For Amélie Nothomb, approaching Vierzon is first and foremost surviving its train station: a stop that feels like an endurance test of the inner self. At fourteen, Le Grand Meaulnes promised her enchantment; now a published writer in Paris, she finds herself dispatched to Brive on the famous cholesterol train, on the Paris-Austerlitz–Brive-la-Gaillarde line, with the inevitable stop at Vierzon. After dozens of passages, two frozen minutes each time, without ever setting foot on the platform, a strange familiarity has settled in: a tenacious void, almost metaphysical. To know or not to know? Here, the simple pause is enough to shake one’s certainties.
In the manner of a mischievous travel diary, this article traces the mixed attraction and aversion of Amélie Nothomb for Vierzon: a city discovered in the pages of Le Grand Meaulnes, later brushed by the famous cholesterol train on the Paris-Austerlitz – Brive-la-Gaillarde line. Between two-minute stops, the feeling of emptiness at the platform, and the rhetoric of “to know or not to know,” the train station becomes a theater where one hesitates to disembark. In contrast, some beautiful escapes in Cher and Loir-et-Cher offer bright alternatives to the obsession with this platform.
Prelude to a thwarted fascination
I humbly ask the Vierzonnais for all their grace: every time my train comes to a halt at the station, I feel a dizziness close to cosmic emptiness. There, in the crackle of the rails and the smell of brakes, is a silence that swallows thoughts. The moment lasts little—a sigh, two minutes—but it possesses the density of an eclipse. And here I am, nose pressed to the window, telling myself that touching Vierzon requires this stop, that it is precisely this stop that eludes me.
The promise of a book
At fourteen, upon discovering Le Grand Meaulnes, I understood that the name Vierzon sounded like the door to an adjacent world, neighboring a wonderful romanticism. How could one not project enchantments onto a city first encountered in literature? Vierzon and I were engaged in an imaginary pact, sealed under the sign of a feverish adolescence.
First approach by rail
Later, when Paris had published me, I received a ticket for the Book Fair in Brive. I boarded the famous cholesterol train, this gastronomic procession on rails where butter seems to be treated as fuel. First noteworthy stop: Vierzon. The name reappeared, sonorous, almost theatrical, and this time the reality had platforms, signs, travelers—but no disembarkation for me. Already, temptation and resistance were dancing a tango.
Sixty-six suspensions of time
As the years went by, I accumulated a good sixty round trips on the Paris-Austerlitz – Brive-la-Gaillarde line. A sordid and poetic addition: that makes sixty-six stops at Vierzon. I have never set foot there, but with a short stop each time, I feel connected to the place through a series of compressed moments. Two minutes is little; repeated, it becomes a dialect. I dare say that I have a conversation in dotted lines with this train station.
The station, a laboratory of paradoxes
What is more offensive: to ignore a city or to glance over it through a window? In the heart of a quarrel, is it better to know to judge, or to remain silent and pass by? In Vierzon, philosophy sneaks between two whistle blasts. I have not disembarked there, and yet I dread and seek this brief stop as one would approach a memory that bites.
Nippon Parenthesis
To those who love stationary travels, I slip in a knowing recommendation: the work dedicated to eternal Japan, by Amélie Nothomb and Laureline Amanieux, is a ticket without stamping to other stations of the mind. One savors the art of stopping, otherwise.
Mapping escapes around Vierzon
If the station intimidates me, the territory entices me. Just steps away, the Cher reveals gentle relieves and wines eager to confide. For an immersion that is both bucolic and flavorful, one can take a trip to the Sancerrois, for an exploration between hills and villages of Cher: a panorama of ridges, scents of warm stone, and whites that sing in the glass.
Experiences that change the game
Want to break the monotony of the platforms? Why not try unexpected moments, from canoeing at dawn to night markets? Ideas can be gleaned from these surprising animations and experiences for unforgettable vacations, to prove that surprise does not need a whistle to manifest itself.
Twelve steps to tame the surroundings
Just a few rail strides away, Bourges and its surroundings compose a circle of places not to be missed. Cathedral, marshes, alleys perfect for getting lost methodically: a circuit to pick from the 12 must-visit places around Bourges. Here is enough to swap the immobility of the carriage for the delightful wandering of cobblestones.
Pocket fortress, grand stories
To cultivate the art of stopping without remaining on the platform, I love the idea of a village that holds its secrets between ramparts. A hint? The secrets of a fortified village in Loir-et-Cher: a mini-medieval odyssey, a great provision of imagination. Another way of saying that the world begins where curiosity takes root.
The final twirl of the platform
There remains this charming paradox: to “reach” Vierzon, one must stop there. And it is precisely this stop that appears to me as a trial, a small asceticism, a bravado that I postpone to next time. Perhaps one day I will disembark, if only to experience this void that intrigues me so much. In the meantime, I tighten my bag, listen to the screeching of the brakes, and let the station take care of missing me already.
