Embassy Security Man recommended a visit to Barbizon. You reach it from a long smooth cycle path through the Forest of Fontainebleau. He described it as an artists' colony started in the 1930's but I think it had moved on since then.
The past was not lost however. They had decided to capitalise on those by-gone days, by turning this small haven into a tourist destination
So everywhere was pristine. The old stone houses looked like they had been individually cleaned with a toothbrush The many-starred hotel, ostentatiously displaying multi-country flags outside, looked like each room would have a piece of bathroom porcelain to clean every part of your anatomy. Clearly the main, and probably only, occupation in town was to eat, judging by the number of haut-cuisine restaurants.
But the nicest touch was the piped music that followed you along the street. It was a cross between Barry White and Charles As-No-Voice. It ebbed and flowed as you moved up the main street, eventually doing more of the ebbing, thank goodness. A smooth little touch for a smooth little town.
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