Saturday May 25 — Tuesday May 28 —The Loire Valley

We have been in the Loire Valley for the past three days.  The weather has been sunny but breezy.  This morning, Tuesday, May 28, 2013, we are due to head south to begin our France’s Most Beautiful Villages tour, and it is pouring down rain.

But let me catch you up on our adventures thus far.  Saturday morning, May 25, Tom and I took the 47 bus to Place de l’Italie to the Hertz office to pick up our touring car.  Mom and Tom had spent quite a bit of time plotting a route back to the apartment that seemed to get more and more complicated the more and more we looked at it.  After reviewing the car, Tom decided we would just go back the way we had come on the bus.  No problem!

Walking up rue Monge to the bus:

Place de l'Italie:

Driving back to the apartment:

Our street to the apartment, however, is a no-traffic street—one way in and one-way out for any vehicles.  We would either have to drive down to the apartment and back out or back down and drive out.  We backed down with the car beeping every time something or someone came relatively close.

As we pack up the car, another car comes driving down and stops in front of us—only a delivery and the driver is not there long!   Whew!  As Mom and I wait for Tom to make the last round of the apartment, a work truck drives up and stops a couple of yards in front of us.  The men get out and look at us as they walk by and go into our building.  They do not come back for a while.  We sit there in the car like they know they have to come back to let us out, but no.  Finally, one of the men looks around the door and sees that their truck is blocking the way, and he backs down the rue as we follow.   

We round the corner onto rue Cardinal Lemoine to rue Monge back to Place de l’Italie out to the highway.  Before long, we need to make a pit stop.  Our navigation skills are the pits, and we circle an area several times before we figure out where we need to be.

 Since our time in Paris was really short (as determined by the rain, mostly), we did not explore the literary history associated with our neighborhood.  Around the corner on rue Cardinal Lemoine, both Ernest Hemingway and James Joyce lived.  As we drive passed, I notice a plaque that sames "James Joyce lived here."  The apartment is described by Richard Eder, chief of The New York Times Paris bureau:  "The prettiest place he lived, perhaps, was Valery Larbaud's apartment in a kind of mews at 73 Rue Cardinal Lemoine, on the Contrescarpe behind the Pantheon and with curving view of Paris."

Also come to find out that a friend I met on a trip to Scotland is also in Paris, and she happens to be staying in Hemingway's apartment at 74 rue Cardinal Lemoine, which is just down the street from ours!  Actually, where our street, rue Rollin, dead ends—the blue door to the right of the yellow truck!

We have a bit of time, so I get to go to Chartres to see the cathedral!  Both Henry James and Henry Adams wrote detailed descriptions of their experiences and perceptions of the cathedral, and I refer you to their writings if you are interested in reading about their reflections on Chartres.  The cathedral does rise up out of the town majestically. Most medieval villages were built around a church or cathedral.  The site of the present cathedral has been a sacred site for millennia.

Once we enter the village, we have an experience like that in the movie Groundhog Day.  We find a spot for a scenic photo of the cathedral, but actually getting to the cathedral is a challenge.  I am following the GPS map on my phone that keeps taking us to the cathedral, and we can see the west porch, but there doesn't seem to be a place to park and walk in.  We circle at least 4 times before finding an underground parking lot that we had driven by at least 4 times.  Once we park, make our way up to the ground level again, the cathedral appears to be even farther away.  It isn't though.  The cathedral is breath-taking, in its size, beauty, and history.  Even with its many stained glass windows, it is very dark inside.  My trusty Nikon Coolpix P500 does pretty well figuring out the proper setting--we only have a few discussions as to which will work better.

Mom, Tom, and I each take our own paths once inside.  Notre Dame de Chartres is remarkable for several things:  a labyrinth, a cloak of the Virgin Mary's, a stained glass window with scenes from the life of Charlemagne, one of the oldest windows is that of Notre Dame de la Belle Verierre, and the Rose window and windows having to do with the life and ancestry of Jesus.  These are my sights of interest.  I taught a humanities class for many years but had only seen pictures of these, except for the cloak.  It is hard to only imagine the scenes in the windows in their proper places.

We arrive late Saturday afternoon, so chairs cover the labyrinth in preperation for Saturday mass.  There are about a dozen cathedrals in France that have labyrinthine floors, and theses same cathedrals are often on the pilgrimage trail.  Walking a labyrinth has become very “New Agey” throughout the world.  I have even seen a hand-held labyrinth, the size of a cinnamon donut that you trace with a stylus advertised in a catalogue.

I have to hunt for the Charlemagne window, which is around the corner from the religious relic of the Virgin Mary’s veil.  I only know the story of the veil and had never seen a photo or read a description of it.  The veil is directly behind the altar in one of the chapels off of the ambulatory.  It was one of the three holy relics given to Charlemagne when he was made the first Holy Roman Emperor in 800 CE.

Charlemagne window:

There is a crowd along the south side of the ambulatory, and I wonder what is drawing everyone’s attention.  It is the window of Notre Dame de la Belle Verierre.  It is one of the oldest windows in the cathedral.  The garnet red and rich blue are as vibrant as the day the glass was made. These particular colors in stained glass have not been achieved since.  The blue is known as Chartres blue.  The original windows in Chartres, Notre Dame de Paris, and Sainte Chapelle have been removed during the first and second world wars in order to protect the stained glass.  In some cases, it has taken several years to replace (and probably restore) the windows.  Some of the original windows that were in Sainte Chapelle are currently in the Cluny Museum in Paris, and copies are in their places in the actual chapel.  People stand in front of Notre Dame de la Belle Verierre for quite some time.

I see Mom and Tom are ready to leave, and we find ourselves downhill and facing the church before it clouds over and starts to sprinkle some more.

Leaving Chartres is just as crazy as getting into centre ville!  We stop by an Ibis hotel to ask them to call ahead to the Ibis in Amboise to ask them to be sure to hold our rooms. Mom comes out with the message that whenever we get there is no problem but that the restaurant is fully booked for the evening.  We move on down the road.

Once we arrive on the outskirts of Amboise, Tom is on autopilot and takes us right to the hotel. We have stayed at this Ibis on several trips.  Familiar territory!  Mom later teases Tom and me for wanting to revisit several sites.  We are so sentimental, she says!

Nathalie greets us as we check in, and she says that since we have arrived sooner than expected, we can book for dinner at 7 pm, before the big group comes in.  It turns out that there is an antique car club celebrating, and the parking lot is filled with old Citroens, Bugattis, roadsters, and other touring cars.  Tom takes off with a camera while Mom and I order.  I order a Ricard aperitif.  I read a mystery series by Martin Walker set in the Dordogne, Bruno, Chief of Police, and Bruno and the other characters are always having Ricards as they cook their dinners.  There is also a scene in Le Divorce when the character orders a Ricard in Cafe de Flore.  The main flavor is a Ricard is anis, which is also is pastis and absinthe. Like absinthe, there is a method of preparation:  first a measure of Ricard in a glass, add a few ice cubes, then water, and stir.

I order a pizza, and Mom and Tom have pasta du jour.  we have had a special wine and cheese and crackers in the room, so none of us quite finish our dinners.  I go right to bed when I go back to my room.  My first real bed and pillows in a week!



Sunday, May 26

Objective Chinon!  There is a medieval village and fortress in Chinon.  

We have circled Chinon on several trips.  We circle it again before settling on parking.   A big surprise: right next to the parking lot is a wine tasting spot for Cuilly Dutheil, a favorite wine.  We stop in, have a taste, then promise Myriam we will return after we visit the fortress, which is right across the street.

Chinon is a very important site both historically and strategically.  It was Henry II of England's favorite chateau.  He kept Eleanor of Aquitane locked up here for several years after she initiated a rebellion against Henry with their sons.  Joan of Arc came to Chinon to identify France's future king, Charles.  Many medieval chateaux and fortresses are built on high ground.  Chinon is high above the medieval city and across from the river Vienne.  There has been a lot of work done for tourists--interactive consoles and videos.  There is a Joan of Arc display and some archaeological presentations.  There is a room with models of the reconstruction of the fortress.  Chinon was also where the Templars were imprisoned in 1308.  

There are not many people out on this Sunday, so our visit is quite leisurely.  Mom and Tom find the outdoor cafe while I go climb the clock tower.  I am not sure i want to make the climb, so I ask someone who has come down if the climb is worth it.  He says yes, if it doesn't kill you! So here I go.  There are rooms off the stairs that show some pictures of the work as it is being done.  The last floor before the top shows the clock mechanism.  There is a little girl at the top who starts screaming, and I think, now what!?

On top, there are two toddlers.  One is wearing a monkey harness and the tail is a leash for her mother to hold.  She is having fun; it is the other little girl who has been doing the screaming!  Her parents and grandmother calm her down by the time I descend.  I find Mom and Tom at the cafe, and they have saved me a part of a sandwich.

 There is an elevator, lo and behold, to take you down to the medieval village.  At first, we think that it is an elevator in the gift shop at Chinon, but it only goes down one flight, and we are bemused that we have been so silly.  Farther out of the fortress is another elevator that actually does go down to the village.  There is not really much going on in the village since it is Sunday, although the Place in front of the Mairie is full of people eating at the cafes.  We decide to fulfill our promise (and taste buds) with Cuilly Dutheil.

Part of the story of our liking this particular wine goes back to our family visit in 2008.  I had had to return home, but Dana and Jessica had come to meet us for a few days in Paris.  Mom, Tom, Dana, and Jessica went on their own adventures after I left.  One of the adventures involved discovering a Cuilly Dutheil rosé wine which we have not been able to find in the US since.  I have found Cuilly Dutheil red at Costco on occasion, but that it about it.  Tom researched trying to find the rosé extensively, to no avail.  We have probably bought way too much wine!  Looking ahead to our plan, now, to end up in Avignon, I feel very strongly that it is necessary to purchase and bring back a Chateauneuf de Pape!  Mom and Tom want to bring back the CD rosé, at least.

After purchasing our wine and receiving a bottle of Brut sparkling rose as a gift, we venture south toward Fontevraud.  Here is where Mom’s “sentimental” comment comes in.  Twice before, we have stopped at a little cottage just outside the village.  The first time we purchased local wine, and I bought a little pichet (pitcher).  The man at the cottage also had a basset hound puppy. That was in 2004.  The next time was in 2008, and the man had moved on, but a woman was there still selling wine.  This time, the cottage is locked up tight.  There is a horse grazing near the cottage, and of course, I have to go say hello.  He comes over to me but loses interest when he sees that I do not have anything interesting for him to eat.

At Fontevraud, there is a famous Abbey that we visited in 2004.  The Abbey is interesting in that it is an Abbey run by women, with an Abbess in charge.  It also received favor from nobles and royalty.  Often women of royalty would take holy orders instead of remarrying.  Eleanor of Aquitane was the abbess for a number of years until her death at age 91.  Eleanor, Henry II, Richard the Lionhearted, and Isabelle of Angouleme are buried at Fontevraud.  There is also a remarkable architectural building, a kitchen with multiple chimneys.  You see the kitchen displayed on brochures about Fontevraud rather than the Romanesque church where Eleanor, Henry, Richard, and Isabella lay in state.  Mom and Tom are tired out, but they send me to the Abbey to pay our respects to our ancestors.  This year, as we discovered in Paris and throughout our journey, the flowers are late in blooming.  Usually the Rodin garden bursts with colors and scents.  On our last visit to Fontevraud, purple, yellow, and white irises spilled out onto the paths.  Not so this year.

I told Mom and Tom that I would only be half an hour, and of course, I am late.  I walk by a park where we have had several picnics, and a gray striped cat makes friends and does his tricks for me—essentially, rolling around to scratch his back!  I take some pictures of some red poppies and what we call in California, California lilac.  It seems very strange to see the California lilac at Fontevraud.  The flowers are not bursting into bloom like they were on our first visit either.

Back at the Ibis, the antique car people are still there.  We all have a ground beef burger that comes with bacon, potato, and cheese.  Mom and Tom order medium, and I ask for medium rare.  Everyone, even Nathalie who is taking our order, looks at me like I am crazy.  Then I remember that in France, medium rare usually means not cooked much at all, so I order medium.  All three burgers are nowhere near what we consider medium!  We make friends with a yellow lab named Vaney, who is also dining with us.  We have had plenty of wine and are sleepy.  We also decide to stay in Amboise another day.