No, that’s not a post card. I’ve seen quite a few Château’s but this was by far one of the most breathtaking. Located only 40km from Paris in the Picardy region, the town of Chantilly (which means whipped cream and is therefore where it was developed by mistake, according to our museum guide) is a charming escape from the bustle and occasional stress of city living. The Château, surrounded by a spectacular moat within a forest, houses the Musée Condé, the 2nd largest museum in France after the Louvre.

The vast, lush gardens date from the 17th century and inspired much of Marie Antoinette’s nook in Versailles. Tucked within the gardens, le Hameau was the go-to destination for visitor’s of the Château to taste the famed whipped cream that gives Reddi Whip a run for its money. Emily and I actually found it to be different than any other whipped cream we’d ever had. It was slightly bitter but tasted almost like thick, unsweetened, melted ice cream. As a fanatic of whipped cream I was surprised to find that it was almost too much, and not just because we were trying it in espresso on a hot day. It was definitely worth the walk through the gardens and the 2.50.

After picnicing in the gardens we needed to find our way to the spiffy hotel we booked for a jam-packed afternoon of laying out by the pool. Since the town is rather small, and the hotel is a golf resort within the forest, set back from everything else, the walk would have been about 5 miles. With the heat, we weren’t really prepared to do that.

So I walked into a brasserie and inquired into nearby taxi stations. Ha! They virtually laughed at me (but didn’t because they were sweet village people). C’est le 15 août, il n’y a pas de taxis…. (It’s the 15th of August there are no taxis…which is a holiday in France), said the patron. A man that must have been in his 70’s was buying a lottery ticket and said, ah, Dolce Chantilly? I’ll take you. Now, maybe this is an exaggerated American fear, but I was immediately visited by an image of Emily and I getting kidnapped and stuffed into a truck and led into the French wildnerness to be tied to trees and forced to listen to Celine Dion speaking Québecois French whilst being fed stale baguette and rotten cheese.

But alas! That didn’t happen. Instead, this cute old man said “don’t worry, my wife is with me”. This adorable Spanish couple was nice enough to drop us off at our “resort” and instill a permanent “awe” look on our faces for a good 30 minutes. The highlight of the 10 minute car ride was when I asked how long they’ve lived in France and the wife said “oh just a little while…… about 40 years”! Too cute.

The hotel was great, the food was nice but the scenery made it all worth the long hike. The first dip in the pool was like a rush of sensations, immediately providing a sense of relief, invigoration and happiness. I guess that’s what happens when you only manage to get into a pool once a year. But just as pumpkin pie tastes infinitely better when you have it infrequently, the same goes for any other kind of activity, like swimming. It’s nice to regress…

Aside from being unable to figure out how to turn the air conditioning on in the room and waking up with a stuffed nose, it was the perfect remedy for a summer-less-summer in Paris.

As for my travel buddy, Emily is likely leaving Paris at the end of September and I wanted to travel with her, regardless of the destination. She’s a great friend, a riot and always up for a long walk and a laugh. If anything, it makes me want to travel with her more. Maybe next time we’ll end up tied to a tree.