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Alone and unwell,stuck in an expensive foreign hotel room. I can't say I was really 'living the boho dream' during my three nights in Blois.
I didn't fancy the 5 mile trek to the out-of-town youth hostel, and more importantly I needed to sleep. Such a goal was never going to be acomplished by being turfed out into the streets from 10 to 6, as is often the policy at Hosteling international.
In Search of the Catwater.
James Taylor2006-08-23 13:35:42
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chips. In the summer, It is probably packed, but in mid-March, that certainly wasn't the case.
It also, undeniably 'bewtiful, no', as my French roomate from Bordeaux put it. It is exactly as you would imagine an immaculately preserved french medieval city to be.
Cobbled streets and romantic little squares are notably conspicous. Although It's probably a very poignant background to a wasted youth, I imagine a retirement spent here is far more fulfilling. Something that the large number of video rental shops, and disaffected youths hanging around them, are a testament to. That is essentialy all there is to do in this town.
Despite having no energy and being constantly out of breath, I had managed to stagger around Blois chateau on my second day. Flat, level ground was bearable. On this I could walk for about twenty minutes before being forced to collapse, triumphant marathon runner style, onto the nearest bench. However slopes, and in particular steps, of which there were a vast number, were my nemesis. I now have great sympathy with the more elderly members of the population. I now have some small understanding of their plight. All I can say, is thank god I'm not a smoker.
By the next afternoon I was feeling much, much better. I decided, possibly foolishly after the previous afternoons debacle, to rent a bike and head of in search of Chambord, the heavyweight Chateau (It means castle/palace, but if I'm not mistaken literally translates as Cat Water) in the area, hoping to see some of the Loire countryside on the way.
It shouldn't have been so difficult. My guidebook suggested it was about an hours ride and at first the route was clearly signposted. After about 45 minutes however, the signs just stopped, and I was left cycling along a road that became increasingly narrow and more deserted. I should have continued, there had been no indication of a turning, and the guidebook instructed
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