Tuesday, October 8, 2002

    This was one of our best days. We were beginning to flag, so did not rise early, and got a good nights sleep after stuffing ourselves at Balzar. We took a bus to Montparnasse to board a train for Chartres. At the train station, we were going to use a caisse automatique to buy our ticket, but B thought we should talk to a human being. That turned out to be a good idea, because the machine tickets would have cost EUR 46 and the human being tickets were EUR 34. B said, "I just thought that there was one part of that machine choice that I didn't understand. So I wasn't really sure that we'd done the best thing."
    The train took an hour and a quarter (we left at 12:15) and stopped several times, first at Versailles. On the way out of Paris, B was keeping his eyes peeled, and we caught a brief glimpse of the Eiffel Tower, just like in our favorite movie. We arrived in Chartres at 1:30, and could see the cathedrals spires rising over the town. And the cathedral dominates the town from all directions, so it was very easy to just head uphill to it from the station. Chartres is a nice little town, prettifying itself for tourists in a very pleasant way. It has a "world capital of glass making" school and shops, and plenty of little restaurants, all closed for the afternoon when we arrived!
    The cathedral is magnificent. It is dark inside because there are few lights and many of the windows need cleaning and attention, so the light through them is especially rich. The windows at the west door were unbelievable; huge, detailed and colorful; even more so when he sun was coming right through them in the later afternoon. There is a special dark madonna and child that is the cathedral's most popular worship spot—many people praying and many candles lit. The Treasury is supposed to hold St. Mary's tunic or chemise.
    And of course, the labyrinth. There it was, dark stone against the lighter of the floor. Laura should have been there. It was mostly covered by chairs, so we couldn't walk it. The chairs are taken up on Fridays so that visitors can walk the labyrinth. So I guess it's good that Laura wasn't there, because now we all have to go back on a Friday! We could see the center part perfectly well, and see that the central copper plaque, which supposedly depicted Theseus and the Minotaur, is missing. It was melted down for armaments for Napoleon's wars. Chartre's labyrinth is the only remaining medieval example; all the others were torn out in later centuries as frivolous and silly games.
    There are two wonderful windows in the ambulatory. One has the signs of the zodiac in small lozenges, with pictures depicting appropriate activities next to each sign. And for Pisces (February and March, my sign) there was a man warming his naked feet in front of a roaring fire. Bucky thought that was hilarious and absolutely correct! Just by the zodiac window is the Beautiful Window of the Virgin, with much of the exquisite Chartres blue glass.
    The facade of the cathedral is also fascinating. Thousands of sculpted figures depict Bible stories, saints and martyrs—two of them were armored knights—horrible animals, angels, domestic activities, musicians and lots more. One angel on a corner holds a large sundial.
    We spent three hours in and around the cathedral, had anchovy pizza and tuna sandwich snacks in a pretty little tea shop, then headed for the gare to catch the 6:30 train.
    The platform was full of students! And our train car was packed with them, chattering and carrying on. It was quite invigorating. We had remarked on our trip down that no one checked our tickets. This time, a conductor did come through. One young man, seated just across from us, had no ticket and apparently got in some trouble. I guess he was taking a chance on there not being a conductor that trip. Most of the kids emptied out at the first stop, a few got on. We saw the Eiffel tower again, and knew we were back. Our next-to-the-last French excursion was over.
    Because of course we still needed supper, and I wanted more chocroute. Marie told us that at least one of the brasseries across from the train station up near the river was serving chocroute, and indeed one was. Not the nicest place we ate on our trip, maybe even the dumpiest, but the chocroute was fine. B had steak and pommes frites, and had a time of it explaining to the waiter that he wanted it very rare. Eventually our waiter made a flipping motion with his hand, saying, "Pishht, pishht," and B agreed. The steak was indeed almost raw, just the way B likes it.

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