Alsace Region, France - A Contrast of Beauty with Sorrow

After an emotional goodbye with Aaron I took a train two trains and a bus to the enchanting town of Riquewihr, in the northeast corner of France. The final train was a fast train reaching incredible speeds of 200km/h but was nothing compared to the awe of when I reached the town! When I stepped off the bus, I fell love (with the town that is)! This small charming town consists of cobblestone streets, tall elegant buildings, flowers blooming in every window, pastry shops at every turn, wine sellers on every street and all of this within the background of endless rolling hills with orchards of grapes! It's a lot to take in and a stark contrast to the hues of Morocco. I arrived to my hotel and got my first WARM welcome from a person living in France! All joking aside the staff really were lovely and even my hotel room was perfect. It was very clean with soaker tub, comfy bed and pillow and french country style furniture. I took it all in and then I literally took it all in; by buying sausage, cheese, wine and macaroons and having a picnic in my room!

The following day I walked five kilometers to the main town in the area: Ribeauville. Amazing how many little towns there are here, all spaced out by only 2-3 kms. Each town has it's own church and probably ten or more vineyards with wine to sell. The beauty of the area with its' blooming flowers, forests and vineyards took my breath away. I felt totally at peace as I walked through the french countryside to Ribeauville and much enjoyed the town. I was able to hike up to three ruins in the hills from 1200 AD! It felt good to work up a sweat and I enjoyed the days in the area drinking Resling wine, taking pictures, enjoying the view and a few maracoons/delicious meals on the way.

While in Riquewihr, I had gotten an email from my mom about my grandmother being sick. My grandmother was in long term care due to short term memory loss, blindness and several other health issues leaving her unable to care for herself. Through it all she has remained one of the most kind and wise women I know. When I would visit her, I would lay next to her, hold her hand and she would tell me stories of the pioneers days. The stories of harsh winters, glorious summers, berry picking, horse riding, silent movies, war and dating remain gems in my mind. I decided to call and soon realized death was imminent. She passed away peacefully a day later and after several teary phone calls with my mother I decided that I would take my grandmother's own advice that she had given me before my last big trip when she was of sound mind. She told me that if anything happened to her, not return for her funeral but carry on and pay homage to her on my return to Canada. That said the decision was a difficult and lengthy one. To miss the funeral of someone who has so profoundly touched and influenced your life was heart wrenching but as I stepped onto Kenyan soil, I knew I had made the decision that my grandmother would have wanted. Rest in Peace Stella Drysdale, you will be greatly missed!