WEEKEND IN DOURDAN

"Where the heck is that?" You must be thinking!...
Well, just about 50 kilometers South of Paris. It's a cute, tidy, old and well kept French village named Dourdan.
Once upon a time, the well travelled Ladyjo had been sitting in here town with no money in her pocket and with serious urge to get out of the place. Weeks of stillness after being on the road for a while was too much.
She couched surfed for sometime, hung out not doing much, read, walked the streets she used to know... But, things seemed to have changed. Shops had shut down, new ones had opened, bus stops had changed location and bus numbers also had rotated. If the syndrom of persecution inhabited her, she would say it was all made just to confuse her in order for her not to recognise the place she left... But no! There is no cosmic conspiration, things had just changed and people had moved on.
The person subletting Ladyjo's flat moved out and she got her home sweet home back. Numbed she was once she returned to the bricks and concrete she had been living in for a few years... a back to naught feeling arises .... and now what?
Her Panama hat is tired and all mashed up but her nearly soleless shoes and her soul are only crying out for one thing.... hit the road JO!
The sound of her vintage black bakelite telephone rings and her old friend Sandrine speaks up as she unhooks it....
"Hey Jo! You wanna join on a road trip to Paris?"
Well, I guess you know the answer. Yes, a few minutes later she is packing a bag and "I'm on the road again" plays in her mind as she is gathering her things.
The local train takes her to Nyon where she meets up with her friend and they hop inthe car heading to the French Jura.
Up, up, up they go! It's June but up in the mountain there is still snow on the ground and amongst it the finest and cutest flowers... funny season!
The journey lasted about six hours, rolling through pine forests, descending the mountains to finally end up cruising through fields and flat landscapes where not even a hill was in sight.
Just before nightfall, turned of the main road to drive through a beautifull old romanesque village. Small stone houses lined up beside each other, all with their unique style and pretty gated in gardens.
Now, which one is the one Jo is staying in?
Down the road, passed the wood a lovely modest gate appears, Sandrine hops out and opens it and in they go.
Whaow!!! The house is one of a kind! It's the Parisian area but the house is suprisingly Breton style.
 It looks tiny from the outside but has more space than you can imagine inside.
It turns out that Jo's friend is the gran niece of a pretty famous French painter and the house used to be his workshop.... the living room has a glass roof to enable the mandatory precious Nothern light for painting. The atmosphere is exquisite. The weekend is spent digging, moving, sunbathing, reading, writting, cooking, laughing. The only ingredients needed for the soul to be fed and the free spirits to blossom.
Saturday afternoon, being so close to the capital, Jo and her friend decided to train it into town. The city is really quite, thankfully. Most stores are closed and Parisians have fled the city seeking tranquility.. but it's actually probably the best time to have stayed.
The girls strolld though the Marais a beautiful old quarter filled with designers boutiques, vintage stores, romantic terrasses.
Mmmm, you would like some adresses and tips?
Hang in there, more is coming soon!
Ladyjo's next stay in Paris is very soon, she will spend enough time there to gather the precious information you need for a nice cheap stay...
And in about 10 days, Jo will spend sometime in Brussels.
Stay tuned!