From Beaune, to Le Parray

Monday arrived sunny and clear, with another bright greeting, in French, from Madame Rousseau (who appears to work alone caring for her guests, despite being at least 80 years old!).  Following another of her baskets of croissants and a large baguette with apricot jam, and a big pitcher of coffee, we delivered our bicycles to the rental agency a couple of blocks away.  (No, I've been a good girl and I've skipped the croissants, but oh, what temptation!)

During our visit with Pierre in his wine cellar the day before, he told us to be sure to visit Hospices de Beaune Hotel-Dieu.  According to Pierre, in the 1440s, Nicolas Rolin, Chancellor of Philippe-le-Bon, Duke of Burgundy, and Rolin's wife commissioned the building of a hospital for the poor, following the Hundred Years War.  According to Pierre, Rolin and his missus were frightened for their souls (guess they lived the big life while the residents of Beaune suffered) and hoped to redeem themselves before they died.  What resulted was this magnificent "Palace for the Poor," which stands remarkably intact since the Middle Ages, an architectural "jewel" (claims the brochure).  Surprisingly, the hospital has provided care through the centuries, finally closing in 1971.  Our visit there was informative, and interesting, and way cool, and the place offered a gazillion photo-opportunities, so I'm including several pictures:

One part of the inner courtyard--note decorative tile roofs

Gooseneck faucets in the kitchen--fake nuns were a bit creepy

15th Century Flemish Polyptych

Looking from pharmacy into a garden (loved window latch)

Next on our agenda was the 1:27 pm train for Paris, followed by a connection to Le Parray, a small village approximately 30 miles outside of Paris.  We had an invitation from Chris's good friend, Valerie, to spend two nights with her and her family.  Chris had met Valerie in Japan when they were both in college there. Valerie was from Paris where her parents owned a restaurant until their retirement, when they moved from the city.  Valerie has fond memories of West Virginia, having spent two months in the summer with Greg and his family in Fayetteville before returning to Paris following their semester in Japan, and she was eager to see us and return the hospitality -- even though she and her husband and two sons (age 4 and 2) had just moved on Friday and we appeared on Monday.

Antoine (pronounced Ahntwahn) and Quentin  (Kahntahn)

Talk about gracious!  She and Eric, her husband, did absolutely everything to assure our comfort;  and her sincerity was evident when she cried as we said goodbye after our stay.  During our time with the family, we were treated to two delicious dinners, courtesy of Eric, on their back patio, complete with wine from Eric's father's 1000 bottle wine-cellar.  While we were enjoying ourselves in the daytime, Eric was at work in Paris, but that didn't dampen his enthusiasm for preparing a gourmet meal for us both evenings we were there.

The Abbey dates from the 1100s

Valerie had taken two days off from her job (manager of purchasing for a large chain of stores), and treated us to lunch in one of her favorite restaurants, and a  day trip to a nearby historic site called l'Abbaye des Vaux de Cernay, with magnificent grounds, ruins, and a hotel, which is still receiving guests.

I wandered away from my little family to go snoop and found every room to be too gorgeous and heavy with carved paneled walls, creaky floors (love those), lots of interesting and mysterious niches, and soft-spoken, suit-wearing staff.  I peaked into a large formally done-up dining room and figured the staff was preparing for something big.  Gave some thought to checking the name of the china on the well-dressed tables, but figured I'd better not.

We all loved the rich and smoky lounge,
bookshelves framing the large fireplace

Rejoined my family in a lounge, filled with cushioned deep seated chairs, two to four clustered around small cocktail tables;  a grand piano reigning on one side, a well-used fireplace taking center-stage on the long wall opposite the wall of windows.  The fireplace gave the room the scent of a lodge, the scent that long hours of deep-drawing embers would create.  When I mentioned this to my family, Greg said, yes, he believed he would totally enjoy a cognac and cigar, thank you. 

Corporate meetings held in the hotel included one that my husband, Greg Eads, found interesting.

Chris, Valerie, me, and Tisha at the Abbey

I would love to learn the history of the Abbey.
The whispers are in the breeze, flowing through the ruins, and echoing down the corridors--but, alas, I do not speak French.  But perhaps, on my next visit . . .

Ancient echoes in the Abbey corridors

Our next morning, Wednesday, was an early one.  Valerie had arranged for a local cab company to pick us up and deliver us to the train station in a nearby town for our morning trip into Paris.  Chris and Tisha's flight back to the US was about 10 am and we needed to get them to Charles de Gaulle Airport by 8.  When the driver deposited us at the train station, and we reached into our pockets to pay him, he put up his hands and said "Already paid!"  That Valerie . . .

Our trip went smoothly, and at the airport we said farewell to Chris and Tisha before arranging our lodging for two nights;  this was a bit anxiety-producing for me since I'd never before entered Paris without knowing where I'd be sleeping!  Because our flight was going to be very early on Friday, we decided that the best course of action was to stay in a hotel right there at the airport.  Paris public transportation in the form of subway and bus is fast and efficient, but unfortunately, not early enough to get us to the airport when we needed.  Cab service would be profoundly expensive.  Fortunately, a very helpful resource person at a visitors' desk in the airport arranged our room in a lovely hotel, Ibis, literally steps from Terminal 3.   Charles de Gaulle airport is huge, with three terminals, joined by a swift and continuous shuttle train, and our Friday morning flight was out of Terminal 1, a very speedy shuttle ride away.

Teensy tiny-shower to the right

Since our last visit to Paris in 2008, we felt no urgency on this trip to attempt to cover too much in sightseeing in such a little time, so having to take a train from de Gaulle into the city for what little bit we planned to do wasn't a deal-breaker, especially since we had our Eurail Pass.   We just couldn't manage to wake up in Paris the morning of our flight and have an easy time of getting TO the airport.  Our room there was comfortable and attractive --one that accommodates, I'm sure, many airline staff.  I got the biggest kick out of our bathroom, which was only a little bigger than one on a jet, with the addition of a tiny shower.  It had to have been my imagination, but I could swear I felt the room moving, like at 30,000 feet (we were on the 2nd floor).

For breakfast, rather than taking time in one of the hotel's restaurants, we popped into the airport at our hotel's back, and grabbed a baguette, yogurt, and juice.  Very convenient!

Sacre Couer

So, it might sound like a tremendous waste, but Greg and I spent the rest of that first day at the airport, problem-solving and getting our bearings.  We had stayed on the move since our forays into Salzburg, and we knew we needed some kick-back time.  Thursday arrived bright and clear, and we took off to explore the Basilica of the Sacre Couer, high on a hilltop in the seamier section of Paris called Montmarte.  Its location provides a great view of the city.  The parade of tourists reminded us, in case we had forgotten, that this is a favorite of visitors to Paris.

Crowds moving up to the main doors

View from the Basilica across Paris

There was a framework, just visible in the view at the left,  that was erected down the steps in
front of the Basilica -- and that appeared to be a skateboard ramp.  We weren't there long enough to find out its purpose.

The breath-taking Basilica

Pictures of the interior were not allowed (despite the signs inside the entrance, some visitors were snapping away, and a church official was kept busy stopping them); so if you'd like to see inside, I'd recommend that you Google the Sacre Couer of Paris.

From there we made our way back to familiar territory -- we wanted to return to the Museum D'Orsay, and to walk in the Tuileries Gardens, near the Louvre.  This was a very good decision.  First, we had a late lunch at an outdoor cafe at the Museum D'Orsay's back.  Then, upon our rounding the building toward the front, a museum official sized us up, figuring we looked like we could use a break (been on our feet forever), opened a side door, and said step on in.  That kept us from continuing several yards to the line at the front door, and we needed only to walk to a desk for our admission tickets.  Wow.

The D'Orsay is famous for its impressionist art, and we spent the rest of the afternoon relishing in Monet, Manet, Cezanne, and others.  There are also historic sculptures and whole rooms of interiors - furniture and architectural detail of many periods.  We were so absorbed in our visit, that we took no pictures -- if any were allowed.  Actually, it didn't even become an issue for us.  If you love beautiful things, then go to Paris, and spend a day at the D'Orsay.   For fresh air, move to the Tuileries, the gardens adjoining the Louvre, where you'll find the locals as well as the tourists, spending peaceful afternoons walking, reading on benches, having a cup of coffee, or simply watching the sailboats at play in the fountain.

Tuileries Gardens 

View from the Tuileries