Day 12 Château Country has a Klohs Encounter

Day 12 Sunday, Oct. 26, 2008




Sundays present their problems when traveling in France or Europe in general.


Many things are closed and life pretty much shuts down, except for monuments and museums.

Sundays are good days to do cultural things, and oft times, at least in Paris, the museums are free, Le Louvre par exemple, or there is always a trip to Le Palais de Versailles.







We decided to put this Sunday to its best use, visiting the Châteaux on the Loire. Ted hadn’t been to many of them for several years. I could see any one of them weekly and probably never tire of them.











As the chateaux are a bit of distance from Paris (not on windy roads, but sometimes on trafficked roads, we thought a stopover in Chartres, with it’s incredible cathedral and other famous attractions would add nicely to the day. We would also arrive there at the right time to eat lunch.










The day was a cloudy one and it rained all night and into the morning. It quit when we got on the road. The sun peeked out and lit up various patches of countryside making enchanting but quickly fleeting highlights on country mansions, farm yards, sheep heads,








As we approached Chartres, it lit up the Cathedrale herself, or sometimes just sections, like her flying buttresses for instance.

It was difficult catching all of this on film… err… digital media because you had to be fast and continuously do a “exorcist” head turn to catch all that was transpiring around you.








Chartres makes it easier than most to get some wonderful shots. Unlike some of the other awe-inspiring cathedrals in France, Chartres sits like a jewel out in a pasture. It is easily visible from a great distance.













The cathedrale is unique - with two entirely different spires. Yet, it is this very feature of discord that makes Chartres the extraordinary beauty that she is.
I love Chartres.

We got to the cathedral just as the mass was letting out. People swarmed by us looking hungry, like they had their noses in the air sniffing for the wafting of cassoulet or bouillebaisse from their favorite neighboring restaurant.

"Ted, I think we have to skedaddle or we won’t get a seat anywhere within miles. I spy a restaurant down that little street. Let’s take a chance on that one whatever it my be."

We got to the door of Le pichet (The Pitcher). It was a quaint little restaurant not far from the Cathedral door. And we arrived there in the nick of time. The place was already full except two remaining tables, one of which were lucky enough to get.

As we popped through the door we were greeted by - none other than - Henry the 8th, which is interesting because he isn’t even a French figure. But hey, we have similar theme restaurants in the US, and he wasn’t American either.

We spied the empty tables and I was personally lead arm in arm to the best of the two remaining spots. Henry urged us to consider the Sunday special which was Poulet au pot. It came with a unique soup that readied the palate for the Chicken experience that would follow.

Restaurateurs always want you to pick their special, because they made a crap load of it and it is ready to go, good or bad. While were trying to decide, the food arrived at the table tout à côté and I peaked over the client’s shoulder to see what he had chosen.

Pardon Monsieur, mais qu’est-ce que vous avez choisi?
Madame, c’est le Poulet au Pot, La Spécialité de la maison.




It looks superb. It had leeks, potato rounds, mystery meat and a large carrot traversing each plate.


Ted and I each ordered Le Menu. First came the garlic pesto soup. It was very hot (temperature) and very potent. There would be no vampires bothering us today. Probably no one (with or without fangs) were going to get too "Klohs".


We had barely gotten our gullets saturated when the Poulet au pot showed up. It was all quite fine. It wouldn’t have been the same without the carrot.

Then the neighbors teased us with their next arrival – the dessert. It had mounds of chocolate , little white cakettes, some fresh red fruits, and a blob of ice cream.

Et cela, Monsieur?

Oui, C’est la Gourmande ( The piggy eater’s dessert).

We couldn’t resist it and the name fit us so well- what could we do but order it too? We each had one and along with un pichet d’eau and un pichet de vin, we had a meal to remember, one fit for a King or a Queen – or both.






We could hardly move, but managed to visit the cathedrale and the town square before rushing back to the car to try to make it to one or two Chateaux before the sun set.


We tried to pick from all the magnificent chateaux that called to us” Chenonceau with the queen’s geometric and mistress’ wild gardens and gruesome tails of murder and debauchery.



We could have chosen Chambord which, like Chartres is so majestic as it is separated from other buildings and has an approach that makes one feel like royalty. From that approach you can stop and put your hand up, with your palm down resting just under your eyes. In so doing you cut off visually the bottom of the Chateaux. What emerges is amazing.

The roof alone looks like a set of buildings, like a small city on top of the chateau. When you remove your hand, the roof blends in to the entire structure, with the roof “city” disappearing. There are literally hundreds of chateaux to pick from each one having unique features that make it unforgettable, and beckon your return.

I talked Ted into Amboise.



It is not only magnifique by itself but has another attraction that entices me more than the others. It has the tomb of Leonardo (not Dicaprio) DaVinci.


I have been smitten by DaVinci since I first met him. There has been no one before or since that I feel deserves more respect or emulation than Leonardo DaVinci.

He is the quintessential representative of the Renaissance – and Renaissance Thinking, painting, sculpture, architecture, research on the human body and its insides, biology, chemistry, physics, mathematics. He had an extraordinary creative spirit that called him to conceive of airplanes, tanks, and many other machines before the materials necessary to construct them had even been imagined.

Leonardo’s crypt is in a separate building – a mini chapel outside the Chateau d’Amboise Le Clos Lucé. His remains are there. And it may seem irreverent, but I would love to see him disinterred (dig him up) and 1) get a DNA sample and 2) inspect his brain folds, convolutions. I suppose his brain remains would be too dried up or shriveled to compare them to Einstein’s but it would be worth a look.



(Leonardo's Knight Robot)
I want one....


I suppose by now you are wondering what my brain would look like (and if, in fact, there is one.)

It might be some time before you get the chance to see it, as I am a mere 42 à présent (give or take a couple of decades) and although my brain has obvious mystery to it i.e. how it has me see the world or the things or people that are on it, my brain would be miniscule and ordinary, unlike the world shaking composition of that of DaVinci. If I could just graft on a little slice of his triune brain….. (Okay, I would settle for a just a piece of his neocortex.)


It was good to see Leonardo again.