2002 Paris and Southwest France by Susan Hanes

Paris & The Southwest 2002

Paris & The Southwest September 12-30, 2002 â&#x20AC;&#x153;You must be crazy!â&#x20AC;? hooted Tom when we showed him the route Jake had planned for us to follow on our eighteen days in France. True, this was not to be a vacation in the strictest sense, the word conjuring up images of lazy, restful days in the sun. Jake maintains, however, that a vacation is any time away from home in which you are doing something significantly different from your normal routine. If that is true, then our tour of the ancient fortified villages and Romanesque churches of central and southwestern France was indeed a very special vacation. 1

Thursday, September 12 - Friday, September 13

We departed from O’Hare on Thursday evening, September 12th on American Airlines flight 42 to Paris. Although I had my normal pre-flight jitters, the trip was fine and uneventful. We landed at Charles De Gaulle at 10:30 AM Friday and collected our baggage. Although it had only been nine months since our honeymoon trip to Paris, I had forgotten about all the stairs to be negotiated from the arrivals area to the RER train. Once into Paris, we transferred to the Metro, got off at the Hotel de Ville and walked to the nearby Hotel Bourg-Tuborg (two Michelin red peaks). We got cozy in one of the tiniest elevators I’ve ever seen and opened the door to an equally tiny double room. There was barely room for the bed, not to mention our suitcases. The window opened onto the street two floors below. The day was bright and beautiful, previewing the weather that lay in store for us. After a little rest, we walked to the Musée National du Moyan Age (the Cluny), stopping for ice cream along the way. There was an exhibition about the Medieval Garden featuring tapestries, herbal books, books of

Chicago-Paris

hours, and drawings and paintings that illustrated the Garden of Eden, gardens of love, and pharmacological gardens. Ancient tools and pots added to the atmosphere. We wandered through other rooms of the Cluny, revisiting the Unicorn Tapestries and bought an attractive poster. We continued to Notre Dame (where we found a whole window of stained glass green men) before returning to the hotel to get ready for dinner. We took the Metro to the Invalides station and walked the few blocks to Les Olivades, a Bib Gourmand restaurant, for our 8:00 PM reservation. We were the first customers of the evening and chose a table at the open window to fully enjoy that perfect night. The restaurant didn’t start to fill up until around 9:00 PM, a situation we found to be true the entire trip. We enjoyed the long walk back to our hotel but, after a long day, were ready to turn in. We noted that the night noises in the street subsided only an hour or so before the morning noises began but we managed to sleep heavily nonetheless.

The Hotel Bourg Tibourg

The Marais

MusĂŠe National du Moyan Age

Notre Dame

Saturday, September 14

Paris

We arose late on Saturday morning feeling much revived. We enjoyed café au lait and a croissant at a sidewalk café on the corner near the hotel before heading out to Cligancourt station and the Marches des Puces. This time we concentrated on the Marche Vernaison, the oldest and most picturesque of the flea markets. We saw several interesting match strikers but found them to be very pricey and decided to forego them. However, what we did find was a miniature globe dating from the 1880s in a little shop boasting “Antiquities Scientifiques—Curiosites”. After a bit of negotiating with the seller and with the ATM, we had it packed up and ready to lug with us around France. We both thought that it would be a wonderful addition to our “DD” room in Chicago as a compliment to the antique Vuitton trunk that we found in London in May. Returning to the hotel by way of a nearby food market, we bought a bottle of red wine to take with us in the car and a chicken-potato dish, which looked a lot better than it tasted. After dropping off our packages at the hotel, we headed out again for Ste-Chapelle to see the stained glass windows. There was a bit of a queue but things moved quickly and we soon climbed the spiral stairs to the chapel. Jake found a leafy green man for me, hidden in a golden column. Thus inspired, we returned to Notre Dame to look for more green

men. As I sat in the crossing, admiring the rose windows, I noticed that among the throngs of tourists and flashing of cameras, some few had come seeking peace. A young girl knelt, face in hands, her thick hair streaming over her shoulders, blind to all around her.We continued to I’le St-Louis where we purchased cheese, sausage and mustard for our car trip as well as some rustic crockery pots and then to the Village St-Paul, a section of the Marais. We were able to locate the shop Au Petit Bonheur la Chance where we had bought some kitchen treasures on our honeymoon. This time we found a wooden box of game pieces with the word “Suze” on it; an advertisement for the gentiane-based aperitif. We walked through the Hotel Sully to the Place Vosges, filled with couples and families enjoying the lovely day.Hurrying back to the hotel for a quick change, we walked to another Bib Gourmand, the Ambassade d’Auvergne, about twenty minutes from our hotel. The restaurant is famous for its cheese potatoes, called aligot. However, it was rather disappointing. Our dinner was heavy and plain and we fought cigarette smoke from every direction. Our walk home took us through what we realized was a heavily homosexual area, where many same-sex couples were out for an evening stroll.

Marche Vernaison

Sunday, September 14

Chagny

Sunday morning we were up early to pack and lugged our things to the Gare de Lyon to find the Avis office and pick up our rental car. We realized as we negotiated the stairs into the Metro that we could not have picked more awkward items to deal with—a globe, wine bottle and crockery, and a rolled-up poster. After some negotiations, we got our car, a Czech-made Skoda. We had some misgivings that it was a diesel but were assured by the Avis representative that it had ample pick-up and that finding diesel fuel would not be difficult. As the tank was less than a quarter full, we realized that we would have to promptly test that statement. Displeased about yet another delay, we set off to find a gas station. After four kilometers of city driving we finally found a station but were frustrated that we could not locate the fuel tank release. Two intelligent minds were helpless. The release was not in any of the usual places and the manual didn’t help as it provided a close-up picture of a location that we could not determine. In desperation I asked a fellow at the next pump to assist us. He joined in our search and for another ten minutes the three of us combed the car in vain. Voila! He discovered it at last located with the air conditioning controls. Jake fueled up and

as we pulled up to the cashier our friend came up to Jake’s window and pointed out that in our confusion, we had forgotten to replace the gas cap. Not an auspicious beginning. At last we were truly on our way, heading south on the A6 (one of the “auto route” toll highways which are certainly the equal to our Interstate Highway System) toward Burgundy and the town of Vézèlay. We arrived at about 2:00 PM, parked and walked up the steep road past old vine-covered houses and shops to the basilica of Ste-Madeleine. The abbey was founded in 878 by Girart de Roussillon and, in the 11th century, came under the control of the dominant Benedictine order headquartered in Cluny. Vézèlay was a great place of pilgrimage for it was believed to shelter the relics of Mary Magdalene and was the start of one of the four principal routes that led pilgrims to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. In 1120 a great fire broke out destroying the entire nave and killing more than 1,000 pilgrims. What makes the abbey most impressive is the tympanum above the central interior doorway that depicts the enthroned Christ entreating his apostles to worldwide evangelism and demonstrating that the word of God is meant for all mankind.

The tympanum would have sent an intense spiritual message to the medieval pilgrims as they began their journey southward. As we walked through the nave, we took careful notice of the famous Romanesque sculptures surmounting the capitals. In their simple yet sophisticated style they show great depths of emotion and connection with the human spirit. One which I found of particular interest was the depiction of the story of St. Eugenia who had posed as a male abbot and later had to prove her innocence of an indiscretion by opening her robe to reveal her femininity much to the shock of her accusers. In another, St. Anthony’s look of horror at a man’s torture by devils is haunting. We took our time, savoring and photographing these treasures. Eventually, we made our way down the hill, bypassing the pottery shops and tea gardens, stopping as we left town to take landscape photographs of Vézèlay and the abbey on the hill above us. Approximately 65 kilometers distant, Abbaye de Fontenay is nestled at the end of a remote valley. Fontenay was the second Cistercian monastery to be established and is the best preserved of those remaining. Cistercian churches are notable for their austere simplicity and lack of sculptural decoration. Late in the afternoon of another brilliant day, we arrived at the grounds and were treated to the beauty of the remarkable setting. We were able to walk through not only the church (where recorded Gregorian chants echoed evocatively in the background), but the adjacent chapter house, cloister, and dormitory with its ceiling of hand-hewn beams. A nearby forge building, over 175 feet long, is a virtual factory. The 10

forge room, considered the most beautiful in the abbey, houses drop-forge hammers and bellows which were innovative at the time. We left Fontenay and drove through the Cote d’Or, passing famous vineyards producing some of the most renowned Burgundy wines. Our destination for the night was the town of Chagny and Lameloise, a Michelin three-star restaurant and small hotel. When we were shown to our room, we felt like royalty. It was huge (particularly in comparison to our Paris lodgings) and tastefully decorated in patterns and shades of blue. However, we hardly had a chance to enjoy our room as we hurried to dress for dinner. And what a dinner it was! Jake and I decided on the degustation menu, a seven-course delight: foie gras and salmon; fish; lobster; soup; meat; cheese; and desserts, followed by pastries and candy. We didn’t return to our room until after 11:00 PM. How could anyone sleep after eating like that?

Vézèlay

Monday, September 16

Ige

After a fabulous breakfast with delicious cassis (currant) comfiture (we bought a couple of jars to take with us and now wish we had purchased more) we were on the road to Autun. After an unplanned detour to Couches following roads through the wine country of Burgundy, we found ourselves at the Cathedrale St-Lazare. Completed in 1146 as a rival to Ste-Madeleine in Vézèlay, the cathedral boasts a famous tympanum over the central doorway generally attributed to Gislebertus, a master of Romanesque sculpture. Its theme is the Last Judgment and features at its center Christ in Majesty surrounded by angels and by the dead rising from their graves. As the saved proceed in an orderly file with their eyes on their Savior, the damned assume chaotic poses: Avarice with a bag of gold, Lust devoured by snakes, and the hand of

Satan reaching down to grab the head of a terrified sinner. We entered the church and made our way slowly around the vast nave, noting the sculpted capitals throughout. I saw a winding stairway and climbed up, finding the chapter room that housed sculptural treasures. The Flight into Egypt and the Three Sleeping Magi were mounted low enough for easy viewing and photographing. I raced down to get Jake and we basked in their charm. We then decided that the Magi would be our Christmas card. Our only disappointment was that Gislebertus’ Temptation of Eve had been moved across the street to the Musée Rolin which when we arrived had unfortunately just closed for lunch and would not reopen until 2:00 PM. We felt that we couldn’t spare a two-hour wait and resumed our travels with regret.

Autun

We drove the short distance to Beaune, a lovely town in the heart of the Burgundian vineyards that I remembered from my trip to the Loire and Burgundy twenty-five years earlier with my mother. We found the Hotel-Dieu, a marvel of Burgundian-Flemish art that was founded as a hospital by Chancellor Nicolas Rolin in 1443 and which has remained in use as such until the 20th century. The most notable aspect of the Hotel-Dieu buildings is their glazed polychrome tile roofs with bright designs laid out in geometrical forms. Inside, the immense Chambre des Pauvres boasts an incredible ceiling that resembles an inverted boat keel and, upon opposite walls, two rows of poster beds that, with their red tapestry spreads and draperies, create a striking impression. Each bed is made up with fresh white bedclothes and

there is a small table at each with matching pewter candleholder and eating implements. A separate room houses the polyptych of the Last Judgment by Rogier van der Weyden, commissioned by Nicholas Rolin in 1443 to be hung in the Chambre des Pauvres. A mobile magnifying glass enables viewers to study the smallest detail on the expressive faces of the subjects. Jake took several photographs of the painting and of a beautiful mille fleur tapestry also in the room. Before leaving Beaune, we visited the gift shop and purchased several pewter reproductions of the bowls and cups on the tables in the Chambre des Pauvres. I also made a brief visit to an antique shop that I had visited on my previous trip and took a photo for old timesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; sake.

Beaune 17

Our next destination was the Abbaye Ste-Philibert in Tournus, once an important monastic center. The abbey resembles a castle keep with its dark slit windows. We noted that the early Romanesque architecture was rugged and simple and almost devoid of decoration. I climbed the narrow winding steps to the Chapelle St-Michel looking for carvings pictured in the guidebook and had to make a second trip before I found the simple carvings created before the construction of the nave. On the route to Cluny we noticed a sign for Taizé. Having often heard about the annual prayer meetings there, I suggested that we take a quick detour. We headed up a steep hill to this tiny village of 118 residents that swells to tens of thousands when young people from all over the world come to pray. We drove past the meetinghouses, shower halls and camping fields, seeing a smattering of visitors but nothing like it must be at the height of the season. We stopped at a tiny church and I went in to find it very dark, occupied by several young people in silent contemplation. We hurried on to Cluny as the day began to fade. During the French Revolution, all but one transept of what was once the largest and most magnificent church in Christendom was

destroyed. But to stand at the former entrance and look out at the remains of massive columns and note the length of the former walls is to get a sense of the majesty of the abbey and to understand that the influence of the Order of Cluny rivaled that of the Pope. Although we had arrived too late for entry into the museum and transept, we tried to find a way to gain a closer view. However, our attempt came to an end when we realized that we would have to trespass through a stable full of horses to get closer. We decided that it was time to find our way to Igé and our lodgings for the night. The Château d’ Igé is a Relais & Chateaux hotel with one star and was once a feudal castle dating from 1235. It was rescued from ruin and converted to a luxury hotel about twenty years ago. We were enchanted when we climbed the well-worn winding stone steps to our cozy room. Jake later took a picture of me leaning out of our ivy-shrouded window, high in the tower. Again, we only had a short time to refresh ourselves before dressing for dinner. It was a lovely meal, made all the nicer by our meeting a British couple at the next table, Janet and Eric Cooper from Kent.

Tournus

Cluny

Taize

Ige 21

Tuesday, September 17

Le Puy-en-Velay

The next morning we awoke to another sunny day. It was almost warm enough to have breakfast in the garden but we chose to remain in the airy sunroom and enjoy our café au lait there. But before setting out, we walked through the garden with its abundant flowers and little hidden stream. On departure, our route took us back through Cluny but we did not stop, as our itinerary was too full to permit us to await the opening of the museum. We first drove 71 kilometers to Paray-le-Monial and the Basilique de Sacré Coeur. Built in the early 12th century by the Cluniac Order, it constitutes the same architectural design as the abbey at Cluny, but on a smaller scale. This gave us the opportunity to picture how Cluny must have looked in its heyday. The church has simple twin square buttressed towers and a high nave. The few decorative elements make generous use of geometric motifs, rather than the capital carvings of Biblical scenes that we had noted in other churches we had visited. We continued through Roanne and Clermont-Ferrand for 172 kilometers to Mozac. We savored the natural beauty of the Auvergne, the volcanic cones of the distant mountains, hazy purple against the sky. We noticed too that the roofing materials had changed and we were now seeing red tiles, a preview of the south. Abbatiale St-Pierre at Mozac is famous for its Romanesque capitals and for the reliquaries in its treasury. We parked next to an ancient calvary surrounded by baskets of crimson geraniums and entered the church. The upper levels of the church collapsed in 15th century, probably as the result of earthquakes, and the 22

church was rebuilt on a more modest scale by the abbot, Raymond de Marcenat, around 1460. Fortunately, the remains from the Romanesque period include several remarkable capitals, some of which have been removed from columns in the ambulatory and now rest on the floor of the nave. One depicts female saints around the tomb of Christ holding jars of perfume while soldiers guarding the tomb are fast asleep. The soldiers' coats of chain mail, their conical helmets and their oblong shields gave us a vivid impression of 12th century armor. The capitals on the nave pillars depict Bible stories and mythical beasts and the expressions on the carved faces are astonishing, as exemplified by one that captures the shocked expressions on the faces of the boatmen as an unfortunate Jonah is cast into the sea. Jake and I kept busy with our cameras. We drove 60 kilometers to Issoire, on the banks of the Couze de Pavin. The Eglise St-Austremoine, built in the 12th century, was once a church of the Benedictines but is now a working parish church. The east end of the exterior offers a perfect example of the “Auvergnat pyramid” with its graceful upward terracing effect from chapel to tower. The exterior of the apsidal chapels are decorated with corbels and mosaics representing the signs of the Zodiac. Although the nave is striking for its magnificent proportions, we found the garish 19th century painting of the 12th century capitals to be disconcerting. The capitals offer whimsical Romanesque carving but are heavily colored in golds, reds and blues.

Paray-le-Monial

Mozac 24

Issoire 25

Another 39 kilometers brought us to Brioude. Jake had overruled lunch in order to enable us to see the day’s full quota of five churches. Brioude is a small bustling town situated on a terrace overlooking the lush Allier plain. The Basilique StJulien is the largest Romanesque church in the Auvergne, a vast stone-built shrine standing over the tomb of Bernard Craplet. The interior has a warm feel due to the shades of red sandstone in the walls and pillars. Again, however, it was the Romanesque carving on the capitals that captured our attention. Much to my delight, I discovered a green man offset by a green woman on the opposite side of the nave. Other carvings of animals and narrative scenes are united by the use of acanthus leaves. A recording of strange childlike chanting music tended to humanize the massive church. Already past 5:30 PM, we encountered several construction detours and delays in crossing the hills to La Chaise-Dieu. The abbey overlooks the lush gently rolling countryside at a height of 1000 meters and dominates the small town. The abbey, solidly built of granite, exudes grandeur and austerity. The chancel is surrounded by 144 beautifully carved oak choir stalls dating from the 15th century. On three sides of the chancel enclosure are a series of extraordinary 16th century Flemish tapestries extending a distance of 100 feet. The tapestries are in excellent condition and retain much of their original brilliance. The

subjects they depict are drawn from the Poor Man’s Bible of the Middle Ages and they are further enhanced by beautiful Gothic script. In an adjacent building are additional tapestries of the birth of Christ (with a memorable wistful cow overseeing those encroaching on his manger) and a scene of the crucifixion. We thought we were tired until we feasted on these beautiful works of art. We arrived at Le Puy-en-Velay at dusk after driving an additional 47 kilometers, a total of over 440 kilometers for the day, and attempted to find our hotel. A city of almost 22,000, Le Puy was not easy to get around in rush hour, and we had some difficulties finding the Hotel Regina in the middle of town among a series of one-way streets. Although the Regina is Michelin’s top-rated hotel in town and we had the best room in the place, it was disappointing. We were really tired by the time we arrived and the atmosphere of the hotel did nothing to lift our spirits. We parked the car in an adjacent garage and again had to hurry to honor our dinner reservations. We ate at Le Tournayre, a Bib Gourmand located in a 16th century space. Although the surroundings were interesting, our meal was ordinary and was not enhanced by an office party of 20 or so a nearby table whose animated conversations dominated the room. By the time we completed our meal and walked back to the hotel, we were ready to fall into bed.

Brioude

La Chaise-Dieu 28

Wednesday, September 18

Fontvielle

A night of rest and a new day made all the difference. Deciding to forego breakfast at the hotel we made our way uphill along the Rue des Tables and up the steps to the Cathedral NotreDame, a Romanesque building with an Oriental appearance that can be attributed to Byzantine influences from the crusades. The west end of the cathedral is cantilevered over the entrance steps causing one to ascend and enter in the middle of the nave. As one exits near the crossing, it is said that one “enters at the navel and exits at the ear.” Rather than a barrel vault, a series of domes cover the nave. We visited the cloisters where we saw more Romanesque carvings on the capitals and an intriguing cornice depicting a medieval bestiary. On the way back, we stopped in several dentelle (lace) shops and found a lace-making center where we purchased antique bobbins and an old lace pattern. Le Puy lace-making techniques have been passed down from mother to daughter since the 15th century and are known throughout the world. Nearby we found a café where we had coffee and a croissant amongst the flies and watched an elderly man nearby whose dog was sitting beside him with its head on the table. We returned to the Regina and checked out. After collecting our car we made our way out of town, stopping briefly to photograph Chapelle St-Michel d’Aiguilhe perched high above us on a slim pinnacle of rock, choosing to eschew the precipitous 268-step climb to the top. The day had started off grey and, coupled with the tacky hotel and a mediocre breakfast, we both felt a bit subdued. However, we perked us substantially as we drove southeast through progressively more arid country toward the gorges formed by the River Ardéche.

Shortly before we arrived at the road through the gorges, we noticed a sign for Balazuc, a tiny fortified town featured in a book Jake had purchased before our departure. We decided to take a detour and go into the village to see it for ourselves. We discovered the first of several “Les Plus Beau Villages de France.” Sections of the village were an artists’ colony with narrow streets, difficult but delightful to drive through. We continued through Balazuc, crossed the river above which it is perched, and were treated to an enchanting view back, with redroofed cottages nestled into the surrounding cliffs. Happy that we had discovered this little gem, we continued towards the gorges. The Gorges of the Ardéche offer one of the most beautiful sites of natural beauty in France. The road, to quote Michelin, is “audaciously engineered” but Jake maneuvered the curves like a pro, and I was even able to avert my eyes occasionally and enjoy the incredible views before us. We stopped at several of the starred sites: Pont d’Arc, where the river flows under a natural arch, Belvédère du Serre de Tourre, where the river makes a double meander, and the Haute Corniche, overlooking a miniature Grand Canyon and perhaps the most outstanding section of the drive. We stopped and picnicked on some of the wine, cheese and sausage that we had bought in Paris, pleased that nothing had spoiled in the four days since we purchased them. Miriam had asked that I bring her a rock from the Auvergne. Accordingly, I picked up a smooth rock to bring back, uncertain whether we had already crossed into Provence.

Balazuc 31

Our next destination was the famous Pont Du Gard. Jake felt it was important for me to see it. We parked the car in the new lot whose vast area accommodates the summer hoards but tempers the remote charm that Jake recalled from 40 years earlier. The aqueduct was part of a 2000-yearold Roman system which brought spring water from Uzès to Nîmes. As we stood there, we noted the destruction along the banks of the river. The devastating recent flooding in southern France had propelled whole trees down the Gard, scouring the banks and exposing the foundations of the aqueduct. It is amazing that this structure has continued to survive in good condition for so many years. We returned to our car and made our way to Avignon in order to take a look at this center of art and culture on the Rhône River. The city is the site of the “Babylonian Captivity,” a period of 70 years when the papacy resided in Avignon, not Rome. A vast palace was constructed and Simone Martini was imported from Sienna to decorate the papal apartments with frescos. Because it was already after 5:00 PM, it was too late for us to tour the apartments. Instead we decided to get a feel of the city by car. We drove around the Place de l’Horloge with its outdoor cafés and through narrow streets packed with rush-hour shoppers. However, when we found ourselves entering a maze of increasingly narrow passages, I expressed some concern. Jake pressed on undaunted, encountering surprised pedestrians who tried to flatten themselves against the ancient walls so that we could pass.

Eventually we came upon a post in the middle of the street that prevented us from going further. In order to avoid backing up several hundred meters, Jake attempted to turn. Without the assistance of several amused volunteers who supervised our minute progress (as we barely avoided scratching the side of our car with an insidiously-placed power pole), we would never have made it. But with much motioning and signaling from our assistants, we continued our endeavor and, at last, patience was rewarded and we headed in the opposite direction, only to be met by a similar post at the other end of the passageway. A luxury hotel had been created in a 400-year-old building in the shadow of the papal palace and in order to provide automobile access to hotel guests through the medieval pedestrian passageways, mechanical posts that retract into the pavement had been constructed to bar through traffic. It appeared that we had unknowingly entered the passageway during one of the brief periods that the post had been lowered for a hotel guest and we were now trapped. Recognizing our predicament, a woman spoke to the hotel staff through a call box we had not previously noticed and prevailed upon them to release us. Slowly the 10-inch-diameter post retracted into the pavement and we were free at last, somewhat chagrined by our adventure. This experience provided yet another example contradicting the reputation of the French as aloof and Anglophobic, while, in our experience, actually being generous and helpful to their visitors.

Pont du Gard

Pont du Gard Flooding

It took us 40 minutes in rush-hour conditions to travel the 32 kilometers to Fontvielle where we had an unplanned tour of the town, as for twenty minutes we attempted to find the Regalido. The whole town had a festive southern flair, with colorful fabrics for sale hanging outside its shops. The hotel, a Relais & Chateaux with a Michelin star, is set in the midst of a lush little garden and I knew at first glance that it was a winner. Our room was charming with a red tile floor, ProvenĂ§al fabrics and its own enclosed porch. We settled in and quickly changed for dinner, starting the evening with a Kir Royale in the little garden (with the best olives weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d ever tasted), followed by a very enjoyable dinner featuring fresh local ingredients.

Thursday, September 19

Beaurecueil

The next morning we awoke to the first rain of the trip. We had breakfast in our room due to a misunderstanding that turned out to be a lovely mistake and enjoyed our café au lait and croissants on our little porch. We ignored the misty rain, checked out and headed for the village of Les Baux, located on a plateau of bleached rock that provided sanctuary for its former inhabitants. Consisting of the ruins of a fortified castle and some desolate houses, it nonetheless created an imposing picture. Now the narrow streets are home to countless shops and artisan galleries but it was fun to take a look. Jake and I came across a group making a film in period costumes with sword fighters and a damsel in distress, which added a bit of atmosphere to what had started as a grey day. We passed miles of olive groves as we headed for the auto route. Our plan was to drive east until we reached the outskirts of Nice and then make our way back along the water, taking in the views and atmosphere of the Riviera. We made great time along the auto route, staying out of the way of the Ferraris and Lamborghinis that came from nowhere and flashed out of sight. Exiting just west of Nice, we began our way back through St-Jean-Cap-Ferrat and Menton. We drove through Cannes, past venues for the film festival and the great hotels that lined the shore. Shops and cafés proliferated and people

and cars were everywhere. We encountered mounting traffic, fighting busses, trucks, vans, cars, motorcycles, mopeds and bikes, all vying for their place on the road. Just when we asked each other what else could possibly be taking up the road, a motorized wheelchair appeared and whizzed down the street with all the rest. We did manage to pull over to view the Esterel Massif and Cap Roux. The views of the Côte d’Azur were magnificent, as the day had turned to brilliant sunlight. When at last we reached St-Tropez, it was so crowded that it was evident that we would not be able to park anywhere near the water. Frustrated by the congestion, we turned south to Ramatuelle and then west to Toulon. The final leg of our marathon 12-hour drive took us in torrential rain through small villages with plane trees lining the road to the foot of Mont Ste-Victoire, the mountain that was the subject of so many Cézanne paintings. In the small village of Beaurecueil, we found our hotel, the Relais Ste-Victoire, in a secluded spot. Our room was rather strange, with a sliding glass door and no windows, the walls covered with green cloth. We made another quick change for dinner and enjoyed local cuisine and cheeses and local rosé wine.

Les Baux-de-Province

Friday, September 20

Port-Camargue

It was very foggy when we awoke the next morning. We drove towards the foot of Ste-Victoire hoping to find a view of the mountain to photograph but were disappointed that it remained engulfed in fog. We continued west towards Aix-en-Provence and had only driven a few kilometers when the fog began to disappear. We drove through the city of Aix in brilliant sunshine, along the Cours Mirabeau (a wide avenue shaded by plane trees, which is the hub of Aix). We circled the city and penetrated its old sections by car but did not stop. Again we followed the auto route to Arles, the ancient Roman capital and a major religious center in the Middle Ages. We were lucky to find a place to park close to the city center and principle tourist sites and walked to the old part of the city. We proceeded to Eglise St-Trophime to view its rich sculptural façade and to visit its cloister, renowned for the elegance of its carved decoration. The most beautiful parts of the cloister are the corner pillars that have low relief carvings of Biblical figures. In the southeast corner is a cistern that was created from the base of an

ancient column from the nearby Roman theater. I located an antique shop that I had hoped to visit but it was closed for lunch. We decided to stop for a bite to eat ourselves, and chose a little café with outdoor tables. We ordered pizza and a carafe of wine and sat back to enjoy the food and our time together. Unfortunately, I splattered some sauce on the woman seated next to me when my knife slipped. I was quite embarrassed but she took no offence and good-naturedly signaled that the wash would take care of it. Later I became aware of the music that the café was playing and asked the waitress about it. She showed me the CD cover picturing Natasha St-Pierre, and directed me to a record store where I could find it. Feeling that the music would be a nostalgic reminder of our trip together, I went around the corner and bought the CD while Jake was finishing his wine. On the way back I checked again on the antique shop but it was still closed. I resigned myself to the disappointment, nonetheless giving Jake full credit for going along with my antiquing attempts.

Seventeen kilometers to the west of Arles is St-Gilles whose old abbey church has a façade similar to that at St-Trophime. Indeed, the doorways of both are very similar, depicting Christ in Majesty with symbols of the four Evangelists. However, the façade of St-Gilles, though in need of a cleaning, is elegant and delicate and is considered to be one of the finest examples of Romanesque architecture in the south of France. A frieze represents the Passion of Christ, a concept quite new in medieval art. Shown successively are the Arrest in the Garden of Olives, the Judgment of Pilate, the Flagellation, and the Carrying of the Cross. We drove through the Camargue, the 328 square-mile alluvial plain that is the product of the interaction of the Rhône, the Mediterranean and the wind. Consisting of salt flats and natural lagoons, much of the Camargue has been designated a nature preserve and is renowned for its bird life and wild horses. We drove an additional 50 kilometers to the walled city of Aigues Mortes, standing in solitary glory as a fortified city in the midst of pools

and sea marshes. In the 13th century it was the port of embarkation for the Seventh Crusade. We parked outside the walls and entered through the Porte de la Gardette. We were overwhelmed by a glut of souvenir shops and mini-grocery stores. At first we were disappointed but on reflection concluded that the sights that we encountered were probably not too different from those seen by one entering these same walls in the 13th century, when it was flourishing for other reasons. We walked the crowded streets, bought a couple of melons to enjoy later and a tablecloth of Provençal fabric. We drove an additional 10 kilometers to the newly developed resort town of Port-Camargue, a yachting community. Our room at the Spinnaker Hotel was modern and included a patio overlooking the pool. It was just a bit too cool to go for a swim although we watched a hardy German fellow take the plunge while we shared a drink before dinner. There was a special jazz trio that Friday night, and we enjoyed the evening’s festivities.

St-Gilles-du-Gard 43

Aigues-Mortes

Port-Camargue 45

Saturday, September 21

Castelnou

In the morning we asked for our breakfast to be served on the patio and were joined by a friendly dog that waited patiently for Jake to relent and share his baguette. Before checking out and getting underway, we purchased a couple of tins of Camargue fleur de sel, harvested from the saltpans we had seen on our drive the previous day. Our first stop that morning was the Abbaye de Fontfroide, an old Cistercian abbey tucked deep in a little valley in the Corbières, surrounded by cypress trees. The only way to enter the abbey was to join a French language tour so we decided to explore the surrounding area on our own. We made our way high up the hill overlooking the abbey and its outbuildings and took pictures of its picturesque situation. I visited the gift shop on the way out and purchased an old resingathering pot that had once been used by the monks. Driving though hilly wine country, we passed grape gatherers in the fields. We stopped and asked if we could take a photograph and the workers were more than accommodating, laughingly posing for Jake. We approached a truck that had stopped along the

road, loaded with luscious grapes, and Jake asked to photograph the driver, while I took close-up shots of the harvest. It was wonderful to experience the wine areas of France at this time of year. We will share these memories when we share a glass of wine! Seeking Château de Peyrepertuse, we first passed Château de Quéribus, looking like “a thimble on a thumb,” and continued to climb up the rugged slope to the ruined fortress that we sought. We started out on foot and made the steep climb over rocks and roots, passing an unnerving buzzing of some kind of insect, to the lower castle on the tip of a tapering promontory. While Jake stayed below, I continued up to the higher Château St-Jakes, pulling myself along with the help of a chained handrail. At the top, I had a glorious view of the lower fortress and of the whole valley below. A group of German students were up at the top, singing songs of the Cathars to the accompaniment of a guitar. I waved to Jake below, and climbed back down to rejoin him.

Fontfroide

Peyrepertuse

As we drove to St-Martin-du-Canigou, we found the scenery changing. The mountains became more lush and dense with trees and we saw houses made of grey stone with slate roofs. We arrived in Casteil and Jake decided that he could not climb up the hill with his problem ankle, but he insisted that I go. The road to the abbey is extremely steep and it took about 45 minutes to walk up. Occasionally, a four wheel drive jeep would make its way up, taking three turns to negotiate each hairpin. Walkers would step out of the way to allow the jeep as much room as possible. As people were descending, they would offer words of encouragement to those on the ascent. Finally, the abbey came into sight. I tried to find a spot to photograph the monastery from a distance and started to climb further up into the woods, but the path was precipitous and I was concerned about worrying Jake if I took too long. Instead I entered the abbey itself. There I found two early Romanesque churches, built over each other, the lower becoming the crypt. The cloister is small and has carvings on the capitals depicting an abbot, the beheading of John the Baptist and various demons. Three tombstones are embedded in the cloister walls. I found to my surprise that this “monastery in the mountains” is a working place of worship and contemplation and that it is now inhabited by the Community of the Beatitudes who welcome those who come to find retreat. I, too, found this quiet haven so far removed from the concerns of the world

to be a place of peace and serenity. Needless to say, the walk down was a lot faster and I was soon back with Jake. We had reservations at a gite (farm that offers accommodations) near the beautiful town of Castelnau-deMontmiral in the Pyrénées. Domaine de Querubi is an old Catalan farmhouse (mas) from the 12th century that is owned and managed by Françoise and Roland Nabet. We arrived in a pounding rain with thunder and lightening all around us. Roland ushered us in and welcomed us, pouring us each an aperitif to enjoy until the rain slacked off enough for us to get to our room. That evening, they were also hosting a group of couples from Toulouse who were each celebrating the fiftieth birthday of one member. Just as we were about to get up and go to our room, Jake’s ankle started up with a vengeance and he was all but incapacitated. Eventually, Roland was able to help us to the room, but Jake was in no shape to join the happy crowd for dinner. It was all up to me to face twenty French-speakers for a family-style Catalan dinner. I did find that after a couple of glasses of wine, my language skills remarkably improved. I remembered all kinds of French—and German and Spanish, too. In any event, we all understood each other well enough, and had a wonderful evening filled with laughter and photographs and toasts and birthday cake.

Sunday, September 22

Toulouse

We awoke to the sound of the wind rattling our shutters, the air clean and fresh after a stormy night. I was very thankful that the morning brought a clear day and that Jake’s ankle had dramatically improved. After breakfast with my new friends of the night before, we went into Castelnau. Perched on a spur of rock high above the Vère Valley, this little gem of a village was founded as a bastide in the 13th century by Raymond VII, Count of Toulouse (of Cathar fame) to replace a stronghold that was razed during the Albigensian Crusade. We walked up the steep cobblestone streets and saw several potteries and artisan shops that were housed there. Sunday precluded any shopping, so we took some photos and continued to the Prieuré de Serrabone. Located up a steep, winding road in a bleak part of Roussillon known as Les Aspres, the Serrabone priory gives no indication at all of its presence. Similarly, its stark and forbidding appearance as we approached gave no indication of the wealth of sculpted ornamentation within. Inside was a pink marble tribune with ten richly-carved columns depicting all manner of animals with animated expressions. We also found Oriental-like carvings on the capitals in the gallery, which jutted out over a ravine. Jake kept cautioning me to be careful as I leaned out to better center my photographs. From a guidebook we learned that the Oriental influence is not unusual in Romanesque sculpture in the Roussillon area of France. We walked around the outside of the priory and up the hill behind it 54

seeking a view before retracing our path to Thuir. We drove 45 kilometers east to Elne and to the Cathédrale Ste-Eulalie-SteJulie. As we walked through the streets to the cathedral, we noticed a Catalan atmosphere in this town of about 6,000. Laundry was hanging out and we heard Spanish-Arab music wafting from the open windows. Once in the cathedral, we concentrated on the beautiful cloisters, three sides of which are Gothic and one, Romanesque. We particularly enjoyed the depiction of Adam and Eve on one of the capitals in the Romanesque south gallery. We continued along the shore of the Mediterranean and past the village of Banyuls (home of the sweet wine aperitif that I had sampled the night before) to Collioure. Jake remembered this small town on the Côte Vermeille as particularly attractive and wanted to show it to me. Indeed, with its fortified church that seems to lie in the sea, its outdoor cafés and colorful boats docked nearby, it has long been a tourist attraction and the subject of paintings. A profusion of sidewalk artists displayed their canvasses for all to see. We walked along the flower-decked promenade and shared a sandwich, watching the families at play on the beach. Collioure has been famous for its anchovies for generations and Jake took a photograph of an old anchovy sign. Several boules players were in a friendly competition we walked back to our car and we stopped to watch their practiced skill.

Castelnou 55

Serrabone 56

Elne 57

Collioure

Concerned about the time, we almost didn’t go to the next church on our itinerary but were very glad we did. At the small church at St-Andre Sorède we found the lintel of Christ in Majesty with His angels over the front portal. So lovely is this bas relief that it serves as one of the title pages of a book we have on French art and architecture. On reflection, one sees that the sculpture is not as primitive as it first appears, for the drapery minutely details the bodies beneath. It was one of the favorite carvings we saw. At St-Genis-de-Fontaines we saw a lintel on the front portal that is very similar to the one at StAndre, most likely an earlier carving by the same sculptor. This lintel features Christ with the Apostles and has great charm. The whole portal area is very lovely; and is the best part of the church. We visited the cloisters but found the capitals there severely eroded and indecipherable in spite of obvious stabilization efforts. We found many of the motifs we had seen before repeated: the mermaid holding her split tail, Adam and Eve, a charming little naked man. However, all the precious detail of expression has been lost. The church itself was rather fussed up with lots of statues--one had even been dressed like a mannequin. We next took the autoroute to Carcassonne. This fortified town, the largest in Europe, was extremely crowded. A carousel greeted us at the entrance and there were souvenir shops and postcard vendors at every turn. However, the crowds and shops did not mar this magnificent site. We walked along the ramparts and looked out over the Aude valley with the mountains in the distance, envisioning the bloody siege successfully suppressing the Cathars because of their heretical 60

beliefs (the Albigensian Heresy), by Arnaud-Amaury, the papal legate on Raymond-Roger Trencavel, the Viscount of Carcassonne. We walked into the Basilique St-Nazaire where an organ demonstration was taking place. Virtually every seat was taken in contrast to all the empty churches that we had visited. Outside we saw an hotel where Jake had unsuccessfully attempted to secure reservations but decided that we were pleased not to be staying there. Our destination for the night was Toulouse. One of the largest cities in France and with a population of over 650,000, Toulouse is the home of Airbus and France’s aeronautical industry. It is a beautiful city, predominately constructed of red brick. The huge central square, the Place du Capitole, is lined with columned arcades and dominated by the façade of the majestic Capitole, the 18th century city hall. Our hotel, the elegant Grand Hotel d’Opera, is on the square, adjacent to the Capitole. Although we had difficulties finding the hotel, we finally prevailed and were met by a doorman who removed our bags and whisked away our car. Our room was lovely but its low ceiling, crimson wallpaper and dark wood paneling gave the appearance of a high-class brothel. Nude sketches by Matisse graced the walls, completing the effect. Seeking local food, we inquired at the desk and were sent to Le Bon Vie. There we joined an entire restaurant of Americans, all looking for the same thing. I ordered the traditional cassoulet, and Jake ordered pigs’ feet and veal head (why am I not surprised?) Unfortunately the food was not very good but we made the best of it and then enjoyed our walk back to the hotel.

St-Andre-de-Sorede St-Genis-des-Fontaines 61

Monday, September 23

Albi

We breakfasted the next morning at the Florida CafĂŠ on the square, where we enjoyed our croissant and fresh orange juice. We walked to the Basilique St-Sernin, the most famous of the great Romanesque pilgrimage churches in the south of France. Constructed of red brick and white stone, it boasts the largest collection of holy relics in France, making it a focus for pilgrims from all over Europe as they made their way to Santiago de Compostela. The church is extremely high and we wished that we could somehow get up to the gallery to get a closer look at the capital sculptures that tantalized from afar. Of particular beauty are the late 11th century low-relief sculptures on the curving outer wall of the crypt depicting Christ in Majesty with angels and apostles. We added these to our list of favorites of the trip. We tried to enter the MusĂŠe des Augustins where there is a renowned collection of Romanesque sculptures. Much to our disappointment, the museum was closed that day because of a security problem the day before. Instead, we substituted Les Jacobins, a late Gothic church and monastery built by friars to honor St-Jacques and counter the spread of the Albigensian heresy. The large nave is without aisles, has central columns and beautifully painted rib vaulting. After checking out of the hotel, we drove to Moissac,

an undistinguished little town on the banks of the Tarn except for the Eglise St-Pierre. The renowned church and its cloisters have been subjected to the assaults of the Hundred Years War, the Wars of Religion and the anti-clerical Reign of Terror of the French Revolution. Unfortunately, many of the sculptures have been disfigured, especially in the cloisters, where virtually no head remains on the capital carvings. However, the corner sculptures are intact and bear a striking resemblance to those that we had seen at St-Sernin. However, it is the tympanum above the south portal that is particularly impressive. Executed around the year 1130, it ranks as one of the finest examples of Romanesque sculpture in all of France. The theme of this majestic work is the Vision of the Apocalypse according to St. John the Evangelist. Perhaps most noteworthy is the central pier with two elongated figures carved on it: St. Paul on the left and an elongated and beautifully expressive Jeremiah on the right. They looked like old friends to us, as we had seen them reproduced before in books. After some careful hunting, I found a green man spewing his greenery on one side. Unfortunately, the interior walls of the church had been repainted and it was disconcerting to walk inside and find bright yellow walls.

St-sernin de Toulouse 65

Moissac 66

Before proceeding, we stopped by the banks of the Tarn to eat our melons. The weather was perfect, with a slight breeze and brilliant sunshine. Seventy-five kilometers of driving brought us to Cordes-sur-Ciel. We took the shuttle bus up to this Cathar village perched on top of a rocky outcrop. We walked around for a half-hour and noted an hotel, La Grande Ecuyer, where Jake had made and then cancelled reservations, as their restaurant would have been closed. It is a most attractive town with beautiful Gothic houses and cobblestone streets and was not overcrowded with tourists. We decided to visit the cathedral in Albi before checking in to our hotel. As we drove into the city, we saw the fortress-like CathĂŠdral SteCĂŠcile towering over the rooftops and the banks of the Tarn. The massive church was built in response to the Albigensian

crusade to re-establish the power of the Catholic Church. A heavily ornamented rood screen and an enormous 15th century mural of the Last Judgement dominate the interior. Perhaps we were tired after a full day, but it all seemed to be just too much. The charm and simplicity of the Romanesque sculpture had captured our hearts and our taste and soured us on some of the excesses of the Gothic. Retracing our steps out of town, we arrived at La Reserve, a red three-peak in a park beside the Tarn. The most expensive hotel of our trip, our room had a balcony overlooking an inviting pool. It was a shame that it was too cool to swim but the pool provided a pleasant backdrop during dinner (Jake had rabbit and I enjoyed a nice steak).

Tuesday, September 24

Lacave

We awoke to another sunny day but the temperature was a bit cooler than before. Before leaving Albi we drove back to town to take a photograph of the cathedral from the bridge over the Tarn. Continuing towards Conques, we followed a little side road down into the inviting little hamlet of Salles le Source. We saw a tiny church by a cemetery and stopped. We tried the door but were disappointed to find it locked. As we drove on, we savored views of hillside villages and crop terraces. Following a Michelin guidebook suggestion we ascended a narrow road for a panorama view of the peaceful village of Conques and its justly famous pilgrimage church. From the 11th through the 13th centuries a seemingly endless stream of pilgrims sought the Abbatiale Ste-Foy, one of the most important sites on the journey to Compostela. The tympanum above the west door of the abbey is a masterpiece of 12th century Romanesque sculpture. Depicting the Last Judgment, there are 124 figures representing the juxtaposition between souls at peace and souls in torment. One could contemplate the ensemble for hours and keep discovering new delights. On the architrave, encircling the tympanum is a series of little â&#x20AC;&#x153;curious menâ&#x20AC;? peeking through to look at the goings-on. Because the treasury was closed for lunch, we were forced to slow down and have lunch ourselves. We ordered salads and a carafe of wine at the Parvis CafĂŠ across from the entrance, savoring the tympanum sculpture while we ate. After lunch we walked

through the adjoining cloisters (where we saw a delightfully stoic green man standing guard) and into the magnificent treasury where among a comprehensive collection of relics we again found the golden statue of tiny Ste-Foy that we had encountered at the Louvre while we were on our honeymoon last year. Driving on toward Figeac through the Lot valley, we stopped at St-Pierre Toirac to see a small church dating from the 11th century. It was relatively unadorned but did have one interesting capital. Behind the church we found some ancient sarcophagi that had been recently discovered. We continued to St-Cirq-Lapopie, a tiny hamlet of 187 residents with a remarkable setting, perched high above the Lot on a rocky escarpment that drops vertically to the river. A lookout provided lovely panoramas of the valley and, as we moved away from town, we found striking views looking back. We did not walk through the streets of the village because it was our experience that often the best part of these villages is seeing them from a distance. It was already late afternoon. We drove towards Cahors to get on the auto route to Souillac and its Abbey Ste-Marie. Of most interest to us was the carving on the doorway that included a low-relief Isaiah which bears a strong resemblance to the Jeremiah at Moissac. An engaged pillar on the right of the Isaiah is richly carved, depicting monstrous animals intertwined, gripping and devouring one another.

Souillac

Although we were glad to have stopped at Souillac, it was 7:30 PM when we arrived at our hotel. We had particularly anticipated staying at ChĂ˘teau de la Treyne in Lacave, and were impressed as we drove in by the extensive and elegant formal gardens. With four red peaks and a star, as well as a special green guide star, we knew we were in for something special. Well, it was special all right: even with credit cardguaranteed reservations, this Relais & Chateaux hotel had

overbooked and there was no room for us. There was no point in arguing; the inn was full. We were sent to another place about four kilometers down the road, the Pont de lâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Ouysse, but even with a Michelin star, there was no comparison. It was our only choice so we made the best of it. Dinner was nice, with local wines and cheeses, and the room was adequate. Our night in a palace would have to be another time.

Wednesday, September 25

Le Buisson-de-Cadouin

We had a foggy start the next morning as we headed for Rocamador, hoping that the fog would burn off so that we could get special photographs of what Michelin says is one of the most extraordinary places in France. With its slender castle keep towering above and masses of old dwellings intertwined against the rugged face of the cliff, Rocamador is unique. We entered the city gates and passed by the ubiquitous shops, taking the 141 steps up to the Chapelle Notre-Dame where a hermit is believed to have hollowed out an oratory in the rock. It was here that we found a Black Madonna. We walked though the maze of chapels that are carved against the rock and made our descent to the town below. As we drove away, we kept a sharp lookout for good vantage point back and were rewarded with evocative views as the fog lifted. Beaulieu-surDordogne is a town built on the right bank of the Dordogne River and is famous for its Romanesque church that was once part of a Benedictine abbey. The most significant sculpture of the Eglise St-Pierre is the “Welcoming Christ” tympanum on its south portal that was created by the same craftsmen who worked on the carvings at Moissac and Souillac. Jake and I were delighted that we were now seeing the connection in the

works that we were visiting. Driving back through Souillac (should we have saved a visit there for this day and perhaps saved our hotel reservations??) we continued to Sarlat-laCanéda in the heart of the Périgord Noir. Perfectly preserved, this bustling city has the atmosphere of a medieval market town. We walked the streets, noticing especially the proliferation of shops selling truffles and foie gras, and stopped for a photo of the bronze geese at Place des Oies, or “Goose Square” where people come from far and wide to haggle over the price of geese. Another 13 kilometers brought us to Domme, remarkably situated on a rocky crag overlooking the Dordogne valley. The panorama view of the valley from Domme is in itself worth the drive up. We chose not to visit the bastide but just walked through the town, again noting the abundance of foie gras and related products for sale in every shop. We drove through the village of La Roque-Gageac, huddled against a cliff that drops vertically to the Dordogne. We stopped to take pictures of the houses with their tile roofs contrasting with the stone cliffs behind, all reflected in the river below.

Sarlat-la- caneda 77

Domme 78

la roque-gageac 79

Beynac-et-Cazenac was our next destination, a village tucked at the foot of a cliff by the river and overshadowed by a formidable stronghold towering above. We did not visit the château as it involved an expensive French-language tour, choosing instead to enjoy another beautiful site. I walked up behind the château and found a slightly different but very lovely Dordogne panorama. No wonder people favor this part of France! As we were leaving, I discovered a little antique shop and found a couple of treasures including a large porcelain soap dish for which I could think of many uses. Evening was approaching, and we stopped once more to buy a bottle of wine to enjoy later. It is

too bad we didn’t have our own container as they sold wine from large vats for 2.10 € per liter. As we drove along, Jake made a point that British drivers seem to be the slowest on the road and that the more heads one sees in a GB car, the slower it seems to go. Subsequent experience seemed to confirm the theory. We noticed that the days were starting to look more like fall—the light was turning golden and the sunshine was crisp and bright. We reached Buisson-de-Cadouin and Bellerive Manor about 6:00 PM; early enough to allow us time to enjoy a drink on the terrace overlooking a pleasant garden. It wasn’t La Treyne, but then, that will always be the one that got away!

Thursday, September 26 Morning brought another perfect day as we awoke late enough for most of the morning fog to have burned off. Jake had not planned too much for the day, giving us the opportunity to just see where the road would take us. We did go into the village of Cadouin to take a look at the abbey there but found it to have nothing of particular interest to us. Its fame rested historically on a shroud that was said to have been wrapped around the head of Christ. The shroud was later found to be bogus, thus ending the church’s attraction as a pilgrimage site. We felt that the cloisters, being Gothic, did not warrant our paying the admission, so we continued our drive through orchards and cornfields. Three antique adventures followed at this point. A brochure that I picked up at the shop in Beynac enticed me into trying to find other shops in the area. First we drove to Le Bugue and, although we found the shop there, it had nothing of interest to us. Next we drove to a tiny hamlet called Le Muscle, where we found signs that directed us up a hill on a little road to the shop of Marie Nousbaum. The tantalizing ad promised “objets anciens de qualité.” After following the road until it became a lane, we came to little gingerbread cottage on a plateau overlooking the Vezere River with a white cat in the garden and a weathered sign proclaiming “Antiquities.” But no one was around! An old bell hung by the closed gate. I rang and rang to no avail. How disappointing! It would have made

Brantome such a good story to tell Sharon. Our third stop was in Meyrals, where we could not even find the shop. At that point, I felt that I had tried Jake’s patience as much as I should. We drove on to Les Ezies-de-Tayac, “Capital of Prehistory” because of its proximity to Lascaux and the other sites where Cro-Magnon man carved relief sculptures and created paintings in the limestone caves. We took photographs and paused to buy some bottled water and a fougasse (stuffed bread) to take along for lunch later. We passed through farmlands, seeing herds of geese and stopping to take a picture of a flock of the “pre-fois gras”. Noticing a sign for St-Leon-sur-Vézère, purported to be one of “Les Plus Beau Villages de France,” we decided to give it a try. It was a charming little town with the river running through it, two castles and a fine little Romanesque church. As we walked past a little garden restaurant called Petit Leon, I suggested to Jake that we have lunch there. Wooden tables were set up under some apple trees, and a couple of old dogs were asleep in the sun. We ordered the lunch special and a bottle of wine, and had a most delightful meal. Afterwards, we walked to the little church and paused on the bank of the river under a weeping willow tree, enjoying this place and our time together. Our departure was marred, however, when an angry fellow chastised us for parking near his camper.

les-eyzies-de-tayac

St-Leon 82

We drove on through Lascaux, deciding not to wait for the tour of the recreation of the prehistoric cave of Lascaux (the original of which Jake had toured in 1960), and continued to Périgeux. This city of over 50,000 is home to the Cathédrale St-Front, one of the largest in southwest France and one of the most curious. It looks much like Sacré Cœur in Paris, for which it was a model. Byzantine in style, it has a great dome and is built in the form of a Greek cross, which is quite uncommon in France. Our destination for the night was Brantôme, in the Dronne valley, and the Moulin de l’Abbaye (a Relais & Chateaux with one Michelin star). Our room was charming: four windows, beautiful Provençal fabrics, and a sitting area with a sofa, table and a stack of travel books. We settled ourselves and then went out to take a walk along the river and through the town. We discovered a little shop that

Perigueux

boasted “Antiquities—Boisson” and went in to a combination bar and antiques shop. We found a small “Suze” ice bucket and bought it from the British bartender. This was certainly the first time I had ever shopped in such a combination shop. Not such a bad idea! Unfortunately, it was too cool to sit out on the hotel terrace by the river but we enjoyed dinner in the attractive dining room that overlooked it. We imagined that this place must be absolutely beautiful in the summer with all the doors thrown open to the riverbanks and flowers in profusion. The restaurant was decorated in yellow and blue toile and everything blended perfectly, right down to the dishes. After dinner we took a walk in the cool evening and Jake took time exposures, trying to capture the beauty of the illuminated bridge and Gothic buildings.

Moulin de l’Abbaye 83

Friday, September 27

Amboise

We woke up to the alarm clock as Jake had a lot planned for us on our last full day out of Paris. We felt fortunate to have another fine day. We began at Angoulême and its Cathédrale St-Pierre. The façade of this massive church is impressive: an enormous sculpted tableau in which 70 characters portray the Last Judgement. At the center Christ is surrounded by angels, evangelists and saints. The work was later and more realistic and seemed to lack some of the charm of the earlier Romanesque sculpture we so love. Inside, the nave consists of a series of three domes, rather than the barrel vaults we had seen in other Romanesque churches. We drove north and west to Aulney and the Eglise St-Pierre, a World Heritage site. Set in an old cemetery among dark cypress trees, the church is striking in appearance and has some of the most charming sculpture we had seen. The harmony of the composition, the abundant and ornate and yet restrained decoration, and the warm patina of the old stone make this church a masterpiece of Romanesque regional sculpture. It had such charm that we decided that it gave Kilpeck in England a run for the money. Gazing at the church over the crooked

tombstones created a mood of otherworldliness and mystery. We were enchanted by the modillions that decorated the east side of the church: lovers embracing, a grimacing man, a little fellow sticking out his tongue, even an excellent green man—all tucked away, awaiting discovery. We knew that we would have to move on if we were to complete all that we had planned to see that day, so we drove to the city of Poitiers. With adjacent parking unavailable, Jake stopped briefly at Ste-Hilaire-la-Grande so that I could run in for a quick green man survey. I was glad that my search led me to see this massive church with its unusual interior that is the product of centuries of building and rebuilding. Our focus, however, was the Eglise Notre-Dame-la-Grande and its west front. The church stands as a supreme example of Romanesque art in France. The front dates from the 12th century and is a densely carved tableau of lively figures overseen by a Christ in Majesty who gazes down from the oval mandorla in the highest gable. On that bright afternoon the church seemed to be made of gold, as the sun brought out the warmth of the yellow stone.

Angouleme 85

Aulnay 86

Chauvigny 88

We drove east from Poitiers to Chauvigny. We found our way down steps and around walls to the Eglise St-Pierre, a Romanesque church that was built over time in the 11th and 12th centuries. The interior is in disrepair and the capitals have suffered from zealous repainting. However, the chancel capitals are quite fantastic. Representing various Biblical, evangelical and mythical scenes, they were enchanting and between us, we probably photographed every one. The mythical animals reminded me of Maurice Sendakâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Where the Wild Things Are. These monsters almost seemed cute, as they subjected poor sinners to terrible torments, but these scenes must have been frightening indeed to the people of the Middle Ages. We drove on to St-Savin, whose Romanesque abbey church is renowned for its complete set of mural paintings completed between the 11th and 13th centuries. The paintings, covering the entire nave ceiling, are both subtle in color and lively in depiction. It was wonderful to be able to compare these paintings to the sculpture in which we had been immersed for the past two weeks, noting that the simple, bold features of the faces and the rhythmic movements of the bodies were very like

their sculptural counterparts. The clerk in the church bookstore at St-Savin told us that Gregorian chants are sung each evening at nearby Fontgombault, an active Benedictine abbey. Intrigued at the thought of completing our journey with the opportunity to see and hear monks at worship, we hurried on our way. We arrived literally as the last note was dying away. We stood quietly in the narthex and watched the monks file out in their black cassocks. Though disappointed not to have been just minutes earlier, what we did experience was spiritually powerful. As evening approached, we drove towards Amboise through gently rolling countryside, noticing that slate roofs had once again replaced the red tile. Poor road signs prevented us from taking the shorter back roads to Amboise so that we arrived later than we had planned. Le Choiseul is a red threepeak one star hotel that had once been an 18th century residence on the Loire. Our room, up 43 steps to the upper level, obviously was not the master suite but it was large and had huge ceiling beams criss-crossing over our heads. Dinner in the manor house was delicious, and I particularly enjoyed my all-tomato menu.

Fontgombault 90

Saturday, September 28 Saturday morning we slept late, awaking again to brilliant sunshine. We dressed and walked along the Loire into town, finding a little patisserie, Le Bigot, where we had our breakfast. It beckoned us with beautiful candy creations in the window— chocolates and marzipan and molded candy treats. We chose our croissant and were served coffee at a tiny table in the back of the centuries-old room. Afterwards we walked along the walls under the chateau and stopped at a brocante shop that looked like the ones I used to frequent when we lived in Germany. Jake was patient while I picked out an old farmer’s jug to use in the kitchen for flowers. We returned to the hotel and spent some time rearranging our things so that we could more easily unload them when we got back to Paris. After checking out, we drove north to Chartres. We had hoped to have a tour with Malcolm Miller (whose lecture we had attended at the Art Institute of Chicago) but he was not in town. We admired the famous stained glass windows (including the Blue Virgin), examined the Biblical scenes depicted in the intricate screen, and savored the beauty of the famous Romanesque Royal Portal and the extensive sculpture on the north and south doorways. On the north portal, my eagle eye spotted an excellent green man choking on vines. Concerned about returning the car before the 7:00 PM closing, we left for Paris at the strike of three. We found our way into the city and located the Hotel Bourgogne et Montana (two red peaks) after successfully negotiating a maze of one-way streets. Amazingly,

Paris we found a parking place nearby and checked in, dropping off all of our bags and parcels, including the globe and the poster. The elevator was ancient and creaky but we were thankful for it, as we were on the 6th floor. We could not believe the size of our room: it was enormous for Paris and we were delighted. We had to leave immediately both to return the car and to honor early dinner reservations. However, we got into absolutely impossible traffic along the Quai de Tuilleries: buses, motor bikes and cars all vying with pedestrians, creating total gridlock. When at last we got through, we had a terrible time finding the Avis return location. Jake was afraid it would be closed and that we would be stuck with the car past its return date. We were getting panicky when at last we found it, precisely at seven, as the Avis personnel were in the process of locking up. On reflection, our Skoda had been a great little car after all. Taking the Metro, we decided to go directly to our dinner reservation at P’tit Troquet (a Bib Gourmand) and forego any idea of freshening up. It was a good decision, as we would have been very late. The restaurant was an old-fashioned bistro with tiny tables and apéritif signs from the twenties on the walls. Although several other American couples were there seeking the same atmosphere that we were, it was clear that none of us wanted to see the other! We tried a glass of Suze as an apéritif and confirmed that it was as dreadful as we had been told. As it was a perfect evening, we walked back to the hotel along the Quai d’Orsay. 91

Chartres 92

Sunday, September 29 – Monday, September 30

Our last day in France brought the gift of another brilliant morning. We had the usual breakfast at the hotel knowing that we had 12:30 PM lunch reservations. We walked across the I'le de Cité, passing the bird and flower markets, to the Pompadou Center where we looked in shop windows and hunted for postcards. Lunch at the traditional and wellknown Benoit (one star) was delightful. With lots of brass and etched glass and lace curtains, the atmosphere was evocative of times gone by. It was fun to watch the other diners: an older couple who chose their cheese course with great care, a middle-aged man enjoying lunch with his mother, a group of four gay men celebrating something. The owner and his wife worked quickly, keeping an eye on every detail. As appetizers I chose the Vichyssoise while Jake tried headcheese—some things do not change. After lunch we went to the Louvre, forgoing its better-known departments, to see the Romanesque sculpture. There were some nice examples, including two green men and a charming capital depicting grape growers and wine makers. We also looked at the other Romanesque artifacts, reliquary caskets and small decorative objects. It was interesting to see how much more we appreciated these items after

Paris - Chicago

learning so much of their context on our travels. From the Louvre we walked to the Musée D’Orsay, standing in a long line to see an exhibit of the influence of Velasquez and other Spanish painters of the 17th century on Manet and his 19th century French contemporaries. Jake offered knowledgeable explanations, giving me a greater understanding of the paintings. We returned to the hotel for a nap and then around 9:00 PM went to the nearby brasserie for a beer and a sandwich. Later, we took a walk around the quiet neighborhood before we turned in for the night.Monday morning brought the end of our 3000-mile twelfth century journey through France. We awoke late and took our time organizing things and packing before eating breakfast and checking out. Unfortunately, the elevator picked a bad time to break down, necessitating a 112-step walk down. (We wisely requested help with our bags.) After taking a taxi to the RER station, we once again negotiated those stairs down to the station with no small difficulty. At last we were on our way back to De Gaulle Terminal 2A and American Airlines flight 41 home-bound for Chicago.

Itinerary

Thursday

Depart ORD 7:30 PM AA 42

Friday

Arrive Paris 10:50 AM Room: Hotel Bourg-Tibourg, 4e (01-42-21-46-74) Dinner: Les Olivades

Saturday

Paris Room: Hotel Bourg-Tibourg

Sunday

Room: Grand Hotel de l’Opera, Toulouse (05-61-21-82-66) Monday

Tour Auxerre, Vezelay, Fontenay. Room and dinner: Hotel-Restaurant Lameloise, Chagny

Tuesday

Tour Beaune, Autun, Tournus, Cluny. Room and dinner: Chateau d’Ige, Ige (03-85-33-33-99)

Tuesday

Room and dinner: Chateaude la Treyne, Lacave (05-65-27-60-60) Wednesday

Room: Hotel Regina, Le Puy (04-71-09-14-71)

(05-53-22-16-16) Thursday

Tour Gorges d’Ardeche, Avignon, Les Baux. Room and dinner: Regalido, Fontvieille (04-90-54-60-22)

Thursday

Friday

Room and dinner: Le Choiseul, Amboise (02-47-30-45-45) Saturday

Dinner: P’tit Troquet Sunday

Room: Hotel Bourgogne et Montana Lunch: Benoit Monday

de Cuxa, Serrabone. Room and dinner: Mas de Querubi, Castelnou (04-68-53-18-42) 98

Paris Musee d’Orsay exhibition, Antiques show at Carousel Louvre

Tour Arles, Pont du Gard, St-Gilles, Aigues Mortes.

Tour Fontfroide, Peyrepertuse, St. Michel-du-Canigou, St. Michel

Tour Amboise, Fontrevault Abbey, Chinon, Chartres. Room: Hotel Bourgogne et Montana, 7e Paris (01-45-51-20-22)

(04-66-53-36-37)

Tour Angouleme, Aulnay, Poitiers, Chauvigny, St. Savin,

Fontgombault, Chenonceaux.

Room and dinner: Spinaker, Port Camargue, Grau-du-Roi

Saturday

Tour Lot and Dordogne Valleys, Perigueux. Room and dinner: Moulin de l’Abbaye, Brantome

Tour Antibes, Cannes, St. Tropez, Bandol. Room and dinner: Relais Ste-Victoire, Beaurecueil (04-42-66-94-98)

Friday

(05-53-05-80-22)

Dinner: Restaurant Tournayre, Le Puy Wednesday

Tour Sarlat, Domme, Beynac, Les Eyzies. Room and dinner: Manoir Bellerive, Buisson-de-Cadouin

Tour Paray-le-Monial, Anzy le Duc, Charlieu, Mozac (Riom), Issoire, Broude, la Chaise-Dieu, Le Puy.

Tour Cordes, Conques, Souillac, Beaulieu-sur-Dordogne, Castelnau, Rocamadour.

(03-85-87-65-65) Monday

Tour Toulouse, Moissac, Albi. Room and dinner: La Reverve, Albi (05-63-60-80-80)

Dinner: Ambassade d’Auvergne Sunday

Tour St. Andre de Sorede, St. Genis, Elne, Collioure, Carcassonne, Toulouse.

Depart CDG 2:30 PM AA 41 Arrive ORD 5:00PM

100

ÂŠ 2009 Susan Hanes George Leonard