Leaving Paris is apparently just as complicated as arriving.
We threw the key on the counter and pulled the door closed behind us. Our stay in a delightful studio apartment in Paris was over. Thanks Airbnb and our hosts Elise & Laura, for helping us feel right at home this week!
For the last time, we rode the Metro and the train (RER) to Charles de Gaulle Airport and picked up the rental car... A sweet little Peugeot that had somehow made it's way into the "big car" category. It was in fact, only just big enough to squeeze a suitcase into the trunk, the backpack onto the back seat and Mark and I, upfront. Luckily we had opted for the built-in GPS, because cell signal was abysmal and getting data to load on the phones was a nightmare. Truth be told, we would never have found our way out of the airport, let alone to Versaille, without the nav. system.
The Palace of Versaille. In a word; Overstated.
The ginormous building, surrounded by impressive courtyard and more impressive gardens, was more than any family would need, let alone one that was listening to the French people starve and watching their country go into bankruptcy. Gold gilded and ornate, it boasts apartments for the king, his queen and a couple of their 10 grown kids. (They had 10 kids, but only the oldest was found a match and married off. Apparently when you are raised Catholic and most of your ultra-wealthy peers are Protestant, there comes a problem in the spouse department. Since your life expectancy was around 30 years, you also don't have long to get it together and breed either.)
Don't get me wrong, there was much to like about the Palace of Versaille and my goodness, I learned a lot from the audio tour. But, I wasn't super comfortable amidst the thousands of people bumping and bustling to get a glimpse of the bed King Louis might have slept in and all that gold leaf, marble and priceless art, is not where I'm at home either.
We headed back to the car and began a 250km drive to the Loire Valley. Ever heard of it?
The Loire Valley is of Paris and winds its way along the Loire River toward the west - the Atlantic side of France.
For as long as I can remember, I have been held captive by Hans Christian Anderson style fairy tales and that castle at Disneyland that was designed for Sleeping Beauty. The Loire Valley is where the inspiration for these castles comes from. Luckily for me, I had stumbled upon a "10 best fairy tale castles" website some time ago which had planted the seed in my brain about visiting. My time was here and with Mark in mind, I selected my top 2 fav's and added them to the list of things to do in France this year. Today, we ticked off the first one;
Chenonceau Chateaux
Unless you enter the lush grounds and walk through the garden to get to the castle itself, you are unlikely to see the splendor that awaits. Chenonceau spans the river with a handful of graceful arches and 3 stories of sunlit rooms above. I felt right at home here. The overall size is much smaller than most, the rooms are intimate, flowing, cozy and peaceful. Each has a view of the river, or gardens or the woods that you walked through to get there. Hardly any gold in sight, but instead the tiled floor beneath your feet is worn smooth, the pattern and color gone after years of stomping around and dragging 10 layers of lace and dress and bustle behind you.
The kitchens are located on the lowest level and are pretty awesome. I could almost smell the bread straight from the wood fired oven, the pig roasting on the substantial spit turning in front of an 8 foot open fireplace. Shiny copper pans hung on the walls and pigeons coo'ed gently outside the windows. Magical. I was transported into my own fairy tale and didn't want to leave.
All good things must come to an end though and it was time to find a hotel and food... When was the last time we ate properly???
Sounds simple enough but really, this is what happened:
1. I used Booking.com to find a hotel about 12km from the castle - that apparently is not open after 6:30 pm or doesn't exist. It was 7:30 PM.
2. Google maps took us to the area, told us to turn right (into a field, since no road was there!) failed to turn up a hotel at all and left us in some poor Frenchmans driveway.
3. We finally found a hotel after following a sign in a field... But it was COMPLETE. The hotel owner assured us that just 5 minutes down the road, in Montrichard, there were plenty of other hotels.
4. In Montrichard we struggled to find an open hotel and it was now 8:30 PM.
5. Found the only hotel in town that was open, but were told their restaurant was closing for the night Not to worry, they said... There are tons of places to eat in the Centre Ville.
6. Centre Ville was almost dead! Most places were closed and we thought for while that supper might come from a local gas station.
7. Found an awesome Italian place, settled in for Osso Bucco, Tiramisu and wine. ONE waitress was doing everything. Bussing, serving, seating and ringing up the bills!!! She was awesome!
We threw the key on the counter and pulled the door closed behind us. Our stay in a delightful studio apartment in Paris was over. Thanks Airbnb and our hosts Elise & Laura, for helping us feel right at home this week!
For the last time, we rode the Metro and the train (RER) to Charles de Gaulle Airport and picked up the rental car... A sweet little Peugeot that had somehow made it's way into the "big car" category. It was in fact, only just big enough to squeeze a suitcase into the trunk, the backpack onto the back seat and Mark and I, upfront. Luckily we had opted for the built-in GPS, because cell signal was abysmal and getting data to load on the phones was a nightmare. Truth be told, we would never have found our way out of the airport, let alone to Versaille, without the nav. system.
The Palace of Versaille. In a word; Overstated.
The ginormous building, surrounded by impressive courtyard and more impressive gardens, was more than any family would need, let alone one that was listening to the French people starve and watching their country go into bankruptcy. Gold gilded and ornate, it boasts apartments for the king, his queen and a couple of their 10 grown kids. (They had 10 kids, but only the oldest was found a match and married off. Apparently when you are raised Catholic and most of your ultra-wealthy peers are Protestant, there comes a problem in the spouse department. Since your life expectancy was around 30 years, you also don't have long to get it together and breed either.)
Don't get me wrong, there was much to like about the Palace of Versaille and my goodness, I learned a lot from the audio tour. But, I wasn't super comfortable amidst the thousands of people bumping and bustling to get a glimpse of the bed King Louis might have slept in and all that gold leaf, marble and priceless art, is not where I'm at home either.
We headed back to the car and began a 250km drive to the Loire Valley. Ever heard of it?
The Loire Valley is of Paris and winds its way along the Loire River toward the west - the Atlantic side of France.
For as long as I can remember, I have been held captive by Hans Christian Anderson style fairy tales and that castle at Disneyland that was designed for Sleeping Beauty. The Loire Valley is where the inspiration for these castles comes from. Luckily for me, I had stumbled upon a "10 best fairy tale castles" website some time ago which had planted the seed in my brain about visiting. My time was here and with Mark in mind, I selected my top 2 fav's and added them to the list of things to do in France this year. Today, we ticked off the first one;
Chenonceau Chateaux
Unless you enter the lush grounds and walk through the garden to get to the castle itself, you are unlikely to see the splendor that awaits. Chenonceau spans the river with a handful of graceful arches and 3 stories of sunlit rooms above. I felt right at home here. The overall size is much smaller than most, the rooms are intimate, flowing, cozy and peaceful. Each has a view of the river, or gardens or the woods that you walked through to get there. Hardly any gold in sight, but instead the tiled floor beneath your feet is worn smooth, the pattern and color gone after years of stomping around and dragging 10 layers of lace and dress and bustle behind you.
The kitchens are located on the lowest level and are pretty awesome. I could almost smell the bread straight from the wood fired oven, the pig roasting on the substantial spit turning in front of an 8 foot open fireplace. Shiny copper pans hung on the walls and pigeons coo'ed gently outside the windows. Magical. I was transported into my own fairy tale and didn't want to leave.
All good things must come to an end though and it was time to find a hotel and food... When was the last time we ate properly???
Sounds simple enough but really, this is what happened:
1. I used Booking.com to find a hotel about 12km from the castle - that apparently is not open after 6:30 pm or doesn't exist. It was 7:30 PM.
2. Google maps took us to the area, told us to turn right (into a field, since no road was there!) failed to turn up a hotel at all and left us in some poor Frenchmans driveway.
3. We finally found a hotel after following a sign in a field... But it was COMPLETE. The hotel owner assured us that just 5 minutes down the road, in Montrichard, there were plenty of other hotels.
4. In Montrichard we struggled to find an open hotel and it was now 8:30 PM.
5. Found the only hotel in town that was open, but were told their restaurant was closing for the night Not to worry, they said... There are tons of places to eat in the Centre Ville.
6. Centre Ville was almost dead! Most places were closed and we thought for while that supper might come from a local gas station.
7. Found an awesome Italian place, settled in for Osso Bucco, Tiramisu and wine. ONE waitress was doing everything. Bussing, serving, seating and ringing up the bills!!! She was awesome!
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