Chantilly, France: photographing the Château de Chantilly

Chantilly, France – Blue hour on the castle

I have been wanting to go to Château de Chantilly for long. But I never found the right time : either the people I wanted to go there with weren’t fond of the idea, or I would just have something else to do. In the end, for almost two years, I have never found the time to visit one of France’s most elegant castle.

Yesterday, though, I decided I had to put an end to my procrastination. I went to the SNCF website, found out that there were trains that would go there in 30 minutes only from Gare du Nord and booked one round trip to Chantilly-Gouvieux, which is the closest station to the castle.

The trip was pretty fast. 30 minutes isn’t even enough for me to read more than 30 pages of a pocket book. There were almost only tourists of course in the train. It actually surprised me, though, since I took the train of 4:26 p.m. Not much time left to visit the castle.

At my arrival, I decided to go to the castle taking a path through the woods. This was perfect. After having had to face the dense and quite intimidating crowd at Gare du Nord, and having spent 30 minutes in the train, finding myself in the woods was a relief. I took the time to explore the woods off the beaten track. I wanted to take some pictures.

After an hour or so in the woods (it could have only taken 15 minutes had I not decided to zigzag in the undergrowth), I finally arrived on a large and green clearings, where people were stretching out on the grass and kids were joyfully playing. It definitely felt like summer and holidays. Lovers kissing on the benches, teenagers gathering around one of the fellows playing the guitar… I actually wished I had been part of one of these groups. Happiness is always better when being shared, I guess.

I continued to the castle, which I could see in the far distance. Once I arrived, the place was overcrowded, even at 6 p.m. However, it kept a certain solemnity. It is hard not to be amazed at the perfect harmony of the scenery : the castle and its surrounding gardens and woods perfectly reflect in the calmness of the pool. The architecture of the buliding is pretty much perfect : not as heavy and unadorned as Fontainebleau, yet not as rich and ostentatious as Chambord (though I love this castle). Harmonious is the rightest word that comes to my mind when I try to describe it. Nothing could be changed without altering its perfection.

Since I had come to take pictures of the castle at sunset, which would only occur about 8:30 p.m., I decided to sit in the grass, eat a waffle and finish the book I had brought with me : L’Homme qui rit by Victor Hugo.

I love Victor Hugo, though most of his novels are pretty long to finish and sometimes hard to read. He’s one of the most brilliant novel writers that France has produced. His love of humanity makes me think of what I can find in the writings of the French humanist François Rabelais, but while the latter is a satirist, Hugo’s much more of a poet, with a clear understanding of passions that can ravage our heart and make them shine like a thousand suns in the same time. Reading Hugo sometimes feels like becoming a bit wiser.

Talking about Hugo, before I had finished L’Homme qui rit, my favourite novel by V. Hugo was QuatreVingt-Treize, the poignant story of a struggle between an old Vendéen aristocrat and his young and republican nephew during the Guerres de Vendée, one of the darkest events of the French Revolution era. But I must confess L’Homme qui rit might even be better, though a bit long to start and a bit quick to finish to my tastes : the magnificent love story of Gwynplaine and Dea defeats any writing flaw, and some passages in the book go so much straight to the heart that you end up somehow adoring the pages on which they’re written and the stains from your fallen tears their contain. Indeed, I was so moved that at the end of the book, I couldn’t help sobbing. This had not happened since I finished Norwegian Wood by Murakami. I think it is quite obvious that I advise you to give L’Homme qui rit a try if you happen to read French. I’m pretty sure you won’t regret it.

As I was finishing my book, I also realised that I had not been reading like this, sitting in the grass, for a long time. It’s despairing how we can forget about simple pleasures such as this one sometimes. They make life so much more enjoyable, and they only cost some of your time, which is a precious thing we tend to unconsciously squander, though. Reading a book I like while waiting for the sun to set, how could I better spend my leisure days ?

When I closed the book, the place had become quite empty. Since the gardens close at around 7 p.m., I guess people don’t take the time to wait for the sunset. Too bad for them, but good for me. No matter how wonderful the place is during daytime, it just cannot compare with the magic of what it becomes at sunset. Quietness had replaced bustle, the light was more soothing, and the water had already fallen deep asleep. As the sky was turning dark blue, and the clouds were becoming shadows that looked like long dark silk threads undulating with the last breaths of the sun, the world seemed to stop for a brief moment, and let me capture the magic of being alive and having eyes to see it. I sometimes think that we only live to witness how great the world is, despite all the terrible things we can make of it. These moments fill you with joy and serenity.

I took some photos, and I hope you will like them. I don’t feel they do justice to the moment I witnessed, but they are enough to make me remember what a wonderful day and magic sunset I had in Chantilly. If you happen to visit Chantilly someday, I strongly advise you to stay later than the usual tourist, take your time and a good book, and wait for the place to show you its magic as the sun is setting and the moon rising.

Chantilly, France – Dreamy vision as the night was falling

Chantilly, France – Last sunbeams of the day on the castle