Sitting in my hotel room in Angers, watching various dubbed TV shows, drinking tea, and battling a headache. I arrived in Angers yesterday afternoon, exhausted and slightly overwhelmed by being suddenly in a much bigger city with no idea where I am or going, and extremely fatigued from traveling for two days in a row. I took it easy, walking around until dinner time, finding a small restaurant for dinner, and returned to my room for the night. I ate at a "Mexican" restaurant. I miss Mexican food, and in Paris, it was interesting to taste a French interpretation of a burrito. La Rochelle doesn't appear to have a Mexican restaurant, so I figured I'd indulge while I had the chance. I ordered a fajita, and although they have the concept down, they miss the basic spices. It had all the ingredients (peppers, onions, beef, tortillas, rice, guacamole), it tasted more like an Indian meal than Mexican. Not that I'm complaining, I liked it. I also liked their take on chips and salsa; the chips were flavored gently with spices and the salsa was a mix of tomatoes, peaches, and spices. It was a bizarre but strangely delicious mix. Red wine washed it all down, and I finished with an apple and cinnamon tart with fresh vanilla ice cream. I was stuffed, but thankfully have been walking all over for days, enough that my legs are sore (which considering how much I've been walking in the past month, that's saying something), I don't need to worry too much about occasionally indulging in a sumptuous meal.
Today I had my breakfast delivered to my room, complete with hot chocolate, a miniature croissant and pain au chocolat, and bread (with butter, jam, and goat cheese supplied to accompany it). All in all, it was a great way to start the day. After that, I took my time getting ready; having four days to explore the city keeps me from being rushed as I was in Cognac or Saintes. My first, most important goal was to see the chateau. Built mostly by Blanche de Castille in the 13th century, added on and updated in following centuries, it's another one of those many historical old things that I could spend a lifetime studying and never get bored. I've fallen in love with something that can't love me back, really. Walking into the castle, looking around and touching the old stone walls of the towers and ramparts, knowing that this is all of history I'll ever get, feels a bit like heartbreak. But it's also thrilling, and despite the heartache, it makes me smile like an idiot at absolutely nothing and draw all sorts of worried stares. Ah, unrequited love.
It's a fortified chateau, with a chapel, gardens, governor's residence, and ruins of the royal residence. It served as home to the Comtes d'Anjou (my ancestors!). From the end of the era of castles to the mid-twentieth century, it also served as a prison. I find it fascinating that what was the height of luxury and home to royal blood during the Middle Ages served as a prison, for enemies of the state and criminals, only a few hundred years later. How things change, hm?
I would give anything to see what the walls have seen, to hear and feel what they've known over the years.. Love. It makes us all crazy but it makes me envious of battered walls and stones, what does that say about my sanity? Nothing flattering, I'm sure. Well, and so.
I passed a lovely afternoon within the walls of the castle, walking the ramparts, taking photos to show everyone, and admiring how something like a castle can just be stuck in the middle of a modern, busy city. People walk by it all the time without even glancing twice at the towering walls and gates. Yet another symptom of love-sickness: being jealous and resentful of the people who don't appreciate the history they get to live in, with around. One of the houses around the chateau was built in 1399, a wooden medieval house and someone gets to live there. It's someone's home, and I want it to be mine, along with every other medieval house left in this city and the parts of the castle that are still there.
Not so much to ask, is it?
After grabbing a sandwich on the go, I returned to the hotel and inadvertently took a nap. I'd just intended to rest my eyes, but I guess they needed more rest than I'd thought. I woke back up at six, in time to go for a walk and look for a cute place to eat dinner before any restaurant opened at seven. I found a creperie, adorable and tucked back in an alley. It's run by a family: husband, wife, and young daughter. A lovely meal, a convivial atmosphere and a dessert crepe with slices of apple, home-made caramel sauce, and drenched in calvados—a perfect ending to a great day of vacation.
Tomorrow I plan to go shopping. This city has an excellent selection of shops, and I can't resist. La Rochelle is too small to have a great and varied selection, so I'm taking advantage of it while I'm here. Everything will be closed Sunday, so that's the day I'll go walking about taking pictures of all the old, cool buildings and streets.
For now, I'm going to bed relatively early. This headache is getting the better of me and I'd rather beat my head against the pillow that the wall (for some reason, hitting my head against something when it's hurting actually helps). It's what I get for packing light and forgetting my advil. If it weren't so late, I'd go to a pharmacy here for something, but they all close at seven.
Headaches suck.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow . . .
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