It's going to be strange, arriving home. Tom who has been my partner for the last four or more years has decided that we, being of different political persuasions, should part ways. He's probably right - neither of us will change and neither of us can ignore what's happening just now in our country. We are still on very good terms and share memories of many happy times.
So leaving here takes on more meaning. It means two kinds of endings and two kinds of beginning again.
Anyway, I'll try to fill in a little of how I spent the last week or so here.
Driving out of Albi, I crossed a small river. From a pull-off on the road, I found a little path down to what is the upper Herault River. Montpellier is in the Herault region of Languedoc in France and this river as it becomes large is a main feature of the region. This part where it's little looks like a great place to come back to with a picnic and at least wading clothes.
The first night out from Albi where the bicycle tour ended, I had booked an Airbnb room in a home in a mountain town off the main road to the west: Saint-Andre-de-Majencoules. I would say this was my most authentic experience of village life. The host, an Englishman who had lived there with his family starting about 20 years ago, was eager to speak English and to tell me things he had learned and experienced there. The area is a major source for growing white sweet onions; those layered fields of them in the background above are everywhere. The town itself sits across a stream which supplies the town water. There are two sets of two stone vats, each with a higher one running into a lower one, where women used to wash their clothes. The houses are built high on the steep slopes with many stories in each. Everyone in town used to grow silkworms and most of the rooms contained silkworms, with just a few rooms left for people to live in. But trade with China changed all that. Now most of the people who lived here have either built a newer house just around the area or have died. Now the purchasers are people from cities who want a lovely place for a two-week geteaway each year. Many of the houses are vacant. Whoo! Hope you got all that.
I didn't pay much for the room and the house was very simple, but full of interesting nooks, crannies and cellars.
This and below are a balcony for my room, pretty but little used.
My rental car was a Renault. I had it for 15 days. It's lucky for me that my own last car was a stick shift because this one is too. I paid $264 for all that time and used only 1/2 tank gas. Gas here is about the same price as it is at home so that wasn't much cost for having a car.
This is the car's key - a flat slab that is inserted into the dashboard. When it clicks, you push "Start" and everything comes alive.
When I asked for a map, the rental agent took me out to the car and turned on and set up the GPS program, saying that I hadn't paid for it, but he knew how to start it anyway. THAT TURNED OUT TO BE A LIFESAVER! I had no idea how to get from place to place in those intricate streets in the cities. And sometimes the GPS took me to dead ends and one-way streets going the wrong way. BUT, I just drove somewhere else and let the voice tell me another way to get there and eventually I did.
It was only an hour or two's drive from the village room to my next rental (VRBO) which was just east of Nimes. I drove into Nimes to have lunch. Here I discovered the well-preserved roman arena that is much like the one in Rome. Used first as an outdoor event center for animal and people fights and such, for a while it was filled with homes and shops. Later these were removed and it is once again an event center. So a building surviving since the first century still being used for its original purpose.
The little house I rented was on a street just outside a tiny village. It was upscale, made of stone and with fun little features such as the oversize bathtub and sitting and dining areas and a small pool outside.
The owner had been a sailor. He carefully explained why the bed was tapered a little at the bottom and you entered it from the pillow end: it was to mimic the V-berth in a sailboat.
I had chosen this place because it looked so cute in the pictures and it was close to Montpellier (26 miles) so I would have the opportunity to see what the land felt like outside the city. I walked toward a second small village and saw horses, bulls, vineyards and olive groves along the way.
Ok, right in here belongs the picture of the olive trees and the natural method of killing insects. Remember our old fly keep-away remedy of hanging a bag of water on the porch? Well they do it with more decisive results. These bottles are all alike and on each tree. They each have about 2 inches of water at the bottom and four holes cut around part way up. Apparently the insects come in, drown in the water or can't fly out. Anyway they each had a smattering of dead insects inside. C'est une bonne idee, non?
My last few days here are in this little apartment in a modern apartment building, five floors up with an elevator. It is a couple of blocks from the River Lez which is the river through town. Three of the four tramways stop here so it is very convenient to everything.
The night I arrived here was a Sunday and not much was open for dinner. I found an Asian/Japanese place that suited me fine: Sushi and other delicacies came out on a conveyer belt and I just took what I wanted. Plus there was a buffet where other Asian dishes and desserts were available, all for one price. It was a fun break from so much "pretty food."
Coffee, not wine, seems to be the beverage of choice if you are thinking of all day long. Of course, it's mandatory with the petit dejeuner: the breakfast of coffee, fruit, bread, yoghurt in the morning. But people often have a little cup of strong, flavorful coffee after lunch and dinner too. This is what I liked, a noisette: good strong coffee with a little steamed milk. I plan to order four of them at the airport in the morning and ask them to put them all in the same larger cup!
Yesterday, I went back to my favorite park which was near my little apartment there.
This "entrée" (beginning dish) is what I had for lunch: lovely sliced tomato and creamy fresh mozzarella drizzled with this pesto dressing and bread. And wine.
Since I was just wandering around trying to see all the spots I had come to know, I had time to sit for a while and watch the children (and mommas, some of them in hajibs) play in this ever-changing fountain. You might like it, too.
Today, I finally got to have lunch with the woman I had met earlier in the American Women's Group here who grew up in Greenbriar, Arkansas just 15 miles from where I did in Quitman. A long-time friend of hers from Italy was visiting and along for lunch so Genette spent a good deal of time keeping us both clued in as to what we were talking about! I got to hear a little of how she came to be here in Europe: She had studied German in college. Just as she and a partner were breaking up, she was offered a one-year contract in Brussels translating technical information. She took it and the rest as they say, is history. She is on her own now with her husband's death two years ago. We will be seeing each other again, if and when, I come back to this area.
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