Un, Deux, Troyes et Dijon

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Two weekends ago, I went to Troyes and Dijon with some of my DePaul friends. We took the high speed French train, called the TGV, and had a great time in these two little cities. We left Paris at 7am Friday. We arrived in Troyes at about 8:30am. Nothing opens anywhere in France until about 10am, so we had plenty of time to walk around and get a feel of the city.In Troyes we walked, ate, looked at churches, ate, shopped and ate. We went to outlet malls, which were very similar to their America counterparts. The prices were a little better than what you’d see in Paris, but not much. After considering the value of the dollar, none of us were really compelled to buy anything. I was surprised at the popularity of American brands. Carhartt is apparently very trendy “street-style”. Next time I put on my dad’s old Carhartt jacket to scoop horse poop in the winter, I will think of young hipsters all over France. We finished the malls in record time for a group of nine females. After we were sure we’d seen all Troyes had to offer, we decided to take an earlier train to Dijon.

The train ride to Dijon was so much fun! Before boarding, we went to the Monoprix (sort of like a Super Target with everything from clothes to food) and bought food for a picnic lunch. We decided to wait and eat on the train. We were finally all awake, and the more we ate the more we laughed. The French tend to be very quiet on trains, except for the random people who listen to music using their cell phones and no headphones. I don’t understand, but they all seem to like American rap. Anyways, needless to say we were not very popular with the elderly lady sitting in front of us.

By the time we arrived in Dijon we were hungry again. We explored the city a little and looked for a place to eat. Dijon is larger than Troyes and is home to a university. It seemed like the only people over 40 in the city were tourists. After eating we headed to our hotel. Hilarious. Let me preface this by saying that it was safe and clean. But, it was hilarious. It was called Hotel Bonsai, and we had a reservation. When we got to Dijon we called and asked for directions. We were told which bus to take, to get off at the last stop and ask the bus driver how to get to the hotel. After a 15 minute drive away from the city center, the bus stopped in the parking lot of a shopping center. The driver told us to cross the highway and we would be able to see the hotel. After crossing approximately 5 superstore size parking lots and walking through a small field, we reached the highway. We didn’t see a stoplight, so we figured we have to cross it “Frogger” style. Really, there wasn’t very much traffic. But, we couldn’t see the hotel sign. A couple of us went in different directions to try and see the hotel sign before we crossed the highway. One girl saw a blue sign in the distance and said she was fairly certain that was it. Thank goodness she was right. By this time in the day, I thought my feet were going to fall off from all the walking. As I said before, the hotel was safe and the rooms were clean. I won't try to describe it anymore than to say that I felt like I was at a slumber party at the Brady Bunch house. A picture is worth a thousand words….

The next day we explored Dijon some more. We bought mustard. We tried to rent bikes, but unfortunately they didn’t have nine left in the entire city. And, we went to a winery. Another really nice bus driver dropped us off at the very end of his route. We walked through the vines to reach the “cave” or wine cellar. We got a guided tour, a glass with the name of the winery on it and a wine tasting for 9 Euro. It was fun, but not overly exciting. The tour was half in French and half in English, so I understood approximately 1/4^th of what was said. Our tour guide was young and cute, which some how made the process of making wine so much more interesting to all of us girls. He was getting a degree in wine business (only in France) at the local university.

After we’d seen enough grape vines, we got back on the bus. We sat in the park and ate Greek sandwiches for dinner, and one of my friends received a marriage proposal. By then it was time to leave. My feet were blistered, but my stomach was full and I was ready to return to Paris.