Among the many things that Diana and I have in common is a background in journalism. For many years her family published a newspaper for the Italian
community in Newark, New Jersey. And Diana’s sister Giovanna and her brother-in-law Joe pursued lifelong
careers in journalism. As for me, I calculate it was almost exactly 48 years ago
that I ventured nervously through the portals of 85 Fleet Street, the imposing
headquarters of Reuters (in those days – probably a bank now!) to embark on a
career as a journalist. So it was a delight for us both to discover a museum of
journalism in Louhans.
The premises of the local newspaper l’Indépendent have been preserved
intact, with the addition of some early printing machinery.
Drawers of type in different fonts for hand-setting.
This is the editor’s office, which could have come from the Front Page
movie.
The print shop beyond has classic hot-metal linotype
machines, with what the French call saumons, fish-shaped bars of lead and tin that are melted and cast into the
typeface.
The press still has a newsprint roll in place.
The reporters’ room has an early Macintosh – the death knell
for traditional newspapers – as well as some wonderful old typewriters. I had
one of those and loved it dearly.
This was a great nostalgia trip. The smells of the newsroom
and the printshop still seemed to linger. And although at first we were the
only visitors, later a family arrived, and the children seemed to be intrigued
by these strange machines.
But Sunday lunch is a serious matter in France, though we
found the dining room at the Cheval Rouge hardly crowded.
This blog was supposed to have a gastronomic flavour this
year, so here is the amuse bouche –
mini moules marinières with cheese puffs, followed
by:
Escargots, smoked
salmon and salmon terrine, and, of course, the famous Poulet
de Bresse à la crème.
We needed the longish walk back to the boat after all that.
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