I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: a major difference between Europeans and Americans is that to Americans, 200 years is a long time and
to Europeans, 200 miles is a long way. As a Franco-American couple, Nico and I are no exception to this stereotype. I couldn’t believe it when, after numerous extended visits, I found out that there were medieval ruins in Nico’s hometown that no one had bothered to mention! “Why would I tell you about that?” Nico asked when I voiced a mixture of frustration and disbelief that he hadn’t shown me the ruins before, “What’s so interesting about a pile of stones?” We may see eye to eye on most things, but we are simply on different wavelengths when it comes to old stuff. However, I must give credit where credit is due and Nico is a good sport about humoring me with daytrips to nearby tourist destinations, provided we can maybe taste some local wine along the way. Twist my arm! Castles and wine? I’m telling you, life in France can be really challenging sometimes. A few weeks ago, we took advantage of the gorgeous weather and the fact that Nico wasn’t working and drove up to the Loire Valley for a little local tourism. Castles, ramparts, and moats abound on the drive from Poitiers up to Chinon, a well-known fortress and medieval city. I was in 7th heaven!
Even Nico agrees that the streets of the medieval city of Chinon couldn’t be more charming. With its half-timbered houses sitting next to stately homes with stone sculptured details on the windows and turrets, Chinon looks like it could be the village from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. The fact that it was a Monday in March only added to the charm: we practically had the place to ourselves! Wandering through the narrow streets with the Spring sun shining, it was easy to be swept away by the romantic medieval feel of the place. Even better, I was thrilled to learn that one of my favorite French writers was born near Chinon in the late 15th century: François Rabelais, whose biting satire, bawdiness, and scatological humor continue to make me giggle 500 years later. In my opinion, the fact that the adjective “Rabelaisian” has made its way into the English language says it all. That being said, I strongly suspect that Chinon in Rabelais’ day probably smelled more like these inquisitive cows we met on a nearby road than the blissfully antiseptic and odor-free tourist haven we so enjoyed exploring.
After a delicious and leisurely lunch in Chinon on a café patio, Nico suggested heading down the road to Azay-le-Rideau, another charming Loire Valley village with a château that looks like it fell right out of a fairytale (minus the renovation work). Although it was beautiful, we weren’t really sure that we wanted to spend 13 euros each to visit it. As we admired the château from the other side of the tall iron gate, we noticed three little old ladies going through a smaller gate that seemed to lead to a stone church on the other side of the courtyard. On impulse, we followed them and closed the gate behind us, only to find that we had unintentionally taken the backdoor onto the castle grounds! We felt a bit guilty, but that didn’t stop us from traipsing through the gardens and castle rooms. To be fair, we often play tour guide for visitors from the States and the next time we go to Azay-le-Rideau, I’m sure that we’ll go through the main door. ;)
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