Springtime in Paris: Reims and Vitry-le-François
It was almost time for us to depart Reims and we had barely explored the historic capital of Champagne. The city was named for the Remi, the local Belgic tribe that allied with the Romans during their conquest of Gaul. Before we set off on our trip I had made sure I knew the correct pronunciation of the city - the vowel sound is most similar to "ah" and the final "s" is pronounced, so with the usual guttural "r" the best English approximation is "hrahms". Reims was where Clovis I was baptized in the fifth century, resulting in the alignment of the Frankish kingdom with Gallo-Roman Catholicism. The future kings of France were subsequently crowned in Reims all the way through to the penultimate monarch, Charles X, in 1825.
After getting sandwiches and pain au chocolat from the bakery next door we set of down Rue de Tambour, named for the statue of a drummer that once adorned the façade of a medieval building on the street. That building, the Maison des Musiciens, was destroyed by bombardment during World War I but the statues were reconstructed recently by a local civic association. Rue de Tambour let us out into Place du Forum, a large open square surrounded by attractive buildings and restaurants. There was a subterranean Roman ruin here called a cryptoportique that was once a passageway or a storage area. It was closed for some kind of maintenance and it hadn't sounded very interesting to explore anyway. Another block further south was Place Royale, a circular plaza with a statue of King Louis XV in the center. The original statue was destroyed during the French Revolution but it was replaced in the early nineteenth century. The plaza was surrounded by classic buildings with ground floor galleries, many of them belonging to the municipal government.
I let the kids guess the name of the Reims cathedral and they got it right away - Notre Dame once again. The shell of the cathedral dates to the thirteenth century, although everything else had to be replaced after a massive fire ignited by mortar shells during World War I. The building still looked antiquated and magnificent, showing no outward sign of its restoration. Thirty different French kings were crowned here and in its eleventh century predecessor.
We took the unusual step of entering the cathedral to appreciate its cavernous interior. As we faced the apse, the nave looked similar to that of other cathedrals we had visited. The inner side of the west portal through which we had entered was unusually striking with two large and colorful stained glass rose windows and an array of intricate sculptures contained within alcoves.
At the edge of the old town, sleek and modern street cars were shuttling residents to other parts of the city. Rather than try to figure out the system we walked back to our apartment and saw a little bit of the more modern part of town. 
Our pied-a-terre for the next two nights was less than a two hour drive away so we had time for a few stops en route. Not far from Reims was the Moulin de Verzenay, a non-functioning hilltop windmill that is now the property of the Mumm champagne house. We followed the Google Maps route which took us along some dirt roads that were in very poor condition. The driveway gate was locked so we couldn't get close to the mill but the views of the vineyards and the little champagne village of Verzenay were pleasant. On the other side of the village there was a lighthouse built in the early twentieth century whose only purpose was to advertise a local brand of champagne. 
I hadn't found a Thursday market when I did my research and at the time it didn't seem like a big deal. Did we really need to go to a market every single day? I had forgotten how addictive it was to begin our day amid aisles of tables and counters stacked with local delicacies. Markets were also our only chance to have a hearty breakfast, given that the French typically only eat a croissant or a pastry with coffee in the morning. Once again I interrogated ChatGPT and was duly informed of a weekly market in Vitry-le-François, a town I had never heard of slightly off the direct route from Reims to Troyes.
When we arrived in the town I was impressed by how picturesque it was and I knew we would need to explore the center a little once we were done eating. The market hall was obviously quite new, a roomy shed with a ribbed and vaulted ceiling. It was almost too large for the number of vendors inside, resulting in a sense that the offerings were a little threadbare. It was a local type of market that mostly focused on staple ingredients without the exotic and expensive items more likely to appeal to urbanites and visitors. 
Things began looking up once we went out the back of the market, where there were trucks selling horsemeat and a wide selection of fresh fish. Perhaps the most impressive display was provided by a spice merchant who had outfitted his truck with specialized wooden shelving to present his gravity dispensers and apothecary jars full of herbs and dried fruits as effectively as possible. One of the vendors gave us a friendly wave and a shout and I realized it was the North African guy we had bought stuffed msemen from in Châlons. He thought it was hilarious that we were making the rounds of the weekly markets in Champagne just as he was. He suggested we visit a large reservoir to the east called Lac du Der, where there were apparently a lot of recreational activities, but it seemed to us to be much too cold for swimming.
Mei Ling quickly found one of her beloved rotisseries and bought a whole roasted chicken for the kids to tear into pieces, since they weren't selling them in halves. We got one of their very soft and airy loaves of bread as well and I tried a slice from a loaf of fish chunks suspended in aspic. The first couple of bites were pretty good but it quickly got difficult to deal with the combination of fishiness and saltiness. I tried to get some help with it from Ian but only a nibble was forthcoming and about half the slice ended up in the trash. 
The market hall opened directly onto Place d'Armes, a charming central square that was fed by four main streets that formed a cross around it. Each street intersected with a side of the square perpendicularly instead of entering at the corners. The unusual scheme was inspired by Piedmontese urban planning, which was utilized to rebuild the city after it was destroyed by the Holy Roman Emperor in the sixteenth century. In the center of the plaza there was a two-tiered fountain topped by a statue of a woman holding oars, the Goddess of the Marne. The most distinguished buildings of the town were arranged around the square, including a number of banks and the main church. The kids were starting to get accustomed to demanding hot chocolate at least once a day and I couldn't say no once they spotted an irresistible cafe.
The dominant structure on Place d'Armes was the seventeenth century Collégiale Notre-Dame, a Classical Baroque church with magnificent windows and two orders of tall Corinthian columns. The ubiquitous appellation of Notre Dame reflects the strong association of the Gothic power structure with Marian devotion. Eventually the name became almost synonymous with Catholic tradition in northeastern France and cathedrals continued to be named in honor of the Virgin Mary for many centuries. Vitry-le-François had proven to be a remarkable find, not just for its market but for its fascinating central square. Nevertheless the town seems to be almost completely unknown as a tourism destination and I suspect its residents would prefer to keep it that way. 
We doubled back north for a view miles to make a quick visit to a village called Saint-Amand-sur-Fion, also recommended by Chat GPT. The little hamlet once enjoyed the designation of Les Plus Beaux Villages de France but we had a difficult time finding much of substance within the town borders. There were a few old timber-framed buildings but nothing approaching the character of Châlons-en-Champagne. The only exception was a very impressive medieval church that didn't seem to belong in such a diminutive village.
Our detour to Vitry-le-François had taken us away from the major highways and the route onward now lay along two-lane roads. We passed through a gently rolling patchwork of green and beige fields with occasional large expanses of yellow rapeseed. Mei Ling is a particular fan of the bright yellow flowers and at one point we pulled over so that she could immerse herself within them. North Americans aren't very familiar with the term rapeseed, which they know better as canola. Rapeseed oil acquired a reputation for being unfit for human consumption due to some toxic components, but in recent decades these undesirable elements were bred out of the plants. The Canadians rebranded rapeseed oil as canola (Canadian oil, low acid) but it is still known in France by its original name of colza.
Arcis-sur-Aube was another ChatGPT recommendation that left us scratching our heads. Our visit got off to a promising start when we parked above the bank of the Aube, a meandering tributary of the Seine. The town itself seemed somewhat depressed, an atmosphere that included the church which was in a more dilapidated and grimy state than any we had seen so far on this trip. Arcis-sur-Aube has some historical significance as the site of one of Napoleon's final battles on French soil as well as being the hometown of the prominent revolutionary Charles Danton, but little of that historic character seemed to have carried over into the present day. We did at least find a post office to mail the postcard we had been carrying around in one of the backpacks since Paris. Afterwards we drove around the town center for a few minutes to make sure we hadn't missed any points of particular interest. Finding done, we returned to the road for the final half hour of our drive to Troyes.
This featured blog entry was written by zzlangerhans from the blog On the Way to Everywhere.
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