Saturday, August 01, 2009

Degrés Rabelais

St.-Aignan is built on the left bank of the Cher River. Its château sits high up on a bluff above the the only bridge on the river for miles in each direction. The town itself is built on the river and on the eastern flank of that bluff. Consequently, the town's streets must climb.

At the foot of les degrés Rabelais. That's an insurance agency on the right. "Zéro blah-blah, zéro tracas, MMA."

A few of the town's streets are simply staircases built where the slope was too great for any other type of traffic. These stairs are referred to as degrés, an old word for "steps," on the big tourist maps in town.

The Degrés Rabelais climbs up from the rue Paul-Boncour directly to the collégial church. It's named for the famous French writer François Rabelais who was a native of Chinon, farther west in the Touraine region.


  1. I may be wrong but I was on the impression that baseball, chevalet and apple pie were all American!

  2. I can't type correctly any more! Alas!

  3. Est-ce que Monsieur devient peintre ou artiste durant les mois d'hiver?

    Thank you for the nice pics and history of St-Aignan. I come by every day to learn more

  4. ch(y)m: "I may be wrong but I was on the impression that baseball, chevalet and apple pie were all American!"

    Once again, you make me chuckle :)) I haven't thought of that jingle in years ... wasn't it part of a Chevrolet jingle?


  5. Chevalet? Are you taking up painting? Or will you torture hapless vistors down in the basement? Alternate meaning - "rack", as in dungeon, with big ugly moron giggling as he turns the crank (you'll have to order him as well).

  6. LOL at your comment, CHM!

    I think Walt is getting saw horses, but I thought easel at first also, John H.

  7. I look forward to each post about your town. So beautiful & so well written. Thanks for doing this for your readers. Merci!

  8. chm, hehe! I wondered if someone would make that joke...

    beaver, nope, no painting here.

    judy, yup, Chevrolet it was.

    john, nope, no torture, either. At least I don't define it as torture...

    evelyn, bingo! It's a saw horse for cutting my winter firewood.

    stephen, thanks!


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