Giverny

We had an unforgettable stay in the Chateau de la Madelaine, a 12th century chateau about 8 km from Giverny. This imposing building is situated on 30 acres of rolling lawns and forest, right on the banks of the Seine River. You can see my earlier posts for some images of this place.

Approaching along the long driveway you could easily let your imagination wander back to bygone ages when this place must have really shone. Even now, although it is showing the inevitable ravages of time, it still reaks of opulence and past money.

The long dead previous owners must have had a fascination with mirrors as most rooms are adorned with huge, gilded mirrors which help to make the already generous proportions of the rooms look even larger.

The place is now owned by a charismatic young Frenchman who explained to me that it was purchased by his late mother and father. Although they were respectively a retired judge and a Colonel in the French army, the task of restoring the building proved to be a bridge too far for the aging couple. The responsibility for continuing the restoration work then fell on the shoulders of their young son who now runs the chateau as a boutique bed and breakfast facility.
During our talk I happened to ask if the chateau had a basement. The reply was "Of course, would you like to see it?" That sounded like something of a challenge so my immediate reply was "Of course".

He then led me through a labyrinth of corridors and up and down a series of spiral staircases before stopping me in front of a highly decorated wall. He explained "secret door" and proceeded to open a disguised panel to reveal a long dark tunnel on the other side.

At that point I was starting to get a few second thoughts, but my guide seemed quite excited at the prospect of showing me his secret dungeon. He exclaimed, "Wait I forget something" and disappeared for a couple of minutes to retrieve a tiny (and very dim) torch. Not only was the light output negligible but it was one of those eco torches that have to be rewound every 10 seconds or so in order to keep them working.

We then both staggered into the clinging darkness. The walls and ceiling seemed to be only inches from my face, and I did not want to imagine what types of furry creatures might be running around my feet. Every few metres he stopped to wind the torch and soon we were immersed in a black subterranean world. I tried not to think what we would do if he dropped the torch.

We then proceeded to go deeper and deeper into the bowels of the earth until he warned "STOP". A couple of feet in front of me was a vertical well which dropped hundreds of feet out of sight. A couple more steps would have sent me tumbling to a certain death. I don't know how long it had been since anyone had been here, but the cobwebs and musty smell suggested it had been a long, long time.

By this time, I was feeling a little claustrophobic (actually a lot) and I desperately wanted to get back out into the light again. I turned around and started to feel my way back along the tunnel, only to feel an enormous blow to the head. Although I thought at first that my guide had turned into some sort of evil Igor and had tried to kill me, but the real reason was that I had crowned my head on old rusty water pipe which used to draw water from the well. When I felt my forehead I could feel the first drops of blood starting to seep through. Suffice to say that I was a little more circumspect for the remainder of the return journey and was relieved when we were both out in the daylight again. Nevertheless it had been another very memorable episode in a trip that has already given so much.

When Maggie asked what happened to my head I simply replied "Don't ask".Read more