A Day on the Loire.

Our day on the Loire would not have been complete without the good friend who lives now in the heart of of Angers but spent many years in Paris and collected copious memories visiting the sights of the Loire as well. Our little French car barely fit through the narrow alleys of the upper city as we approached her apartment. Having her in the car made for easy banter about the route along one side of the Loire or the other, various little riverside villages and frequent detours. It's essential to spend a full day along the Loire for the light changes the way you capture the water with your eye. Along the south bank or is it the left bank, you drive very close to the edge with the houses virtually touching the road and a full open view of the Loire and all its splendor on the other. We all agreed that cars would preferably be forbidden here so the inhabitants could have their peace. Apparently in summer there is a stead stream of cars. The most westerly of the famous castles of the Loire was our first major destination. Saumur and its many high towers dominates the cliffs of the left bank. We could see that major renovations were underway due to the collapse of the foundations and wall closest to the river a few years ago. Since entering the castle was out of the question we viewed the exterior and captured the view over the river and the town. The highlight was lunch of course. We sat ont he terrace with Saumur directly in front of us. Aas the sun played hide and seek with the clouds we alternatively removed and put on our wraps. It was glorious being outdoors knowing winter was on its way. We all had fish and at least one of the plates held tiny little fish of the Loire fried to a crisp somewhat smaller than the French fired served alongside. The creme caramel was a luscious finale to an exquisite repast. Next on the menu for the day was a well-known, oft-visited abbey: Abbaye de Fontevraud, where we would encounter a plethora of visitors speaking a multitude of languages. But before entering the abbey, we happened upon the studio of an artist specializing in stencil illumination as practiced by medieval monks. Examples of his craft were on display. He was very happy to explain the details of his work which include cutting holes in metal templates, preparing paints and dyes made of real substances. It seems, for example, that he uses gold leaf. He emphasized that he doesn't normally take commissions but works on what interests him. There are in fact only s mall handful of such artisans left, mostly in France. His work includes the front plate of an "antique" edition of the "Book of Morman" which he brought to Salt Lake City himself. In fact our chat with him was merely prelude to the visit to the Abbey, which became a series of little surprises. The first delight was saving two euros (three dollars) getting in by flashing my PHHS staff ID. The second surprise was having to go down a series of steps upon entering the chapel. Recently renovated, the effect was a light, almost white stone interior with occasional patches of magically spectral sunshine. What wasn't clear was the gender of the large German tour guide (enigma: low voice, large bust). What became clear as we moved through the extensive complex was that those nuns centuries ago had a life divided between prayer and work. Only one room, the calefactory, was heated. It was there where stitchery and embroidery were practiced. Most unusual was the architectural design of the kitchen. This building consisted of a number of cooking alcoves with smoke holes some 20 meters above. From the outside, the roof had been textured and structured to look quite like an Eastern Orthodox tower. Imagine a light coating of snow on the shingles and the effect is even more pronounced. The well-labeled kitchen herbal garden is rivaled only by the medicinal garden. Final surprise: the apple orchard doubles as a cemetery. When I think of our return route, back to Angers, I will remember the frequent interruption in the stream of traffic by little red lights which forced the traffic into a single lane due to major road work, all caused by the instability of the foundation of the highway due to frequent flooding of the Loire. Think of the Loire as a large flood plain with numerous branches, forks, and islands. Some houses were built on bits of high land so that when flooding occurs the resident can commute by boat. There are even whole villages which are periodically cut off from roads and become island communities It appears that the aesthetic value of living in these places outweighs the practicality of moving elsewhere.