The tourist bit

So what are we doing with our days? Most days we do one tourist activity. So far we've visited the cathedral at Meaux, the gardens of Fontainebleu, the manor of Clos Luce where da Vinci spent his last years, and five nearby Loire chateaux, inside and out: Chenonceaux, Blois, Amboise, Chambord, and Loches. We've experienced one Son et Lumiere at Blois, which is my favourite of the chateaux.

Blois is really three chateaux in one, plus the Hall of the Etats-General, which is the oldest building, and the only remaining part of an earlier fortress. Despite its grand title, this medieval building is a standard French oblong with high roof, its vaulted timber roof held up by a line of central pillars, all brightly painted in red and blue. At the end of the fifteenth century, Louis XII built an L-shaped wing starting at this old hall and finishing in a chapel. Francois I (the French king who met Henry VIII at the Field of the Cloth of Gold), added a Renaissance wing extending from the Hall to form a third side of the square. So far, so good, three contrasting but reasonably complementary buildings.

A century later we have Gaston d'Orleans, a seventeenth century vandal and visionary. He was king Louis XIII's brother. Royal brothers can be at worst a serious threat, at best a royal pain in the posterior, and Gaston was apparently a plotter. Louis gave him Blois to keep him otherwise occupied, and Gaston hired Mansart, architect of Versailles, to build him something similar. His plans involved tearing down all the existing buildings, but fortunately for posterity, he did it progressively, ripping off the end of Francois' wing and demolishing the nave of Louis' chapel to make room for the first U-shaped part of his grand building in classical style. After this had been built it appears that the king thought he was no longer a threat and cut off his funding, so that was as far as he got. It is a splendid building, but its juxtaposition against the cut off end of the Francois wing looks like something from a Peter Corrigan set.

The completed square makes for a son et lumiere which we found fascinating, despite the fact that all the son was in French, much of it beyond our powers of translation. You stand in the middle of the courtyard, and the lumiere is projected from all sides using each building first successively and then later in pairs and in total as a backdrop to the various stories. And there are plenty, a good collection of kings and queens, including the very powerful Catherine de' Medicis who was wife to one king, mother to three more, and mother-in law to a fifth. There is also a famous assassination, which was quite chillingly portrayed. Despite being a Saturday there were only a handful of people as it was cold. We wore our thermal undies and enjoyed being able to see everything without having to peer over lots of other heads.

Generally none of the tourist sites we've visited have been crowded, and most of the tourists are French, with some Americans, English, and the occasional fellow-Australians. The French clearly use the often extensive grounds of the chateaux as public parks, walking and cycling through them, having picnics. We have also observed that at nearly every chateau we have seen a school group, some primary, some secondary, learning their country's history in the places where main events took place. We wished we had been taught history in this manner when we were at school.

Fun with Tim and Jane

Alternative title: Beating the TomTom

Because we bought our HTC Touch Diamonds on eBay (see earlier April post), we have two different satnav systems. Peter has Garmin, I have TomTom. After using them for a while, we have decided that TomTom wins on points, although each has its merits. In particular, Garmin seems superior when one wants to be a pedestrian. We navigate with TomTom mostly, but occasionally have both on. One has a choice of voice, and initially we both selected "Jane", a gentle English female voice, and managed on couple of occasions to contrive the situation where we had both machines operating and the same voice was alternately saying "Turn right", "Turn left". I switched my TomTom over to "Tim" (English male), so that if we have both on, we can tell which one is talking to us.

On arrival, Tim/Jane says "You have reached your destination". Often this is just the centre of town, and our actual destination is the first nice-looking restaurant. Once parked, Tim/Jane tries to guide us back to town centre. Once when entering a restaurant through a not very attractive bar, causing us to look questioningly at one another, a loud voice from my handbag suddenly said "Turn around when possible". After that embarrassment we took care to turn off the satnav as we got out of the car.

Old fashioned technology in the form of paper maps is still the best for journey planning - it is easier to see a large area in one go (similar to using paper charts for planning on the boat). And it provides a backup if the technology fails, so we purchased the very reasonably priced Michelin atlas covering all France. On the subject of driving, our little Renault Modus diesel is a great success - easy to drive and very economical. We are getting about 1000km from its 50l tank. I drove the first 350 km from Paris to our gite. Peter has done most of the driving since while I navigate, but I drive from time to time to keep my hand in. We're doing pretty well, but there have been been two occasions when I've had to shout stop because Peter hadn't remembered to look left and a car was bearing down upon us, once at a speed that would have been lethal had he kept going.

Food, glorious food

It's all about the food (and wine). We are surrounded by people growing it or making it, cooking, eating, serving it. I doubt that France has a slow food movement, there isn't any other kind (well, they do have Macdonalds). Shops shut at midday, even food shops, and everyone goes to lunch until 1400. Even in the cafe in the LeClerc supermarket complex, food is served with style and care. Hot food is hot, salads are fresh, and you get beautiful fresh bread with every course of every meal. To date our favourite cheap eat is a crepe salee: a slightly thicker crepe made from rye flour and with various savoury fillings. All the ones we've tried have been delicious. So far we've had three meals in local restaurants, at progressively increasing prices. Even though these are small, family run restaurants in tiny villages, they have superb food, served beautifully: elegant glassware and china with plates varying to match the food, proper table linen. Service is friendly and attentive. But no one "explains" the food - you are expected to know what you are eating. At our nearest restaurant, Auberge de la Brenne, we watched with awe as a huge trolley with about 20 different cheeses was wheeled to a neighbouring table, where the lone diner selected the cheeses by name. He then ate them while working his way through a book of sudoku puzzles - fine dining for the French is not a special occasion, just a way of life. The meals start with an aperitif and bouche amusee (tiny nibbles), the entree, main, cheese (optional), dessert, coffee and petits fours. Since we have to drive back to the gite, we are grateful for the very civilised French habit of offering most wine in demi-bouteille - about the right amount for us. Even the half bottles have proper corks, stelvin seals seem to have been rejected by the French.

To preserve funds and our waistlines, and because the weather has been more suitable, we have had pique-nique lunches (fresh baguette, ham and/or terrine, fromage) and cooked at the gite in the evenings for the last few days. Even with the limitations of 2 burners, no oven, minimal bench space, I am inspired by being in France to prepare meals with care and serve in style.

What's with the woods?

We puzzle over the small patches of woodland which occur every few kilometres. Many are only 10-20 acres. Our working hypothesis is that they serve multiple functions: assist in draining the surrounding fields, provide erosion-preventing windbreaks, provide firewood (we've seen piles of cut logs in clearings), and provide habitat for wild animals, including deer. We were skeptical when we saw our first roadside sign with a leaping deer, until a young deer did just that right in front of the car (going for deer life as Peter said). Fortunately he was driving and his reactions are good, so we stopped in time. After that we were more cautious, especially at night. So far Peter's vigilance has spared half a dozen deer and three hedgehogs. Despite the abundance of wild life, we've seen no roadkill. Peter suggests that the locals pick it up immediately and eat it.

Rural France in Spring

France in spring is astonishingly, vibrantly, dazzling green. The bright green of wheat alternates with darker green of barley, the pale green of rapeseed, the varied greens of the patches of woodland which break up the cultivated fields. The only break from green is where ploughed fields have been sown with potatoes or corn seedlings. Everything is so lush, unsurprising as it rains most days. So far it has been Camelot rain - only after sundown or when we are driving or undercover somewhere - and the rainjackets have only come out once, and not for long. We have had 3 warm to hot days, 3 cool to cold days, and today was the first day of another warm spell: temperature rising to 28 degrees later this week. It is so fertile that you can almost see the grain crops growing. In the week since our arrival wheat fields have taken on a golden tinge, and the rapeseed fields have more and more yellow flecks each day. It is such a contrast to dry old Australia. We are enjoying being somewhere where we can have guilt-free long showers. Somehow the French have managed to add more housing in this part of the country without detracting from the countryside. They achieve this by having small clusters of new houses, whose size and shape copies the traditional farmhouses in the area, built on the edge of a village or at a spot on a backroad where there is already one house. You have to look hard to see whether they are new or old. No big estates, no Macmansions, very little of the highly productive farmland put under asphalt. Villages are grey, with patches of blue and yellow irises. They are small, and don't seem to have a high street with shops. Our nearest village has only a boulanger and a single restaurant. The grey rendering is the same in the bigger towns and cities, but there are more shops, parks, flower gardens providing colour.

Two men went to Meaux

One man and one woman, actually. We collect our Renault Modus and I drive it round the carpark getting used to LH drive, manual gears and driving on the right. Once I stop flapping at the door handle every time I want to change gear, we drive out and down to the nearest fuel stop. Peter can't get the GPS on his Touch Diamond to find any satellites, so we revert to old technology and buy ourselves a map, which gets us to Meaux. Driving down the main roads turns out to be a breeze compared to navigating the narrow cobbled streets of Meaux. Peter is constantly getting me to move over so I don't sideswipe the wing mirrors of parked cars, and I'm constantly moving right again to avoid oncoming traffic. We decide the best option is to park and walk. Cobbled streets now a delight, as is meeting a group of girls on horseback coming down the street. Meaux feels very French as we pass fromager, charcuterie and shops of elegant clothes. Having had 5 meals in a "day" that has gone on for about 20 hours, we aren't hungry. We are in search of a hotel we glimpsed on the way in, but couldn't find again when driving around. Finally we go into a restaurant, get directions, navigate back to the car and drive to the hotel, book in, have long long long showers and collapse. We wake early and go out to buy croissants and pastries for breakfast so that we can feel properly French. We organise French SIM cards for our phones, view the cathedral and eat a beautiful lunch before heading off Loire-wards via Fontainebleu. Peter's Garmin satnav system found satellites overnight, but we still manage to take a number of wrong turns en route. We finally get up courage to tackle an autoroute, and find it surprisingly easy. Rather than roar along at the speed limit of 130kph, we tuck in behind the 90kph limited trucks, and let the rest go by, occasionally overtaking to get a different truck's backside to look at. We muddle through the toll system, as I thought we put a credit card in at the entry tolling point, rather than taking a ticket out. When we finally get to use a credit card at the Sortie it isn't accepted and we have to pay cash. We arrive at our gite Le Plessis in time to meet Veronica, who is charming and helpfully directs us to a nearby restaurant for dinner.

Flights from hell and heaven

Board QF29 and find ourselves at the front of Economy (+) with the babies (-) who are cute and quiet (+) but then there is the bloke watching the comedy channel with the seriously irritating laugh to compensate (-). No room in lockers so one bag jammed under feet (-) but other bag taken away and jackets hung up (+). Food edible but unmemorable. Seats SO uncomfortable we can't sleep even with masks, earplugs and a sleeping pill apiece. At times in pain from stiff neck. Ordeal ends when we land in Hong Kong, where we enjoy a business class lounge and the opportunity to stretch legs.

When the Finnair flight is called we queue with the hoi polloi for a while before realising that there is a separate queue for business class. Greeted by hostess who looks like a cross between Grace Kelly and Ingrid Bergman. Settle into business class cabin with 25 seats only 2/3 full. As we accept our glass of orange juice and hot towel and our coats hung and bags are stowed for us, we are reminded of the good old days when we were each important enough to fly business class in Australia at someone else's expense. Play with the seats, which recline to almost flat and have multiple adjustments in between. Enjoy food - anything cold is excellent, hot food less so, but still good. Finnair has multiple awards for its wine list, so we accept the French champagne pressed on us and served in large glasses, even a second round. No trouble sleeping after that. When we wake we enjoy "Notes on a Scandal" on the entertainment system and it seems like no time before we are at the end of our 10 hour flight and landing in Helsinki.

Helsinki to Paris goes similarly quickly. No layback seats, but only one other person in business class, so we can both have window seats and enjoy the view of Denmark, Holland, before we get to cloud-obscured France. Charles de Gaulle looks very scruffy after Helsinki, but the bags arrive very promptly, and we are out of there on a shuttle to pick up the car in no time.