Just after Bastille Day, Dennis contracted an ancient and embarrassing bug and suffered terribly for a couple of days. His malady left him locked in our little apartment in Le Marais which began to feel more like a prison. Of course, always the dutiful wife, I stayed with him to comfort and help him, except when I went shopping. You know that blue flowered top, well it fell into a bag along with a friend it had made in the store. After a few trips to pharmacists, we were able to venture to Gare Montparnass and leave Paris for Chartres.
The trains in France are always delightful to us and we managed to enjoy the trip, although Dennis remained this lovely shade of chartreuse, as he waited for all the meds to kick in. At Chartres station, Steve and Vern, our great friends from Vancouver scooped us up with two-cheek kisses and bienvenues to begin the next part of the adventure. I had requested, before we left Canada, that we visit Chartres on a Friday afternoon, so that I could walk the famed Chartres labyrinth, which my research told me was only available for a proper walking meditation on this one day of the week in the summer; otherwise it was unceremoniously covered with chairs. So far so good, we found the cathedral easily. Well, it is the tallest and biggest building in town.
This is an entrance on the side of the cathedral, the royal entrance was even more spectacular, as you will see in a bit.
We had read that Chartres' cathedral had a visual history of Christianity and were prepared for the stained glass windows that are spectacular, but to be fair it is a fairly usual way of illustrating biblical stories. What we weren't prepared for was the massive carved wooden screen of intricate detail that wrapped the choir. It was well over 100 feet long and captivating. This UNESCO World Heritage site, has survived since 1194, despite fires and rebuilding efforts.
The cathedral also held an artifact said to be the blouse that Mary wore at the birth of Christ (see the last two pictures). I recognize that relics are an important part of the Roman Catholic tradition, but there is a part of me that says if I were Mary and was travelling god knows how far on a donkey, I wouldn't have packed much. And now that I had a new baby, none of the "cloth" I had around me would be left behind. I also doubt that anyone at the birth would have the gaul to ask a newly delivered mother for her blouse! If they dared, they would likely get way more than they bargained for, since there were no epidurals in those days. So while I think this is a nice idea, my jury is out for a permanent lunch on this claim.
The cathedral was breathtaking and huge and lovely, but I wanted to walk the labyrinth, and was happy when I found it shown on a map on some hoarding for a part of the building they were renovating.
I followed the map and ...
this is what I found, my labyrinth safe and secure under sheets of plywood as they cleaned above. The lovely volunteer monsieur suggested we "come back next year." From his lips to God's ears.
The town of Chartres rounded out our day.
Editorial note: I know I am missing accents on some of the French references, but Blogger has me baffled. So if any one knows how to add them when writing directly into the app please let me know.
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