Spring 2024 Wales to Versailles

Posted on June 6, 2024June 6, 2024 Posted in American Expat, Beauxvillage, Dordogne, Expatriation, France, French, Jardin, Lotetgaronne, maison de campagne, The French Life, Travel, Voyage en FranceTagged #aqueduct, #barge, #england, #photography, #shaftesbury, #versailles, #wales, europe, France, paris, TravelLeave a comment

It is a spring morning in Southwest France. The moon rises in the west, in a half-lidded sleep disturbed by the awakenings of dawn, the sun then simultaneously awakes in the east as if to say “it is my turn now, and the birds concur.”

This was my first birthday in France; I realized my last two birthdays were spent in Hawaii and Venice. As that sentiment rolled around my consciousness I feared I was becoming a snob. Yet, fifty years ago I was a country bumpkin oblivious to either one of those venues and my exposure to French culture came in the form of words like “Bon Marche” and a concoction called “french dressing” that was best reserved for “french fries.”

After struggling with these conflicting perspectives, I was soon abandoned to the day and the few chores I needed to accomplish before heading out for my birthday lunch.

As it turned out it was actually a surprise lunch as I was greeted by our neighbors and smattering of American friends we had collected over the last year. I am really starting to feel more at home, especially now that we have gotten our Carte de Sejours (residency cards). Though I do wonder if the French have an installation on Mars; so much of the paperwork is copious – bordering on the obscene and many of their systems are still manual instead of online – it really does make you wonder. Now that we have completed our paperwork we can actually have a celebratory bonfire to get rid of the backup materials that certainly came in handy but are taking up way to much space.

Otherwise we have been busy in the garden, coping with (and dodging) the torrential rains that per everyone we talk to, are quite unprecedented, and those few days of sunshine and perfect temperatures only makes one yearn for more of the same.

We had much to do before heading for the UK, as we are planning to spend time with Bob’s sister and brother-in-law in Malvern, and then vacation on a barge, boating our way through the canals of Northern Wales for four days.

We managed to get the potager planted and some of our privet hedges in before taking off as it would soon be too dry for planting. With our new 3200 liter underground water tank we can set the sprinkler on a timer and the tank replenishes itself when it rains so we really aren’t wasting any water while we are away.

The drive from Doudrac to Rouen was a grueling 10 hours as we had some unexpected diversions; we were rightly exhausted once we arrived at the hotel. The next day we had the adventure of taking our car on the “LeShuttle” through the channel tunnel to England. It is quite a feat of engineering!

When we disembarked we were driving on the left side of the road which as it turned out, Bob navigated rather nicely. His British muscle memory kicked in though I still felt dyslexic as being on the opposite side is very unnatural for me. We got to Malvern late in the afternoon; it was interesting being back in an English-speaking country though I had to catch myself so I wasn’t expressing French greetings!

After getting settled in at Bruce and Kathryn’s place, we headed to Boots that is like an American CVS pharmacy where we can get over-the-counter meds that aren’t easily accessible in France, such as saline eye drops in a bottle (the French have these little vials they use that is really an eye wash), Deet insect spray – simple things like that. Basically it was easier purchasing these items instead of performing pantomimes at the French pharmacy.

We then had a great evening at the Rotary where Bruce is president and enjoyed a tasty meal on a stellar golf course; this gave us a chance to dress up for a change.

We had nice weather in Malvern and besides going for walks, we also rearranged our luggage for the four day barge cruise on the canals in Wales. It’s only a two hour drive from Malvern, and after long days in the car from France to the UK it was a welcome relief.

Wales is one of the wettest spots in England and as you drive through the countryside, the hills are of a lush green, partitioned by hedgerows, with the sheep and the Tudor-style homes; you do realize why this area is so special. England is more dense than France, due to the physics of size but the English oaks and chestnuts seem more grand, I think because of their “wingspan.” Many sit apart from their brethren, dominating the fields with their massive limbs, occasionally accompanied by willows and birches.

One can argue that the Dordogne is equally lush, though I think the Perigordian stone, that bleached stone that you see on the signature structures in the south of France, has a bit of a Mediterranean flair. And the French farmlands are vast by comparison, with dryer and warmer summers. It’s the summer thunderstorms that keep the area green – though violent they certainly help to maintain a balance to the farming community.

As we drove through canopies of trees, it felt more like a primordial jungle that had been fashioned by a hungry dinosaur instead of modern-day commerce.

We arrived at the Blackwater Meadow Marina, the beginning of our trek along the Llangollen Canal. We unpacked our cars sans the luggage bags (like the RV there is only so much space) and set off down the canal. The weather was lovely, warm and in the 60’s, and we hoped it would hold for the majority of the trip.

As we embarked we were greeted by some swans and ducks and we kept seeing the goslings – they were so darling! We otherwise floated quietly through the farmlands.

Bob and Bruce managed the till and we went up the river for a few hours and stopped as it was already getting late; we moored up for the night in a beautiful location overlooking rolling meadows and a dairy farm.

We were able to get out and stretch our legs along the towpath; back in the day the barges were towed by horses so these are well-tread paths along the entire length of the canals.

We settled in for a nice cottage pie and awoke the next morning to several cows staring at us!

After breakfast we headed out and were greeted by two locks that took about ten minutes to fill and are manually opened and closed.

We spent a relaxing few hours moored off in a wooded area for our tea which consisted of scones, jam and…clotted cream – one of my favorite British delicacies. After that indulgence I took off for a nice trek along the towpath; the weather was perfect, it was not crowded and I was able to do some “tree-bathing.” Soon I stumbled up on the England/Wales border with an English translation of Welsh on the signs. Then came the tunnel where the barges pass through on their way to and from the famous Pontcysylite Aqueduct.

I greeted our barge on my trek back and we made our way to the tunnel that turned out to be a bit of an adventure as there is no system such as a green light telling you when you can go, and we wound up having another barge reverse back out of the tunnel as we made our way through. It takes about ten minutes and there are apparently bats🦇

Bruce ran the length of the tunnel with his cell phone to navigate our passage😉

We soon passed over the Chirk Acqueduct and then across the Pontcysylite Aqueduct that is a World Heritage Site and an astounding feat of engineering. It can also be dangerous as the entry (gap) to the boats don’t provide any protection from falling off into the meadow far below – eeek!

We decided to moor up in nearby Trevor. As it was a beautiful day, Kathryn and I went for a hike under the aqueduct; it’s a very manageable trek along the river where you can sit and take in the woods and the spectacular arches of the aqueduct.

We decided to spend the night in this area and as we sat down for dinner, alas, the rain came.

We were socked in for the night and then into the following day. We decided to make a slow and steady journey back and as it was raining pretty hard at times so we were limited in our adventure options. It turned out to be a bit miserable for the guys as they had to remain outside to steer the barge.

By mid-afternoon the rain let up a bit and we moored up at the Lion’s Quay, an upscale resort and made reservations for a proper sit-down dinner. I went for a walk up to the golf course and experienced a sort of Watership Down as there were rabbits popping out of the hedgerows…everywhere! I got a decent walk in and then we had coffee at the resort then soon we were off to drinks and a nice dinner.

As we were near a busy street we boated downstream a bit more to a quiet area so we could have a peaceful night’s sleep.

Our adventure through the canals of Wales

The next day we headed at a slow pace back to the Marina, so far the weather was holding up. We disembarked and returned to Malvern and were back by early evening. All in all it was a very relaxing time and we got some much needed rest that has been seemingly impossible when we are at home.

We spent a few days at Bruce and Kathryn’s, including hikes through the Malvern Hills which was spectacular.

Hiking through the Malvern Hills

We then headed to Basingstoke and onto the Winchester to visit more of the family before landing in Dorset on the last leg of our trip in England.

Sadly we learned we lost Bob’s favorite Aunt Brenda Montgomery, a powerhouse in the Canadian medical community; we thankfully had a chance to visit on our RV trip in Nova Scotia. ❤️‍🩹

On our way back to France we visited Bob’s Uncle and then overnighted in Dorset at the Coppelridge – an ode to a place we stayed when we first met 30 years ago.

30 years on at the Coppelridge – we had more hair back then!

We stopped in for lunch with the incomparable and renowned British Explorer Colonel John Blashford-Snell and his lovely wife Judith whom we had traveled with to Guyana and Nepal.

https://www.johnblashfordsnell.org.uk

This break also included a stroll through the quintessential charm of Shaftesbury, known for its meandering streets, thatched-roof cottages and lovely views of Dorset.

The famous Gold Hill in Shaftesbury

After some interminable stop and go traffic through south London, we finally made our way to the channel tunnel where we experienced further delays. At this point we were looking forward to getting home but we had one last stop:

The Palace of Versailles.

The massive scale with the accompanying level of artistry is nothing short of astonishing. The landscape and architecture is, as is always the way with the French, the celebration of the art form; meticulously crafted and restored everywhere you look. The grounds, canals and waterworks go on forever; even after a one hour bike ride and 23k steps 😫you still can’t take it all in. While you can’t call it “restrained” by any means, it differs in other palaces such as Lindorf in Germany which borders on the grotesque with all of its overbearing embellishments.

And the queen’s hamlet (a bit like a hobbit village but inspired by the colombage architecture of Normandy), is just another example of lavish spending by the royals of the day so you can imagine why the hungry and weary decided to revolt and take Mademoiselle’s head.

Versailles was created as an idea – a fantastical playground cordoned off from reality. It just kept growing over the centuries until it became the phenomenal sprawl that it is today.

When the baroque music plays throughout the garden you can easily envisage the royals and entourage in all of their finery.

What I liked the most:

Overlooking the canals and gardens, it creates a soothing balm to wander around and it wasn’t too terribly crowded.

The Hall of Mirrors

The Queen’s Hamlet

Breezeways with pink marble and black and white tile of the Grand Trianon. We got lost wandering through the gardens and stumbled up on an incredible foundation, recently restored and not on any map or brochure. It’s quite an astounding thing!

Lastly, the signature French architecture with the dark gray and gold embellishments (just the best).

The weather gods were kind to us as well. We had a spit of rain during our bike ride, but the skies cleared a bit and we had good weather whilst strolling through the Grand Trianon. When we got back to the canal (Petite Venice) we scored a seat at the restaurant just as the thunder cracked and shortly after we were seated the skies let loose in monsoonal splendor. We watched as several other tourists came hurtling in for lunch – some of them pretty dang wet.

By the time we finished eating, the skies had cleared and we made the way to the main palace for our 4:30 time slot.

Note – the Chinese tourists are back in full bore; due to their restrictions even post-Covid we were spared the swarms during our RV trip. We were especially thankful as the national parks were crowded even without too many foreign tourists. Sadly, overcrowding at any popular tourist destinations is becoming a real issue everywhere.

Trekking through Versailles

We got home late the next day to an overgrown garden that would keep us busy for quite a while – though we were glad to be back in our La Maison.

We are looking forward to summer and are excited that the Tour de France is coming through our area – we plan to watch the tour pass through on July 11🥰

Now for a French moment:

While we were in the UK, Bob’s sister gave us a lovely book full of whimsical illustrations by an Englishmen who lives in the Southwest France. What a delight to read such relatable expressions!

Humor during the pandemic😆

March 2024 Our Dream Maison a Year Later

Posted on March 1, 2024 Posted in American Expat, Beauxvillage, Dordogne, Expatriation, France, French, Jardin, Lotetgaronne, Maison, maison de campagne, Photography, The French Life, Voyage en FranceTagged #france, #francophile, #maison, #photography, #spring, europe, France, paris, Photography, TravelLeave a comment

Was it really a year ago that we collected the keys and took possession of a decade-old dream of moving to France? Sure, the expectation was to be excited beyond belief, yet we found that our elation had been replaced with relief, excitement with anticipation; our foray into the French delivery system (as in goods), as I would soon learn, begged the same treatment as an entire chapter out of a Peter Mayle novel. It’s difficult to invoke the anticipated glassy-eyed euphoria since we had nothing to sleep on 😁 and soon learned our bed had gone MIA, though we did have our washer, dryer, freezer and TV delivered as promised, so were far better than anyone on the Gaza Strip. And…having an established address cures so many of the French administration requirements for “proof of residency,” as we now have utility bills to prove we are in fact residents. So there👈

We did manage to get our bed, a manic adventure that warranted more than a good night’s sleep. While we were living the spare life, we had plenty to do before our container arrived, including curating furniture to replace what we had divested back in Oregon. We ventured to brocantes and online shops to find pieces that would fit the theme of our new digs. I also managed to get the paint color matched up, again much to my relief, but then to my dismay discovered the lack of coverage (as in watery thin) and ridiculous price for 3 liters of paint could only be made up by wine, cheese and copious amounts of baguettes. Sure, I could find some cheap and cheerful color knock-offs, but they wouldn’t match the color that the majority of the interior was painted in. And it was a nice warm cream color that enhanced the amber and gold light that blessed our mornings and evenings that make Southwest France so appealing. You have to make concessions every once in a while.

Master bedroom before and after

Dining room before and after

Terrace before and after

Even though it’s been a year we are still finding a home for some of items, especially our artwork.

Bob’s birthday lands in January and we opted to go to the lovely L’Atelier, that was once a Michelin star restaurant, and still provides the same level of service and outstanding food presentation; in fact they were ranked #1 by National Geographic for food lovers exploring the culinary delights of France. This, mind you, is a few minutes from our house in the charming bastide of Issigeac. Being that it was chilly, and a Sunday, I decided it was best to make reservations as the French tend to flutter into the local restaurants after Sunday church services and al fresco was not on the menu. We scored a lovely table next to the cavernous dining room fireplace. And as predicted, we were soon surrounded by what appeared to be some rather well-off Brits and French floating in for a long “repas” or meal.

L’ Atelier on a summer day

Much to my surprise they had the black squid-ink pasta; I had tried to obtain this delicacy in Venice, but it wasn’t on the menu of the restaurant that was recommended to us. The meal was your standard two hour French affair with the added bonus of the artistic flair and mouth-watering delights that the French are famous for. In America, in a small town of this nature I would be lucky to find a Denny’s! We have visited our fair share of “greasy spoons”, though tragically I do miss the Denny’s grand slam breakfast with the hash browns and American bacon. We have to settle for the British variety of bacon which isn’t exactly the same, but not all is lost as we have been able to obtain Bisquick for an occasional pancake feast.

After enduring the torrential rains of last fall, January saw a dip in temperatures, but unlike our friends in Portland, Oregon who had sub-freezing temperatures, with trees collapsing on their homes and their pipes bursting, we had our heat pumps and wood stove to keep us cozy.

We welcomed a thick layer of frost that enveloped the surrounding fields like a dusting of snow, making for a dreamy albeit bracing experience upon exiting the house. When the sun burst through, it disrupted the vision causing temporary blindness, with its threat of rainbows and warmth, it otherwise was a tease and never really warmed up for the entire day. This only lasted for about a week and then we went to the other extreme with temperatures cresting 60 degrees; confusing the bees – though the butterflies apparently couldn’t be bothered; I don’t know that bees are dumber than butterflies but they were having some challenges to say the least.

The weather finally leveled out to more normal temperatures for February, thankfully without the flooding we had in the fall. Everyone says spring has come a month early; the rosemary is blooming giving the bees something to feast on and the mock cherry trees are even budding, providing some healthy competition to the daffodils.

We are now falling into a bit of routine with our weekly trips to the Saturday Market in Villereal. Villereal is small (a whopping 1200 residents) but is a bustling community that supports the surrounding population and is rather crowded during the tourist season. We aren’t near any really large cities, both Bergerac and Villeneuve-sur-lot are 22 – 27,000 inhabitants respectively, and are only a half hour away through the valley, interrupted only by the occasional commune or bastide. They have everything we need including most of the French big box chains and charming medieval city centers where you can grab a cuppa and watch the world go by. We are over two hours from Bordeaux and further southeast lies Toulouse. Toulouse is one of the largest cities in France and is another couple of hours away; it’s not quite on the scale as Seattle but it sure has the population density feel to it. It has a good airport and we tend towards flying out of there so we aren’t stuck with the Ryan air cheap-seats out of Bergerac which is fine if you’re going to Paris but not anyplace much further. They both have Ikea and just about everything you could possibly need including better options for Asian faire.

Suffice it to say we are a respectable distance from any major centers and Villereal, with our doctors, nail and hair salons only ten minutes down the road. Heck I would drive that far in Portland for many of my appointments anyway! Here we glide through the backroads of countryside, vineyards, orchards, and rustic farms to our appointments. There’s also a smattering of horse stables nearby and we have on occasion have had to slow down to let riders and trotters (with carriages) pass. It takes a bit getting used to and adds to the local charm.

Our upgrades on the house continue – though not the major renovations like we did in 2023; we had guttering installed on the south side of the house to mitigate the problems with flooding in the cellar (not to be confused with some magical wine cave as it houses the boiler, washer and freezer), we will be able to capture more water and also pump the overflow away from the house into the nearby field. The rest of the house had guttering except for this side for some reason.

I completed the painting and the floor treatment in the upstairs hallway; my aging body is glad this is now completed and in recovery. The hallway had been bit of a train wreck for a while with unpacked boxes and “stuff” that was placed there to be attended to “another day.” It appeared the floors hadn’t been touched in decades and some stain and wax gave them a lovely rustic patina. We now have a gallery wall to include some of my photography and art collections and books. I love using picture ledges as they give you more freedom on appointing art without copious amounts of wall-banging. These walls are thankfully drywall, but much of the house is stone so one must use discretion.

Upstairs hallway updates

The wall leading to the office is what I have deemed a “memory wall” (in progress) so we can reflect upon our loved-ones, living and passed on, as go about dealing with the copious amounts of paperwork required to maintain our existence in France.

In the meantime, Bob has been turning over the garden plot with manure and compost so we can get some planting done this year. Our water tank is in the ground and operational; we are certainly not lacking water right now with unprecedented rain systems hitting us, but we could wind up with a summer drought at which time we’ll be thankful for the water buts and tanks. We have an additional tank (but) installed on the northwest side of the house to water the “acid garden” which will include the blueberries that we will be planting in the next month. Otherwise, we are still navigating the mud-scape but will be planting grass soon and look forward to the pool area being landscaped later this year.

We are also invited to a feast sponsored by the commune (Doudrac) where we were introduced as new residents – we are the only Americans in this vicinity so are a bit of a novelty; it seems everywhere we go when they find out we’re Americans they seem so pleased; I took my ankle boots to the cordonnier (shoe repair shop) in Eymet which is a British enclave not too far from us – when he looked at my boots he said they were very good and I mentioned they are American and that I’m American – he thought it was the coolest thing! I can only assume it’s due to the popularity of American items in France and also our efforts during the war. We are always very welcomed pretty much everywhere we go. We are now able to hold down some albeit stilted conversations in French when we visit the market or the pharmacy which is rather exciting.

We are looking forward to spring and getting our vegetable plot going, known in France as a potager. Bob is also designing a flower garden that will include gladiolus, dhalias and an array of wild flowers.

In May are planning a trip to the UK, specifically Wales, to enjoy a barge trip through the Welsh countryside and catching up with relatives. More to come on our spring exploits!

…Now for a French moment:

French farmers block the streets of Paris in protest of too many restrictions and too many exports of foreign produce. This mayhem extended all the way to our area including spewing manure on McDonalds, supermarket chains and government buildings 💩

September 2023 – Our First Summer in France

Posted on September 21, 2023September 21, 2023 Posted in American Expat, Beauxvillage, Dordogne, Expatriation, France, France, French, Jardin, Lotetgaronne, Maison, maison de campagne, The French Life, Travel, Voyage en FranceLeave a comment

Avoir à l’été

Where did the summer go? We celebrated the 4th of July on the 8th😂. Granted it seems like eons ago but it is part of summer yes? It was hot but we still had a good turn out. Some of the food was a bit of a novelty to some of our non-American friends but we had fun all the same.

4th (8th) of July Celebration

We kept hearing the stories of the horrific heat waves last year – the temperatures nearing 110 degrees Fahrenheit for weeks. This year, while we have had some hot periods in the 90’s, we experienced a contradiction of cool weather during July, literally digging out our fleeces and being relegated to indoor projects as we navigated several days of passing showers.

But never fear, we also had the Tour de France that we were able to watch live on Peacock!!! In the U.S. we would have had to record it and watch it in the evenings.

The cool weather soon broke and we were blessed with glorious days in the 70’s – sometimes breaching the 80’s that made for some pleasant bike rides through the countryside. We ventured one day, albeit windy, to Issigeac (about 20km from our house and yet another “beaux village.”) We wound up lunching near the medieval church, leaving our bikes in the shade and security of its ancient entrance – they seemed quite content there actually.

Bob’s brother and sister-in-law came for a short visit on their way to meet up with their kids just outside of Paris. We spent a nice day catching up and thankfully the weather was sunny and pleasant; I had been worried it might be too hot and we didn’t have the air conditioning installed yet; those projects were moved to September due to supply chain issues (no surprise there really), so we are praying that we didn’t get hit with too much extreme heat between now and then. We have also been on the hunt for landscaping help with the pool area as it is reminiscent of Death Valley with the clay starting to crack from the summer heat. At least the pool surround is graveled and we typically do our laps in the late afternoon heat; we haven’t yet figured out the “lounging” bit but suspect we’ll get there at some point.

Now that he have entered the dog days of summer, the sunflowers have begun to hang their heads as if in a state of despair, their beautiful petals shriveled beyond repair. I didn’t record this event as it was too much to bear.

Many of the shops close down for most of August – some with door signage indicating their return sometime in September. This doesn’t apply to the heavily touristed spots that brace themselves for the onslaught of vacationers from the north; the French, Dutch and English swarm this area with their campers, tents (yes – lots of camp sites – many hosted by chateaus) and of course vacation rentals.

We ventured to a few brocantes, at this juncture to get some ideas of what we can eventually collect for the garden as they have lovely old urns and vases on display.

The Brocante in Monflanquin #beauxvillage

The summer festivals are now in full swing and we have been either hosting dinners or being invited to an evening soirée here and there. We have been “collecting” the occasional American(s) we meet by chance or through our network. Interestingly, there is a prevailing theme of “isolation” when engaging them. Granted, there are plenty of British in the area, but they tend to self-segregate so it’s not the same bonding experience as being with a fellow American, as what one of my friends said “especially west coast Americans!” We also gravitate towards the familiar as a form of comfort.

One evening we attended a Spanish-themed festival hosted by our local commune of Doudrac. The commune is a pleasant walk from our house and we were also meeting some of our English-speaking neighbors there and we naturally segregated to our own English-speaking table. This event was complete with huge plates of paella, bread (of course), sangria and bottles of wine. There was a stage set with a band so we were tucked in for an interesting experience, surrounded by our French neighbors who must have come for miles – I think there were around 100 people attending the festival – the essence of the local farming community. It was a gorgeous night and the constellations were on full display.

The band began to strike up their tunes, they played some English ballads, but most were in French and then they switched to some hybrid-Franco American-country western tunes at which time the dance area became flooded with line dancers! Well this really got the party going, and the two-man band started to get pretty loud, but just as they were entering the peak of one of their songs, the power went out and we all sat in absolute darkness, until the phones started illuminating the picnic tables and the conversations became animated. Luckily the power came back on at which time the lead singer decided to take the sound up a few notches, his opening gambit was so loud we almost fell over in our seats. I even saw people at the neighboring tables jump at his unexpected tsunami-level voice. Unfortunately, a few of us got such a case of the giggles we had tears streaming down our faces and were hoping we weren’t embarrassing ourselves.

All in all it was a lovely evening and we walked home around midnight in the absolute darkness of the countryside, the band fading as we paused and marveled at the starry sky, then crashed for the evening.

Now that some interesting movies have come out, we decided it was time to experience a French cinema; we have gone to the theater twice now, as they host screenings in their original English format with French subtitles (VOST = version original with subtitles). This works out great for us and we caught the new Indiana Jones movie as well as Oppenheimer. As far as the concession stands go, the popcorn here isn’t buttered but still tastes fine with just salt, and they carry many of the American chocolate bars, licorice etc. if you are in the mood for a bit of nostalgia.

One of my new American friends invited me to an outdoor ballet. It was a Spanish-them production staged by one of France’s premier choreographers, set at the stunning Chateau de Biron. Overlooking that valley, as so many here are, this stately structure houses art and performances throughout much of the year. The open air theater is especially lovely as you are graced by red sunsets that sweep across the valley that gradually fades into a starry sky, with only the dim lights of the area communes reminding us that it’s not altogether primitive despite your surroundings suggesting such.

As the stars emerged, the dancers swayed to Ravel’s Bolero, crowned by the Big Dipper that dominated the night sky. It was surprisingly cold and windy, eventually requiring three layers! This was apparently due to the elevation and trajectory of the weather inherent to the chateau…it was reminiscent of being on the Oregon coast in the middle of summer. We endured the cold, refraining from pronouncing too many expletives and in wonderment of how the women wearing open-toed shoes were faring. All in all it was a lovely experience and only a fifteen minute drive from our house so we are eager to attend more events.

Chateau de Biron (note not my image – I don’t own a drone)

As the heat of August began to reign over the region we were once again slammed with some pretty spectacular thunderstorms, mostly in the middle of the night, unfortunately leaving us somewhat sleep deprived; one storm cut the power and I got another trial-by-fire experience getting our electricity back up; turns out only a few houses in the area were affected and fortunately the process turned out to be pretty simple…after I finished torturing the polite operator with my Franglish she transferred me to someone who had suitable enough English and could help me reboot our “Linky” system. I am now triumphant in the knowledge I can get our systems back online averting an impending disaster like soupy ice cream.

During the August weather chaos the skies cleared up enough for us to witness the Perseid Meteor shower; we emerged at 2:00 a.m. and made our way to the poolside where we had the best view from our loungers. While we sat in awe of the Milky Way watching the meteors streak by, we heard some rather aggressive rustling in the nearby hedge. Bob went to investigate with his flashlight and whatever it was certainly wasn’t going to be deterred. It started to freak me out, though if it was a wild boar it would have been louder. Then I saw the shadow of something coming towards me, I flashed my light on it and it turned around in a bit of scurrying waddle back to the shrubbery – we were being investigated by a hedgehog! I guess he had satisfied his curiosity and remained quite during the rest of the light show – we wound up counting up to 35 meteors in all before retiring to the security of the house.

Upon reflection, during July into August of last year during our RV trip, we were traveling from Michigan to Chicago then onto Canada, Niagara and then the Maritimes. By mid-August we were heading down the Eastern Seaboard to the Gulf including Louisiana – which this year was being hit by a horrific heat wave. While the heat was not intense last year, it was incredibly humid, and we were relieved when we found our way back into the beloved high desert of New Mexico with its arid dark skies and turquoise dreams. We had been so fortunate with the weather and glad to have seen what we have; it would have been almost impossible to have done it this year with the wildfires and heat waves that have been pounding North America.

We had also by this time also scheduled our Visa appointment in San Francisco.

I will take a pause here to talk about the devastating fires in Maui as not only have I had the opportunity to spend some fabulous vacations there (including infrared photography work), my father also wrote about the famous banyan tree in Lahaina in his letters to my grandmother while he was stationed in the islands during WWII. He also spoke of its immense nature during our conversations when we talked about the islands and my visits there, and other adventures with his Navy buddies such as finding a road through the sugar cane fields that led to a “secret beach.” He witnessed much of wild Hawaii before tourists began invading this place that truly defines paradise. Being immersed in all its purity off-set much of the trauma he experienced during the War in the Pacific. I pray for the people of Maui as it was a human and cultural loss that in a sense will never be completely restored; too much history has turned to ashes.

Infrared Image of the Famous Banyan Tree in Lahaina, Hawaii

Thankfully, we are now winding down much of the “integration drama” we have been navigating since our arrival; I have finally gotten enrolled into the French healthcare system, though my number is in my maiden name (which is a thing I continue to encounter here). We got inexpensive “top-up” insurance that gives us 100% coverage as we are covered up to 70% for the next five years and need to pay for the remaining 30%. In comparison to the US, it’s inexpensive here and we are shocked at how low the prescription costs are. So we are now covered from the medical side which is a welcome relief!

We have completed our Visa appointment in Bordeaux to wrap up the renewal and receive our Carte de Sejour (extending our long-stay Visa). We are now beginning to feel more “native.” My next challenge is to get my driver’s license which is no small feat even if you speak French. It will be a champagne-popping event when I pass my final exam.

We spent our anniversary at the same restaurant we dined at when we were here nearly two years ago on our reconnaissance trip; the Michelin star La Belle Etoile in the ever-stunning La Roque Gageac. When I think back to that time, winding down our careers and then traveling across US and Canada, it’s been quite an epic adventure. I am glad for the experience, but am equally content to be stationary in our lovely home, putting down the roots of gratitude in the fertile soil of Beausejour.

The ever-stunning La Rogue-Gageac

I have kept this image from outside the restaurant from our first trip on my iPad as wallpaper; as a visualization and reminder of a dream that has now come to fruition. Reflecting back on the journey, it really has been a heck of a thing.

All of this is fitting closure as our first summer winds down, the fields around us are now plowed and tidied up, sparing us the view of depressed sunflowers, and readying the soil for the coming year.

Post-decapitation of the sunflower fields

Stay tuned as the next few months bring the upgrades to our property, including air conditioning, solar and our rainwater tank.

The greenhouse is coming together and I will be attempting a “winter garden.”

Our fellow Americans, Sarah and Brian Addley, helping with the greenhouse.

We will also be off on an autumn trip to explore the fall colors of France and visit the legendary beaches of Normandy.

And now for a French moment

View from the dechetterie (aka: garbage and recycling center in our commune)

May 8 – July 4th Part Trois of our French integration con’t

Posted on July 3, 2023August 6, 2023 Posted in American Expat, Beauxvillage, Dordogne, Expatriation, France, France, French, Jardin, Lotetgaronne, Maison, maison de campagne, Photography, The French Life, Travel, Voyage en FranceTagged #cycling, #expat, #france, #lotetgaronne, #photography, #southwestfrance, #travel, #velo, #villereal4 Comments

We arrived home from our walkabout through Italy to a warehouse of boxes stored in the gite and busied ourselves unveiling an old life and melding it into the new one. While I had ideas of where to put things, it mostly fell into place organically as proportions and ideas are malleable and it was fun to play around with different concepts.

Then spring brought the thunderstorms consisting windy vortexes, lightning and occasional hail; one time a small river developed at the end of our property that soon dissipated into the neighbor’s farm. It was good to know where our property would potentially flood — thankfully that would be at the end of the property where it slopes into the neighboring field.

Pretty…but there is lightning in those clouds

Then suddenly it felt as though summer had arrived with the weather warming to near 80 degrees (25 c). Like Oregon, the mornings are cool, waking up to occasional mist covering the fields and valleys, barely muffling the birds who for now, wake us up gently with their morning ritual.

We have spent time with our new neighbors who live walking distance from us; a good walk though as there are acres between us and them. It has been invigorating getting to know these new friends and neighbors in this rather fantastical “hood.”

This included attending a Mad Hatter Party that included a lot of sugar (really good muffins and cake), and trying our hand at archery. Though I don’t have a day job I wouldn’t quit it to pursue a career as an archer.

We had the opportunity to visit a friend from Portland who was hiking the Camino de Santiago that was commencing in France then meandering into Spain. She was passing through Armignanc (home to the lovely, ancient brandy) and as she was within driving distance, we decided to take a trip down her way to catch up. She and her colleague had already done 500 of the 1000 miles of the trip! After a short but pleasant visit we bid farewell, leaving them with protein bars and electrolyte gels that they gratefully needed when they were caught short without an evening meal.

Bob’s sister and brother-in-law were set to arrive at the end of June, so we got busy again unpacking, sorting, painting, decorating – trying to make the gite habitable and figuring out where to put all our “stuff.”

When we needed a break, the terrace became an extension of our living room where we could flop in the Adirondack chairs (we brought with us!) with our tea and listen to the sounds of nature, and if the wind picked up, our favorite chimes blessed us with their soothing tune.

The mornings are particularly lovely.

Thankfully, Bob got his “CPAM” and is now enrolled in the French healthcare system. I, on the other hand, keep getting requests for information including a new copy of my passport since the one they have is unreadable. It’s not really clear why they made so many copies of it and how it got so mangled, but I bite my tongue and send what they need to complete my file. All of this is done manually and by snail mail. As they say on Mandalore “this is the way.”

During all this I acquired a lovely e-bike in anticipation of cycling the quiet backroads of our hood. I’m looking forward to getting back into cycling shape and taking some packed lunches to the chateaus in the area.

Then the pool arrived. This brought out our French neighbors from across the road and we had a chance to do some fractured-french-bonding as they speak no English. It’s quite something watching the pool land in our yard without taking out the power lines. Within a week they were to dig the hole and fit the pool. Well…this will be interesting to say the least.

A few days later, the “piscine” workers arrived with a digger, and unfortunately it rained for the three days they were excavating the area. I use the term excavate because there were decades of construction and roofing materials (tiles) from the gite that they had to dig through. Through the thunder, lightning and at some times torrential rain, the pool was installed. They did manage to level out where the garden was to go but the rains were followed by high, dry temperatures turning the mud into cement. We will compost heavily and when the rains return (and we will probably have some passing showers over the summer) we will be able to cultivate the garden for next year.

How it’s done in France

Otherwise we will be patient and figure out how to deal with the rather large display of tire tracks that have been sculpted into the lawn.

While all this hustling was happening, in a blink of an eye the sunflowers burst into bloom! We are surrounded on three sides and feel as though we are being spied on as their smiling personas keep a steady and unrelenting vigil over the fields.

Bob’s sister Kathryn, and her husband Bruce arrived just as the weather was warming up. In fact, the weather swung to the other end of the extreme bringing in a high pressure system of heat that eclipsed 90 degrees then fell back into the 70’s when they left! Thankfully they were not rained out and we had a lovely time cruising the countryside and spending an afternoon in Bergerac. Otherwise they decided to hang out with us and work on projects for which we are eternally thankful!!

We bid them a fond farewell, looking forward to another visit when they can do some actual lounging around the pool.

The next day a pool technician arrived to treat the water and get the filter working. The piscine was now ready for use! While the landscape is graveled in a rough and ready sort of way (we have to wait a year to do any credible landscaping as the surrounding earth needs to settle), we can still get some serious laps in.

Then, on a beautiful day with the temperatures in the 70’s we set out on a bike ride through the quiet back roads of Beausejour, cycling by fields of barley, beans and sunflowers, surrounded by the ubiquitous French stone farmhouses and crumbling structures smothered in vines that once held the bounty of a former era, making one feel like you were in a different time and place. I felt as though I was gliding along a slipstream; traveling through the ether of ancient lands and unerring traditions, disturbed only by the occasional modern mechanizations of a passing voiture (car). Not since I lived in Northeastern Washington State as a kid have I been surrounded by this level of beauty and solitude. I am now a thief of time, the flower-sentinels standing ready to defend those rarified moments as I recapture what was once lost to me.

And what did we do when we came back from the bike ride???

And if you’re too busy to get to the boulangerie in time, well never fear!

FocalDreams

Category: Jardin

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May 8 – July 4th Part Trois of our French integration con’t