The yearly festivals in Provins are a wonderful way to feel transported back to the medieval times of Knights Templar, troubadours and courtly love. I have always felt a strong unexplainable affinity for this period of time.
Their Christmas market made it so easy for me to feel like I had been sucked into a time warp again, or a past life, but certainly I am an easy subject. A light fog that had already settled over Paris before I left, was nothing like the dense cloudiness I ran into on the way to Provins, which is only 70 kilometers southeast from Paris.
Though the drive towards Provins through such thick fog was scary due to reduced visibility, it nevertheless created a perfect hazy veil before throwing me back into time.
This adorable and ancient fortress of a town goes all out to successfully reenact the sounds, smells, and sights Provins offered throughout the middle ages. The marvelous stone wall that encircles the entire village is amazingly intact retaining its impressive fluted design.
Just as I had crossed over the wide moat and through the ancient portal, I was met with colourful dressed knights , obviously under the influence of too much Christmas cheer, who playfully flirted with us.
Soon afterwards, the strong scent of burning log fires brought by a gust of wind tickled my nose. Even 
before I reached the main square I could hear the harps, flutes and mandolins playing their intriguing sounds from long ago.
By then thrones of visitors, some dressed in period costumes made it difficult to navigate through the tiny narrow street leading to the main market square. A tall wrought iron cross dominates the beginning where town folks huddled around the roaring fire that crackled and spit every now and then.
Provins during medieval times was the third most prosperous city in northern France after Paris and Rouen. Set on a promontory, it was previously used by the Romans for military purposes.
The markets held two times a year there were renown throughout Europe during the middle ages and won Provins a significant reputation. For many, it was the best place to buy quality goods from far and wide, that always attracted huge crowds of visitors.
The city’s commercial fame from the fifth to the fifteenth century was so successful and thriving that Provins once had 80,000 inhabitants, a literal showcase of the wealth and power of the Counts of Champagne. Today Provins can only count around 12,000 as the markets
of nearby Paris slowly eroded its once strong financial prominence, yet it is now a premier tourist destination.
This once small prosperous little city had a royal pedigree in that is was controlled and protected by the Counts of Champagne, who dominated a huge portion of Northeast France.
One reason the fairs there were a huge success, was that the Counts of Champagne guaranteed the protection of the hundreds of merchants who came to sell their goods. Likewise buyers could be assured that sellers were regulated to offer quality merchandise at fair prices.
Thieves , much like today, would hang out waiting to steal from the merchants and visitors alike, so there were patrols to assure the safety of all.
Merriment reigned today as much as I guess it did over a 1000 years ago. At the other end of the rectangular main space, gaily dressed troops of male and female dancers were joyously singing while parading hand in hand in circles.
Laughter prevailed as visitors were invited to join in the dance. I 
felt momentarily sad about declining a handsome young 
troubadour, because I wanted to take photographs, or was that only an excuse around my timidity?
Merchants, likewise looking as if they had just stepped out of the middle ages were hawking their goods and wares, from jewelry, middle age clothing, hats, and shoes, period tapestries and carved wooden articles like a lovely candle holder with mirror, soaps and many other things reminiscent
of times long ago.
I was very tempted to buy the pretty lace up dresses and the pointed leather shoes, as I inherently have always liked ancient styles of clothing. But really, where could I wear such lovely wear around Paris without inviting strange looking stares.
The medieval pastries looked very interesting with a lot of ginger, clove or cardamom fillings, but I resisted that too, knowing that I had already started a tiramisu, before I left. Besides I worried if they would be as fresh as I would have wanted. 
I did stop at the stand of a young woman dipping bees wax candles that filled the air with a wonderful aroma. I liked her enthusiasm as she explained her steps and how quality bees wax was becoming harder to obtain.
Since I go through candles like wildfire, I loved the idea of her candles burning over 18 hours without dripping. I couldn’t leave without buying some long ones and the small tea candles.
Huge black cauldrons of soup bubbled away over wood fires, tended by women and men in period dress. I found a good spot near 
them, more for warmth than anything else.
In front of the steaming soup cauldrons were knights with long swords and spears, each trying to shield themselves from their opponents. Loud clanging sounds of metal pierced the air as the swords brutally crossed each other in combat.
To the delight of the children clamouring around to witness this ancient battle, the two opponents hotly jostled each other amongst feigned shrieks of being wounded. With one hitting the ground with a loud thud, the frenzied battle was over, met with massive applause from the admiring crowd.
One last stop for roasted chestnuts, as much to warm my cold hands as well as to eat! Then a small cup of vin chaud to help wash them down.
The sun finally peaked through almost before it set and the scattered clouds in the sky took on pastel hues of pink and gold. It was time to go, out of fear of encountering the same thick fog as we had earlier, especially in light of the darkening skies.
Making our way back we ran into another crowd gathered around to watch a juggler skilfully bouncing around bright red balls. I would have stayed longer, but the thought of driving home , not only in fog, but hitting the heavy Sunday traffic that comes to a snail crawl as you get close to Paris pulled me away.
Walking back out the arched entryway and across the green moat, I caught the few remaining rays of sun reflecting golden hues against that magnificent ancient wall.
Sure enough, after a few kilometers down the country road, the fuzzy greyness of fog had settled again close to the ground so thick that I could not see the road signs. Resigned to a slower return, we proceeded with much caution and prayers for safety.
Once on the main highway, the fog lifted somewhat making visibility a little better. I could have kicked myself for choosing today to come rather than Saturday , though weather reports predicted some afternoon sun over Provins, which indeed came too late to enjoy.
Coming in from the south, I was fully jolted back from my brief time travel as the predictable bottleneck of cars formed around me. From the higher plains of Rungis, that supplied water to the Roman aqueduct that carried water into Paris 2,000 years ago, the glittering Eiffel Tower lit up the sky.
If you have to come home, I can’t think of a more beautiful landmark to welcome me back, nor a more beautiful city to come home to other than Paris.
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Dear Cherry,
Your nostalgic affinity for this period has recalled an old poem by François Villon, French poet of the 16th century
“translated” in modern French by Georges Brassens who set the poem to music
Mais où sont les neiges d’antan?
You will find complete information on http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ballade_des_dames_du_temps_jadis
Dictes moy où, n’en quel pays, Tell me where, in which country
Est Flora, la belle Romaine ; Is Flora, the beautiful Roman;
Archipiada, né Thaïs, Archipiada (Alcibiades?), born Thaïs
Qui fut sa cousine germaine; Who was her first cousin;
Echo, parlant quand bruyt on maine Echo, speaking when one makes noise
Dessus rivière ou sus estan, Over river or on pond,
Qui beauté eut trop plus qu’humaine? Who had a beauty too much more than human?
Mais où sont les neiges d’antan! Oh, where are the snows of yesteryear!
Où est la très sage Heloïs, Where is the very wise Heloise,
Pour qui fut chastré et puis moyne For whom was castrated, and then (made) a monk,
Pierre Esbaillart à Sainct-Denys? Pierre Esbaillart (Abelard) in Saint-Denis ?
Pour son amour eut cest essoyne. For his love he suffered this sentence.
Semblablement, où est la royne Similarly, where is the Queen (Marguerite de Bourgogne)
Qui commanda que Buridan Who ordered that Buridan
Fust jetté en ung sac en Seine? Be thrown in a sack into the Seine?
Mais où sont les neiges d’antan! Oh, where are the snows of yesteryear!
La royne Blanche comme ung lys, The queen Blanche (white) as a lily (Blanche de Castille)
Qui chantoit à voix de sereine; Who sang with a Siren’s voice;
Berthe au grand pied, Bietris, Allys; Bertha of the Big Foot, Beatrix, Aelis;
Harembourges qui tint le Mayne, Erembourge who ruled over the Maine,
Et Jehanne, la bonne Lorraine, And Joan (Joan of Arc), the good (woman from) Lorraine
Qu’Anglois bruslerent à Rouen; Whom the English burned in Rouen ;
Où sont-ilz, Vierge souveraine ? Where are they, oh sovereign Virgin?
Mais où sont les neiges d’antan! Oh, where are the snows of yesteryear!
Further, it is good opportunity for my best wishes of a Happy New Year to you, dear Cherry and to all readers of your blog
Kindly
Georges
Thank you so much George for introducing me to this poignant poem! I am not familiar with the poetry of Francois Villon, but am fascinated by his romanticism! The old French also creates an aura of nostalgia that pulls me back to another time.
I appreciate you taking the time to share this poem as it was written and the english translation.
Will also have to listen to the Georges Brassen version in song.
A very Happy New Year to you too George. May it be filled with health, joy, continued success and love!
Chère Cherry,
merci de vos voeux et je vous réitère les miens. Puisse cette année vous apporter santé, amour et les autres bonnes choses de la vie mais qui sont relativement sans importance sans les deux premières priorités.
Cordialement
Georges
Cher Georges,
Merci pour vos voeux, et je suis complètement d’accord avec vous, que sans la santé et l’amour, les autres sans beaucoup moins d’importance!
Hugs
Happy new year Cherry, you always find fun and interesting places to visit and I like the great photos that you take.
What a wonderful treat to get some roasted Chestnuts as well as the homemade beeswax candles.
A Happy New Year to you too Isham! Hope I will continue to share my adventures for those curious, and heart felt inspirations to help others in 2015! Hugs
I really enjoyed taking this journey with you, Cherry. I found out by accident that your weekly blogs were going to my spam folder and that I was missing them this way because I never properly fixed my settings. Now that is taken care of and I won’t miss any of them, as I miss them by Facebook. Thank you for the education and enjoyment and your experiences that you manage to convey to us. I love traveling with you!
Thank you Pam! It would have been fun to have you along! Looking forward to you coming here in the future! Hugs
I really enjoyed taking this journey with you, Cherry. I found out by accident that your weekly blogs were going to my spam folder and that I was missing them this way because I never properly fixed my settings. Now that is taken care of and I won’t miss any of them, as I miss them by Facebook. Thank you for the education and your experiences that you manage to convey to us. I love traveling with you!
Hi Cherry. Best wishes to you for a happy and fruitful year. May you continue to enjoy your life if Paris. I have a new neighbor, a young 40ish Frech lady from the Bordeaux area; and I enjoy her talks about her life in France. Over the holidays, her best friend fraom Austria has been visiting with her also. She mentioned that they have a tremendous number of towns with old castles and fortresses in Austria. She did complain about the foggy and overcast winters that they have to endure. While the rest of the U.S. has been suffering through sub zero Artic winter blasts, we in south Florida have been enjoying temperatures ranging from the low 79s to the mid eithies . . . . perfect weather for enjoying our beautiful beaches. With the second Artic blast on the way; they say that our temperatures will drop to the mid 60s for a few days; then it will warm up as it always does.
Perhaps this next year will be the long awaited year when June and I make a trip to Europe to see the sights that you describe so well in your blogs. Best wishes for the new year.
A healthy and fruitful year to you David! I do hope you and June will make your dream trip soon! I am good at being patient, but with traveling, it is always better to do it when you can health wise. Don’t risk waiting too long to fulfil your dreams!
In the meantime, enjoy south Florida’s perfect weather and her beautiful beaches! Hugs