Fontainebleu and The Mayor of Rue de Buci

We hopped on a morning train for the 30 minute trip out of Paris to Fontainebleu to see the palace.  The train drops you off on the edge of charming little town (Fontainebleu) and you hop on a bus that takes you closer to the main attraction.  You could probably walk, but we were saving our energy.  The place is massive.  Versailles massive.  1500 rooms massive.  Oddly, it's in downtown Fontainebleu. 

Take note of the massive crowd behind Terry.  This is the last we saw of them.

We usually opt for the audioguide at places like this.  While you could probably wander about aimlessly, it helped with putting into chronological order all the kings/queens/emperors who lived here over its 700 year stretch as a home.  The tour of the palace includes all the ceremonial rooms, private apartments of the royals, the chapels and, usually, the papal apartment (one should have a papal apartment in one's home).  Much of the palace's furniture survives.

This is not the ballroom.  THIS is:

This is the last time (almost) that we saw other visitors. Napoleon figures heavily here and he is responsible for returning furnishings to the palace for his crowning as emperor.

The room with the stools is the ladies' game room.  It is not set up for musical chairs.  Apparently, Marie Antoinette loved bingo.  This is not something that I have mis-translated, but something that I am quoting from the audioguide.  B-7!

Sure, you're probably noticing the splendor of the chapel.  What you SHOULD be noticing, however, is the young couple wearing 'period costumes' with their Nike tennis shoes.  They are not docents, but tourists.  Oddly, you are afforded the opportunity to don costumes to wear while touring the palace.  We opted for 'two middle aged guys from the midwest'.  We did not return the costumes when we finished our tour.

We stopped at a small café for mussels and fries before the train ride back to Le Nap.  Naturally, Terry topped off his meal with his usual:

 

Now, about the Mayor of Rue de Buci (our street).  It's a dog.  A bulldog.  Yes, a French bulldog.  The little guy has the run of the neighborhood.  He goes to the boulangerie by himself and gets treats.  He carries around a ball and insists that strangers play catch with him until they have to move on and he finds another playmate.  The other night, after dinner, we encountered The Mayor with a human companion, presumably walking home.  They reached a corner and the human wanted to turn.  The Mayor did not.  A stand-off!  After some reasoning...and I'm talking SERIOUS argument by the human...The Mayor shrugged his shoulders and followed him down the street.  He's already working the crowd on Rue de Buci today.

Last night, we had dinner at Roti en Face, the baby bistro by Jacques Cagna.  Terry had the chestnut potage and the house specialty--rotisserie chicken, while started with a slice of chicken liver terrine (paired with a coconut sauce!) and a yellow pollack and a small mold of paella with miniature shrimp. For dessert--fromage blanc with sour cherries and raspberry coulis for Terry and a Paris-Brest for me.