Strasbourg, according to an Internet search is the principal city of the Alsace region in the North-East of France and is close to the German-French border. It is situated on the Ill river and can boast of being a miniature representation of France with a flavour of Germany.

The train ride from Stuttgart to Strasbourg was nearly three hours long and took us through a typical European countryside replete with vast stretches of green pastures, towering windmills and languidly grazing black-and-white cows. It was abundantly clear to me now why Mr Yash Chopra chose these locales as backdrops for his blockbuster love stories. However, as the hopeless romantic in me focused on the scenic beauty of the landscape and floated on a cloud of quixotic fantasies, my scientific and hence practical co-traveller dwelled upon the structure of the windmill blades and on the formation of contrails  up in the sky.

The train pulled into the main station right on time. “Bienvenue à Strasbourg,”  greeted the electronic female voice as we wandered around the station looking for the tourist information kiosk. With a map in hand and our back packs, we must have looked like the typical Asian tourists lapping up all the fantastic story book charm of this medieval French town. We were informed that the city was tiny and could be covered on foot.

‘Petite France’ and ‘Pont Couverts’ were our first stops. Petite France is a pretty little neighbourhood nestled in the heart of Strasbourg. Walking through the tiny alleys and across toy like bridges, we feasted our eyes on the hustle bustle and picture postcard sights. Small islands of people enjoying a summer brunch in the sun and street vendors selling colourful sketches of the various landmarks in Strasbourg, allured us instantly. We clicked incessantly with our camera.

Stopping over at a confectionery which advertised home made wares, we inhaled deeply, the delicious aroma of chocolate (this memory till date makes my mouth water). The shop window displayed chocolates and candies of all shapes, sizes, colours and fillings possible. It was a chocolate lover’s paradise and despite the slightly steep prices, we decided to sample one each of the dark and the milk chocolate truffles. The little drops of heaven were marvellous and melted in the mouth so exquisitely that we, the innocent recipients of these had no other option but to close our eyes and experience the short lived pleasure before it slipped down our throats. Tearing ourselves away from the chocolate shop, we moved on to admire tourist boats sailing in the river Ill.

The incessant walking had built up our appetites and we decided to stop at a tiny eatery for a ‘quick bite’. Our ‘quick bite’ quickly turned into a full-fledged grand lunch as our waiter (who surprisingly turned out to be Indian) brought us our order of a gigantic ocean salad comprising squids, oysters, prawns, salmon, fresh tomatoes, lettuce and crunchy slices of cucumber and a foot-long tomato mozzarella sandwich which smelt headily of basil.

Having satisfied the rumble in our bellies, we moved ahead towards the Cathédrale Notre Dame (namesake of its Parisian counterpart). A large Gothic structure which happens to be the sixth tallest church in the world awaited us. Dozens of ferocious gargoyle sculptures threatened to pounce out of the confines of the massive cathedral. The grey exterior enhanced the Gothic look of the cathedral and along with the gargoyles added to the grimness of the edifice. Legends of a secret underground lake and of the mysterious wind which blows around the cathedral impatiently waiting till date for the Devil trapped inside added to the eeriness of the experience.

However, the sunny weather and the hoards of visitors in all kinds of summer attires added the much required colour to the surroundings. The South-East Asians with their fancy electronic equipment (State-of-the-Art cameras, sleek cell phones etc) and their hilarious picture worthy poses (well, victory signs and thumbs up signs in front of a cathedral are kind of hilarious), the Americans with their overly causal attires, the stiff Europeans sporting  perfect couture and prim manners, the odd Indian family complete with a stern, mustachioed father, a mother clad in a demure salwar kameez and sports shoes and two semi-westernized children looking uncomfortable, were some of the typical tourists buzzing around us.

An insatiable appetite pushed us towards an ice cream shop. Sitting in the center of the square, facing the cathedral we devoured our mango ice creams and derived cheap thrills from gazing at the motley crowd and commenting on everyone’s attire and behaviour. The age old game of guessing what strangers were discussing amongst each other made us feel like little children. A little bit of window shopping and a little bit of aimless strolling also contributed to our beautiful day out. Finally at 4 pm, having decided that we had seen it all, we bid farewell to this medieval town and headed back.

Exhausted from all the walking and talking, the journey back was quieter as both of us assimilated the events of the day. The sky suddenly turned overcast and with thunderbolts getting louder by the minute, the downpour worsened. But even that could not dampen our excitement about the impending week long tryst with history as we would wind our way through cities like Paris, Rome, Florence, Venice and Berlin. “‘All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go..” so sang John Denver. Well..we were ready too!

Preeti Sharma is an MBA from Symbiosis Institute of Management Studies and dabbles with creative writing. As she stepped into the hectic and mundane routine of corporate life, her writing became her  stress buster. Her insatiable wanderlust and need for change prompt her to travel as much as possible and she is at present, travelling across Europe and trying to pen down as many memories as possible.