April 27, 2024
Day 81: Gouillons to Rambouillet
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As we left the Loire yesterday we passed through a bit of the uninspired cityscape found outside all modern cities. But after that we were into a whole new world, of grain and rape fields, and with very old looking buildings made of rough stone. We passed through small village after small village like that, with small roads joining them. It was really quite something.
When we arrived in the, yes, small village of Guillons, late in the evening, it had begun to rain. Without looking around much at the town or the chambre d'hote where we were, we did our standard routine - including writing the blog - and quit. Today of course we could open our eyes a bit more and see where we were.
Where we were was inside a building from 1225 - 13th century. It was directly adjacent to the old stone church, 12th century. In fact there was a bricked up doorway facing the church, with a Templar insignia in the wall there. That's why our host calls the place the former Templar house.
But the first thing we looked at was the bird, an Amazon parrot that lived in the kitchen. We liked him a lot, though he spoke only French
The real star was this pussycat. Since we have increased our time away from home, we have not replaced the up to six cats at a time that we had for much of our lives, and we love cats. This one spent the night in our bed. Cats adore Dodie, while they will usually put up with me.
The house featured stone floors, rough hewn beams, and stone walls. It was a great place. I did feel that breakfast touched the lowest rung of what you find in France, with just coffee/hot chocolate, toast, packaged yogurt, and packaged apple sauce. However that toast came with jam, and in the second photo below we can see seven jams. But seven jams, as has now long been established, do not make up a "seven jammer".
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We rolled out of the forest and into the rather gay little tourist town of Rambouillet. This is famous for its chateau, but today there was a market all along its main street.
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Just beside the market was a park with a large oval pond, called Le Rondeau. It's part of the waterworks around the chateau. We found a bench there to try out our Syrian food find. The pond had Canada Geese, which are common in many countries, and a Chaffinch came by briefly, not to mention some Mallards and Magpies. But these could not be what put Rambouillet on Dodie's birding map. It turns out there is a thing called Espace Rambouillet, just outside of town, displaying wildlife of the surrounding forest, and including an apparently famous raptor show. This could have been fun, but rain was now falling steadily, so we turned tail and headed for the hotel.
Since today was my birthday, it seemed some cake would be in order. The GPS turned up at least four bakeries in two blocks, let's go! It's silly about the birthday, because what has been the excuse for finding the bakery on probably each of the previous 79 days of this trip?
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Our hotel is directly adjacent to the chateau, and has a four star rating. And our large room is on the ground floor, quite near the lobby. It would have been easy to just roll our bikes in, but there was no need since they had a nice baggage space for them.
The other thing about the lobby was that there came at one point to be a lot of hubub there. I went for a look, and found a rather unique thing. There were about twenty rather large and well stuffed young women (like in their 30's?) all done up in bouffant satin gowns, matching hair styles, and lots of makeup. The gowns were not all the same, but they all were in shades of purple or violet. These women were gathered to one side, and milling around opposite was an equivalent number of buff young men, wearing purple jackets, often, and white pants. Without any background knowledge, I surmised these people were from a Guadeloupe immigrant community.
So, I marched up to the women, and asked them why they were all dressed like that. They explained that it was a wedding, and that the happy couple had specified this as the dress style and colour. I persisted (being a natural bug) and asked whether the bride would nonetheless appear in white, and where was she, anyway. I am not sure if they answered directly, or merely allowed me to persist in my own idea that the bride, in white, was still upstairs.
I returned to our room and recounted this to Dodie, adding that I had been too shy to take any pictures. Dodie encouraged me to go back and just ask about a picture. I did that, approaching a group of four - as I say, well stuffed, heavily painted, young(ish) women. They did pause slightly to listen to my request, but instantly returned to their conversation. I think they instinctively felt the best way to deal with this bug was to ignore it (him).
Slow to take a hint, I went and stood among the large and powerful seeming young men, even if they were dressed in lilac. This produced some mild "making strange" vibes. So as a conversation opener, I asked the nearest one about the choice of colours. It was specified by the wedding party, was the answer, consistent with the ladies'.
In other situations, in several countries, when we come upon local people doing their local stuff, we seem to be able to wade in, getting some photos, while usually being totally ignored, even if dressed all in yellow. But here I got an off vibe, not that anything was said, that my camera could end in the lake, and maybe me too. I decided to withdraw. All I have is some not suitable for publication photos of some ample, bouffant, purple backsides.
One addendum to this poorly developed story. Among the large young women, but off to one side, was a just as purple but thin, old, and shrunken woman. My "blink" reaction to her was fear. I don't even know if these people are from a place where voodoo is a thing, but I really wasn't trying a photo of that one!
Today's ride: 44 km (27 miles)
Total: 3,955 km (2,456 miles)
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Noe also sent birthday wishes. So nice!
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