It was foggy. We were driving through the countryside of Grenoble, and though the cuteness of french villages is undeniable, for some unknown to me reason, a sense of uneasiness wasn’t leaving my body. I couldn’t see the pick of the mountains, and only partially the slope. Everyone seemed to have vanished, as all the streets were empty. I was so eager to see the Vizille Castle, and usually when I’m very excited I become annoyingly impatient, and seconds seem to turn into some infinite unit of time.
Already having arrived to Vizille, I was even more confused not to see the tall towers of the castle. Then an old man approached me and starting talking in French. My French isn’t quite as polished as I would like it to be, so at first I had an auditory shock, but I brought myself together and tried to understand what the man was saying. It turned out he was just surprised to see tourists next to his house (i get that, the street was ridiculously tiny to drive a Smart, not saying an SUV). To my question about the “Chateau de Vizille” he started clapping and literally jumping, giving me the directions. It was really adorable how excited he was that people from somewhere far away came to see the castle in the village.
After a wandering through the small streets with everything closed (Sunday it was!), we turned left and faced the grandiose Chateau from the XVII th century. It was more magnificent than I had imagined, imposing the importance and power of the former Royaume de France, Kingdom of France.