We managed to arrive at Gare de Lyon minutes after the train had departed and instead spent the next 30 minutes till the next train eating as many 'Millie's Cookies' as we could. I am now the expert on Chocolat Orange, Chocolat Lait et Oatmeal et Raisin. YUM.
After buying a train ticket and contemplating whether we should buy two seats each after consuming so much butter in such a small space of time, we headed to Platform J (we felt so Harry Potter, but alas, no running through brick walls. Maybe next time). and went through a screening process by one of the train conductors who asked us if we "aime le sucre avec vos the?" (like sugar with our tea?) We're still not sure if this guy was super friendly or hitting on us considering a.) he was about 50 and balding and b.) that pick up line SUCKS.
We boarded the train, adamant we were sitting in first class and were about to get kicked off (it wasn't and we didn't, turns out we just caught a very nice train) and we spent the next 40 minutes watching the buildings become more sparse (sparser?), enjoying the release of leaving the big city and talking about baby names and twin syndrome (...don't ask).
We arrived at Fontainebleau Avon station and figured out how to get a bus to the chateau (clue: eavesdrop others and follow them). Arriving at the chateau was breath taking as it is magnificent! If I was to call anything magnificent, this chateau definitely fits the description. The chateau once belonged to the kings of France and is one of the largest french royal chateaux. It also includes a forest which was home to the royal hunting park (what chateau is complete without a hunting park, really).
We bought a ticket (kind of, once again we just showed our SciencesPo student card and the lady just handed us a ticket, no charge and with a smile, the latter almost more rare in french customer service. It pays to have people think you're on your way to becoming the next President of France). With only 1 hour till the chateau closed (as we were frequently told by the staff, it was like information tourettes), we thought we would have to sped through the palace but only a small part was open to the public. The rooms were elaborate, in every sense of the word (not sure how many senses there actually are to that word, but it was extremely lavish). Some of the furniture was actually the original stuff (it was obvious which stuff it was considering it was covered in gladwrap) and every inch of the rooms were coated in over the top designs. It was incredible to think about royalty actually walking the same halls centuries ago and amazing to think the large rooms and overwhelming interior was actually daily life for them. I now appreciate more the phrase 'fit for a King'.
After walking through the chateau in complete awe of our surroundings, we headed outside and admired the equally astonishing gardens. Between the chairs that you're not allowed to sit on and the grass you're not allowed to touch, it was easy to get the feeling that you were walking with the who's who of France's history.
With the sun streaming down from the cloudless sky and the autumn leaves floating down from the trees, a brisk breeze in the air, I would easily say that we went at the best time of the year, the hoards of tourists from the summer season having left, allowing the 'locals' to experience it uninhibited. (Locals has now come to include New Zealander's in my imagination).
Unfortunately we arrived too late to rent a wee boat but we have vowed to go back again sometime soon to rent a boat and trawl the town.
Instead we left the chateau and headed back to the centre ville. (We had a minor detour of, say, 1 hour. Translation: we got competely lost after seeing a sign for 'centre ville' in the wrong direction, walking for miles and ended up asking various old lady's what the heck direction to head in to get back to the town and the bus station. Turns out we don't have the best sense of direction between us and instead spent the time encouraging ourselves by saying, we're either going in the right direction or the wrong direction, but at least we're moving. If we're going the right way, thats good, and if we're going the wrong way, we're actually going the right way in a backwards kinda way. No, this doesn't make sense, and yes, we were saying this while walking in the complete wrong direction.)
Nevertheless, we eventually made it back to the town thanks to some friendly 80+'s, grabbed some much needed food and caught the bus back to the station. We waited for the train for a long time (wondering why we hadn't checked what time if left when we arrived) and eventually boarded it as the sun was setting, the purple hues casting a beautiful light across one of my favourite ville's so far.
We arrived back in Paris significantly late for our dinner date, but having continued our baby names topic from the trip there, established that none of us should have kids yet because all of us, bar one, would be sure to damage all our children's hope with our fondness for perculiar names. (Side note: the bar one was not me).
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