Here you can browse through my blog posts prior to February 2022. Currently I'm sharing my travel experiences, candid opinions, and what's on my mind solely on my Facebook page. — Rick
I was tired after a long day of guidebook research. But there’s a buzz about the sound-and-light show at Reims Cathedral so, after dinner, my France guidebook co-author, Steve Smith, and I walked down the street to one of the greatest cathedrals in Europe.
The building, began in 1211 and essentially finished in 60 years under the direction of four different architects, is remarkable for its harmony and unity of style. Having learned from the construction of earlier Gothic churches, the architects in Reims were now confident in its structure. It’s far more elegant-looking and has more glass than, for instance, the Cathedral of Chartres.
When wonderstruck by Gothic cathedrals, I often contemplate the lives of the people who built these huge buildings back in the 13th century. Construction on a scale like this required a community effort. It was all hands on deck. Most townsfolk who participated donated their money or their labor knowing that they would likely never see it completed — such was their pride, dedication, and faith. Imagine the effort it took to raise the funds and manage the workforce. Master masons supervised, while the average Jean-Claude did much of the sweat work. Labor was something that even the poorest medieval peasant could donate generously.
The builders of the Cathedral of Reims gave it their all, in part because this was the church where French kings would be crowned. And today, visitors enjoy the church in a way its builders could never imagine.
If you can’t see the video below, watch it on YouTube.
When traveling in France, you can’t help but marvel at the towering Gothic cathedrals that mark the centers of many towns. I like to imagine what it was like to be a pilgrim 600 years ago, wonderstruck by saints and Bible stories, and hiking for days and even weeks to a particular church on a particular holy day — until there it appeared…on the horizon…the towering spire of the cathedral marking your destination.
Chartres Cathedral at Sunset
While I never choose a hotel room just for the views, occasionally I open the window and am blessed with a lovely surprise. Here in Chartres, after a thunderstorm cleaned out the mucky air, the setting sun invigorated the cathedral with warmth. I positioned my chair for the view, put my stocking feet on the windowsill, and enjoyed one of those “European moments.” Do you know what I mean?
Art from the Cathedral of Reims
Great cathedrals were draped in great art. Back in the Middle Ages, the noble art form was architecture, which was done for the glory of God. Sculpture, tapestry, and stained glass were also considered worthwhile, as they decorated the house of God. That’s why the finest art of the 13th and 14th centuries (called “The Age of Faith”) was art that decorated the churches. Of course, the acidic air of our age has threatened the survival of these statues, and these days most great cathedrals have replaced their medieval decorations with modern versions — and adjacent museums show off the fine original art from the church safely out of the elements. Here in the Reims Cathedral Museum (Palais du Tau), I enjoy a chance to see 700-year-old statues and lovingly assembled and stained windows up closer than their creators ever imagined the public would see them.
Gargoyles with Molten Lead
Gothic cathedrals had wooden roofs (which were prone to fire) with lead surfaces. For decades, I’ve heard guides describe the horror of a Gothic roof burning and “molten rivers of lead cascading down.” I’ve long wondered if that was an exaggeration. Then, at the Reims Cathedral Museum, I saw gargoyles (which are designed to function as storm drains and spew rainwater away from the walls during thunderstorms) with those “molten rivers of lead” right there…caught in their stony throats. Wow. That made my afternoon.
French-3, English-0
I love France, and always cut the French a little slack for their national pride, which can be misinterpreted by American visitors. But lately, I’m a little disappointed in their lack of English information posted at sights of international interest, where over half the paying public probably doesn’t speak French. I was just at the Museum of the Surrender in Reims (the headquarters from where Eisenhower ran the final months of WWII, and where the Germans finally signed the surrender treaty on VE Day) and found exhibits in French only. I got a little heated with the staff there, who didn’t seem to think it mattered. (I believe proper translations could be created and posted in about one day’s work, and in the two years since I last visited and complained, nothing has been done.) This photo is from a different sight, the Reims Cathedral Museum (Palais du Tau), where the informational videos (which I’m sure were fascinating to French speakers) had a French soundtrack, with French subtitles, and signed in French to boot. Each day, I imagine a thousand paying tourists who don’t speak a lick of French visit here and get nothing out of the video. And each day, maybe one deaf person is thankful for the sign language.
My favorite way to appreciate a great Gothic cathedral is with a good local guide. I like an art historian who understands the mindset of the medieval faithful and knows how to take me there. For about 50 years, the English scholar Malcolm Miller has been guiding small groups on intimate tours of the statues and windows of Chartres Cathedral. I’ve been enjoying his talks with each visit since the 1970s. I was so thrilled to hang a mic on Malcolm and include a bit of his lecture as part of our TV show. Every cathedral needs a Malcolm Miller…but only Chartres has one. Thank you, Monsieur Miller, for a lifetime of inspiration.
Reims, with its breathtaking Gothic cathedral and its beloved Champagne caves, is just 45 minutes from Paris on the new TGV connection. That makes it a wonderful day trip. We just reworked the Reims chapter in our France guidebook to make sure those zipping in for the day have everything they need to get the most out of their visit. My co-author, Steve Smith, and I spent a couple of nights in Reims, and our time here reminded me how important it is to enjoy modern French culture in a sizeable city that isn’t Paris.
Reims’ Fountain-Turned-Garden
The action after dark in Reims is along Place Drouet d’Erlon. While called a “place” (square), it’s really a long, wide street that’s now pedestrianized and thriving with hungry and thirsty fun-seekers. Reims was the biggest city on the Western Front in World War I, and about the only thing standing in this part of town in 1918 was this fountain of the Winged Victory. As local students filled the fountain with soap, and sudsed it one time too many, the mayor decided to replace the fountain with a garden. I think it’s great.
Floodlit Reims Cathedral
Reims Cathedral is breathtakingly floodlit at night. Just marveling at it after dark reminded me how enthusiastic and expert the French are about floodlighting their great monuments.
Sound-and-Light Show at Reims Cathedral
Throughout the summer in Reims, each night when darkness falls, a crowd gathers at the foot of the towering cathedral to enjoy a free sound-and-light show. The lights, colors, and sounds are all formidable (say it in French: for-mee-DAH-bluh).
Cathedral Facade, Colorized by Light
I struggle with the idea that Europe’s wonderful Gothic church facades were boldly painted in the 13th and 14th centuries. In Reims, the sound-and-light show did a good job of helping me envision how they might have looked to a medieval peasant (perhaps on mushrooms).
Next year will mark the centennial of the start of World War I. And 2016 will be the centennial of the Battle of Verdun. I visited the Verdun battlefield site (in France) with an excellent local guide, who helped me come up with this expanded description for the new edition of my France guidebook:
The Battle of Verdun (also called the “Battle of 300 Days and Nights”) was fought from February through December of 1916. This was one chapter in a horrific “war of attrition,” in which the leaders of Germany and France decided to wage a fierce battle knowing they would both suffer unprecedented losses…but each calculated that the other would bleed white and drop first.
During the “Hell of Verdun” (hell for troops and hell for locals), Germany and France dropped 60 million shells on each other here. While we have an image of rifle fire and hand-to-hand combat, most of the fighting was about shells bursting into lethal fragments. An estimated 95 percent of the deaths at Verdun were from artillery shrapnel. Shells were fired from as far away as nine miles, with poor accuracy. Death by enemy fire was commonplace…as was death by friendly fire.
Today, soft, forested lands hide the memories of World War I’s longest battle. It’s difficult to imagine today’s lush terrain as it was just a few generations ago: a gray, treeless, crater-filled landscape, smothered in mud and littered with shattered weaponry and body parts as far as the eye could see. But as you visit, it’s good to try.
If you can’t see the video below, watch it on YouTube.
Those visiting Alsace’s Wine Road (Route du Vin) make a point to try the local wines. And local vintners offer a warm, and liquid, welcome. Here in Eguisheim, my guide, Jean-Claude Werner (another good French/German name in this region where the two cultures have for centuries overlapped), takes me into the cellar of the Emile Beyer winery. Emerging from the fragrant cellar, I’m happily ambushed by enthusiastic travelers who, like me, were sampling wine at Emile Beyer because of our France guidebook.
If you can’t see the video below, watch it on YouTube.
