Chateau de Vaux Le Vicomte outside Paris
Bonjour,
Yesterday, our entire day was a lovely trip to Château de Vaux le Vicomte about 55 kilometers outside of Paris. We went by a local train, all arranged by Jim Bilbro, and then caught a taxi from Melun out into the countryside. Once again, the weather was not our friend. It t was hot as Hades and the dryness of the summer created a dusty pall to everything. Much of the grass was all but burned up. The vibrant green of France which is usually so lovely has really been compromised.
Bernie took some great photos and a few from me on my cell phone. If you want to read more about the chateau, here is a good link: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vaux-le-Vicomte. I guess you could say that this chateau is an example of “no good deed goes unpunished.” It was so extravagant in design and beauty that the king was jealous, turned around and built Versailles and had the architect, Fouquet, arrested. Read about it and you’ll understand. This is a very active chateau, maintained by donations. They have events at Easter, Christmas and dinners in the gardens during the summer. Also a gourmet chocolate festival.
Two funnies that happened in our adventure. Jim was sure that he had purchased round-trip tickets for all of us but such was not the case when we tried to enter the train gate for our departure. We rushed to buy a new round of tickets. A gentleman in the queue latched onto Bernie, trying to be helpful. He was slightly intoxicated, was very loud, and was trying to tell Bernie all about how to navigate the train station as well as Paris. He was a dose too much and got old very fast. He followed us onto the train “voie” or platform. We subtlety and quickly walked two cars up trying to lose him. He followed us and proceeded to sit right across from us on the train. He chatted with Bernie the entire trip back to Paris. He said that he was an architect and had a work VISA for the USA. He kept pulling at Bernie’s shoulder to get his attention and insisted that Jim Bilbro looked just like Bob Dylan! Anyway, we did our best to avoid him as we were getting off the train and found ourselves running away as quickly as we could. I could see this guy finding his way to our apartment and crashing our little dinner which we had planned with the Bilbros. He lived near the Louvre so would have been on our subway Line 1. We never saw him again, and I joked that he was probably a billionaire. Had we been nicer, we might have benefited! But we were tired, very hot and ready to get home. A fun, interesting twist to our adventure.
This is my last blog until the final reflection. Enjoy the pics with captions.
Linda & Bernie
August 12, 2015 @ 11:19 am
What a lovely, ornate Chateau! It’s a pity it has been so dry, because I can see from the pictures how lovely the grounds would be in a richer green color.
I will miss your blog. As always, I have enjoyed it immensely !!!
Travel safely back to us.
August 12, 2015 @ 12:03 pm
I have enjoyed seeing Paris vicariously thru your eyes and Bernie’s great photos. Thanks for allowing me to follow along. You guys certainly packed a lot into every day. Safe travels home.
August 12, 2015 @ 12:17 pm
Look forward to seeing you across the patio on Saturday morning…but not too early!
August 12, 2015 @ 12:24 pm
A beautiful chateau in spite of the horrid weather conditions. The tale about the man truly sounded like a nightmare! Hard to believe it’s time to return. Temps have moderated a lot here- in cool 60’s in am. God speed and may it be a safe, uneventful trip home. What will I do in the morns with no Paris blog???😝😝
August 12, 2015 @ 12:29 pm
You are too kind, Judy! Tell Charles to get up and fix you a jus d’orange, a croissant and a café au lait!
August 12, 2015 @ 4:07 pm
Like Cindy said, the Chateau is indeed beautiful and the gardens fascinating, but I’m afraid the story of the stalking drunk is more interesting. Maybe we need another, more thorough discussion titled, “How to Handle a Stalking Drunk in a Foreign Country?” That would be a great freelance article for Condé Nast.