Well really we got champagned in Reims. We took a side trip from Paris to Reims, the capital of champagne and bubbly good living. The arrival was a bit stormy with constant showers and an Airbnb owner who kept pushing out the time of our arrive. Picture us sitting on her doorstep, melting in the constant wet patter, only to get a text saying let's meet in another hour. We went through this 3 times! I was ready to kill Sihame. Just as I was looking for other accommodations on Booking.com under an archway which was next to a monument for the people mistreated by the Gestopo, Nicholas appears. He is her charming boyfriend of 2 months. He took us to a swank bar inside a push hotel for tall glasses for champagne. He offered us coffee but we strongly urged a bubbly upgrade.
The water and dismal spirit ran from us like water from a duck. Nicholas is a hospital HR manager at a teaching hospital. I loved his strong FREEENNNCH accent and his good looks didn't hurt the gals any either. Eventually our timeless host arrived Sihame. Her olive skin, smirky smile, excellent English made us all smile. She is half Moroccan and works for a Cognac and Beer company in their laboratory. She was testing an experimental beer wort cooking method which caused all the delays.
The apartment was clean, roomy, and just what we needed. We went out to a nice restaurant and prepared to wait out the rain. The next morning was magnificent and eventually a bit warm for us Northwesterners. I think Caro thinks we are crazy always crossing the street to stay in the shade and acting like were on a death march at 85 degrees. We just followed Caro long strutting steps to Pommery champagne house for a tour that Sihame arranged. This famous bubble house was run by a woman starting in 1856. This was in an era where that simply was not done. But she ran it well caring for the winery and the employees, making it one of the largest champagne houses in Reims.
Our arranged English tour was rather odd. Our guide was perfectly English, think the butler Carson on Downton Abbey now added a 30% strong French accent. Yup you got it, another tour where we understood maybe 35% of what was said. I dropped into camera mode and tuned into the talk on occasion. When the tour was done we each got two smallish glasses of bubbly. Here is the deal, you can spend $100, $50, $25, but here in Reim's it all tastes good.
The next morning we took off early to take in the farmers market and to walk through the cathedral. In the church we found a free catacomb walk in French in a half an hour. We waited, and waited, and 35 minutes later a nun/guide pops up and tells everyone in French that the tour is in French. She looks at us with her evil, red pinprick, Gargoyles
eyes and asked Gayle if she could speak French. "Yes I understand French" timidly replies Gayle. "Well can you understand rapid French, it is very important in the catacombs", speaks the demon spawn. Gayle buckled, and the she devil, kicked us out of line. I should have gotten her picture but I know it would not have worked, there would only have been emptiness. Oh Van Gogh, I know your troubles friend! (Originally Van Gogh wanted to be a preacher but was kicked out for strange behavior)
Our last day after the market we ran into Sihame and
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| You Can Buy Anything at the Market |
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| Band that Serenaded us at Coffee |
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| Cathedral |
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| Cathedral |
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| Nicholas, Sihame, and Caroline |
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| The Loser but Good Form |
Nicholas in a bar courtyard drinking very expensive champagne. They told us to join them as they were waiting for friends. Oh that cool frothy nectar was nice. We talked and talked and then decided to play boules besides the tables in the courtyard. Gayle lost, Nicholas won, we all won. This was our time in Reims!
The apartment was clean, roomy, and just what we needed. We went out to a nice restaurant and prepared to wait out the rain. The next morning was magnificent and eventually a bit warm for us Northwesterners. I think Caro thinks we are crazy always crossing the street to stay in the shade and acting like were on a death march at 85 degrees. We just followed Caro long strutting steps to Pommery champagne house for a tour that Sihame arranged. This famous bubble house was run by a woman starting in 1856. This was in an era where that simply was not done. But she ran it well caring for the winery and the employees, making it one of the largest champagne houses in Reims.
Our arranged English tour was rather odd. Our guide was perfectly English, think the butler Carson on Downton Abbey now added a 30% strong French accent. Yup you got it, another tour where we understood maybe 35% of what was said. I dropped into camera mode and tuned into the talk on occasion. When the tour was done we each got two smallish glasses of bubbly. Here is the deal, you can spend $100, $50, $25, but here in Reim's it all tastes good. 
The next morning we took off early to take in the farmers market and to walk through the cathedral. In the church we found a free catacomb walk in French in a half an hour. We waited, and waited, and 35 minutes later a nun/guide pops up and tells everyone in French that the tour is in French. She looks at us with her evil, red pinprick, Gargoyles eyes and asked Gayle if she could speak French. "Yes I understand French" timidly replies Gayle. "Well can you understand rapid French, it is very important in the catacombs", speaks the demon spawn. Gayle buckled, and the she devil, kicked us out of line. I should have gotten her picture but I know it would not have worked, there would only have been emptiness. Oh Van Gogh, I know your troubles friend! (Originally Van Gogh wanted to be a preacher but was kicked out for strange behavior)
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