Innocents Abroad

 You might think that people on holidays would cease to make any distinctions between weekdays and weekends, and that might be true on a cruise ship or resort, but if you want to move with the vibes of the culture to which you hope to become enculturated, you have to note 'la différence'. And so, on Saturday morning, nous avons fait la grasse matinée (sleep-ins in France sound so much more elegant), and started our day by wandering down to one of our two favourite boulangeries to indulge in our favourite patisseries. You may recognize the Bonne Maman jam! My chosen butter-chocolate-and-sugar bomb is the cruffin (top right). Believe it or not, like Butter Chicken's relationship to India , this delicacy was not created in France or even a former French colony, and certainly not by a French pastry chef. Oh la la! It took an Australian with a very English name, Kate Reid (who did actually study croissant making en France) who took the croissant dough and shaped it like a muffin...

  After almost four weeks wandering down cobbled streets, hurtling through metro tunnels, and humming along the railroad tracks, it appears that the charms of Paris - and environs - are never ending. Almost every day we turn a corner to find yet another bas relief, sculpture, historic plaque, gargoyle, idyllic park, iconic edifice, or simply beauty to dazzle us once again. Already I am fearing our return to Hogtown, which is at its most charming when hidden by a foot of snow.  That being said, the Chateau of Versailles is not one of those unexpected finds you make upon rounding a corner. We had planned our trip well over a week ago. In fact, just beyond the time meteorologists require to make an accurate prediction.  Thus, our sunny preconceptions were dashed by a deluge that began as we woke on Wednesday. We bravely set out from the Versailles train station, our single umbrella held evenly between us so that at least our rain jackets stayed dry. And of course, being over...

  Reims. Church of the unpronounceable name – and the smiling angel. L’ange au sourire. Flat Matt and the angel Two days after we heard the great knocks on the doors of Notre Dame on Palm Sunday, we took the train through more green-and-golden countryside to another Notre Dame, Notre Dame de Reims, and saw him, l'ange au sourire . He greets you as you enter, standing right there by the door. His is a smile of great sweetness, striking against the immensity of the place.  The cathedral is enormous. It rises in weathered stone some 285 feet at its highest point, the angel on the bell tower; it is a vertiginous experience to look up at the towers against the scudding clouds. They seem to be falling, fast, right on top of you.  The West Facade                   The nave, looking west (actually south-west - the Cathedral is oriented  south-west/north-east, along the axis of the summer solstice, perhaps a sign of its antiquity. ...