A Three-Hour Tour?!

We should have known better when we heard the words "a three hour tour." They didn't bode well for Gilligan and crew, and they didn't bode well for us.

Traffic from returning French vacationers hit heavy, and our return trip from the Loire Valley took us a whopping six hours. To make matters more complicated, our bus driver was required to stop the bus after driving for four and a half hours, so we had to stop at a very seedy gas station for 30 minutes. On the bright side, we saw some nice sights in the French countryside when we toured the Loire Valley. We started with Notre Dame de Chartres, a beautiful Gothic cathedral with unique blue-tinted stained glass. On this rainy, grey day, the spires of the bell towers disappeared into the misty clouds, and just as we approached the church, the bells began to ring. Inside, mass had just started, and we got to witness a Catholic mass conducted in the traditional Latin. Of courses Chartres reminded me of Notre Dame de Paris in many ways, but it is different. Smaller, and much less crowded. Talking with my roommates later, we agreed that we appreciated the smaller crowds we encountered on today's excursions--something that stood in sharp contrast with the swarms of people at Versailles, for example.

The Chateau Chenenceau was a modest Gothic castle. Again, I enjoyed the exterior more than the interior of the castle. Seeing the structure from the outside, complete with gargoyles and moats and turrets, it is so obvious that you are viewing a castle. Once inside, the lavish rooms sometimes feel more like museum installations than rooms within a castle setting.

A most memorable moment of the day occurred, as they tend to, during dinner. I tried my first escargots, along with Lexi, Jess, and Catie. The verdict? Not too bad. In fact, they were pretty good, they were even seasoned with a kind of pesto sauce. Mrs. McGovern, who sometimes seems to have more energy than I do, surprised us all and treated the six of us to dinner.

For dessert, we took to the street in search of a creperie and ice cream stand. We're know that the best crepes come, not from a restaurant, but from the street. I finally got to satisfy my craving for a chocolate crepe, although it wasn't quite as delicious as I remembered. Perhaps it was that particular crepe, or perhaps I built up my memory in the time since my last visit to Paris, so now I will have to try again. I'm up for the challenge. :) From Paris/Loire Valley, Stephanie Ebeling