As I wrote in my encounter with the edible brick, the Carolo, I visited Charleville-Mezières several weekends ago. Birthplace of Rimbaud, home to a major puppetry festival, an aging population and a parking crisis - I was there for an urban studies project so this is the information you're going to get. But being neither in need of parking nor in possession of an aging population (if you don't count my brain cells), I found Charleville to be quite a charming lens into the everyday goings-on of a small French city. We saw an exhibition of artwork by mentally disabled artists, the puppetry museum's (terrifying) clock giant that puts on an hourly puppet show, the restored Place Ducale, the Meuse River, a tree monster reaching to pluck the moon from the sky...
If you listen carefully, the wind in Charleville goes "Carololololololo..." As do the birds.
Carolololololololo...
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