We're Going to Paris Day 6: Okay, Actually It's Colmar Now

The train from Paris to Colmar was about 100 euro each, and just as expensive on the way back. A plane would be about the same cost, if not cheaper.
A bus would be cheaper, but it would take us 10 hours (while a train would take literally 25% of that time).
So when I stumbled upon this app called BlaBlaCar that would get us to Colmar for about 40 euro each, I was pretty stoked.
BlaBlaCar is a carpooling app that does not exist in the US, because Americans hate carpooling (I think? This is my hot take anyway). It matches up people looking for a ride with people willing to give one. The best match - someone who had two seats left in their car and would take us directly to Colmar instead of a nearby town - was leaving from Gare D'Antony, which took us about an hour to get to from our Paris Airbnb. He had a 3.8/5, which made us both just a bit nervous, but this app has been around for over 10 years and it feels sort of like uber for long rides and the written reviews of this guy all seemed chill. We even texted a bit beforehand.

I'm so glad we did BlaBlaCar. The ride was uneventful and easy, and Mike and I took turns sleeping in the backseat. The first half of the trip wasn't a lot to see, but once you get to Alsace it's all windy roads and forests and it's beautiful. I'm so glad we decided to stay in Colmar.

The carpool driver, Akli, dropped us off right outside our Airbnb, which was really nice of him. Our Airbnb host answered the doorbell pretty much immediately. His name is Jean-Marc and he speaks very, very little English. He was glad I spoke French because he can't really speak English.

Our Airbnb is small but it's so much nicer than our Parisian one. It has modern plumbing and a washing machine and a television AND WIFI. IT HAS WIFI. We have a private courtyard (that we share with the other tenants, okay, not private, but still) and Jean-Marc lives in the same building so if we have any questions or concerns we just let him know.

"You're from England?" he asked us as we were walking up the stairs to the bedroom (it's two stories - the bottom floor has the kitchen and the TV and a couch and the toilet and a chill area, and upstairs is the bath and the bedroom).
"No, we're from the US," I responded.
"Oh, but that's incredible! The US? Really?"
"Los Angeles."
"Los Angeles? And you're here in Colmar? Wow. Europeans, they're used to small spaces like this, but not Americans."
"Oh, this place is so great. It's really nice."
"Americans. Wow. But that's a long flight. 15 hours?"
"Something like that."
"Did you stop in New York?"
"Keflavik. Iceland."
"Wow. And where did you come from before this?"
"Paris."
"That's far, Paris."

Anyway this dude is chill I am a fan.

After getting settled, Mike and I decided to walk around Colmar and get something to eat. Colmar, by the way, is everything I wanted it to be. Cobblestone streets, French/German architecture, buildings dating back from medieval times, and this beautiful little river - La Petite Venice - running through it all.

Deep thoughts happening.

"My sister's gonna ask me, 'oh, you were in Colmar?'" Mike said as we were walking around. "And I'm gonna be like, 'actually, it's Colmah."
"God I hope you do that. You'll be wrong too, of course, but I hope you do it."

Not my first choice of restaurant in Colmar tbh.

We stopped at a restaurant for some "tarte flambée," which is basically Alsatian pizza. It is great.

I took a bite before remembering to take a pic my b.

Next to us was a table with two couples in their 60s. One woman was very loudly playing a piano app on her phone. I turned to stare at her because clearly she wanted an audience (why else would you do this?). Mike leaned over and grabbed my forearm.

"Caitlin," he said. "We're in a public space."
"Yeah, that's my point."
"It's not even that noticeable."
"Not for you, maybe. You're all the way on the other side of the table. I can hear it really clearly from here. And also, she's so old. How are you gonna be this old and do shit like this? Unbelievable."
"She can probably speak English."
"Good. Then she knows she's old."

Okay, maybe I overreacted, but then she started using some SINGING APP and sang into her phone and I can't even. They were super European, too, so obviously Europeans have no manners. Right?

Mike was still struggling to remember the Austrian table manners his mother taught him. Which side does the fork go on? Why is the fork in the left hand if we're right handed? Because the knife does all the work. Yeah, but I have to sit straight as a board, I can't even lean forward at all, so really, it's the fork doing all the work, and all the food falls off my fork by the time it reaches my mouth!

I decided not to respond to that last part.

We walked around a little bit more and I'm so excited to be in Colmar. It's also known for wine and pretzels and black forest cake and it's cheaper than Paris (obviously) and the guy who made the Statue of Liberty is from here and it's gonna be a great few days I think. Pretty stoked.