Weeks 6 and 7 – September 2003 – Strasbourg (Alsace)

Strasbourg architecture

Our bike route from Mulhouse to Strasbourg took us along the border with Germany, where we could see the Black Forest in the distance. Mountains bordered us on both sides, but our road could not have been flatter. As a result, we cycled our longest distance thus far – 100 km. (60 mi.). The last twenty kilometers, we followed a tree-lined canal along the Rhine, which took us into the heart of Strasbourg itself.

Three things in particular struck us as we travelled through the Alsace region. The first was that in every town we passed, there was a prominent statue of Jesus on the cross, and oftentimes along the roadside in between the villages as well. The second was the Alsatian-style half-timbered houses, which featured wooden shutters and flowerboxes filled with small red and pink flowers. The third was the green landscape and relatively healthy gardens and cornfields. The drought seems not to have been as severe in this region.

We planned to stay in Strasbourg for only a few days, but because we were waiting for a package to arrive at the post office, our visit was quite extended. We took advantage of the extra time allowed us by seeing the sites and visiting the part of the town that is classified as a World Heritage Site by the UNESCO. This old quarter, mainly centered around the Cathedral and the neighborhood called “La Petite France,” is quite charming. The cobble-stoned streets are filled with pedestrians and bicyclists and the terraces are over-flowing with people enjoying a glass of fresh beer in genuine Alsatian style. We picnicked by the river, watched boats pass through the canals, admired the architecture, and spoiled ourselves on the local baked goods.

We both were very taken with Strasbourg. It is a very pretty city, very pleasing to the eye. From what I have seen, it has been one of the cities that I prefer in France. The city is very young as well. There is a large student population and different centers of interest.

The section called “La Petite France”, once dominated by tanners, is resplendent with its half-timbered houses built during the Renaissance. The quarter has kept its authenticity and its charm. In walking down the streets, you imagined life as it would have been several centuries ago and half-expected a horse and carriage to pass you by. We admired the city from a panoramic terracce found in this old neighborhood.

The Cathedral, one of the great successes of French gothic architecture, was completed in 1439, and at 142 m. (426 ft.), was one of the highest pinnacles in Christendom until the 19th century. Elegant and impressive architecturally, it dominates the center of the town. It is remarkable in the fact that, with only one tower, it was never finished (cathedrals normally have two towers). The Cathedral has been completely restored after the shellings of 1870 and 1944. It has been widely admired as one of the most beautiful testaments to God. Goethe spoke of the Cathedral as “thrusting up a huge wall to heaven, like the most sublime, wide-spreading tree of God, proclaiming the glory of the Lord…”.

There is an immense 48 ft.-high, 21 ft.-long astronomical clock at the front of the church which was finished in 1570. In terms of painting and sculpture, it contains features from both the Gothic and Renassaince epochs. There is a showing every day at noon, when the clock sounds and sets a series of actions in motion. The four different stages of life are depicted as an infant, a teenager, an adult, and an old person are seen passing before Death. The seven different stories of the clock indicate the month and year, the Grenwich Meridian Time and the time by the sun, while the twelve apostles march before Christ, angels revolve over hourglasses, and a cock crows.

We attended an organ concert in the cathedral on Sunday afternoon. I had heard my friend Klaus play the pipe organ in a smallish church near his hometown in Bavaria a couple of years ago and was very impressed with the instrument and with its mechanics. And I had heard an organ concert in England a few years ago, but I wanted to hear it in a large cathedral. The ambiance, and especially the ecoustics, change. The pipe organ in the Strasbourg Cathedral still contains the original organ loft from 1385 and the organ chest from 1489. The concert was 45-min. long, but was interspersed with readings from the bible and the priest giving a sermon. The ecoustics of the church were impressive, but I wouldn’t want to make a huge cathedral like that my home church. It’s too impersonal with the priest miles away, up front reading from the pulpit through a microphone. And for those who are a little near-sighted – well, you just wouldn’t see the priest at all. And surely he wouldn’t see you.

In addition to its historical interest, Strasbourg is also an important artistic and intellectual center. It is the capital of Alsace both economically and culturally. Since becoming the seat of the Council of Europe in 1949, Strasbourg has become the symbol of European unity and construction. It was because of its location in Alsace and along the Rhine River between France and Germany (an area that was contested between France and Germany for several centuries) that it was chosen to become the symbol of unity. Strasbourg continues to affirm its importance politically in Europe, housing numerous European headquarters, the most prominent of which are the European Parliament and the International Human Rights Institute.

coypu in Strasbourg

Our stay at the campsite in the center of Strasbourg deserves a special mention because of the company of our neighbors. Our first night was filled with – how shall we say? – excitement, when a dozen or so big furry creatures, rather like large rats, came out of the canal next to our tent and started foraging for food. We were sitting on the ground eating our meal when one especially fearless creature approached me looking for food. I tried to chase it away, and it didn’t even budge! In fact, the opposite happened. It came right next to me, and thinking I was going to feed it, stood up on its hind legs and put its webbed claws out, begging like a dog. The scariest part of all was its bright fluorescent orange teeth! Bright orange – I’ve never seen anything like it! Several started crowding around our blanket, and being more alarmed than they were, I made Stéphane chase them away. Which was no easy task. He ran at them and made a lot of noise, and they back-tracked two or three steps, only to come back 30 seconds later. As our neighbors told us, they are harmless – they don’t attack humans – they just look for food. By their behavior, we figured that they are used to being fed at the campsite. An assumption which was proved correct the next day when people came all day long to feed them bread and to photograph them.

At the end of the evening, we were sitting in our tent looking out towards the canal when we heard a terrible crashing sound. Something must have frightened them because two of the big ones (the parents) ran from the field towards the canal and plunged into the water. They are virtually blind. They crashed right into our bikes, which were about 3 feet from the tent. We were practically close enough to touch them. It happened so quickly that we didn’t have time to be frightened, but the parents – boy, those are some big animals!

For days, it has been bothering me that I didn’t know the name of these big hairy rats. I looked up the translation in a French-English dictionary on-line, and the translation I came up with was “raccoon,” which I know is not correct. So I went to the library and looked it up, and the translation from their comprehensive French-English dictionary was “coypu.” Have you ever heard of a coypu? I didn’t think so. I certainly never had. I thought maybe the translation was incorrect, as we’ve found that many language translations in dictionaries are apt to be. But actually, when I spoke to Kevin about it later in the day, he knew all about them and even found info. on the Net while we talked. Apparently they are originally from Chile or Argentina and live in families of about 15. When Matt, our campground neighbor from New Zealand, returned that night, I told him about it. He, too, had been asking around for the name of our furry friends. He had found a couple of Welsh guys who told him that they were called coypus and that they were brought to Europe to breed for their fur.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Kevin came up with a name for them, which I thought was perfect. R.O.U.S.’s. “Rhodents of Unusual Size”. From “Princess Bride.” I love it.

When we came back that night and were cooking by the tent, the R.O.U.S.’s came over to inspect. I don’t like them to approach too closely when I’m eating. And I mean, they were really crowding around. We counted 18 of them in all. It’s their orange teeth that really get me. When I first asked Stéphane to chase them, he said, “It’s okay.” But I said, “No, if I say it’s not okay, it’s not okay.” So he ran after them and yelled and even threw an empty water bottle at them. It’s amaying how they don’t move! The closest one just stood there looking at us for awhile and then slowly walked away. Matt has a theory: the big ones are more afraid than the the younger ones because the younger ones that are unafraid get eaten, and only the ones that have sense enough to be a little bit afraid make it to adulthood. Nice theory!

It’s the most incredible thing to me how parents can give food to their children and tell them to feed the “cute furry animals.” The cute furry animals which they know nothing about. No matter how furry or how cute the animals are, they are still wild. And they can behave unpredictably. Take, for example, the woman who, the other day, gave food to her 2-year old child and told him, “Go ahead. Get closer. And be careful not to scare the animals.” We told her to be careful because the R.O.U.S’s could bit. She then asked if we knew what the animals were because she had never seen them before.

The child held out his hand and the coypu stood up to grab the food. On his hind legs, the coypu was as tall as the child. The child backed up, still holding the food. He started to scream. I can imagine he was frightened. The thing was as big as he was. The mother didn’t react. The coypu ran towards the boy, trying to grab the food. The boy screamed again, and still his mother didn’t budge. Not an inch. She made absolutely no move to help her child, who was obviously terrified. Just sat there and watched, without saying anything. Unbelievable.

Even some of the adults are frightened. We’re obviously more frightened of them than they are of us. Whenever a person and a R.O.U.S. approach each other, the person is almost invariably the first to back away. I had to laugh when, yesterday, an old man approached a coypu to feed it and the animal started running towards him. They can run pretty fast when they think they might get food. The man backed away quickly, made little startled noises of fright, and then ran with his wife all the way back across the campground to their camping-car.

Strasbourg, lovely city

On one of our last nights in Strasbourg, we were biking home from the city center when I came to a stop at a red light. As I stood there waiting for the light to change, a car in the opposite lane of opposing traffic did a U-turn at light speed and, it seemed to me, practically ran over the three pedestrians that were in the crosswalk. The car screeched to a halt next to the three men, and I was thinking that the driver must be either crazy or drunk. A safety hazard in either case. My heart skipped a beat as I thought for an instant that the car really was going to run over one of the men. Turns out, the car was an unmarked police car and they were making an arrest right there on the street. Grabbed one guy, shoved him against the car and did a pat down before cuffing him and pushing him into the backseat of the car. So much for the drunk driver theory.

As we returned home, we met up with Corrine and Laetitia, two girls in the tent next to ours, as we had taken the habit of doing during the previous few nights. Turns out they’d had an eventful day. Had been kicked out, rather rudely, by the campground management because they are from Strasbourg, and apparently Strasbourg residents are not allowed to stay for an extended time at the campground. I suppose it was designed to keep homeless people from squatting there. Anyway, Corrine had gotten into a big fight with the campground manager and was told to pack up and leave by the next day, and she was hot under the collar. That evening, right after we had gone to bed, they started to make a small campfire (burn a few twigs, rather), sort of as a protest. From inside our tent, we heard a woman come running over, screaming at the top of her lungs about a fire and about how Corrine was trying to kill everyone. We poked our heads outside the tent and could see small sparks of fire on the end of a branch, which the girls immediately extinguished. The woman continued to scream in barely intelligible English: “You crazy! Fire! Fire!” Then she ran back to her camping-car and got out articles of the recent forest fires in France, which she had actually cut out and saved, and came back with the articles, shoving them in Corrine’s face. Corrine, upset about the day’s events and a little lit at this point, screamed right back at her. They followed each other back and forth across the campground, from camping-car to tent and back again, one yelling in drunken broken English and the other screaming in French. They were threatening to call the police and I honestly thought the whole thing might end in a drunken boxing-match, but they eventually wore themselves out.

What a city. What an evening…