Francophile Travels

Saying Goodbye- Paris

2010-04-09T17:33:00.000+02:00

The Seine was beautiful and the sun was shining on our last day
in Paris and last day in France altogether.

The little island in the middle is a longtime favorite for picnics and sunny days.

The bustling street alongside the Seine is lined with bird, dog, and plant stores, and the noises and smells of chirping canaries and budding flowers are unmistakable.

The church at Les Invalides rises over the surrounding buildings.

Church at day and night.
Voila.

Our first très important stop before leaving- one of our all-time favorites-
Place des Vosges, home to the Victor Hugo museum. Imagine this as your view
when you pull back your curtains in the morning!

Our next stop was Père Lachaise, the largest cemetery within the city limits and home
to the graves of the likes of Edith Piaf, Isadora Duncan and Balzac.

The cemetery is on a hill, with stone paths leading you like a maze past grave after grave,
some teeming with flowers and other cracked and forgotten. Tourists come from all around,
but also Parisians come just to take an afternoon stroll in the quiet, slightly haunting,
but stunningly beautiful atmosphere.

The last few photos are from the Luxembourg gardens, one of the best in Paris.
It is a place to congregate with friends, walk hand in hand, read, relax, play tennis and
watch the giddy children sailing their tiny sailboats on the pond.

What a perfect sendoff from a lovely little corner of the world.
Merci beaucoup et a bientôt.

Traso In The Mountains

2010-04-04T00:52:00.000+02:00

Like most good, great, wonderful things, our time in Italy is coming to a close.
The little mountain village where we have been staying is called Traso, just outside of Genoa.
It is tucked up along a rather steep slope, with a terrific view of the valley and villages below.

All of the houses in Traso must follow a very strict color code of pastels,
and the shutters can only be painted either green or brown.
Some may find it frustrating, but it creates an aesthetically cohesive feel to the area.

HANNAH this one is for you. I know we'd been looking for property in France,
but this building is way too good to pass up. What d'ya think, eh??
Put in a nice hot tub on the top, what could be better?

Since Traso is already about half way up the mountain side, a hike to the top seemed
within reason. The path up was sprinkled with spring treasures like these
tiny, delicate daisies. And out of nowhere appeared a green, green garden
patch smack in the middle of the brown and dormant earth.

Almost there ladies, just a little farther.
The villages in the distance shrank to colorful specks across the valley as we gained elevation.

Well, we made it, what now?

More treasures. Crocuses, which are native to the area, sprang up in every direction,
opening their petals to the sun.

On top of the world in the fresh air and sunshine.

Looking to the southeast, the sloping ridges seem to go on forever, silent and treeless.

If the weather had been just a little bit clearer we could have seen the island of
Corsica to the southwest in the distance. Nonetheless, we could not have asked for a more beautiful sendoff from this incredible country.

Until next time Italia.

Bella Boccadasse

2010-03-30T00:50:00.000+02:00

With a sizable bowl of pasta resting in our stomachs, we strolled along the seaside path between downtown Genova and the old fisherman's neighborhood Boccadasse to the east.

At the center of the buildings lies the main attraction- a tiny beach all of pebbles.
While that may seem uncomfortable even if you brought a blanket,
many of these sun-lovers are laying out on the bare rock- sleeping, kissing and chatting.

This man was fast asleep, and he was by NO means the only one...

I guess now you can't even sit on the beach without being bombarded by advertising.
And it's impossible NOT to notice an entirely lit-up barge drifting casually by.

The local biker gang of Boccadasse made an appearance on their home turf...
What ensued??? Bumper-bikes galore.

Watching as the sun starts to fade over the bay.

The car pulled up at home just in time for a lovely valley sunset.
Buona notte Italia

Come to Camogli

2010-03-23T22:35:00.014+01:00

After many long but wonderful months in France, it was time to head over to the Italian Riviera, say hello, and indulge in the wonders of Italian cuisine-- a.k.a. gnocchi con pesto(a Genovese specialty) every single day please.

The sun was shining, the air was warm and all the flowers were beginning to bloom.
We parked the car in Camogli- a small, colorful city right on the coast near Genoa. Rising up on either side of the city are vertical rock faces adorned with more small towns scattered about.

The little town waaayyyyy up there is called San Rocco, where we finally made it after scrambling up the mountainside from Camogli- out of breath, sweaty but happy. Time for an aperitif.

Along the way we found numerous treasures- clothes on the line, always, cats in the
walkway and flower pots teeming with beautiful displays.

And while some of the buildings were more run down than others,
they still retained a certain quality and charm.

Every mountain face was covered with terraces from top to bottom, full of olive trees and gardens. Talk about learning to maximize land use- they have the process down here and not only does it work well, but it creates a beautiful landscape.

Whether you are in France or Italy, there is a never-ending supply of vibrantly colorful houses lining the Mediterranean. The yellow building houses a restaurant at the top with a prime view.
Guests can see the Camogli port down to the right and open water all around.

This house is in the midst of renovation using the painting technique "trompe d'oeil"
or trick of the eye, which is very popular in this region. It makes use of shadows and highlights,
creating a 3D effect on the exterior walls.

Some very lucky person has a very nice summer home.

Finally, we made it all the way up to San Rocco and back down to the sea.
A lovely view for a picnic, with the sun's rays and sea's breeze.

Along the sea, fishing is obviously a huge industry. Fishermen's nets lined the walkway on the last part of our hike, ready for use when the catchin' is good.

From here we took a boat along the coast back to Camogli...enough hiking for the day, eh?

Approaching the port, the layered look of this coastal mountain city was striking.
Camogli, meaning houses of wives, is a contraction between the Italian words for house, "casa", and wife, "mogli". When the town was full of fishermen, the wives were always left
behind at home while their husbands were out at sea.

The life.

Good weather draws people out of their houses like nothing else.
No more work!!--Local Camoglians crowded the main drag along
the seaside in the afternoon light.

A finished example of trompe d'oeil fashioned in the lively colors of Camogli.
Note that the pink building on the right even went so far
as to paint on fake windows and shutters.

Any excuse to get outside that day, even just to send a text, was crucial for catching some rays.
The cafes could finally start putting chairs outside, the gelato places were packed
with screaming children, strollers and smiling faces.

Ciao waters of Camogli, and thank you for a glorious day in the sun.

A Lesson on Lambs

2010-03-17T16:02:00.010+01:00

There is a new addition to the Camont family.....LAMBS. Two very precious, very new lambs.
Kate knows a couple who owns sheep, so we drove north toward their farm into the Lot region of France, where the soil and landscape is quite different from the heavy clay around Kate's place.

On the way, we ran across two ancient Shepherd's huts built on the edges of a field.

This one in the distance is the bigger of the two, and was probably used for a
little refuge from the sun for a shepherd as he babysat his fluffy white flock.

The second hut was smaller and had a few inches of water still left in the bottom-
most likely once a spring.

The stonework is incredible, so precise and STILL STANDING in pristine condition. Does anyone know the artist Andy Goldsworthy? He creates structures like this one, and others with sticks, ice, stones, raindrops etc. They are temporary in that he builds them in places where they will be destroyed by natural means like melting from the sun or being carried away in the tide.

The old farmhouse is built right on a river and at one time was a working mill. The white
building to the right is the old mill house, but is now just another barn. Walnut, chestnut
and pine trees cover the property and create a wonderful, homey nest in the valley.

Happy sheep in their large, shady pasture.

First task? Getting the sheep in one place to snatch up a young one.
Sounds easy right? Just put food out and they all come running.

Craig, the owner, caught the first lamb. It is a beautiful little girl and a
local Gascon breed with black circles around its eyes.
Maybe this is mommy? Perhaps she's just a little angry?

No one knows who will be next, and they're all on guard, watching, waiting.

One little lamb, all alone and no one to play with.

Kathryn has arrived! And 2 days into the Camont experience she gets her first taste
of what it feels like to hold a warm, woolly animal in her arms. When we got the lambs home, I wondered why their knees were dirty and discolored...well, here you have it.
Drink up.

Craig demonstrates how to position the lamb. Sitting on its rear end, the little one is incapacitated and can't move from your grip. This is the position that
is generally used for shearing sheep as well.

And of course, no farm is complete without a dog. This Australian Sheep dog, with its
brown and ginger coat, is not only a rare color but also the best dog I have ever met.

Such a proud new mom with her new baby lamb.
Can you see the resemblance?

Thanks Craig, and good luck to Kate Hill in her new endeavor.

Spring Has Arrived

2010-03-08T07:29:00.009+01:00

We have been working hard around Camont getting things ready for the coming of spring.

Enormous groups of cranes, hundreds at a time, flew overhead last week. This signifies the beginning of spring much like our Groundhog Day in the U.S.
We could not have been more happy to see them.

It is time for the ducks and chickens to begin sitting on their eggs, so we have to
secure the coop against ferrets, rats and weasels. This darling little chicken is more persistant than the rest and is always the first to run over and see what we are doing.

And it turns out, Bacon will be hatching the ducklings this year...

Nothing is done around Camont without the "help" of the 10 chickens and Henri.
They are constantly under our feet and hands as we work, waiting for the
second we dig up a plump, pink worm or grub.

The garden is turning around from last year's frozen, dead vines to our
newly constructed raised beds for potatoes. The soil here is full of thick, heavy clay,
so planting on top of the earth in raised beds is much easier.

Hiding down on the Garonne Canal, Kate's boat, the Julia Hoyt, is another one of our projects. Kate has lived on the boat for the past 24 years, giving canal tours in the summer between Bordeaux and Toulouse. But it is now time to sell the boat and move on to the next thing.

The boat flooded a few weeks ago, and finally all the water is pumped out from
under the floorboards, the bedrooms and the tool room.

Julia Hoyt will be beautiful and brand new when she's finished being fixed up.
She is an old WWI boat that Kate bought in Holland. The hull is iron, not steel, thus more rust- resistant and strong. Anyone in the market for a boat? She's an absolute gem!

No matter how hard we work throughout the day, we are always rewarded with
a stunning sunest over the farmland to the southwest of us.

Cheers to la belle vie en France

Larressingle, whaaaat?

2010-03-03T14:41:00.007+01:00

I promise that Larressingle is NOT the name of a fancy duck dish. . .

Lucky us, it just so happens that we ran into yet another town on the 20 Prettiest Villages
of France list. The name is a bit funky, so Kate'slittle trick is to remember-
Larry's Single. Oh, he is? I had no idea!

Larressingle is an old bastide, or fortified town, built in the early 13th century. The currently accepted definition of a bastide is a town that was designed and built as a whole by the founder.

This town is circular, with thick, stone walls surrounding and protecting it.

Originally, when life was slightly more dangerous and you never knew who was
going to come and invade you next, there was a drawbridge across the mote.
It was later replaced by this fixed bridge supported by massive pillars.

The sign at the entrance reads:
INTERDIT AUX CHEVAUX(No horses allowed).
Shoot.

A short section of the 4-foot-thick wall is exposed along the back side of the village.
Safety first, children.

In the 13th century, this region was being fought over by both the French and English crowns. Thus came the beginnings of bastide-building.

And talk about a room with a view.

The tiled roofs in this region were especially prominent
and beautiful in this little bastide.

Pigeons roost in the abandoned towers of Larressingle.
The inhabitants are quite lucky because the up-keep of their small village is of utmost importance to France, being one of its 20 pretty villages. The stonework is precise and beautifully restored, the lawn in trimmed, and there are no horse droppings to speak of.

The village is also a stop along the Saint-Jaques-de-Compostelle pilgrimage,
which continues on to the southwest and then straight westward across nothern Spain.

Pâte, Civet, Rillettes, Confit, Fois Gras-- Oh la

2010-02-27T07:49:00.013+01:00

Now that we've had a small break from duck,
we are going to go all out with everything duck right now.
(*This post is definitely not for the vegetarians/vegans out there.)

First up is duck pâte- so we needed to bring out the handy meat grinder...

Slowly but surely the duck meat was fed through the top of the grinder,
and came out nice and...ground..? onto the dish.

Note the deep yellow color of the farm-fresh egg yolks-- incredible.
The egg gets mixed right in with the meat, and then it's
molded into little bowls and decorated with a bay leaf & a few peppercorns.

Pop it in the oven, spread it on a baguette and voila! Delicieux

Next up is Civet, which is a very, very close cousin to
Boeuf Bourguignon, if not a fraternal twin even.
Don't like duck? You can substitute really any game or red poultry in this dish.

Brown the meat, carrots, leeks, shallots, celery and bacon ends. In a separate pot, boil 2 1/2 bottles of red wine and add the bouquet garni(thyme & parsley). Add everything back into the browning pot, pouring in the wine, some peppercorn and 4 bay leaves.Boil, then let simmer
for 2 hours(it's better/more flavorful the next day, so be patient and reheat it later!)

Civet, served with delicious buttery polenta. Mmmmmmm

Moving on to Rillettes, a true duck phenomenon and relatively simple.
Muscovy is the duck of choice for this dish, as they are extra meaty.

Put the wings, carcass, neck and breast(opt) in a pot with bay leaves, peppercorn, onion, carrots, leeks, celery leaves, and fresh thyme. Add water 1/2 up the pot, boil, simmer for about 2 hours, until meet is very tender. This creates really flavorful juices that will be put back into the recipe.

This is the fun part if you like to get your hands dirty. Take all the meat off the bone, discard the meet and ligament. MASH MASH MASH the meat with your hands until it turns into a nice paste. Add: 1 c broth from pot, 1 c duck fat, 1 tsp pepper, and 1 Tbl large salt crystals.

Now, you can put this in a terrine/wok and eat relatively soon,
or you can sterilize it in jars and keep it for up to 1 year.
We chose to sterilize them, but let me tell you, they will not last for a year in this house.

Almost there! The 4th recipe is none other than Confit de Canard.

Take all the duck parts and rub with salt. Let it stand in the frig for about 24 hours.
To get the duck fat- cut out all the fat you can find and melt it in a skillet. Strain it to make sure there are no chunks. Retrieve the duck parts, wash off the salt with cold water,
pat dry, and let then simmer in the fat for 2 hours.
Fit them into jars and pour the fat over and around the parts to be 'confited', and seal them well.

Now, Confit means to preserve, like confiture(jam). You can confit just about anything that produces fat, like pork. So while we made the Confit de Canard today,
we should really let it sit on the shelf for 2 months or so before eating it.

Most likely, when you order Confit de Canard at a restaurant it is not the true/preserved dish.

Next? Last? Getting tired of duck yet? Terrine de Fois Gras Entier Mi-Cuit
Now, what does all that mean? Terrine is simply the small pot it is cooked in. Entier means 'whole', so the liver is not cut up, not mixed in with other parts of the duck, just the liver.
You can buy cheap fois gras at the store because it not made solely from liver.
And mi-cuit means semi-cooked. It is the best kind and retains a beautiful, pinkish hue.

De-veining the liver is essential, as you do not want them spoiling your creation.
First discovered by Egyptians with migratory birds, fois gras spread from Egypt to the Mediterranean, though it was not recognized as a proper dish until Roman times.

Salt and pepper and Armagnac the liver, leaving it marinade for 3-4 hours in the frig.
Then put it into a small terrine pot.

Press the liver down with weights to make sure there are no air pockets.
Cook at 180 degrees F for 30-35 minutes in a water bath, until it is 135 degrees in the center.
A nice seal of fat will rise to the top. Let cool in the water.
Keep 2 days before eating. You may cry when you taste how wonderful this is.

A Perfect pot of fois gras, waiting to be eaten.

Our very own, homemade fois gras, which we had as
an apéritif along with baguette and fresh, fresh oysters. Oh la!

Do try all of these dishes but don't attempt to make them all in one day...
you will most certainly drive yourself nuts, burn a few pots, put the polenta through
the meat grinder and accidentally pour the Civet wine over the fois gras- GROSS.

Bonne Chance(Good luck)

Tartiflette à la Kate Hill

2010-02-24T22:49:00.009+01:00

After a few days of seeing quite a lot of duck, we decided to do something a little different for dinner tonight: Kate's Gascon version of Tartiflette, with a pear tart for dessert.

Welcome everyone, to The French Kitchen with Kate Hill.

And we're off!

We started out with the pastry shell. Sandra said if she could go home knowing
how to make a perfect pastry she would be happy...

Mixing a 1:2 ration of butter and flour together and keeping the hands facing up, always up, Sandra is well on her way to perfection. This nifty measuring cup gives the grams based on what it is you are measuring- from flour, to sugar, to rice, and liquid.

For the pie makers out there, we know that rolling out the dough and getting it safely into the pan in one piece is never easy. Rolling it up onto the rolling pin this way helps immensely.

Mmmm, and there is nothing better than juicy pears, fresh from the
local market we went to earlier today.

Participating in the cooking and note-taking are both
essential parts of getting the process down.

Someone is happy with her pie shell. And the tart was superb.

Now, on to the tartiflette we march.

...but first, a little knife-handling session.

The tartiflette originated in the Savoie region, which encompasses southeastern France but is no longer a technical region of France. It is reminiscent of potatoes au gratin, and is usually made with potatoes, cream, ham and a whole round of Reblochon cheese cut and melted on the top.

Kate's Gascon version is much more lively and
colorful thanks to the wonderful sweet potatoes.

And who knew that making homemade crackers could be so easy? Not I. We used extra pizza dough, rolled it out, put an egg wash and some seeds on top and voila!

Every night of great cooking deserves a candlelight dinner chez Kate.
And a night of good, long sleep follows shortly after.
Bon Appétit friends

Grattons de Canard

2010-02-21T23:12:00.004+01:00

Back in the kitchen, it is time to begin one of the
many duck wonders Kate has planned for us. It starts simple.

One would never guess that duck and popcorn have anything to do with each other...
but upon closer examination we find a popcorn delicacy: Grattons(pronounced, grat-ohn)

Grattons has a very short and simple ingredient list- duck skin and oil.
O.K. fine, so you sprinkle salt and pepper on afterward too, but that's IT.

The skin needs to be cut into cubes, which eventually form popcorn-like shapes.

Having a team of two works great, one person on the
boiling pot of oil and skin and the other on the fry-pan.

The cubes of skin boil in the oil for a few minutes, are then transferred to a pan to get crispy,
and finally dumped in a serving bowl and tossed with a little salt and pepper.

Sounds a little weird right? But in the end,
it's an addictive snack-food like any chip, cookie, or candy.
A real crunchy delight

Carving the Duck

2010-02-15T21:59:00.005+01:00

Now, what happens to the ducks once they are whisked
away from the Marché au Gras madness and into the kitchen?

They become meals and dishes of various kinds, textures, qualities-
a main course, a pâte, a spread, you name it. But first, before we make anything,
we have to learn the correct way to cut a duck.

Our gracious instructor Kate, giving the duck some good lovin'.
It is always a good idea to do this, soften it up a bit, before you start hacking away.

Back in Kate's Kitchen-at-Camont, we prepare ourselves for a down and dirty anatomy lesson...

All of the body parts are still here, so we have to take out what is uneatable.
The first to go are the head and neck. At the base of the neck is the crop, a pouch where the ducks store food to eat later, so the kernels of corn are still very much in tact.

Contrary to popular belief about the evils of fois gras, the crop is where food gets stuffed
into the duck, not directly into the stomach.
So they have more food available to them, but they choose when they eat it.

With the neck and head finished, next comes the main cut down the back of the duck,
in hopes of finding the large, precious liver.

As seen from the rear of the duck...
this liver is an absolute beauty, both in color and size.
Slowly and carefully you peel the skin away from around the liver.

"Now, how do you get the damn thing out?" is the question on Sandra's mind.
A little bit more digging and there you are, just like that.

And how much does your liver weigh? Probably somewhere around the human average
of 2 kilos. This duck's liver was almost 1 kilo(almost 2 pounds)...
not bad for a bird not even close to 1/2 our size.

Now for the really fun part, you get to fish out the innards,
leaving the duck feeling... a bit empty inside.

There is already a nice cut down the back, which we made before.
Following that line, you puuuulll the first side off very carefully, using the knife to help
sever any tissue hanging on for dear life. Continue all the way down...

Voila! Well done! One whole side of the duck, cleanly separated from the body.
Now, cut each part out- leg, wing, and breast(magret)- from the skin.
And start in on side numéro deux.

The whole duck on the left turned into all the separate cuts on the right in a matter of minutes...well, not as fast as the chefs at the marché, but we got there eventually.

So, who thinks they can now dissect a duck all on their own? Anyone?
It's a little daunting at first, but the reward of eating it later is 100% worth the effort.
Cheers

Bérets and Birds- Gascony

2010-02-13T18:25:00.011+01:00

It is high duck season here in Gascony. The buying is good, the selling competitive.
We drove over an hour away, to the small town of Gimont, to see the festivities of a Marché au Gras in live and living color. And damn was it spectacular.

From November to March, these gigantic marchés are held to sell ducks and geese.
Local vendors line their plucked ducks up on long white tables.
When the bell goes off at exactly 10:30AM, there is a mad rush to find the
best of the best ducks, geese and livers for making everything bird.

A very careful inspection is necessary to find any little flaw that
could possibly make or break a superb fois gras.

"Ça."
"That one. I'll take that one, s'il vous plaît."

It became immediately clear that purchasing duck is a serious matter.

Hanging ducks.

Want to have your ducks butchered here and not have to worry about it when you get home?
Well, you're in luck. Step right up and hand the birds over.
These fast, skillful butchers slice the birds into parts in about 2 minutes flat.

Another critical aspect of the marchés is the vet.
He gives the go-ahead that the vendors are selling legitimate meat.

The birds are piling up....
Not only are people like us there to buy just a duck or two, but people with restaurants to supply are buying by the cart-full. And they surely want their ducks chopped.

And how much do yooour birds weigh?

It some ways it seemed a morbid affair, walking in and out of aisles of birds,
their necks draped off the edges of the tables as if preparing for execution.

It is getting close to the end, and vendors with birds left are getting anxious.
The whole market only lasts about 1/2 an hour...so if you tend to be late to dates,
don't bother coming on this one. People get in and out and the supply vanishes.

Carts are necessary for those buying in bulk.
The French-size trucks are outside waiting to be stuffed to the brim with cold, naked birds.

It is common to have higher demand than supply, so all the birds will most likely be sold.
The stragglers will stay by and chat, but most people get what they want and head home, especially on such an unseasonably chilly day burrrrrrrrr.

Another Sunday market come and gone in the blink of an eye.
Bon appétit.

Frosty Morning @ Camont

2010-02-09T18:36:00.013+01:00

Arriving to a new place at night is always mysterious and wonderful because you never

know exactly what to expect when you draw the curtains in the morning.

I woke up on my first morning at Camont to quite a lovely surprise.
The Garonne Canal runs right past Kate's property, parallel to the Garonne River close by.
Since this patch of the canal runs east-west, the sun rises at one end and sets at the other.

And this particular morning, while a subtle sun was rising to the east...

...a very full and tired moon was setting to the west.

Camont is situated right outside of the well-populated city of Agen in the southwest of France, directly between Bordeaux and Toulouse. This area is the most agriculturally diverse region of France, with fields of apples, kiwis, fava beans and grapes stretching on forever.

The farmland for miles and miles was covered in a delicate frost.
And there wasn't a sound to be heard besides my crunching footsteps on the solid earth.

From the wood pile, to the herbs...

...and even the new buds on the trees, the little crystals shone in the morning light.

I have grown to love the morning walks around the property
with Kate's horse, I mean dog, Bacon, whose favorite activity is chomping on the
old, smelly compost meant for the chickens.

Spring usually comes early in this area, so thought the duck.
He was clearly perplexed by his unusually frozen pond.

Frozen crab apples hang on for dear life by their chilled, stiff stems.

Henri, the graceful male head of the chicken coup, watches protectively over his brood while
they feast on a corn, barley and wheat mixture.

Glimmering and shimmering, the sun climbs over the distant rolling hills.

Slowly but surely the rays warm up the yard, and everything is peaceful.

The house dates from the mid 1700's, with a pigeonnier, a piggery, the barn and the extremely minimal living quarters all attached. It has a very cozy feel.

What a perfect welcome to a new home.

Au Revoir Toulon

2010-02-03T13:07:00.004+01:00

Toulon has been my home for over a month now,
and like any place you truly get to know, it ends up being difficult to say goodbye.

While Toulon is not my favorite city in all of France, there were some
truly great things about it that I am really going to miss...

Mount Faron rises ominously in the distance behind the Toulon skyline, a few miles of
high rise apartment complexes, and the house that was my home for 30 some odd days.

To get a better sense of the scale of the city, we climbed to the top of Mount Faron one day
to see what we would see: the very modern, quite ugly buildings and industrial port,
and the glorious water and tree-covered land across the bay.

Back down in the center of Toulonian life is Cours Lafayette, the huge pedestrian
walkway that hosts the market every single day- shocking.

It was always a joy during market hours to wander up and down amongst the
produce stands and tables of cheap, lacy lingerie on Lafayette.

And every day around the 1:30PM vendors would pack up their goods,
leaving enormous piles of trash everywhere.

So...the clean-up crew was badly needed to keep the center of Old Toulon looking spic and span.
And boy did they do their job...not a single Lima bean was left behind.

Brand spankin' new by about 2 in the afternoon...

And ready just in time for kids getting out of school
to parade down Lafayette looking for trouble.

Sunshine on the streets of Old Toulon.
This part of the city was great- older architecture, narrow streets and good vibes.

It was run down in many parts, but still great for adventuring.

One thing about living a place for a while, is that you find all the good spots.
This bakery was our favorite in all of Toulon, and just a short walk from home. People double parked daily to run in and grab a baguette.

Free Sunday concert!
Toulonaise came dressed to the 9's- furs and suits- to hear the orchestra.

They weren't the greatest orchestra, but they sure had good turnout.

Something I will miss dearly and was so glad to find? My dear friend Lauren who showed me around and let me practice my French. Our last day together we took to the boat to hang out with ...an old French guy in spandex, just what we were hoping for.

Oh, the retired life in the South of France. Not too shabby.

BYOC- bring your own chairs, and catch some rays.

Yellow sun of late afternoon.

Last but certainly not least- the sunrises and sunsets.
I have never seen them more vibrant and beautiful.

Thank you Sarah and Phil for everything.
It was a month well spent in every way with your family.

Cistercian Abbey of Provence

2010-02-01T14:03:00.007+01:00

The air was crisp and chilly, a perfect day to visit the grounds of Le Thoronet Abbey.
Nestled between the bend of a small river and a spring, it is one of 3 Cistercian Abbeys in Provence- along with Silvacane and Sénanque.

Built in the early 13th century, Le Thoronet was home to around 20 monks. . .
and what a beautifully constructed home!

Cistercian architecture followed the belief that less is more- very simple in line,
form and even color, using the smoothest, palest available stone.

The quality of light let in by window just big enough is truly stunning.

Archway after archway lead to seemingly endless narrow passageways between
the different parts of the building. You never know where you might end up.

Note the precise stonework. The Cistercians were known for their mastery of metal,
extracting it and using it to cut stone. It was real tough competition for who got
to be the stone-cutter for their monasteries.

Enjoying the leaves and a sunny day in the south of France.

Mama and her baby boy.

This fountain sits under the beautiful arcade surrounding the simple, green grass courtyard.

One secret passageway leads down to the cellar, where the monks made olive oil and wine.
The nice ventilation chimneys prevented buildup of alcohol vapors.
Sorry, no parties allowed.

Farewell Le Thoronet- our last family outing before I depart from Toulon.

Restoring an 18th Century French Farmhouse

2010-01-25T22:09:00.010+01:00

France is the perfect place for creative types- for people who are able to look at an old, dilapidated farmhouse or ruins and see its potential. It is truly miraculous what people can create out of what seems like a heap of junk due to years of neglect and misuse.

Just over 30 minutes outside the center of industrial Toulon lies endless stretches of fields,
with great, old farmhouses plopped down amongst the now hibernating crops.

We took a drive out to visit our friends Jill and John- who purchased one of these old farmhouses with the intent of creating a paradise...and they are well on their way.
The name of the house is La Peyrardiere, dating back to the 1790's.

Their property has 17 olive trees, which they usually harvest, take to a co-op,
and then wait for a few months to receive the olive oil.
Imagine floating on your back in the pool with this view!

This outdoor oven is going to be perfect for pizzas in the summer...mm mmmmm

Neighbors in the distance- not too close, not too far.
The pinkish and green of the house is very similar to John and Jill's place.

They have a spectalar view of the mountains from their windows.
The vineyard is owned by another farmer, but it fits right in.

The kitchen, wood-burning stove and all, was the only thing already completed when they bought the house- and man is it lively!
Jill is very knowledgeable about copper, and shops the markets and
second-hand stores for good finds. They compliment the yellow setup nicely.

The pigeonnier(pigeonry) sits just to the side of the house,
along this massive circular design of flagstones.

Apparently it was used as a place for wheat farmers to gather and have
wheat-threshing parties. Only one house in an area would have this stone work since
it was expensive and covers a large area.

Before Jill and John moved in, the back door to the house opened onto dirt.
They put in the this beautiful porch with a roof themselves and now have a nice area for grilling.

(And yes, it still kind of opens up onto dirt but that's only because they're in the process of landscaping!)

The house is just amazing. They are still very much in the process and are actually living,
with their 1-year-old twin girls, in only two rooms upstairs...but it's getting there.

Kudos! Jill and John-the house is looking great.
I can't wait to see it when it's all finished.

Sur Le Pont d'Avignon

2010-01-24T14:55:00.008+01:00

Who likes children's songs? You may know the town of Avignon from a 15th
century French song sung about one of the town's old bridges. It is now a song that most French children know quite well. This is only the chorus, but see if you're familiar with it:

Sur le pont d’Avignon
L'on y danse, l'on y danse
Sur le pont d’Avignon
L'on y danse tous en rond

On the bridge of Avignon
We all dance there, we all dance there
On the bridge of Avignon
We all dance there in a circle

The official name of the bridge is Pont St-Bénézet, but because of the song, it is better known
as Pont d'Avignon. Built in the 12th century, the bridge spanned the width of
the Rhône River until a major flood in 1668 caused all but 4 of the original 22 arches to fall.

The Chapel of Saint Nicholas remains intact on top of the bridge,
where Rhône boatmen would stop and worship their patron saint- St Nicholas.

Driving up across a modern bridge towards Avignon, you really get the
feel of a Medieval city, guarded by a thick, stone wall. The weather wasn't perfect,
but it added a very mystical feel to our approach.

Note the grand entryway in the background.
There are 39 huge towers total along the wall, all looking like little castles in themselves.

The 14th century wall has been very well preserved and restored.

The Rhône River passes right by the city. The wide, calm waters are perfect for barges,
smaller boats and crew practice.

Outside the walls of the city.

The many small, twisting side streets were quiet. And since it was quite chilly out,
this guy knew window gazing from his warm apartment sounded just right.

We had a bit of snow- a little late for Christmas, but still a very welcome thrill.

Place d'Horloge is the main square in Avignon, with many restaurants,
the city hall, opera house and toddling children. The medieval clock tower overlooks the square.

Of course, the sales in France are still goin' strong, and people have yet to tire of shopping. Well...except for this guy..."Screw it, gimme a drink."

The construction of this enormous Gothic building, Palais des Papes, began in 1316, after Avignon came under the rule of the popes. The Palace was home to many popes up until
the French Revolution. Heavily raided during the war, there is very little original art left inside.

The Chapelle de Saint-Michel et Tous les Saints was built between 1369 and 1378
in the middle of a cemetery for the poor....hmmm.

We were back at the Palais des Papes at the end of the day just
in time to hear a marching band perform.

People appeared from every direction, emerging from the tiny, narrow passageways
and gathering 'round to hear the energetic tunes.

We took our leave of Avignon with a last
glance at the famous Pont under a cloudy but wondrous sunrise.

. . . .

Sur le pont d’Avignon
L'on y danse, l'on y danse
Sur le pont d’Avignon
L'on y danse tous en rond

Across the Toulon Bay

2010-01-22T14:28:00.006+01:00

If I hadn't made a French friend, I would have never known
that the water taxis from Toulon only cost 2 Euros!

Toulon is on the eastern side of a large bay. The boat taxis go out about
every 15 minutes from the harbor and make the twenty minute trek to the
neighboring cities along the bay- Le Seyne & Saint Mandrier.

This day was particularly glorious. . .

Toulon fades quickly as the boat picks up speed. . .
good thing too because the skyline is unfortunately no Chicago folks!

Massive cranes busy in the foreground, giant mountains looming
in the background. . .man v. nature anyone?

The only one brave enough(well, besides me I guess) to man the biting
cold wind outside on the boat deck.
Everyone else was huddled inside wearing their parkas and reading the paper.

This massive Navy ship was nothing less than incredibly, totally and completely intimating-
it's size, shape, and overall militant feel. It clashes with the
beautiful, serene surroundings.
Along with tourism, the military has a huge impact on the town's economy due to
its close proximity to the Toulon port.

Saint Mandrier welcomed me with an oh-so-colorful arrival.
The land was originally an island- Isle de Sépet. It was connected to the mainland
in the mid 1600's, which lead to the construction of the town.

A worker for the ferry to Corsica, enjoying the sun.

Each little boat has a cute little name.
Saint-Mandrier was home to sail-making in the 19th century. It is still a big
fishing village with loads of tiny, painted fishing boats.

Two bays created by the causeway to the mainland.
The hike up to the top opened up into a lush green wonderland with this view!

Many homes in this town have a space carved out of the stone wall for an old bell.
The walls that surround the houses are just high enough to ensure the optimum privacy, which the French lifestyle demands.

Adieu! Saint Mandrier- another little gem de France,
tucked away amongst the deep
turquoise ripples of the Mediterranean Sea.

The Frugal's Delight

2010-01-19T17:26:00.012+01:00

This is a call to the thrifty- come one, come all.

January and July- only 2 times a year-
a wonderful phenomenon occurs across the whole of France...
SALES! SALES! SALES!

These two months are designated as the time where retail stores in France are permitted
to have sales on their merchandise, and it works perfectly to draw people out of their houses and descend upon the endless racks of sale items like a vulture to its prey.

The signs are everywhere.
It's official- January has indeed arrived.

During this time it is more rare to see someone NOT
carrying a shopping bag of some size, color and design.

Ok, so we too are guilty of giving in to the pressure of cheaper goods. Sarah made a
wonderful purchase of black, knee-high boots...which one cannot survive without in France,
or at least not in Toulon.
Lily's school is up on a hill, and mother's walk their children up and down the hill(some of them 4 times a day) IN their black, high-heeled, knee-highs. Pas de problem!

Even the mattress guy at the market has his items on sale.

And even the chain grocery stores, like Ed here,
have their produce and home goods on sale.

How can one resist a poster signifying -50%?
And who cares if the sale price may be a bit high yet, it's still 50% OFF the original!

In the end, people may think that Christmas is a crazy time full of shopaholics and
moneybags spending their entire year's wages on one day of happiness... but come to France during July or January, and you'll be glad that Christmas only happens once a year.

A Lucky Sunday Find

2010-01-17T22:14:00.010+01:00

On a weekend excursion away from the bustle of Toulon, we found ourselves face to
face with nothing but an ANTIQUES MARKET! in the small town of L'Isle-sur-la-Sorgue.
We stumbled across this town on the drive to Arles, and thus, never
actually made it to Arles...maybe next time team.

L'Isle-sur-la-Sorgue is an old mill town. The small but gushing River Sorgue provided
power for the mills, fish for the villagers and great access to trade and industry.

One of the old mills, moss-covered and still crankin'.

The town is known for housing many, many antique shops, and
Sunday is the big day for the open-air markets.
Oh, and what goodies we found!

While the weather wasn't perfect, it didn't keep these people home!

Trinkets galore.

Oh yes, you BETTER get dressed up for antique-gazing here...
no slackers allowed...well, except us of course.

Another little Venice anyone?
Walking around the streets and over iron foot bridges crossing the turquoise water,
I felt like I was back in Annecy(minus the freezing snow!).

So, Sunday is antique day and the regular old market day as well- with the
fresh veg, piles of 5 Euro plastic jewelery and leggings of every color.

One guy serves the food, the other one wishes it was for him...
mmm mmmmm looks good

Children only section.
Lily looooves this part and is drawn to anything pink, because
if it's not pink it's not worth it, right?

Caught red-handed buying lettuce for her salad later.

New friends are always welcome. This is Geraud and his lovely, colorful bike that he so kindly let me try out. Oh, and he plays the recorder, too.
He then wrote me a note asking for an email with the photo, scribbling in all caps
"PLEASE SEND ME YOUR NICE FACE!
TANKS A LOT, YOUR OLD FRIEND GERAUD"

Goodbye L'Isle-sur-la-Sorgue and thanks for your cheery charm on a cloudy day.

Back on the road, and home to Toulon...
where it was thankfully sunny and almost 60 degrees!

Give Me Some of That Southern Sun

2010-01-14T10:54:00.007+01:00

Just like winter in Florida, people flock to the south of
France with the hope of feeling that lovely southern sun on their faces.

It is actually the rainy season here now, and last year at this time the region got 80% of its annual rainfall in just 2 months...ugh...I guess I happened to pick the perfect time to visit!
On a good day though, we are lucky to catch some rays from sunrise to sunset.
And when that happens, it is beyond words...

Just a 5 minute walk from the house...

Peaking through the trees!

With a sunrise like this, the entire sky is an amazing multicolored splash.

And as the sun wakes up, so do the people of Toulon. It is market day today in
Mourillon- one of the very chic areas on the eastern edge of Toulon.

Typical market stands consist of tables stacked with piles of fresh produce and
maaaaybe some type of covering if it's rainy...
but one man in Le Mourillon prefers to sell his meat right from his truck.

We have yet to discover who truly wears market clothing....it's expensive and not all that wonderful. But the ladies selling the clothes are always dressed to the nines-
which by their standards means- extra tight pants, metallic puffy coats with faux-fur hoods and heals that suggest clubbing, not marketing.

When the sun is at its highest, it cuts through the
tall buildings and narrow streets of Old Toulon.

The southern sun dries clothes out like no other.

Mother and daughter skipping along into the sunlight. We took
the long way home from the market to work on our tans, but it also
meant a lot more walking... Beauty is pain, right?

There is no better place to end a beautiful day than right along the water's edge...

AND playing on slides at the park!

We waited to see the sunset before we packed up and went home for the night,
and we could not have made a better choice.

Colors Galore!

2010-01-08T16:09:00.005+01:00

So, when it comes to colors in Toulon, I wouldn't say they over do it....but they definitely DO IT.
From houses and schools down to the small details,
Toulon is covered with a noticeable vibrance typical of French coastal towns.

A modern art gallery and personal residence compliment each other beautifully!

And for the Toulon specialty...A car to match your gate anyone?

Nearly each entrance is bejeweled with not only a brightly painted fence, but also a
colorful plaque showing the house number and sometimes a cute name.
We know people who name their boats, and sometimes their cars....here they name their houses...

Even the older, more run-down houses have a little spunk, character and of course... COLOR!

The building on the right is an école...I'd be excited to go to school
too if it was in a building that looks like the sun rising out of a sea of orange.

All shades of blue in one.

While graffiti is usually seen as dirty and ugly, it can also provide color and has an
undeniably artistic quality to it. The back alleys and small, less traveled streets are chock full of interesting displays of self-expression.

Red, white and blue REPRESENT!

The people in the south seem much happier and relaxed than up north in Paris.
It's difficult to be in a sour mood when you're surrounded by so much color and liveliness!

Who Likes Mimosas? WE DO!

2010-01-04T15:48:00.005+01:00

A new favorite town has been found! This is our last joint adventure before Hannah heads back to the Chi and leaves Erika seul en France.

So, we were originally under the impression that a mimosa was solely a wonderfully refreshing drink to sip on in the summertime...but we now know it is all that and MORE. The town of Bormes-les-Mimosas, which means 'the Sunny One', goes back to Roman times and sits high on a mountain top right off the coast.

It is full of Mimosa trees, which are the most beautifully blooming flowers around, and
such bright, bright yellow. The best time to enjoy the flower display is the end of January
into February, but we were lucky to catch a little glimpse of the wonder!

The colorful buildings and private gardens were picturesque- so lush and overflowing.

Lily fit right in that day with her bright pink dress and yellow dandelion.
*Fun fact- dandelion in French is "Pissenlit"- literally 'piss in bed'- because
they are a diuretic and make you pee yo' bed. Dandelion soup all around!!!

A child's playground! There were so many arches with hidden passageways, you never knew where you were going to end up on the other side.

Our hike up to the old Château. The grounds are now a private residence- lucky
owners whoever they may be!

The Chateau from way down below...but we finally made it up and stood on the grounds overlooking the beautiful Med and the clouded-over rolling landscape.

Since it is right on the coast and very open to invasion, Mimosa was constantly
attacked and plundered throughout the Middle Ages. The town has been restored, but
very little original architecture remains.

More passageways, we couldn't get enough of them.

Beautiful flowering vines and vines turning golden and orange from the cold
covered the already brightly painted buildings.
This was the perfect send-off back to snowy Chi-town.
Goodbye dear friend Hannah and good luck with the new job- you will be missed greatly!!!!

Hopefully we will be able to make it back for the real flower show in the future,
but for now we will be looking for a vacation home here too, so again,
anyone interested in going in on it with us?

Toulon Toulon, ALLEZ ALLEZ ALLEZ!!!

2010-01-03T14:26:00.009+01:00

Yea TOULON! Wooo!

So, we decided to put on our tough game faces and head to an Albi V Toulon rugby game. Since this was a first for both of us, we looked up the Rugby Union Rules before setting off...but were only slightly better off for our self-education of the game.

We will share with you what we picked up along the way watching these athletes, with no guards or padding, pummel each other into the plush earth of the Toulon home stadium...

And out come the teams- Toulon in red, Albi in yellow- emerging from a mysterious cloud of smoke from the far end of the field. Talk about first impressions...we knew these guys were up to no good.

The ceremonial waving of the flags-
Let the games begin!

This dedicated fan was up there aaaall night long, waving his Toulon flag for the good ol' home team. Will it help? We'll have to see....

This move here is called the scrotum, oops, scrum... and um, it is one of the 3 restarts of the game(along with a free kick or a penalty kick). The ball is thrown under the interlocked heads of the players, and each team tries to kick it backwards toward their own side to start the play.

The reds and yellows line up for a Free Kick, each team holding a player up to try and snag the ball that is kicked from the sideline to restart the game.
And THIS guy has been up, out of his seat, for minutes on end hollering about who knows what.

Classic move directed at the poor, poor ref's by the distressed crowd. And the classic phrase that accompanies this move is... "Qu'est qui à?" "Qu'est qui à?" (What happened?) We must have heard this at least once every 30 seconds throughout the 80 minute game.

"ALLEZ! ALLEZ! ALLEZ! TOULON!"
...Note the flattering red scarves.
We tried to find the vendors before the game so we too could look that good.

Lip-biting anxiety...what's going to happen...is Toulon going to pull through...?

A very nice place kick by Jonny Wilkinson, right through the goal posts. Jonny was far and away the most popular player on the field. Makin' it count with his stunning kicks, his name was announced over the intercom every single time....which was a lot.

And every once in a while as many of them as possible jump on top of each other to see just how high their man pile can get. From here the play is often over, but every once in a while the ball magically pops out from the depths and the play goes on.

Number One! Number One!!! Final score 41 to 13...Lookin' bad Albi, better luck next time....NOT

And the victory lap around the field at the end of the game.

The bright lights were dimmed in the whole stadium. A slow, sappy French song that reminded us of Titanic filled the air. The players walked along together, followed by a spotlight. They bent down periodically to pick up dirt balls that were kicked up during the game and hurled them at one another. We're all still kids at heart...

TOULON FOREVER

Le Castellet & Cassis

2010-01-01T12:57:00.009+01:00

One of the many benefits of staying with family in the south of France is that we actually have the time and the means to act like tourists. Instead of slaving away for hours in old farmhouses (we know, we know, you feel so bad for us), we have the chance to go out in the countryside and explore some of the hundreds of cute villages of Provence.

Up first was Le Castellet. We took a trip to this little town perched on a mountain top overlooking the Var on a crystalline late December day.

We went early in the morning on a Sunday during the holiday season which meant that for the most part, we had the entire town to ourselves.

Though it was almost eerily quiet, Le Castellet showed many promising signs of life -- lots of delicious looking restaurants and artisanal shops. Unfortunately, everything was locked up tight so we have a perfect excuse for coming back another time.

Most of the structures in the town, including the church (above left) and the old city wall, are constructed from this sandy colored limestone that is extracted from the valleys nearby. The old wall was surprisingly well preserved, reaching almost entirely around the base of the village.

Meandering through the narrow, winding lanes of Le Castellet, we were frequently treated to views like this out of the many archways built into the ancient ramparts.

Besides providing stellar views, those sturdy arches are great for running through!

Lily was fascinated with this old water basin where the women of Le Castellet used to fetch water. There were a few goldfish swimming around the freezing cold and some dead ones resting on the bottom...we graciously neglected to point those out.

Like most views that look out over vineyards and the sea, the one from Le Castellet's little hill was truly a sight to behold.

After our brief visit to Le Castellet, we all decided it was time to get a little closer to that sparkling sea in the distance. We had a sunny day on our hands and we weren't going to waste a minute! So, we made our way to Cassis, a little fishing town on the Mediterranean.

Upon arrival, we were immediately taken by this place. The sea was an unbelievable shade of blue (a true "cote d'azur") and people were out in large numbers to enjoy the weather. It was nice to see a French town actually appear inhabited in the winter -- apparently not all French go into hibernation in December.

The shores of Cassis have long been popular with people in this region. Phoenicians, Greeks, Romans, and Cathaginians all lived here and traded on its shores. The town was rebuilt over the ancient Roman ruins in the 17th century and over the next few centuries, continued to be popular with fishers and pleasure-seekers alike looking for a place to bask in the sun.

Cassis was a truly picturesque place with wide open pedestrian streets, trees casting dramatic shadows and vibrantly painted buildings, all made more lovely by the clearest sky imaginable. It was also surrounded by tree covered hills, dramatic limestone cliffs, and the ocean, so each little street led to a different natural wonder.

Another realllllllly nice thing about Cassis was its offering in the Patisserie Department. Over the past several months, we have been doing our best to embrace the French custom of partaking in the small joys of everyday life. One of the most integral of these small pleasures is the pastry...some of our favorites include croissant aux amandes, pain au chocolat, brioche, chaussons aux pomme, and the little beauty you see above, the macaron. Admiring the beauty of macarons is almost as enjoyable as eating them. They come in the most vibrant shades and exciting flavors.

But, let us return to that beautiful coast!!

On this particular day, happiness was definitely in the air. The French came out and did what they do best, sat in cafes and talked about life. People seemed more animated here than normal. In general the French are relatively reserved in public. However, in Cassis the spirit of the Mediterranean is definitely in the air...some people them even dared to wear colors and laugh out loud in public! Sacre bleu!

Hope you enjoyed this little tour to some of Provence's little gems. Happy Winter!

Hyères

2009-12-29T21:57:00.005+01:00

Christmas may have come and gone, but unlike Ol' Saint Nick here, we aren't going to let that get us down!!!

We are thoroughly enjoying our time here in the Provence/Cote D'Azur area. The brilliant light, dazzling sea, pebbly beaches, lavender scented valleys, rambling vineyards, and charming villages are irresistible.

About 15 minutes east of Toulon, Hyeres has a lot to offer. Besides being one of the main training areas for the French navy and the flower growing capital of France, it also has a fabulous market. The market winds its way through Hyere's old medieval center.

Markets are an absolutely central part of the social life for many people living in villages all over France. Like usual, locals and visitors were out to buy fresh produce, browse for clothing, and catch up with friends.

One interesting tidbit we've picked up on our numerous visits to French markets is the way they sell squash. The most common form of winter squash here is the one pictured above. It has the same coloring as a butternut, but is usually much bigger and has a distinctively different taste. Instead of buying the whole vegetable, tough old French ladies hack them apart and you take home whatever sized slice you need.

After our stroll through the market, we wandered the streets a bit to see what Hyeres was all about. What we found was a place that combines rustic charm, light-hearted humor, and sophisticated elegance.

The windows of the shops and restaurants are all painted for the holidays. It seemed like there was a competition for who could come up with the funniest, catchiest, or most creative design -- no traditional Santa in his sleigh here!

This area also seems to be cute-shutter capital of France. Azur blue, brilliant turquoise, periwinkle, cornflower -- the brighter the better.

We made our way up to the highest peak in town and were treated to a stunning panorama of the town and a brilliant view of the Mediterranean Sea. In the distance are a few islands that undoubtedly hold new wonders of their own -- we'll have to save that for another day!

We Wish You a Merry Christmas!

2009-12-27T22:13:00.002+01:00

Though we are having a hard time believing that Christmas actually happened, the 25th of December has come and gone and we did enjoy our share of yuletide merrymaking!

Erika's cousin Sarah and her husband Phil recently relocated to Toulon, a large city in the Provence/Cote D'Azur region. They generously opened up their home to us so we could have some family fun for Christmas.

They're home was a jolly place to spend the holiday. Sarah and Phil have two children -- Lily (4 years old) and little Zachary (14 months). Phil's parents are also here for a visit, so we had a full house!

Never a quiet moment....

Especially when the whole English speaking neighborhood stopped by for a Christmas-Eve party! Three couples and seven kids came over for drinks, appetizers, and treats. We were all treated to a sing-a-long Christmas concert, led by the older kids.

The party was also a fabulous time for ogling at all the adorable babies dressed up for the big event. Here are twins, Camille and Celeste and Sarah's son Zach. Zach was quite the ladies man that night.

So cute, right!?

Zach was proudly sporting a gift from Grandma: a white cotton button-up and a tweed blazer. The clip on tie made its debut the next day. He also discovered how fun it is to race around the house with Lily's stroller. He had the crowd enthralled the entire night!

There were so many kids around, the adults volunteered to let us keep some. Naturally, we picked out the cutest!

We've been accused by a friend of being "clucky" which apparently is an adjective used to describe women who go "awwwwwwww!!!!!" at the sight of babies or women who are feeling broody. Maybe she had a point....

Grandma's girl and Mama's boy.

Though the party started at 4, by the end of the evening we all felt like it was 2am (except for Lily who doesn't really get the whole "tired" thing). Turns out making sure 9 kids stay out of trouble for a few hours is exhausting. Huh, who knew?

What seemed like a very few hours later, Christmas morning arrived!!!! We awoke to Lily's excited chant, "DADDY! TIME TO GET UP!!! DADDY! TIME TO GET UP!!! DADDY TIME TO GET UP!!!!"

There is nothing quite like sharing this morning with little kids. Even at 7a.m., the excitement was contagious.

After a marathon present session -- highlights including an outdoors playhouse, an indoors school house, a rocking-moose, a play-dough kitchen set, and a tool bench -- we were treated to a chocolate chip pancake breakfast, courtesy of Phil.

After breakfast, we honored the established Christmas tradition of breaking in all the new toys. Sarah read on her kindle, Hannah finally figured out which direction is north thanks to the compass function on her iphone, and Lily made green beans and hamburgers out of play-dough.

Zach, in between laps around the house with the stroller, also managed to take a peak at play-dough action. Being too small must be very frustrating when you're so curious.

All dressed up for the big dinner.

The biggest Christmas treat was this first sight of the beach. Our first days in Toulon
were rainy and grey, so when the sky cleared up on Christmas, (A Real Christmas Miracle?!)
we were thrilled to explore the Mediterranean coast.

Nothing in the world can compare to the feeling of walking on a beautiful shore. There is just something so incredibly soothing about the rhythm of the waves, the slight give of the sand underfoot, the rays of sunshine, and the reflection of light off the water.

The French here in Provence seem to share our passion for the sun, sand, and the good life.
The coast is always packed with people, young and old, out relaxing, exercising,
and generally enjoying their time together.

Wouldn't you feel the same way if these were the views you were treated to every day?
This must be a key part of the reason why Mediterranean people live so long.

To all of our family and friends all over the world,
we hope you had a Joyeux Noel and Bonne Annee 2010

16 Years Later and A Little Munchkin

2009-12-26T15:23:00.009+01:00

After leaving picturesque Annecy, Chris and I traveled a little farther north to a relatively small city called Thonon-les-Bains. It is situated right off of Lake Geneva, in the Savoy region, with a little over 30,000 inhabitants. We stepped off the train into more cold and snow and were greeted by a very, very special person...

I have to put this picture first and foremost because after not seeing seeing one another for SIXTEEN years(when Chris was just 6 years old)...Chris and his former au pair, Sylvie, were reunited!!! It was a truly wonderful and joyful reunion to witness in every way- recounting memories of long ago, comparing old photos to new ones, and getting to know Sylvie's husband and 4 1/2 year old daughter Elina(pronounced El-een-ah).

AMAZING!

We went to visit Château d'Allignes, a gorgeous place where Sylvie and her family frequent on Sundays to hike, picnic, and see the stunning views.

Little Elina badly needed new boots and constantly had freezing toes...lucky her got to be carried...I miss those days!!

Snowy peaks in the distance.

View of Lake Geneva from the Chateau grounds. In the summer the lake is flooded with tourists, vacationers, and boaters but this time of year people flock to the surrounding mountains to ski.

This path leading up from the Château was lined with holly bushes, the tiny red berries standing out against the stark white snow.

Evian happened to be a very close drive from their house, so we took a little visit to see if the infamous water was really THAT good right from the source...it was pretty spectacular. There were 3 different places throughout the town with fountains where people line up with bags of water bottles to fill with fresh Evian water.

Each holiday season Evian commissions an artist to decorate the town. This year, the artist collected piles and piles of driftwood from the lake and formed them into faces, animals and unidentifiable creatures and lit them with an eerie orange glow. OoooOOOooOOOOO

Many of the creatures had big enough hollow insides to accommodate kids climbing in and out.
These creatures were pretty daunting and seem like recreations of a child's nightmare...I guess French children are just extra brave...

Carousels have been huge in France ever since the first carousel was built for the Universal Exposition of 1889 in Paris. The Exposition was a World's Fair held on the 100th anniversary of the start of the French Revolution, and is also the reason the monumental Eiffel Tour was built. This particular carousel was great because it was free for little Elina to ride for as loooong as she pleased...well...only because the pour daddy's got to push it around in circles themselves. HA!

And of course, like everywhere else we've been, we could not stay away from the local market. The only difference at this market is that it was FREAKING COLD and people were still out spending their Euros. Incredible.

Tough market-goers.

Elina was a little unsure about the cheese guy...

Wrapped in their warmest winter garb...

Back at the house, a snowball fight ensued. They recently moved to a small area on the edge of Thonon and built the whole house themselves. The house is mostly finished- with new oven arriving only days before us. Their big, snow-covered yard was perfect for making tons of bonhommes de neige(snowmen).

You can't catch me!

Oh yea, wanna bet?!
Elina wanted so badly to "faire l'été", or make summer, which to her meant making snowmen out of all the snow in the yard so that it would disappear and feel more like summertime. She is in an only child and absolutely loved having Chris and I there for a while so we could play games and make snowmen together.

I cannot emphasize enough just how wonderful the three days were that we were lucky enough to spend with Sylvie's family. We will hopefully be able to go back in the summer some year to go paragliding with Eric and swimming at their special place on Lake Geneva. While I did not want to see Chris go, this was a perfect end to his 12 days in France avec moi!!

Walk like an Egyptian!

2009-12-25T11:04:00.009+01:00

Some of you may have noticed a little change in the blog over the past couple of weeks. The dynamic duo split up for a brief time (thank God we're finally reunited!!!!). I thought I'd fill everyone in on what I've been up to...

Ever since I was a kid, I've always dreamed of going Egypt. A lucky combination of impulse, dear friends in Cairo, sense of adventure, and cheap airfare thanks to Orbitz (I'm willing to be a spokesperson if they are looking!) allowed me to live out my childhood dream and fly to Egypt for a whirlwind week.

Here is the lovely, funny, brilliant, sassy Farah who hosted me in her home in Cairo for the week. She is the ultimate tour guide and made sure to show me as much in one week as humanly possible. We saw all the tourist spots and so much more. She showed me a whole spectrum of places that tourists never go: from the graveyard-turned-slum called the "city of the dead" to the swanky restaurant where the chicest of Cairo residents go to see and be seen.

Even though I was only there for a short period of time, I feel like I got a true glimpse into this vibrant, exotic, constantly-changing country. Egypt is a placed deeply marked by its layered and fascinating history. But, it is also a country entrenched in modern geopolitics, religion, and culture. She helped me see how much more the place has to offer than pyramids and pharaohs (though those are incredible, too!).

One of my first impressions of Cairo was how colorful it was. Tapestries, carpets, colored glass lanterns, apartment buildings, cars...everything was so vivid and bright...a striking contrast to the constant presence of blowing dust and sand.

Personalities on the street reflected this brightness as well. For the most part, I found the people friendly, interested (sometimes far TOO interested), generous, and open.

Some of these streets seemed like they were right out of Aladdin! The streamers here are left up from Ramadan celebrations. From what Farah and her family told me, during the month of Ramadan, Cairo is transformed into a kaleidoscope of light and color with these streamers decking out the streets and colored glass lanterns hanging all over the place.

After spending two and a half months in a predominantly Christian country where every city is built around a glorious cathedral and each village has its little chapel, the mosques of Cairo were a beautiful and fascinating change. The elegant domes and sky-reaching minarets dominate the cityscape while the call to prayer is a constant reminder to the faithful.

Though the vast majority of Egyptians are Muslim, there was still a little Christmas cheer to be found. I really liked the contrast of this very American looking Christmas tree tucked into a very Oriental-looking cove. These guys selling Santa gear were also all over the place selling eerie looking masks.

One of the things I loved most about Egypt was the architecture and design. Like the scene on the street, traditional Egyptian interiors are colorful and every little corner has interesting design elements. This was in an old merchants home we toured -- it was a haven of tranquil and artistic touches. Arches, stripes, and nature-inspired designs are the dominant features.

On my first night in Cairo, Farah took me to a folk music and dance concert. It was held in an incredibly well preserved medieval caravansary which is a covered market place bazaar. The rhythmic drumming, energetic horn melodies, and dizzying dancing were a wonderful introduction to Egypt. I was completely entranced.

Apparently, this kind of dancing is part of a tradition related to Sufi-ism. The man in the green spins around for an extended period of time (in his case, an entire hour). The spinning is supposed to put him in an elevated state of mind, closer to God.

And finally, no trip to Egypt is complete without a visit to the pyramids. You know how sometimes you can build something up in your mind, imagining how great it is all your life, and then when you finally see it, there is a bit of a let down? This was definitely NOT one of those times. Whatever expectations I had, they were completely surpassed by the pyramids. The sheer size and grandeur were breathtaking.

Surrounding the three great pyramids are several smaller pyramids and temples. The walls of the temples are covered with hieroglyphics. I desperately needed my hieroglyphic-reading kit I got for my 7th birthday so I could decode this secret message but sadly I didn't think to bring it with me to France. Too bad! From my elementary knowledge of ancient Egyptian, I think this says something along the lines of "King Tut is the bomb."

Because the pyramids are a hot-spot for tourists, there are lots of guys wandering around trying to offer various services to visitors. We were approached by about one thousand different men trying to offer us tours, camel rides, horse back rides, and fake VIP tours of the pyramids. Our practice was to just look away and say "shukron" meaning "thanks, but no thanks."

Unfortunately, a few people didn't really get the message and were in a fierce competition for our business. The argument devolved into a full blown fight. I was the only one who seemed to find this strange, they're apparently incredibly common. In the end, I didn't end up getting on either of their camels...but eventually, I did get on one!!!

Back in France now, it's hard to believe all that actually happened. It was a trip I will never forget -- Farah and her family showed me an incredible amount of humor, warmth, and generosity. Now, I just have to figure out a way to go back!

Baby It's COLD Outside

2009-12-23T12:20:00.013+01:00

Annecy, home of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, is a beautiful town in the Savoie(Savoy) region of eastern France, only about 26 miles from Geneva. It is a big ski town on the northern edge
of Lac d'Annecy, with the mountains which seem to rise straight out of the water. The
Thiou canal, a former industrial route, runs through the center of town. With the stone
bridge crossings and little island, it gave Annecy the nickname "little Venice".

Upon arrival we were greeted by bitingly chilly air and dramatic cloud-cover over the
town and lake. Were we at all prepared for the weather? Hells no. Did we still attempt
to venture out of our cozy 10' x 10' hotel room? Hells yes.

Annecy is situated more or less on the northwestern tip of the lake. We walked for a good 2 hours along the path across the entire northern edge(ok fine, so that's the short end, so what...) to Annecy-le-Vieux, awed by the clear water of the lake and cursing our frozen, dripping noses.

Annecy has recently been noted as being one of the oldest inhabited sites in the
Northern Alps, with research dating Annecy-le-Vieux back to 3,100BC.

Believe it...or not...because we didn't believe it at first either- we witnessed the process of a woman strip down layers of jacket and fleece and pants and gloves and socks to nothing but a skimpy bikini and, to our absolute horror, wade slowly into the ice-cold water.

Her bright pink body emerged from the water after what seemed a long enough time that she should no longer be breathing, and proceeded to run, barefoot, along the path toward us.
We stood, shocked, in utter disbelief...

Bird line- it was way too cold, even for the birds, to do much else
than stand at attention and shiver together.

This, dear friends, is nothing other than a swan butt on Lac d'Annecy. Look closely, almost as if you were going to be quizzed on the subject later…The water was so clear that when a swan did dive down for food, you could still see its entire head digging around on the lake floor.

Annecy by night. Like every other French town/village that we have passed through, regardless of their size, there were Christmas lights here too, strung in the sky above the major streets.

Our second morning we woke to a wonderful surprise just out the window- SNOW! Throughout the day the town was being covered with powdery fluff, adding to the Christmas cheer and décor.

This is the Palais de L'Isle in the center of town, dating back to the early 12th century.
It was originaly home to the lords of Annecy, then became a prison in the Middle Ages,
and is now a historic site and museum.

From across the way we could see that the seagulls were going crazy, as if something major
was interrupting their lives… On closer inspection something amazing was indeed happening
in their world- baguettes. This woman stood on the edge of the bridge, holding bread out
in her hand and letting the seagulls grab it with their beaks right from her fingertips.

Pont des Amours and the canal in the winter wonderland.

Ok, so you remember the image of the swan butt right? Here is the test- can you distinguish
the swan butt from the buoy in this picture? At times, looking out over the many boats lining
the lake and canal, it seemed as if hundreds of swans were all diving for food at once.

The mountains were invisible in the background.

Chilly, chilly day looking down over the city. Two of the churches we visited in Annecy were made of white stone, which blended in nicely with the white city after the snowfall.

Avez-vous des gants?” (Do you have gloves?) This became Chris’ most frequently repeated question, always with spitting sarcasm, after we were not allowed to skate in Rodez because
we didn’t both have gloves. Apparently the French take their skating very seriously and
under NO circumstance do they skate without their gloves. It’s a very dangerous affair
you know? ...But once you are on the ice you are allowed to skate in whichever direction
you choose… hm, so maybe the lack of gloves isn’t the real problem after all.

Ice dotted with colored lights.

Our stay in Annecy ended much too quickly, but was filled with many wonders despite the cold. We are moving on to Thonon-les-Bains, only an hour and a half away to the north.

One More Goodbye

2009-12-19T10:33:00.012+01:00

Our last days in Valady were filled with dramatic weather,
dropping temperatures, a new project and a very cold but beautiful bike ride
through one small town built of red, red brick after the next.

With each place we have been, the goodbyes are always sad in that
you feel as if you are leaving home all over again. You get used to but never bored with, the magnificent landscapes, the wonderful people and the routine of everyday life.

Almost every morning in Valady we woke up to a fog so thick we would have thought we were the only inhabitants for miles. It wasn't until about 1PM that the sun's heat would finally begin to lift the fog just enough to reassure us of the existence of our neighbors down the valley.

I knew the day Hannah left would mark the beginning of a not-so-bright future...
and for me that meant a day of the moving of the rocks from one pile into many separate piles. Like any work though, it is always the company that dictates how the day will go.

If I have learned one thing chez Anges, it is this-
it's impossible to have a simply average day in the company of Steven and Christian....

Christian lifts a rock...OH MY GOD...the biggest thing he did all day,
while Steven chides him for being an only child and being used to having everything
done for him. The friendly harassment continued for the good part of the day.

After a little display of strength and determination, Steven at last gets that
resistant root out of the ground. We are making way for a stone wall that will be built
by the next batch of helpxers. We hoped to start it ourselves, but rock sorting
and digging took much, much longer than expected....

Of course, the only child takes a break...one of many for him that day.
It's tough for such a little man to lift such big, big rocks.

Something has finally begun on the roof of Anges' future dwelling.
These lovely gentlemen are hard at work right next to us and our rock piles-
smoking, singing, and yelling as they pass the long, wood beams through the air to one
another. The sun peeks out and warms us all up for a while.

Steven helps out with the roof when he can and does NOT believe these guys
are doing it the correct way, but hey, they're having fun, so hopefully it lasts and won't
collapse on Agnes enjoying her fire on a long winter's night.

The workers perch unsteadily and unafraid high above the cement ground of
the foundation below. Christian looks at them like they are crazy because of course,
you could not pay him to get up there himself.

Lonely bridge in the fog.

And one night, Agnes decides it would be nice to take us to an art opening. It was a lovely thought, but little does she know she cannot take us anywhere without expecting to be slightly embarrassed by us. We tried to be on our best behavior...

The last weekend, Chris and I took a bike ride through the hills in the freezing cold and on bikes that did not have low gears- no one said everything about living in France was easy...

We happened on a tiny, local cemetery just before the sun dropped behind the mountains.
Each mausoleum was quite decked out with flowers- both real and not, stone souvenirs and photos of the deceased. Money does not grow on trees in this region,
but one would never know that by this elaborate display.

The hills that define this region in every direction- sometimes more flat or rolling, and sometimes very steep and dramatic, but always stunning and peaceful in the late afternoon sun.

Goodbye Valady!

Full House

2009-12-17T11:16:00.012+01:00

The Agnes household has been a busy one lately...

Chris arrived a few days ago, just as we were giving a tearful farewell to Elizabeth, who headed back to Austria for a holiday with the family. Then, two of Agnes' grand kids came for the weekend, filling the house with piano playing, singing, imagination and youthful laughter...
they both speak very good English and love to repeat things they hear their daddy say
when he gets mad like "bloody hell" and "jesus christ". Dennis, a former helper,
also stayed the weekend, as the man he's been working for went out of town.

A night of bread-making.

Hmmm, now, how does this work again...?

Casper, Agnes' grandson, had a birthday a few days before, so we decided to have a
little cake and singing for him. He turned the big 7 and was pretty happy about it.

I think it was more his spit that put the candles out than his blowing....

Three more to go. C'mon Casper!

Mother and son.

Like most children, Casper immediately took a liking to Chris. You know life's ok
when you can still act like a child once in a while. Birthday boy even got to cut his own cake, which is something I know I was not allowed to do when I was 7. I'm not even sure I
even knew what a knife was much less how to use one- thanks mom and dad!

Then, after the kids retired, a playful boxing match ensued between
Steven and Dennis in the dining room...

swift kick...someone's had a little experience with this- unfair advantage?

All ended well with both of them sprawled out on the tile floor and Steven in a headlock.

My, What A Belle Castle!

2009-12-13T10:49:00.010+01:00

It just so happens that we have been living right next to yet another town on the "top 20 prettiest villages in France" list. Of course, like Minerve, a big sign welcomed us into Belcastel, not letting us pass by without duly noting its claim to fame. The striking castle, which dates from the 11th century, gave the village its name and towers above the town like a guardian angel.

No town is complete without the old men. In this case they took it upon themselves to fish the river from the top of the bridge, which was thirty feet above the water. There was plenty of space to fish along the empty riverbanks but where's the challenge in that huh?

Like most of the other villages we pass through, this one was constructed expertly in stone, from the buildings to the pathways.

Off to the edge of town there was a strange little dwelling that did not match the rest, but showed clear signs of life inside...

The grounds of the castle were closed for the season, but from the road we could glimpse little patches of bright green, moss-covered landscaping and pools of water flowing from one into the next down the hillside.

Faces of the Rodez Marché

2009-12-09T21:42:00.006+01:00

For each small town we have lived in, there is always a certain joy and sense of adventure with an excursion to the closest "big" city. For us here in Aveyron, that closest big city is Rodez, home to less than 30, 000 inhabitants and current host of France's most popular and reputable circus- Cirque Amar!

Saturday is market day in Rodez, and since it has been a while since we've been able to feed our constant craving of French markets, we jumped at the chance to go. At first the markets were mostly about the different foods and cheeses and meats that we could fine- wonderful little treasures. But as we continue to frequent the markets of southern France we've found another little joy to look forward too...people watching! And yes, while of course there is nowhere near the diversity and uniqueness of bustling Chi-town streets, there are definitely some gems to be found among the many attendees of a Saturday marché...

This is Elisabeth, our lovely friend from Austria who has been at Agnes' for over 6 weeks now! She grew up on a pig farm in the countryside of Austria and has many intriguing stories about farm life, birthing piglets and accidentally falling asleep in the pigpen when she was little.

Hmmm, now if only I could remember what it is I came here for.....

Wook at awww da vegetables.

Oo La La, so serious on a Saturday morning!

Bozouls Bizzles

2009-12-09T16:54:00.011+01:00

This part of France seems to have more than its fair share of fascinating, beautiful, and peculiar little villages. Luckily, Agnes lets us use her car to make day trips so we've been able to go out and do lots of exploring.

Each little village we visit has its own unique appeal...something that sets it apart from the dozens of other cloyingly attractive villages nearby.

Bozoul's claim to fame is the breathtaking "Trou de Bozouls." The Dordou river hollowed out a canyon, leaving a 500 meter limestone plateau. Most of the old part of the village is perched up on the narrow plateau, seemingly teetering on the edge. The rest of it is scattered around the bottom of canyon.

Near the edge of the plateau looking out over the abyss is the church of St. Fauste -- a rather stern, abandoned looking place. The church almost looks haunted framed by the leaf-less, spindly trees. (Doesn't the one on the left look like a person shaking their fists at the sky?!)

After exploring the part of the village on the plateau, we made our way down to the bottom of the gorge to explore from a different angle. Besides offering a great perspective of the upper village, we also got a better look at the Dordou. The tint of the water comes from the high iron content in the soil -- the same thing that colors all the rock red.

A look back at the different levels of Bozoul -- kind of like a 3-tiered wedding cake!

Mamma Mia!!!

2009-12-07T16:43:00.007+01:00

We've been sharing kitchen duty for the past week and eating really well. However when Christian, the Italian helper, broke out his genetically bestowed pasta making skills last night, he definitely took the prize.

The anticipation had been building for days...

First, there was a skype phone call to Grandma back in Italy for the recipe.

Then, we had to make a trip to the market to get all the right ingredients -- of course, it was impossible to get all the right ones in France, but we came close.

Finally, right after lunch on Sunday, the chef got to work.

First came the prep work. The work surface had to be perfect and the ingredients weighed precisely .

Eggs cracked lovingly into a little mound of flour.

Then it was time to work the dough. It came together pretty well, but something was a little off. Another skype call to Grandma was in order. After a heated discussion in Italian, (something like..."How-a could you mess-a up-a da pasta! Mama Mia!") Christian reported with sadness that he had made a mistake. Too many eggs.

But, like a good chef does, Christian bounced right back. On to the filling for the pasta: potato, blue cheese, and chopped walnuts.

Once the filling was ready and the dough had had a little rest, he got to rolling. No pasta machine for this guy, it was all about the rolling pin.

Hand stuffed tartalle!

The warrior after battle, tired but proud.

The chef and his masterpiece. The

finished product was topped with a heavenly butter and sage sauce.

Seven hours after he began, we dug in...it was absolutely incredible! Christian insists it wasn't nearly as good as Grandma's, but it tasted phenomenal to us.

Buon Appetito!

At Home in Aveyron

2009-12-06T09:24:00.012+01:00

We are now helpxing with a fabulous French woman named
Agnes who lives in the Aveyron department.

We are technically still in southwestern France and only about two hours north of Ventenac,
but everything is just a little different. That's the wonderful thing about France. Each little
region has its own special feel, a unique "terroir" that is hard to put into words but
manifests itself in the architecture, the landscape, and the spirit of the people.

Here is Chez Agnes! Her home is a cozy 120 year old farmhouse.

Her property also includes two other buildings, both in the process of being renovated.
This one is still in the relatively early stages. One of the great things about helpxing
is helping our hosts realize their dreams. A few years ago, this building was little more
than a pile of rocks. In a few years, Agnes plans on moving in their herself!

Another one of Agnes' dreams is to have a clean house. One of our main
projects this past week has been to make that dusty, spider-web filled dream a reality.

Sneak peak into our bedroom!!! Looks a little bit like summer camp (or an orphanage), right?

Meal times here are also quite an affair. Three meals a day, the five of us helpers (the other three are Elizabeth from Austria, Stephen from Belgium/Mars, and Christian from Italy) and Agnes come together for discussion, laughter, and good eats. We are so incredibly fortunate to have tons of great food at our fingertips -- luckily, we are all of the same mindset that savoring delicious food is one of life's greatest pleasures. The fireplace is pretty nice too.

A lot of the food we are enjoying comes straight out of Agnes' top notch garden.

These lettuce rows are 10x better and 99% cheaper than any Whole Foods produce aisle!

We also tend to Agnes' chickens. Stephen has established quite a
relationship with them and they go crazy for his daily gift of the kitchen compost.

And of course, they leave us little gifts too!

The view out of the back yard. Looks like we've found another little patch of paradise!

Conques

2009-12-05T01:50:00.008+01:00

We are back in la belle France!

We got on the train in Munich, picked up the night train in Paris and many hours later, arrived at the station in the little village of St. Christophe. We are currently helpxing with a French woman named Agnes who lives in a big old farmhouse in Valady-en-Aveyron.

But, more on all that later. This post is all about one particular village we visited this week that ranks high up on the list of prettiest places we've seen in France.

Conques is located on top of a little hill in the quiet Dordou valley.
It has narrow, winding lanes and fairy tale-esque timbered houses.

One of the first things we noticed walking into town was all the reddish pink stone walls and slate colored roofs. It turns out, those two features are sort of trademarks of this area. The soil in the Aveyron region is very high in iron. The high iron content gives everything from dirt to water to the stone a red tinge. The red is a beautiful contrast to the cool grey of the tiled roofs.

Apparently Conques is quite a touristy place in the high season. Luckily, December is far from high tourist season in this part of the country so we basically had the whole town to ourselves. The serene quiet that came as a result of it being empty added to the
sense that we were in a place mysteriously stuck in time.

Conques as a whole is incredibly well preserved and has a sort of enchanting effect (or at least it did on us!). Most of the roads are too narrow to accommodate traffic and meander around leading to little closed gardens, through tunnels,
and to strange staircases leading to nowhere in particular.

The buildings themselves are just so cute -- there isn't really a better word for them!
Many of the structures seems sort of haphazard with
oddly slanting roofs and stones just randomly cobbled together.

Conques is also a main passage for pilgrims on the Santiago de Compostela -- the famous pilgrimage that goes through France and across Northern Spain.

The big church in the center of town -- the Abbey of Saint Foy -- was built in the 12th century and is an important example of Romanesque architecture. Romanesque architecture is usually characterized by solidity and strength -- this was definitely the impression given by the Abbey.

Starnbeeeeeerg

2009-12-02T20:10:00.007+01:00

This Turkey Day, we had a lot to be thankful for...

Though we were far away from most of our family, we had wonderful company to share the holiday with.

We were staying in Starnberg (pronounced shhtaaahrnberg), a little city just outside of Munich with John and Rosi who were generous enough to put up with our antics for several days. Starnberg is best known for its beautiful lake and view of the mountains (those are the ALPS, ok?!).

Our Thanksgiving began with a good walk to work up an appetite and burn some extra calories for the big meal to come.

Our walk was quite the aerobic activity and even included a detour to the gym. Ahhhh, those hamstrings. Feel the burn! And notice cousin Matt and his wife Tina workin' the obliques. They're putting the love back in "love handles"!

Coach John looking on to make sure we don't pull a muscle or throw our backs' out.

On our walk, we passed by John and Rosi's boat club (site of the gym) situated on Lake Starnberg. They are active rowers and members of a team.

Matt and Tina strolling along the dock.

Some of the boats used for rowing.

Our promenade also took us over the little hill that separates Starnberg from the countryside and into another beautiful gorge.

By this time, dinner was still a few hours away and we had worked up quite an appetite. Luckily, German children have great minds for business. Unlike their American counterparts, these kids did not limit themselves to selling lemonade. Oh no no no. They made waffles with Nutella ("bio waffels," in fact -- meaning organic!). This fueled us for our long way home. Quite a deal for 60 cents!

The little kinders selling waffles weren't the only ones out doing business that day. This man on the right was in front of use attempting to bike his way back in to town. Let's just say his path was more than a little curvy. Apparently though, he needed more help from the beer cart man on the right who kindly obliged with a cold bottle.

When we arrived back home, Rosi had the entire Thanksgiving feast waiting for us. Incredible service!

We helped out a bit by preparing the pies -- a pumpkin and an apple, and some yummy cornbread.

An expertly carved turkey.

The day after our Thanksgiving feast we celebrated the beginning of the Christmas season with a visit to one of Munich's famous Christkindl markets.

The market was made up of lots of stalls adorned with evergreen and full of handmade goodies, traditional toys, delicious German delicacies, and happy people all wrapped up in holiday cheer!

Thanks again to our wonderful hosts, John and Rosi. Our visit was nothing short of stellar.

Garmisch -- Back to Nature!

2009-12-01T15:19:00.007+01:00

Everyday on this trip has been pretty epic but some days tend to stick out above the rest as particularly memorable. In fifty years when we are sitting in our rockers telling stories of the good ol' days, this day trip to Garmisch will be a highlight.

One of the greatest things about Munich is how close it is to incredible mountains, and peaceful Bavarian villages. Garmisch is only an hour south of the city, but in some ways it felt like we were taking a step back in time.

Just to reiterate -- these are the ALPS (not that anyone could possibly not know what mountain they were visiting...)

The winding path we took to our destination led us along a river of fresh alpine water, through a quiet neighborhood of shingled homes and next to quaint farms with sheep. We even encountered our first "Alpine-type" man decked out in lederhosen, a linen shirt, and a feathered-felted cap.

Set in a valley in the Alps, Garmisch is also a popular destination for winter sports. This is part of the Olympic Ski Stadium the Nazis built for the 1936 winter games (and is still in use). In its day, the stadium held an incredible 100,000 spectators. We both decided ski jumping is NOT our sport -- so terrifying!

The reason we made the trip to Garmisch was to hike to Partnahklamm. Partnachklamm is a spectacular gorge with a gushing river running through. A pathway and tunnels have been constructed along the side and up into the limestone hills to allow visitors to get a view of this incredible natural beauty.

It is always invigorating to escape the hustle and bustle of the city and go somewhere quiet. There were a few other visitors there, but in general, we were alone to commune with the elements.

This place was awesome in the original sense of the word. We were in total awe of the sheer size and dramatic beauty of the place.

The combination of solid rock, turquoise water, red leaves, evergreens, blue sky, and snow capped mountains was unlike anything else.

Munich

2009-11-29T09:09:00.011+01:00

Munich is a new city to both of us and one we wish we could spend more time in. The people were active and friendly, the architecture was impressive, and the countryside surrounding the city was stunning. We approached this new place like we have all others, lots of walking around, a little getting lost, and eating and drinking local delicacies.

Monumental Baroque-style architecture, like this church in Odeonsplatz, gives Munich a very stately feel while the brightly colored exteriors help to keep it light.

Munich also has many gardens in its city center. We were serenaded by this classical quintet while strolling through the Hofgarten. Apparently, not everyone was enjoying the music as much as we were...

Munich also boasts a fabulous, permanent food market right of the Marienplatz -- the city's main square. It is called the Viktualienmarkt and is loaded with all kinds of Bavarian delicacies.

At night, at least at this time of year, Munich becomes even more lovely. Christmas season is definitely under way here and yuletide cheer is all over. Also notice all the bikers -- the city is incredibly bike friendly with designated lanes and strictly followed share-the-road rules.

Our friends we are staying with told us we shouldn't miss Dallmayr -- a luxury delicatessen in the center of town. Dallmayr is a Munich landmark, dating back to the 17th century. Inside, it reminded us a bit of Marshall Field's at Christmas time with wreaths, garlands, and reindeer adorning every bit of wall space.

Tschus!

The True Breakfast of Champions

2009-11-28T08:48:00.005+01:00

Gutentag!

Usually, our breakfasts consist of yogurt and fruit or oatmeal or whole wheat toast -- pretty standard, healthy, fare.

In France, we've enjoyed the occasional baguette or croissant with a cafe au lait.

But we never expected to see this at 8 am.

As part of our effort to embrace every new opportunity presented to us, we dove into this traditional Bavarian breakfast spread. Clockwise from the top: Zeibelwurst (raw pork and onion), smoked ham, Gelbwurst, goat cheese, liverwurst, Prsack (gelatinized pork sausage).

The morning sun shining through gelatinized, cubed, pork. A thing of beauty, ya?

The meat and cheese is traditionally served with these rolls, called Semmel and dark rye bread.

Wheaties has nothing on us!

To Ceret!

2009-11-25T20:19:00.014+01:00

From Ventenac, we traveled about an hour south to the village of Ceret to visit some French friends -- Mado and Patrice.

Ceret is situated in the Pyrenees-Orientales part of the Languedoc Rousillon region of France. The village is tucked away in a valley at the foothills of the mountains and minutes from the shore of the Med. It is also part of French Catalonia and the Catalan influence is everywhere from the accent of the language to the politics of the people to the flavor of the food.

Mado and Patrice treated us to a whirlwind weekend of fantastic meals and exciting little outings.

One of those outings was to Collioure, a great seaside village boasting lots of art galleries, outdoor cafes, and of course, unbeatable views...

This is a traditional Catalan fishing boat docked at Collioure. The trick, apparently, is that they go out at night and drop a lantern into the water, attracting fishies. Whatever the technique, they are doing it right because the seafood in this region is amazing!

We also had two opportunities to visit Spain.

Figueres is one of the first cities you come to entering Spain. It is the birthplace of Dali and a center of Catalan culture. Mado was coming into town for a Catalan language/cultural exchange program and we tagged along, so glad we did!

One piece of Catalan culture we learned...they take their ham really seriously.

This is a musician who performed at the Catalan language exchange event we went attended. None of us were able to figure out what this instrument was, but the sound it produced was awesome and unlike anything we'd ever heard.

We took a second day-trip into Spain with friends of Mado and Patrice's. We enjoyed a great Spanish meal in the center of a little medieval village called St. Marti D'Empuries and a leisurely stroll along the coast. What more could you ask for out of an afternoon?

Don't trip, Patrice! He was completely absorbed by his newspaper for a good part of the walk.

Our walk followed the winding coastline...

took us along the beach...

led us to the site of an ancient Roman town named Empuries. It is still being excavated, but from what we could see, it is massive.

Eventually, we ended up in the town of L'Escala. While it was relatively calm on this November day, apparently, it is hopping in the summer months!

Happy Thanksgiving to all back home!!!! Thinking of you...

A Bientot, Ventenac

2009-11-24T20:12:00.007+01:00

Au revoir Canal du Midi...

We'll miss you ...

(even though you aren't looking your finest at the moment, in the process of being drained)

We'll miss all the new friends we made. Lexi, Julia, Mike, Nina, and good ol' Teg!

The gourmet dinners we had...

The laughs we shared with both of our wonderful hosts. Thanks Julia. Thanks Sundara and David!

It's strange to leave after a month in such a peaceful, idyllic place. But, we are on to new adventures and will take with us all the wonderful memories of the work we did, the fun we had, and the great friends we made along the way.

We might even be back before too long...

From Nar to Bar

2009-11-19T15:08:00.016+01:00

One of the many many wonderful things about Europe is how easy it is, in the matter of a few hours, to be in an entirely new place. Hopping the train from Narbonne to Barcelona, we felt this immediately. When we stepped off onto the platform in Barcelona, everything was just so different. A different language, different customs, different attitude, different cuisine, different landscape.

We only had a short stay in Barcelona, but it made a strong impression. From what we saw, Barcelona is a vibrant, diverse, relaxed, and fun-loving city.

Perched between the Collserola mountain range and the shores of the mediterranean, Barcelona is a visually impressive city. City planners have definitely taken advantage of this asset -- there is lots of green space all over and a great beach front.

Barcelona seems like the kind of place where people are going, going, going all the time, but also understand the importance of taking it easy (sometimes even in the middle of the street?).

While many of Barcelona's buildings are quite modern, there are definitely some grand old places like the kinds you'd expect to find in a big European city. This is the National Museum of Art of Catalonia.

One of the centers of activity in Barcelona is La Rambla, a long pedestrian street through the center of the city leading to the shore. Markets, shops, restaurants, and lots of people...

The Cathedral of Barcelona, constructed between the 13th and 15th centuries.

In stark contrast to this imposing, serious old building is all the funky modern art all over the city.

Catalan modernisme art and architecture left quite a legacy in Barcelona. The style was dominant from about 1880 until the 1950s and its mark is everywhere in the city, like this prominent sculpture near the beach.

The best known modernisme artist was Antoni Gaudi. The movement he helped to define was defined by Catalan nationalism and a rejection of bourgeois values. Gaudi's work is characterized by rich decoration, bright colors, inspiration from nature and whimsical curves.

Park Guell is one of the best examples of Gaudi's creative genius.

It is an enormous park on a hill with architectural elements both blending in with and extenuating the natural beauty of the area.

A great thing about Park Guell is the buskers playing really good music around every corner. These guys were maybe the best street musicians we've ever seen. Very Barcelona.

One of the best parts about Barcelona is its water front...where residents and tourists alike come for a fun time.

Work It Guuurl

2009-11-17T17:10:00.006+01:00

Our time here has been more than just frolicking along the canal, nibbling cheese, and sipping wine...we work too!

Here is the crew we've been with for most of the time at Chateau Ventenac. You probably recognize the two work-horses on the left...then comes MaryAnne, Nick and Lexi from England and Nina from Australia.

One of our biggest projects here, and by far the one we are the most proud of, is the banister.

See the before and after? From drab to fab!!!!

Notice the fine gold detail work...we're no amateurs anymore.

Some of the spots were incredibly hard to reach. The only way to get to these pesky lil spots was to dangle a vanity mirror over the ledge and hope for the best.

More projects: Nick and MaryAnne painting the front windows and Nina getting her caulk on.

Here is a shot of our lovely bedroom...we added our personal touch by doing the blue swirly accent work on the doors to the bathroom and the closet.

After a long day, a cold beer!

La Ville en Rose

2009-11-16T22:13:00.015+01:00

With so much to do and see in the local area, we haven't strayed very far from Ventenac. But, we also didn't want to waste the opportunity of being close to so many exciting places without giving them a chance...so we made a road trip (aka train trip) to Toulouse.

We were up bright and early, greeted by a peaceful, misty sunrise.

We arrived at the Lezignan-Corbieres SNCF train station and boarded our speedy "TGV" train to Toulouse. The French have mastered the art of effective, enjoyable train travel. Trains are almost always on time, clean, and the journey is smooooooth.

Nina admiring the gorgeous landscape between Lezignan and Toulose -- rolling green hills, quaint farms, sleepy villages, vineyards, and the Canal du Midi.

We arrived in Toulouse at 9:00 and had an entire day to wander the lovely winding streets, do a little window shopping, and visit some of the important landmarks. Toulouse was a very accessible place to visit. It is a big city, but not overwhelmingly so and the people seemed warm and welcoming.

One of the trademarks of the city is the "rose" colored brick that most of the building are constructed out of, hence the nickname "la ville en rose."

Could he be more French?? Non.

Teenagers hanging out, soaking up some sunlight, during a break from school.

Our lunch spot of choice was the always happening Place St. Georges. The perfect French scene: a tree spotted square, cafes, people out enjoying each others' company with a glass of wine or coffee, and a few pigeons.

The church of "Les Jacobins." Les Jacobins is an immense 13th century gothic cathedral in the center of Toulouse. Without any pews to ground it, the first thing you notice is the incredible height of the place. The eye is immediately drawn up along the huge pillars and stained glass windows to the vaulted ceiling.

They even placed a mirror around one of the pillars at the end so everyone can fully admire the ceiling. Even the French pre-teens thought it was tres cool!

We did lots of wandering and ended up in the Jardins des Plantes where we made some great friends.

The sight of the old mill.

After a long day of touring, we were ready to board our train back to Lezignan. The train stations have huge lighted signs with the departure times and "voie" that the trains will be leaving from. People all gather around, looking up at the sign and waiting for their "voie" number to show up. When the number finally goes up it's a sudden mad dash to the trains like there is only one good seat and everyone is trying to get it. We have yet to figure out the reasoning for this, especially when there are assigned seats...

Home Away From Home

2009-11-11T21:05:00.008+01:00

The more time that passes here in Ventenac, the more we are actually starting to feel at home. The rhythm of each day has become routine and the landscape familiar. So, maybe it’s only natural that every once in a while, we start fantasizing about the possibility of actually making this place our home.

We got to fantasizing during a walk the other day...

We arrived in the lovely little village of Canet.

It is a peaceful little French town like a thousand other little French towns: narrow streets, pretty old church, a tabac, a few men in the lone bar, and an old women who carefully matches her shoes to her turquoise blazer...

And then:

We found it! Our new home! It's hard to capture the full effect on camera, but it is a thing of beauty. Big lawn, lots of space, garage/barn in the back, cute shuttered windows.

Now, friends and family, don’t get too worried. We’re not really planning on abandoning all of you at this point. The place we found would be a second home. We'll happily split our time between France and the United States. And, it is plenty big, so everyone is welcome to come visit or stay. (If any of you would be interested in making a little investment, we’d be ever so grateful.)

We actually emailed the real-estate agent, just for fun, to see what kind of deal he'd give us. The price isn't too bad! We plan on writing back and getting a tour next week.

Don't we just seem at home here?

"Chateau Ventenac Here!"

2009-11-10T17:54:00.007+01:00

Here is a little glimpse into our lives at our current humble abode...the appropriately named "Chateau Ventenac." We are help-xing here with Julia Bristow, a delightful English woman who runs courses here and rents the place out to families for holidays.

The chateau is an impressive and substantial piece of architecture. From a distance, it is the most distinctive building in Ventenac, extending from the grey tower on the left to the white section on the right.

Our work here has been getting the place ready to close down for the winter months when Julia returns to England. Lots of stripping paint, filling cracks, retouching the walls, organizing rooms and the like. Such a big house is a constant work in progress -- there is always more to be done.

Here is Nina, our new friend from down under, mopping the front stairs.

The Chateau is actually divided into three properties. Julia's section is in the middle. The tower belongs to a French doctor and the right hand side belongs to another French family.

The king of the Chateau is unquestionably this guy -- Teg (short for Tegwyn, meaning "handsome" in Welsh). He pretty much runs the place.

And ooooh the ducks. Their constant quack quack quacking was almost endearing at first. Now it is getting annoying. And have you EVER seen such an ugly duck as this guy on the right? We have not. Our new fav activity is feeding the ducks, and on this lovely afternoon we decided to throw ugly the extra large piece that apparently doesn't quite fit in his mouth. Too bad.

During our free time, we are still loving our walks along the Canal du Midi. It never gets old. The London Planetrees (thanks Kathryn!) have turned from green to yellow and started dropping their leaves. Many of the vineyards are now a stunning shade of red.

We'll leave you with this little tidbit: In France, if you don't make eye contact with the person you are toasting, you get SEVEN years of bad sex. We are being very careful. So next time you find yourself in France with hopes of a lil' som'n som'n, take note! A votre sante!

The Essentials: Sun & Food

2009-11-09T17:19:00.010+01:00

We've gone back to basics here in Ventenac.

One of the greatest pleasures of this trip has been the slow pace of life -- it has allowed us to truly appreciate each little moment like this one...the sun rising over the canal.

Another basic pleasure...BREAD! We've been testing out a new recipe and are closer to perfection than ever!

Good crust: an essential.

We've been having some extreme weather the past few days making for intense winds, mysterious mist, and dramatic cloud formations.

Chilly fall weather calls for soul-warming comfort food. Squash stuffed with spinach, mushrooms, quinoa, creme fraiche and topped with goat cheese...pas mal, pas mal du tout!

A match made in heaven: Julia Child's ratatouille and creamy dreamy mashed potatoes.

Superstitious

2009-11-05T20:56:00.006+01:00

Meal times are where a lot of the magic happened at David and Sundara's. This particular dinner will go down in the hall of fame.

The food was gourmet. A perfect tomato, avocado, red onion salad; roasted pork; leek and mushroom compote; and mashed potatoes.

Props to Chef Tim and his expert potato mashing skillz!

It was all washed down with red wine and topped off with what has become a Hannah and Erika trademark: flourless chocolate cake. yum

The highlight of the evening was a spontaneous wine-tasting. Sundara was determined to prove to David that in France, there is no excuse for paying more than five euros for a bottle of wine while David is of the opinion that pricey wines are almost by default, higher quality.

Sundara picked out three wines -- a 2 euro bottle, a 3 euro bottle, and a 10 euro bottle. She poured them into identical glasses and set them at each of our place settings.

We smelled, swirled, gargled, and downed the options and then ranked them by order of quality.

While David has nearly perfected the art of being an expert, he actually fell short this time. He ranked the 10 euro bottle of wine at the bottom of the pack -- much to Sundara's delight.

Oh, husbands...

And of course no night is complete without a little booty shaking to Stevie Wonder. "very superstitious, writing's on the wall..."

Big Bike Adventure #2-Narbonne

2009-11-04T21:05:00.011+01:00

Narbonne is small city 17km south-east of Ventenac. We hit the road on our bikes,
eager to discover and uncover whatever treasures the place had to offer.

Our first stop in any new place is usually the market. It tends to be a good way of forming a first impression-- if the food is good, that usually bodes well for us. Narbonne has a great one.

Les Halles is an old indoor market fully stocked with all the French essentials --
cheese, sausage, fruits, vegetables, bread, pastries, and wine.
It also featured several stalls that serve drinks and prepared food.

One of Narbonne's main attractions is this remnant of Roman road. Narbonne was established by the Romans and was an important crossroads between Spain and Italy.
It was built upon the Via Domitia -- the first road through Gaul.
Narbonne remained an important and thriving urban center during Rome's heyday.

Today, Narbonne is a small but picturesque city with
colorful buildings flanking the narrow, winding roads.

Another main attraction in Narbonne was its majestic Cathedral and the adjacent mairie. Though the gothic cathedral was never completed,
it is an imposing and dramatic piece of architecture.

The oldest part of mairie was built as the lodgings for the
archbishop of Narbonne who found the cathedral construction too noisy.
It was built up successively and today is a hodge-podge of various styles of architecture.

Here is a little taste of Halloween in France. We were feeling a little nostalgic and
were pleasantly surprised to see that it has actually caught on pretty well.
Children dressed up and went around to the different businesses in Narbonne collecting candy.
The pumpkin was on display at the local Wednesday market in Lezignan.

We were also treated to a great spectacle --
a lively wedding coming out of the mairie in the main square. Quite a party!

Good Morning Fog

2009-11-03T07:50:00.009+01:00

The fog is setting in around Ventenac. We have been waking up to a thick layer of fog surrounding the house the past few mornings. The view from our bedroom window stretches just barely far enough to see a hint of the canal and maybe a duck or two,
and then it's a white-out beyond that.

Thankfully around 10:30AM the fog clears up and we have
our beautiful days of sunlight and warmth back.

It is nearly 8AM, but Ventenac- a town of 500- looks more like a ghost town this morning.

The trees in the distance are dancing. This view encompasses a slice of the
property(to the left) of the second place we will be staying in Ventenac.
It is a huge chateau that is split between 3 different families.

The road to the west.

Off to the south, the usually vibrant yellow London Planetrees disappear in the distance.
These trees line both sides of our beloved canal and many of the major roads-
making for beautiful bike trips and car rides.

National burning day in Ventenac... This woman seems to have stepped off her barge, found a good place where she wouldn't be bothered and proceeded to burn her piles of rubbish. The smoke was drifting over the adjacent street, up the hill and into town,

where it mixed with the fog and went unnoticed.

While the inhabitants of Ventenac are apparently very stern with the rule to leash your dogs,
most of the dog-walkers we see along the canal let their dogs run free.

Standing on the path of the canal, you have the dirty, but calm waters of the canal on one side and endless stretches of vineyards to the south. Looking through the leaves of
London Planetrees the outline of land beyond is barely distinguishable.

The colors here do not compare to a good Midwestern fall,
but we do have our share of yellows and reds if you're looking out for it.

A road leading out to the north of town, towards more vineyards and small towns.
The church bells just rang 9AM. Time to go have breakfast.

Qu-est Que C'est Que Ca?

2009-11-01T12:42:00.006+01:00

Well, we learn something new every day. We were lucky enough to witness the end of a crazy wedding on our lovely afternoon in Narbonne. And apparently people in the South of France have never seen the likes of a limousine...

Yes, Erika is guilty of following the crowd on this one- but only to make sure this wasn't some special limo that you can't find anywhere but the South of France.

Whoa, cool, what's inside?

Hey, darlin', this is pretty nifty eh?

Oooo, I wish I could have a ride in this thing!

Hmmmm, now let's see......

Oh man! Oh man!

Well, that was alright I guess.

My turn!

Oh wow, can you believe?

Around Town

2009-11-01T12:00:00.008+01:00

While Ventenac is a tiny village, it makes up in charm what it lacks in population.
The red tiled roofs, so common here in the south, lend an unassuming
beauty to the views out our windows here at Lafontenille.

Every day, the canal brings us so much joy we just can't contain ourselves.
Passers-by might think we look a little strange,
but we just can't understand why everyone ELSE isn't as excited as we are.

About an hour's walk east of Ventenac is the little village of Le Somail. The town used to be used as an overnight stop for visitors coming from the Mediterranean traveling along the Canal on their way to Toulouse. Thomas Jefferson even made his way there for a brief stay.
I wonder if he stopped and had some of the scrumptious ice cream like we did.

Today, Le Somail is a very quiet, peaceful little place with a few canal-side cafes, B&Bs, an old church, boat rentals, and a fantastic used bookstore.

"Le Trouve Tout du Livre" bookstore was an unexpected little gem.
It has a collection of 80,000 books from the French classics to poetry to history to children's books. Many of the books were hundreds of years old...a bibliophiles dream.

Le Somail is still a popular destination for boaters. It was especially busy because we are in the middle of "la vacance." The French definitely live up to their reputation for taking a lot of time off, and also for taking full advantage of it. All the kids are currently enjoying a two
week break from school -- maybe they work really hard in September????

Here is a view the vineyards and the Pyrenees in the distance from Ventenac.

Ventenac's very own Chateau at dusk. This is actually a "cave cooperative" -- a sort of wine co-op. We have yet to try any of their wine...we'll have to save that for another day.

A toute a l'heure!

A Day in the Life

2009-10-29T19:57:00.005+01:00

A brief glimpse into our life...one day at a time:

Every morning, we all eat breakfast together. The spread includes a fresh fruit salad, yogurt, cereal, homemade bread with jam, and coffee and tea.

After breakfast, if the stock is low, we make another batch of bread. We're still working on our recipe -- to the right are the makings of a recent version. It tastes great but isn't rising like we'd hope...suggestions from bread makers out there?

After breakfast, it's time for work:

We are currently taking on a big project in the kitchen -- stripping, sanding, priming, and painting all the cabinetry.

And yes, it is still perfect weather in the south of France so for a change of scenery, sometimes we take the work onto the patio to soak up the rays while we still can. (Helen, do you like our pants?)

After all that back breaking labor, it's time for lunch! The past few days, it has been warm enough to eat out on the terrace. Nothing like a nice glass of white wine to cleanse the palate from a morning of paint fumes.

After we are done working for the day, we usually head out for a little adventuring. Biking along the Canal du Midi has been particularly spectacular recently. We are always in good company along the canal with boaters, fishermen, and ducks (and the occasional donkey) enjoying the good life along with us.

We usually share kitchen duties in the house, so every few days, we cook dinner. The other night, we wanted to prepare something that would both impress our hosts and be a fun challenge. We looked to Julia Child and settled on Coq au Vin.

Erika fearlessly volunteered to take on the job of dealing with the whole chicken that we found in the fridge. After a quick you-tube butchering tutorial (quite unnecessary, acutally!), she broke down that bird into pieces and we made a delicious meal.

Nights in Ventenac always seem to sneak up on us, but when they arrive, they are absolutely stunning.

Wine of the Night

2009-10-27T22:11:00.004+01:00

Our first wine recommendation is Le Zaparel. We were lucky enough to be able to taste it thanks to a new friend and dinner guest for the evening ("salut!" if you are reading) He brought this beautiful red wine from an organic winery called Domaine Saint Julien in the Minervois. The label states that it is a wine "for your pleasure and well-being" and we whole-heartedly agree -- it was definitely made with love and full of character.

The bottles we had tonight (yes, plural) were from 2001. The wine had a subtle (but not too subtle), full-bodied, slightly cherry flavor.

We don't know if these people are exporting their wine yet but we hope to visit them later in the week to see for ourselves.

Erika says this is the very best red wine she has ever tasted and Hannah isn't sure she can disagree! We have definitely set the bar high for our wine reviews...

Rating: 9 out of 10!

Fromage du Jour

2009-10-27T16:31:00.004+01:00

Bienvenue to our new series of cheese recommendations (soon to be followed by a similar post on wine!).

First up is Petit Saint-Paulin.

This cheese is soft and buttery (but firm enough for slicing into) with a smooth, mild flavor. It is perfect alongside a light wine after a meal. It always has a thin rind -- slightly darker than the cheese itself. Authentically produced St. Paulin has an edible shell but beware of imitator St. Paulins with a plastic, inedible rind...sacre bleu!

Saint-Paulin was originally made by Trappist monks in Brittany. The one we tried comes from a little town called Craon.

Erika and Hannah rate this cheese:

7.25 out of 10!

Minerve M'enerve!

2009-10-25T21:34:00.006+01:00

Saturdays and Sundays are our "days off." Yesterday, we decided to go on a grand adventure to the little village of Minerve, voted one of the twenty prettiest villages in France (l'un des plus belles villages en France"). David warned us that the trip to Minerve was a little bit of an uphill struggle..."but only slightly uphill." Sundara just remarked that it was "a wee bonny town." So how could we resist?

The ride to and from Minerve was actually breathtaking. This is the perfect time to be in the Minervois region. Most days, are crystal clear with blue skies and dramatically contrasting greens, reds, and oranges in the landscape.

The ride was definitely an uphill struggle...we were cursing the idea of ever trying to go to Minerve...how much better than Ventenac can it really be???? And then we pedaled around the last hill and saw the little place. Definitely one of the twenty loveliest villages in France!

Minerve is an incredibly old village -- originally inhabited by Cathars -- built into a secluded valley. The dramatic rocky surroundings almost camouflage the village itself because all the buildings are constructed into the rock, out of the rock.

Minerve is also nestled between several "sweet sweet" vineyards. We tried the grapes and they are super bon.

The southern gate. Much of the old ramparts protecting the town still exist, this bit is from the 13th century.

No medieval village is complete without a reconstructed catapult for sieges and the like!

Happy Fall from wine country!

Wasserfahrt!

2009-10-23T22:17:00.009+02:00

Life in Ventenac so far...

We've got it reaaaaaaly good here. We arrived in Ventenac late in the night a few days ago --so it wasn't until the next morning that we really got to see how picturesque this place is. Our hosts, David and Sundara have an amazing (and enormous) home that we feel very lucky to be sharing with them for a few weeks.

This is the view out of our window on the third floor. If you squint, you can see Spain!

We are definitely in the land of vignobles (vineyards) here in Ventenac. We are very close to the Corbieres region and Puy, two big wine producers. We have been lucky enough to sample quite a few of the local creations each night...delish!

Family photo! From left to right, Erika, Helen (another helper from New Zealand who just left today), Hannah, Sundara, and David.

David and Sundara are passionate music-lovers. They have two grand pianos, are both singers, and have an incredible CD collection that we've enjoyed tuning into while we "work" here. When they found out that we both are singers, we were immediately invited to join them for a tune.

Sundara -- master chef of the house. She has endless amounts of energy, vibrance, humor, and enthusiasm -- it's infectious.

Today, we were finally able to take a bike ride along the Canal du Midi.

On our bike-adventure, we came across the little village of Roubia. Where there is a little French village, there is always a boulangerie and where there is a boulangerie, Hannah and Erika are never too far away.

Every breakfast, lunch and dinner, we are treated to delicious, fresh, gourmet meals. And, in typical French fashion, each lunch and dinner ends with a taste of cheese. Here we have a lovely camembert, a roquefort, and a lusciously melty brebis (sheep's milk cheese). Also note the homemade bread -- we are still working on the art, soooooooo we might need to stay here several more months to work out the kinks. We told you we were working hard!

After all the stress of bread baking, sometimes all a girl needs is an escape, a retreat of some sort, maybe a meditation room...good thing Sundara thought of that and placed one right next to our bedroom.

The End of Joan of Arc

2009-10-22T17:55:00.009+02:00

From Paris, we headed north to Rouen -- the capital of Upper Normandy to visit Caroline, an old amie of Erika. It is a medium-sized city with a big university so there are many young people and international students. It is also home of Flaubert and the site where Joan of Arc was burned alive........you go gurl!

Luckily for us, Rouen is also home to the annual Gastronomy Festival of Normandy. It just so happened to be on the very weekend we came to town. We were treated to a wide array of sights, smells and tastes including: delicious caramel, truffles, Camembert, crepes, pastries of all sorts, and local pressed-cider.

We also went to our first French party. At first, we thought it would be very similar to American parties -- they were playing all the same music. But then, we discovered some significant differences...there was a definite shortage of dancing, alcohol, and crepes -- seeing as though it was advertised as a crepe party. We think they could definitely stand to learn a few things from us Amuuurcans.

Here is the tower where Joan of Arc was kept for months before and during her trial. Of course, she was eventually found guilty and burned just down the road. This cross stands in the site of the public burning in the center of town.

This is the main street through Rouen -- lots of shops and restaurants.

A taste of the Gastronomy Festival. These are "pommes d'amour" -- a French take on caramel apples that are common at festivals and carnivals. We saw a whole family of five walking down the street, each one of them eating one of these tasty looking apples of love.

Truffle making (and tasting!). We definitely hit up this spot several times during the day. Note the traditional garb.

This dude is busy cooking up some andouillettes -- stewed in cider with apples, pears, and onions. Perfect warm comfort food for a chilly fall day.

CHRISTOPHER you would have looooooved this.

More traditional garb...and cankles.

Note the traditional wood-accented buildings -- a fixture in cities and villages throughout Normandy.

Cathedral of Rouen, made famous by Monet's series of paintings of it at different times of day. We had pity of this poor petite fille who was dressed like an old woman, whose mom never let her out of arm's reach.

At the Gastronomy Festival, we were also treated to a butter making demo by a local producer. The kids got to participate in the process, each one got to make a little jar of butter. Fun Fact! Because it rained a lot in Normandy last week, this weeks batch of butter is yellow-er than usual. This is because more rain = more herbs = better-fed cows.

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And finally...our endless wait in the salle d'attente of Gare de Lyon in Paris (not to be mistaken with Gare du Nord...ummm...which we might have). Five and a half hours later, we boarded the train to Narbonne in search of a Scottish guy driving a silver mercedes who would be our host for the next two weeks in the south!

Goodbye City of Love

2009-10-21T22:26:00.018+02:00

After two and a half whirlwind weeks in Paris, it is time to say so long! Paris is such a diverse, complicated, and wonderfully busy place. Every day we experienced a new part of the city: we saw the gritty, the elegant, the silly, the far-too-serious, the moody, the jolly, the modern, the ancient, and plenty in between.

We'll miss our daily walks; our bread, cheese, and saucisson picnics on the bridges over the Seine; our steaming bowls of cafe au laits; our local fromagerie off Rue de Javel; and the smell of urine and piles of dog shit on every every street corner...mmmm, maybe not that last one.

Of course, we know there is still much much more to discover. So this is just "goodbye for now" or "a bientot" because we know we'll be back!

These three fellas used to decorate Pont Neuf (the grandest bridge over the Seine) and can now be found in the Musee Carnavalet, a fascinating museum devoted to the history of Paris located in a grand old mansion on the left bank.

Much of the Carnavalet museum was a chronological walk through the centuries, with each room decorated in the style of a different era. These clocks were focal pieces in many of the most elegant rooms. Apparently the Parisians back in the day liked to keep time in high style.

The grand ballroom in the Carnavalet. And yet another clock!

On our very last day in Paris, we visited the Parc de la Villette in the far north east corner of Paris. It is the largest park in the city and the second largest green space, second to the Pere Lachaise cemetery. It was quite an interesting place...definitely a product of the 1980s with lots of what I'm sure was at the time, cutting edge installation art, but which now looks pretty dated.

Here are giant pieces of bike-themed modern art. Profound, no?

We did find a little bamboo forest in the park that was very serene. Apparently I was having a moment of deep reflection about the pieces of giant bike I had just encountered.

Paris' version of Millenium Park's "the bean"!

This shot is very much Paris in a nutshell with the contrast of ancient and modern -- severe and whimsical.

On the stairway of Victor Hugo's apartment in Place des Vosges -- sporting an oh-so-French beret!

Invasion of the nuns! Which way to church!?!?!

A lovely scene in the tunnels of the metro...

Countryside Escape

2009-10-13T21:14:00.010+02:00

We escaped the hustle and bustle of the city today, hopped on a train (the wrong one, but no matter!), and headed south-west to the little town of Rambouillet. I (this is Hannah) have distant Gigoux-relatives living there who my grandmother found a few years ago. We've been to visit them once before, several years ago. Today, they showed us an incredible amount of hospitality, served us a gourmet lunch, and introduced us to many new animal friends.

Jean-Charles met us at the train station and brought us to the farm where Brigitte,
Bernard, Papi (the Grandfather), and Christophe met us for lunch.

The meal included fresh tomatoes (from the garden), potato-zucchini puree, pork (from the farm), cider/beer (home-brewed, apples from the garden), bread (made with wheat from the field Bernard and Christophe were working in that morning),
cheese, and a chocolate pear tart for desert.

After the meal, we got a tour of the farm.

One of the farm cats recently gave birth to a litter of the cutest
petits chattons (kittens) in the world. Unfortunately, these lil guys were already
claimed or we might have been forced to take them with us...

Brigitte, moi, et un little lamb.

Enjoying the pasture...and a break from the barking of the
German Shepard who was chained up not too far away.

Inside the barn...this is the machine that dispenses all the finished wheat into
trucks to be taken into town and made into awesome French bread.

Here is the German Shepard chilling with the rabbits-neither one was at all phased by the other.

Brigitte in her garden picking zucchini for us to take home.
We just finished eating them up for dinner...tres delicieux! Merci, Brigitte!!

In front of the quince tree in the garden. She also loaded us up with a sack of quinces to make jam. We aren't sure just how to do it yet, but we will definitely find out. Brigitte is holding the dahlias she picked from her garden for us to take home. I still don't quite understand how there are such gorgeous flowers still in bloom in October, but I'm glad!

A shot of the house (to the left) and the old barn (to the right). (For all the Taylor-White-Steens reading, the building to the right is where we had our epic feast.)

Another day, another adventure!

A demain!