The Compiegne Forest: 60 km north of Paris

The Compiegne Forest, 60Km North of Paris

Posted on April 4 2006 by Englebert Norris

I parked the lorry in the company's Paris depot and after being on the road for three days I needed some peace and quiet. I couldn't face the whole Paris sightseeing thing and yet more noise, fumes and irate people so I asked Marie-Claire in the office where she went to get away from it all. She suggested the Compiègne Forest and offered to drive me there and show me around. How could I refuse?

We collected a couple of mates and reached the forest in just over an hour. It's located 60 km north of Paris, covers an area of roughly 16,000 hectares (approx. 40,000 acres) and consists of thick clusters of oak and beech trees with numerous clearings, shady glades and some rough pasture.

Marie-Claire explained that when summer draws to a close the bright greens of the forest are transformed into autumnal golds, reds and browns, and that the area is remarkably beautiful in those last few weeks before the trees lose their leaves, winter sets in and the landscape becomes eerie and desolate.

The Compiègne Forest was the scene of fierce fighting during the Second World War. We hired some bikes and cycled past the rail carriage where in 1940 Marshal Petain signed the French capitulation; the Germans had surrendered to the French in exactly the same carriage 22 years earlier. Apparently Hitler wanted to make a point.

The area is also famous as the place where Joan of Arc was captured having been betrayed by the Dauphin while attempting to drive the English out of France.

Forest Legends

The locals will tell you that the depths of the forest are haunted and that a monstrous serpent hangs from the trees and devours travellers who stray from the woodland paths. Although I don't believe everything I'm told I have to confess that the place can be a little creepy. As we cycled along the forest paths, I often felt the stare of sharp, anxious eyes and heard the faint rustle of leaves and the kick of hooves. Thankfully it always turned out to be a frightened deer making its escape. By contrast the big black crows weren't at all scared of us; they just perched in the treetops and stared like little demons.

It's not quite Blair Witch territory but it's easy to imagine how you might panic and break into a bit of a sweat if you ended up losing your way as dusk set in!

The Compiègne Forest has apparently been a hunting ground for centuries. The Kings of France and their huge entourages used to slaughter game in these parts and nowadays Parisian bankers, lawyers and stockbrokers continue the tradition. We met a bunch of these charmers taking pot shots at some little birds in the trees. Marie-Claire asked some chubby banker how he would feel if a hooray henry shot him up the posterior. At least I think that's what she said but it's hard to follow a passionate woman, jabbing her finger and making faces. I attempted to calm the situation with some choice memorised phrases from my linguaphone tapes. That seemed to calm the situation; everyone looked confused as though they had finally realised the futility of hostile aggression and we continued peacefully on our way.

Château de Pierrefonds

Marie-Claire led us along a 14 km path which started at Compeigne, avoided all the steep inclines but nevertheless took us through the depths of the forest before emerging at the picturesque clearing of Saint Jean-aux-Bois. This is a charming, little woodland hamlet where Joan of Arc used to hang out and one of the village elders told us how her spirit still haunts the surrounding woods and will return to save France in the hour of her greatest need.

I was so fascinated by this little nugget of local folklore that I asked why Joan hadn't returned when Adolf forced the French to surrender in the rail carriage we'd passed a few kilometres back. She didn't seem to understand me and possibly I used the subjunctive instead of the third person plural or something of the sort. Later Marie-Claire explained that I should address senior citizens using "vous" instead of "tu". That may explain why the old lady glared at me like one of those crows in the trees.

There's a lovely old 7^th century stone church at St.Jean-aux-Bois. The perfect place to stop for a picnic before continuing to the Château de Pierrefonds, a former residence of the Emperor Napoleon III

The original Château dates from the 14^th century but was a pile of rubble before Napoleon III (Bonaparte's nephew) rebuilt it as a magnificent gothic folly with fairy tale towers and fictitious battlements. Really it looks like something out of Disneyland. Apparently it's famous for its hideous gargoyles and if you've got kids they'll love poking these ugly sculptures. I couldn't help putting my baseball cap the wrong way round on one repulsive beast which looked like a pelican with a lion's head. This set everybody laughing except a rather stern old biddy who muttered something under her breath and scowled when I smiled and wished her a "bonne journee".

The château houses a worthy exhibition which describes how the former ruins were transformed into a splendid stately home, but the rest of the rooms are sparsely furnished. Still its worth a visit just to see the huge ballroom which was formerly used for state banquets and which remains hauntingly grand despite having been virtually gutted.

Later we had a drink in the grounds before cycling back to Compeigne. Altogether an entirely pleasant day. In fact I'm hoping Marie-Claude will take me on another trip the next time I park my truck at the Paris depot.

Why not visit the tourist information office at the Place de de Ville, 60200 Compiègne ?