clairedavieswriter

It was strange, and a bit frustrating, to be walking in circles rather than cycling towards a new destination, but Bernard, Guillaume and Hugo weren’t complaining about the morning off.

The ancient streets of Bourges were sabbath quiet…

It turned out people were either at the market, buying asparagus as thick as a baby’s arm…

Or at Sunday mass in the city’s remarkable UNESCO-recognised cathedral. By the time I crept out, these pews had all filled up.

The best view I had of the cathedral was from the Marais – formerly marshes, as the name suggests, but now a huge sprawling oasis of allotments a stone’s throw from the city centre:

This described the atmosphere very well

Besides the cathedral, Bourges’ other main claim to fame is as the birthplace of a contemporary of Jeanne d’Arc, and Master of the Royal Mint:

Coeur eventually fell from favour, but not before he had acquired a vast property portfolio, including this palace in Bourges. It seems the two things were not unconnected.

As always, I found amusement on my wanderings.

I admired the absolute honesty of this delicatessen:

And having spent a month on a bike, this reference to massive thighs made me laugh out loud. Cheap at the price?

Eventually it was time to catch a crowded train to Tours, which required a bit of manoeuvring. I don’t think Bernard was particularly comfortable, but worse indignities were to come. Tonight he is jammed in a cupboard on the way to the bins behind the reception desk.

Ibis Styles (sic) tried to charge me a €2 supplement for this privilege, but I’m pleased to say they came round to my point of view. Early start tomorrow, so I trust they don’t get their own back by accidentally losing the key to the cupboard.