It’s sunset, and the town square is pretty much empty. Wooden doors are locked and peeling blue window shutters closed tight save for one or two cafes serving lunch to a handful of cigarette-smoking and newspaper-reading Frenchmen. For now, my friend Catie and I bask in the tranquility of crisp, smoke-tinged air and the last golden bits of sunlight bouncing off windows and melting into the cobblestone streets. Tomorrow, this tiny corner of France will be transformed into a bustling day market with streets lined full of food and craft stalls when Loches’ population of less than 6,500 comes out of the woodwork each Sunday.
left: a typical street in Loches
Tucked up against the spindly and winding Indre River of central France, Loches is a picture-perfect French town home to a largely aging population complete with a smattering of affluent international students from all over the world. While it may barely be a city, much less one comparable to New York or Paris, after staying there for a mere week during a school trip, I dare say it offers just as much charm, mystery, and addictiveness as the rest of the world’s urban centers. You may not find an Issey Miyake pop-up or a stock exchange in its streets, but Loches contains a plethora of historical sites and natural beauty that many cities simply can’t hold a candle to.
One of the first items on my class's trip itinerary was the Donjon de Loches, or the Loches Keep. Part of the intimidatingly beautiful royal city of Loches, the Keep offers visitors a regal aerial view of the entire city of Loches — if you’re brave enough to climb flights and flights of precariously narrow stairs, that is. When you’re up there, the city falls beneath your feet into a charming patchwork of classically French blue roofs and smoking chimneys. Standing there and seeing all of Loches in a single eyeful is almost meditative; as I watched the ant-sized people roaming below me, I felt as if the entirety of the universe was lying in the palm of my hand and all my problems were no bigger than a cobblestone.
Looking past the city, you catch sight of the sprawling fields and forests beyond the cobbled streets. The forests and the “King’s Meadows” of Loches have an indescribable enchanting quality, as if the trees and grasses have a soul of their own. Flowing through it all is the Indre and her many tributaries, and the constant whisper of flowing water and rustling leaves gives Loches a distinct voice that stayed with me long after I left.
The Loches Farmer's Market
However, Loches is not just a sleepy historic town for the passing French traveler; just like any other city, it is vibrant and full of life, if you catch it at the right time. Every week, the town center comes alive with a farmer’s market that covers every street from end to end selling everything from fresh-baked bread, worldly cuisine, and locally made clothing to discount pornography DVDs, freshly caught fish, and handcrafted jewelry. Within the week we visited, the international school also hosted a large carnival that kept Loches residents partying until the hours of the morning.
During our time in Loches, Catie and I stayed with an affluent widow, Caroline, and the homestay student she was hosting, an Andrea from Madrid who was particularly fond of cigarettes. Over late dinners of home-cooked meals, white wine, and the haze of Caroline and Andrea’s smoking habits, Caroline told us about her grown-up children who had each scattered to different parts of the world and her late husband, who had succumbed to a terminal illness a few years ago. She confessed that she missed having people to look after, and hosting international students quickly became her life. Through Caroline’s eyes, I was able to glean the true healing quality of Loches and its residents -- international students feeling homesick take refuge in the homes of Loches families, and residents like Caroline take comfort in being able to take care of homestay students.
Though I was only a Loches resident for a week, my time there will stay with me even after I lose my memory from old age, and I have a hard time imagining that I’ll find the same simultaneous peace and thrill anywhere else in the world.
Comments