French 101: Bourges

My wife and I drove north toward Bourges, in central France, early in the fall, near the end of a three-week train-and-car trip that had taken us from Paris to Normandy, Brittany, Bordeaux and the Dordogne region. We would finish in the Loire Valley. We were looking forward to Bourges because of its 13th century cathedral--the stained glass is second only to that of Chartres, in connoisseurs’ estimation--but we felt a trace of apprehension too.

Phyllis and I love France, and we’ve found the French to be charming and hospitable. But after they’ve been battered for months by waves of tourists, the people in some parts of France acquire a shell that all the goodwill in the world can’t penetrate. We had run up against it occasionally in Paris, at the start of our trip, and again in the picturesque Dordogne River valley.

As we approached Bourges, the first signs were not promising. We passed through dour farming villages that seemed to have turned their backs to the road. But then, in the distance across miles of fields, there was the astonishing sight of the cathedral looming up from the flat horizon, like a ship that has strayed far from the ocean.

We had been staying in small towns whenever possible, but the only town outside Bourges with a hotel listed in the Michelin Red Guide was as gloomy as the farm villages, except on a larger scale. So we proceeded into the city, where we discovered that, thanks to the strong dollar and the generally lower prices outside Paris, even the most luxurious hotel was within our reach. But we chose the bargain-priced and more centrally located Le Christina. The Red Guide gave it a rating of “comfortable,” and in our experience with that guide, “comfortable” is usually more than satisfactory, especially for travelers who expect to be in their room only to sleep.

Le Christina is no tourist hotel. There are traveling salespeople in France, too, and we had barely checked in when a horde of them besieged the front desk. (Le Christina advertises that each room contains un espace travail --a place to work.)

Unlike their jaded confreres in heavily touristed cities, the hotel’s reception staff actually seemed pleased by our less-than-fluent stabs at their language. Warmed by their smiles, we realized that we were back in the France that we have always enjoyed so much.

The administrative and commercial center of the agricultural Berry region south of the Loire, Bourges also produces Michelin tires and military supplies. Despite occasional industrial upsurges and accompanying population growth (Bourges and its environs are now home to almost 100,000 people), the city’s historic core has survived largely intact.

Bourges’ most celebrated native son was not a royal or an artist or an explorer but an entrepreneur, Jacques Coeur, finance minister to King Charles VII in the 15th century. He dominates his hometown almost as thoroughly as Joan of Arc dominates Rouen, in Normandy. His statue stands facing his imposing palace on Rue Jacques Coeur, and just behind the statue is a restaurant that bears his name.

Coeur, a prototypical Renaissance capitalist, accumulated great wealth and power through trade in the Mediterranean. Like poor Joan but in an altogether different way, Coeur came to a bad end: The king threw him in jail for financial irregularities in 1451 and seized his palatial home just as it was being finished. Coeur escaped from prison and fled to Rome, dying in 1456 while on an errand for the pope. The flamboyant palace accounts for Coeur’s being remembered so well in Bourges today: He bought a measure of immortality by building on an extravagant scale, just as American moguls did when they built great houses in places like Newport, R.I., and San Simeon.

Restaurant Jacques Coeur was not as venerable as the palace, but it appeared to have been around for decades, unchanged. It was a classic French provincial space, in an old ivy-covered building, and its customers seemed all to be local. A foreign diner can feel almost irrelevant is such places--and in France that is not a bad thing because the chefs and servers are adhering to higher standards than any you would be likely to impose.

Phyllis and I dined from a menu --what Americans call a prix fixe menu--that included relatively simple but expertly prepared dishes: fresh mackerel in white wine sauce, smoked duck, salmon with chives, with a bottle of local Quincy, a dry white wine.

After dinner we meandered through the twisting streets in the medieval city center. Bourges is quiet in the evening--there is no mistaking it for, say, Madrid--but as in many smallish European cities, its darkness is soothing rather than menacing.

Our room in Le Christina was spacious and comfortable, and it felt very French, thanks not just to non-American niceties like the bidet but also to the very energetic flowered wallpaper.

Bourges’ main tourist attraction is the Cathedrale St.-Etienne (St. Stephen). Begun more than 800 years ago, it is a marvel, rivaling Notre Dame and Chartres in splendor. Impressive as it is from the outside, with ranks of doubled flying buttresses, handsome mismatched towers and five magnificent arched portals on its western face, it’s the interior that lifts the heart. St.-Etienne is the widest cathedral in France, but its height is what you notice. The stone soars from ranks of pillars along each side of the nave toward the complex vaults overhead. Thanks to the paucity of tourists, it’s even possible, when you sit in the cathedral’s cool vastness, to feel yourself in a church rather than lost in some medieval theme park. And the stained glass lives up to its billing.

Still pleasantly aglow from our visit to the cathedral, we crossed the square outside to the city’s tourist office, where we reaped more benefits from Bourges’ relatively modest standing as a tourist magnet. The young women behind the counter, several of them speaking English reasonably well, were genuinely warm and helpful. There was no sign of that shell we had encountered in Paris and the Dordogne.

Bourges is a very old town--Celts settled the place more than 2,000 years ago--but its strongest appeal is not historical. Bourges falls in the same category as some other mid-sized cities we’ve visited in Europe; Trier, Germany, and Verona, Italy, come to mind. These are compact, attractive cities that encourage leisurely strolls. Because their tourist sights are not killer attractions, you can spend your time walking the city and getting a sense of its daily life without the nagging worry that you really should be looking at something more important.

When you devote a few days to wandering in a town like Bourges, you develop a feeling for its rhythms and textures, which are very different from those of most American cities. Even though France has been infected by too many of the diseases of modernity--the ubiquitous McDonald’s, the supermarches --there is still a strong sense, in the centers of its cities, of life lived on foot and savored day by day, in constant and highly civilized intercourse with one’s fellow human beings.

Many streets lined with half-timbered houses from the 15th and 16th centuries run through Bourges’ center. Several are for pedestrians only, more for the convenience of shoppers than for tourists. At least it’s hard to imagine that many foreigners are attracted to stores like the one devoted to high-class, high-priced (about $7) French comic books.

We walked a little north of the center of town, toward the train station, for lunch at L’Abbaye Saint-Ambroix, in Bourges’ premier hotel, the Hotel de Bourbon.

Like the cathedral, the restaurant is a place that lifts your spirits, and in a not entirely dissimilar way, thanks to the dining room: The ceiling is four stories high, and the walls incorporate the remains of a 17th century abbey chapel. That the food would be wonderful--L’Abbaye is Bourges’ only restaurant with a Michelin star--seemed appropriate.

Phyllis and I ordered from the menu affaires (the business lunch), which came with a glass of wine and coffee. Conveniently, we had two choices for each of the three courses, plus cheese, so we tasted everything on the menu that day.

L’Abbaye’s dishes were considerably more elaborate than those we’d enjoyed the night before. We had to pull out our pocket French dictionary to parse the detailed descriptions of such dishes as the rabbit leg rubbed with cinnamon and juniper, and the tart of endive caramelized in honey and brown butter, and the pumpkin mousseline that accompanied the cod.

What was true of hotel rates held true at lunch as well: the bill for our truly luxurious lunch totaled 550 francs, or about $75.

After lunch we stumbled onto one of Bourges’ most arresting sights, the Pres-Fichaux gardens across the street from the hotel. In these gardens from the 1920s, the French love of rationality and order is expressed in every detail, not just in elaborate Art Deco topiary hedges (yews shaped into arches) but also in tall topiary trees. The effect was not at all off-putting. This was the way such plants would grow on their own, we thought, were they just a bit more sophisticated.

Later that afternoon we returned to Bourges’ other big-deal attraction, the Palais Jacques Coeur. Visitors may reasonably wonder whether a guided tour, the only way you can see the palace, is worth the money (about $5). Acclaimed as a rare example of a late Gothic domestic building, the palace was architecturally innovative, notably in its sanitation arrangements, but the furnishings are skimpy, and the tour guides speak only in French. Anglophones get written descriptions of each room.

When we left the next day, it was, I must admit, with regret at having missed one Bourges attraction that did indeed appear to be a must-see. We walked past it several times, an establishment near Le Christina that was as much a draw for Bourges’ young people as the cathedral was for tourists. It was called La Maison de la Biere--the house of beer. A thriving, Bavarian-style beer hall, smack in the middle of the land of wine, and we missed it.

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Guidebook: In the French Heartland

* Getting there: From LAX, restricted round-trip fall fares start at $926 on Air France, Delta, United, American and US Airways.

Bourges is less than three hours from Paris by car (via the A10 and A71 autoroutes) or train (frequent departures from Gare Austerlitz). There is also train service from Tours.* Where to stay: Hotel de Bourbon, Boulevard de la Republique, near the train station; telephone 011-33-2-4870-7000, fax 011-33-2-4870-2122, Internet https://www.alpha-hotellerie.com. A double in this premier hotel runs $80 to $100.

Le Christina, 5 Rue Halle, tel. 011-33-2-4870-5650, fax 011-33-2-4870-5813, is nearer the cathedral and other centrally located attractions. Our double cost $42.

Hotel d’Angleterre, 1 Place de Quatre Piliers, tel. 011-33-2-48 24-6851, fax 011-33-2-4865-2141, https://www.bestwestern.fr, is also conveniently located and reasonably priced;, doubles starting at around $52.

* Where to eat: L’Abbaye Saint-Ambroix in the Hotel de Bourbon (see above) offers an outstanding menu for as little as $35 per person, including wine and coffee.

Restaurant Jacques Coeur, 3 Place Jacques Coeur, local tel. 02-4870-1272, offers a menu for as little as $18.75 without wine.

Le Beauvoir, 1 Ave. Marx Dormoy, tel. 02-4865-4244, an exceptional restaurant just northeast of the city center; dinners start at around $21 without wine.

* Getting around: The city’s Office de Tourisme, across from the cathedral, should be your first stop. It’s open daily, and some members of the friendly staff speak English. Tel. 011-33-2-4823-0260, fax 011-33-2-48 23-0269. The city’s Web site is https://www.ville-bourges.fr.

* For more information: French Government Tourist Office, 9454 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 715, Beverly Hills, CA 90212--2967; tel. (310) 271-6665 or (410) 286-8310 (France-on-Call hotline), fax (310) 276-2835, https://www.francetourism.com.

-- Michael Barrier

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Michael Barrier is a freelance writer in Alexandria, Va.