Dear Kristin (and Mother, of course!)
One of the goals Mark and I shared for our time together in France was lighting a candle in memory of your beloved Duke. We thought about which church (well, perhaps not all that long), and then yesterday it all fell into place. But let me back up a bit.
We decided to take the train to the small medieval city of Provins, east of Paris, about 90 minutes by train. We met at Gare de l'Est (train station for heading east). Since Mark and I are taller than most Frenchmen, we are easy to spot. Finding the right track took longer, but Mark noticed that it was finally announced.
The town has several lovely streams flowing between the houses, with the water moving quite rapidly. It seemed to be very clear, almost drinkable.
We walked along, finally ascending a long stairway leading up to the ancient fortified city.
The tourist information office was our next stop (best restrooms!). The city is enamored with its roses, which were everywhere, though the season was ending. People seem willing to add rose water to many things on menus, even beer.
We enjoyed seeing old homes, built in centuries unknown to us. Some requiring renovation were especially interesting because they showed how things looked in older days. Mark picked up a brochure with prices, checking out available real estate on the train back to Paris.
The old tithe barn (sturdy building on the left; "dime" = 1/10th) is in good shape, but we did not take the tour.
Lunch time in Provins. All sorts of restaurants were available, from one established in the 1200s, to the fancy establishment overlooking the wall. We settled instead on a simple crêperie featuring goodies from Normandy, including bowls of delicious cider. We ate under a yellow awning which occasionally lept up some ten feet with large gusts of wind tore through the city square. My crêpe had Emmental cheese, ham, possibly white cheese and herbs. Excellent and not too heavy.
But I have been neglecting your Duke, sorry. The time had come for Mark and me to light a candle in his memory, so we headed off to the ancient church built for the local secular monks, the Collégiale Saint Quiriace, where Joan of Arc once heard Mass with Charles VII shortly after his coronation. Our timing was not good, so we were not able to gain access to the apse of the main church because a Mass was in progress. There are so few such services in secular France (not enough priests), that we just sat and observed, doing nothing to interrupt. I had recognized the celebrant's Latin chant as being the words which precede the Sanctus, so we knew that it would take a while. We moved on.
We headed down the hill, back to the lower city, which is also old and interesting. Groups of school children were seen everywhere, absorbing at least a bit of the history of their area. I always find school children in France to be very well behaved and respectful.
I guided our group to some other churches, but one was closed, its chapel being reserved in the old days for people in the infirmary. We then headed to another high tower which dominated the landscape. We learned that this was the Tour Notre Dame du Val. But the tower is all that is left of the former grand church, and now, instead of providing entrance into the church, the tower's broad archway allows traffic to flow through to the streets on the other side.
One more tower was in sight, that of the the "Ancien prieuré Saint-Ayoul de Provins", the former Benedictine priory. This has been nicely restored and is obviously used frequently.
We saw that candles were available at the front of the south aisle, so that's where we went.
A candle was purchased (2 euros), lit and set in place in Duke's memory. R.I.P.
Immediately outside the church, we saw a sign honouring dogs and offering doggie baggies, but not the type requested in restaurants.
Time to head back.
And time for a very light supper--a plate of assorted cheeses, sausages, dried ham, pickles, bread and butter, all assisted with beer and other assorted beverages on a square not far from their beautiful little hotel. Young people, possibly lycée students, were filling many of the tables.
The is the walkway leading up to their hotel on the left. Not bad.
Breakfast can be had on the patio, but Mark wisely prefers the coffee and baked goodies elsewhere.
The four of us agreed that this whole day, and indeed the past two days, had been a 'dream come true'. Today, they are hopefully enjoying the Musée d'Orsay. I'm soon off to see the Blough's new apartment, and how far along the construction is coming.
Meanwhile,
Love from us both,
Evan
