An evening in Champlitte

[shewhomust]

A month ago, I wrote about the last time we were in France, expecting to return to the topic within days, and to tidy away the end of the story not long after. But that was a month ago (to the day). Ah, well.

My notes for the next stage of the joutney say only two things. Firstly, without explanation: Haute-Saône celebrates 20 years twinning with Mexico. This disconcerted me so much that I initially attributed it to the previous post, but on reflection it belongs here, with the record of a night in the department of Haute-Saône (and a quick search doesn't explain how this area came to be twinned with Mexico, but at least confirms that I hadn't imagined it).

We had come to Champlitte without knowing anything about the town, having picked up a list of Logis de France hotels at the tourist office after lunch, and decided that there was only one on our route north and within an afternoon's drive: I think it was this one, which seems to have the right location opposite the town's little château (now museum). This website explains (in French) how historic the place is, and how diminished from its days of glory: click on its postage stamp images to see photos of its most picturesque sites on a sunny day. Which is fortunate: I have the happiest memories of our explorations before dinner that evening, following whichever street looked most tempting, peering into courtyards and taking many, many photos. But when I look through those photos now, the ones I am happiest with show neither the castle nor the river, and the sun isn't shining in any of them. In fact, this is not atypical:

Maybe an extreme example, though. In the interests of balance, here's a more touristic view past the fountain and down the street:

There were many handsome buidings, but most of them looked neglected, decaying:

The cracks running through those windows can't be healthy. High on the walls, little figures of saints praying, presumably, that the masonry wouldn't crumble beneath them. I liked this madonna beset by chunky cherubs:

and Saint Nicholas, with the three students he has resurrected from the pickle barrel:

We have commerce, as well as religion:

And this fine contribution to my collection of cross-cultural pizze: is 'poule au pot' one of the toppings on offer (only on Sundays, perhaps)?

We didn't ask, but returned instead to our hotel, and dined there. With a bottle of organic rosé Pascal HENRIOT VdP Champlitte, although I don't remember anything about the wine, but it's the second thing in my notes. Presumably this winemaker, and we would have chosen it as being the most local option, and I must have liked it, or I wouldn't have made a note of it.

Comments

[sartorias.livejournal.com]

Gorgeous photos, but my quake-consciousness gave me real shivers at the sight of that one wall with those high cracks.

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

Oh, dear! That had never occurred to me, as I have no quake-consciousness at all. I'm grieved for a fine old building in an unstable state, but without that particular twist!

[athenais.livejournal.com]

It's a shame that the building with cracks isn't being repaired, but the cost must be ghastly.

I would totally have had Henri Quatorze pizza.

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

There was quite a lot of building work going on elsewhere - perhaps they've reached that building by now (I hope so).

And I do enjoy eating pizza-as-interpreted-in-places-to-which-it-is-not-indigenous. Didn't mean to suggest otherwise!

[cmcmck.livejournal.com]

Love that first shot, but you knew I would! :o)

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

I look forward to your holiday shots of decay and abandonment!

[gillpolack.livejournal.com]

Those post-pickled children look very grumpy. This makes me happy.

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

You'd look pretty sour if you'd been pickled.

(Sorry. Couldn't resist).

[gillpolack.livejournal.com]

No need to apologise, a joke like that is irresistible.

[karinmollberg.livejournal.com]

Walking through old towns in France often gives me this creepy feeling of being in the late GDR; the decay picture could be from Brandenburg where I was and it was much like that in 1982. I kid you not. (There would be flowered curtains in the window maybe, for someone retired with no West family would be living inside...and some more holes in the walls from shots etc.) Love the poule au pot pizza too; to think the King ate that.

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

I love the lace curtains they have in these old houses, the single panel of lace showing a scene...

[karinmollberg.livejournal.com]

Exactly those, only weirdly still with very rural motives that were more probably examples of l'art naïve Made in Vietnam (many of my shoes and our towels were of that brand for we had to spend the exchange money and prove it by way of receipts at reluctantly being let out again, this is how I remember well for the shoes were not that comfortable and the towels hard) and not at all depicting the hard labour of farmer Comrades as expected! There are whole branches of kitsch production that have since been moved to Chinese factories, it seems, for the benefit of Mao'se Comrades and our sense of Nature that must not be distraught; faux flora&fauna as sported by (faux; we are not married) MIL in her bathroom window in the Dordogne.