"little town"

Rachel, Darian, and I couldn't stop singing the song at the beginning of Beauty in the Beast yesterday. You know, the one where everyone says "bonjour" to each other? We took the train to Chartres to see the cathedral and I'm not sure that there actually is more than the provincial life. It was beautiful!

There has hardly been a sunny moment in France and I'm happy to say the sun came out for us. I have grown to love the train rides here, the rushing scenery out the window, the variety of people that are crammed into the same car. I especially loved the ride to Chartres as we swooped past town after quintessential town. Upon arriving, Darian and I found mexican fajitas! Real mexican! And, if that wasn't good enough, they were vegetarian! They weren't very spicy, but it was one of the best meals I've had in France.

The cathedral itself is A-MAZ-ING. Practically perfectly preserved since the 9th century, you can almost feel antiquity seeping out of the stones. However, the best part of the tour was our tour guide, Malcom, a stodgy old British man known as the King of Chartres. He has been studying the cathedral for fifty years! He never used notes once as he took time to explain the hundreds of stained glass windows.  He had the classically dry British humor and we were stifling giggles through out the whole hour. After popping in a cough drop, he explained how previous tourists had complained that he slurped his way through tours, to which he replied "I can't be bothered" and unwrapped another. Later on in the tour, the light from his laser pointer accidentally wandered over to a woman's body. His reaction was "oh dear dear me. I certainly hope she didn't notice what was happening there. A molesting laser. Tut tut." Such a chap.

After the tour, Rachel, Darian, and I walked around the charming village (this is where the singing came in). We found a little gelato stand and started testing flavors. Amongst the array of colors, I spotted a bright pink one called "barbe à papa" which we all tried. After our little spoonful, we were all raving about this exotic, french ice cream. We decided we must have tasted it in a dream or something, it was just that good. I was half way done with my ice cream from heaven when Darian stopped short in her tracks and said she figured out the flavor. Et voilà. Cotton candy.

:::photos courtesy of Darian + Heather:::