Vignory

France is known for its soaring Gothic cathedrals, such as Notre Dame in Paris, or the cathedral in Chartres, but we much prefer the Romanesque churches. We came to Vignory to see what is probably the earliest Romanesque church anywhere; we were not disappointed. We also had the bonus of finding a town that well represents old France: ancient buildings, quiet and, unfortunately, falling apart slowly.

The Church

Stepping into this Church was like stepping back in time about a thousand years. Iglesia St. Etienne was started in 924, on top of an earlier church. That's about a hundred years earlier than the next earliest Romanesque Church still standing. The simple and solid lines present Romanesque architecture at its best.

This church was actually pre-Romanesque, showing Carolingian influences, but it clearly shows the strong and simple forms that, once picked up by architects, found expression throughout France, Germany and Spain. About a three hundred years later, the first Gothic churches were constructed (St. Denis and Notre Dame, in Paris; the cathedrals in Sens and Chartres), and Romanesque passed into history.













The Gothic Cathedrals and churches of Europe get all the attention, with their soaring beauty, but we like the Romanesque better. We're willing to go quite a ways to see these beautiful buildings; Vignory certainly rewarded us for our effort to get there.

The Town of Vignory

Other than the Church, Vignory offers nothing for the tourist (and the Church was empty except for us, so even it draws few tourists). There must be thousands of these towns in France, and Spain and Italy and everywhere: small towns once centered on agriculture, now slowing declining. Young people move to cities where there is education and employment, agriculture becomes more automated, requiring fewer people, towns shrink.

These towns contain a ghost of their previous lives, and are enjoyable for a stroll for that reason. But one has to wonder about their future: we saw few young people, few open businesses (the town hall is open four hours per week) and no signs of a future. Yet there remains a charm to these towns, a slow way of life not found in the cities that continue to grow and thrive.

The main street of Vignory.

Some other "sights" in Vignory.

Two women talking.



Three residents watching me watching them.

Langres

If you've read much of this blog, this year or last, or had to endure my travel stories and pictures, you know that we love the smaller towns in our travels. Sixty years ago, the American writer/journalist Elliot Paul, wrote this about Langres:

The old city, and there is no other, covers the top of a hill, one of the foothills of the Vosges. The wall still stands, and one may walk on top of it, around the city, and on the outside is the fertile plain, those white roads lined with poplars, on hilltops, red-roofed villages set off with stately trees, surrounded by farms that make patchworks of color in concentric bands. Inside the city you will find the Middle Ages you have heard so much about, and you will learn that they had something we have lost, and lacked much we have discovered. There is nothing else remarkable about Langes, few relics in museums that bring pilgrims hence, no restaurants whose specialties are watchwords of gourmets. The food is excellent and plain, and not expensive enough to be frenzedly praised. You will tread stones that were old when Columbus sailed the seas, if you care for treading stones. You will look into windows out of which the age of chivalry has passed, leaving behind its aroma and flavor. You will feel the ache of wondering what was the past, of what is now, and what, if anything, shall be. You will not be talkative on the way back toward Paris, and home.

That passage describes better than anything I've read or written, why we travel. "...The ache of wondering what was the past..." seems most alive in the smaller places, which haven't felt the push for constant updating and modernization. Places like Langres call to us.

Since I read that passage by Paul, I've wanted to visit Langres, not knowing if it had changed or what it might have become.

Langres has, of course, changed, but I think Elliot Paul would easily recognize it, and could write the same passage today. Not knowing what to expect here, we stayed only a night. We will return. I think Langre could become a favorite for both of us.

The walls of Langres at sunset. There are two miles of these walls.

Catching up

It's been a while since I posted, but we haven't been idle. Friday we all came down to the town of Chartrettes, where our great friends Mary and Gilles live. They drove to Paris to pick up luggage and a few of us for the drive back to Chartrettes, but we had so many bags/strollers/car seats/etc., that we almost filled the car with luggage. Gilles and Laurie drove to Chartrettes; the rest of us took the train.

Saturday we had a huge dinner: Craig, Annie and Clara; Derek and Jill; Laurie and me; Mary and Gilles; and our other great French friends, Jamie and Hervé. We had a huge amount of duck, fabulous potatos, salad, cheese, blackberry crisp. Oh, yeah, I forgot: we had a bit of wine. And champagne. It was a wonderful dinner; as I said then, we had together our American family and our French family. Very nice, indeed.

Then Sunday, as we tried to recover, we decided to celebrate Clara's first birthday, which is today (Tuesday); and yes, we don't know where the year went, either. First, she got to eat her first shouquette, which is a French breakfast sweet. She liked it, and I took my favorite picture of her.




Better than any other picture I've got, this one captures the gleam that Clara often has in her eyes. Craig and Annie are going to have their hands full with this little angel.

That night, it was on to the birthday cake, or, in is case, birthday pastry. This one had custard and whipped cream and other stuff (Craig, who picked it out, likes "teeth-hurting sweet" treats). She liked this, too. As did we.




After all these sweets, there was no mystery as to she didn't sleep much that night. Can you say "suger high?"

Monday morning, Craig and Annie and Clara flew back to Berlin, and Derek and Jill took the train back to Paris. For a year, we've hoped that this Paris/Chartrettes family reunion would work out, and that it did still kind of amazes me. It was just wonderful. Many, many thanks to Mary and Gilles, who opened up their home to the Zumsteg horde, fed us excellent meal after excellent meal, decimated their wine cellar for us, and made us their family for the weekend. You don't find friends better than that.

Today, we go to Burgundy. Our first stop mystifies people: Colombey-des-Deux-Eglises, the home, and burial place, of Charles DeGaulle. I've read quite a bit about DeGaulle, and just kinda want to pay my respects. Then on to Vignory, a village of a couple hundred people that has a beautiful Romanesque Church. We're looking forward to seeing a part of France we haven't visited yet.

A Long Walk

We saw:

A Metal Church (Église Notre Dame du Travail):


A beautiful apartment building, built in 1910, Paris' "Belle Epoque."


Another beautiful apartment building, this one built in 1903, as "Maisons Ouvières," workers apartments. They still are that.



A houseboat we might be able to afford.



And Hector Guimard's masterpiece of Art Nouveau architecture, Castel Beranger. This private building has a courtyard and when two workman came out of the courtyard, I caught the gate before it closed so we could go in. Unfortunately, then we couldn't find the button to unlock the gate and let us out. So there we were, in the very private courtyard of a very private and famous apartment building and no way to get out. Laurie eventually found the button and we got out without a problem. Got some great pictures, too.

Photograph Woes

I understand that the pictures on the blog are not looking so great, and I can't figure it out. If you double-click on a photo, it'll expand and you can see it in high-resolution. Sorry about that; I'll get it figured out, about the time I get home.

Update: I think I figured out the solution, though I don't know why it was doing what it was doing. Regardless, I've tried to fix the photos so they look better.

Family Reunion

Last year when we left Paris, Laurie said, "Next year let's come just to Paris. Let's get the kids to come and we'll have a family reunion here." I thought that was a great idea, of course, but knew that getting it together could be hard to pull off. But today it did, indeed, happen..
At lunch....

Ile St. Louis -  our typical French lunch, but with the whole dang family!

In the park, waiting for Taverne Henri IV to open.

Yes, her hair is that red!

In our favorite place in Paris, Taverne Henri IV. Madame Virmoux, who along with her husband, owns the place, loved Clara, let her explore anywhere, including behind the bar.

Quiet Places

Paris is a big city, and it can seem overwhelming. We've been watching out for quiet places here, and have found many. Here are some photos of our favorites.

A passage in Faubourg St. Antoine.

A walkway in Autueil, which is pronounced exactly as it looks: "Oh-toy." Crazy language.

Another passage in Faubourg St. Antoine. This is fifty yards from a busy, raucous street, but calm and quiet here.

A small park, between two busy streets and surrounded by apartments and stores. It even had a pea-patch where local residents grew vegetable gardens.

Waiting out the rain in the Marais.

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The gardens of Palais Royale