Day 0-1 Thursday-Friday September 9-10
It is appropriate that this is a combined beginning day for the trip in my journal, because it was also in real life. I got up about 9:30 a.m. in DeKalb, and right now, in Chartres, my computer (which doesn't know it is now in a different country) still says it is about 9:30 a.m. And I haven't had any sleep yet, either.
I usually manage to get some sleep on the plane, but not this time. I was actually tired enough for a nap on the Chicago-Montreal leg, but it was short and I didn't bother trying. On the Montreal-Paris run, I wanted to sleep, but just wasn't tired enough. I stay up past midnight enough to make 1 a.m. seem not so late. So, there I was, trying to sleep, checking my watch to see it says it is now 1 a.m. As I said, I wasn't feeling all that tired just because it was late.
Then I opened my eyes and looked out the window and saw the faint blue line out there. “How nice,” I thought, “there's the edge of the wing.” Then I started thinking about how could I see the edge of the wing in total darkness. No, it was the first hint of approaching dawn. Very pretty, actually, but a warning that I wasn't going to get any real sleep. I closed my eyes for several minutes at a stretch, but it wasn't sleep.
But let's go back a stage. I like Canada. I like Canadians. But I do NOT like Canadian border officials of any sort. Hell is being stuck in a Canadian Customs line for eternity. Most of the people on the Chicago-Montreal flight were continuing on to Paris. So we all have to pass through the “Connecting Flight” passport check. Why they need to do this I do not know, as we are all continuing on. We are going to be in Canada for less than an hour, unless the passport guy holds us up. And he might, because he's got all these people to check in all by himself. There's only one guy for all of us, and it takes time. You're probably thinking it was stupid of them not to have another guy helping out the first guy. But you miss the beauty of the situation – there can only be one guy because there is only one booth. It was designed this way on purpose.
Air Canada did not give me either of my seat selections. The first was at least on the aisle, as I had requested. But on the flight to Paris, they gave me a middle seat, and then gave the aisle and window seats to a couple. So I shifted over to the window so they could sit together.
French bureaucracy was fast – they didn't even check most bags. But they did have a weird thing I've never seen in any other airport. It's a very large turntable for a door. It's about 20 feet across, all glass, and connects three areas. Two of them are the corridors for arriving passengers, and the other is the departing passenger search area. Instead of putting a door in the wall of the screening area, they came up with this thing. There's one big central divider that swings around, and you can only enter when it let's you. Once it's past, you have to wait for it to come around again.
I made terrible time getting to Chartres. I hadn't made a detailed set of directions from the airport to get around Paris, instead of driving through it. I thought I could make a quick check of Google at the airport, but I couldn't log onto any of their wireless networks, even the one that was not locked down. So I bought a map of the Paris area, and figured out my best route. The only problem was that the big ring road around Paris didn't seem to have a number or other identifying marks.
So, being afraid I was going to miss it, I turned off at the first turn for the town I was guiding by. Wrong place, of course. I was going in more or less the right direction, but getting less so by the minute. I pulled off to check the map, found where I was and where I needed to go, and then got lucky and found my way back to the highway. (You didn't think parking places were just there, did you?) There was a traffic accident to slow things down, and just ordinary slowness. But once beyond Paris, the road was open, good, and fast.
I had two maps of how to find the hotel in Chartres. Neither helped a whole lot, although the Google map did lead me to the hotel, even though I read it wrong. The hotel is in a pedestrian zone, so you can't actually drive around looking for it. But I finally found it, and they told me how to smuggle the car in, and I am finally settled in. So that's how I managed to stay up all night, and then some.
I am going to finish this, then go out to get dinner. I'll smoke my pipe and maybe walk around a bit while I do. And then it will be an early-to-bed night. Despite how cheerful I sound, I am really worn out. I did, however, while wandering around trying to find the hotel, fulfill Dolores's wish already. There was a swan in the river, and I have it's picture now.
I went out briefly earlier to get some pictures of the outside of the cathedral with the afternoon sun. I tried some of the stained glass windows, but I'll have to blow them up to see if they came out. I wanted to take Malcolm Miller's tour again, but it starts at noon, and I would like to be on my way to Chateaudun by then. I may just go over and take lots of pictures, and leave it at that.
Day 2 September 11
I actually slept around the clock, 7:40 to 7:40. It wasn't a really solid 12-hour snorefest, as the bed was a rather narrow twin, and if I rolled over I woke up to center myself in the bed again. But I probably never stayed awake for more than a few seconds. I awoke fresh and ready for another day. Good thing, too.
I forgot to mention the car I have – an Opel Corsa – the Renault Twingo and Fiat Panda (yes!) were all out. It's not too bad; it'll do 140 KPH but it's not in a hurry to get up there. Acceleration is not it's middle name. And I went through a tunnel without lights, because I didn't know where the light switch was. But I do now. The car runs well, and doesn't tremble at high speed, which is always a good thing.
So, it was an enjoyable day overall, with some nice pleasures, a few minor disappointments, and one frustrating end. The disappointments were not getting to hear Malcolm Miller's tour once more, but I knew that yesterday. But that was OK because I was dropping him so I could see the castle at Chateaudun. I got out of Chartres by following a good map, although I did manage to miss one (very important) turn. But I soon found the right road, and was on my way. French roads, while not perfect, are in generally good shape, and the inter-city traffic is light, so far.
Chateaudun is a nice old town, with nice old town streets zigging and zagging around. Even though the castle was on the other side of town, I did not have any trouble finding it. It's a nice castle, I guess, because I could only see the outside. The castle is open from 9 to 12:30. Well, no, that's not quite correct. The castle gift shop is open from 9 to 12:30. Everything closes for lunch at 12:30, and they expect you to spend an hour touring the castle, so the last entry is at 11:30. I was there at 11:50, and to me it was closed. And if you wanted to see the main keep, that was by guided tour only, which was at 3. Well, that's a disappointment, but it left more time for the rest of the day.
Chateaudun proved to be as easy to leave as to enter, though I will admit to a bit of luck there. Still, I was on my way to Orleans, though getting a bit hungry. I wound up getting a ham quiche, about 4 inches across, for 1.7 euros, and very tasty. Drink was another matter. I didn't want to pay an inflated price at a cafe, and there are apparently no soft drink machines in France. It was a dry day.
I went up and then down the main drag in Orleans, looking for the cathedral, before finally seeing the sign – I don't think it's properly marked coming from the west. Parking was promising to be a real pain, but you actually park under the cathedral. Talk about convenient! The cathedral is nice, very beautiful stonework, lovely design. The stained glass depicts the life of Joan of Arc, and naturally postdates her. I took one picture just as a sample. There's nothing wrong with it; it's just big, single scenes. I don't think it's as interesting as the older cluttered style.
After my brief lunch, I headed out east along the Loire for the oldest church in France, a very nice cathedral, and Sully castle. The sign said “oldest church – third right”. Maybe I counted wrong, but I found a nice old church, and took pictures of it. But when I checked the guidebook, I found this church didn't match the description of the one I was looking for.
So, I went to the next right, to Germigny, and found a very nice, very old church. It was built in 806, by a close personal friend of Charlemagne. It originally had four apses, one on each side. But they took one down and lengthened it out into a nave. There's a very nice ninth century mosaic in the ceiling of the rear apse. This church is in a small town, off the main road, and they have two big lots for the tourist parking. In season, they probably need them, because there were three other small groups of people there when I was there, and another just leaving. Carolingian churches are more popular than I ever thought.
Next stop was the beautiful cathedral in St. Benoit. They also have lots of parking for tourists, and it was almost all occupied. I couldn't believe it. Then I got to the cathedral, and found out why. They were doing a serviced, and it must have been special, because the whole church was packed. They had some band making music, or torturing cats. I lean toward the cat theory. Anyway, with the service going on, I couldn't very well walk around taking pictures, so I did a couple from the door and left.
All that much more time for the very nice castle of the duke of Sully. I came up upon it too quickly to find a spot to take the picture from across the Loire, which is the best possible view. But I thought I could get it on my way back. I cross the river, turn in at the castle drive, and find SCA has got there ahead of me. The field out back is full of medieval tents, dozens of them. And the parking area was full of cars – people were still arriving at 5 in the afternoon. Everybody in France who wasn't at the church in St. Benoit, was here. Actually, it was some local fete, and the tents looked like merchants, although I didn't go take a close look.
And of course, who would want to look at a bunch of fake medievalists, when he has a beautiful castle to explore. Unfortunately, just as I was about to take a nice shot of the facade, my camera's battery died. As I said, some disappointments. It's really too bad, because it was a nice castle, and the gift shop only had postcards of the parts I had already photographed, and the guide book didn't have enough other pictures to tempt me.
Well, might as well get back to Orleans and my hotel. Despite leaving the castle by a different way than I had gone in, I found my road right away. I should have noticed right away that I hadn't re-crossed the Loire – the thought was kind of tickling the back of my mind, but I kept ignoring it. I did, however, notice that the sun was setting in the east. So I turned around and went North, as I was supposed to do. The rest of the trip back to Orleans was uneventful. I arrived there about 6 p.m.
We have now arrived to the frustration mentioned above. I had the name and address of my hotel, and a brief note on how to find it. I had made the note myself, looking at Google maps. It seemed so easy, looking at the map: turn here, drive here, and there it is. But in France, even if a highway has a number, they do not always use it on a directional sign. Or maybe I missed it, but I certainly did not turn down the right road.
Some four plus hours later I finally found the hotel. I had some idea where it should be, but didn't know how to get there. I'd be somewhere near the area, but always made a wrong turn and wound up somewhere else. Part of the riverside drive was blocked off for a big party for everyone who wasn't in St. Benoit or Sully. I wound up south of the Loire, twice. I wound up northeast of Orleans, and couldn't find my way back for the longest time. Then I looked at the gas gauge.
Yes, of course it was on “E”. Since I was downtown Orleans, I decided to head out of town and look for gas in a less urban area. I drove quite a distance, but I did find a gas station. There was no attendant on duty, but I had my trusty credit card, and feared no gas pump. Unfortunately, the gas pump feared no credit card, and turned down every one I threw at it. This station was in the lot of a large food store, and elsewhere in the lot were several people wearing red and white. I thought they might be employees of the store taking a break, but others kept showing up, so maybe it was a red and white clothing club.
But one of them spoke English, and they were all helpful. They eventually agreed on the one place in the area that was still open and had an attendant. It was, of course, on the far side of Orleans. But it was there, and had an attendant, and I got my tank filled. I also got a street map of Orleans.
Yes, you're all probably saying “Well, why didn't you think of that earlier?” Well, I never said I was smart. OK, I have said I was smart, but how many of you have actually believed me? Anyway, I did think to call the hotel, and get directions from them. But I didn't have their number, just their address.
No matter, I finally had a map and could navigate my way to the hotel. The map included a book of street names in Orleans and the surrounding towns. I wanted Avenue du General Leclerc, and there was Leclerc in the index, and on the map. Oh Joy! Except that it was not the right Leclerc. This was Rue du Marechal Leclerc. So I looked through every town in the directory for a Leclerc, and finally I found it. And it was right where I had originally thought it should be, sort of.
It was actually in the next town over, back where my gas station saviors had been. I headed right for it, on a nice, simple route. Two blocks later I ran into the detour sign. I wandered a little, including down the trolley line, but eventually found myself almost where I wanted to be. Just a couple more turns, and then... After re-crossing the Loire again and re-reading the map, I got onto the right road. It didn't look it, and I wasn't sure I hadn't made another wrong turn. But just as I was going to check the map again at a red light, there it was across the intersection!
Their restaurant was closed, of course, but the night clerk suggested a pizzeria somewhere down the road. I wasn't really interested in pizza, but I was starving. It was actually not on the road at all, but about a half block north, hidden by other buildings. But they had a sign on the shoulder, pointing the way in, And it was a full service Italian restaurant, with a big menu. The scallopina Milanese came out looking a lot like a nice German schnitzel, but with spaghetti and lots of bread, it was very filling.
Being lost in Orleans for some 4 hours was really frustrating, but at the time it didn't seem all that bad, because it was like a series of being a little bit lost. And the occasional really big lost. Still, I survived, and got a nice meal, and it was a pretty nice day, overall.
Actually, the weather has been very nice these two days. The sun's been out, the breeze is nice, and the temperatures have been upper 60's in the morning, and lower 70's in the afternoon. Today even got up to 80. Tomorrow, I'm off to Blois, with many stops along the way. I hope I make it all right.
Day 3 September 12.
I dawdled a bit this morning, picking up some lunch stuff and just being leisurely. This was not a good thing, as I had a long day planned. I put on the one light-weight shirt I had brought, since yesterday was so warm. And today started off cool, with a light rain. It did warm up and clear up later, but I had to get out my jacket.
My first stop was the cathedral of Clery St. Andre. It has the tomb of Louis XI, the spider king. The town also had a big street fair going on, blocking off the main road through town. I managed to find my way around it to the cathedral, and even found a place to park half a block away. Did I mention it was Sunday? Mass was still in session, with special services scheduled to follow it. Back to the car.
The next stop was Beaugency, with a nice old ruined keep and another nice cathedral. It was still Sunday, of course, but church had just let out. Except for the service that was still going on. And the keep was locked. But it was a nice little town.
On to my first real Chateau – Chambord. It was open, and all the French people who had been getting to places ahead of me were already there. It was nice to see so many of them taking an interest in a piece of their history, rather than leaving it just for the tourists. Chambord is huge on the outside, but the big facade actually contains a number of connecting passages, and conceals a very large courtyard.
It's not really small inside, and there are a lot of rooms, just not the hundreds I expected to find after seeing the outside. The main keep (unfortified) is divided on each floor into four blocks of rooms, with big waiting areas for courtiers in between. And the big double helix staircase in the center. That is really neat, and lots of people enjoyed going up the two staircases and looking at each other through the windows in it. They have set up some suites as they would have been for Louis XIV, and for Francis I, who started building it. The best part is that they let you wander almost anywhere you want, without supervision. Not many national monuments do that.
I had Villesavin scheduled next, mostly just to look at the outside. But they wanted to charge for even that, so I gave it a pass, and went on to Cheverny. It's a pretty, but simple chateau, with large grounds, and free parking. Again, you can go on your own, but some parts are closed off, because the family still lives there. Some of the older decoration is very nice, including the painted leather wall covering in the dining room. As I was going in, I passed a sign pointing to the Chenil.
Now came the hard part - getting to my hotel in Blois. This was one that Google had misled me about, but I had figured out just where it was, and how to get there. I gave myself good directions, and felt sure I could find it. I may have made a wrong turn, but after walking around the neighborhood looking for a restaurant, I think I made the right turn, but drove right past the hotel. Anyway, I missed it on the first pass. But I have started learning. I saw a sign for the train station, and they might have a town map there, for the convenience of travelers. They didn't, but they did have a magazine stand which sold maps, and that worked out just as well. I still missed a turn or two, but the hotel is right by the castle, so I just had to follow signs for that, and there I was. Actually in my room by 6:30.
Dinner was another thing. The hotel does breakfast, but not dinner. The clerk said there was a nice place “just down the street”. I couldn't find anything nearby at all. I passed a couple of places with high prices for food I didn't recognize, except for the fish. I finally found a sign listing places for tourists, including restaurants. Two were across the street. So I went to one, right behind a pair of American women. They got a table for two, but only after some discussion with the maitre d'.
I didn't want to try my luck, so I went to the other place, a pizzeria, according to its sign. Sigh. Here I am in France, and I've had Italian food two nights running. Actually, like that place near Orleans, this had a full menu. I got carbonara with duck – very good. And excellent gelata to finish it off.
I had planned to see the castle today, but I got here too late for that, and too tired from walking all over Chambord. I had also wanted to walk around the town, and see some of the interesting places listed in the guidebook. The Italian restaurant was actually at the head of the street leading to some of those places, so I went looking for them after dinner.
The first was the hotel (town house) of the Duke of Guise – No. 18 rue de Chemonton. And there was the street, so I kept looking at the addresses as I went along. There was 24, then 22, then 20. The next one had no number but had to be 18. The guidebook said that the hotel was richly decorated, and this was the plainest house on a street full of plain houses. It turns out it was the next house, set back from the street behind a wall and gate. It was dark so I don't know how nice it was, but you can't get closer than the gate.
Down the street, and around the corner was another fine old house, with a really nice gate. So said Michelin. I did see a gate which might have been very nice four of five centuries ago, but it's pretty battered now. And there's nothing else to see there. So tomorrow I will see the castle, and maybe a couple of other things near it, and then be off again.
Well, tonight I am doing what I should have done before I left. Actually, what I should have done was to print out maps of the final stages approaching each hotel. The second best thing, which I have now done, is to create print files of them, which I can view on the netbook, even without a wifi connection. Smart sure is easy after the fact.
Day 4 Monday, September 13.
Blois castle is very nice, though heavily restored. The medieval original bits were worked over by Louis XII and Francis I when they enlarged the place. Louis XIII's brother Gaston added his own wing, but it all fits together pretty well. The wings do look different, but not so much that it jars the sensibilities. And in the course of time, as retinues grew and room had to be found for everybody, many of the rooms were subdivided and rearranged. And all that was washed away by the 19th century restorers.
So a lot of what you see is the modernish architect's idea of how it should be. Lots of things, even fireplaces, look too good to be 500 years old. But it all looks very nice. Louis XII had a porcupine for his “mascot”, and Francis I had a salamander; Francis' wife had an ermine. And they are all over the place, along with initials. Actually, Louis and his wife Anne of Brittany have both their initials all over. Francis didn't share.
Across the street, or down the hill, depending on how you look at it, was Anne's special pavillion. I went to look at it, but it's been turned into a restaurant. How soon people forget.
After that I got in the car, looked at the map and saw that the road leading to the road to Vendome was right outside my hotel. How convenient! Unfortunately, I was parked in the side street, and the road I needed was one way where I needed to turn. Fortunately, my driving around Blois yesterday made me an expert at finding the castle. And since my hotel was across the street from the castle, it was easy to get on the right road.
I wanted to see the abbey church and the old castle in Vendome, and found lots of signs for the abbey. But first I found the tourist office. This was the first time I had found one open, and it was not encouraging. The clerk spoke no English, and had trouble understanding that I wanted a map of the town. He had some, and was probably thrilled to finally learn what they were for.
The map was not great, but it got me to the abbey. Only the wall ends of the groins of the cloister are left. The rest were pulled down, along with several other parts of the abbey during the French revolution. During Napoleon's time, a regiment of cavalry was stationed there. But they left the church alone, and it is rather nice. It is as big as a cathedral, and some of the interior work is very fine. The best part, though, is the front. It is a beautiful maze of gothic ornamentation.
The castle was next, and seemed to be easy to get to from the abbey. But the road I thought led there had no turn-off to go up the hill. But when it met the main road, the sign pointed “To the castle”. I turned and followed the road, and followed the road, and followed the road. I was well out of town and thinking of turning back when I saw another sign. It seems you have to drive a long way out, climbing up the hill, and then drive a long way back to get there. Which is a shame, because there was so little to see there after all. Most of the castle is in ruins and inaccessible to boot. A huge tree blocks your view of the biggest piece left, and any large blank stretches of wall were filled with an outdoor showing of some photographer's work. Not very thrilling.
I was planning on going to a nice old castle at Lavardin next, but I needed to make up some time for the time I had spent this morning in Blois. And Michelin said the castle wasn't open after early September. But my Michelin is old, and the opening times may be different, I couldn't remember if I had checked this earlier or not. I meant to check it on the internet while I had a connection in Blois, but I forgot. So I decided to skip it to save time.
That meant going more or less straight to Chaumont. More or less, because I missed a turn, but was able to find an alternate route that worked out pretty well. Chaumont chateau is right on the Loire, just down from the bridge (one of the many pictures I have missed because I didn't know to stop before getting on a bridge). So when I crossed the river, I turned right to get to the castle. It's pretty high up, so I didn't expect to see it fram the road, but after a while I realized I must have missed the turn. Back I went, looking for the sign. And right there, a block from the bridge, was the sign, so I turned and went up the road.
There were lots of cars lining both sides of the road, and I thought these were people who were too cheap to pay to park at the castle. So I drove on until, on top of the hill, I saw a sign pointing back down the hill to the chateau entrance. Then I got it – you parked where you could, and walked in. Well, that's OK – how hard can it be? The walk is composed of a series of terraces, about 3 or 4 inches tall, sloping upward, and about 12 and half feet long (I measured heel to toe with my shoes). There are 120 terraces. This makes about 1500 feet, uphill all the way.
It was worth it, though. Chaumont is very lovely, with some great original pieces. Unfortunately, they were also doing an art exhibit. Fortunately, it was only in rooms that weren't part of the regular tour, so you could skip them. There was a guided group ahead of me, and I had to wait for them to get out of the way to take some pictures. I finally got past them in a large room with a beautiful tiled floor. The guides go on and on, and the crowd never moves, so they block off large parts of any room they are in. There were two tours going at the same time in Blois, and it was twice as bad.
My last stop for today was Fougeres, a medieval style castle built just as everyone else was starting to build chateaux. It looks really nice from the outside, and that's all I could see. I got there at 4:35. They close at 5:00. Ticket sales stop at 4:30. And there are no exceptions, even if you ask nicely. And there were some people already there, so what harm could one more make? But, no. And there were lots of places during the day when I could have saved 5 or 10 minutes. Oh, well.
Anyway, on to Amboise, and the first trial of my new, improved netbook maps. Just outside Amboise, I turned on the netbook, and checked the map, and then left the netbook on so I could have it available if I needed it. This worked pretty well, until I forgot to tickle the mousepad thingy, and it went to sleep. It wanted a password to wake up, and I couldn't type and drive.
The route to the hotel should have been pretty easy. Just beyond the bridge, turn left onto Rue de Voltaire. But I misread my Michelin map, and thought there were two bridges, so I ignored the first one. It didn't matter. Coming back into town from the west, I saw a direction sign pointing to the Rue de Voltaire, and pulled in. I soon found out there isn't a similar sign for people coming from the east.
I was supposed to go up Rue de Voltaire to Rue Chaptal, and find the Hotel Chaptal. And up the road I go, and there's a huge sign on a building about Residence Chaptal, so I turn there. But the residence is obviously under construction. Well, I figured I should have gone around the next corner, that must be where it is. I actually was able to go around a block (well, two blocks square) successfully, without ending up in some other part of town. That's how I know there isn't a sign for Rue de Voltaire from the east.
So I went up the street again, and turned the next (and last) corner, and still no hotel. A long block down the road was a car park, so I parked and walked back. I thus found out that I had driven past the hotel twice already. Voltaire turns into Chaptal along the way, and the hotel is right there. I had focused on the big sign painted on the building, and missed the smaller, but still big, sign for the hotel. So, I got my room, and I can leave the car in the car park, because it's free, and there's nowhere else to put it, anyway.
Amboise is nice and everything is convenient. There must be at least a half dozen hotels in the immediate area, and a dozen or more restaurants all along a nearby street. I saw a cat walking between the tables at one outdoor cafe, quite as calm as could be. I came back that way ten or fifteen minutes later, and the cat was still there, sitting by a doorway, ignoring all the people around.
Dinner was very good, French lamb chops, with green beans and fried potatoes in the shape of chicklets. Odd, but good. And a Norman apple tart. And a bottle of Pelforth beer, the only dark beer on the menu. Plenty of malt, a little light on the hops, but not bad.
I was going to send this out to everyone last night, but my internet connection was slow. Comcast's mail service never finished loading, so I set up the email reader in Ubuntu to get my Comcast email. And it wanted to download everything before I could send anything. It hung up a couple of times, and then finally stopped trying. Well, I stopped. It was getting late, and it still wasn't done. Tonight, I can get a connection, but I can't do anything with it. It never asks for ID and password, so I can't use it. The hotel has only had WiFi for a few weeks, and I don't think they have it set up right. I also don't think they handle it themselves. Anyway, when I went out to dinner, the clerk was busy.
Day 5 Tuesday, September 14
The chateau at Amboise is really nice. Most of it is gone, now. They have a map showing the original layout, and what is no longer there. So there is a lot of empty space, but it sets off the remaining pieces and lets you get nice uninterrupted photos. But everything is sort of detached, and unconnected; it's hard to imagine the empty areas full of buildings.
There's a very nice little chapel off to one side where the kin g went to pray for an heir, and where the remains of Leonardo da Vinci are buried. He was originally buried somewhere else in Amboise, but the revolutionaries broke up his tomb. The bones were later reburied in this chapel. But the tomb is in the floor, so plain and set off by a rope that it's actually easy to miss. In fact, the Italian couple who went in right after me came out again so quickly that I think they missed it. The other interesting thing about this chapel are the two fireplaces, one on each side in a rather small area.
The castle literally towers over the town, looking directly into some people's backyards. There's no privacy when the castle is open. The view from the top is great, with wide sweeps of the Loire in each direction. You guide yourself around, so there's no hurry. The interior tour is laid out on a follow-the-arrow plan, but you get to see everything worth seeing.
In chateau after chateau, you see the same royal names – Charles VIII, Louis XII, Francis I, Henry II. From Joan of Arc's time (late 1420's), to sometime in the reign of Henry IV (late1590's), the Loire was the center of French royal life. Yes, lots of stuff happened in Paris, or someplace else, but the kings spent a lot of time here. One of the chateau guidebooks even comments on how, in contrast, the Bourbons preferred the Ile de France.
So Amboise is full of this history. Francis I living here and bringing Leonardo to stay at his “town house” nearby. Francis II almost being kidnapped by Huguenot plotters, which started off the French religious wars. The tour was nice; there were other people, but not so many as to get in the way. The rooms had the usual collection of old furniture (almost never original to the place), but the floors, ceilings and fireplaces were authentic.
The last bit of the castle you see is the tower of the Minims, I expected another tower full of rooms, but it's just a gigantic ramp. You go up a couple of turns to reach the upper courtyard. You can only go down about a quarter turn, just to show that it does go down. Then they have a poster showing the design of the tower and where you are. About three quarters of it is below the barrier. It was used to allow mounted soldiers to reach the upper parts of the castle easily. They could also have ridden up the front entrance ramp, but that might not have been allowed to just soldiers. And their stables may have been near there.
Chenonceau was next on the list. A big parking lot, with areas for picnicking, all on the other side of a railway. It seemed sort of incongruous, but I guess they have to go somewhere. This chateau is very up to date – lots of automated, plastic only, ticket machines, and the guy at the entrance scanned them with a laser scanner.
There's a long walk down a tree-lined drive to the chateau. Parking at the gate would have been more convenient, but less authentic. They were doing some restoration work on the front facade, so it was sheathed in tarps, but they did a sort of silk-screening on the tarps to simulate what you couldn't see. I had trouble taking pictures of the front anyway, because the sun was right behind and above the front.
Inside was beautiful, as much of it was original. The chapel is right at the front, and very fine gothic style. It was saved from destruction during the revolution when the owner at the time filled it with firewood. They have since put up a statue in her honor. As at Amboise, the structural parts – floors, ceilings, and fireplaces – are original, and the furniture is mostly from the right period. Not every chateau takes that care. They had lots of period drawings of the chateau, to show how it changed, mostly in the surroundings.
The owners were patriotic, as well. During the First World War, they offered the whole place to France as a hospital, and cared for over 2000 soldiers. In the Second World War, the river Cher was the demarcation line between occupied France and unoccupied France. So the front door was in enemy hands, but the back door, on the south bank, was not. The resistance used to use it as a convenient escape route from the Nazis.
They don't offer guided tours, but you can get an iPod audio tour. These people tended to stop in awkward places, oblivious to people trying to get past them. They weren't as bad as the outside guided tours, which tended to camp out for a lecture. In one room, I was trying to get a picture while a Japanese group was told all about the room. They weren't finished when another group came in. I went into the next room and when I came back, they were both gone, and I got my picture.
My worst wait for a picture was in the kitchens. They are inside two of the front piers supporting the chateau, and the rooms are not too big, and the passages between them aren't too wide, either. In one of the rooms they have the rotisserie, a wide fireplace with three long spits to hold the meat. At one end is a geared arrangement to regulate the turning. I was all set to take a picture of the whole thing, when a couple walks up to it, blocking the machinery end. The guy then tells the girl all about how the thing works, and he may have added the life history of the inventor. Just as they were finally leaving, a whole family moves in to examine it. At last, the young son noticed me waiting to take a picture, and prodded his father to get out of the way. They stepped back, and two seconds later I had my picture. I was even nice enough to stay out of his way when he took his picture.
There was one bad thing about the visit, and that was the second tour group that had interrupted me early on. They were weird looking, indifferent to everyone else around them, and acted like they had never been out in public before. I kept meeting up with them, everywhere I went. I left them in the basement kitchens and found them ahead of me on the second floor. One time I was trying to get to a room accessible only by a narrow corridor. They were coming way, into the room I was in, so I waited for them to all come in. But the last few decided to just stay where they were. I tried nudging one guy to get him to move, and finally had to just push him aside to get past. In the kitchen room with the rotisserie, the access was by a short, narrow stair. I was ready to leave when they showed up and filled the stairs. Then one guy sits down on the top step, so no one can use them! Everyone else in the room yelled at him.
Montrichard was next, and something of a disappointment. It was begun in the eleventh century, and must have been pretty impressive in its day. But it is a ruin now, and you can't even get to see much of it. Most parts are roped off, including parts that obviously used to be visited not too long ago.
Time killed the next item on the itinerary – Valencay. I had spent too much time in Amboise, and Valencay was just a bit out of the way, so it had to go. Instead I went straight to Montresor, built by Fulk Nerra, who also built Montrichard. Again, most of the old parts are in ruins, but it's been 900 years or more. But it was a good site, so other people kept building there. The 14th century building is described as a ruin, but it looked OK from the outside. The main feature of the tour is the 16th century building, It's quite nice, but the current owners are descended from a Polish count who bought the castle in 1849. He then filled it with lots of Polish stuff, especially in honor of his hero, John Sobieski, who saved Vienna from the Turks. It was nice, but kind of odd to see in France.
My camera battery started to die here, so I had to husband my shots. I got all the ones I really wanted, but there were some more I could have taken. I had recharged the battery last night, but there were so many things to photograph at Amboise and Chenonceau that I hardly turned the camera off all day.
I got to tonight's stop, Loches, early and learned the one big drawback to my netbook maps, They don't have any scale. I followed the directions, but it looked like I was headed out of town. So I went to turn around at the next roundabout, and found the street I was looking for. The hotel is part of a chain, and is part hotel, part motel. I'm in the motel part, where wifi does not reach.
Their restaurant was full because they had an old car club meeting there. But the clerk gave me a good map of the town, and it was easy to get to the center of town, and back again. This is a special town, as it has a chateau, and a castle (built by guess who). I wanted to walk around a get some pictures before dinner, while I still had some light. But I had to charge the camera first.
I gave the battery a short charge, and went downtown, but hunger overcame tourism, and I stopped to eat. I wasn't sure how late the restaurants would stay open. In Amboise, on the Loire and in the main stream of tourist traffic, many of them stayed open till 9:00. But Loches is a little out of the way, and some cafes were pulling in their chairs by 7:00. So I found a place that was still open, and whose menu strongly suggested dinner, and not just lunch. The beer, Leffe, was a shrug. I don't know where it's from, but it was on tap. But the main course was delicious. I had “filet mignon de porc au St. Jacques” which is French for slices of pork surloin in a fine sauce, cooked just exactly right. It was really tasty, and there was lots of it, too.
After dinner, I did walk around the town a bit, and took a few photographs, but it was dark, and I don't know how well they came out. I'll probably take some more of the same things tomorrow, anyway.
Day 6 Wednesday, September 15
The plan for today was 2 hours to see the chateau and keep in Loches, a half hour for the keep in Montbazon, and 5 hours to see everything in Tours. But Loches was really worth seeing, and even Montbazon took some extra time, so I got to Tours about 6. It was going to be hard to squeeze 5 hours into the rest of the day.
Loches keep was built by our old friend Fulk Nerra, and was owned by Henry II and Richard I of England. It's a big keep, though the roof and all the floors fell in long ago. But they put in a metal staircase to supplement the original stairs that are still safe, and you can climb right to the very top. One part of the original stairs is the narrowest spiral stairs I've ever seen. Not narrow side to side, narrow back to front. I took a picture of my feet on one of them, with my right heel against the riser and my toes hanging in air. My left foot is turned sideways, since that was the only way it would fit on the step.
There's another tower, built by Louis XI, that is also pretty nice. You can go down into the “prison” underground, which was probably originally a storeroom or milling room. There were definitely prisoners upstairs in the tower, because they left some nice artwork on the walls in their spare time.
There's another short tower, short because a lot of its height was buried to raise the level of the courtyard. Not that the inhabitants cared – they were prisoners, too. You go down a long way to the first cells, and there are a lot of them. One large cell was where they locked up Ludovico Sforza, the duke of Milan. He actually painted designs on the walls. They make a big deal of this, mainly because he was da Vinci's patron, but it's not really art. Other cells were smaller, and sometimes connected one after another. There was an iron grill across the opening of one side cell, and total darkness beyond. So I used the flash to see what the room looked like – and there was another grill and another cell beyond! Loches was actually still used as a French prison until 1927.
The chateau was smallish. Charles VI built it as a hunting lodge, and it never grew, although it was used by lots of other kings. The oldest part is a tower from about 1250 that was all they left of the old castle when they built the lodge. It looks nice, but there is no access to it. The nicest room was at the end of the chateau, Anne of Brittany's chapel. It is covered in stone ermine tails and has a beautiful glazed floor.
Since Charles VII also spent time here, with Agnes Sorel, they devoted one room to her, and especially the cause of her death. At the time, it was described as a “flux in the stomach”. Everyone took that to mean poison, and a friend of hers was actually charged. He got off, and the next most likely suspect being the king's son, the matter was dropped.
She was buried in the church next door, but during the revolution her tomb was broken up. The funeral statue looked too much like a saint, so they smashed it to bits, The pieces were saved and later repaired perfectly, and eventually her bones were put back under it in the church again. And while the academics had access to her bones, they decided to find out what killed her. There was no arsenic, but a lot of mercury, ingested over quite a long while. She apparently had tape-worms, and mercury was considered a cure for worms, so she poisoned herself.
The church next door is interesting, not just for her tomb, but for the unusual roof. In place of the usual vaulted ceiling over the nave, there are two pyramidal roofs sticking up. It looks rather odd. The church was built by Fulk Nerra's father (Fulk couldn't build everything, and he specialized in castles, anyway).
Instead of leaving Loches at 11 or 12, it was now 2 in the afternoon, and I was way behind schedule. Oh, well. I came to see castles, and I wasn't going to miss any nice ones if I could help it.
Montbazon was next, an old castle high above the town. There's a sign on the street below, or you'd never see the little lane leading up to it. It's a big castle, home to the Black Falcon but that's just spin. It was really built by good old Fulk Nerra, on someone else's land, but that didn't stop him. He lost it after three years, and got it back decades later, just before he died. Again, all the floors are gone, and you just stand in the lower level and look around. Most of the rest of the castle is gone, along with the later buildings on the site. In the 1740's the duke decided his mansion wasn't worth repairing, so he tore it down, and donated the stones to building a new road.
Somehow the keep remained. The French revolutionaries wanted to tear it all down, but were dissuaded. That didn't matter, because a couple of years later it was hit by lightning and the wall was seriously cracked. An American officer, wounded in the First World War, saw the ruins and bought the place to restore it. So it's been patched up a bit, but still a bit disappointing. I was hoping for more than a shell.
They do have some underground rooms, too. Like Loches, the underground rooms began as a convenient quarry for stone to build the castle. One of the tunnels at Montbazon goes to the church in town, and there are others they are still exploring and excavating.
On the way to Tours, I got caught in a traffic jam. It stretched from the middle of one town to the edge of the town next to it. They were doing some road work, and only let a few vehicles go past from each side at a time. Surprisingly, the backup on the other side was nowhere near as long.
Coming in to Tours, my notes to find the hotel, said “go mostly north, but check the map” which assumed I could get to Google maps. Which I couldn't in the car. The map part I had put on the netbook was only the last bit, not how to get there. I had the detailed instructions there, and studied them, and made the wrong turn anyway. I think I know which turn I should have taken, but I confused myself, and took another.
Tours is located between the rivers Loire and Cher, and I had just crossed the Cher when I had a chance to get off the highway and check my maps. I figured from the road numbers that I had just crossed the westernmost bridge over the Cher. And as near as I could guess, I should have used the one two bridges down. I went down, and turned, and indeed it was the right street. I freely admit to having a lot of luck on that one.
As I said, it was already 6 o'clock, and I wasn't going to see everything I wanted tonight. But what I wanted to see was the old town, and the cathedral, and the St. Julien quarter, and maybe the cathedral quarter. I parked in right next to the church of St. Julien, and saw some of that quarter. I then went down the street a few blocks to the old city, and wandered around there for an hour. There are lots of old, interesting buildings here, many of them half-timbered. It's really beautiful.
I stopped sight-seeing at 8 because I was getting hungry and the sun was going down. I did spend some time choosing a place to eat, but even so, I was surprised to see that I paid my bill at 9:30. And the restaurants were still full of people, One advertised it stayed open until 12:30. There were people, mostly young, everywhere, coming and going, and just having a good time.
Dinner was terrine de compagne, lamb on brochette, and apple tart. Everything was delicious, although the tart had a crust that my spoon couldn't cut. The lamb came with frites, but they were more like french fries than pommes frites. Still, it was a good meal after a good day.
Day 7 Thursday, September 16
I had already seen a lot of old Tours last night, so I headed in the other direction, toward the cathedral. I checked out a couple of old streets on the way, including the Street of the Broken Heart. Michelin says it was an old thieves' alley; the official town sign says it was the route taken to the gallows or the stocks. Either way, it is a completely covered passageway between two buildings, still in use as a back way in to peoples' houses.
The chateau is late and very plain, but it has a couple of nice medieval turrets still attached to it. Being plain, I didn't go in. But down the street was the cathedral, built in every known style of Gothic. The front is fantastic, just a wedding cake of tracery and arches. A lot of the stained glass inside is old, thirteenth through fifteenth centuries. Unfortunately, some of the really nice looking pieces are at the top of the apse, and I couldn't focus on them well enough to get any pictures. But I think I got a good picture of the rose window at the west end. I took one of the rose window in the south transept, and it may come out OK. The north transept is entirely closed off for restoration work.
The cathedral is gorgeous, inside and out. If you look, you can see the difference between the stages of Gothic, but it doesn't jar, as Gothic and Romanesque sometimes does. The buttresses are impressive, especially one by the north transept. That face of the cathedral is shrouded for the restoration work, but one flying buttress flies so far out from the building that it sticks out of the shroud, and ends up on the other side of the street.
Today's schedule was packed full, and I had to add a couple of hours in Tours to it. No problem, just drop some more stops. The first stop, Luynes, was also the first to get the ax. It has some half-timbered houses and a nice castle, but the castle didn't get high ratings, so out it went. Then, as I was driving past the town, I thought, “Oh, why not stop?” I was only going to go the castle, and did. It's a round-about drive from the highway; you have to climb up a bit. I got there, turned in and saw the “Closed” sign. Well, I didn't spend too much time driving up to it, and it was on the way to Langeais.
Langeais has a really beautiful castle, built by Louis XI to guard against attacks from Brittany. (No, Fulk Nerra did not build it, but he did build the earlier castle on the site, a couple of walls of which are still standing on the grounds.) Like most of these castles and chateaux, it's been restored, but with a great deal of care. The tile floors are not original, and I don't know if they're copied from the originals, but they look perfect for the castle. One of the nice things about the castle is at the top. The ramparts are enclosed, and you can walk all the way around. They seem to have murder holes all the way around, but most are covered by planks for safety.
Langeais is where Louis' son Charles VIII married Anne of Brittany, thus ending the threat of invasion, and guaranteeing French possession of Brittany. To commemorate this, they have a room set up with mannequins in period clothes, representing the wedding. It's not bad, but it is tied into an audio-visual show. Each figure is lit only when it is being talked about. Occasionally, the whole scene is lit, but by the time you get your camera aimed, some of the lights go out. The show runs every 15 minutes, for about 7 minutes. So I waited for the end, and the regular lights came up and lit up the whole scene, except for the happy couple. They were in a sort of shadow for some reason. I took a picture anyway, and it's better than nothing, but I would have preferred a better lit scene.
After Langeais I was supposed to go to Villandry, but the main attraction there were the gardens, and I didn't want to see them, so I skipped it. That brought me to Azay le Rideau, which I had seen on castle calendars for some time. It's a proper chateau, but they kept the form of the original castle. You can walk around the whole thing and photograph it from every angle, and they are all good.
Azay le Rideau was built by a financier for Francis I (whose salamander is all over the place). He was aided in his career by one of his relatives, who was Superintendent of Finances to the king. When the relative was executed for corruption, the financier fled the country. Francis I seized the castle and gave it to someone he trusted more.
The outside is beautiful, medieval in layout, but Renaissance in style. Inside is one of the first big straight staircases in France. The floors are beautiful, whether tiled or wooden. The windows have individual shutters for each section of glass. And on some of them, the lower shutters have little extra shutters, so you can open up a little peep-hole to look out.
The one odd thing is what they did with the kitchen and pantry in the nineteenth century. They raised the floor about 3 feet, but left the huge fireplace, and a sink that connects the two rooms, at their original level. It looks very odd.
After Azay le Rideau, I went to the chateau of Usse. This was the most expensive chateau I've been in – 14 euros. It looks really nice from the outside, but the inside is nothing special. A countess who lived there in the late eighteenth century added a nice wooden spiral staircase, just for looks. But a lot of the rest is pretty ordinary. I did take pictures there, until my battery died again. Can you guess that I'm taking an awful lot of pictures? I was trying to be careful, and turn off the camera between shots, but there were too many times when one photo followed right after another.
The bad thing about that is that it meant I had to skip the castle at Le Rivau. It looks really nice in the pictures, though their website makes it look like they're trying to milk the medieval thing for all it's worth. But, still, it's a real castle, and complete, so I would have liked to see it, But with no camera, and the hour getting late – the guided tour takes an hour, they close at 6, and it was already 5 – I had to skip it. Which got me to Chinon from the wrong direction for my map and instructions.
This could have been a huge disaster, but by chance my new approach route intersected the old one just beyond where I stopped to check the map. I still had to circle one block a couple of times, trying to find how to get into the Place Jeanne d'Arc. But I managed, and the hotel was right where I expected it to be. This is the Hotel Diderot, one of a list Winifred gave me. A wonderful old building, with very friendly owners.
I charged up the camera enough to walk around town before dinner, and it's delightful. Lots of old stone and half-timbered buildings. The house where the Estates General met in 1428 is now the town museum. I kept running into signs telling me that a very important gate used to be on this spot - I don't think they have any of the old fortifications left, except the castle. I haven't seen it yet, that's for tomorrow.
I found a good restaurant, one recommended by the hotel. A little pricier than I have usually tried (though their other suggestion was even more expensive), but the food was good. A nice house terrine, and a steak. I asked for it medium-rare, and I got it medium-rare, grilled and very tasty. The last two nights, I've had a terrine for starters, and both times it came with a pickle. French pickles taste strongly of vinegar – it's not bad, but not what I expect from a pickle.
I've got five sites to visit tomorrow, but my time estimate (ha!) is only 7 hours. So I may try to fit Le Riveau in to start. Of course, first I have to visit the castle here in Chinon, and that could take a while.
It rained almost all day yesterday, and was very cool. It cleared up by late afternoon, so I could walk around Tours without a problem. Today was cloudy early then clearing, and cool, but dry. It's mostly been sunny, and warm enough. Overall, it's been a lot of fun so far. I've had very few problems driving in the country (though I have had to stop occasionally to check the map), but city driving is always a problem. It would be a lot easier in town and country if they would only put up signs telling you what street or highway you are on. In town, it's especially bad, because I don't have detailed maps of the towns. In the countryside, you can tell if you're on the right road by checking what village should be coming up next. If it's there, then you're on the right road. But it's not been that bad. Those of you who have traveled with me before would be surprised at how calm I've been. Mostly.
Day 8 Friday, September 17
The Michelin guide says Chinon castle should take 1 hour to see. Ha! No Inspector General of Fortifications could possibly do so slap-dash a job. I thought it might stretch to 2 hours, but it was actually about two and a half. That does include going through every room, and every level of every tower. If they let me in, I went in. The towers are very odd – you don't go up into them, you go down. They're built into the side of the hill, and the hill is so high that the tower tops can reach the hilltop and then just stop. So for the first time ever, I explored castle towers by going down, instead of up.
Mind you, it's just as tiring to go down and then up, as it is to go up and then down. But it was worth it; Chinon is beautiful. Everyone took turns building something here. Fulk Nerra (they call him Fulk IV, to make him sound better) put up something, and left the place to his descendant, Henry II, who put up more. Then John went and lost it all to Philippe Augustus, who built more, and so on.
If I had been really thorough, I would have gone around at ground level, because there are some interesting architectural details there. But there just wasn't time. They give you a guidebook with a computer chip in it. Press the book against a special mark, and a recording tells you something about the place. I didn't use it, mainly because I didn't see the marks until I was leaving. They also have a room with a number of computer kiosks that provide information. And that was OK.
What wasn't OK was the whole series of rooms taken up with short historical melodramas about the history of Chinon, and the big names who lived there. They didn't have any Plantagenet-era furniture, or any other, for that matter. And I guess they felt they had to put something in all those rooms. But it was annoying to see room after room filled with an amateur production of “Lion in Winter.” One room was especially bad; all the lights were out and all the window shutters were closed except one. I could hardly see to go down the short staircase, so I opened some of the shutters. There was no show going on, and no screen for one. Coming back through later, I saw they were projecting right onto the bare wall, and the window light didn't hurt anything.
I got some more lunch food at Chinon, and, going into the store, I the left earpiece off my reading glasses. I had thought about bringing a spare pair, but decided against it. Packed in with everything else in my suitcase, they might get broken, anyway. That's what happened to my sunglasses, but only half of the earpiece broke off, and what's left still hugs my head alright. I have tried wearing my reading glasses with only one earpiece, and it doesn't work very well. I thought about gluing the piece back on, but couldn't see well enough to even put the pieces together. So I went to a pharmacy and bought a fairly ugly pair of reading glasses. Ugly is OK, I can't see them when I'm wearing them; it's other people that have to put up with them.
After Henry's castle, I went to Henry's tomb at Fontevraud. The church was plainer on the outside than I expected, but inside was nice. I took pictures of everyone, of course. I was surprised that Henry was clean-shaven, though Richard had a beard. I would have expected both to be bearded.
I was already getting tired, so I didn't see everything at Fontevraud, but I did look around the cloister a little, and checked out the kitchen. Every arch in the cloister has a little decoration at the bottom end, by the wall. And every few feet around the roof line of the kitchen is another little decoration. And there are no duplicates. Each and every one is unique.
I got a deal at Fontevraud, a reduced price on tickets to Fontevraud and Montsoreau, which I was going to next, anyway. Montsoreau is famous for the the Dumas novel “La Dame de Montsoreau”, which they sell in the gift shop, of course. The castle is an old medieval one, originally built by some Viking (and not Fulk Nerra). The later medieval version is obvious from the outside, but in the fifteenth century the inside was made more liveable.
This castle also doesn't have a lot of furniture to fill it's rooms, so it is filled with models of boats, and stuff that boats carry, and stuff found in the rivers. All this because it is at the juncture of the Loire and the Vienne rivers. They also have an audio-visual debate between Dumas and the main characters in his novel. It's a shame they do this, because the castle really is nice. The view of the rivers from the tower tops is especially fine.
I wasn't sure how to get in when I arrived. There was an obvious path leading up the hill on one side, but a family that got there just ahead of me was going up a grassy slope. I walked over to see if they could be right, and yep, they were. There were two big signs pointing up the grassy slope, and saying “Entrance”.
I got a picture of a grey cat here, and almost got one of a tabby, but he must have heard the dinner bell, because he was off like a shot before I could get the camera ready. I got a picture of a cat sitting on a restaurant table - he didn't twitch a whisker while I did, either. I got two white cats in a display window. There was only one at first, and I thought he might be stuffed or fake, but he turned his head to look at me. So I got his picture, and his buddy's, too, when he showed up. I wanted to get a picture of a ginger cat eating some potted plant setting on the ground. But he finished before I could get the camera focused, and when he saw me, he hurried up the street.
Anyway, Montreuil-Bellay was next on my schedule, and I was even more tired. My legs can take the walking, though they have requested that I don't do so much stair climbing. But the feet are ready to revolt. They have to hit the ground all the time, and they're not liking it one bit. My shoes are comfortable enough, it's just all the walking. I didn't have this trouble in Ireland, and I used to go out for a walk to smoke after dinner just about every night.
The other problem was time. The tours are guided, and I wouldn't get there in time for the last tour of the day. So skip that one, and the stop after it, because it was now too far out of the way. On to Saumur, again from a different direction than my instructions envisioned. It didn't matter, really. My new route and my old route intersected once again. Saumur is on both banks of the Loire, and on an island in the middle. All I had to do was cross to the far bank, go a block and turn to find the hotel.
I found it, about the fourth time I passed it. I kept looking for the street one block north of the bridge, and kept not finding it. Finally, instead of turning right to circle the block, I turned left and found my street. I followed it to the bridge and discovered it was right at the bridge, not a block north. I learned later, coming back from dinner, where I made my mistake. There are two roundabouts as you get off the bridge, and I had forgotten about the first one. If I count that one, the second roundabout is a short block north of the bridge.
After a little rest, I went out to look at Saumur. Michelin talked about all the fine old houses, but I didn't see that many. The street they especially recommended actually was the least thrilling of all. But I could see the castle from time to time, and it's nice. And there were some good half-timbered buildings. I even had dinner at one. Smoked duck and mushrooms for starters, then beef burgignon and chocalate mousse, and another indifferent beer.
On Wednesday night in Tours, it was like the party of all time. Everything was open, and people were going everywhere. The last two nights have been completely different. Restaurants are closing early, by 9 the streets are almost empty. The place I ate tonight didn't have any reason to complain, though. About 8:30 a party of 19 Chinese people came in – that'll pay the rent for this month.
Tomorrow is the castle here in Saumur, Angers and Nantes. I've already cancelled two other stops at places that weren't that exciting. I've got to get back on schedule, because after Nantes I stay in Lemans. The next day after that is the long drive to Mont St. Michel, and I don't want to be late there.
Day 9 Saturday, September 18.
It was going to be a day of castles, no cathedrals, no abbeys, no frilly chateaux – castles! I started with the castle in Saumur which is one of the most perfect looking castles you could imagine. It has tall towers and high walls, and sits way up on top of the bluff. It is beautiful, until you go in. Today was “free day” at all government owned castles in France (tomorrow too), which was good, because I'd have hated to pay to see so little.
Not counting the toilets, you can go into exactly two rooms in the castle. One is the well, with a nice, big windlass to raise the bucket. The other is a decent sized room displaying a collection of faience. The pottery was nice, if out of place, but that was it. Everywhere you look in the courtyard, you see boarded up windows, and big metal bars bracing up the stonework. I don't know what happened, but it was a real letdown.
What made it worse was that I had the second car in the parking lot. I got there about 9:15, and went looking for the way in. I walked around an out-building and saw the sign at the ticket window – open at 10. I spent more time outside waiting for it to open than I spent inside.
On the plus side, it did make it easier to get the next two stops in. I took the tourist route to Angers. I had originally planned a stop at Boumois on the way to Angers, and I didn't change my route when I dropped Boumois. It would have been faster to take the motorway, but I didn't think about that. I also didn't think about the high probability of finding gas on the motorway.
Yes, once again I was running low. I should have filled up in Saumur, but I forgot. This is easy to do when most of the gas stations are in newer parts of the towns. But I wasn't that low, and made it to Angers, where I drove around and around, looking for a gas station. I finally found one, and then had to find my way to the castle.
No problem, just follow the signs to the center of town. Except that it didn't seem to do any good. I kept following the signs, and going in circles, and didn't see a single sign for the castle or the cathedral. How could this be? Then, on one of my circuits, I tried a different turn, and found myself going across the river Maine, and the sign named the district I was entering. Now I knew where I was. The Michelin guidebook map showed this area, and I saw that I was about a mile east of where I wanted to be. There are two long, straight main streets in Angers, running parallel to one another, and I had been on the wrong one. Before long I was by the castle, looking for a place to park. I finally got the last one across the street from the castle.
Angers is another beautiful castle on the outside, and this time the inside was almost as good. I say almost, because the ducal residence hall is being restored, and totally wrapped up. But there's still lots to see- the chapel is nice, the ramparts are long and give a good view. Very enjoyable, and worth coming back to, when they finish their restoration work.
Next was Nantes, and this time I did take the motorway – zoom, zoom! I left Angers around 3 and got to Nantes before 4, without any idea of how to find the castle. I just followed the signs for City Center, but it was beginning to look like the wrong plan. Then I saw a tower, and knew I was close. Now the problem was to find a place to park, not too far from the castle.
You have no idea how easy your lives are. People don't go out of their way to put on street carnivals in the places you want to visit, right next to those places, too. There were no parking places anywhere near the castle. One signboard reported on the parking availability of 3 different lots, all full. I drove around for a while, trying to stay close to the castle so as not to get lost. Then, running past the castle for a try from a different angle, I saw a sign saying there were still spots at the train station parking lot. It's about 2 blocks from the castle, but that wasn't too bad under the circumstances.
A word about French driving customs. Pedestrians have the right of way, as long as they have a crosswalk and a green walk signal. In fact, if there is no signal, but there is a crosswalk, they always have the right of way. No matter how slow traffic is, everyone stops for a pedestrian crossing the street. Which is what made the carnival so frustrating. It filled two big, adjacent squares, with a main street running in between them. It was almost impossible to drive that stretch of road, because people were moving from one half of the carnival to the other without worrying about little things like crosswalks or traffic lights. Sheer madness.
It was now about 5 when I got to the castle., but they were open till 7, so I wasn't worried. I took some pictures in the courtyard, then had to ask where the way in was for the castle proper. I went in and started the tour. They let people into the interior in small groups, so I had to wait for them to let us proceed. Then half of our group was held up in room 1 while the others were watching a film in room 2. When I got to room 2, I noticed the film was in French, and went up the stairs. They have a lot of stuff there about the history and development of Nantes, sort of a municipal history museum. Which, of course, was not what I wanted. Then, about halfway through, they threw me out!
How dare they! Did they not know who I was? Were they not aware that heads could roll for something like this? The guard's excuse was pretty thin, too – It's closing time. Yes, the castle grounds and courtyard, and walls for that matter, were open to 7, but the inside closed at 6. I didn't mind missing the local history stuff, because most of it was fairly recent. But the castle is very nice, with some little touches I haven't seen elsewhere. In one room, there are steps going up to a window, and on each side, three steps each have a window seat. On one of the spiral stairs, there are some window seats built into the outside wall.
So I finished up with a good circuit of the ramparts, and then back to the car park. I still had to find my hotel, and I had no idea where it was. But I had the map on the computer. And there it was , about a block from the cathedral and the street carnival! Surprisingly, by this time (almost 7), the heavy traffic, both car and pedestrian, had fallen off. I found my street right away, and yes, it was luck. The hotel was number 36, and I saw number 38, and assumed 36 was to the left, so I turned that way. On my next pass, I saw where it was, and, circling again, found a place to park about a block away.
I got my room, and started out for dinner. The clerk said look near the castle. He should have said “the other side of the castle”, because that's where all the restaurants in the world are. Unfortunately, they're mostly creperies, pizzarias, or kebab joints. I did find a nice place, finally, and say down at the only empty table outside. Then I waited for a menu, or a waiter, or anything. It must have been 10 minutes, maybe 15, before the waitress noticed me.
She was surprised I ordered just a main course, and no starters. But I still hadn't seen a menu. I ordered off a chalk-board on the street. I noticed the starters list on the wall, later. I was upset about the slow service, until I realized that she was the only waitress for the entire outside business, at least 12 tables. And she might have been doing some of the inside work, too. The woman tending bar was also the cashier, and the busboy. And once they noticed me, the service was fast. I had veal escallope gorgonzola, with walnuts, which was very good.
Day 10 Sunday, September 19.
I was out and on the road reasonably early this morning and got on the motorway to make better time. I also realized that the times on my Google mapping of the routes assumed I was using the motorway when I could. A quick run from Nantes to near Angers, turn off and head north to Le Plessis-Mace. But I hadn't checked which exit to use, and got off one turn too soon. It was a slower local road, but it went pretty straight to Le Plessis-Mace, and the right road, while faster, would have been longer. No matter, I scheduled an hour for the trip, and it took an hour.
This was a pretty nice castle. They still have the original motte, and the impressive ruins of a medieval keep sitting on top of it. There's a nice gatehouse, and the “modern” fifteenth century house, with a beautiful balcony. They have replaced a couple of spiral staircases with modern concrete ones to accommodate the tourists. For the same reason, they have an elevator in one building.
It is a very nice place, except for one thing. They don't let you take pictures of any sort, flash or not, in any part of the fifteenth century building. This is a shame, because it has some very nice rooms, and furniture. And a fantastic chapel. Half the chapel is wood paneled or decorated. It is to die for, but I can't show you any pictures. They have staff in every room keeping an eye out for the sneaky shutterbug, so I couldn't even try. The staff were interesting, as they were all dressed in some sort of medieval garb. The lady at the gate in the off-the-shoulder dress had to keep her cloak tightly wrapped around her in the chilly morning.
Durtal was next. I missed what I thought was the right place to turn (it was), but ended up at the bottom of the castle, instead of the top. I climbed up and found the entrance, and the sign that said 9-12:30, 2-6. It was now 12:50. I could wait for an hour, and then take the hour long guided tour, or I could leave. I left. Castles are important, but so are schedules.
Bazouges was my next stop (and no, I am not just making up funny names for these places). There was one sign in town directing me down a side road. I came to a fork and neither looked like there was a castle at the end. I turned right, and it was wrong. I went back and tried the other fork. I found a sign for the castle, but no arrow. So I went straight, down the sort of narrow lane that almost certainly does not have a castle at the end. I finally got to a place to turn around and went back. The other turning was the way, just a short drive to the gate. The closed gate. By the sign that said “The castle is privately owned, tours are by regularly scheduled hours only.” That means it was closed today.
I had now saved over an hour by not being able to see these two castles. I would surely have plenty of time for Le Mans, and I did. My hotel was in the center of town, not too far from the cathedral and the old town. I had a good Google map, and I followed it really well. But the last two blocks got me.
A sign for the hotel, pointing sort of left, sort of ahead, led me to turn left. Wrong. On my next pass, after checking the netbook map, I decided I needed to go down one block and turn right. Wrong. On the next pass, I made it two blocks. I would have turned right, but there were streetcar tracks there, and you can't drive down the tracks. But I did see that the street name was the right one. Then, trying to go around the block, I mad a wrong turn and got lost in a pedestrian zone. I don't know how I got in, and couldn't find any opening to get out. Some French pedestrian zones are on the honor system; this one had barricades. I finally stumbled on a friendly native letting some other trapped driver out, and followed along.
Well, I found my way back to the neighborhood of the hotel, and tried again. This time, as I passed the entrance to the street, I saw there was a car lane next to the streetcar tracks. I promptly did a very illegal U-turn, drove 50 meters the wrong way up the street, and turned into the street I wanted. I found a place to park that is free for overnight, and got my room.
It's Sunday, and I asked the hotel clerk about restaurants. She didn't think any were open, but suggested a couple (nope) and pointed out a street two blocks over with lots of restaurants. She gave me a nice map, and I set off for the cathedral.
The cathedral is the high point of the city in the guidebook, and rightly so. The front is a very bland romanesque, and the outside of the nave isn't very interesting either. The west door was built at the same time as Chartres, and there are some definite similarities. It was very hard to photograph, as it had bright sunlight mixed with deep shadows. The real beauty of the exterior was the apse – great, graceful flying buttresses, and high windows. Wonderful.
Inside it was even more wonderful. The uninteresting nave walls had romanesque stained glass windows. The light coming through the upper windows around the apse made the whole sanctuary are look pink. There's a very nice, painted chapel right behind the high altar. The nave is high, with beautiful vaulting, and the transept is identical, even the height. There's usually some difference between the nave and the transept: they're not the same height, or there's a dome or a square to join them together. Here, they are even, and it makes the transept look higher and more open than in most cathedrals.
After the cathedral, I went looking for old houses and dinner, not necessarily in that order. The old part of town was easy to find – the cathedral was in it. There were lots of nice old buildings, many of them half-timbered. It was hard to get pictures of some of them because the streets are so narrow. But I did well enough with most of them. Dinner was harder. I passed some nice looking places, including those the clerk mentioned, but they were all closed.
So I wandered on, going through street after street, mostly toward my hotel. And nothing. I figured that, if all else failed, I could eat at the hotel, the first one I've been at that had a restaurant attached. Closed Sundays. Then I remembered the nearby street she had also mentioned. I went up two blocks, and turned down a street that looked very closed. But about halfway down, I found a restaurant that said it was open 7 days a week. They were empty, but were happy to give me a seat in the window, where I could attract more business.
I didn't like any of their fixed price menus, so I splurged and ordered a la carte. A nice terrine, tournedos of beef (filet mignon to you), and an ice cream sundae for dessert. The best part of dinner was the other couple they put on display in the window. They were from England, and we chatted a bit during dinner. And that was very nice.
Day 11 Monday, September 20.
I don't know what happened to the day. I started out early enough, a little later than I planned, but not much. And I had no trouble getting out of Le Mans. And I decided to skip Pouance, because it was out of the way, and skipping it would mean I would definitely have time for Fort La Latte, and get to Mont St. Michel before evening.
But somehow the time dribbled away. I had scheduled an hour in Laval to look at the castle and the town, which was probably optimistic. I actually spent an hour on just the town, but that was OK because the castle is closed on Mondays. So were most of the stores – good thing I wasn't in need of clothes or jewelry or anything. The old town was nice, as they usually are. The cathedral is rather plain, but has an incredibly ornate backstop behind the altar. It doesn't have much stained glass, but it does have 6 tapestries on the walls of the nave, telling the story of Judith and Holofernes.
I had scheduled an hour, and I had spent an hour, so I should still have been doing well on time. I had to follow a maze of one-way streets to get out of Laval, but I didn't get lost. The motorway was fast and the traffic was moderate. I did waste some time getting off twice to try to find someplace to get fixings for lunch, and to get gas. So that did cost me some time, but not all that much. Of course, when I did find a supermarket with a gas station attached, I not only bought stuff for lunch, I ate some of it.
It was now 2:30, and I wanted to leave Fort La Latte by 4:00, or 4:30 at latest. I was still 60 or 70 kilometers from the castle, and wasn't sure I could do it. But I decided to try. I was doing fine until I hit St. Malo. The view over the estuary of the river was very beautiful. And I had lots of time to admire it, waiting for the traffic light at the end of the bridge to change several times. Shortly after getting off the bridge, I saw a turning for the next town on my route, so I turned. Wrong. The road did not look like the major road on the map, and when I had a chance to pull over and check, I discovered I was going south instead of west.
It was now after 3:30, and I still had at least 30 kilometers to go to Fort La Latte, some of it on back roads. I decided that I couldn't do it and get to Mont St. Michel as early as I wanted. So when I got back to the main road, I headed east, to Mont St. Michel. I got there around 5, but I couldn't get in. The hotel guests have a special parking area reserved for them, with a keypad code controlling access. I had a number labeled “Auto” on my confirmation form, so I entered it. It didn't work. I tried again, and again, and again. Finally, there was someone else behind me, so I pulled out of his way. He went in without a problem. I got out of my car and tried again, when an American drove up and punched his code in. As the gate went up, he told me his code. It worked just fine.
Some people have special talents they are born with, capable of doing things no one else can do, even with training. My special talent is not seeing hotels. I have mentioned earlier how I have passed by my hotel in two or three towns. But Mont St. Michel is different. You can't drive on the island, you walk. And there's only one road, so how could I possibly miss my hotel? I did.
The Mouton Blanc said it was at the base of the abbey, and since the abbey is at the very top of the mont, the hotel should be pretty high up. I had just got to the stairs, huffing and puffing, when it occurred to me to ask just where the hotel was. It looked like I had run out of hotel territory ( I had), and I didn't want to keep going if I was heading wrong. And it was indeed further down the hill. The street was packed with people when I came in, and dodging through the crowd, I must have missed the sign.
So I got checked in, and shown to my room in the annex up the street (and they mean that literally here). It was after 5:30 when I was freshened up and ready to go out, and the abbey closes at 6, so that will have to wait for tomorrow. I made up for that by taking a walk around the ramparts. I started up near the top, and wound up down by the entrance. Excellent ramparts – one small embrasure had both an arrow slit and a murder hole. There are some really nice looking buildings in the town, but the street is so narrow, it's hard to get a picture of anything.
Winifred, next time you see Crinan and Sara, beat them with something really hard. They cheated you out of a real treat. The abbey is beautiful, and I haven't even seen the inside yet. The town is fantastic. Seeing the narrow street packed with people made it look so medieval (except for the clothes, of course). The street is so narrow, I think this must be the only old town district in France that does not have sidewalk cafes – because there's no room for them. It is also the only one with defibrillators. I saw two hanging on the walls along the street, and there might be more.
I had dinner at my hotel dining room, mainly because the price wasn't outrageous, and the choices were good. I had duck fois gras for starters, and a BIG lamb chop, followed with an apple tart. Lots of the hotels and other restaurants have similar menus. In fact, some have identical menus. Madame Foulard made her reputation with omelettes, and now every restaurant in town serves traditional Mont St. Michel omelettes. The Foulard family seems to own half the businesses in town, which may explain some of the above similarity.
Day 12 Tuesday, September 21.
I went through the town last night, and I went through the abbey today, so I've seen Mont St. Michel. This does not mean I don't want to go back. It is an incredible place, even with all the tourists. I just have to remember to come back while I can still climb steep roads and stairs. It was harder yesterday, even though I had been driving most of the day. But today, early on, I was maybe better refreshed. Even so, I didn't repeat the rampart walk.
Going around the ramparts yesterday, I saw something I didn't understand. There was a long stone trackway running down the side of the abbey, with what looked like a sled up at the top. I couldn't figure out what it was. Today, I saw the treadmill powered wheel that they used to haul provisions up that trackway. Nowadays, just about everything comes into the town in someone's arms or pushcart, or by forklift. I did see a car today, picking up some stuff at one of the shops at the bottom of the mont. But most deliveries and all trash collection is by a forklift with a big bin. It barely fits through the street, and the driver drives it backward down the street!
There were a lot of Japanese tourists here, and it's regular enough that some of the hotels and restaurants have signs in Japanese. One group came up the street with the guide speaking into a walkie-talkie sort of thing, and all the people in the group were listening in on small headphones. Pretty nice idea, especially as they were strung out quite a bit because of the narrow street.
Most of the groups were either well ahead of me, or well behind me in the abbey, except for one group of English students with two teachers. I was usually able to keep ahead of them, because the main teacher was giving them a good talk about everything they saw. But once in a while I would dawdle too long in a room, and they would catch up. They weren't obnoxious, but they did often block the route out of the room, and I'd have to push through them. And there were two couples who each insisted on taking pictures of each other in front of everything. They also did not notice that I was trying to take pictures of something besides them.
There was one very morose looking Oriental fellow. I saw him at dinner last night, and at breakfast this morning. I don't know if he was from the Orient, or was from some western country, But he seemed uncomfortable and lost. He looked like someone had persuaded him to go to France, and he was having trouble remembering why that seemed to be a good idea. But he had his camera, and was busy taking pictures of everything, just like the rest of us.
Next stop was Coutances, which has a beautiful cathedral. But this was not a good day to be on the road. Fairly early in my drive, the traffic on the motorway stopped. There was obviously an accident up ahead, but who knew where? A big sign pointed out the next exit, 800 meters ahead, so everyone started crowding into the right hand lane. Then two emergency vehicles zipped past on the shoulder, and blocked off the accident. Turns out it was just a little ways up the road, and in the right lane. So everyone shifts lanes again, and we creep past the wreck. There was a semi tractor on the side of the road, pointing straight across the road. There was also a semi tractor with trailer, and a car pulling a camper, but neither of these seemed damaged.
So that didn't delay things too much. Then we get to the spot where the divided highway becomes a proper motorway, and it was closed. They took all this nice, free-flowing traffic and put it on a regular road. It was a good road, and we moved pretty fast for a long time. Then we stopped. The backup was literally miles long. We crawled along, sometimes getting up into second gear before stopping again. I assumed there was another accident, and it was just taking a long time to clear the road. Wrong.
I was trying to get to the town of Villedieu-les-Poeles, where I would turn off for Coutances. It's not a small town, but it's not that big, either. The road we were on was one lane each way, and stayed that way in town, except for the left turn lane at the traffic light. Yes, there was a traffic light in the town, and it was holding up all the traffic that usually zipped past on the motorway. Once past the light, the traffic flowed freely again. I know this because I missed my turning. The road to Coutances was only marked on one side of the intersection.
The country in western Normandy is hilly, with lots of ups and downs and twisty roads. This was useful to me, because we were on a hilltop about 2 miles from Coutances when I saw the cathedral and another big church, sitting on top of the next hill over. I followed the city center signs, and the guidebook map, and the steeples, and grabbed the last parking space in town. (Tuesday is market day here.) And it was right next to a big church. I took a couple of pictures of a nice facade, then went in. The guidebook didn't bother naming the cathedral, but on the map it showed it as being two blocks from St. Pierre church. And this church had a nice little sign welcoming you to St. Pierre.
But I had seen the two churches close together, and I went out and looked, and there, two blocks away was a much nicer church. The front facade is gorgeous, with all sorts of Gothic tracery and decoration. And the steeples are very tall, and there is a lantern tower over the transept that is just as tall. Inside is also beautiful. The window in the north transept is thirteenth century, and the south has fourteenth century glass. It was well worth all the waiting.
A short distance from Coutances is the village of Gratot, which has a ruined castle. The afternoon was slipping away, but it was nearby, so I went. It is one of the loveliest ruins I've seen in a long time. Several years ago, a bunch of people formed an organization to buy and restore the castle, and they are doing a great job. They have an exhibit set up in a side building showing what they started with and how they've repaired it. When they took over, the castle was almost entirely covered in vines. You could hardly recognize it as a castle.
Now, all the vines are gone, the moat has been dredged, the accumulated dirt and debris have been removed. The gate, a tower near it and the low buildings that fill in that side face the remains of the late period castle/mansion. It has defensive towers, but the layout is more residential. The back wall of this building is missing, as well as the roof. There are still three attached towers, and the spiral stairs have mostly been repaired, so you can climb to the top. And I did, except for the small side tower that was attached to the big front tower. It was a little tower, and had a little staircase, and narrow, and not well lit, so I gave it a pass.
These people have the right idea about running a ruined castle. It's entirely self-service. No ticket taker, no guides, no daily expenses at all. You put your money in a slot in the wall of the gateway. You can take a guidebook if you want, in all the popular languages, and they ask politely that you return it when you're done. Nothing is roped off, though they do put up some signs asking you to be careful. I don't know how much more they intend to restore, but they're doing a nice job so far.
I had planned to see the abbey at Cerisy le Foret on the road to Bayeux, but two traffic jams had eaten up a lot of time. I went by the turn off for it just after 6, and it closed at 6:30, so that was gone. But it's not my fault this time. I can't be held accountable for traffic jams. Though, if I had taken the other way to Coutances, I wouldn't have run into the second one.
Coming into Bayeux, I checked my driving instructions, and found them hopelessly vague. I was supposed to take the third turn at the second roundabout. But I had already been through several roundabouts, which one was the first to my second? Then I saw one that seemed to match what I was looking for. I turned, drove down the road a short way, and found a place to park along the road. My instructions said my hotel was at the corner of Rue de Tardif, and right next to me was the Tardif Hotel. So I must be at the right corner, at least.
I didn't want to stay parked on the street, and I couldn't quite turn into the parking lot across the street, so I had to go around the block (the usual French way) to park there. I got out of my car, looked across the intersection, and saw the hotel. I had actually overshot by only 50 yards - I must be getting better.
I walked around a bit, mainly looking at restaurants. I have all day tomorrow to see the museums and the cathedral and the town. I had reached an area that looked devoid of anything but bars and fast food places when I saw the Drakkar restaurant, with a viking on the sign. The price was reasonable, and the food was good. I had terrine of duck liver (I've been eating a lot of terrines lately, of all sorts, and I love it), and veal kidneys. Dessert was apple sorbet, with 3 thin slices of apple, all soaked in Calvados. Did I mention that Normandy is fond of apples?
Day 13 Wednesday, September 22.
Well, I didn't drive anywhere today, so I didn't get lost and I don't have any road adventures to tell about. That's not strictly true. I was parked in a lot kitty-corner from my hotel, and I went to the car to get something this morning. A man in a suit comes up and wants to know if I have a “disk” to let me park there. Any spot with blue lines instead of white requires a “disk”. All the spots had blue lines, as did all those on the street nearby.
So I moved the car to a lot right behind my hotel. I hadn't tried it before because I had a place to park. Now it was full, with people parking in the aisles. I left there and found a white spot down the street about 2 blocks, and paid to park there. That was only a temporary solution, because you could only buy 2 hours at a time. Today that didn't matter, but tomorrow when I'm on the D-Day tour, it would be a problem. When my time was up, I tried the full lot again. Another guy pulled in right in front of me, and drove right past the last open spot. I know it was the last, because he kept driving around trying to find an empty spot after I grabbed the one he ignored. All the lines are white, there's no pay ticket required – looks like I'm set for tomorrow.
First thing I did today, after moving the car, was to go look for the starting point for tomorrow's tour. I had a rough idea where it was, but I didn't want to be waiting on the wrong corner. I found it without too much trouble. They said it was a five minute walk from my hotel, but I made it in three.
Then it was time for the tapestry. That is something really impressive. I didn't get the audio guide, because I could read the Latin – it was a pretty simple text. And I wanted to get in and look closely at the tapestry, which most of the listeners were not doing. The techniques are interesting – the horses' tails are just a few strands of thread, but it looks like a tail from even a short distance.
The one drawback is that they kept changing the clothes the principals were wearing. This may be very realistic, but it makes it harder to keep track of who is who. Harold usually has a mustache, but in one scene, he looks clean-shaven. Odo is only identifiable when he's in his bishop's outfit. The captions help a lot with this problem, and it's not that important, anyway.
I went to the cathedral next. What a beautiful cathedral! I know, I've been saying that a lot. Can I help it if there are no ugly cathedrals on my list? I couldn't get far enough back from it to get one picture of the entire front of the cathedral. There was some interesting detail work inside that was too high up to get a good picture, too. There are four very old, smallish statues in a balustrade under the south rose window. But I would have had to use maximum zoom and hold the camera really, really still. I didn't even try.
At noon, they had a recording of someone singing the noon-time chant. It had to be a recording, or else they had the singer imprisoned in a column. It was not very loud, but you could hear it easily throughout the cathedral. You can go into the crypt, but it's small and not very interesting. The designs on the stained glass are not very special, but it is very nice anyway. They use a lot of red, and I don't think it is going to show that well in my pictures.
After the cathedral, I moved my car for the last time, and had lunch. Feeling fresh again, I went on the walking tour of the old town. There are some very nice half-timbered houses here, many with carved wooden figures on the beams. The Michelin guidebook points them out, along with a bunch of other old buildings. But many of those were just old buildings, with nothing interesting about them.
Today was market day, or something. The town closed off a block of St. Jean street, which is mostly for pedestrians anyway, and the whole block was lined with merchants selling fish, and cheese, and wine and gaming figures – all the usual medieval stuff.
About 3, I went back to the hotel and actually took a nap for an hour and a half. I've been doing a lot of walking, and last night my right leg was almost cramping up when I got into bed. So a little rest and time off my feet was a good.
I did some work on the computer after my nap. I entered all my expenses into a spreadsheet so I could know how much I've spent. I added a column to check my cash expenses against my cash on hand. I was about 0.37 euros off, and I think that was the excess piddly small change I threw into the cash box at Gratot.
Then I went out to dinner. Since I'm here for three nights, I've been checking out menus as I wander around, marking interesting restaurants on my map. I was heading for one that looked very good (and expensive), and that the guidebook recommended. I had seen it earlier in the day, and it had distracted me from everything else. It was closed, but across the street from it, and unnoticed by me earlier, was another restaurant. The menu looked good, and the price was reasonable.
I had another terrine, though I was tempted by a legume soup. If I had been sure it was lentils, I would have had it, instead. Then for the main dish, I had mignon of pork again, though this time I think it was pork tenderloin, or near to it. Very tasty. Lots of Americans there, and everywhere in town. This morning at breakfast there were three other Americans, and two Canadians. And I don't think the landlady speaks English. Not that it matters. She is the epitome of the gracious lady. This is technically not a hotel, but a guesthouse. And she is doing quite well renting out half a dozen rooms in her private house. I'll attach a picture so you'll know what a nice place this is.
Day 14 Thursday, September 23.
Today someone else drove, so I couldn't possibly get lost, and didn't. How's that for a change. Today was the D-Day tour, Omaha beach in the morning, Utah beach and the airborne areas in the afternoon. Tim said to be sure to get Oliver as the guide. Well, I got the boss, Alain. They had already divided up the tourists into van loads when we got to the departure point, so there was no choice involved. I don't think it made any difference – we saw the same places, and heard probably the same lecture.
This was the troubled traveler tour. Aside from me, everyone else had some sort of travel problem in hand. Today is the start of a train strike in France. Ray and his wife were going to turn in their rental car and take the train to Paris. Fortunately for them, they heard about the strike in time to keep the car. Doug and his wife didn't have a car to keep. They are planning to take the train to Brussels, but don't know if there will be a train in the morning. Jim and his son were leaving immediately after the tour to drive to Mannheim, Germany, to catch their flight home.
Jim was also the least prepared for the tour. He hadn't found an all-day parking place for his car, and Alain had to guide him to one on the way out of town, and then had to drop him off there at the end of the tour. Jim also had to run to an ATM at the end to get the money to pay for the tour. He flies for Delta, so keep that in mind when you're planning your next trip.
The tour was good. The weather was not. It started out cloudy and cool, warmed a very little, and started raining in the afternoon. Alain took us to a spot in about the middle of Omaha beach, and described what happened. It was nearly high tide, so the beach wasn't very wide. At Utah beach, later in the day, the tide was almost out, and the beach was much wider.
One of the first stops was at the American cemetery. Alain said that all the American cemeteries in France, and Point du Hoc, have officially been turned over to the U.S., and are our property. We had no veterans of D-Day in our tour (though they still show up), but some of our group were looking for relatives or some friend's relatives. For those of us who had no one in particular to look for, Alain suggested the Roosevelt brothers. Teddy Roosevelt Jr died of a heart attack about 5 weeks after D-Day, and he's buried there. His brother Quentin was a pilot killed in the First World War, and is buried next to him.
We stopped at several bunkers and places where scenes in the major movies actually took place. Alain revealed that the scene in “The Longest Day” where they use a bangalore torpedo to blow a hole in the sea wall didn't happen that way. There was no sea wall at that point, but there was a lot of barbed wire and a minefield. And that's what they blew a hole through. The movie made it more impressive, of course.
We stopped for lunch in St. Mere Eglise, and they have a model of a paratrooper hanging from his parachute on top of the church. Alain pointed out a few places to eat, mostly snack bar type places. He said we had an hour and a half for lunch and a visit to the airborne museum, so if we wanted to see the museum and eat in a restaurant, we should tell them we had little time to spare. I guess even lunch can be leisurely in a French restaurant.
I went into a pastry shop and got a couple of small ham and cheese quiches and a soda, which made a decent and cheap lunch. The museum was OK, but not thrilling. They had a glider in one building, and a C-47 in another, along with every type of small arms imaginable. I really wanted to use the time smoking my pipe, so I went out and sat on a bench under a tree.
The tree was useful after a while, when it started to rain lightly. The ground was getting wet, but I was still dry. Then the rain picked up volume, and the tree began to leak. I knocked the tobacco out of the pipe and headed for the church. The outside of the church is rather plain, but the inside was not too bad for a country church.
We then headed west to Brecourt manor, and the rain was getting serious. Alain led us into an open barn to give his talk about the action near here, and then drove us down to the field where the fight occurred. He said we could go into it if we wanted, but it was wet and he said there was nothing to see anymore. We preferred to get back into the dry van.
By the time we got to Utah beach, the rain had mostly stopped, and we could look around a bit. The tide was going out now, and a lot of beach was uncovered. The bluff here was just a sand dune bluff, and only about 10-15 feet high. Some of the others went up on top of the bluff for a view, but I just went back to the van.
We made a stop at a small village called Angoville sur Mer, where the paratroopers had set up a medic's station on June 6. There were two medics who treated 80 wounded American soldiers, a German or two, and some wounded civilians. The medics stayed on even after the troops pulled back, somehow avoiding being picked up by the Germans. In the late 90's, both these medics came back, separately, and were honored by the villagers for their work. The village put up a nice little monument to them, and most of the stained glass in the church honors them and the 101st airborne.
We had left Bayeux about 8:20, and got back about 5:50. It was a good tour, with lots of interesting info, and it was good to see the beaches in person. It wasn't quite what I had imagined, which is why I wanted to be there, just to see the reality. I could not have done this in one day by myself, and certainly not picked up so much information about things.
I went to a third restaurant tonight, and all three are within a half block of each other. The menu looked good, but it wasn't as good as the others. I began with a Country Salad, which is lettuce, bits of sauteed potatoes, chopped ham, topped with a fried egg. That was fine, but I wanted chicken for the main course, and it was out. So I had pork again, and this time it was just pork, and a bit tough. Oh, well, can't win them all.
Day 15 Friday, September 24.
I fell out of bed this morning. Or rather, the mattress and I fell out of bed. I had a vague feeling the bed slanted a bit, but it looked perfectly level. This morning, when I rolled over to turn off the alarm clock, the matress tipped up behind me, and everything landed on the floor. I wasn't hurt, but it was odd.
I left Bayeux a little later than I had planned, since I needed to get some more lunch stuff. The drive to Caen was fairly easy, but Caen was a bit of a challenge. I drove and drove and never seemed to get near the center of town, when all of a sudden, there it was. I was looking for centralized parking, and drove around a bit looking for a lot with spaces available. Finally I saw a sign for the tourist office that said the nearest parking to it was at the chateau, and pointed the way. And right there was the entrance to the underground garage, right under the chateau.
I walked around the chateau a while, but there's not a lot to see, as it was mostly destroyed a long time ago. The curtain wall is still there, but the central keep is just a floor plan. They've marked out the “foundations” of the keep, but that's all there is. The keep was literally a castle within a castle, as it had its own curtain wall, defensive towers and moat. The moat is still there, but the curtain wall is gone, and the only parts of the towers that survive are the bottoms, below the level of the courtyard.
I went across the street to St. Pierre's church, after getting my hat. (Handy having the parking garage so close.) It had started to rain, and I thought I might need it. I did. It rained on and off all day, sometimes just a sprinkle, sometimes fairly steady, often with outbreaks of sunlight. When I went into St. Pierre's it was raining, when I came out, it was sunny, and stayed sunny all the way to the Abbaye des Dames. It was still sunny when I left there, but well before I got to the Abbaye des Hommes it started to do some serious raining. Not a downpour, but heavy enough and steady. And then it just stopped.
Anyway, St. Pierre's is a nice church, and very interesting. In front, it has one big tall spire, an ordinary sized nave gable, and one short tower. It looks like a mobile phone ad, with only 3 bars. The asymmetry is odd, but nicely done. This is supposed to have been the richest church in Caen in the middle ages, but it's hard to see where the money went. The facade is beautifully decorated in the full Gothic style, but the inside is a bit plain. And there's no transept. I don't think I've ever seen a European church of this size without a transept.
I walked up to Matilda's abbey, and it was splendid, with a very fine facade. A lot of that was added later, as this was the premier abbey in Caen, and the abbesses like to show off their wealth. Her tomb is under a large plate of glass, so it is hard to get a picture of it without getting a reflection from something else.
As I said, it started raining again as I was walking to William's abbey. It wasn't too bad at first, but I finally had to take shelter in an open passageway. Eventually the rain let up, and I continued on my way. William's abbey is a shock after seeing Matilda's. The facade on his is brutally Norman romanesque. You can see the difference where they added some Gothic tops to the spires. Inside, the nave is purely romanesque, with rather wide bays. There is no glass in the end walls of the transept, but there is some very lovely stonework.
My next stop was supposed to be Tancarville castle, but I was starting to run late, mainly from dawdling in Bayeux. So I headed for Caudebec en Caux, home to what Henry IV (the French one) called the loveliest church in France. All I had to do was stay on the A13 until I got to exit 25, then go north. But I didn't believe it when I got to exit 25 – it seemed too soon to be there. So I pulled into a rest area to check the map, but the rest area was, of course, on the far side of exit 25. Getting off at exit 24 created a problem. This part of the map was very crowded. There were 3 or 4 roads crammed into a very small space between the motorway and the river Seine. They managed to get all the roads in, but not the numbers for them. So I had to do some back and forth to figure out which road would take me to the northbound road I wanted.
Eventually, I got to Caudebec, and I must say, old Henry was right. This is one mighty fine church. It's like a lace dress in stone. It's all Gothic, and gorgeous. Inside is the high vaulted ceiling you'd expect, with a double deck ambulatory. Above the ground floor vault of the ambulatory, there's another vaulted ceiling, presumably for another ambulatory. There's a lot of stained glass and some of it looks old, but the signs in the church just describe what the pictures represent. There's no hint of what their age is.
There are just 3 or 4 old half-timbered houses in Caudebec, all next to the church. There used to be lots more, but there was a big fire in 1940, and most of the town burned down. These few are all that's left.
Having gotten Caudebec in, I was now ready for the cherry on top of the sundae – Jumieges Abbey. It wasn't hard to find, the road from Caudebec to Rouen goes very near it, and there are lots of signs. Of course, you really have to pay attention. I was looking left, at the abbey walls, instead of right, at the parking lot, and I missed it. It didn't matter - I and another couple of Americans got there at about 5:20. It closes at 5:30 after mid-September. So the delay in leaving Bayeux, or the waiting in the rain in Caen, or ignoring my turn-off to Caudebec, any of them could have cost me this site. I have to look at my plans for tomorrow, and see if I can't fit it in.
Before I left Jumieges, I got out the netbook and checked the directions to my hotel in Rouen. Pretty simple, take the road I've been on right into the heart of the city, and turn left at the third bridge. I thought I made a wrong turn coming into Rouen, but it actually put me where I wanted to be, on the road next to the Seine. I passed the first bridge. I saw the second bridge coming up, and got into the left turn lane to make my turn, and found myself going the wrong way. I wound up crossing one of the bridges, and had to turn around and try again.
Somewhere, I lost track of the bridge numbers, probably when I went through an underpass. I finally figured out I needed to go back two bridges, and not one. Now I was on the road I needed, and it should be easy. Turn right immediately after the park, turn left at the Art museum, then look for Rue Morand. At every corner, I looked for the name of the cross street, and mostly found one. But not Rue Morand. Doubling back, I turned down a street and zig-zagged a bit and found myself on Morand, but I didn't see the hotel. In my rear-view mirror, I could see a hotel sign, but it was a one-way street. So I went around again, taking the shorter way this time, because a look at the map showed the direct route. That's when I discovered my error. The road I turned on did become Rue Morand, but the first block was something else, and I had only checked that side of the intersection as I drove past the first time. To offset all this bad luck, I found a parking place right outside the front door of the hotel.
I went out to take some pictures before dinner. It was getting late, and I wanted to see Rouen tonight, in case I needed to make time for Jumieges. There are an awful lot of wonderful old half-timbered buildings here, some of them very large. I walked around quite a bit, taking shelter from the recurrent rain occasionally. About 8:30 I thought I should stop photographing and start eating. I usually look for tables and chairs out on the sidewalk, or in the street. But with the rain, all that stuff was packed away. I was about to give up on one direction when I saw a sign, advertising a restaurant up a small side street. The menu was OK, so I went in.
I was a little concerned about the late hour, but I shouldn't have been. At 9:10 a party of six showed up. At 9:40, a party of more than 10 showed up, with reservations. More people came in after them. I guess they like late suppers here. I had another terrine – oxtail, if I translated it rightly. The main course was lamb, a cut similar to our blade chops, and very tasty. And chocolate profiteroles for dessert. Yum!
Day 16 Saturday, September 25.
Today was dry and sunny, also cold and windy. I went around Rouen, taking some more pictures by daylight – there are so many nice old things to photograph in Rouen, Then I went into the cathedral to continue my dead Plantagenet tour. They have Henry FitzHenry, Robert Longsword, and Richard's heart. They even have Rollo, who started it all.
They also have my baseball cap. I took it off when I went inside, and tucked it into my jacket pocket. I should have stuck it inside my jacket, because sometime on my walk around the cathedral, it fell out. I looked and couldn't find it. I even asked at the little gift shop they have. They showed me lots of lost caps, mostly baseball style, but not mine. It will now probably be placed in the cathedral treasury. I wouldn't have minded so much, but it was cold and windy.
The cathedral is gorgeous, with an open metalwork spire that is very impressive. It's been destroyed several times over the centuries, mostly by lightning. The latest version is steel, and won't burn. A large part of the cathedral was destroyed or damaged in WWII, but you can't really tell now. The only sign is that the south nave has no stained glass. It was supposed to have been removed for safety, but maybe when they rebuilt that side of the nave, they didn't get the measurements right, and the old glass wouldn't fit.
Anyway, everything else is wonderful. There is some marvelous stonework in the transepts, and a great Gothic staircase in the north transept. The side chapels have some interesting stone and wood work, as well, though one chapel was too Baroque for my tastes. They have a nice, full reading of one of the stained glass windows, but it wasn't place by that window, and I didn't want to go hunting for it.
When I left the cathedral, I headed off to Jumieges. I decided to cut the first two stops on today's tour to make time for the abbey. The ruined castle was most famous for having a good view of the Seine. And the abbey was described in Michelin as giving a “hint” of abbey life, but apparently no more. So off I went, and since I was just retracing my steps from last night, and now knew the way properly, it should have been easy.
If you believe that, you obviously haven't driven in France. There was a fork in the road, and a sign telling me left was everywhere I didn't want to go, and right was the way to Jumieges. So I turned right. About 15 or 20 minutes later when I got back there, I saw my mistake – it was a three tined fork, and I should have taken the middle one.
And Jumieges was a little disappointing. For all the effort I put into getting there, twice, it was not quite what I expected. The church is lovely, what you can see of it. But one of the spires is completely enclosed in scaffolding, and so are both sides of the inside of the nave. The transepts and all but one wall of the central tower are gone, along with the chancel and all the apse, except for one. bay. I didn't know what it was until I got back to the car and looked in Michelin. The guide pamphlet the site hands out doesn't mention it. But Michelin mentions that one bay remains, and it's in the right place to be that bay. And it's far enough back from the nave, that this must have been one enormous church. If the scaffolding was gone, it would indeed be worth a trip to see the abbey, but right now it is somewhat anti-climactic.
Next was Chateau Gaillard, on the other side of Rouen. This time I got all the way through Rouen without a hitch, and even found my exit road without any trouble. Chateau Gaillard is located in the town of Les Andelys, and it's easy to find. Just keep following the signs, through town, up the hill, down the little lane, down the hill, up another hill, and there you are at the first car park. This is for people who want a long-distance picture of the whole castle, or who have really strong legs and don't mind all the extra climbing that parking here entails. I drove on.
I have been to Trifels, and to Durnstein, the two castles where Richard I was held prisoner, and now I have been to Chateau Gaillard, and I can definitely state that he was not afraid of heights. Even driving most of the way up to it, you still have to do some climbing to get in. The front defenses and the main courtyard are always open and free, but you have to pay to get into the keep.
There are huge gaps in the walls, and whole towers are missing. For once, they told the whole story of why. Usually, they just say that the locals treated it as a ready-made quarry for cheap stone. But here they said that the abandoned castle had become a hangout for thieves, and so the king ordered it destroyed. The inner keep and its own curtain wall survived, more or less. When Louis XVI's daughter came to visit in 1828, they knocked a hole in the keep wall, so she wouldn't have to use the rickety wooden stairs to the real entrance.
The keep isn't all that large, but it was a defensive place, not a residence. And there is enough left to imagine what a threatening place it must have been in Richard's day. I was set up to resist sieges, with 3 wells, though only one remains. Next to the keep is the foundation of the bread oven. I paced off 9 feet across the mouth of the oven, and that's not the diameter.
After Chateau Gaillard, any castle would have trouble looking good. But Gisors managed. It has an enormously long curtain wall enclosing a bailey that the town has turned into a park. You can't go up on the ramparts, though there's not much of them left. The walls are pretty much intact, but almost all of the towers are backless and floorless. You can see doors on the second level, which may mean there was a passage running around inside the walls.
The real treat was the keep. It's a proper motte and bailey castle, with a stone keep on top of the original mottte. The keep is beautiful, and looks to be in pretty good repair, but you can only see it on a guided tour. The path up to the top is closed off with a locked gate. The gate is inserted into a hedge that runs around the motte at ground level. A couple of people figured out that you can slip through the hedge in a couple of places, and then just walk up.
On leaving Gisors for Beauvais and tonight's hotel, I remembered I did not have a map of Beauvais, or even this part of France. But I had faith in my Google map on the netbook. Unfortunately, I did not think it necessary to look at it until I got real close to Beauvais. Actually, it wouldn't have mattered. The road I was supposed to turn on was not marked, so I couldn't find it. I know this because I went back over the ground a couple of times.
I also took a wrong turn that took me 10 km down the motorway before I could get off and come back. Then I just threw myself into Beauvais, hoping to find a place to get a map. I couldn't find a gas station, or a stationery store, and even the train station shop was already closed. I finally got a break – I saw another hotel, part of a chain. So was mine, but not the same chain. But I figured they would know where their competitors where. And they did, and drew the route on a map for me.
All this wandering hopelessly around strange cities has taught me one thing. The next time I plan a trip like this, I will write to every tourist office along the way, asking for local maps. Tourist maps are not always very comprehensive, but they're better than nothing. I've also learned to be a little less trusting in Google maps. Google gave me the invisible turn to take, followed by a zig-zag path through what I think is an industrial park. I got to the hotel and discovered that the street it is one connects directly with the road I had approached Beauvais on. If Google had given me that road, I would have been here a lot sooner.
Oh, well, it's almost over. Tomorrow I have the cathedrals in Beauvais and Amiens – cathedrals on a Sunday. Hmmm, I've tried that before. Obviously bad planning on someone's part. Well, I can see the outsides anyway. And there is still the best for last – Coucy castle. Yes, I know there's nothing there, but I want to go anyway.
Day 17 Sunday, September 26.
It rained today, most of the day, sometimes very hard. A big storm came through from the north as I was going east toward Coucy, but passed over fairly quickly. But not quickly enough. As I was later headed south toward Paris, I went through the same storm again, all the way into the sunshine on the south end. It was rather nice watching the clear sky come closer and take over more of the heavens.
And it was cold, about 48 F in the morning, and only up to 56 in the afternoon. I wouldn't have minded so much if I hadn't lost my hat in Rouen yesterday. I managed to park about a block from the cathedral in Beauvais, next to the gallo-roman wall. There were some other interesting things in town – a broken bit of some medieval religious building, square and standing about 30 feet tall, and the departmental museum of history housed in an 18th century mansion, with a nice medieval gatehouse.
I took a few pictures of the outside of the building, then hurried in to get out of the rain. The cathedral looked odd from the outside, but I couldn't think why. When I got inside, I saw what made it look strange. The other day, in Caen, I found a church with no transept. Beauvais has a transept, but no nave. I've never seen that. And it was made that way, because the front facade is too highly decorated to have been just a cover for an empty space.
Most of the cathedrals I've seen on this trip have had some restoration work being done on the exterior. Beauvais is no exception, but also had work being done inside. The choir is mostly taken up with a scaffolding that rises to the roof, tastefully hidden in decorative shrouding. There are huge wooden braces serving as internal buttresses to the walls. I got there about 10 or 10:30, and there was no service going on, or apparently expected. Maybe they finished early, or maybe the services are being held elsewhere while the work is being done. But there was an altar set up in front of the normal sanctuary.
It's obviously seen better days, but there are still traces of the old glory. The ceilings are high, and some of the arches are painted. There is also a huge timepiece – it must be 20 feet long and 15 feet tall – with a dozen or more dials of all sorts. I took some pictures, but the lights are carefully aimed at the dials, and give a lot of glare. It still works, apparently, because they put up a sign saying the dust from the restoration was interfering with it, so they turned it off. It was made and donated by some late 19th century benefactor.
I had a map of Beauvais, courtesy of the other hotel last night. And Amiens is north of Beauvais, so I headed north and found the right road without too many wrong turns. Parking was a real problem in Amiens; everybody seemed to want to be out and about in such miserable weather. But I lucked out and found a place to park on the street a couple of blocks from the cathedral.
The rain had stopped earlier, but it started up again. And, judging by the number of people standing outside and the sound of singing from inside, I assumed Mass was still going on at 12:15. I took a couple of pictures, but it was too wet and cold. On a Sunday, all the little news stands and trinket shops that might sell stuff, and that you take for granted the rest of the week, are closed. I needed two things, a hat, and a map to find my way out of Amiens.
But there was one heathen who ran a snack stand and gift shop on the cathedral square. He did not have a map, but he did sell “I [heart] Amiens” baseball caps, for less than 4 euros. Right then, I'd have spent more to keep my head dry. Not only did I get a hat, but I had some time indoors, out of the weather.
Finally I got to go into the cathedral, but first I wanted to take some pictures of the statues and carvings around the entrance. I got one picture, but a bunch of Dutch (I think) tourists got I my way, and were afraid of drowning in the rain. So I just went in, and wow!
The nave is tall and long, with nice tracery around the upper ends of the columns. Most of the windows in the nave have plain glass or modern stained glass. But some of the chapels in the apse have some beautiful 13th century glass. But sculpture is where Amiens stands out. I couldn't see the glass in the rose windows well enough to say how nice it is, but the stonework framing the glass is fabulous. This cathedral has some of the nicest stonework I've seen in a long time.
There are two series of carved and painted panels on opposite sides of the choir, one depicting scenes from Christ's life, and the other John the Baptist. And there are two more panels on the transept walls. There are also a number of smaller plaques beneath the John the Baptist panels. I think they are supposed to tie in with them, but I'm not sure.
John the Baptist is important here, because in 1206 someone returning from the 4th crusade donated John the Baptist's head, which he picked up in Constantinople. They have it on display in one of the bays of the ambulatory. I tried to take a picture, but the lights on it made it hard to get a good shot. It looks old, and probably human, but it doesn't really look quite like a skull. I hope the crusader didn't pay too much for it.
I went to the tourist office, right on the cathedral square, to get a map, but they were out to lunch, and wouldn't be back until 2. It was 1:45, and I could just have waited, but I also needed a restroom, and decided that the train station could provide relief and a map. I found the station without too much trouble, but they are remodeling it. Any shops or news stands they might have are temporarily gone. Even the toilets were moved to a trailer next to the tracks.
Back to the tourist office, where a nice lady showed me how to get out of town, and pointed me toward Coucy. I estimated about an hour and a half to get to Coucy, and that's about what it took me. Google and the tourist lady suggested going east to St. Quentin, the south toward Coucy. This made the two legs of a right triangle, so I decided to take another road that made the hypotenuse. It would be more direct and shorter. There wasn't much traffic, and for long stretches I was going as fast as on the motorway.
I missed a turn in one town, and went a couple of miles out of my way before I could turn around. And the last few kilometers seemed to last forever. Finally, I saw the towers of the curtain wall, made the correct turn and started up the hill to the castle. At the top was a sign pointing to the castle, so I drove that way a block, only to see its twin pointing back. I turned around and pulled into the town square, and then noticed the small, plain sign saying Chateau de Coucy, with a very small arrow pointing through a gate.
I drove in and parked and followed another tiny arrow to the castle. I got there at 5:15, and the castle closes at 5:30 after the start of September. And that means locking the gate. Ticket sales stop at 5 sharp. After all this, I missed it. And it wasn't even dawdling at the cathedrals in Beauvais and Amiens, or missing turns, or having trouble driving around in Amiens. All that would not have mattered if I had only gotten out of bed earlier.
I used to be able to get up at 7, and be ready to be a tourist before 9. I was setting my alarm for 7:30 on this trip, and was having trouble climbing out of bed immediately. So today I decided to sleep a little later, and set the alarm for 8. That half hour of sleep cost me Coucy. I did get a couple of pictures through the gate, including one of the rubble pile from the great tower.
From Coucy to my hotel for the night was a simple, if long, drive. The D1 goes near Coucy, so I could take that to Soissons, and then take the N2 all the way to my hotel. It was 100 meters from exit 7. Unfortunately, exit 7 only exists if you are coming from Paris. There's no exit for the southbound. I could take exit 8, and drive a few miles through another town, and hope to find my way. Or I could go down to exit 6, the airport exit, with a full cloverleaf interchange, and turn around.
I chose the turn around option, because it seemed the least likely to go wrong. And I actually did it correctly, entirely by accident. The cloverleaf was not a cloverleaf, but I found my way through it somehow. I was soon at exit 7, and there 100 meters from the exit, as promised, was the hotel. Easiest hotel find yet.
There's a hitch, of course. The gate to the parking lot was closed, and the reception office looked dark. The sign said to contact reception to open the gate, but I didn't see how. Just then someone pulled up, the gate opened, and he went in. I walked in after him. The office was, indeed, closed, and had been since mid-afternoon. This was not something they told me about.
The guy I saw pulling in worked there as the shuttle bus driver, and he showed me how the system was set up. There was a little kiosk outside, and you put in your reservation confirmation number, and stick your credit card in and it dispenses your key. The only number I had was too long for the machine, so the guy called his boss and got my number from him. But, like the gas station in Orleans two weeks ago, this card reader did not want any of my credit cards. The driver left me to figure this out myself, so I was really stuck. I couldn't get in, and if I did, there was no restaurant.
So I left there and headed for the airport, figuring I'd find something near it. I know that there are a lot of areas near O'Hare that don't have hotels, but it was worth a try. And sure enough, there was a hotel, with a restaurant. I'm paying as much here as I did on Mont St. Michel, without the ambience, but I have a bed.
I will now try to send this off, and get to work re-packing my suitcase. I also need to check what time my flight leaves. It wouldn't do to have it leave without me.
Day 18 Monday, September 27.
The hotel was quite close to the airport, and I got there quickly and dropped off the car. Then I had to try to find my airline check-in point. I couldn't see any signs for it, so I asked at an Air France booth. They were very polite about directing me to the competition, and it turned out I was in the wrong terminal. Good thing I was early.
So I got checked in, left my luggage and started off to the gate. I went through the usual security gate where they check my passport and ticket. Then I followed the signs, and followed them, and followed them some more. At one point I had to go up an escalator slung like a rope bridge between two floors. It actually swayed slightly. And every so often, someone else wanted to check my papers. I must have been checked three or four times, not counting the security check point.
But I finally got to the gate. The trip home was non-stop, thank goodness, and uneventful.
The trip was very enjoyable, overall. Yes, I missed out on some sights I wanted to see, and got lost more often than I liked. But I saw almost all of what I wanted to see, and had fun doing it. The people were nice, the food was good, the weather was pleasant, all this makes for a great vacation.