Le Quatorze Juillet

Bastille Day is a purely English term. The French call their national holiday The Fourteenth of July, just like we call ours The Fourth of July. Madame Le Chef and I have friends who spend part of every year in the small French town of Montsoreau where they own a house. The town is on the left bank of the Loire and has a particularly charming way of celebrating the national holiday.

They hold their celebration on the night of the thirteenth of July so people can go to the much larger fireworks shows in the nearby cities on the fourteen.

When it's almost dusk the band marches up the street to the town hall, playing. (Please click.)

They stop there while the mayor and some officials pass out Chinese lanterns with lighted candles to the little kids. This would never happen in the US. Think of the law suits.

Then when all the kids have lanterns and it's almost dark, the crowd of a few hundred follows the band down to the river and walks along it to the village square where there will be music later.

The fireworks are shot off from a barge in the middle of the Loire.

The next morning in the neighboring town of Fontevraud-l'Abbaye the more traditional civic ceremonies are celebrated with an Army honor guard.

Also members of the police, the fire department and the same band that played the night before in Montsoreau.

And of course, the mayor gives a short speech. (She's the small figure in front of the bush.)

Calvary

During our car trip through Brittany, we were driving down from some low mountains and out of a patch of rain when we hit the town of Pleyben and saw this. We immediately parked and walked back to take some pictures. (Please click.)

The dark sky made it look extra dramatic but it was pretty dramatic on its own.

We found out later that it was an excellent example of a parish close, a type of religious architecture unique to Brittany.

The sculptural part of the structure is a calvaire (Calvary) which depicts the crucifixion but also other scenes from Christ's life.

Although it was made in the 16th century it seems very medieval.

The Bretons are a Celtic people with their own language (although it's not widely spoken today) and their own religious traditions.

As we were photographing the calvaire the sky was lightening up.

The Mulberry Harbors

The first place that Madame Le Chef and I stayed at in Normandy was a five minute drive from the French seaside town of Arromanche. This town was one of two locations where the British established temporary harbors during the 1944 Normandy landings. The harbors were built in England and towed across the channel. They were called Mulberry Harbors. The other harbor was set up at Omaha Beach but was destroyed in an intense storm on June 19, 1944. The same storm damaged the Mulberry harbor at Arromanche but it was repaired and continued to function till it was no longer needed. Part of it is still there like an abstract monument to the war.

These pictures were taken on a rainy day.

Danger!

This is a replica of the road ways that ran between the larger supports. This is part of a small but very informative museum on the harbors.

Le Mont-St-Michel Part 2

The street that ascends from the town gate to the abbey atop the hill is like a vertical Fisherman's Wharf without (thank god) the sea lions. It's nothing but souvenirs and snacks and we didn't take any pictures of it. The abbey on the other hand is a completely worthwhile goal. (Please click.)

The view of Le Mont in the distance is one of its delights and the other is the view from on top of it.

These are the vehicular and the pedestrian causeways that snake their ways out from the mainland. They're still under construction.

The sands around Le Mont attract plenty of visitors who have presumably checked the tide tables.

If you look closely you can see some visitors in this image also.

The abbey has it's own delights, like a garden sheltered from the perpetual wind.

Also a light filled refectory.

But the visitors concentrate on taking pictures of the view.

Le Mont-St-Michel Part 1

For us, Mont-St-Michel had it's strongest impact as a vision in the distance. We first glimpsed it across a field next to the road. It looked like an immense statue on the horizon. (Please click.)

That evening, it was visible over the marshy pastures across the road from our motel.

When we finally took a bus out the causeway to see it, it revealed itself to be a 17th century French town. It was not as magical up close.

We preferred the distant vision. I'm not sure what the sheep thought.

French Inscriptions

During our trips to France we have recorded various building inscriptions. The French are good at keeping track of the births and deaths and doings of notable people. For you film fans here's Méliès birthplace near the Place de la République in Paris. The inscription says he was born in the building on December 8, 1861 and describes him as a creator of cinematic spectacles, a prestidigitator and the inventor of numerous illusions.

Any philosophy groupies out there? Here's Michel Foucault's birthplace in the city of Poitiers. It says it's "The birth house" of Foucault and describes him as a historian, philosopher and professor at the College of France.

This inscription commemorates Henri Becquerel's discovery of radiation in a laboratory in this building near the Jardin des Plantes. It would be even cooler if the words glowed.

Marshal up you aesthetes and decadents. This inscription marks the "house" (actually a hotel) where Oscar Wilde died. It's on the Left Bank in Paris. The hotel has been fixed up but at the time Wilde stayed there, it was a sad and dirty place. Wilde is described as a poet and dramaturge, born in Dublin, died in Paris.

The French keep track of some pretty old stuff. This sign in the Collegiate Church in the village of Candes-Saint-Martin in the Loire Valley indicates the place where St. Martin died in 397 CE. It says it is a place of contemplation and prayer.

French Finale, Bits and Pieces

There are extensive vineyards on the plateau above the town of Montsoreau. This windmill is in the middle of one of them. It looks like it was designed by Hieronymus Bosch.

This is the front of the church of Notre Dame la Grande in Poitiers. It dates from the 10th and 11th centuries. It's profusion of statues seems almost Hindu in its exuberance.

This is a detail of some of the statues. They've had their heads removed. This was probably done during the French Revolution when stone saints were being beheaded, along with kings and aristocrats.

This statue is in the Cathedral in Nantes. It is one of four wise virgins guarding a tomb. How having an old man's face on the back of your head, makes you wise, is not clear to me.

This is a very serious conversation which cannot be interrupted by a brass band in Nantes.

Madame Le Chef, myself and two friends were forced to consume this plate of charcuterie and cheese in order to keep body and soul together while we waited for a late dinner reservation at another restaurant in Nantes. Travel can be rough.

La Défense

The French only built one skyscraper in central Paris, the Tour Montparnasse, and immediately regretted it. All the other highrise buildings are exiled beyond the Péripherique, the beltway that separates central Paris from its suburbs. Most of the skyscrapers are clustered in La Défense, a planned business section in northwest Paris. A friend once suggested that Mme Le Chef and I visit it, but I was enthralled by old Paris and pooh-poohed the idea. Then one day we happened to be in the bus station underneath La Défense and decided to take a look. When we came up from below we saw this.

It's the Grande Arche, an office building shaped like, yep, a hugh arch.

It justifies the use of the word, "monumental".

The Grande Arche was designed and situated to echo the Arc de Triomphe, which can be seen from it, in the distance. They are laid out out in a line called the Arc historique.

This axis is continued on the opposite side of the Grande Arche, where a pedestrian path leads off to the further suburbs and beyond.

These photos are from 2007.

Richelieu

When Madame Le Chef and I were visiting friends in the Loire Valley in 2008, they suggested that we go see the town of Richelieu. Although I had heard of the famous Cardinal, I knew nothing about the town. Turns out the town was the ancestral home of the Cardinal and, at the height of his power, when he was running France for Louis XIII, he had a new town built on top of the old one. It was constructed between 1631 and 1642, which seems like pretty fast work for a whole town. It is walled, with a moat around it, and designed on a strict grid plan. Next to the town, Cardinal Richelieu built a huge palace, set in a correspondingly large park.

The town is still there and the park is still there but the palace was dismantled and sold off as building material in the 19th Century. Apparently it was not a political act. A real estate agent just wanted to make some money. Sic transit gloria mundi.

Except for cars and no merde in the streets, the town preserves its 17th Century appearance.



The Cardinal presides over the parking lot at the entrance to the park.



There are remaining outbuildings, gardens and canals but there does seem to be some huge thing missing.





The woods have vistas carved into them that are vaguely ominous.



The evidence of what was there.