One of my favourite towns that we visited on our trip to France was Provins. It was actually a really grey and sad-looking day - it rained non-stop for about 40 minutes at one point and we had to take refuge in the tea shop of a rose garden (I know, i know, there are worse things - and it was cold. After weeks of glorious European summer sunshine where we had picnics by the Seine and chased Chateaus and the smell of flowers followed us everywhere it was almost calming to wander around with a crisp breeze and a washed out stillness and a big shawl thrown around my shoulders. Provins is a beautiful town with a lot of history about 2 hours outside of Paris. At the very top of the town is the old medieval sections, the "ancienne ville", beautiful houses with wooden fortifications, leafy archways, the empty, vaulted quiet of a Church, one spectacular fort with stairways that arched upwards and upwards until you emerged, breathless and spent at the top and you felt like God, seeing everything for miles in one endless blur of green and blue and grey. With the rain falling everywhere and this chilly mist around us it felt almost surreal. The streets were empty, and we wandered to our hearts content, stopping only for bolles of warm cider and caramel au beurre sale crepes.
Provins was touristy, yes, but not in the in-your-face way of some places in Paris, or even the beautiful Fontainebleu and Versailles. It was the kind of touristy where the hipster youths who man the desks at the attractions have to wear medieval garb (I'm talking tunic and jerkin, oh yeah) and there's a little train that goes up and down the hill, stopping at the different locations on the way. It's fun. And harmless. And all forgiven once you step into that Church with its vaulted, cavernous interior or take a detour down a little alleyway and find yourself surrounded by greenery in some forgotten field. It was charming. Not cloying and sticky and picture perfect though, the water running in the canals was stagnant and dirty and as we were leaving the large speakers that lined the streets started to play Barry Mannilow of all things, which was a little incongruous. Which is charming in its own way. They just don't make towns like this in Australia. Where houses from the 1300s still exist, vine-covered and proud, and you can get an after school job selling tickets to a set of catacombs that were built in the time of the Romans. I really loved it there.
Provins was touristy, yes, but not in the in-your-face way of some places in Paris, or even the beautiful Fontainebleu and Versailles. It was the kind of touristy where the hipster youths who man the desks at the attractions have to wear medieval garb (I'm talking tunic and jerkin, oh yeah) and there's a little train that goes up and down the hill, stopping at the different locations on the way. It's fun. And harmless. And all forgiven once you step into that Church with its vaulted, cavernous interior or take a detour down a little alleyway and find yourself surrounded by greenery in some forgotten field. It was charming. Not cloying and sticky and picture perfect though, the water running in the canals was stagnant and dirty and as we were leaving the large speakers that lined the streets started to play Barry Mannilow of all things, which was a little incongruous. Which is charming in its own way. They just don't make towns like this in Australia. Where houses from the 1300s still exist, vine-covered and proud, and you can get an after school job selling tickets to a set of catacombs that were built in the time of the Romans. I really loved it there.
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PS. Don't forget about my Shopbop Giveaway! You've still got one day to enter, I'll be closing the giveaway at 10PM (Sydney Time) on Wednesday and drawing the winner then. Good luck!
PS. Don't forget about my Shopbop Giveaway! You've still got one day to enter, I'll be closing the giveaway at 10PM (Sydney Time) on Wednesday and drawing the winner then. Good luck!
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