October 6, 2012

A WALK WITH VAN GOGH

We got an earlier start today, and even though Auvers-sur-Oise was closer than Giverny, hardly anyone was there on this Saturday morning.  It was a bit drizzly but did not affect our visit. There are few signs to help direct us, but after having a coffee on the main little street, we were able to buy our tickets to visit Auberge Ravoux, which is a museum above what is now a restaurant. It was here that Vincent VanGogh died after shooting himself in the chest two days earlier on July 29, 1890 (more about this later). We tromped up a staircase with a young man from the book shop to one of the two rooms upstairs and found ourselves in the smaller one where there was a reproduction of the only chair that was there at the time, after which we went into the larger room where we watched a short film about him.

Auvers was already a favorite destination of eighteenth century landscape painters before VanGogh arrived; all of this because the train allowed them to get out into the countryside.

Van Gogh had no money and rented this room for the price of six francs while under the care of his close friend, Dr. Gachet, who was homeopathic doctor to the artists in the area.  VanGogh only lived in Auvers-sur-Oise for 70 days during which time he produced 80 of his paintings.  We then went to see Auvers Church, the church made famous in his painting. We went inside and walked around and then headed to the back of the property, where there was a poster with the church; it was interesting to compare the two. There was only one other person in sight.

We were headed back down the hill when I saw a directional sign to VanGogh's grave; I told Judy and Ron that we must walk up that hill.  Ron agreed to tromp up the hill with me and I thought it would be enormous tomb but the grave plot was small.  Vincent's beloved brother, Theo, was buried next to him (Theo died only a year later). There were wreaths of flower laid over the grave.

We were starving by this time, and found a little out-of-the-way restaurant, Le Chemin des Peintres. No one there (it was 1 p.m.) when we arrived, and  we had a delightful lunch and a great conversation with the owner, who is very involved in an organization focused on organic produce. If we had come the day before, there would have been a train ride with an organic picnic lunch, just one of the events about which we learned.


It was raining by then, and we came upon the Absinthe Museum and learned about the poets' elixir, known as "the green peril" (absinthe was outlawed in 1915).
   
 We walked up the hill to the Chateau d'Auvers, which offered a self-guided 90 minute tour, each topic presented in a separate room; it all led up to the movement of the painters to the countryside, this being made possible by train travel. The Impressionists found their niche with the open air, fields and countryside becoming available as subjects.

                                             The Church at Auvers

We ended our afternoon at the Chateau d'Auvers with a film about all the French impressionists (in French) which was quite nice.  Charles Daubigny was mentor to man of the younger painters like Renoir, Monet and Cezanne, who together with VanGogh, visited him. Daubigny's painting are in the Daubigny Museum, which we did not get a chance to visit.

In one of the shops we visited later, I found a book about VanGogh's supposed suicide and the shop clerk and I had a long conversation. I learned that the gun was never found but that several years ago someone found a gun in that field that was dated back to that time period (the book I found was about that). I had read somewhere that there is a theory that VanGogh did not commit suicide, and when I asked her about that, she told me that a book had come out about that subject.  The always-believed story is that he went to pick up the gun to shoot himself again and could not find it, so somehow got back to his room where he later died.

I thought about this, because if he could not find the gun that he had just dropped, how was he able to make it a mile back to his room and go up all of those steps?  When I asked her about the book, she said she thought it was "A Life" and I knew which book she meant. She remarked that it was "an American thing." The book theorizes that he was shot by a local boy with whom he had spent a lot of time at a local villa and with whom he had a complex relationship, including the boy buying him drinks and teasing him. The authors believe that VanGogh did not implicate the boy afterwards because VanGogh welcomed death and because he did not want the boy to be punished.

This evening it did not take us long to get back to Vaujours, and we enjoyed a snack and conversation. Another great day!

October 5, 2012

MONET'S GARDENS OF GIVERNY -

            ANOTHER ALMOST TO PERFECT DAY

After viewing the weather forecast, we opted to go to Giverny today to possibly avoid any weekend crowds. It was a good drive, about and hour and a half, but we arrived in bright sunshine and anticipation. There were people there, of course, but it was not crowded--we were surprised as the day was gorgeous. The profusion of color is much as it was in Monet's lifetime.

 

 

  Claude Monet moved with his family to this house, remaining until his death in 1926. Giverny became his life's work and it was here that he created the motifs that transposed the water lilies, boats and bridges of the gardens onto his canvases. When the family first moved here, the garden was an orchard of about 2 acres enclosed within high walls.  Later Monet bought the land on the other side of the railroad tracks and prevailed against opposition to create his project of exotic gardens with bamboo plants, wisteria, willows and of course the famous water lilies.  The pond was created by diverting the Epte River, and looks today much as it did in his lifetime. A local crafts person built the graceful Japanese bridge, and a wooden boat still floats at one end of the pond.                    

 

 The maison has been kept much the same as it was - Monet loved Japanese engravings, and his precious collection, which is displayed in several of the rooms, inspired the design of the water garden. Reproductions of the art that he loved hang on the walls to recreate the interior in Monet's time. The entrance to the house is through his studio, constructed to give him the room and light he needed to paint the giant "Waterlilies" which I previously blogged about and which today are in l'Orangerie in Paris. After his death, the house was badly neglected, but in 1966 his son donated Giverny to the Academie des Beaux-Arts--the floors and ceiling beams had rotted away, and a staircase had collapsed. The restoration project of the house and the gardens took ten years.

 Every year half a million people visit Giverny. This is definitely on the list of places I wish to return someday. But for now, I have my memories and my pictures = and some bookmarks!

We left this wonderful place right about 5:00 and soon found ourselves in a massive traffic jam (Friday night in Paris).  Ron was wonderful in the way he zipped along, weaving our way slowly back to Vaujours. We were amazed at all of the motorcyclists weaving in and out of traffic and remarked how dangerous this mode of transportation is, and the fact that most of the cyclists (some in groups) had no concern to any danger they posed to motorists.  Ron is a great driver!

October 4, 2012

C H A N T I L LY

I had heard about Chantilly from someone here in Vaujours who had recently been there for a picnic, so when Ron and Judy Taylor arrived Thursday for their long weekend visit (via Hong Kong) and we wanted to do something mid-afternoon, I suggested Chantilly.

Chateau de Chantilly & Forest ,owned by the Institute of France,  is set in the middle of a romantic moat in the heart of the forest. One of the most beautiful chateux around Paris, Le Grand Chateau was destroyed during the French Revolution but has been re-created and is now home to the Conde Museum, a fabulous art collection, and the Horse Museum and Great Stables (circa 1719). The Horse Museum is housed in a monumental stone building that at its height housed 240 horses and 300 hounds.  Dressage demonstrations are open to the public, and Chantilly is the site of one of France's major horse racing tracks.  Le Petit Chateau was built around 1560 for Anne de Montmorency. 

We only had a few hours to see the grounds and, unfortunately did not have time to see the Horse Museum or the Dressage (on my list for next time), nor did we get into the museum. It was enough for us just to drink in the sights before our eyes and imagine what it must have been liked to be either the owner of the chateau, preparing for a hunt with the foxes and hounds, or unluckier to be one of the servants which the chateau must have required just to keep running smoothly.  The day was cloudy, but the sun occasionally peeked out, and it was not a very long drive from Vaujours.

We enjoyed the grounds and the chateau enormously, and it was a great way for them to start their visit.

 Anne de Montmorency, soldier, statesman and for decades, an influential member of the French court, especially that of Francis I, was born in Chantilly in 1483. The Montmorency family acquired Chantilly in 1450 through marriage and built the chateau that stands today, one of the most celebrated domains in France.

We were not disappointed!

October 7, 2012

A WARM AUTUMN AFTERNOON IN PARIS

In the Tuilleries

The day was gorgeous. The chestnut trees had just begun to turn. The air had a hint of fall but was not at all cold. I had planned to visit a few museums, but when I realized it was probably one of the most fabulous days I'd experience here, I nixed that idea, and decided to go for a stroll wherever my feet wanted to go, so that is how I spent the afternoon, mindless and dreamy.

Place de la Concorde

 

I walked to the local bus to catch the train (as our nearby bus to the metro does not operate on Sundays) and transferred to the gold metro line for two stops, exiting at Invalides.  I had passed it so many times and wanted to know more about it.  The Musee de L'Armee is both a museum and a monument, and the place looked pretty interesting, but when the information agent told me one should allow three hours for a visit to make it worth the admission fee, I decided to leave that for a rainy day.  I'm not that interested in wars, swords and guns, and Napoleon's tomb will still be there next time. It looks pretty amazing from the brochure; Napoleon's remains were returned in 1840 to France and a tomb erected under the Dome of l'hotel Invalides.  I did take time to walk through the main courtyard, where 60 French classical bronze cannons, 200 years of the French artillery, are displayed for visitors to delve more into this aspect of French history.

Les Invalides

under Pont Alexandre III

Winston Churchill: We will never give up

After visiting the American Church, I crossed to the Left Bank on Pont Alexandre III, which never ceases to amaze me  (I studied the details underneath the bridge this time). I had not yet walked through the Place de la Concorde, so started my longer walk there, winding my way to the Tuilleries, my mind's destination, although I didn't know it yet. Imagine my surprise when I came upon my favorite restaurant so far, Le Renard--what a coincidence!  It was busy at 4:00 as everyone was outside enjoying the day. My waiter found a little table for me that was perfect and where I could watch everything going on in the park while enjoying lunch. Beginning to enjoy my salade and le vin, I was joined by a determined wasp (I think he wanted the pineapple dressing).  I'm still recuperating from the one that stung me in Ballymoney, so I became just as determined and finally got rid of him.  You may enjoy the pics of the cafe and of my lunch, which was La Salade Brasilliene-

 

 I made lunch last as long as possible before continuing my walk toward Notre Dame, as I planned to take the train from St. Michel-N.D. station (this area has been the beginning of many of my walks on both the Left and Right Banks). Ending at the back of the Louvre, I proceeded to walk along the river to the Pont des Artes, which I love with all of the padlocks of various lovers with names included (I wonder how many are still together).   And I was in luck, as the little man at the stand with the citron sorbet was there; I could not disappoint him, could I?

The walk by the Seine was absolutely scrumptious (like the citron sorbet) and my train came just as I arrived at the RER stop. That was the end of the transportation luck, as when I arrived at my local station, I had just missed the bus. What's another mile and a half? The whole day was a great walk and I enjoyed every minute.

behind the Louvre

October 3, 2012

ENJOY THE RAINBOWS!

ALL THE PICTURES ARE NOW IN THE BLOG FOR THE IRELAND TRIP

I have to admit it wasn't my photography skills but I am happy with the photos

 

 I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT I DID ALL OF THAT!
I will be caught up quite soon I hope as there will be 2 1/2 more weeks of adventures to post
Will spend my birthday at Versailles

Enjoy all the rainbows!

September 26, 2012

LAST DAY IN IRELAND

Today I would spend part of the day at PRONI, the Public Records Office for Northern Ireland.

But ... as we finished breakfast, I decided to call the phone number from Friar's Bush. I spoke to a receptionist and told her of my interest and she subsequently forwarded my call to someone on the Belfast City Council.  I told that person that I was a writer from Colorado and would only be in town that day and that I was curious about the cemetery and its history. I was surprised when she asked if I could meet someone there at 3:00. Wow!

I spent the morning at PRONI. The building is very tight and secure and I had to produce my passport and put all of my stuff except my notebook and pencil in a locked locker, even my jacket. Proceeding to the second floor records room, it was a little audacious. PRONI contains many church records (some of which are online) but the official births, deaths, etc. record is in another building in Belfast.  My problem is in going back to the mid and late 1700's is that many records were lost or destroyed (why hang onto them, right?); also, many citizens could not write and thus signed their name with an x.

I started by search through the manual listing all of the Presbyterian churches in Ireland for which there are records.  I had the names of Rev. Martin's parishes (leader of the 5 ships) and also some additional nearby parishes, so I started with that. After you find what you are looking for in the book, you go to a computer and put in a search for that record (a names search for James Kirk did some names but I don't think it was the right area). The record has a title and you then fill out a paper requesting access to that record.  I asked for the record for Kilraughts  (which was one of the parishes), knowing that the records only began about 1811, but hoping to find a trace of the fourth brother. I then had to go to another room where I was given a table # where I had to sit and then went to the desk where I was handed a very old fragile book with information written in for this church in old handwriting (very small) - additionally, there was a packet with photocopies of the same records.  This was very difficult; finally, the assistant brought me a magnifying glass. I spent a lot of time on this and found nothing productive, and back to the reading room again, where I looked at some other records on microfilm.

The day had actually turned nice and very sunny. After lunch at the PRONI cafeteria, I took a city bus to the city centre in order to make my way back to the University area. In a conversation with a young woman on the bus, she told me that she was walking to the University and would be happy to walk with  me. Katrina (don't you love her name?) and I had a lovely walk and the day had turned quite warm.

I arrived at the cemetery at exactly 3 p.m. where another couple and an employee of the City Council were waiting.   We had a fabulous tour. Friar's Bush is Belfast's oldest Christian burial ground (Catholic). It derives its name from the old hawthorn tree (the trysting thorn) in the center of the site, where Catholics, to escape detection, gathered in secret to celebrate mass.

The story goes that the priest would row up the Lagan River to a fording point and enter the property from the rear. Folklore tells that he was killed by the militia from the front of the property as he finished mass. 

In penal times, as peasants tell,
A friar came with book and bell,
To chant his mass each Sabbath morn
Beneath Strath-mills' trysting thorn.

The oldest grave known dates back to 1717, that of Thomas Gibson. However,beside the hawthorn tree is a circular stone (not a grave marker) with three crudely cut crosses and a hollow near the top. This stone may have been used by friars celebrating mass, and many researchers believe it may date to be 1500's or before.

Archaelogy students from the University are currently using carbon dating to determine if in fact this area is the site of an ancient burial ground possibly as old as the site in Newgrange. It may be some time before their findings are published.

Our leader pointed out the most notable graves, and we learned about many famous people buried here. Beginning in 1845, potato crops began to fail and as a result of blight, half a million people were evicted from their homes. All over Ireland crowds of starving mobs were attacking food stores. Huge quantities of food were exported from Ireland to England; ship after ship laden with wheat, oats, cattle, pigs, eggs and butter sailed away from a country on the verge of starvation. The Irish were told to solve their own food problems.

In 1847 it got worse. An outbreak of Typhus ravaged the area, and in Belfast, which was overcrowded from rural areas coming in to find work, 8,000 people died. The wagons went through Belfast daily and scooped the dead from the streets, piling them in a heap in the rear of the cemetery to be cremated. One and one half million emigrated to America.

Our last stop was to see the plaque dedicated to the large mound containing the remains of 800 souls who succumbed to cholera and typhus. Most of these souls were cremated in the far corner of the graveyard and their ashes buried. This area is known as Plaguey Hill (some reports indicate that in fact 3,000 are buried in this small area).   It was a bit disconcerting to be walking among these "souls" but I learned a lot and have four pages of typed notes given to me by our guide.

Ownership of the cemetery was handed over to the Belfast City Council after being in the ownership of the Catholic Church for 173 years.

Now back to my temporary ATC home to pack for the return to France. Culture shock again?