An outing

On Friday, we traded in the loaner because our "new" car was ready, and off we went on the first of what hopefully will be many little day trips this year. We headed to Chateau de Goulaine, just over an hour away. Why there, when the number of chateaux within reasonable driving distance numbers in the many hundreds? Because it houses a butterfly aviary, of course! One William Henry James has been obsessed with butterflies for a year now. He has added "j'aime les papillons" to his tiny French vocabulary.

The moat and marshy area around the castle was brilliant green, being topped with the thinnest layer of algae. Throwing pebbles in was fun, as a little circle of black would open up then zip closed again in a split second. The picture below isn't great, but ducks were paddling along with their heads down, beaks wide open—eating away as they lazily paddled. So funny! We imagined it would be like swimming in a chocolate river for us.  :)


In the castle itself, we could only go through four rooms, and only as part of a tour, and of course the tour was in French. But with the help of a small English guidebook, we understand that the place is nearly 1000 years old and has been inhabited by members of the Goulaine family almost that entire time (yes, still today). At various times, the family operated somewhat as peace brokers between the various kingdoms nearby.


Onsite there also is a museum about LU cookies and biscuits, which have been a staple on French shop shelves since the late 1800s (not to mention elsewhere in Europe, although I think now they're owned by Nabisco, officially). The company has a century long tradition of hiring great artists to paint pictures for their packaging and advertising, and the museum was full of this art—which ranged from cute illustrations to rather grand paintings.

Here is their iconic "The Little Schoolboy" — alongside a less iconic rendition of our own slightly bigger schoolboy!


Of course the butterflies were the main attraction. It's a wonder I sought out this destination given my quasi-phobia of flappy things. Spending time in a hot, humid, wing-filled enclosure is the stuff of my nightmares...  But I pulled it together because, well, the sacrifice of motherhood, blah, blah, blah. And I have to admit that the butterflies really were wonderful (as long as they stayed still!). There were hundreds in there, some as much as 8 inches across and quite exotic.

 

Signs everywhere admonished against touching the butterflies, although it was fine if they landed on you of their own volition. (But: not okay if they landed on me personally—perish the thought! I stayed in perpetual motion as a deterrent...)

Poor William. Our resident butterfly-adorer. He was so good about not chasing or capturing the butterflies (tears were shed and a tantrum was initiated over this limitation as we prepared him the previous day), but we couldn't for the life of us get a butterfly to flutter onto him. He was desperate. They landed on Jesse and Josiah several times, tried to land on me (gah!) more than once, but no dice for William. 

He stayed stock still for AGES. Jesse and Josiah's expressions here perhaps convey just how long we waited in that hot, tropical room... 

At the point of the photo below, we'd positioned him practically inside a flowering shrub and had rubbed flowers all over his clothes and hair! Even other visitors were waiting with bated breath, each of us mentally urging and willing the crazy creatures to land on the poor child. We'd hold our breath when one would come close, then let out a collective sigh of exasperation when it fluttered past. 

Eventually I exited the room, having long surpassed my limit of heat, humidity, and wings. Jesse stayed on with him another 15 minutes or so, until—hooray!—it happened.  :)  But no photo.

In the end, I think it's safe to say that a grand time was had by all. We look forward to many more chateaux in our future!