June 25: Time to pass along some bits and pieces from the first ten days of my travels:
I feel very much at home here in France. I came here for the first time almost a half-century ago and thought that France was a poor cousin to Switzerland, where I was attending school. Since then, it’s grown on me to say the least. And while going to a different part of France is hardly a stretch for most travelers, I am quite comfortable with coming back to explore it some more..
Perhaps I am a naïve traveler, or, put differently, I’m lazy. Looking through the Michelin maps for twisty Alsatian roads, I spotted Le Struthof and Mt. Ste. Odile perched together atop a sinuous network of roads west of Strasbourg. They looked like perfect targets for a brisk drive, and held the prospect of fantastic views across the Vosges mountains. What I did not know, but would have found 
out with a bit more effort, was that Mt. Ste. Odile is a monastery. Le Struthof is a former concentration camp where prisoners mined the pink granite so beloved of architects of the Reich, or were subjected to “medical experiments” before being executed. It was jarring to visit both in one morning and be confronted with the pure evil of one, and the loving acceptance of the other. One wonders how they co-existed during the war with such different purpose and yet in such close proximity.
A few days back, my day started with a dash to the bank because the hotel could not accept cards. Despite repeated attempts the Wi Fi would not connect. No big deal, these things happen. The banking issue sorted, I then headed into Alsace, following a route through Heidelberg, Speyer and Landau, thinking that there would be directional signs to each of these large centres. What signs there were, didn’t really help, and I wound up going around the downtown of each several times before getting directions on to the next town. Then the bike started running like shit, stalling at a traffic light and stumbling badly. When I stopped to see what the problem might be I discovered two things: 1. the battery was not connected. (I don’t mean loose, I mean not at all.) why it was running I have no idea… and 2. While reconnecting the battery, the zipper on my jacket touched the exhaust and, being plastic, it melted. So that means the jacket has to be rebuilt with a new zipper…
So today I headed into the Black Forest with no expectations and found a lovely little gasthouse in an historic town on a river with a garage for my bike. I am looking forward to a good meal, and a good night’s sleep with the rush of the river outside my window.