Da Dunes

Bridgette and I took a road trip recently to see a few sites around the southwest of France. First on our list was the Dune du Pyla, or the "Great Dune of Pilat," to add the epithet and alternate spelling, which is about 60km from Bordeaux along the Atlantic coast. This beast is about 1.5 miles long and 350 feet tall, making it ideal for burning out quads grown in Illinois, and also ideal for concentrating winds for some sweet paragliding. Sorry, but we did no paragliding ourselves, just sat and observed the crazies around us doing so.

Foire Canine

A quick one here: Sunday was the foire canine, or dog fair. From what we've heard, it used to be held up here in the village, and after mass (it's always on a Sunday), a few select dogs would be blessed by the priest in the church a few doors down. Heh!

But these days the fair takes place just outside of town, so we drove a few minutes and checked out the scene. The dogs were predominantly hounds, which are fun dogs to see, but we were hoping for a bit more variety. There were two young St. Bernards that reminded me of that 90's kids flick, Beethoven.

Anyways, the dogs were caged up, trying to get what shade they could on a very hot day, and some were ready for the camera. In one pen, they were taking turns standing / laying in the drinking water.

Unfortunately, the density of the animals were sending my allergies into an uproar, so our time there was cut a bit short...

Okay, so this guy wasn't in the fair, but he seems to be one of the locals in the village.

Sunflowers, Pigeons, and Shakespeare

Lauzerte (we're somewhere in the middle of that)

I have described Lauzerte to people as "a medieval village on top of a hill surrounded by vineyards and fields of sunflowers." This is no exaggeration, and the past few weeks, especially with the hot weather, have seen the flowers turn dry and saggy. Luckily, I snagged some photos of the fields during one of our hikes around the countryside, just before they really turned ugly.

Besides taking their seeds for munching, their oil is harvested and very common in the grocery stores alongside the many other types of vegetable oils for sale. They're happy plants:

While on that same hike, we came across a funny looking building:

After some research, Bridgette later found that these were used as pigeon houses 200+ years ago, which explains the sparse, thin, tall, openings and a simple interior. The farmers would use the pigeons for food (yum?), but also for their droppings as fertilizer. Now, why raise the coop off the ground on mushroom-capped columns? To prevent your local prey from taking your delicious, feathery dinner! (The mushroom caps prevented clever climbers from outsmarting the farmers.)

Lauzerte features much live entertainment, as we've mentioned before. Recently, a travelling theater group, Antic Disposition, came through the square and put on Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream," which we happily took a seat for and enjoyed on a beautifully calm August evening, right outside our door.

That play is "stupid," as one of our new British friends remarked. And I'd have to agree that it achieves a special level of silliness, and one that goes to explain where Brits get their unique sense of humor. This same person also commented (something along these lines) on her fellow Brits as looking completely ridiculous lining up for tickets before the play's start. "ah, you can tell the Brits are out once you start seeing a queue forming. Look at them looking like idiots, all standing there waiting while no one's even at the table to sell them anything..." (The French don't know the concept of lines. You should have seen the mad rush at church when it came time for communion. Everyone piled out of the pews at once like it was a free-for-all. I was astounded, and a bit scared of being trampled) Regardless, the play is completely entertaining, hilarious, and the production we saw was very well done for a travelling, outdoor group.

There goes the baker with his tray like always....

Our home for the summer

Yes, this little ditty has been stuck in my head over and over as I look out over the town and think, yep, this is just about like the scene in Beauty and the Beast as Belle frolics through her most perfectly provincial town.

Life here is certainly from another world, and it's crazy to think that for only being here a short while, this place feels so much like home. You start to recognize a handful of people walking through town, and they actually stop to chat. We only get about 50% of what they are saying, but a lot of smiling and nodding and adding in a comment here and there seems to move the conversation along alright. Unless you're the British cook who runs the restaurant next door. Then the talking's easy ; ) Some of our favorite characters, though, include Pierre and his little dog Lu who dine at the restaurant next to us everyday for both lunch and dinner. He knows a little English, but mostly speaks slurred French to us as he explained he's a retired engineer who lives in the only other house on the square (besides ours). His little dog follows him around like a little mop, and it's all so precious. Then there's Marcel who apparently lives in the retirement home down the street, fumbling through the square, pants hiked, sometimes sporting a beret (perfect, right?), trying to chat with everyone . He came up to talk to us on our first day in town and spoke the most jumbled language we've ever heard. Adam and I could only stare in disbelief. We later learned from a neighboring American that unfortunately, he's been somewhat slow his whole life, and is really just bumming for a cigarette. The next time he came up to us, we could at least tell him we didn't smoke. Then there's the random guy who stands around in the square by himself, belly hanging out, headphones in, fanny pack in tow, smoking a pipe. Or the guy who always sets us shop near our door on market days to sell sausages and gingerbread. Or the round man who sells all his round cheeses. You could easily make cartoon characters out of all these people.

At the photo exhibit housed in the neighboring town's
Marie (Town Hall). 

On the other hand there's a whole community of English speakers here as well. With the help of our landlords and their American friend down the street, we've met a whole handful of Brits these past couple of weeks who have so welcomely opened their arms to us inviting us over to everything from drinks to dinner to a private opening for a photo exhibit. And with these meetings and chit chat comes the gossip. OH the gossip in town amongst this small group of retirees. She left him for this french guy, so they're no longer friends, or this couple can no longer be around this couple because such-and-such happened in the past....it goes on and on. It's great. One night we had a couple people over to our place for drinks before a play on the square that evening (another post in the making), and with our doors opening out onto the square, all of a sudden we had a few more randoms show up, bring a bottle of wine, and hang out for a bit. We loved it.

Adam and I realize that here we are, meeting all these people who have retired, gutted old boulangeries or farmhouses or whatever, and settled themselves in the beautiful countryside to spend a chunk of their retired days....exploring, cooking, drinking, blogging, photographing, painting, learning a language ....oh wait, kinda like what we're doing now. It's a good exercise to see how others are doing it and to practice ourselves how we really enjoy spending our own time to know how to do it once that concept of a 'job' goes away in the future. The reminder that there really is a whole other life waiting for you beyond your career is inspiring.

Ok, a bit more of life around town.....

Vista of clay tiled roofs speckle the hill. The architecture and vegetation give this
region a  much more Spanish/Italian feel.

Images surrounding the 'Pilgrims Garden' - items to look for along the Compostela Route 

Every Thursday night the town hosts the 'Marche Gourmande' in either the upper square (outside our door) or the lower square (midway down the hill) where food/wine vendors come to sell their wares. A band is usually involved as well which makes the whole atmosphere feel like a french form of Octoberfest. This is a view out our window on one of these Thursdays. 

We have yet to try this stuff. We think it's a plate of snails in cream and truffles cheese sauce? It doesn't look healthy at all so it must be good.

Every Saturday, the 'normal' marche sets up on the square. These are some more sniper views from our window . Needless to say, most any day of the week, there's always something to spy on down below. 

Produce

Garlic Guy!

Les Nuits de Lauzerte

The Nights of Lauzerte is a two-night art festival that takes place right outside our door. In fact, when we popped out to see what was going on, we found ourselves behind the festival tape.

The fest takes place throughout the streets of the village surrounding the main square (Place des Cornières) and inside the various galleries and participating establishments. The square was full of the typical food and drink vendors, box office, and a crowd of wanderers, slowly trickling through the entrance. Being resident locals (ha!) we were gifted with passes for the two nights from the mairie, which was certainly kind of them, so we sauntered with the crowds into the candle-lined streets.

Projectors were arranged throughout the village, illuminating entire building facades with vibrant colors, textures, and sometimes scenes that transformed the feel of the town into something otherworldly.

The galleries displayed paintings, installations, photographs, and scultptures.

And dancers had a few stages for live performances.

Despite a little bit of rain on Saturday night, we managed to see most of the exhibits and shows, and we certainly had a wonderful time seeing the town changed into something quite different and exciting!

(Almost) 76 Trombones

The other day, Bridgette and I were out in the square, reading, on a beautiful afternoon. We could hear rehearsing of a band inside the church nearby. Our friend, Greg, stopped by with his trusty companion, Bosco:

Bosco, the Boston terrier, in all his glory.

It's been impossible not to love the little guy. Greg's pretty cool, too. ;-) And then the band came out into the square, set up a few music stands and a drum kit, and before we knew it there was live music:

They were sharing a little sneak preview of their trombone concert a few days later, which we were sure to attend at the Eglise St Barthelemy, a few doors down. Bridgette was sure to catch a few seconds of them performing the theme from The Simpsons:

Lauzerte

We have been here nearly two weeks, so I think it's about time that we share an update on Lauzerte, France. (I am happy the atmosphere of this village is one that makes me not want to blog.)

Bridgette and I have settled easily into a home situated on the main square of this medieval village. Back sometime in the 1100's, the Count of Toulouse settled this place, probably because he realized a ton of pilgrims were making their way from all over Europe and stopping by this place. To this day, the pilgrims make the trek out to Santiago de Compostela in the northwest corner of Spain, where tradition says the apostle Saint James is buried, and thus the route is aptly named St. James' Way. Lauzerte is very close to Moissac on this map of the routes:

While I'm talking about St. James, you may know that his emblem was the scallop shell, symbols of which can be found around the city if you keep a keen eye open. Also, back in the day, hardcore pilgrims would wear the symbol on their journey. Today, on a French menu, one can often find noix de St. Jacques, but no, this is not a meal of Saint Jack's nuts, but actually tasty sea scallops — yum! (I should add that the Limousin in Versailles serves an amazing dish of these.)

Where was I? Yeah, so the Count, being clever, founded the city, which thrived as a hub on this pilgrimage, and the city flourished under the economic and religious influences thereof. And it being the medieval period, the city was walled in, fortified, and full of cobblestone and cute little timber and stone buildings all over the place. Over the centuries, the walls became less necessary for keeping the riffraff out, but the village has remained, atop a hill, surrounded by fields of sunflowers and vineyards. It is distinguished as one of Les plus beaux villages de France, the most beautiful villages of France.

So here we are, soaking up what the village has to offer: amazing vistas of the surrounding valleys, friendly locals, markets, live music, our next door restaurant, and this weekend, Les Nuits de Lauzerte.