EuropaPark

Took advantage of Monday's Pentecost holiday and drove 2.5 hrs to EuropaPark - Europe's answer to Disneyland - just past the Swiss border into Germany...and rode...

The Silver Star, Europe's highest rollercoaster & sponsored by Mercedes Benz, whose cars were formerly all silver colored, thus named. Michael loved it, of course - losing his voice. A mild-mannered Brit from church actually designed the ride.

 The themes are cultural history - educational components arranged around European countries - rather than fantasy-based. A theme park about cultures situated within the very cultures themselves, bringing Europe to Europeans in a way that reminded of California Adventure.

Beautiful landscaping, attention to detail.

But inventive, as well, creating many different kinds of spaces for different ages (picnic areas, parks, jungle gyms, food everywhere).

 

The Leonardo da Vinci ride showcased his inventions,

such as his idea for helicopter transport.

 Constant shows with a mouse mascot - hat tip to Disney.Even a
Western fantasy and Dixieland band at the entrance.

***

Chicken or the egg?

Europe is also a Disney fantasy - medieval castle, manicured public gardens - but as EuropaPark definitely gets design cues from Anaheim, I began to witness a circular logic whose origin eluded me.Anyway, since this park is on the continent, the food was exact - not like having Italian food in Little Italy; more like, somehow, parts of Italy - not that far - was shipped in.

**

But mainly people come for the rides - "hypercoasters" like the Silver Star or the Atlantis:

Making our way up.

a 90 degree turn,

Then drop.

The lines are cleverly designed to always be changing in vantage point, so it never visually appears unbearable. Many Americans remark, "EuropaPark is like Disneyland, but better." Sounds sacriligeous, but we kind of agreed, although hard to pin down exactly why?
 
FYI, much more cigarette smoking than in Switzerland or France, which seem to be steering towards smoke-free public spaces.

 I was annoyed at the constant cutting in line - entire families - as Europeans took advantage of other Europeans' self-contained posture, where an American might object- perhaps the most European aspect of EuropaPark.

Beaune 2012

We went back to Beaune during Ascension Day weekend, about 2.5 hours away, visiting the cellars of Chateau de Pommard for a wine tasting.

The old press.

The newly redone residence. The gorgeous scenery.

Our guide, Eric, explained about the ancient dirt giving these old, pinot noir roots a concentrated bouquet, for which the wines of Pommard village and chateau are famous. It is easy to wax poetic, "going Biblical" with grapes turning into wine metaphor: beautiful drink resulting from pruning above and determined digging below of rootsfirmly grounded in soil. 



Hard to fathom the 31 miles of cellar (caveau) beneath the city of Beaune alone.

Hard to resist ordering delicious entrecote (rib steak) of charolaise cattle.Jack got in on a little wine action.

 I was startled to learn that one of the Pommard estate owners was Jean Laplanche, famous psychoanalyst whose famous encyclopedia I studied in the heady days of postmodern theory while at Cornell.

The chateau had an art gallery of 20th century modern classics: Warhol, Picasso, Leichenstein and Miro, which Michael studied at school this year.

***

Beaune is pretty much food & wine, extending into nearby Dijon, where we "trained" in for a cooking class. First coffee & croissant at Comptoir des Colonies, a funky spot near the market featuring blends from the famous Parisian tearoom, Mariage Freres.

But we were for

and some down time before hitting...

the Dijon market

This beauty was designed by Gustav Eiffel and houses the Dijon food market, the outside stalls sell non-food.

This seller has the only hydraulic cheese slicer!

Our tour guide and chef was Alex Miles, an American who arrived in 1979, working his way up the master chef ladder and achieving a rare status as accepted foreigner.

 Alex explains the stages of cheese one can buy, as the whey separates. A well-informed and connected Frenchman now, Alex is an academic of sorts, lecturing at NYU and corporate circles on the sociology of food. In a space of an hour, he introduced us to a dozen of the best vendors - grow, raise, slaughter all their own vegetables, fowl, etc. as well as a Michelin restaurant inspector.

  Checkout wild forest asparagus, which appeared in our

vege starter: homemade pastry dough with celery root, carrot, green bean, mushroom and LOTS of butter.

Japanese sense of aesthetic refinement and perfection nicely dovetails with the goals of French cuisine. These delights below are from a new pastry chef and his Japanese wife. Those are viles of RUM.

Emperor Hirohito flew in French chefs for receptions at the 1964 Tokyo Olympics, which introduced France to the aesthetic style and natural flavors of Japanese cuisine, later fusing into the popular nouvelle cuisine of the 1980s which we benefit from today, emphasizing presentation and forever remembering not to overcook the vegetables.
Alex with friend Gilliam, a wry Air France pilot, whose 17th century old town apartment provided the setting.

Michael seemed to enjoy handling the rabbit's organs(!), as well as prep work. Jack and Beth look on.

LOVE THIS LACANCHE STOVE!

My object of desire:

Alex got fancy with cream puff dough, spelling SUGI.

Gilliam's family and arty decor. Wine glass chandelier.

The plant watering can/water vase

Alex gave us a far more engaged session, culturally speaking, but we would've preferred a more hands-on event.

After a full meal, we made our way through Dijon's square

walking past a wedding. Paris divorce rate: 1:2, Dijon 1:3.

The boys were captivated by this turn-of-the-century carousel, honoring the Eiffel Tower with a transportation theme.

The Eiffel Tower & steam-powered ships were successfully transformed into industrial icons, romanticized the way we experience America's grand old cinema venues or locomotives or tall ships; the powerful charm of Parisian culture lies here, too, I think - markedly different than the medieval lure of most European town centers. And different than Tacoma's old smelter, a behemoth that never transitioned into a living museum piece. Neither old or contemporary; their inventiveness marks permanent transition. A peculiar nostalgia that moves in two directions at once - the way film reels advance, as they replay, history - a cogent metaphor of modernity.