Post by kerouac on Aug 21, 2013 13:49:38 GMT -5
Recently while channel surfing, I came across the Doctor Who episode about Vincent Van Gogh. Obviously I have seen it before, and it happens to be one of my absolute favourite episodes, so I was rooted to the spot from start to finish.
For anybody unfamiliar with Doctor Who or even just this episode, this little review and clip should tell you everything you need to know.
So this morning I decided that it was time to return to Auvers-sur-Oise after a 42 year hiatus. I biked to Gare du Nord and had to pierce the longest Eurostar check-in queue that I have ever seen.
I'm thinking that they probably had a "suspicious baggage" problem and had closed off the departure lounges until the bomb squad had done their job.
There are no direct trains to Auvers-sur-Oise during the week, but there are two ways to connect to the line that serves it -- through Pontoise or through Persan Beaumont. Since there was a train about to leave going to Persan Beaumont, that's the one I took. I remain in admiration of the new air conditioned commuter trains and their colourful but not over-the-top decor.
Once you get towards the end of the line, the stations are out in the fields.
In Persan Beaumont, it was time to get on one of the old hot trains.
The other train was back on its way to Paris.
But about 20 minutes later, I arrived in Auvers.
The tunnel under the tracks is an exuberant if not well executed tribute to the art of Van Gogh.
And then I had to choose where to go first.
The small Parc Van Gogh had a sculpture of the painter by Belrusian artist Zadkine.
The main street of Auvers seemed quite ordinary.
The covered market was not super active in July.
It actually contains the town's pride and joy, a super duper audiovisual attraction about Van Gogh and Impressionism, but I was just not in the mood to coop myself up in a château on a day like this. I will go back some time on a cold and dreary day.
Leaving the château, I walked towards Van Gogh's final lodging.
The people of Auvers like to hide.
There was almost an overabundance of directional signs.
Photography of Vincent's room, where he stayed for 70 days and in which he died, was forbidden. It was tiny and empty. All of the people who complain about the size of Parisian hotel rooms would stop complaining if they saw this one. He did not paint in it, because it was forbidden, so he carried all of his stuff out to the fields every day. He painted 80 paintings during those 70 days.
He apparently shot himself in the fields but managed to walk back to his room where he died after 30 hours. The inn only had 7 rooms but that one was locked up for years since obviously nobody wants to stay in a room where somebody has died.
He had a crummy room in the back with just a roof window, so you can't even see that from the street.
My next destination was the church. The market still sold the latest Auvers fashions.
There are quite a few restaurants in town.
Ah, here are the steps up to the church...
It's a modest little place, obviously.
It is highly doubtful that this is the original painting.
Okay, 2 minutes was enough... back out the door.
And then I was on my way back to Paris, via Pontoise this time. Thank you, Vincent for all of your paintings. Thank you, Theo for trying to take care of Vincent. Thank you, Dr. Who for sending me to Auvers-sur-Oise for the morning.
For anybody unfamiliar with Doctor Who or even just this episode, this little review and clip should tell you everything you need to know.
So this morning I decided that it was time to return to Auvers-sur-Oise after a 42 year hiatus. I biked to Gare du Nord and had to pierce the longest Eurostar check-in queue that I have ever seen.
I'm thinking that they probably had a "suspicious baggage" problem and had closed off the departure lounges until the bomb squad had done their job.
There are no direct trains to Auvers-sur-Oise during the week, but there are two ways to connect to the line that serves it -- through Pontoise or through Persan Beaumont. Since there was a train about to leave going to Persan Beaumont, that's the one I took. I remain in admiration of the new air conditioned commuter trains and their colourful but not over-the-top decor.
Once you get towards the end of the line, the stations are out in the fields.
In Persan Beaumont, it was time to get on one of the old hot trains.
The other train was back on its way to Paris.
But about 20 minutes later, I arrived in Auvers.
The tunnel under the tracks is an exuberant if not well executed tribute to the art of Van Gogh.
And then I had to choose where to go first.
The small Parc Van Gogh had a sculpture of the painter by Belrusian artist Zadkine.
The main street of Auvers seemed quite ordinary.
The covered market was not super active in July.
I took a couple of pictures of the Auvers town hall but oddly enough, I was not even familiar with Vincent's painting of it.
Even the smallest town in France now has a Japanese restaurant.
I walked to the château in which I had no interest.
Even the smallest town in France now has a Japanese restaurant.
I walked to the château in which I had no interest.
It actually contains the town's pride and joy, a super duper audiovisual attraction about Van Gogh and Impressionism, but I was just not in the mood to coop myself up in a château on a day like this. I will go back some time on a cold and dreary day.
Leaving the château, I walked towards Van Gogh's final lodging.
The people of Auvers like to hide.
There was almost an overabundance of directional signs.
The Auberge Ravoux, where Vincent was living is now a private museum. There is a wall of panels in French, English and Japanese.
The downstairs restaurant has been restored to its original look.
The downstairs restaurant has been restored to its original look.
Photography of Vincent's room, where he stayed for 70 days and in which he died, was forbidden. It was tiny and empty. All of the people who complain about the size of Parisian hotel rooms would stop complaining if they saw this one. He did not paint in it, because it was forbidden, so he carried all of his stuff out to the fields every day. He painted 80 paintings during those 70 days.
He apparently shot himself in the fields but managed to walk back to his room where he died after 30 hours. The inn only had 7 rooms but that one was locked up for years since obviously nobody wants to stay in a room where somebody has died.
He had a crummy room in the back with just a roof window, so you can't even see that from the street.
My next destination was the church. The market still sold the latest Auvers fashions.
There are quite a few restaurants in town.
Ah, here are the steps up to the church...
It's a modest little place, obviously.
It is highly doubtful that this is the original painting.
Okay, 2 minutes was enough... back out the door.
I just could not get rid of the Japanese who were determined to spoil my picture! 
I decided that if I visited the cemetery, they would be gone when I got back.
And so here are Vincent and Theo, age 37 and age 34.
Seeing this really moved me.
The tombs were just ordinary, against the side wall of an ordinary cemetery... but still!
The Japanese were gone.
I didn't need the signpost with the painting in my picture.
That was pretty much all I needed to see in Auvers.
Auvers tries to boast about other local artists.
If anybody wants to see Vincent's birthplace, it's only 396 kilometers.
Oh, I should at least see the Oise river on the other side of the tracks.
Luckily, that's the train going in the other direction.
The river is very close.
The church haunts me because of the painting.
Back at the station.
The tunnel paintings need to be "admired" again.
You can even see the church from the platform.
I decided that if I visited the cemetery, they would be gone when I got back.
And so here are Vincent and Theo, age 37 and age 34.
Seeing this really moved me.
The tombs were just ordinary, against the side wall of an ordinary cemetery... but still!
The Japanese were gone.
I didn't need the signpost with the painting in my picture.
That was pretty much all I needed to see in Auvers.
Auvers tries to boast about other local artists.
If anybody wants to see Vincent's birthplace, it's only 396 kilometers.
Oh, I should at least see the Oise river on the other side of the tracks.
Luckily, that's the train going in the other direction.
The river is very close.
The church haunts me because of the painting.
Back at the station.
The tunnel paintings need to be "admired" again.
You can even see the church from the platform.
And then I was on my way back to Paris, via Pontoise this time. Thank you, Vincent for all of your paintings. Thank you, Theo for trying to take care of Vincent. Thank you, Dr. Who for sending me to Auvers-sur-Oise for the morning.
Let the riot begin! LOL - 
hahahha