11 March 2010

Day Eight, London/Paris/Chartres, 9 March 2010



Today is Eurostar day!  Better than that it will be a Paris day, and even better than that it will be a Chartres day!  I get up early and get myself over to St. Pancras International.  Very nice set-up.  You check in and then are ushered past passport control (you enter France in London) and then to a nice waiting area with restaurants, etc.  I buy a water and an egg mayonnaise (read egg salad) sandwich and wait for the gate to open.  The train is really quite ordinary, the Thalys in France, and even Regionali in Italy seemed nicer.  I am excited, however.

We pass through the English countryside, and I am thinking of our tourguide's (Rodney) (he was the tourguide on the Windsor, Bath, Stonehenge tour) remarks about the disappearance of hedgerows in England.  Apparently not here.  They are still present and give the countryside that "counterpane" kind of look.  It is quite lovely.  It is cloudy and grey, however.  As we go into the chunnel, I fall asleep.

Suddenly it's all light and we are in France.  The whole countryside has changed.  There are large fields, and the evidence of lots of investment in infrastructure.  (On the return trip, I will find that I was seated on the wrong side of the train to see the English investment.)  The sun is shining and there are a few clouds in the sky - but it is sunny!  Lot's of windmills - the big kind.

Soon we are in Paris and it is a big change from London.  The graffiti is everywhere, above ground, underground, you name it.  The Paris Metro has more spacious cars, and those rubber wheels on M1, but they are just as noisy, and the stations seem cramped and dated.  (The London Underground is seeing a great deal of modernization, and the stations are generally clean, well-lighted and filled with information - not true in Paris).  But I'm in Paris - who cares!  I take the 5 to my hotel (Croix de Malte) and check in (the room won't be ready until 13:00) so I leave my briefcase with the clerk, and head out.  I take the 5 to the 1 and then the 12 south to Montparnasse.  I try to use one of the kiosks to by a ticket to Chartres, but they require a card with a chip.  (Sam Tuohey explained this to me: America uses phone rather than chip technology to speed transactions on cards - so we're at different points with this.)  I have to go to a window.

Chartres from the Train Station

The ride down is slow (8 stops), but comfortable.  One of the stops is at Versailles/Chantier, and we go to the South of the palace and great park, which I can see from the train window.  I could go there forever, and never get bored.  When I see the cathedral from the train it looks small to me, but it's a matter of perspective and situation, not size.  Outside it is bitter, bitter cold, and as I approach the cathedral, it is clear that they are doing major work.  The whole west end was unapproachable.  I go in the south portal, and I have a Nike of Samothrace moment.  I weep at the beauty.  Artificial lighting is kept to a minimum in the cathedral (as well as the heat - I suddenly realized the value of fur-lined cassocks) so you really get the feel of a medieval building.

The Labyrinth

There are lots of people, mainly Japanese.  I'm surprised, because I didn't see any tour buses.  I notice the labyrinth in the floor, and it is beautiful.  Most people are ignoring it.  The plan is to make about 3 or 4 circumambulations, and then go outside.  I notice flowers at the altar, and I see that a priest is preparing the chancel.  There is going to be a funeral, and soon pall bearers (four of them) enter the church with a wooden casket on their shoulders.  The priest accompanies the widow, and the organist is murdering Bach.  Time for tea!

The Serpentine Salon de The

This is a charming little tea room run by an English couple.  I have a tarte au citron and some black tea, and rest.  When I think the funeral is over (indeed the bells are tolling) I go back - but the organist is still at it.  I take some photos on the south elevation and then go in to find the Virgin.



The Blue Virgin

She is quite remarkable, an earlier window (three panels) set into a later window.  She attracts a great deal of attention with her periwinkle robe and halo.  So I walk around the cathedral inside - it is too cold outside for walking or photos.  I buy a book and meet a couple of Americans from Wichita, Kansas - a priest and his friend, and we have a pleasant conversation.  I never do find the baptismal font.  I take some photos on the north side, and decide to go back to the train station.



Statues from the north portico

I have planned badly - my train won't arrive for another hour and a half.  So I go have a hot chocolate, and read my book.  Only later do I go to the station and wait in a half-warm room (a French school girl sees the radiator I am standing next to, and rushes over with her friends.  She touches the radiator, and pronounces froid with all the derision her young voice can muster.)  I wait along with four drunks who are harmless and perhaps a bit amusing.  I go back to Paris, and to my hotel, having dinner at a favorite restaurant of mine in the Passage des Panoramas - Les Coulisses: escargot in puff pastry, and steak with green peppercorns.  Satiated, I go home.


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