Final score in the big Bureaucracy Showdown: Tracey&Andrew 2 d French Bureaucracy 1

After five and a half months here and following innumerable fruitless questions, wasted visits and ambiguous letters we have only three weeks left until we head home. Strange then that we should only now be the proud, exhausted possessors of valid visas to stay in France for the last 23 weeks and another three.

Foodivores outside the OFII in Grenoble, with valid visas

Keen followers of this titanic battle (us versus the monolithic French bureaucracy) will recall when the score reached 1-1. We won't lay out the worst of the details right now: we're just relieved.

Ripatransone: unpublicised beauty on the Adriatic coast

Sunset from Relais del Colle - great spot for an aperitivo

Sated by the slightly ragged grandeur of Venezia we headed to a spot near Ripatransone, which is just off the Adriatic coast. On the way we got a look at a typical Italian summer beach scene which, to those used to long clean empty stretches of sand, looked alien: a veritable clogged maze of umbrellas, sunlounges...tucked behind paid admission entrances. Gulp - wonder what Amalfi will be like.
Those thoughts were forgotten when our larger-than-life host, Luciano, greeted us enthusiastically at the Relais del Colle. Peppering his speech with contented utterances of "perfe-ecto", he got us settled right in by suggesting a rest, a dip in the pool, with dinner to be served sometime after 8.30. We willfully added an aperitivo under the pergola, perched high on a hilltop, watching the sun's marvelous brazen orb sink behind the surrounding hills and turning to silhouette the numerous hilltop towns. Once full darkness fell these emerged again as twinkling fairy tale clusters of lights in the distance. Belissimo! The Marche area is mostly undiscovered by non-Italian tourists and has the look of what we imagine the Tuscan countryside to be (only a week until we'll be there to compare).
We were caught unprepared for the extent of dinner - well we thought we were hungry and ready, but the pace was challenging. The Relais serves its own organic/biodynamic produce, and it's delicious. Warm, sweet tomatos on bruschetta, dipped through little pools of sweet and fruity olive oil. Succulent cantaloup with prosciutto. A large platter of homemade tagliattelle alla Ascallana (with a sweet tomato & tuna sauce)....we shouldn't have finished that one, because no sooner we had than another (only half the size - ie enough for two or three people) appeared because we clearly needed more. Learning from our error we left some of the second helping, and were then confronted with the main course of roasted pork with a delicious saute of zuchinis. Fearfully, we tried to do it justice but barely managed half. Sweets were then upon us: a trio of sorbets that were pure in flavour and a relief (we'd heard talk of cake, which by this stage sounded scary). They also make their own organic wines wine flowed readily.  Luciano then serenaded us with some lovely piano, before thrusting a guitar at Andrew and telling him it was his turn. It's been a lot of years....but the couple nearby didn't seem too critical. Luciano then whipped out a tray of digestivos: grappas infused with a variety of flavours (basil, sage, elderflower, peach and several others). All homemade with the farm's produce, and all delicious. After sampling a little of them we resolutely called time and waddled upstairs to bed.

Tracey and friend - Ascoli Percena

Palazzo at Ascoli Perceno

Reflections at Hadrian's Villa

We were beguiled by Luciano's offers of breakfast (including of grappa and/or limoncello, both of which we declined) but kept it light and headed off to Ascoli Piceno. This is the major town in the area, tucked away from the coast a little and ornamented by a charming old town centre. In the prevailing European tradition the heart has been largely pedestrianised which adds to the charm. The town was readying itself for an evening festival (possibly the major annual festival, or maybe just in honour of the local soccer club - it's hard to tell when you don't speak the lingo). We called our fathers for Fathers' Day (hi Eddie & Don) and then strolled around listening to marching bands warming up, observing numerous sets of wedding photos an generally liking the white stone buildings and streets. In one of the central piazzas we discovered lunch, which turned out to be a good-value stomach-stretching excursion through many typical local dishes. For a four to five course meal, with wine and coffee included, 26 euros was a bargain (note - your euro buys you far more food and wine in Italy than in France).

Luciano was happy to arrange a "light" (the term is relative) dinner of bruschetta + olivey nibbles, pasta and a mousse-like fresh peach dessert and more of their homemade wines - followed by a little nip of limoncello of course ;-) also homemade.

Leaving is always hard, and this was no exception. We hadn't found the chance to use the Turkish bath, have a massage, use their Wii or any other of the many diversions available. Relais del Colle goes down as one we highly recommend, and intend to return to.

Glory faded before the physique

En route from Ripatransone we found time to pass through Tipoli (sorry, Tivoli, but it's a dump) to check our Hadrian's Villa. Some excellent Roman ruins warmed us up for a future excursion to Pompei.....

Return to Venezia

Back on Ponte Accademia, five years later

Tracey on the campo

Innumerable writers have grasped for the perfect simile for Venezia, and we're prepared to add our own: a magnificent main course from the best of restaurants, with a third already eaten. The obvious glory is still there, but impeccably presented it no longer is. You just want to see it at its prime to see if your imagination matches the reality.

A lovely afternoon cruise down the Grand Canal

Those that believe that it's a great big tourist trap and that you can't find good food in Venice just don't know where to go (admittedly, it's hard to know where to start and there's a lot of food/fuel that we're not interested in). We were lucky enough to find a dazzling range of options fit for such a jewel. From the tapas-style food at our local osteria to the sumptuous multiple courses dining at the campo outside our accommodation. Dining at Cantina Canaletto in the cave (wine cellar) the walls of vino from which any can be had by the glass, the charm of the violinist playing in the room next door, the ridiculously-sized wine glasses (over a litre in size), the beautiful bottle of Montepulciano. A 7 course lunch at Osteria di San Marina that sits under the balcony of our room - including suckling pig, smoked-at-the-table tuna, millefoglie of dark chocolate and mousse. The local unpretentious osteria for some of the best-ever meatballs, cold roasted fennel, sardines. Stopping in for an espresso and fresh warm tart of mushrooms or anchovies for breakfast.

Being our second visit we felt liberated from the must-do list of Basilica San Marco, Doge's Palace and so on. Instead we were able to relish in the simpler delights:

• Strolling the quiet, local (tourist-free) corners of Dursoduro and near the Arsenal
• Checking out the famous fish & produce market at Rialto
• Heading offshore to Murano to observe the creation of glass "items" (the only word suitable to encompass everything from the elegant to the downright hideously tacky).
• The charm of a private gondola cruise with a cold bubbling glass of Prosecco, with the gondolier occasionally providing interesting insights on Venice, its canals and the people who have lived there, and other time providing a quiet suitably atmospheric song/humming.
• The yellow-rose light fading on the various campaniles near sunset
• Our decadent marble and velvet filled room (Hint - a good room in Venezia is worth it. You do so much walking and it can be really warm, so a handy comfortable retreat for a couple of hours is the perfect tonic to be able to get out again in the evening to see even more.)
• Observing a ridiculous giant cruiser that was large enough for a full-size cruising yacht to be strapped to the side for occasional jaunts (we'd seen motor launches in similar spots in Barcelona, but this took the prize). Perhaps the Venice Film Festival had attracted some stupidly expensive guests?
• The reprieve from traffic and cyclists - not to be overestimated in Europe. The ease of canal transportation was equal to the Paris metro, which for us is high praise.

  

  The entree platter is as big as the glass??

  

  Lovely bouquet

  

  Tracey outside our favorite osteria

  

  Somebody's lunch just waiting to happen- Venice fish market

  

  Scenes from Rialto

  

  It looks like this so often - charming

  

  Andrew on the balcony, checking out the campo

  
  

Lake Como, Bellagio...but soft! What light from yonder window breaks?

Tracey sunning herself at Bellagio

Pierrot (his Italian alias) escorted us into Italy under blazing sunshine, the only relief from which has been at night and in the many tunnels burrowed through the hillsides (good thing too - you should see the narrow lakeside roads). A short ferry trip across Lake Como brought us to within 100 metres of our destination: the Hotel Metropole in Bellagio. Traversing the distance was an episode in its own right, because hot summer Sunday afternoons in charming villages tend to draw thick crowds, and this was no exception. Once we'd gained access to the pedestrianised section of town it was a case of gently steering Pierrot through the throngs, waiting for them to gradually acknowledge the unexpected presence of a car in their midst.

Once we'd checked in we discovered magnificent views out over Lake Como from our room's balcony - we were literally lakeside. The smashing views and scenery have been one of the recurrent "pinch me I must be dreaming" aspects of this trip.

Italy is, of course, a Food Country. The change in style was immediate, welcome and delicious. Scallops with creamed broccoli & truffle sauce, papardelle with gooseliver & truffly bits, tortelloni with lake fish & thyme at Cafe Suisse. Prosecco, spinach/ricotta ravioli with truffle sauce followed by a gooey chocolatey tartufo nero at Metropole. Omelette with summer truffles followed by a generous plate of formaggio at Belvedere.

The local wines were also a delight - for example, Lugana whites which recall both viognier and semillon/sauv blanc. To say nothing of grappa and a very happy reunion with limoncello!

Two nights were lovely, and we'll happily return to both Bellagio and the hotel again to soak up more of the ambience of the charming lake.

Verona beckoned...both the doomed romance of Juliet & Romeo and an animal park Deb had recommended to us. Quite by accident we found ourselves gazing upwards at a balcony, only to realise it was the famed Capulet balcony upon which Romeo is said to have espied Juliet. It was only appropriate that Tracey should ascend and Andrew remain below. It must be hoped that the celebrated lovers were spared the thronging crowds and the walls embellished by grafitti, lipsticked kisses and chewing gum (?what was that about?)!

Look closely to find the baby hippo

Food in Verona had one big highlight: Osteria del Ugo. We were treated to, among other things,  musso ravioli, slow-cooked musso, fabulous filet of beef with a chocolate-looking balsamic and red wine sauce. Fabulous dining. (PS musso is donkey.)

The drive-through animal safari park on the way out gave us some great up-close looks at critters, none dumber than the sheeple who let their children hang out car windows as they drove through leopard territory (we kid you not). Pierrot wasn't intimidated though: we've realised that the Peugeot logo is in fact the rare, smooth-tailed rampant wild squirrel. More than a match for any mere rhinoceros!

Wherefore art thou Andrew?

Bellagio from the Lake

Lake Como: view from our balcony

Wengen

Swiss banks: less secure & with a more diverse clientele than imagined

Sharing a beer

View from the room

Taking the ausfahrt (exit) out of France, we found ourselves in the land of extremes, Switzerland. We arrived in beautiful sunshine. To get to our home for the next 4 nights we had to leave Pierre and train it to a small carless village called Wengen. The trains are more funicular in their design, that scale the side of the mountain with gorgeous views over mountains, waterfalls and small Swiss villages. Arriving in Wengen it was just a short hike to Hotel Belvedere, home. Stepping out onto our private balcony, the view was breathtaking (and not because of the altitude, Wengen is at 1274m). We had an expansive view over the verdant valleys, tall waterfalls and mountains, including Jungfrau and it's snow covered peaks... the perfect place to sit with a glass of wine and absorb the clean mountain air. Our first full day we decided to work off some of France and climb some mountains. We must confess to taking the easy option for the first 1000m of the climb and caught the mountain train up to the start of our planned walk for the day...though we more than made up for it during the remainder of our 5 hour trek. The views of the Swiss Alps were breathtaking as we descended and ascended through the mountains on a gloriously sunny day. The sun glistened off the snow peaks of the Jungfrau as we heard the whistling of the marmots, the bells of the cows (and occasional donkey...everything is better with a donkey), the sounds of falling rocks (mostly from psychotic cyclists rather than avalanches for which there were warning signs). We stopped for a cold drink with some goats on the way down the mountain. Could you imagine a more perfect Alpine summer day? The sun streamed down (about 27 degrees, with a bit of peeling to show for it), a gentle breeze blew (but never when we were walking uphill), and the Swiss were thoughtful enough to ensure that their drinking water was icy cold. The views up across Jungfrau and down towards Grindelwald were breathtaking - naturally. Here's the thing about Switzerland that everyone else has always said and is really true: the colours are incredibly vivid, and everything really does look like an oversaturated postcard. The big difference is that it's real, and we drank in every electric-koolaid-coloured moment.

Aere Gorge

The fondue was well deserved by the time we descended back to our alpine retreat in time for dinner. A foodie heaven Switzerland is not but we did have a couple of highlights...other than the fondue; a divine velvety creamed spinach & garlic soup and a warming liver dumpling broth. There's also the cheese, we discovered a fabulous local cheese called Challerhocker and another made nearby beneath the north face of the Jungfrau. A bit of extra cheese was also naturally found in the fondue of which we had a gorgonzola one and a traditional which you could taste the rich flavours of the local wines used. Switzerland is not for the fainthearted or the short pocketed, it is ridiculously expensive. The short train ride to the start of our walk, one way for two people, took a total of 10 minutes but cost 40 Euro (about $70), no wonder we walked the return journey.

Our second day was somewhat wet, what a perfect opportunity to go to Aere Gorge, this is the gorge where a couple of Australians were killed in a flash flood a few years back. The gorge is a long stretch of narrow cliffs for which a torrent of water flows though and you are positioned on a platform path that trails it a few metres above said torrent. The day cleared a little for our stroll through Interlaken and a scenic drive through the hills. Switzerland is certainly a place to which we'll return and our hotel in Wengen, Next time we'll stay a little longer and get the six day train pass to take us through and to scenic locations. The only disappointment was a planned visit to the glacial ice caves Tracey visited 18 years previously. Unfortunately we discovered the glacier, its cave and carved sculptures, has since melted.

Our intrepid heroes in front of the Jungfrau

Trail friends

Looking fab in Marmotte country

It really looks like this all the time

La Croix

The Jouty farm at La Croix

Base-jumpers near Annecy, day after the Oz election

Everywhere small that attracts travellers from afar has a long story, and that of La Croix de La Rochette's claims on us is no exception. In short: it is the childhood and part-time current home of Yvonne, a wonderful friend who can still recall Andrew as an infant and who, along with with her mother Madame Jouty, plays a hugely significant part in the Foodivore "origin story".

Pre-dessert...for two

The region, Savoie, is a gorgeously diverse place in the foothills of the French Alps. To call them foothills rather understates things though - we're talking peaks of up to 2000m or so. Winding through these are various gorges and mountain passes - Col de la Madeleine in particular sticks in the mind. Pierre was in fine form, toplessly touring us under blazing sunny skies (it was a little incongruous to cast our votes in Geneva in 26 degrees, knowing that winter's grip was still firm on our home).

Moonrise from La Croix

When we weren't taking in the charm of Yvonne, her home and the surprisingly-full house there was time for a few other moments.....

• Our discovery of the wines of Savoie which, typically of French wines other than Bordeaux and Burgundy, are largely unknown elsewhere. Mondeuse is a grape variety we'd not heard of before which offers a beguiling balance between lightness and full-bodiedness. Can't wait to try some in Tuscany with homemade dishes!
• By accident (we and the others lost one another in a little town called La Cote St Andre and handily found each other in the town's best eatery, all having reckoned that if all else fails you should eat well while working out how next to proceed) we had a splendid 9-course meal that contained some new ideas for us (flavours & presentation....giving nothing away just yet). Check out the photos to see what a gratis "pre-dessert" for two consists of!
• An unexpectedly fine purveyor of malt whisky in Grenoble when we, yet again, tried to conclude our dealings with the French bureaucracy. Anyone who thinks that the Australian counterpart is inefficient and rigid really needs to get some perspective: it may be tiresome, but it's nothing compared with the inexpertise we've encountered.



Yvonne displays part of the pre-dessert

• Sadly, our final French market experience in Chambery. It was with some nostalgia and the sorrow of parting that we browsed the stands, seeking out the components for a cassoulet that we'd promised the crowd. (The cassoulet was pretty damn good, but without goose lacked the crowning component that we learned of in Najac).

Pierre and Andrew in the Savoie gorges

Tracey at La Croix

Yvoire on another unendurable mountain day

Tracey adding her own radiance

Yvonne and Andrew at La Croix

More base-jumpers (crazy buggers)

At the end of a wonderful, far-too-short week, we bade au revoir to Yvonne, and to France itself, and pointed Pierre uphill towards the true Alps...and Switzerland..

Lyon: where the Rhone meets the Saone, and the food is generous to say the least

We had heard Lyon referred to as the "food capital of France" and had for months been anticipating this stop. Much of what we'd been reading talked of the bouchons (an iconic local style of eatery offering local specialities), so we got brave and went an-eating. Having only two nights, we figured we could fit in a good four meals (dinner, lunch, dinner, lunch). As Brutus said of Julius Caesar, ambitious. Something we hadn't counted on was the fermeture annuelle (annual closure for several weeks to take holidays) - a surprising chunk of the town was shut, including some eateries we'd wanted to visit.

Unusual place for a meeting...

First up was Cafe des Federations, which proved a unique experience. No printed menus: a single 19-euro menu with a verbal list of options (ordering in French can be challenging enough at times, even when you can read it, but when you're being offered exotica such as calf's head, breaded tripe, blood sausage and the like there's a good chance you weren't taught this in school). Staff who, while perfectly helpful and professional, were keen on banter with customers (more tough French moments), as well as bagging each other out at high volume. A single squat toilet....shades of the Inca Trail. All in all this was a memorable occasion, but we wish that our French was better so that we could have joined in more. We waddled home and resumed research for the next day.
The day was glorious so we skipped breakfast and tried to earn lunch with a climb up the western hill to check out some Roman ruins. No-one said anything about Tracey having a work meeting that morning so we were most surprised when we bumped into Sarah, a work colleague (and Peter her partner), last seen in Hobart at Tracey's bon voyage work dinner. The UTas amphitheatre it was not!

A little vaudeville in Lyon

Lunch was at Aux Trois Petit Cochons (the three little pigs) which, as you may guess, specialised in pork dishes (Jews, Muslims and Ingrid may prefer to dine elsewhere). This was a cracking experience, with a pair of waiters that reminded us of some famous actors (a camp Dominique Pinon, and Nicolas Cage if you're wondering which). Salad of pig's ears, poultry liver parfait - and those were the starters.  The really serious stuff involved gratin de andouillete and the most succulent, jaw-droppingly delicious oxtail (parmentier de queue de boeuf)......fabulous, and certainly one we'll be trying to replicate. The waiters forced dessert on us. We tried so hard to resist....really...but the virtues of the Mousse Chocolat had not been exaggerated.
Lunch defeated us. There was no dinner.
Having learned from the previous day, we again skipped breakfast, packed and checked out. We'd agonised about lunch, but the oxtail had been too fine and the service far too agreeable: it was back to Aux Trois Petit Cochons. We were greeted like old friends and the tale of the meal was similar: attentive and agreeable service spiced with a touch of familiarity and, of course, wonderful food. Salade Lyonnais and a lovely sweet onion tart started us off, pig's trotter with olives and the oxtail (again - it was equally superb the second time) provided the main entertainment, and while a little fruit salad plus chestnut gateau absolutely finished us off. One of the finest compliments we can pay is to say that the menu (of which we only took a low-priced option) still has plenty on it that we want to sample, and we will definitely return.

Le quatrieme cochon (the 4th little pig)

With heavy hearts we returned to Pierre who, like the little champ that he is, hauled our replete selves out towards the French alps...and La Croix de la Rochette.