Give Granny the Cheap One...

Off to Chartres on the train. My first question to the ticket seller at the train station was, "Pardumb wah, parlay Anglais?" With big grin spreading across the ticket sellers face, he replied, "Yas a leeedle." We both smiled at each other, then he rudely asked how old I was. I couldn't decide if I wanted to be older or younger, then I realized he could ask for my passport so I fessed up. "67 sort of." "Oh you can ride to Chartres cheaper and you're old enough." Bigger grin from me. "How much to ride first class?" "15 Euros." "I'll take it." He pointed to the big board and said to watch for my train number then go to that gate. 

When the board spun and the gate number came up I climbed into the luxury of first class. The first class section is small with only a few seats. There is a glass partition between the unwashed and me, the washed. The noise from crying children was muted by the glass partition, first class is grand.

Arriving at Chartres, I walked up a long hill with charming little shops on either side of the street. The church is in the background.  

This park is behind the cathedral. It was tree trimming day. That's why the branches are laying on the ground. They trim the trees into a square shape.

To the left of the trees lies this maze.

It's about a 20 foot drop to the maze. There were steps somewhere, but I was in search of lunch and kept moving.

I walked by fascinating doorways (actually they kept the trash there and it didn't smell all that great, but omi, doesn't it look intriguing?)

So many restaurants to choose from. I walked from one to the next looking at what people had on their plate, then I looked at the person. If they were American fat, I voted against it because usually their plate reflected their waistline filled with fries and burgers. One little fat kid had his face plunged into a huge dish of ice cream. Tsk, tsk...

I finally settled for the restaurant in the shadow of the cathedral.

To keep this short I didn't include any  pictures of tortured saints. Believe me, there were many. There was a souvenir shop that sold alter boys uniforms (is that a grimace on his face?). A relief from t-shirt shops, but ~ let's get back to lunch.

Salmon with tarragon butter to smear on each bite. The plate toward the back of the table was scalloped potatoes made with a custard sauce instead of milk. I saw that on a slim European's plate and knew it would make me slim if I ate it. Makes me swoon to remember the flavor.

After lunch, a stroll through the village.

It wouldn't be a French town without the merry-go-round.

See the little boy squatting in the wet part of the picture? 

He waited and waited for the water to pop on. Little kids are the same everywhere. They shrieked with joy when the water sprayed them.

I walked back toward the train station and decided to stop for a beer. The waitress didn't speak English. Finally she turned to four young guys at the next table and asked them what I wanted. They had a short conference, laughed and said, "Get granny a cheap beer." They punched each other and had a fine time with that. The waitress laughed too. I tried to smile in gratitude for their help while not letting on I knew what they said. "Get granny a cheap beer?" It sounds nicer in French. 

I knocked back the first one and asked for another by pointing to my empty glass. Gothic or not, cheap or not, this granny likes her beer! 

Then a stroll back to the train station. Coming soon...A bus ride to Brugges, Belgium.

To Avon, Then Fountainblue, Then Ftttttttttttttttttt

Taking the train to Avon, then a bus from the station, then a lovely walk peeking into private gardens as the electric gate closes. 

I asked for directions and my fake French took me in the back way to the Grand Fountainbleu. I knew I was on the right track by the horse drops. To the left is a small lake/pond and the usual trapping of the wealthy. 

Arriving at the back door, I found my way to the cashier,

Paying my entrance fee took me through a very narrow hall with what as first I thought was a fire place.  I'm not sure and with no audiophone to listen to, it is a mystery. 

A lovely hall with windows on the left.

Upstairs is where the queen slept (or whomever was the lady du jour). A beautiful room with several windows and soft colors. The bed was big enough for a child with two steps on the side for the queen to climb into bed. 

Another long hall with parquet floors that were in near perfect condition. To the right are floor to ceiling windows and to the left

The glass in the doors have blue skies and clouds painted on them. You can see the reflection of the outside windows.

The first time I saw one of these signs, I thought it was showing the guy running to the toy lette.  Poor guy ran this way and that way sometimes showing a flight of stairs. I knew the feeling...

Finally I found the front door of Fountainbleu. It would be better to see this grand palace on a PBS. My pictures could not do it justice. I wish they had put price tags on the cost to build this place to say nothing of th fine workmanship down to the door knobs. (there will be a special blog on door knobs)

From the palace I walked downtown and found the merry-go-round. This was a two story go-round with music and excited children. 

The train ride from Avon back to Paris...   My fanny started talking and I thought I could do a one cheek sneek. CAUGHT! A little girl said to her mother in French that I farted. OMG, my hearing loss is terrible, I thought it was a sneek. Her mother told her to try not to notice. I tried not to be embarrassed. Does the rest of the world live from toot to toot? To end the day with a fine meal. I ordered lamb with legumes forgetting it meant beans... I have no idea what kind of joke it was, but I skipped the back pile of beans, thankyouverymuch.  

The aged traveler at the end of the day.

Dazzling Delights to Dismal Sameness

After a half hour bus ride to the American Library, a stop at a little tiny (4 tables) bakery/deli for a bite. Using croissant dough for the top, then ham and a combination of warm cheese and mustard with a crispy bottom crust. It's the first time I ever ignored the ham and scraped out the cheesey mustard. 

Wandering through the neighborhood, I looked over and saw this beautiful building.

The front door was especially lovely. I wish I'd had a tripod to steady the camera.

The intricate art worked in the door with animals was breath taking.

I thought the Eiffel Tower was close by, then I turned away from the beautiful door and there is was.

A few block walk to the river Seine and there were boats for riding around town. 14E (euros) $22.50 to ride, getting on and off at will.

Seriously? Yes, a Mississippi paddle boat on the French river Seine. It seemed so out of place...

The one thing they don't mention when getting on the boat... there are no 'facilities.' Additional liquids like Coke are for sale though. Just step right up and insert your euros. I rode the boat up the river (or down maybe?) until I finally had to find some facilities. I asked the person who blared out each stop in three languages, "Toilette?" She gestured vaguely but could speak no Anglaise. I hopped off the bateau (boat) and followed a group of children on a field trip. Surely they would know. Fields of poppies, herb gardens, vegetable gardens, an iris garden, a zoo, a natural history museum, and on I trudged asking Toilette, Toy let? Non, non in the park. 'Merci,' I said. MERCY, I thought! Finally, 

I saw a McDonalds. Surely nestled behind their processed food... Yes. a toilette. The dismal sameness struck me as I entered the door of the 'toilette.' How can a multi-billion dollar business have bathrooms around the world dismal, dirty and the French version? Seat covers but No seat. I want to leave you with an upbeat thought, the poppies were beautiful.

Fire and Fine Dining...

On my way to the store the other evening I came around the corner and much to my surprise there was a fire in one of the oldest buildings in Paris.

They quickly tied off the area by stringing the tape from a parked car to a chair to keep people back.

The fire trucks were small, unlike their American counterpart. Of course they would have to be because the streets are so narrow. 

Those shiny balls in the windows are firemen. They wear what appear to be metal hats.

But, best of all... See the plastic boxes sitting on the ground? It's lunch! In the boxes were loaves of French bread and fixins' to make sandwiches.

See the fellow eating? There were more standing around eating and watching the fire. I was too shy to take their pictures, but I have to tell you their food looked delish! No donuts for these guys.

People sat in the park watching the fire while enjoying a sandwich. It was fascinating to see how efficient the firemen were. There were no sirens, no police, no one yelling. It was quietly taken care of.
The next day the businesses reopened. Big dumpsters were lined up across the street and clean-up had begun.