Friday, July 9, 2010

Day 6 - To the Dordogne

We were planning to get an early start today since we had a long drive ahead but woke up at 10 AM! We went to bed at 11 PM the night before so I was basking in my well-rested state. After a few really hot days, today was a bit cooler. It was even sprinkling a little as we checked out of our hotel. We decided to try and find breakfast at the nearest town which turned out to be a cute little place called Blere.
It was Sunday and so the whole place felt pretty relaxed. We found a pastisserie and grabbed a quiche, an apple-filled pastry, a cherry tart and a round loaf of bread which we figured we would eat for lunch. We needed our daily coffee fix so sat at the bar of a brasserie and sipped our cafe au lait. I couldn't figure out if the word "bar" in France means the same thing as the word "bar" in the US and I kept wondering if Isla was even allowed to be in there. The guy at the counter didn't seem to bat an eye when we parked her stroller. It's just weird because their "bars" seemed to double as coffee bars and alcohol bars. Anyway, there were men right next to us getting their morning beer and wine (man, the French drink early!) Graham found a French newspaper and was surprisingly able to decipher quite a bit, enough to confirm that the US dollar was still strong. We figured we'd better grab a few more food items for a picnic lunch and so we stopped at a grocery store for fruit, a wheel of what we thought was brie, yogurt and cheap sparkling wine. It was then that I realized I really needed a bathroom. And also when I realized that French people are a lot nicer than we make them out to be. I asked the store clerk for a "toilet" and she proceeded to send her son (who was also working at the store) to escort me as she knew she wouldn't be able to give clear enough directions given her limited English. The boy led me through the town center, around some corners to this tiny stone stall behind the church. There was no light, no tp, no toilet seat and it was really dirty. Now, I can rough it for the most part, but the one thing I don't compromise on is tp. And that's why it is SO WONDERFUL traveling with a baby. From here on, I will always travel with baby wipes. Always. 

We ate our breakfast on the road. I never thought that I liked quiche but this one was incredible! Both Graham and I agreed it was the best we'd ever eaten. Maybe it was the delicious, butter crust. Who knows? Whatever it was, it certainly wasn't lean but I didn't care. By this time, it was quite rainy and cloudy. We forged on and drove until about 2:30 when I again needed a WC (and lunch). Here is where we come upon a prime example of why I love being married to Graham. In my mind, I was thinking we could just pull off the auto route for a toilet and a picnic to kill two birds with one stone. (But how boring is that when you are in France!?)Meanwhile, there was no way Graham was going to just "waste" a stop without seeing something cool. So he opted to pull off at some random hillside town. We didn't even know the name of the place until about two seconds ago when I performed a Google search to figure out that it was called Argenton-sur-Creuse. Graham saw a church on the hill and was determined to figure out how to get there which he did very successfully. This turned out to be such a lovely and memorable picnic! Man, I'm so glad he adds adventure and variety to what would be a very boring and practical life if we always did what I wanted. Look at the view we enjoyed!
We made "sandwiches" with our bread, jambon, cheese and avocado. The cheese turned out to be REALLY strong with was a surprise since it looked just like brie. It overpowered everything else so we hardly made a dent in it. We sipped sparkling wine and listened.
The pictures don't do the scene justice so I'll post a video. We were serenaded by ringing church bells. And a donkey. But it was so beautiful. I really wish we had more church bells back home.
We still had lots of road to cover so we were forced to leave our lovely picnic and head on. We didn't plan very well and didn't think to get gas when we stopped for lunch. So this meant we'd have to stop a third time. We were out in the middle of nowhere but saw a sign for a Super U gas at the next exit so we pulled off. The town was tiny. I think "village" would have been a more appropriate descriptor. Since it was Sunday, the place was completely abandoned and everything was closed. Our gas light was on and we were starting to get desperate but we kept seeing signs for gas so we followed them (but apparently they post them MILES away from the actual station because we had to drive forever to get to them). When we'd finally get to a station, it'd be closed. This whole ordeal ended up being about a 30 minute detour on one-lane roads through rainy farms and fields of sheep. It was quite lovely really, except that we never did find any gas.
We surrendered our idea of finding cheap gas and pulled over at the nearest gas station on the auto route. These trucker stops are HUGE! They have these large buildings, complete with all kinds of food, shopping, bathrooms and showers. Of course the machine rejected both our credit cards and so Graham went inside to try to pay cash. The guy told him that pump 18 accepted cash so off he went to find pump 18. But there wasn't a pump 18. Maybe we're just not meant to get gas? Finally, we noticed a small sign above pumps 1-8 that quite possibly symbolized cash. Ah ha! Maybe he meant pumps 1 to 8 and not pump 18! Voila! That was it and we filled our tank.

We continued on our way. The drive through the countryside was beautiful! We stumbled upon this lovely castle, hanging over the river with it's trailing ivy reaching thirstily for the water.
With all of our added adventures, this supposedly 4 hour drive quickly doubled and took us nearly 8 hours. Isla was getting cranky and I was starting to get a little worried, knowing our accommodations for the night were a farm out in the middle of nowhere. I'd been e-mailing the owner back and forth and she couldn't speak a lick of English so would reply in all French. I would then copy and paste her message into Google translator (and I'm pretty positive she did the same with mine!) Oh man was that entertaining! Here is a sample from one of the e-mails I would received:

"For booking, we ask you a confirmation Written with the exact dates and amount of deposit equivalent to 25% of the global tariff (check dollar deposit, then payment cash sur place)."

I could mostly figure out what I was being asked to do, but I was never 100% sure. After numerous e-mails, I ended up doing a bit of math and figured out what 25% of the rates would be in Euro and then converted it to US dollars based on the exchange rate on that particular day. Then I wrote a check in US dollars and sent it via snail mail to the middle-of-nowhere as our deposit. Magically, it got to them safe and sound. Phew. (And I will say it was much easier and cheaper than wiring money, although maybe not as secure). Anyway, I was just hoping I'd done it all right and that we'd actually have a place to stay that night. I guess I must have become we were warmly welcomed at Auberge Veyret around 7 PM.
Isla and I are pictured looking out the window of our room in one of the farmhouses. We had read that our room would be "furnished like Grandma's" which turned out to be a very accurate description! It was large with frilly, flowery pink bedding, pink carpet and even pink toilet paper (which Graham had a hard time bringing himself to use). We had a bath meant for bathing only as there was no curtain or wall--the French like their baths! I spotted a few ants and there were definitely some flies zooming around both our room and the dining room. I kept telling myself that we were on a farm and that bugs come as part of the package.
The view from our window of some of the other cute farm buildings.

We were told dinner would be served at 7:30 PM. Now, we'd splurged a bit here, as was strongly recommended by Rick Steves and his staff, and had both dinner and breakfast included with our accommodations (called a half pension). The dinner meal was a 5 course, nightly ordeal and it was well worth it! I was so pleased to see they had a high chair since I knew we were going to be eating for quite some time to fit in all the courses. We were seated by our sweet waitress who served us over our entire stay. She immediately offered us an aperitif of either noir (walnut liquor) or some other liquor that I can't recall. I decided to sample the noir as it was a local specialty. Of course it was then that I realized that in the stress of our late arrival, I'd spaced and forgotten to nurse Isla before our meal. So I "casually" excused myself and ran to our room for a few minutes to feed the baby before sampling my aperitif. Whew! It was strong! I tried to drink it to be polite but only managed a couple sips.

Our table was full. Displayed before us was a basket of local walnuts, a cute clay jar of pickles and onions, a tin of mustard, and an embroidered fabric pouch which we later realized was where we were to place our cloth napkins following the meal so we could use them again at breakfast. We also had a basket of bread and a bottle of red wine to share. There was no menu, you just took your seat and enjoyed what was served. Our first course was a tomato bisque. It was delicious and it was hard to refrain from 2nd helpings, despite the knowledge that it was only the beginning of our multi-course meal. 
Next we had a pastry with walnut and mushroom filling (pictured above). It was so flaky and tender and definitely a trip food highlight for me. Next arrived a salad of mixed greens (from the farm's own garden) with walnuts and a sweet, lemony dressing. Our main course we think, after doing some reading, was pork glazed in duck fat with orange. It was served with haricot verts (thin french green beans) that even Graham gobbled up! Just when we thought we were getting full, along came the cheese course! Our waitress hardly spoke any English so most of the time she told us what she was serving in French and we would nod and pretend like we understood. We didn't know what kind of cheese we'd ordered but it turned out to be blanc fromage frais (fresh white cheese), served with homemade confiteres (jams) of melon, kiwi, pumpkin and peach. I thought the cheese looked really good and so took a rather generous scoop. I immediately regretted it. The cheese is so hard to describe! It was like thick yogurt, just a little thinner than ricotta. It felt sort of pasty and clumpy in your mouth and had a sour flavor. I guess you could say it wasn't my kind of cheese. For a second there, I was really disappointed, assuming the cheese had been my dessert. But then the waitress returned with a dessert menu. Graham had the walnut creme brulee and I, what I'm pretty positive was a chocolate orange cake with ice cream.
We were both impressed with the lovely presentation, especially given the rather small size of the kitchen and the few number of staff (one waitress served all the tables and we couldn't quite tell how many were in the kitchen, maybe one or two). We were offered coffee or tea following dessert and we both requested decaf. We were surprised when our waitress presented us with none other than a can of pre-ground Maxwell House coffee which she allowed us to scoop into our cups ourselves. Hmmm. It didn't feel right to be drinking "fake" coffee while in France. Lastly, we were offered our digestif options which included cognac for Graham and cassis (black currant liquor) for me.  Again, I was only able to take a couple sips before I couldn't take it anymore. It tasted like cough syrup to me!

Isla did great throughout the meal, sampling her first pork and loving the bisque. There must be something about the positioning of French highchairs because she worked on a big poo at dinner for the second night in a row. I had to excuse myself again towards the end of the meal to change her as her little mess was making her fussy. But in the process of passing her over the table, I spilled my walnut liquor all over our tablecloth. Graham tried to mop it up as best he could with he napkin and act natural until we returned. We returned our napkins to their embroidered pouch all the while wondering if we'd really have to reuse them in the morning, particularly the one soaked in liquor (answer: yes!)

Isla cried a bit when we tried to put her down for the night, but went to sleep once we turned off most of the lights. I read a little to Graham and we hit the sack at 11 PM.

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