I’m sitting in the dining room of a home in a small village near La Rochelle, France. I’m a guest, and treading as lightly as possible while soaking up the ordinary and interesting ways of life of a French couple slightly younger than Mary and me whose two children, like ours, have flown the nest. At the same time I’m trying to participate in and contribute to the bustle of life in the house. Mary is in Paris in an apartment with old friends.
Last Wednesday Mary and I drove the 400km or so to Dompierre-sur-Mer from just south of the Spanish border, on the way bypassing Bordeaux, a big and busy city. Without detailing the circumstances of how we came to be here, it is sufficient to say that we had been invited by Alain and Claude to stay with them, Mary for two nights before going to Paris, and I for a week more. While here I am being looked after royally by our new friends, whom we had never met before, and of course Alain and I are fishing (with success) whenever the opportunity arises. He has taken a week off work while I’m here.
Language difficulties were foremost in the minds of both couples at the time of our arrival but in the event our hostess and host have proven totally adequate in speaking English (somewhat hesitantly but the message comes through) and I have been learning French as quickly as I can.
La Rochelle and the nearby Isle de Ré have been pleasant surprises to Mary and me. As far as I can tell they are completely off the tourist trail for Australians, although the residents of Esperance in Western Australia, which is twinned with a village on the island, may disagree. This may be a good time to throw in some pics taken since last Wednesday.
That's Alain next to Mary, and Claude, closest to the camera.
Mary about to board the TGV for Paris at La Rochelle on Friday. Alone but in first class! Alain at right.
Alain and I launched our kayaks shortly afterward.
And caught fish.
A kayak fisherman’s view of the massive bridge to Ile de Ré at dawn during our second fishing trip.
There are discussions every night over dinner about English and French words and phrases. Plenty of laughs, surprises, and thumbing through the huge French-English paper-based dictionary. Claude is an inexhaustible cook, turning out wonderful meals for lunch and dinner, usually with fish we've caught, or produce she has freshly acquired at the various markets. Daughter Pauline with her Cuban born husband Randy and one month old daughter Mia visit the family home almost daily. And every day I get to visit the nearby supermarket and boulangerie, alone, trusted to top up the family’s food, drink and other needs, provided on a list for me by Claude.
I get to accompany the family, which includes Hector and Ulysses on the usual walk along the tow path of the disused canal nearby. The ducks in the canal are fed with old baguettes by Claude, every day.
A pecher (fisherman) is always present when Claude walks the dogs. Much serious conversation goes on between the strollers and the fisherman. Unfortunately I can participate only marginally in the discussions.
My next challenge for this trip is to return the car to a facility at Orly airport, some 400 km away, on Friday, alone. Then to get into the centre of Paris by train with our remaining luggage, meeting Mary at the hotel we have booked. We depart for Australia via Hong Kong on Saturday.
I hope you have enjoyed reading about France.
Kev
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