April 6
The sun was setting in a milky dusk sky as I cleared the Eurotunnel exit and found a small layby. Switching on the Tom-Tom, I pressed on the itinerary button and good as gold, the first stop popped up. Confirming I wanted the The Cottage Hotel in Calais, the unit informed me I had a whole two miles to ride. After setting off, I quickly realised that the voice commands were excellent and I really didn't need to look much at screen of the GPS. Within five minutes, the unit told me I had arrived at my destination and sure enough, across the road on the other side of a dual carriageway stood the hotel. I did a U-turn at the next roundabout and felt pretty pleased with myself as I pulled into the car-park and stopped in a space right outside the front door.
As I was unloading the Rigg Pak, the door opened and the manager came out to welcome me. He spent a few moments admiring the bike and then offered me the opportunity to pull the bike right up onto the area in front of the reception window which I gladly did. With the hour advance, it was nearly 7:30pm so after checking in, I had a quick shower and headed to the bar and restaurant. There were only one or two business groups and another couple of British tourists looking at menus so I was soon downing a very welcome "pression". In France, pression is our equivalent of draft beer on the pump but there is normally only one beer on the tap which is the establishments choice. You can order un demi (half), which is 8 ounces, un serieux (serious!), which is similar to a UK pint or Une formidable, which is a litre. Whilst I was thirsty, I was not formidably so, I therefore I settled for a "serious" pint. What is it about that first mouthfull of beer after a long day on a motorbike...?
Settling into a comfortable chair, I took a look at the menu. The restaurant offered a magnificent buffet table which was groaning with salads, soups, pates and breads at one end and delicate fondant deserts at the other. However, as this was my first night in France, I decided to have a relaxing meal served to the table. First choice however, a bottle Clos de Sixte Rose. Years ago I spent some time near Avignon in the Lirac region. Know more for the famous heavy Chateau-Neuf-du Pape, the area also produces stunning Rose's which range from light pink through to almost red. They don't seem to appear much in the UK so whenever I can, I take the chance to sample one. Having been led to my table, the wine was taken from the ice-bucket and poured straight into my slightly chilled glass. None of the pretentious rubbish of examining the bottle, sniffing the cork or tasting. The French are straight-forward in these matters. You ordered a bottle of wine, they are quite able to deliver the wine you ordered to the table. All that you will ever smell from sniffing a wine cork, is cork and when you taste the wine, it's going to be fine. If the unimaginable happens and it isn't, then without fuss, they'll just change it. Mine was perfect. Light, very dry and perfectly chilled. Just right for my appetisers of Coquille St Jacques on a bed of chive stalks and a white sauce. For the main course, I chose a plain grilled Dover Sole in butter with fresh vegatables and finally a moist Tarte Tatin with a rich cream sauce. Having re-aquainted myself once more with simple but excellent French cuisine, I finished my bottle of Rose and after checking email on the free wi-fi, went to bed satisfied with the first 180 miles of my journey.
No comments:
Post a Comment