The Party Had Been a Roaring Success

The guests had trickled in at first
but by ten o'clock the place was swinging
The hors d'oeuvres were nearly gone by eleven
but the band was in sync playing everything from
Glen Miller to Brian Setzer to Candy Duffer
And the drink was still flowing.
Everyone had taken off their shoes by eleven thirty
and most were still dancing, cocktail in hand
My husband danced off, a martini with olives sloshing as
he bumped into Margaret, excused himself and then grabbed
the paper crown from her head.
He swirled, sashayed, as the band swung to Pennsylvania 6-5000
then he careened across the floor, somehow retaining hold of his glass
I lost track of him as the crowd Charleston'd and swung around the room
When the Glen Miller tune was done, a moment of silence then
The band leader stepped up to the microphone.  “Ladies and Gentlemen, Hers and His, Theirs and Those,” he said. “Are you ready for the countdown?”
I looked around. Gregory and Margaret careened passed in each other's arms
Joel and Carl still swayed together under the sparkling disco ball to some tune only theirs
Linda and Marty half stood, half lay on a table near the band
lips already pressed together
Where was Ned? I looked in the direction I had last seen him.
“Ten!” yelled the bandleader.
 Bodies, mostly upright,
moving as if on an unsteady sea obscured all other objects.
“Nine!”
I ducked around other couples and stepped daintily over discarded jackets and boas
“Eight!”
There, against the wall and lounging on a period fainting couch that our hosts got
for a steal at an estate sale, I found him
“Seven!”
His eyes closed, the stolen crown perched on his head,
 and a now empty martini glass in hand.
“Six!”
“darling?”
“Five!”
His eyes popped open. “yes, moo-moo?”
“Four!”
“What happened?”
“I over estimated my ability to remain upright, he said.
“Three!”
I sat down beside him and leaned in.
“Typical,” I said.
He nodded. “yes,” he said.
“Two!”
“Good thing that is not a requirement,” I said
“One! Goodbye 2017!”
Then, dear reader, the ball dropped.
and I kissed him, full on his olive-soaked lips.

Space

Walking in the park
my back to the mountains
the branches of a tree tug at my jacket
Telling me I'm snug in
A paddock where I can let out my feelings
one by one
and let them frolic and wail
my ideas flow, familiar and close
In the creek at my feet
Jays signal their disdain for red-tails
And squirrels chit from some branch
over my head
But they don't judge
the process of creation

Here, there is both sun and shade
today the morning is cool
and I pick sun
The water runs along one edge
And opposite,
a barn, a gazebo, a playground, a roller hockey rink
All quiet
I look down at my feet and find myself
not losing my way
When I look up
a  dog walker appears in the distance
Children on swings
stick to their arc in the air
Moms are too busy with their orbit
All seem to collude in my ramble

If I turn west toward the Rockies—
There lies majesty and breadth
this is the open space
flat like a green and brown sea leading up to ravaged cliffs
with only buoys of thistle to break the line
until the hard stop of lime- and sand-stone
This is recreation
Exposed to the elements:
walkers, joggers, cyclists, skateboarders,
Frisbee golfers, dog walkers, child walkers,
cricket players
Here we work out
this is breathing out out out
pushing your heart until it bursts
not listening to its quiet murmurings.
The distant mountains
a goal
a mark of an end point
yet of a beginning
Calling out,
“Just wait until you get to our stone foot
then you will know true noble human endeavor
real outdoor rigor!”
Everyone wondering, Who is more worthy?

And the lake is a horizontal mirror
reflecting open sky
it is endless and—
too late—
I've put myself out there
I am exposed
The high school across from the water
bursts over a rousing game of baseball
prairie dogs dart across the pavement
from one hole to another—
The ground beneath my feet
is all on edge—
A busy street ahead makes way for brazen cars and trucks
Apartments open to let out folks to work, to
play
Kids meander to school,
their parents in tow.
Yes I am exposed,
And I'll face the west again
You can look for me
Out in the open
For here the wind blows
And chaps the skin
and the irritation of rough use
leads to toughness
and acting
out.

But these days please don't look for me
near the running of a creek,
it's water capturing the air in small musical leaps,
nor in the embrace of willows
that blur the edges
and bid me rest easy
in my mind.
For here lies
the selfish center of inspiration.

Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: The Chateau d'Angers and the Apocalypse Tapestry

Wednesday, June 16, 2011

(Continued from previous blog entry, "Angers Cheer, Foreign Language Laundry, and Still Bugged.")

Once I decided to delay more research into locating an ophthalmologist until after some sightseeing, I returned to the Promenade du Bout du Monde and arrived at the Chateau late morning. Standing across the draw bridge on the other side of the dry moat from the fortress, I was struck by how imposing it was. People walked along the sidewalks as if there was nothing important here and as though they did not realize they were dwarfed by an immense structure. But the chateau was also beautiful with its pepper pot towers in dark slate and limestone and its dry moat now filled with gardens. The well-manicured shrubbery and the red and white clay paths that surrounded them were bright contrasts to the dark medieval walls. It was like nothing I had seen before.

The Tour de Moulin, or Mill Tower, facing the Maine River on the northwest corner of the Chateau d'Angers It is the only tower that remains at 140 feet. By Mith (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

The Chateau d'Angers was built in the 9th century and added onto in the 13th century by the counts of Anjou. These counts were descended from Carolingian rulers. (Under the Carolingians, Angers had became the capital of the province of Anjou.)  The chateau was both a private residence and a fortified castle. In the 16th Century, its “pepper pot” towers were cut down from 140 feet to about 65 feet. Some historical sources say the towers were shortened to make use of the newly introduced artillery piece, the cannon. I assume that means that the artillery were placed on the top of the towers at the lower height, which gave those defending the castle a better angle at which to mow down armies attacking it. Travel France Online supports this idea. According to their website, the towers were lowered during the Wars of Religion in order to provide a better view for the defendants.  Most references agree that Henry III of France used the materials from the shortened towers to build streets and buildings in Angers. The Tour du Moulin (Mill Tower) is the only tower which remains at the original elevation. It used to house a windmill, which is probably why it was left at full height.

Today the chateau houses the Apocalypse Tapestry commissioned by Louis I of Anjou in the 14th century. The tapestry was one of things that drew me to the site, but not the driving force for my visit. I was most interested in its connections to Eleanor of Aquitaine through her second husband, Henry Plantagenet, who, with Eleanor, began the Angevin Dynasty.

The French Broom (Genista monspessulana) shrub found in Oakland, California. In France, it is known as the planta genista. By Calibas (Own work) [GFDL or CC BY-SA 4.0-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0], via Wikimedia Commons.

Before he became Henry II of England and husband to Eleanor, Henry Plantagenet was Count of Anjou. The title of count passed to him in 1152 when his father, Geoffrey Plantagenet, died. The Plantagenets came from a long line of Anjou counts descending from the female side of the Carolingian line when the male line ended with no heir. Geoffrey Plantagenet was the fifth generation of this line, and may have obtained the nickname “plantagenet” because of his habit of wearing a sprig of the broom shrub (in France known as the planta genista) in his hat. Encyclopedia Britannica believes that the reference to the broom plant was more likely because of Geoffrey's habit of planting brooms to improve his hunting covers. (Incidentally, they also say that the "Plantagenet" tag was never a surname in the Angevin dynasty, and that none of his descendants used that name until about 250 years after his death. Even the term "Angevin" was added later. However, because the tag is so popular among history texts, for the purposes of this blog I will continue to refer to Henry II of England as Henry Plantagenet.)

Henry was born in Le Mans but probably lived with his mother Matilda of Normandy until the age of seven when he moved to Anjou for his early education. He was then sent to England to be further educated and to help boost his mother's claim to the throne of England through her father, Henry I. Henry finished his education back in Anjou, but returned to England with mercenaries when he was fourteen. Henry led two unsuccessful forays into England to try to reclaim the crown, and returned to Anjou in 1149. He was named Duke of Normandy shortly thereafter and then Count of Anjou. As Count of Anjou, Henry went on to rule England and an empire that stretched from the Pyrenees to Ireland. The seat of Henry's court and his empire was the Chateau d'Angers.

Chateau d'Angers plan. Key: A: gate to the medieval town; B: south gate; C: Mill Tower; D: royal lodgings; E: chatelet (a type of gatehouse); F: gallery of the Apocalypse Tapestry; G: great hall; H: chapel; I: governor's lodgings; J: inner court; K: gardens; L: terraced gardens. By Cyril5555 (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Although Angevin rule continued in England, the Plantagenet Angevin empire disappeared from France in the early 13th century when Philip II (son of Eleanor's first husband, Louis VII) seized Normandy and Anjou. At this point, Anjou became a dukedom and part of the Kingdom of France. It was considered the “Key to the Kingdom” because it bordered Brittany, which was still independent. For this reason, the Chateau was reinforced in 1228 by Blanche of Castile, queen regent to her son Louis IX, "the Saint." That's when those high walls and pepper pot towers appeared.

Draw bridge entrance to the Chateau d'Angers.

I took a deep breath and crossed the moat via the 14th-century drawbridge and entered the chateau. Several towers stood on either side of me along the great, thick wall of the fortress. Through the gate and into the courtyard were gardens expanding south and east along the interior walls. Most of the chateau buildings had been destroyed in WWII by US bombs and the French people's response was to plant gardens: Upper gardens, lower gardens, and an herb garden covering the earthworks along the ramparts. To my right was the museum. It contains the 15th-century chapel of John the Baptist, the royal lodge or residence (Logis Royal), and the 1954 wing of the museum, which now houses The Apocalypse Tapestries. Recently discovered under the chateau are ruins of a roman bath that were used in the time of the dukes as well. Next to those ruins is a neolithic burial mound discovered when the tapestry wing was added.

Vivid colors on the stone walls of the chapel at the Chateau d'Angers, the remains of paintings of Jesus, Mary, angels, and various other holy figures.

I explored the chapel first. I was amazed at the colors still evident along the walls and ceilings of this 700-year-old building. Most vivid were the paintings remaining where sculptures were removed when it became a prison during the Hundred Years War. The chapel is considered a sainte chapelle because it enshrined a holy relic: a splinter of the fragment of the True Cross which had been acquired by Louis IX.

The Duke's "mini" chapel inside the larger church at the Chateau d'Angers.

The dukes of Anjou had their own entrance to the church through a mini-chapel in an alcove to the side of the nave. This church and residence were built much after Henry Plantagenet was long dead. During Henry's time, the rulers of Anjou were Counts. After successive counts lost and regained land, the kingdom of France took over the region. The lords of Anjou were by then mostly related to the king. They swore allegiance to the crown and took the title of duke. In this way they retained the king's support. My impression is that the dukes were much more snooty than the counts. (Could it be that they were all directly in line to the throne of France?) They wished to make a clear delineation between themselves and the peasants with their separate chapel. No mixing with the commoners here!

The Apocalypse Tapestry is housed in the 1954 wing of the museum inside the chateau walls. The tapestry was commissioned by Duke Louis I of Anjou in the 14th c. based on Revelations. Some violent gory stuff in here...

The royal residence was being worked on, so I went on to the modern wing and to the Apocalypse Tapestry. The wing was built in 1954 on the site of the kitchen, staff quarters, Chapel of St. Laud (the first chapel), and various outbuildings--all built in the 11th through 12th centuries.

I have to give it to the town of Angers: Their presentation of the tapestry was breathtaking. I felt the same way about the Bayeux Tapestry in Normandy. The town had placed the oldest French tapestry to have survived into modern day, complete with fraying edges and pieces missing, under undulating glowing glass in a deeply dark passageway. I got the impression of waves; of an unfolding story told in ripples of lines. And the images were breathtaking. I was not familiar with the Apocalypse manuscript, but the images showed clear destruction: angels and demons breaking through into the world, and anguished leaders and common folk falling...

The tapestry was commissioned by Louis I, Duke of Anjou, and was completed in 1382 after 5-7 years of work. That is very fast for the technology of the 14th century. It is made entirely of wool, is 328 feet (100 meters) long, and is almost 15 feet (4.5 meters) high. The tapestry was lost and mistreated in the late 18th century, but was recovered and restored in the 19th century. Most of it is now hanging in this beautiful and modern hall.

The tapestry was cartooned or modeled by the artist Jean de Bruges (aka Jean Bondol) who probably was inspired by illuminated manuscripts about the Apocalypse. It was then woven by Nicholas Bataille, a successful French tapestry-weaver and dealer. Apparently, this was unusual: a tapestry was typically commissioned by a buyer without a specific design.

The tapestry depicts the story of the Apocalypse from the Book of Revelation by Saint John the Divine, a text from the 1st century CE. But the artist was heavily influenced by the politics of the day. The tapestry was produced in the middle of the Hundred Years War, a series of battles between the Catholics and Huguenots which raged from 1337 to 1453. It illustrates aspects of war: pillages, plague, and famine. Death and dying was all around. The idea originally may have been to hang the tapestry outside on wooden supports so that an audience could enjoy it while sitting in a central viewing stand as if at a jousting contest.  The Apocalypse was a popular story in the 14th century, likened to ancient Frankish heroic tales. The display of the tapestry would have helped to bolster the status of  Louis's dynasty, which was involved in the war with England. However, historians are unsure how Louis originally displayed the tapestry. His progenitor, Rene' of Anjou, gave the tapestry to the Cathedral of Anjou in 1488, and that is where it remained for a time, perhaps until the French Revolution.

(Etymology note: In researching the tapestry, I was surprised to come across the word cartoon/cartooned meaning "model/modeled." Turns out this definition of the word is pretty old and pretty common even today. Merriam Webster defines cartoon in this sense as "a preparatory design, drawing, or painting (as for a fresco)."  The word cartoon comes from the Italian cartone or "pasteboard, which modified the word carta or "card."  12th-century French folk would have not used the word cartoon or the corresponding French word carton. That language came much later. But since the 17th century, cartoons were considered temporary drawings that were used as a rough draft of a painting or sculpture or other final work to come. Now, of course, "cartoon" has taken on additional meanings such as "drawings intended as satire, caricature, or humor"; animated shows; or "a ludicrously simplistic, unrealistic, or one-dimensional portrayal or version.")

The entrance to the museum gift shop and to the remains of the Roman baths seen from the formal gardens that grace the courtyard in front of the 12th century castle wall. The southeast end of the Apocalypse Tapestry hall is at the top right.

After studying the tapestry, I walked underneath the royal residence passing the neolithic burial mound as I entered the museum gift shop. Peering down a rugged stair, I caught sight of the roman baths. You can still see the pipes that were used to heat the rooms coming up from the floor. I wondered how often medieval royalty actually made use of these roman water structures. The remains of these structures are everywhere in Europe--wherever Romans went. This leads me to believe that some medieval people were cleaner than the stereotypical medieval slob that has such hold in our modern imaginations.

Looking through the gardens atop the earthworks toward the opposite castle wall.

I walked through the gardens. There were three: First, the hanging gardens, which were full of herbs and included flowers that were represented on the Apocalypse Tapestry; next, the gardens in front of the 12th-century castle wall and surrounded by the royal residence and roman baths; and, finally, the large formal garden on the southeast side of the enclosure. I hiked along the ramparts and took several pictures.

The manicured gardens in front of the original 12th-century wall of the Chateau d'Angers. These gardens are enclosed on the opposite corner by the new Apocalypse Tapestry wing. You can just see one wall of that wing coming in to meet the old wall at the top left of the photo.

I walked through the field entrance on the south side with its portcullis on the outside wall. This was the original entrance way. Just inside this entrance are models of the chateau at various stages of its development. I did not linger here, but now wish I had.

The portcullis at the field entrance on the south side of the Chateau d'Angers. This was the original entrance way. Notice the barbed wire over the bottom of the portcullis. It certainly won't keep rabbits or weasels out!

It struck me as I walked through the chateau interior that most of what I saw had not existed in the time of Eleanor of Aquitaine and Henry II. Now I understand that almost a century had rolled by between 1152 when Henry became Count of Anjou and resided in the old palace and 1230 when Blanche of Castile, mother of the future Louis IX (The Saint) built the fortress around the original chateau, compete with 140-foot tall towers. Another 100 years later, Count Louis of Anjou commissioned the Apocalypse Tapestry. 50 years after that, the chapel and royal apartments were added. 150 years after that, Catherine de Medici restored the fortress, then her son Henry III reduced the height of the towers and added artillery. You can see representations of two thousand years of human endeavor on this site, if you look closely enough. This is a monument to a fluid history, which is still in flux as restoration to the royal apartments continues and new exhibits are added.

A spot of lunch on the front lawn of the governor's mansion inside the walls of the Chateau d'Angers.

I was now starving, Luckily, the chateau has its own cafe! Boy the French know how to do visitor centers! It was almost empty now because it was nearly mid-afternoon. I went inside and ordered a salad and a baguette, and they brought it out to me on the lawn. It was so lovely sitting there that I didn't want to leave. But I was exhausted, and I still had yet to receive a list of eye doctors in the area in case I decided I needed one. That meant I had at least one more phone call to make. Eventually I got up and made my way back to my hotel.

Journal entry with my travel insurance claim information from Travel Guard. My way of taking out insurance on my insurance. (And, yes. On the left page, apparently I needed to use the facilities once more.)

Journal Excerpt: Entry 06/15/11 (cont'd): Wednesday, June 15, 2011. Ophthalmologists. See page with train schedule―they are emailing me the list.
(From bottom of train schedule page)
Ophthalmologists: Case UA8805158
Travel Guard ph # 715-346-0835
Referrals by email

When I got back to my hotel, I made a collect call to Travel Guard Insurance using the international operator. After a bit of fiddling I got through and gave them my insurance ID. They took all of my information and said they would send me an email list of Ophthalmologists within a twenty mile radius. They gave me a case number. Cool. I was now official. The system worked, although it was limping a bit. I thanked them and hung up. After dinner at the hotel restaurant, I went back to my room and busied myself with posting photos. I was determined to explore more museums on the morrow, so went to bed and crashed hard. But not before making a mental note to check my email for Travel Guard's ophthalmology referrals the next morning.

References

Chateau d'Angers:
Chateau d'Angers website
Wikipedia entry on the chateau
Travel France Online on the chateau

Wikipedia on Geoffrey Plantagenet
Encyclopedia Britannica on Geoffrey Plantagenet

I Was on the Radio Talking about Bus Rapid Transit in Boulder County

In case you missed it: I was on local KGNU radio this morning! I was interviewed last night at the Boulder Rapid Transit (BRT) meeting conducted by the Regional Transportation District (RTD) in Longmont. (The meeting in Boulder is tonight, Thursday, 11/16!)

I'm at about 2:28 in the audio. If you want to hear the whole program, go to KGNU.

Run Carrot Run!

Run Carrot Run!
Carrot of Color!
You run through a Fall of
Kaleidoscope movement
when the wind ruffles feathers
Forest floor wood chip mustard
matted leaves and fallen limb umber
flame maple umbrella
and sloping grass emerald
The sky an arrangement of azure and cotton
The birds scrape by leaving blurs of brown and red and blue and yellow

You shake out your fronds of green
and stretch out your legs,
one orange, one red
You run through a world of pigment
Color everywhere
No where is there an absence
of saturated joy
lets celebrate!
White light is all light
Black ink is all ink
and everywhere is stained with life.

Eight-Week Europe Solo Travel 2011: Angers Cheer, Foreign Language Laundry, and Still Bugged

Tuesday through Wednesday, June 14 through June 15, 2011.

Journal Excerpt: Wednesday, June 15, 2011. Writing this date makes me think how I'd stared at it many a time while I was planning this trip and it had a different feel to it then.  It was very abstract.  It was a bright jewel in the strand of days within a week in the future: close enough to be concerned about, but not close enough to be able to put myself there―to feel like a real day instead of a fairy tale fantasy day.  Now, instead of a pearl set into a necklace that comprises a future strand, it is an afternoon, an evening, where I sit in a hotel room in Angers, France and type on my netbook after a long day of sightseeing.  Halfway through my journey.

On Tuesday the 14th, the day after my tour of Fontevraud with Mr. Pierre Romanet, I left Saumur for Angers. I was glad to get away. Saumur had turned out to be quite a challenge--although I will always cherish the day spent touring the Loire Valley with Pierre and remember fondly the kind bus driver who helped the “Anglais en la chapeau blanc” get a taxi.

I took the TGV 60137 train to the Angers St. Laud station. The journey took just over an hour, and then I had a 20-minute walk to my hotel, the Hotel Mercure Angers Centre Foch. I only got turned around once in my navigation, mistrusting my sense of direction, but was back on track and at the hotel well before lunch. I walked through a beautiful and modern city center. Angers was rebuilt after destruction by U.S. Bombs in WWII. Why did the U.S. Bomb poor Angers? It was the headquarters of a portion of the German command in France, that's why. The train station and the neighborhood around it were destroyed, but the people of Angers were grateful to be freed from the Nazis. The city certainly did a beautiful job of reconstruction by creating public spaces that I wanted to linger in and establishing multiple museums by re-purposing churches and old houses.

View of the city from the ramparts of the Chateau d'Angers.

Angers is an ancient city first mentioned by Ptolemy in 150 A.D. as Juliomagus, meaning “Julius's market” (Julius from the Latin and magus from the Celtic for market). After several other villages formed and were also named Juliomagus, the name was updated to Juliomagus Andecavorum, which means "Juliomagus of the Andecavi" for the local tribe. (Julius and Caesar were popular names throughout proto-Europe. I found references to Julius Caesar everywhere I went, most surprisingly in Zaragoza, Spain. You must wait for a future post to learn more about that.)

Eventually the city name morphed into Civitas Andecavorum, or “city of the Andecavi.” After centuries of translation, modernization, and simplification through its use by writers and speakers, it became “Andegavis” in the 9th century, then “Angiers” in the 12th century. Finally simplified to Angers. (I love etymologies, don't you?)

The city sits just south of the confluence of three rivers: the Loir, the Mayenne, and the Sarthe. This confluence results in the river Maine, which crosses Angers from the northeast to the southwest and meets the Loire south of town. Like so many ancient European towns, Angers covers the site of ancient encampments and is built on the site of an old Roman fortress. And, as in other towns, history continued to be heaped onto this pre-history in increments of hundreds of years: From ancient Celtic walls and fire pits to the occupation of castles and churches by Nazi commanders in World War II, and beyond. It is all there.

To help with imagining what a hill fort looks like: The remains of a hill fort in Gwynedd, Great Britain. Round hut bases at the SE end of the Tre'r Ceiri hill fort
cc-by-sa/2.0 - © Eric Jones - geograph.org.uk/p/690634

But to back up to what historians know of the beginnings of the city: In the 5th century BCE, the Celtic Andecavi made a home north of the Loire, which eventually grew into a hill fort. Some time later, Roman culture entered, and the hill fort became a large town with villas, baths, amphitheater, and a temple devoted to Mithra.  As Germanic tribes invaded, the people of the town had to move to high ground and build a wall. This was the highest point in the city, and is in the same location as the Chateau d'Angers is today, hanging above the river Maine.

Angers received its first Bishop in 372, the same time that Saint Martin “The Reluctant Bishop” was elected Bishop of Tours. But Anger's first abbey was not constructed until the 7th century. I imagine that in the intervening time, the city was a mix of pagans and Christians. The Merovingians, from a Frankish tribe and later a powerful dynasty, arrived and built a second abbey in the 8th century. Angers grew to be an important city, weathering the conflicts between Brittany and Normandy during the 9th century and in 870 surviving the seizure by Hastein of the Vikings who ruled most of the next three years until he was kicked out by the Carolingian emperor. There is so much history! But more about Angers later.

It had to happen some time: Stuck in a laundromat in ancient Angers.

I had a delightful lunch in the Mercure Hotel restaurant where the staff were pleasant and expedient. I was in desperate need of clean clothes and asked the server if there was a laundry service. He explained that there was a laundromat a few blocks away in downtown Angers. I was tired but determined, so I pulled my laundry together and headed back out. Once I knew I was on the right street,  I asked directions from a passerby. (It's hard to remember that I carried a “dumb phone” in those days and had no access to GPS or map data.) I located the laundromat and came face-to-face with a wall of front-loading machines that had instructions in French and coin operation. With help from a lovely lady who showed me how to use the machine (it had been 25 years since I'd used a laundromat) and helped me find the right coins, I finished my laundry in a couple hours. When I finally got back to the hotel and put away my now clean clothes, the most I could accomplish was to eat dinner and hike up to the Promenade du Bout du Monde (the “End of the World Promenade,” referring to the 14th-century Apocalypse Tapestry housed at the chateau). At the visitor's center I bought a City Visit 24-hr pass, which covers all the museums in the city at a discount, and then crossed the street to the Chateau d'Angers to take a quick peek in preparation for the full tour the next day .

A room at the Hotel Mercure in Angers. Photo from ebooker.com

After traveling, doing laundry, eating two large meals, and briefly visiting the chateau, I headed to bed. I was tired, but excited about seeing the interior of the chateau the next day. I intended to sleep in because I had the entire next day to explore. I slept well until my alarm went off at 6:30 am.

The bathroom at the Hotel Mercure in Angers. Photo from ebooker.com

At first I didn't know where the sound came from. It was a distant beeping. Eventually, I roused myself and staggered in the direction of the bathroom. The beeping got louder. It was coming from my toiletry kit. Ah! My travel alarm clock. I must have turned it on while I was rummaging around in the bag getting ready for bed the night before. I shut it off and returned to bed. As I fell back into a light sleep, I vowed that I would from now on pull out the little clock and put it on my nightstand even if I didn't intend to use it.  That way I would remember to check whether the alarm was on or not. It was good that the alarm went off that morning, though, because it reminded me that I could use it on Friday. I planned to visit two museums on Thursday, but I wanted to tour the third and final museum Friday morning before catching the train to my next stop, Le Mans.

The restaurant and breakfast room at the Hotel Mercure in Angers. Photo from ebooker.com

Journal Excerpt, Wednesday, 06/15/2011 (cont'd): Today I let myself sleep in a bit and do yoga in bed, which almost always means I drift off a bit in the beginning.  I hit the shower at 8:00am but didn't make it to breakfast until after 9 am.  The staff in general is charming here.  The young man running the dining room, was quite cheerful, helping me in my sleepy confusion about where to get coffee.

“Un cafe?” I asked after looking around and not seeing a pot.  He also hadn't been there to greet me when I came in, so I had the time to get confused.  He explained, “Find yourself a seat and I will bring it to you.”

“How simple!” I said.  

He laughed.  "Yes! How simple.”  He asked if I wanted it black and took off after I said yes.  

I'm still looking for the romantic ideal of the writer on her own, exploring the world, who meets quirky people who want to help her and she is able to hire help when the locals are too quirky.  She has support from people who adore her wherever she goes... Well, sometimes it happens: This gentlemen was very accommodating.

I was the last one eating breakfast and I didn't want to overstay my welcome.  I ate less than usual. (Admittedly, it was not just to hurry myself. I've felt like I've been gaining weight with all the cream sauces―even the yogurt is more like cream than back home, and there is no “low fat” or “non-fat” here.) I then retreated to my room. Unfortunately, the cleaning staff was in the hall and it looked like they were in my room, so I went back down stairs and sat in the lounge preparing for what I would do today.

The lounge/bar at the Hotel Mercure in Angers. Photo from ebooker.com

The young man spotted me and told me he'd be happy to fetch me anything from the breakfast kitchen. I should just ask. I thanked him, figuring I was good. I went upstairs again after about 20 minutes.  The crew was still there, but my door looked clear. “Bon jour!” I said as I walked down the hall between the cleaning people. I dodged into my room and pulled together what I needed for the day, brushed my teeth, peed, etc.  But I was worried about my left eye lid.  I had an infection there that had grown from a minor bump to a second larger bump that looked nasty. I though I should be cautious. I didn't think I needed to see a doctor. I thought the infection would heal on its own naturally as long as I kept my hands clean and didn't rub.  That's what got it going after I was attacked in my hotel room in Caen by a black fly.

My left eye is obviously infected in this selfie I took at the landromat in Angers.

He bit me both nights, and I never saw the bugger.  I didn't realize he was still there the second day, or I would have hunted him down and killed him. I had made the mistake of opening my windows near the bay the first night, and that must have been when he came in. He bit me all around the hairline above my eye on the right side that first night, and nicked me good in the thigh, too. The second night he bit me near the corner of my left eye. It itched, and I rubbed it. And I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing. I probably got some dirt in there. So, long story short, it got infected. It feels better now, but I thought it would be wise to call the insurance company and get the name of an English-speaking doctor in Angers and in Le Mans just in case things made a turn for the worst.

I grabbed my cell phone and headed back downstairs to the lounge. I saw the same young man coming out of the breakfast room, his arms full of old mats and silverware.

“Is coffee still available?”

He assured me it was. I sat down and pulled out my paperwork and phone, and he was back with a steaming cup of freshly pressed coffee. Not the dregs from the bottom of the pot of drip coffee. Bless him! I sipped the coffee as I called the 800 number I got from Joy [Ed: from Tomato Travel back in Boulder, Colorado]. The number was supposed to get me support in France. However, I got an incorrect dial message. I had dialed 00 in front of the number as it had indicated on Joy's card. Hmm. So I decided to dial 001, the country code for the U.S. instead. Nope. That didn't work, either. A message told me it was not a toll free number and I would be charged. That sucked. I was pleased with myself that I had discovered this hole in my support network before I needed it in an emergency. I had another number I could call if I couldn't use the special in-country number, but I had to get an international operator on the line first and call collect. What a pain that would be in an emergency. I finished my coffee, vowing to try the international operator later to see if I could get through. I considered it a fire drill. Insurance. Call it what you will.

I left a couple of coins in gratitude for the young man. I assumed the coffee was part of my breakfast charge. I then headed out to the Chateau of the Dukes of Anjou.

I will always remember the excellent service I received at the Mercure Hotel in Angers. Such a contrast to that which I received at the Mercure Hotel in Saumur! I felt refreshed and ready to explore the chateau.

To be continued...

References:
DK Eyewitness Travel Loire Valley, Copyright 2010, Dorling-Kindersley Limited, London, pp 72-75
Wikipedia on Angers

Still Not Fitting In

Sandwiched between the ham and the cheese
(The meat is young and supple and ingenious
well-schooled and active
Perhaps a bit full of itself
The cheese stands alone at the pinnacle of it all
Yeasty, aged and exquisite)
Where does that leave me?
The pickle? Sliding around between cheese slices?
So indefinite
God forbid, the mayo?
I say nayo!
Perhaps I'll be the slice of pickled ginger
slipped in-between the layers
A surprise sweet and sour
Independent of the pork and the dairy
No need of cousin Dill or
Colonel Mustard
Yet full of complements.

---

From our latest Poetry Jam session.