We woke up to the bells of Eglise Saint-Denis tolling the hour as the sun broke through the mist to shine on Chateau d’Amboise across the rooftops. I booked this apartment for the view, and it did not disappoint. Out another window we could see the tarps of market stalls and flashes of the Loire, so we ventured toward the river after finishing breakfast and games. What games does one play at breakfast? Monopoly Deal, of course. Someone always gets upset if we play at night, but everyone is more generous in the morning.
We arrived at the market in good spirits. Isaac announced he forgot to bring a mask and had to wear one of mine. That was the end of our good spirits, and Isaac sulked as we inched through the very crowded but rather charming stalls artfully piled with the fruits of the season. Local figs, grapes, apples, late summer melons, wild forest mushrooms, autumn flowers, brioche, baguettes, handmade soap, oysters and champagne, food trucks—a lot of it was similar to our favorite market back home in Stockel. One thing that was different was the soaring sycamore trees spreading dappled shade over everything. It was a perfect autumn day—cool with a thinning mist, warming sunshine, and the first leaves fluttering around, scouting out the turning season. The canopy was somewhere between chartreuse and pale gold.
One stand blared American country music and a Texas flag, boasting “Nouveau Orleans” style BBQ. We loved that of course. We bought a brioche, some soft local cheese mixed with herbs, and raspberry jam for a picnic lunch on the grassy riverbank of France’s last un-dammed river. At the very edge of the market near the trio of string musicians we were stalled by a wall of fluffy chickens for sale.
“CAN WE BUY A CHICKEN?” I teased Chris. The kids chimed in: “PLEASE OH PLEASE CAN WE BUY A CHICKEN?! OH MY GOSH THEY’RE SO CUTE AND I’LL EAT EGGS EVERY DAY WELL NO I WON’T BUT PLEASE CAN WE BUY A CHICKEN?!” We did not buy a chicken, but Isaac and Eloise enjoyed the story of how Isaac and I bought some chicks in Florida while Chris was out of town one time. We watched someone buy a chicken and walk off with it in a box.
Chris went back and bought more brioche while the kids threw sticks into the river. Everyone’s high spirits returned, and we set out in search of adventures in castles. But that is another post!
French grapes figs Potiron means pumpkin and butternut squash Anybody want a chicken? Boar-ing Classy market musique