Charles de Gaulle Airport

Why have I posted a picture of Singapore Airport when I am writing about CDG? Read on. Left the hotel at 8:30 and felt buoyant that we were headed homewards. I had not expected that Charles de Gaulle would be so very, very ordinary. Passport was shown to enter the line to join the check in queue. It was shown again to another person part way along that line and next at the actual check in desk. Singapore airlines is swift and pleasant in its service delivery. Considered shopping as we still had a few hours before our flight. Hmmm. What made me think that shopping opportunities would match those found in other International Airports that we have visited? Mistake number one for the day. Breakfast, second mistake of the day. We had not had breakfast at the beautiful Radisson as we thought it would be one way of spending some of the time we had prior to departure. Kiosk on one floor was shared by workmen grinding and or welding. The fumes throughout the area were overwhelming so just a quick coffee and croissant. Search for a quieter space. Third mistake of the day. Okay. three strikes and you are out or so I presumed. So off to security check. Shoes off, watch off, camera and laptop removed from bags. I pipped the security lights. Why? Not really sure. I was pad searched twice and asked to show under my shirt. It gets worse as the pad search officer then decided to pull at the waistband of my jeans and peer down. So public; more than slightly uncomfortable. She was so efficient in exposing and padding every private space on my body and she then just walked away. Was I her day's entertainment? She had done this to many others in the line and left them similarly vulnerable. I was left standing bewildered while she walked away. If you have a choice of airport I would not recommend Charles de Gaulle for its many interesting characteristics. Happy traveller????? Just passed through security at Singapore airport and had no unpleasant padding down, no invasions of privacy in a public space. Congratulations Singapore Airport! See the picture. Calm, quiet and orderly. Thank you.

Going Home -

Goodbye, France. We are in the home stretch. It was minus one degree in Fontainebleau this morning. A brisk walk through the garden and grounds of the chateau we didn't even raise a sweat before departing from our hotel. After battling traffic and long waits in merge lanes we arrived at Charles de Gaulle Airport just before midday. Two hours to travel fifty kilometres. Queues to enter last minute service stations were so long that it was not wise to even consider joining them so we left the rental car in the parking lot. The tank has what is has. Our last memory of France will be positive! Keys checked. Taxi summoned and we were on our way to the Radisson Blu. Lunch in the restaurant, yes, great idea. I am sitting here reflecting on how much we have seen and learnt from our visit. France, its people and its deep history have enriched our lives. Tomorrow we will fly home. During our visit we were surprised that so many people thought us to be Italian. My command of Italian is so much worse than my appalling French so I am glad for Italy that I am Australian. My apologies to all Italians. If greeted with Bongornio we responded similarly and with a smile so as not to offend. Packing is almost complete. Flight will be long so I expect that the limo ride home may offer some time to cat nap.

Fontainebleau

Beautiful, big and bold is my way of expressing my impressions of the chateau of Fontainebleau. As you enter the garden walk and thence, the forecourt, you are struck by the enormity of the buildings that rise in front of you. I had not expected to be confronted by a 1900 room chateau. In one sense the outer buildings and structures are not in themselves magnificent in style or design. It is the interior that makes this one of the finest chateaus to visit. So many rooms that are open to the general public are well furnished. In some cases we have found the splendour of the outer facades of a number of chateaux to be almost empty shells in terms of furniture and fittings. Fontainebleau does not have the ornate and groomed gardens of Versailles but if time and choices are a challenge then this is a recommended place to spend a few tourist hours. The audio assistance is vital for it explains many features that you see as you stroll from room to room. One does not access the entire chateau which is probably a good thing. Too much of a good thing can sometimes spoil the sampling. This chateau is also very accessible and so close to Paris too. If looking for a chamber nearby I would suggest the Aigle Noir Hotel for its proximity and ease of parking. Something that we have come to value as we have journeyed from Saint Aignan is parking and a welcome when you check in to your accommodation. A number of hotels just do it well! Others, what can I say? Aigle Noir is the first hotel to offer the Australian standard of in-room, tea and coffee making facilities. A small consideration for the weary traveller and received with gratitude. From our hotel room I can see the two storey carousel; surely a memento from a bygone era. There is a market held in the town's square each Tuesday. Clothes, fresh food, local produce, shoes, bags, umbrellas, flowers and just about anything that you can think is sold at some stall or another. Fascinating hour walking up each aisle. Loved the fur coats! Didn't buy one.

Macon

Lunch on the terrace on our last day in Menerbes. We left the Menerbes apartment at 9:30 on Saturday morning and travelled the tollways along with many other motorists. This is the first weekend of the school holiday season here in France. At the beginning of our day traffic moved smoothly but all good things must come to and end. At the toll booths, probably the biggest that we have ever seen (26 gates) we were attempting to pay at the sixteenth. Several of the gates appeared to be not moving what-so-ever. There was no apparent reason for the traffic to stop but indeed it did. Long lines of cars, trucks, caravans and bikes attempted to merge into other booths that suggested that they were functioning. Wrong-just a tease. Imagine peak hour Paris traffic all converging and merging into a few lanes. We queued for some time before we finally fed our 17 Euros 30 into the automatic slots. Having paid it was amazing. Traffic disappeared and everyone was once again motoring along. Rest break required so we exited to discover one of the biggest rest stations that we had ever seen (today was a day of firsts.) The parking area for those pulling in to take a break from their journey, was larger than all of the outside parking at Greenhills, shopping centre. Inside we found a restaurant, a crepe station, a cafe and tray affair equal to that in an Australian food hall in a mall and lastly a cafe selling wraps or paninis. Of course the obligatory coffee vending machines sat stationed by the doors. Wow! Service was efficient with people coming and going in brisk succession. On the road again. Macon punched into Navman and last stint on the tollway and only 4 Euros 60 this time. Lucky pick. Found our hotel in a beautiful setting overlooking a park. It's old but so am I so it was a good choice. The receptionist was welcoming and car parking secured. On foot we explored Macon to the bridge over the Saone and thence every little rue in the shopping precinct. The old district boasted many rues of fascinating shops. At the bridge spanning the river one can see the flood peaks dating back for centuries. From memory, and remember it's old, 1710 was a big year in terms of flood peaks. For those on the road looking for a place to sleep for the night in Macon I urge you to try the Hotel Bourgogne. If the journey has been long one may dine in and that may also be a pleasant experience. Parking in-house is always a bonus! Architecture here reveals a variety of darker stone colours not previously seen in other towns that we have visited thus far.


Menerbes

Bonnieux

Bonnieux/, is there a synonym better than old for all the hilltop towns and villages that we have been visiting? Stephen and I seem to be able to wonder the small passageways and narrow streets without tiring. Architecture continues to fascinate us despite having seen so many examples of early buildings and houses. Age is no barrier to design nor to functionality of dwellings built by medieval builders and in some instances the Romans. Often restorations have kept the faith and integrity of original structure but it is also reasonable to presume that sometimes preservation rather than conservation has its place. Towers, steps and walls stretch ever upwards on the most precarious footings. How did they do it? Not many buildings created today could expect to remain standing for centuries. Our current apartment has solid, block walls about 50 centimetres in depth along with beams of timber (now limed,) to support the upper level that houses the bedroom and bathroom. The bedroom has a wrought iron railing to allow one to view the floor below. Yesterday Stephen walked the path around the village to find that the apartment also has a cellar. However, there is no internal access from our apartment so we presume that the adjoining dwelling must have some internal door or stairwell to the cellar where an assortment of odds and ends are stored. The steps to the cellar in the apartment in Saint Aignan were steep, rickety and had no handrail so I have no intention of risking life or limb to locate our cellar's entry point. The iron bars set in the window bays are designed to keep out uninvited guests. From town to town these are a common fixture. The jagged iron rusts and the stem-like bars with sharp tendrils would detour even the most daring thief or intruder. Security is paramount. So many buildings and houses are shuttered up and regularly padlocked and bolted too. Who owns all of these shuttered abodes? Do they hear our Australian accents and flee inside? Back to Bonnieux; would I suggest a visit? Yes, definitely worth a notation in the tourist travel log. Go right to the top to the old church as the vista is spectacular. Don't count the steps just keep walking. If you are a patron of the arts Bonnieux is probably already on your list of gallery visitations.

Oppede - France

Oppede, only minutes from Menerbes, was an unexpected discovery today. There is an old and a new town/village of Oppede. The old town, complete with ruins dates back to at least 1100. From the newly created car park it is a long, steep walk up to the central village. In truth the tourist must expect hilltop towns to have long, steep, walks or alternatively accessed via narrow, windy roads. Garden terraces make the climb more manageable than the steps so take the long route as it is further than you expect to the top. Along the terraces there are many species of flora that have been identified for the tourist. At various points of interest brief signage explains the history or the perspective of the site. Once again as we've visited many villages it was evident that there were not many inhabitants out and about and it was almost 11:00am. Restoration work is evident and it seems that the old town is endeavouring to maintain its history. Some time in the mid 1900's a significant number of the town's people moved from the hilltop to the plain to build a new village. Both old and new are pleasant places to visit. Accommodation and restaurants are operational in the older precincts. Views from the old town reveal beautiful countryside of a rural nature. Tall conifers dot the walk to the hilltop and Australian visitors would easily recognise many of them. The boucherie, in the new village has the freshest meat. The butcher doesn't speak English but he was most helpful and we manged to make our purchases before coffee at the local cafe in the new township. Sculptures in the new village attest to the skill of the local artisans and artists. Few happy snaps possible here.

Lacoste - Market Day

As it was a day of the National Strike in France we had wanted to stay off major roads. Lacoste was our destination so that we could wander through the markets that were there each Tuesday. If you have ever been to a market day major roads and as Lacoste was only minutes away we decided to start our day there and in France you might expect to find parking some distance from the marketplace and walk to the stalls. As we thought we were experienced with the markets at Ambois we played it safe and parked at the first parking lot that was empty. Armed with backpack and coats we made our way ever upwards to the village square. Initially we thought that we had either the wrong day or the wrong location as the Lacoste markets consisted of a man selling fromage, a clock restorer and a fresh produce van. So where was the market? Since arriving in France we have noted that many places advertise their hours of operation and more often than not they will be closed at any time of the day regardless of what has been posted. Couldn't help but wonder if this was the case with the Lacoste markets. There are three cafes though they didn't appear to be open despite being set up for service. In the area behind the village church we saw a most unusual sculpture that was made from wire mesh. It had been covered in thousands of snail shells. The sculpture was designed so as to catch the wind and turn as might a windvane. Given its fragile nature it was surprising to find it outside and at the mercy of the elements. Marquis de Sade's castle was in Lacoste but sadly, it lays in ruins. Lacoste over and done; where next? Perhaps Rousillon.

Rousillon-Provence

Another day, another outing. To Rousillon. Rousillon is known for its ochre. Rich rusty-brown ochres are evident in both the soil and the buildings of the village itself. Rousillon is a thriving medieval township with many opportunities for the tourist to sample local produce (the wines,) or to sit at one of the many restaurants and simply soak in the atmosphere. Parking is very good so it is one of the better locations that we have visited. The paid parking system ensures quality access to the sites allowing the tourist to enjoy the offerings without the stress of locating a parking spot. Souvenir shoops are plentiful but not in a negative way. Tasteful galleries abound in Rousillon. I noticed a water point dated 1353 so I am not sure about the age of the village other than that signage. Like all towns of its type it has long windy passageways, many steps and narrow roads but is well worth taking time to step inside the town's centre.

Fontaine de Vaucluse

Today Stephen took me to one of the prettiest villages in the south of France. Fontaine de Vaucluse is an ancient village where deep springs feed the Sorgue River. As the water moves down stream it flows swiftly and creates many pools and cascades of crystal, clear water. At the edge of the river there are a number of water wheels. One wheel in the centre of the village still operates a paper mill. Each spoke of the wheel is covered in deep, green, moss that swishes and flows with the water as the wheel turns. Paper is being mulched by the stampers attached to the wheel. Inside the building visitors can still see the paper making process that appears to be as old as the building in which it is housed. Many restaurants dot the village and the only problem is which to choose for lunch. Above the town, steep, pock marked white, cliffs, with cave-like holes rise above you. It is almost as if some ancient person had carved themself dwelling into the very edge of the stone. After walking the track, of the whitest shale to the foot of the cliffs, we couldn't help but stare upwards while trying to understand the history of those caves. Then, we slowly made our way back into town. The roundabout at centre of the village boasted enormous, green, leafy, trees that more than adequately shaded the plethora of tourists. At the same roundabout we entered a chic restaurant where we were seated upstairs and hence, had views of the village centre. Once more I sought the cunard salade and citron tart for dessert.

Menerbes

The village is about the same size as the one that we frequented in Petroio when we stayed in Italy. However, there is a significant difference in the number of restaurants here in Menerbes. Yesterday while we were waiting to check in we dined at the Bouchan restaurant where the views to the valley below were reminders of home. Grapevines, row upon row of them stretched out along the plains as did the occasional olive tree. The Hunter Valley shares many of the local features so it is not surprising that we are enjoying the countryside. From the apartment I can sit on the lounge and gaze at the other views on the side of the village. A bell tolled to tell me that it was time to prepare lunch. Book away for now. A quick search of the refrigerator revealed the purchases made at the InterMarche. I'm preparing so it's my choice-pate, grapes, avocado, cherry tomatoes, a selection of cheeses and a meatloaf log-like slice, probably a terrine. Leftover wine from last night's dinner (a gift from our host.) Tre bon! Walk to the village beckons. Well worth the trek. Discovered some new / old architecture that we hadn't seen on previous walks. Doors, windows and lights seem to be so interesting. Who'd have thought that they could be so inspiring for the amateur photographer?

Menerbes

We are off to an ancient, medieval village perched on a hilltop. Some may call it a cliff top. You decide. First, we have to check out of Sete. After a typical continental breakfast (so big that you don't need lunch) we made our way to the car park beneath the hotel. What excitement! Lots of people speaking in French but clearly wanting to know if we owned the car that had just been grazed by another car. Everybody was standing around deliberating as to how one should extract the now stuck car from the other without further damage. One particularly large gentleman, dressed in a suit (remember it's Samedi morning,) recommended that all of the men should assist by lifting the driverless, parked, car and so allow the driver at fault to extricate his car safely. To add to the dilemma! A linen delivery truck entered the narrow street and blocked our exit. Much gesturing. Stephen and two other gents attempted to lift and turn the unattended car. Each able bodied man gave it his all but sadly the cars were deeply entangled. The linen truck reversed, a bystander directed Stephen's passage and we were gladly on our way to Menerbes. Not sure about the outcome of the entrapped cars but it is fair to say that no parking space in France accommodates many cars larger than a Smart car. There but be a proverbial manner in which to express this situation. However, I digress. On the road again via several peage stations. At the last peage booth I had the correct coinage. First time since arriving in France. Cheaper today. The dearest peage we've paid so far was over 20 Euros. More about Menerbes. Where you ask is Menerbes? Menerbes is in Provence which is in the southern end of France. NavMan guided us to the Menerbes' public car park provided us with a refuge until we navigated the narrow (breathe in narrow; AKA wind in the car's mirrors) roads to the apartment. Another vital diversion was the local restaurant since check in was not until 4:00. Mmmm, great views overlooking one whole side of the valley and fine duck salade too. Apartment arrival was uneventful since we had walked and noted the hazards prior to turning on the car's engine. A wise strategy for those new to France. Always consider parking and orienting oneself before taking a car where no cars should go, not ever! The apartment is has its own car space (luckily.) Within the apartment there is a first and mezzanine level. Kitchen, lounge and laundry in an open plan style downstairs is exceptional in its inclusions. The upper level has the sleeping and bathroom area. Just beautiful. A balcony and a courtyard are attached. Below the courtyard and balcony and to the hills across the valley we see why so many are fascinated by Provence. Vivaldi is playing on the music system and we've even taken a telephone call from a telemarketer who refused to accept that we didn't speak French, non comprehend and that we weren't the owner/resident. Funny thing about telemarketers is that they have the same persistence the world over. Wind is blowing with such gusto that it almost howls up the steep face of the mountainside where we are perched and the draft creeps in through the ancient glass and timber door but the church bell is chiming so I know that all is well. In the village you expect to hear the bells ring in each day. The bells ring regularly to gently remind residents that time, the rhythm and village life has schedule and order. I love the bells. Up the spiral staircase soon.

Sete

Arrived in Sete early today and parked overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. This was a first for me. Patisserie luncheon eaten whilst overlooking the water. Not a wave in sight, just crystal clear water. Sat for hours just watching and absorbing the view. We then made our way along the coast to locate our accommodation Hotel L'Orque Bleue. Car parking secured we were checked in by a very friendly face and immediately made to feel welcome. No luggage issues for there was a lift. Our third floor room was fine for our evening's stay. Out and about we found a park called Chateau de Vert. We sat and rested on a bench under an enormous canopy of trees. It was good to find such a calm and leafy oasis amongst the city's central commercial area. A short trip back to the canal where we decided to check out the tourist, boat cruises. Luck would have it that we found one leaving at 3:00. The cruise was informative and relaxing as we listened to the boat's audio re the sights along the coastal strip and around the port of Sete itself. From the boat's deck we saw an old fort at the edge of a cliff that now serves as an open air theatre; rather unique. A stone fort and hospital sits at one edge of the port and its ancient design tells us that it has been standing for many, many years. A bit like Fort Dennison in Sydney. The boat also took us past the ferry to Tangier and the many people lined up in the car park waiting to board. There was livestock carrier that was enormous too as was the dry dock. When you are able to cruise right by and almost reach out and touch the cold metal of its hull you appreciate its full height. Seagulls trailed us for some time hoping to be fed as they were from the many trawlers in port. Tuna and sardines are the local favourites and the fish market serves the wholesalers rather than the general public. Today the weather was cooler and we actually wore some of the winter clothes that we had packed. Sete is obviously a place to be and probably to be seen in summer. No postcards as yet. Not sure what the postal service at home would think of some of the featured images on those that we saw. Going out for dinner last night I realised that I had gone mad, possibly tourists disease or something as I had actually been looking forward to the cooler weather but as Stephen and I made our way along the canal to the restaurant we remembered the cold that we had experienced on our last trip to France. Coat, jumper and long scarf and I was still cold. Obviously a crazy Australian. I've been wondering why everyone thinks that we are Italian. We are regularly greeted and fare welled in Italian. Perhaps I look more Italian than I do Australian.

Nabonne

Nabonne is where I am right now. I had forgotten where I was and had to ask Stephen. At that point I thought that it was time for chillin' so I ran an enormous bath and I don't even feel guilty about all of the water that I used. After arriving in Nabonne we parked the car and headed to the square where we'd been advised that we'd find some good restaurants until check in. Short walk to the square and we opted for a restaurant with street views. People came and went and the street and square hummed with sounds of commercial activity. Salade again for me and some pasta for Stephen with a little bottle of red wine to share. So restful. It was peaceful sitting and watching the world walk or ride by until we heard the now familiar sounds of whistles, singing and shouting young people. Flags waving and loud haler blaring a group of protesters marched into the square up to the steps and forecourt of the Hotel de Ville. The singing was tuneful and the students particularly enthusiastic in sharing their message. We ate and watched. Police cars parked and police gathered and stood at a respectful distance from the assembled group. Lunch finished we strolled down the mall to find that a huge marche stretched along the road adjacent to the canal and even across the bridge. Canal boats motored calmly upstream so a photo op for Stephen while I checked out the marche wares. Seeing the boats reminded us of our own boating trip in France in 2008. Blogging attended to and now it is time for another outing in order to explore Nabonne before we leave tomorrow for Sete. Stephen told me that we can dip our toes into the Mediterranean! Can't wait.

Hotel Terminous Cahors

What a find? We had travelled for several hours through picturesque country; along minor, windy roads. It was worth the trip. The hotel was old to say the least. Our room had a view to the station and car park. Sun shone brilliantly through the floor to ceiling windows giving an impression of a summer's afternoon. Colours from the lead light windows in the bathroom created a pleasing ambiance. But down to the serious stuff. We'd travelled in front of the protests and hence had not washed (any clothes) for days. Sunlit room, viola time to rinse some items. Restaurant booked, then blogging and rest prior to dinner at 7:30. Fortunately we read Ken's blog and discovered that there was a possibility of a fuel shortage due to the strike action so we were most appreciative of local knowledge. Thank you, Ken. We dressed for dinner and made our way downstairs to the bar for a glass of wine. Nothing had prepared us for the fine menu that was presented to us. So many choices of the highest quality. I selected the 36 Euro option where chef had created a number of courses so well matched that all I had to do was wait and be surprised. Stephen ordered the scrambled eggs with truffles, a casselout and the souffle. Chef was disappointed with the souffle so Stephen was treated to something special courtesy of a very honourable and proud gentleman. Our wine was a red Clos des Menutes (don't quote my spelling.) Worth every Euro. I believe that I'll me in Nabonne sometime on October, 14th. On the road just after 10:00am we encountered our first protest and street blockade of the day but as it was only about a kilometre we managed to find an alternative route around the police barrier. We only took one wrong turn. I snapped this picture or the railway bridge as we sought new directions from Navman following our protest driven, detour.

Down the steps of the apartment to The Paris Pass

We had discovered on our previous trip that ticket queues could result in lengthy waits. To avoid lines we bought The Paris Pass for 6 of us. The pass allowed us access to the metro, the big red bus and over 60 museums and galleries for two days. First stop was the Big Red Bus that was stopped by the Arc de Triumph so that we could quickly orient everyone to the layout of Paris. What this means is that we all sat up top in the wind so that we would have the best views.

The Eiffel Tower was where we jumped off the bus so as to let our feet touch the ground. Sam did the typical 'getting air' poses for our cameras. Later we explored Notre Dame before heading to the Louvre. Pictures will tell the story better than I ever could. The noted differences included the vast number of tourists, the large numbers of touts who were persistent in their endeavours and the remarkable cultural points of interest that we encountered in our first 48 hours together. Traffic is best understood by those brave enough to drive in Paris. It was not uncommon to see eight rows, notlanes of cars, trucks or bikes, criss-cross each other's path with horns honking but then proceed with safety on their way. I doubt that I would ever brave the roads as a driver myself. I take my hat off to those who do.

France National Strike

On the road to Cognac today. There is a day of National strike across France. Apart from the difficulties with pre booked rail tickets we thought that we were free of other issues. However, as we drove along the freeway there was little vehicular traffic which we had considered unusual. After travelling for almost 100 kilometres we saw a blockade across the entire carriageway of the freeway but heading in the opposite direction. All traffic, trucks and cars were prevented by passing as people had erected a tent across the two lanes of the road. With no options for reversing or turning around there was a queue of many kilometres where trucks and cars just stopped and parked on the road. It was obvious that approaching motorists were as oblivious as were we to the situation. I felt sorry for young families stuck for who knows how long. Cognac is where we will be tonight as we will not tempt fate with other road blocks. What does one do when they cannot go anywhere? Thought that you'd never ask. Both Stephen and I had our hair cut. Never been to a place where we had joint haircuts before. To make the event a little more interesting the stylists didn't speak English. I asked for a short haircut and was not sure exactly what to expect. I like the end result. A change is as good as a holiday and that's what I'm on, so happy holiday to me. Tonight there was a gathering of flag waving people marching about the town. Church bells rang continuously, fireworks were discharged and some in the group blew whistles as they called and sang their protests to all who were in range. There was a police presence but we retreated hastily from the cobbled walk back into our hotel. After a quick wine it was again a pleasant place to stroll down the mall and take in the shops. I can highly recommend the Heritage Hotel in Cognac. Its decor is colourful and it is well appointed considering some of the gites that we have seen. The light fittings are themselves works of art. The restaurant's food was delicious and exceptionally cheap. Try the citron sorbet. Love the artworks and the lights of every description in every room. We chose a room with a bath and we were certainly not disappointed. Remember to see the chandelier in the dining room as it is exquisite!

Blois

Back in Blois to retrieve Stephen's passport from Kate's European holiday. The hotel, Anne de Bretagne, near the station is comfy and has all that we need for the moment. This hotel has WiFi, something that we have become accustomed to during our travels.Dinner at The Coba again tonight as we so enjoyed last night's menu. Wonder if Stephen will have Cognac again tonight? My dinner was superb. Paris was hectic today. It seemed that every family in Paris and then some were out in the sunshine with their family, friends or lovers. Kate and Chris looked weary but they seem to have enjoyed their holiday and Kirstie and Michael have left us for some time on their own. The change of plans due to the strike impacting all over France. Quick shower, fresh clothes and then we are off to discover new taste sensations at the new local ; now favourite restaurant. Salade orientale and citron vert, sorbet accompanied by banana, flambee sorbet. Tre bon! The restaurant dinner was possible as we have discovered that it was no problem to take the earlier train from Paris to Blois. Congratulations French railways for being so flexible. Australia could learn from this. Thank you to the man who pretended to speak no Anglais when I sought a refund for tickets purchased for travel on the day of the National Manifestation (AKA - strike.) Good man; by the way, I did not see him wink at Stephen. He was obviously enjoying listening to my feeble attempts at French. Manifestation sounds less offensive in French. A rose by any other name ... There is a chateau in Blois which we did not go to see with all of the disruption to our travel plans. It (the chateau) was snapped quickly as we drove by on our way out of town.

Leaving Saint Aignan

We had leftovers for dinner and packed last night ready for this morning so that we could beat the Saturday, market traffic. What we hadn't anticipated was that the first stall holders would arrive just after 4:00am. What a surprise! The fish monger's van and crew were very noisy, possibly waking everyone residing in the village. Got up and had coffee with Kirstie who was also up due to the early wake up call. By breakfast time we had to load the car before market traffic barred access to the apartment. Vans came and went. Umbrellas unfurled at an unusually leisurely pace. The market people so well rehearsed calmly set about disgorging their wares from vans or trucks. Displays mirrored a pattern probably memorised over time. Colourful stacks of breads and croissants sat on trestle tables in the square about four metres from our door. The female vendor ensuring that each product was carefully displayed to its best advantage. Next the charcuterer parked less than a metre from our door thus limiting our access and blocking light to the windows. The little blue shutters were then tightly closed to allow us to clean and scrub the apartment prior to our departure but not before Kirstie ventured out, money in hand to buy herself a croissant. So fresh and almost home delivered. Time to load that car. Next stop Prueilly.

More Chateaux and A Train Strike

Yesterday was a day of firsts we learnt how to fill the car's tank with diesel after much deliberation and a not so successful conversation at the cashier's office. Next, we set out to buy additional tickets for the train to Paris only to encounter communication issues at the booking office. The tourist centre at Saint Aignan offers a superior service in that they were able to discover that the train that we already had tickets for was not going to run due to a strike and therefore we could not buy or use the tickets already purchased in Australia. A highlight of the morning was the little bistro in Saint Aignan where we cheered ourselves with a fine lunch of salad and gizzards; Yes, good old poulet gizzards have become a popular fare with us. Satisfied that the day was not going to be a disaster we embarked on our next journey to the chateau Valencay. I thought that others that we had visited were the best but this was by far the superior of the three that we have now seen. It is obvious that the recent residency supported the display features that can be seen today; The kitchen , furnishings and decor are in superior condition as were the gardens and fountains. I must away to yet another day of discovery but I must comment on how pleasing it was to meet fellow bloggers K and W last night. We enjoyed many laughs and their fine company at the local vin cave.

Chateaux Everywhere-Which one will I see?

Biggest decision of the day and we chose well with the Chateaux Chenonceau with its remarkable gardens, maze, wax musee and of course the castle itself. This was a fine choice as the castle still retained some furnishings and tapestries from original residents. I recommend the full tour with the Ipod option as the video and spoken text greatly assist one in fully understanding each room and its features. My favourite was the kitchen area with its many utensils and ancient installations. Another highlight of the journey thus far. The 3 and 1/2 hours was sufficient to take in most of the sites. The only disappointment was that the garden restaurant was fully booked so if I knew in advance I would have made reservations.
Dinner last night was again a taste sensation with Michael cooking poulet stuffed with veal farce. I prepared the garden salad and Kirstie in collaboration with Michael the dessert of panetone purchased at the market at Amboise; fresh raspberries and the best vanilla ice cream ever made. But I ramble for I must away to the vin caves for a tour. We have reserved a table for one of the fine restaurants in Saint Aignan for this evening so today should be interesting. Another favourite food that several of us enjoyed much to our surprise was chicken gizzards. At home we would never have been tempted to taste them but taste them we did and they were so tender and full of subtle flavour.