My heart is a flutter

This is how I feel about my french life......

                                                            my heart is overflowing.

The weeks have flown by and now we only have two more nights to spend in our french home before we start the long journey.   Everyday has been filled with happiness, laughter, good conversation, wonderful friendship, beauty and most of all love.  Picnics have taken over our life, any excuse and the car is packed and off we go out into the countryside to find a perfect spot to enjoy life in the great outdoors.  A feast is prepared with ease, a quiche whipped up here, a potato salad there, a roasted chicken, baguettes, cheese which are soft,  gooey, delicious, smelly and absolutely impossible to resist, wine, a tartlette of fresh fruit, nuts or chocolate and flasks of hot black coffee.

We have discovered wonderful new places to visit, just when we think we have seen it all, something new is just waiting to be unearthed.  

The sun has shone upon us, as we have ventured far and wide, Les Jardins de Marqueyssac will set your heart a flatter, i'm absolutely positive fairy and giants live in this garden, Le Chateau de Castlenaud perched high on the rocky spur over the river, with magnificent views over the Dordogne Valley, if you sit very still and quiet,  i'm sure in the shadows you will see a knight dressed in all his armour wondering around the grounds.  St Antonin Noble home of one of the most beautiful markets I have visited, the scenery alone on route is enough to make the journey worthwhile, but the market is something else, street after pretty street lined with every possible vendor, this really is a complete day out, market in the morning, then lunch in one of cafes which seem to have wisteria covering every possible wall, and then another walk around the city in the afternoon to enjoy the architecture.  Cordes sur ciel (a town in the sky) said to be the first bastide city ever to be built, it clings to the top of the Puech de Mordagne, on a misty morning clouds surround the base of the city and from a distance it appears as if the city is floating in air.   

Soirees fill our evenings with so much laughter, Roger (our French next door neighbour) serenaded us as we sipped chilled rose in the courtyard.  Shared meals last long into the night, candles burning slowly down as the sun begins to rise.  It is only 'a bientot' until next time.  

Will that be one Chateau or two...

With much anticipation we pack our picnic basket for a day out to the Dordogne with Peter and Michelle.  Crusty bread, jambon, comte cheese, salad and if I say so myself perfectly boiled eggs, that even a Masterchef contestant would be proud to take to the judges.  Wine of course, what would a french picnic be without wine, a pear and walnut tart completes our share of the picnic.  Today we are guests of Peter and Michelle and will take the back seat in the car and really be tourists for the day.  A glorious day greets us for what will turn out to be one of our very special days of our trip.  Lovely Michelle is our tour guide for the day, and gives us a running commentary in her very best English, she always starts a sentence with and I quote "sorry my English is not very good, but I will try and explain it for you".  Well can I tell you if my French was anything like Michelle's English then I would call myself fluent.  Our first story involves what will be forever more known as the happy wash!  As we make our way up the winding road through the Monclur Forest we see by the side of the road a stone built hut which only consists of a framework of stones to support the roof, the structure straddles a little stream, Michelle explains to us that many years ago long before washing machines, the local women in the area would meet at a pre-agreed time, maybe only three or four times a year at this place to do their washing, which I guess would be quite a significant pile.  The women would treat these washing days, yes days, as it was often a couple of days trek for the women to reach the designated area, as a chance to catch up on all the local news, swap stories and generally have a good old gossip.  The women did not travel alone, the men folk also came along, but not to help of course, the story goes, that the men would seat next to the wash huts and watch the women bent over in the stream washing the clothes,  the sight of a women bent over gyrating her hips back and forth while rubbing the washing was too much for the men and the evenings where spent in some very happy nocturnal activities, and the local population always seemed to increase 9 months after a 'happy wash'!

As we travel along we notice the scenery changing slightly, the earth is darker, a beautiful rich colour of burnt red, this is a great wine region and I'm not surprised, the vegetation is extremely lush, great farming country says Ian.  The buildings are different from the ones in Le Lot, they are built of yellow stone and seem to be beautifully maintained, the gardens of the homes are absolutely immaculate.  As the Dordogne River comes into view, so do fairytale chateaux one after another, one side of the River houses English Chateaux (a remnant of the 100 year war or as the French like to say an angel was passing by, she had an apron full of castles as she flew over the Loire, Limousin and the Lot she dropped one here and there, when she arrived at Dordogne she was very tired she decided to empty her entire apron full of chateaux and return back to heaven) and on the other French Chateaux.  I'm getting whip lash from looking from one side of the car to another.   

Peter finds a most perfect spot for our picnic, right along side the Dordogne River, we drive down a slip way to the waters edge, park the car and voila we have our picnic spot.  A blanket and cushions are quickly thrown on the ground and we have our dream location.

From our spot on the lawn, we look up to this magnificent chateau, which has an interesting story!!  Apparently an old lady lives alone in the Chateau, she is currently looking for a man!! If you manage to please her (Peter said you would need magic mushrooms and plenty of Armagnac), then she will bequeath you her Chateau.  Peter and Ian discussed the idea of a tag team effort!!  Ian thought he would take the days and Peter the nights.......

After our picnic we made our way to Domme, a Bastide town (which is a fortified village built in the thirteenth and fourteenth century, usually high up on a hill with a wall built around its boundary for protection) for a welcome cup of coffee and a pleasant hour sitting on the terrace people watching.  The sky is turning a beautiful shade of purple which tells us it is time to make our way back home, as the sun starts to set we struggle to keep our eyes open in the back of the car as we drive past fields aglow with buttercups and daisies.  Positively perfect in every way.

I'm a fish watchers wife.......

Life has taken on a slow pace, our days are slowly drifting into one another, and we couldn't be happier. We want for nothing, we have everything we need, food, wine, a warm bed and each other.  We have travelled through the countryside, watching spring slowly turn the trees from twisted bare branches covered in moss to branches ladened with buds of pale green foliage  just waiting for the chance to burst into life, deer can be seen just on the edge of the woods in the clearings, often with a young fawn by their sides nibbling on the fresh new grass.  

Many of our days are spent walking up and over the cliffs, the air is clean and fresh, we barely come across another person, we have the whole place to ourselves.  The view from the very top is absolutely breathtaking, you can see for miles and miles in every direction.  Hidden amongst the trees treasure can be found, like the huts made out of stone.  Stones have been placed one on top of the other, no mortar holding each one together, just an amazing feat of engineering, the roof slowly forms a circle, you can only image how the very last stone was put into place without the whole structure collapsing like a house made out of cards.

After a long walk through the forest, we spend the end of the afternoon sitting on the wall just outside the door of Maison du Cele with a glass of our new favourite tipple Fenelon, a liquor of black current and walnut served over ice.  The river is running very quickly after the winters rain,  fish can be seen trying to swim upstream but it would appear in vain  as a moment of relaxation sends them a few metres back down river to start the process all over again.  Fish watching has become Ian’s method of relaxation he can happily spend an hour watching the river flowing by, today we have a contingent of ducks also trying to keep themselves from drifting too far down stream.  A simple pleasure that we most certainly wouldn't appreciate back in Australia, the saying 'take time to smell the roses' really seems to resonate here.

Joyeuses Paques

The sun shone brightly to celebrate the rebirth of Jesus..... nothing but clear blues skies welcomed in Easter Sunday.  The church bells have been silent in Cabrerets since the Thursday before Good Friday as all bells in France are silenced in acknowledgement of Jesus' death.  Children are told that the bells have flown away to Rome to see the Pope and return on Easter Sunday Morning when the bells ring out to celebrate the resurrection, declaring that Jesus is alive again.

We have been invited to a traditional Easter Lunch at the home of Peter and Michelle Paulin, we spend the night before practicing our very best pronounced Joyeuses Paques, which simply is Happy Easter just a whole lot harder to say.  We are joined for lunch by Monsieur Francis, Monsieur Philippe, Mademoiselle Marielour and of course our hosts Peter and Michelle.  Aperitif is served,  French Champagne (not Moet or Veuve Clicquot, that is for the mass market!!) no privately owned French Chateaux Champagne for us, Monsieur Francis just happens to be a Champagne  and Wine connoisseurs who has walked the entire Champagne region of France visiting and buying for his personal wine cave, which apparently is something to behold, he has a bottle of wine in the cave worth over Euro 6,000, which we haven't been invited to drink yet, but we are working on it.  The Champagne is served with fried cod balls!!!  no not what you are thinking, flakes of cod rolled into a ball with herbs and lightly fried.  This is then followed by a white bean soup, not just any beans but some special beans that can only be sourced this time of year, and are very expensive, to quote Ian "it was bloody delicious".  We then move the party to the dinner table, which is so elegantly dressed.

Wines flows, along with the food, next course, hard boiled eggs the yolks removed and filled with a mixture of gherkins and mayonnaise, the bright yellow yolks are then sprinkled on top to represent the promise of a long hot summer.

Roast lamb, the traditional meat of Easter in France, potatoes and green beans follow, the conversation flows even though it is mostly in French, we understand the gist and Philippe translates for us.  We enjoy hearing French spoken and realise that slowly, oh so slowly, we are beginning to take the first steps towards learning a new language.  As if we were not already full to the brim more food continues to come to the table, small rounds of goats cheese with a very fine walnut crumble on top which has been heated in the oven, served with a small green salad.  

Michelle comes to the table with a basket overflowing with Easter offerings, eyes closed we reach into the basket and receive our Easter gifts, chocolate bunnies, chickens, lambs and eggs.  Coffee and a gateaux decorated with little Easter chocolate gifts complete the amazing meal.  We are overflowing with contentment, and it is quickly decided that a walk in the beautiful sun is required to help digest our lunch.

Michelle stays home for a well earned rest, while the rest of us head off towards the cliffs.  What feels like several days later, we return for more Champagne.  As I mentioned before Monsieur Francis who is in his 70's is an avid walker, and he set the pace!! A very quick one at that, we find it impossible to keep up, but his local knowledge lead us to many undiscovered treasures hidden amongst the woods, the more delight we show the more enthusiastic he becomes and the longer the walk becomes, in fact 3 hours in total.

Michelle lends me a blanket to rug up against the cold for your short walk back to Maison du Cele, another amazing day spent here in Cabrerets.

 

The week that was...

We have been gone one week already, today is Good Friday, Ian is out helping Peter hang a new door!!! I am home alone with a pot of tea, french music drifting down the stairs and my thoughts.  We have settled very easily back in to French life, early mornings, long lunches with plenty of wine, an afternoon rest curled up by the fire, a lazy walk along the river and evenings full of laughter.  Wednesday we spent the morning in Cahors, another Vide Grenier (one brass vase only!!!) and a local produce market.  The foods stalls seem somewhat bare after the abundance of summer, potatoes, large white cauliflowers, courgettes, mushrooms and rustic apples are the staple of the winter diet.  Of course in supermarkets you can find everything possible, but the real fresh and in season produce can only been sourced at the local markets.

The variety of food available here is truly mind blowing, as you would expect cheese can take up two or three isles alone, yoghurt another two at least, cured meats another two, every vegetable imaginable can be found either in glass jars or in tins. Wine, plenty of wine, and spirits can all be purchased along with your weekly shop!

We spent two lovely evening, out dining with friends, one was a trip over to St Cirq Lapopie to visit Henk and Nerida, those of you in the know, will already be able to picture the scene and the dinner date requirements, for those of you not in the know, dinner is always served at 6.30 and finishes 9pm sharp, no lounging back on a comfy sofa with a glass of red, discussing the world deep into the night on these dinner dates.  Henk has done a wonderful job at renovating the house above Nerida's art gallery (Nerida is going to be listed as one of the top 100 women artists this century, an amazing achievement). The old fire place is from medieval times and you can certainly imagine a large pig roasting on a spit above the fire and gentry gathered around drinking mead.  Henk has raised the bed of the fire up to help  eliminate smoke and to enable him to cook on the open fire.  A beautiful salad of endives, pears and dates start the meal, followed by tender lamb loins, lentils and green bean and a citrus tart with vanilla ice cream finishes off a most pleasant evening.

Our second venture out was the Roue, and yes Graeme, Fanny was in residence, and remembered Ian!!! now thats a worry.   Our neighbours for one week only, are from America, Mary, Glen and their daughter Claire.  It is so easy here to make new friends, I guess because they are here they are already like minded people.  They run their own businesses back in the States, a second hand book store, and Glen is a Carpenter, he built this own house out of hay and had a roof raising party when all the neighbours brought along  a 'pot luck supper' while lending a helping hand.

When we arrived at the Roue, we are warmly welcomed, by the owner, who immediately lit the fire next to our table which soon becomes a roaring blaze, which means layers of clothes need to be removed.  The hostess apologises by telling us that they normally during the winter do not open for evening meals (only the bar) unless they have a special evening on! Lunch is apparently the go in winter.  The restaurant had been full at lunch time with 56 people, and therefore she didn't really have much food left, we told her that whatever she had available would be fine by us, this is what followed:-

Potato Soup served in a large turin (help yourself style)

Plenty of crusty bread

Puff Pastry Tart filled with cream cheese

Mixed Salad

Confit of duck served with side dish of pasta 

Pear tart, served with meringue and ice cream

as many carafes of red wine that you liked

Coffee

Grappa or Melon Liquor 

all the grand some of Euro 13 per head

what more is there to say....

                                                 

French Shores Once More

 I find myself back in Cabrerets, sitting beside the Poule, which is only required to take the slight chill off the air, glass of red in hand and with a sense of calm I haven’t felt in a long while.

It’s a strange sensation returning to our French house, I am always sad to leave our Aussie home, but excited also at the prospect of six glorious weeks wandering aimlessly through the French countryside, one long lunch after another, one Vide Grenier (bric-a-brac market) after another. 

The countryside looks a little bleak, it certainly has been a long cold winter; the trees are heavy with moss, but not a leaf in sight.  A few trees scattered amongst them have the beginnings of spring blossom, promising that summer will soon be on its way.  The lush green fields are a welcome sight after a very long hot summer back home in Australia, where the ground is parched and dry.    As we wind our way through the small country lanes toward Limogne for our first of what I hope will be many trips to a local produce market, and Vide Grenier, we are struck by the beauty of the bare trees with twisted branches reaching up towards the sky, birds nests in full view, there will be no privacy for them for another month or so! 

The weather is actually very mild, and the locals are certainly out in force to celebrate, cafes are full to the brim, a café noir here a glass of white there.  The sound of conversation and laughter can be heard everywhere, we manage to find a spare table and quickly take up our spot amongst the crowd for a pleasant hour of people watching.  The market brings together a melting pot of people, city dwellers, artists, foodies, bohemians and then of course me.  I love the eclectic mix of fashion on display, young or old alike dress exactly as they please, no tragic followers of fashion here, it is if it feels right then it is right.

A slow meander amongst the stallholders helps to undercover a few hidden treasures, you need to be quick so many people now are on the prowl looking for a bargain, so my advice is don’t hesitate, if you want it then buy it as it will most certainly not be there on your way back up the street.   Today we find we cant live without another coffee cup set complete with milk jug, a beautiful tray decorated in a Moroccan Moorish style in muted blues and greens and a brass stand with bellows, poker, pan and brush, which actually we can’t live without!  Ian had turned quite red in the face yesterday trying to blow air in the fire, so todays lighting was a much easier affair.

Today is Palm Sunday, and is celebrated in style by the French.   Bunches of a green shrub with yellows flowers adorn the pews of churches and locals take home bunches from the market to obviously adorn their own homes.  So Ian was given a mission to forage in our local woodlands to find some for our home.  A beautiful walk soon uncovered plenty and Ian gallantly climb up a tree to retrieve some for me, the sky had clouded over and it wasn’t long before we were caught in a rather heavy shower, we took shelter under the eaves of an old fallen down shed and waited for it to pass.  Although our clothes were slightly damp, our spirit certainly wasn’t.