By this Author: NKammerer

Our respective sojourns in France have come to their bittersweet ends; whether the journey has been a whirlwind of ten or sixteen days, or an extended stay totaling a whopping 281 days, we are all tired, stuffed, a little sunburned, and not quite ready to come back home yet.

The four of us arrived in Tours (pronounced “Tour” – without the “s”) at about noon on Wednesday, June 3. We hadn’t had time to grab breakfast before our train, and there were no food offerings on our five-hour commute, so we were all a bit hangry by the time we got into town.

Unfortunately our trek had not quite ended – we still had an epic walk through town to reach our apartment. (In hindsight, we should have taken the tram, but we didn’t realize at the time just how close it ran by our apartment.) Instead, picture this – Mom and Eva each carrying their own luggage for the week, plus one of my bags; me laden with more of my own acquisitions; and Dad bringing up the rear (at varying distances, depending on traffic) pushing my 100-pound overseas suitcase.

After a delightful meeting with our landlord, it was easy to settle into our lovely little two-bedroom apartment, located in the heart of the old city centre, a block from the Place Plumereau.

By this time, Eva’s hanger was reaching two-year-old meltdown stage, so we stopped off at the first boulangerie we saw. (It had been quite easy to convert everyone to the baguette sandwich lunch club – the infinite combinations of cheeses and crunchy breads fit everyone’s liking, and Eva loves the concept of adding butter to a sandwich that is already mostly cheese….)

Our landlord had recommended that we visit Les Halles, a cool indoor market that offers a variety of regional and traditional meats, cheeses, chocolates, and other artisan foods. We took the opportunity to stock up on some groceries, as we were all looking forward to a home-cooked meal and a quiet evening in the apartment. Eva and I put together a ratatouille-inspired veggie bake, and we sampled a few of the chèvre varieties that are produced in the Tours area.

The next morning, we were ready to do a bit more in-depth exploring of Tours. We hit the Cathédrale Saint-Gatien, which was much more impressive than any church Mom and Dad got to see in Besançon. So we spent about two hours there. To be fair, though, it is considered one of the finest cathedrals in the Loire Valley. The light-colored stone, combined with a stunning variety and multitude of windows created an enchanting space, replete with a full ambulatory and five radiating chapels.

Our next stop was the Musée de Campagnonnage, which was something new for all of us. It traced the roots of the trade union movement in France, with exhibitions dedicated to each specialized craft, from ferriers, to woodworkers, to masons, to pâtissiers. A little something for everybody! In fact, it was so interesting that both Mom and Dad managed to lean in close enough to an exhibit to smack their faces on the glass.

On Friday, we began our quest to explore the Loire Valley. We bought train tickets for the hamlet of Chenonceaux (pop. 325) and set off to explore one of the most iconic of the Loire Valley châteaux. We also discovered, not surprisingly, that it has a rich history to go along with its picturesque gardens (which provided incredible bouquets throughout the castle) and overall architectural beauty. The rooms were elaborately painted floor to ceiling, with many rooms sporting gigantic tapestries, but we found we preferred the kitchen chambers with their plain walls, garlands of garlic and herbs, and plethora of copper pots. We were also fascinated to learn that the grand gallery (the long room that spans the river) served as a military hospital during WWI and as an escape route from the banks of occupied into unoccupied France during WWII. (There was also a little war hospital museum in one of the outbuildings, and we were all slightly disturbed to find that Ben wasn’t in Munich after all – he was chilling at Chenonceau, playing the role of a surgeon-mannequin!)

The next day was another train ticket, this time to the city of Blois (“Blwah”) (pop. 45,000), whose château spanned eight centuries and four kings. We were pleased to find this city a bit less of a tourist destination than Chenonceau. In the morning, we had the château’s lovely garden to ourselves, which of course led to a Kammerer-style photoshoot.

While the château was definitely a highlight of the visit, we were also pleasantly surprised to happen upon a bustling street market where we spent a couple of hours perusing and shopping, then grabbing baguette sandwiches (of course) before château-ing. This town was really cool, because the medieval roots were still evident. The château was up above the town on a rocky outcropping, and the old village was a thriving collection of old timber-framed buildings, cobblestone alleys, and modern shops and businesses.

Then the pièce de résistance of our Loire Valley explorations came yesterday, with a 21 km bike ride along the Cher River to the village and château of Villandry (pop. 1000) and the most spectacular array of gardens to accompany any château in France. We picnicked in a nearby park, and then headed off to the house. It was interesting to learn that it is still privately owned by the family that purchased and restored the property at the turn of the 20th century. The house was incredibly grand and the most interesting from an interior design point of view. (The others were more museum-y, with a lot less furniture, but this one had a very lived-in feeling.)

However, the gardens are the real attraction. Mom got a dangerous amount of “garden ideas” and quickly burned Eva and me out with an intense desire to get “a pretty photo of my girls” in front of every single rosebush.

But then it was all good when, at the end of our visit, we stopped at an ice cream stand featuring an intriguing selection of very summery flavors. We ended up trying hibiscus, coconut, apricot, strawberry-thyme, raspberry-bergamot, and mint-nettle!

After a relaxing ride back into Tours, we all freshened up and headed out for a last night on the town in France. (We had popped into a gourmet kitchen store in our neighborhood a few days before, and were warmly greeted by an extravagant Frenchman in caution-tape yellow pants who was very excited to use his – very good – English skills with a patron. It turned out that he was practically a long-lost relative. He took Dad down to the basement to show him the foundations of the 10th century church that he had found while renovating. Then he took us all across the street to show us his house! It was a beautiful – and huge – renovated structure that dated to the 1500s, complete with a small courtyard, a walk-in fireplace, and antique frescoes. But anywho…he had also recommended a restaurant down the street that we just had to try.)

This was our quintessential French dining experience. Unfortunately, by this time we were all too tired to remember to grab cameras – or even cell phones – before leaving the apartment. So you will never see the beauty that was our dinner – and dessert. We started with an appetizer that was a tower of thinly sliced beets layered with herbed chèvre, and then followed it up with boeuf tartare, lamb steak, cod with kumquat confiture, and the classiest steamed veggies and rice you’ll ever see in your life. We finished it off with chocolate-ginger cake, mint ice cream rolled in cocoa, chocolate mousse, and mint-infused panna cotta. We figured that our 42 km bike ride kind of balanced it all out….

Today, our last full day in France, was spent shopping for souvenirs, taking it easy, and trying to figure how to pack everything back up to bring home. (Not looking forward to the rush-hour tram ride with four people and ten bags….)

This will be the last post on my Besançon 2014-2015 blog. Thank you to everyone who has followed along on this journey. I have really enjoyed sharing my adventures with you and creating this log of memories for the future. As someone who has made multiple failed attempts at journaling, I am very glad to have had the opportunity to put down my thoughts, experiences, and anecdotes in a manner that could interest more people than just my future self. As eventful and exciting as my far-off travels have been, I can’t tell you how much I have loved putting aside a few hours of every week to share stories with you all, and every one of your comments and emails has given me a warm fuzzy. As cliché as it may sound, this blog has served at least half of its purpose well, if only as a way for me to still feel connected to home over the past nine months.

Thank you again, and I cannot wait to see you all so, so soon!

Take four adults, two of whom who have never left the country, add a little Dramamine, two flights, a train ride, and… eleven hours later they will pop out of the ground in Paris. Beautiful, crowded, exotic Paris, with no time to gawk. After a sweet encounter with a friendly street vendor (Lisa’s French still works!), there were baguette sandwiches in the shadow of Notre Dame, then some resourceful navigating to the Gare de Lyon to catch the train to Besançon—and to Natalie and Eva.

The Kammerer Family was finally reunited for the first time in nine months on the evening of Saturday, May 30. Best birthday present ever! There were many hugs to go around, and Mom’s eyes stayed remarkably dry, if not a bit glisteny. But there wasn’t much time to dawdle about at the station – we had to hop on the tram to shuttle our baggage to the hotel and get ready for dinner. For my birthday/welcome celebration, I had requested to go to a fun little restaurant called Le Café Café, and to invite my friends Claudia and Gabrielle along to meet everybody.

Not only was our dinner a lovely entrée to French restaurant culture for the new arrivals, it was also a wonderful opportunity to exchange cultures – French, American, South Korean, and Taiwanese! I think it’s safe to say that we all had a fantastic time (luckily both girls speak very good English as well). At the end of the night, it was hard enough for the others to say goodbye, but I almost lost it – it was the last time I will see them for the foreseeable future. Time to start planning the next international trip….

Sunday, as per usual, was a pretty chill day in Besançon. Most stores were closed, which gave everybody a chance to just wander around and try to get their bearings. We took the opportunity to run to the grocery store to build ourselves a little picnic, anticipating a peaceful afternoon in the park. We walked along the river path, and just as we rounded the bend, we were met by a mob of runners preparing for a color run that was going to start soon. But we did manage to find a quiet patch of grass out of the splash zone, where we set up camp. So we were able to spend the next hour or so gnawing on baguettes and comté and watching people run by covered in green dye.

All in all, Sunday turned out to be less that quiet; the remainder of the day was spent in traversing downtown, pointing out my various class buildings, favorite cafés, and other little landmarks of my life in Besançon. I wanted to take everyone to get crêpes from the grumpy man in the gazebo at the Place Granvelle, and when we arrived at the Place, we were met yet again by an unexpected crowd. Apparently, there was a big art fair taking place, with spectacular pottery from all over the country. Unfortunately, world travelers with limited luggage space are probably the least likely to impulse-buy ceramics, but we enjoyed walking around and appreciating it!

On Monday, Ben and Chelsea split off from the group to head to Munich to continue their international adventures in a country that eats a lot less cheese. Following their departure, we spent the remainder of the day shopping and wandering around taking pictures of everything. Mom was especially enchanted by the centre-ville, with its old buildings, grand places, and smooth granite sidewalks. And Dad followed about 15 feet behind us, taking pictures of all of the doorways once he discovered that they often opened up onto charming little courtyards.

For dinner, we settled onto a cozy restaurant terrace in the shade of one of the churches. Eva, true to form, ordered the cheesiest possible menu item, while Mom and Dad opted for the exotic salmon ravioli. I was in panic mode. Since it was my last day to eat tartiflette, I just stuck with this tried and true favorite.

Tuesday was our touristy day – the churches were open, so we went into as many as possible! Cavernous, gray, and spectacularly ancient, it will come as no surprise to many of you that our family was able to spend the better part of the morning hanging out in these awesome structures.

But the afternoon had been reserved – much to Eva’s chagrin – for the nine hour climb up to the citadel/museum/zoo. We left Dad down on the ground with the sheep and wallabies, while the rest of us climbed up onto one of the ramparts to take in the view of the valley.

But the main draw to the citadel was the Museum of the Resistance and Deportation, which Mom really wanted to see. It’s a good thing that all of the captions were in French – otherwise, we would have been there for two days! Everyone was impressed with the breadth of artifacts and the amazing stories of courage and sacrifice.

Luckily for Eva, though, we were on a tight schedule. We had to get back downtown for our last dinner date, this time with my Besançon Buddy, Théo. To go out with a bang, we had decided on a restaurant specializing in regional cuisine. The outdoor seating for this tiny, charming café consisted of only a handful of tables, all served by the friendliest and most engaging server, who turned out to also be the owner. Everyone was impressed by the wonderful food that I have been eating these past months, and I experienced a moment of deep sadness as I ate my last bites of oven-baked potatoes smothered in Morbier.

Dinner lasted about four hours, while Mom grilled Théo over a number of sujects, ranging from handball to WWII to his pet rats. He pleasantly obliged, hopefully enjoying the opportunity to practice a bit of English. Théo was the last of my Besançon friends to whom I had to say goodbye. Though we hadn’t had a whole lot of time to hang out over the course of the year, I am so grateful for all of his help!

And of course, we had to wake up at 4:30 this morning to catch our train to Tours. It’s probably a good thing that I was only half awake when we left, because I was really not ready to leave for good.

We are now enjoying Tours, and looking forward to a week worth of adventures that will be posted in due time!

For the past five summers, Eva has helped move her siblings home from college. A few thousand miles and an ocean wasn’t going to keep her from doing the same this year, so she packed a duffel bag and hopped on a doubledecker transatlantic flight to Paris.

After a brisk walk to the Besançon train station at 5 am and a smooth ride into Paris, Natalie made it out to Charles de Gaulle airport to meet Eva’s plane. Unfortunately the horde of taxi drivers waiting for their clients prevented the cinematic running hug that the situation warranted.

But by this time, it was early afternoon, and we headed towards the center of the city to grab some lunch. I was excited to share some of the things that I had discovered in Paris on previous trips, so we grabbed some sandwiches and walked over to the Jardin des Tuileries for a little picnic and our first French photoshoot. (Eva’s three-cheese panini (brie, chèvre, and Roquefort) has opened her eyes to the limitless possibilities beyond cheddar and swiss…)

Next, we headed to the Musée d’Orsay, where Eva discovered that not all museums are soul-sucking dungeons of boredom. If you have the perfect blend of art nouveau décor, historical miniatures, and medieval leapfrog, it can actually be quite a pleasant experience!

Eva’s travel tummy was not too keen on a fancy French dinner that would almost certainly contain meat, so we opted for the pizza parlor down the street from our hostel. But this was alright, because I wanted to introduce her to the egg pizza that I feel in love with on my first Paris trip. So we decided on two fairly typical French pizza variations – one was salmon, egg, crème fraiche, and basil, and the other had a crème fraiche base topped with chèvre, honey, walnuts, and oregano. Though she didn’t quite chew the salmon, she thoroughly enjoyed the concept of an eggy pizza.

The next morning, we made our way over to the Père Lachaise cemetery, which I had visited briefly on my first trip, and had really wanted to explore more thoroughly. Luckily, Eva is also a sucker for creepy history. Though we still weren’t able to find too many of the famous graves that we were looking for (Camille Pissarro, Oscar Wilde, Jim Morrison, etc.), we did find some less-famous people who happened to have had impeccable taste in grave markers.

Neither of us really wanted to spend much time in a super touristy city, so we headed back to Besançon in the afternoon. It turned out that my tiny, 9m2 dorm – which was just barely big enough for me – fits two just perfectly!! It’s a good thing that we are practically the same person, because I only have a twin bed, one chair, one bowl, one mug, and it is essential to have the bathroom door closed in order to open the fridge. The bonus luxury of being short on real furniture was the fact that Eva got to have breakfast in bed every morning! Baguette crumbs everywhere…

The first couple of days in Besançon were spent just getting used to the city – wandering around downtown, picnicking, shopping, and eating some deliciously cheesy baked potatoes.

So far, traveling through France with Eva has been like being in charge of a toddler who is a whole head taller than you – in restaurants, I get to read her the menu and order her food; in the street, I have to explain what all of the signs mean; and when I had to take an 8-hour test on Friday, I just made sure she had enough food in my room and left her sleeping with my stuffed bunny.

Her childlike reputation stayed intact through the tasting of dried figs. I discovered them a few months ago and have not been able to get enough of them. So, naturally, I was really excited to share in the bounty. We walked way out of our way to the co-op to get a bag. Like a parent, proud of the milestones in their child’s life, I decided to photo-document the moment…

Eva also got the chance to meet my wonderful friend Noémie. I bequeathed to her my trusty toaster oven, which had served me so well over the past nine months. We went over to drop it off at her apartment, and stayed for a very fun dinner, made even more entertaining by the fact that I had to serve as the translator for the whole night. Even though conversation was a bit complicated and there were a couple of misunderstandings, it was a lovely evening. She was the first of my friends I had to say goodbye to, which was really quite hard. Now I just have to figure out how to get to Madagascar…

Our carefree traipsing came the happiest of all possible ends on Saturday evening, when we went to the train station to meet up with Mom, Dad, Ben and Chelsea!

Stay tuned for the next installment of The Kammerer Family takes Besancon 2015!

This is going to be my final solo post from The Adfrenchures: 2014-2015!

I managed to score one of those super-cheap buttcrack of dawn tickets to Paris for Sunday morning (so cheap because it is early enough that there are no buses and you have to get up even earlier to give yourself time to walk the mile and a half to the station). But that’s alright, because I get to meet Eva’s plane on the other side! We’ve already planned a few Parisian adventures, but neither of us wants to spend too much time there. So we’ll come back to Besançon for picnics in the parks, crêpes from the grumpy street vendor, and probably more pastries and cheese in one week than what I have eaten in nine months…

And speaking of delicious things, as I write this, I am finally savoring a stack of successful pancakes. It’s been a while!

I have also started the pre-packing process. I have acquired quite the collection of stuff over the last nine months (mostly books and clothes), and am figuring out the best way to get as much of it as I can back home. Luckily, I foresaw this, and only packed my gigantic suitcase about two thirds full when I came…

These past few weeks have been a lot like the first few that I had here – lots of hanging out with friends and social activities. Unfortunately, most of the others are still taking exams – I was extremely lucky to finish when I did. But many of my afternoons and evenings right now are dedicated to spending time with friends whether it be a picnic in a park, chillin’ at a bar after a movie, or carrying a dead lady’s bedframe up (and back down) six flights of stairs. True story. But no, we didn’t kill her…

And I’m still a bit of a tourist! The other day, I went with Bethany, my friend from Peoria (that trip seems like nothing now compared with all of the crazy things I’ve done) to the house where Victor Hugo was born. I’d passed by it numerous times, but had never gotten the chance to go in. As seems to be the case with a lot of famous birthplaces, he lived in Besançon for less than a year after his birth, and I don’t think he ever returned. But the house is still standing in the city center, and there is a museum inside dedicated to his social justice work. I hadn’t been aware before, but much of his work was inspired by his passion for human rights and political causes. And now I have a lot more books to add to my “to-read” list…

I think I can say now that I consider Besançon as a secondary hometown. Having never spend this much time uninterrupted in a city other than Omaha, I now have a real sense of familiarity and comfort here that I hadn’t anticipated. The atmosphere here is so nice, and it just feels very Omaha-y in many ways. Except for the fact that half of the buildings here were built before Omaha was even a city… So Besançon is like Omaha’s hip and worldly babysitter. Or something like that. And by now, so much of it is so familiar that I am really going to miss it.

Something cool that has started happening fairly regularly is that people will stop me while I’m running to ask for directions. About half of the time, I either have no idea what they are looking for or I give them instructions that were probably impossible to follow (good thing I could just run away in the other direction…). But I think it would be safe to say that half of the time, I do give them legitimate help. Nine months ago, I would probably have pretended to not see them waving me down, and just kept running…

A recent project has been to work on a Skype interview that Mom is going to do with her WWII/Holocaust class, featuring Théo. (It’s been a while since you’ve heard about him, hasn’t it? He’s still around, just way busier than me.) But Mom is going to interview him about the French Resistance in this region. His great-grandfather and grandfather were both involved to varying degrees, and there are some interesting stories that have been passed down in his family. I was doing some research for images to show, and came across a wealth of photos of Besançon during the war (the occupation, a British bombardment, liberation, etc.). It’s hard to look at any pictures of war (and none of these were even graphic) but the fact that all of this happened in a place that I know and not just some faraway city made them very real. The crazy part was that many of the photos were recognizable.

These photos of the liberation were taken on one of downtown’s main streets that I walk on almost every day:

September 8, 1944 and May 12, 2015
(See the Baud chocolatier on the left side of the 1944 picture? It's the same as the white awning in the 2015 one. They've been on the same corner for 92 years.)

September 8, 1944 and May 12, 2015
(I tried to frame the photo with the fountain in the background similarly to the original, but discovered that it wasn’t possible. The new tramway runs through where it should be. So they must have moved the fountain quite recently.)

And this bridge was rebuilt, and today, just to the left, sits the CLA, where I took classes last semester.

Right now, I have the pleasure of being finished with classes and having time to myself to do whatever I want to! This means lots of reading, coffee drinking, and hanging out with friends who have come back from their travels over the break. And the past week and half have gone by entirely too quickly. Unfortunately, it is starting to get to the point where I wonder if I’m doing/eating something for the last time.

But I’m trying not to dwell on my too-quickly approaching departure (I will leave Besançon on June 2nd). This week, I was able to spend some time with my new friend Noémie (who I met during the inter-generational weekend trip). The Gare de l’Eau park is where all the cool kids go to hang out, so – obviously – that’s where we went!

Then we had an impromptu little sleepover at her apartment and I made her pancakes! They turned out kind of weird…I’m not really sure what went wrong, but I think it may have been a deadly combination of not quite enough baking powder (they weren’t particularly fluffy), a crappy pan, and my inability to not burn everything with an electric stove… But they were my first pancakes in 8 ½ months, so I’m not complaining. As deeply immersed as I have been in food bliss for so long, there is a growing list of things that I cannot wait to eat again: correctly made pancakes, homemade pizza, anything Mexican, Grateful Bread, Reese’s peanut butter cups, Ted and Wally’s, and a bunch of other things.

Now, if only I could buy a lifetime supply of cheese here, ship it home, and not die of some horrible foodborne illness, I would be absolutely ecstatic. Now that my cheese horizons have expanded beyond retraction, I fear that life in the US will never be quite the same.

Last week, I was also invited to the home of a woman that I met through the CLA. She is interested in the US, and wanted to have a cultural exchange, so I went over for tea and a chat. She also taught me how to make crêpes! And I made a new best friend – her four-year-old daughter was mesmerized by my long hair (it has gotten really long since I’ve been here). She would just stand behind me on the couch and play with it. And with her adorable lispy little kid French (I don’t know what it is, but little kids speaking French is one of the cutest things ever…) she informed he mother that I was pretty much Elsa from Frozen. (Also, to add on another layer of cute, she can’t quite handle the phonetic nuances of the name “Natalie” so she just calls me Nanana…)

And, as the weather is now gorgeous here, ESN organized a historic hike yesterday to the Fort de Chaudanne. It’s on top of the giant, heavily wooded hill on the right side of all of the pictures of the citadel. Until yesterday, every time I would sit at the Gare de l’Eau, I would wonder what was over there. Now I know – a 19th century military fort! There is a great view of the city from the hill, which I was able to get some pictures of, but my camera died by the time we got to the fort. So here is a Wikipicture (just of the fort; I took the others)…

After we had seen the fort, we still had a bit of time, so we hiked about 15 minutes further into the woods to check out the fort's gunpowder magazine. It was just a hole in the side of the hill; some people had come prepared with flashlights, so we just wandered right in. It went on for about 20 feet, then there was the storage room off to the left. It was really cool - a paved floor, stone walls, and a vaulted brick ceiling. Then our charismatic tour guide made a remark about how great the acoustics were, and then just started singing 30's and 40's era French folk songs. It was a bit uncomfortable, but mostly amusing. Three whole songs later, he stopped and said, "Ok, everybody against the wall, and turn off the flashlights!!" About half of them went off, but the rest stayed on because - not gonna lie - it was DARK in there. But that was not good enough. He was insistent that they all be turned off. I figured that it was just to have a moment of darkness to appreciate the cave, which was freaky enough. But his idea was to have us all try to find our way across the room (whose floor was littered with broken bottles) and down the long hallway in complete and utter darkness. It didn't go very well.

But fortunately, the fast approach of end of the month is not all sad – I just bought my train ticket to go to Paris in two weeks to pick Eva up! So yes, prepare yourselves for Part II of the Kammerer Sisters’ European gallivanting, this time around France. And then a week later (on my birthday – the best present ever!) Mom, Dad, Ben, and Chelsea will all come to meet us in Besançon! So I am also keeping very busy filling the role of travel agent and making lists of all of the cool things that I have to show everybody!