Visit to Chartres

*Jane in Paris*

Nick and I visited the town of Chartres yesterday, which is 1 hour SW of Paris by train. Even though it was supposed to rain and I woke up feeling sick we decided to proceed as planned, because Nick really wanted to see a part of France that wasn't Paris before he leaves on Friday. I had heard that Chartres is cool because it has an old cathedral, and so I thought, "it'll be nice to see an authentic Gothic church." But wow, this place was amazing. We both agree that it is the most amazing church we've ever seen - not necessarily our favorite in every way, but a building that just makes your jaw drop. First the church encloses a huge amount of space and the arched ceiling is so far in the sky that it does seem "heavenly." This would be an impressive architectural feet today, yet it was built 800 years ago and has stood the test of several centuries. I can't really describe any better the profound feeling that being in a big place gave me. Then there are the windows! There are over 100 stained glass windows in Chartres Cathedral, all of them very large and covered with intricate depictions of Biblical stories, the lives of saints, and even some secular topics like local merchant guilds. We were there on a cloudy day, and even this little bit of light lit up the stained glass brilliantly. We didn't take many pictures of the cathedral because it's really all about the windows, and the effect of light through glass doesn't come across well in a picture. The most famous window is the "Blue Virgin," a 12th-century window depicting Mary in a garment of a striking, rare blue color. Unfortunately it was colder in the church than it was outside, I'm guessing due to the height of the ceiling, and so we were unable to devote the several hours necessary to examine all of the windows. The cold weather, however, at least kept all but a few other people out of the church that day. I can't imagine what it's like there in the summer, when tourists and pilgrims from all over the world descend upon it. Gazing at the windows in absolute silence made the experience all the more spiritual.

After staying inside the cathedral for as long as we could stand, we went to La Serpente, a restaurant in the vicinity. This was one of the most elegant places I have ever eaten in - you could sense that the owners and workers of the establishment paid attention to every detail. Not only was the food good - delicate onion soup, homemade sorbets and ice cream - but the decor and ambiance made me want to just sit and relax.

We also walked around the town a little and visited the museum at the International Center of Stained Glass. There were several works by Udo Zembock, an artist who layers sheets of colored glass to an ethereal effect. Nick poses in front of a replica of some of his pieces - most of which are functional pieces that decorate modern buildings.

In other news, Nick and I are well into our 4th month of living in Europe. It is odd to feel simultaneously at home and not at home, and to furthermore have grown comfortable with this constant dichotomy. People here ask us all the time where we're from, and at this point in my life I feel so detached/freed from any feeling of "from" that the question doesn't even seem worth answering. I don't mean this in a negative way - it's just that due to moving so many times, a physical location has been obliterated from my sense of identity. This year things have become much more complicated because not only am I living on a different continent, but I split my time pretty much evenly between two different countries. I've met a lot of other dissociated people in Paris and Vienna (from a certain place and has since lived in multiple other countries), especially in church groups, and I've really enjoyed being a part of them. In situations like that people become just people - you have to consider them individually because they cannot be simply categorized.