On Sisley and silverbeet

When Lynda asked about visiting a nearby town, we hit upon a plan to visit Moret-sur-Loing, an easy trip into the countryside by train.  A medieval village with fortifications and buildings dating from the 12th century, Moret has plenty of charm, but what I really like is that it's still a living town, where tourism is almost an afterthought.  

We had not realized that most of the tourists spots, like the sugar museum, are only open on weekends.  But we enjoyed wandering the narrow streets unencumbered by the throngs of Paris.

Walking along the ancient walls.

Flowers abound in Moret.

Picnicking along the Loing River.

Water power once ran the local sugar mill.

Kevin and I in Sisley's home town.

A lovely spot on our walk.

The scene almost looks like an Impressionist painting.

One of the medieval buildings still in use.

Henry IV installed his mistress in the town and made her the Countess of Moret in 1604.  She contributed t0 the town, setting up a hospital and school, and helping to found a Benedictine Abbey, where the nuns began to make candy from barley sugar in 1638. The abbey is gone, but the candy is still made today from the same recipe. (I sampled it, and it was good!)

A young man at the Tourist Information Office told us that when the Nazis occupied the area, they seized one of the nuns, detecting an accent in her speech. She was Irish, and they imprisoned her.  The next week when the soldiers came to get the candy for their commandant, the nuns told them they could not make the candy, because the sister the Nazis had seized was the only one with the recipe.  It was almost certainly a lie, but the ruse worked: the Irish nun was freed, and the abbey once again made the sweet.

Moret-sur-Loing was a favorite of the Impressionists, and Renoir, Van Gogh, and Sisley painted there. Sisley actually lived--and died--there, and his house still stands. Sadly, like Van Gogh, his work was not really recognized until after his death.

We would have liked to linger longer in Moret, and buy some barley-sugar candy. But we had a train to catch.  Before we set off for the station, nearly a mile away, we caught up with Lynda and John, who were sitting across from a planter box near the Tourist Office.

Do you like silverbeet?," Lynda asked.

I had no idea what she meant, though I later found out later, it is what we call chard. She walked over to the planter, displayed a leaf and almost shrieked in her enthusiasm, "This is Silverbeet, growing right here!  It's really good for you!"

Immediately, we were accosted by a skinny young man in black who asked us to keep our voices down.  He pointed across the street, where a restaurant was sheathed in heavy black drapes, and a few other men stood nervously by.  "We're filming," he explained. (The camera must have been behind the drapes.)

We promised to be quiet (though we giggled as we made our way out of the town, vowing to look for the film, "Belle Famille" ("Beautiful Family") should it appear one day on at our local movie theater. We have no idea who is in it, but we'd love it if we heard "This is silverbeet!" on the audio track.

Kings and mistresses. Artists. Nuns and Nazis. Barley-sugar candy, silverbeet, and movies.  It was quite a day!