. 

                                          The city reflected in the Garonne River.

                                One of Bordeaux's majestic buildings and fountains.

The water mirror, a tiny amount of water that reflects the sky in front of these grand buildings (The Bourse), spurt a fine mist every few minutes.  It was very fun.   

                                             Promenading along the Garonne River.

I was surprised to encounter, scattered around the city, public acknowledgment of links with America, and I found them fascinating and heart-warming.  The first thing that I noticed, a few doors away from the apartment, was a plaque honoring  President Thomas Jefferson, who had been influenced by the time that he had spent in France. Farther along the waterfront was a street named after Martin Luther King, with the caption: “Defender of Human Rights”.   In our neighborhood, in a tiny park, was a reduced size replica of the Statue of Liberty, erected in recognition of the attack on America on 9-11.  And, closer to home, a street and cafe in Bordeaux were named after Jean Louis de Cheverus, the same fellow for whom Cheverus High School is named.  A French native, he ministered to the Penobscot Indians in Maine, became the first Roman Catholic bishop for the Diocese of Boston, and died in Bordeaux.   

Needless to say, we indulged ourselves with great French food, which is so easy to come by.  However, one of our favorite meals was our first ever Tibetan repast - incredibly fresh and delicious.   More traditional were the crepes and omelets, found at a cute little Breton resto, and delicious classic dishes, like my sauteed whole fish and Bruce's carpaggio, the first time he's eaten raw beef!  Other meals were more creative, such as Bruce's fish tagine, featuring unexpected cinnamon and clove flavors.

We were lucky to be staying in a conveniently located small apartment.  It was a cute little place, sort of like a nest, made out of a corner of one of the old wine warehouses along the riverfront.  It was efficiently designed, making great use of limited space and, although the windows were placed along only one wall, which looked out onto an inner courtyard, the light was lovely.  We were able to make breakfasts, and one night we ate supper there.

The small living room, just perfect for us for 4 days, with the ladder-type stairs leading to the bedroom and bath above.  

We had looked forward to spending French Independence Day in Bordeaux.  It turned out to be a more low-key celebration than we had expected, unless we missed something.   The big event during the day seemed to be  the BMX Bike Riding Competition, to sort out competitors who will represent France in London (not at the Olympics, I'm sure).  That evening, when we strolled along the quai before dinner, we came upon ceremonies that are more typical, with a few high-ranking military men and women and lots of branches of the military represented.  The Marseillaise, the French national anthem, was played, and I hummed along.  Red, white, and blue tri-couleur flags were flying everywhere.  Later, as we entered the narrow streets of the old city, looking for a place for dinner, restaurants were overflowing with happy revelers.  None of the places that we had scouted out earlier had a seat available.  We walked and walked and looked and looked.  Finally, we happened upon the Tibetan resto.  It was very tiny and kinda funky and had several empty tables.   The owners were sweet, and the food was delicious.  Nice experience.  Bruce has a talent for picking good places to eat. 

              I don't know who he was, but his uniform reminded me of Charles De Gaulle's.  

The fireworks weren't scheduled to begin until 10:45, rather late for old folks!  But after our Tibetan dinner, we made it to the wharf just in time to get a spot among the crowd, close to where the explosives would be shot off a boat in the middle of the river.  Bordeaux is a city of over a million residents, and a large percentage of them were there to watch the pyrotechnics!  The colorful, sparkly arrays, bursting in quick succession, happened right over our heads.  They were fantastic, the best fireworks that we've ever seen!  Vive la France!