The French Countryside
Flying to Europe, or anywhere, seems to be more difficult each time because of the security regulations - no liquids or sharp instruments, remove your shoes, jacket, empty your pockets, etc. etc. and then dress again, hopefully with no additional hassle. The good news is that because we love to travel, any inconvenience is worth it to be off on another adventure. I love Ian Littlewood's quote: "Travel is the basic desire to get to someplace or to escape from somewhere. There are those in pursuit and those in flight." We are definity in the category of "those in pursuit."
Flying to Europe, or anywhere, seems to be more difficult each time because of the security regulations - no liquids or sharp instruments, remove your shoes, jacket, empty your pockets, etc. etc. and then dress again, hopefully with no additional hassle. The good news is that because we love to travel, any inconvenience is worth it to be off on another adventure. I love Ian Littlewood's quote: "Travel is the basic desire to get to someplace or to escape from somewhere. There are those in pursuit and those in flight." We are definity in the category of "those in pursuit."
Our flight from Minneapolis had a seven-hour layover in Chicago. Since we hadn’t slept much the night before, and got up at 5:30 for a 7:00 AM departure, we were very tired, so went to the airport Hilton and asked for a "day room." The desk clerk, after satisfying himself that I wasn’t of the "oldest profession," said the best he could do was their standard rate of $179.00. We convinced him that we were only using the room for four hours, and that he could rent it again that night, so he said: "O.K. how about $75.00. So we had our naps and a nice dinner at the hotel and left refreshed for Paris.
We took a cab to the home of our friend, Nicole Barthelet. Her husband, and our long-time friend, Pierre, passed away in April and we were unable to attend the funeral service so wanted to spend some time with Nicole. Doug and I met Pierre through our jobs with Honeywell and Pierre is the one who introduced us. We have visited them many times in France and they have visited us in the U.S., including sailing with us in the Bahamas and the Caribbean. We’ve also traveled to other countries together and with Richard and Pauline Nault.
After enjoying a cup of tea, and hearing about the beautiful funeral services for Pierre, both in Paris and in the village of Oye et Pallet, we left on our five-hour drive to the chalet. It was a very cool day and it rained off and on the whole trip but we enjoyed catching up while sharing the driving. We stopped on one of the motorway restaurants that is the U.S. equivalent of fast food but always seems better when the sandwich is on a fresh baguette. The chalet was a welcome sight as we’ve visited here so many times, we always feel at home. Nicole is an excellent cook and I’m always taking notes so I can try these wonderful dishes myself. Over the years I’ve learned to make such things as pate’, onion tarte, maigret de canard, Moroccan chicken, pork with prunes, crepes, and this time a wonderful way to prepare salmon.
The next morning we walked down the hill to visit Pierre’s grave, which is at the small village church. He’s buried near his parents and next to his brother who died in 1983. When her time comes, Nicole tells us she will be buried next to Pierre. It’s cold and Nicole gives me one of Pierre’s hooded ski jackets to wear. I feel his presence as the jacket warms me. In the afternoon, Nicole’s granddaughter, Marie, arrives by train from Paris for a week-long visit. She’s a delightful, and very beautiful, thirteen-year-old. She’s also quite mature and personable, speaking three languages (French, German and English). She has just returned from three months in Germany so is quite fluent, and her English is very good - much better than my French. While here she’s making up her school work she missed, even though she attended school in Germany. We all love to play cards (well, Doug tolerates it) so she taught a new game and I taught everyone to play nine-card golf. Since it’s cold and rainy, we play during the day as well as in the evenings and we’re all pretty well matched.
Thursday is market day in the nearby town of Pontarlier so we bought fresh vegetables and some very nice potted plants to place on Pierre’s grave. It’s very difficult to be here without Pierre as our host. We miss him dearly. He had so many wonderful stories and loved to entertain us with his jokes. Over the years, Doug and I have learned so much about how to do business in France and the French way of dining, culture and a lot of history of France and Europe. Nicole misses him very much and often dissolves into tears when talking about him, but she wants to talk and reminisce about all the good times we’ve had, so we do. We purchased a tree (from the Naults and from us) to plant in Pierre’s memory and planted it where it can be seen from the dining room window.
This is a beautiful part of France in the Jura (mountains) known as Franche Comte - very near the Swiss border. In fact, we have hiked from here, crossing the border and returning by train. In this region, there are many cows and wonderful cheese is made here - our favorite which is made in September is Mont D’or. Others we like are Comte and Morbier. There is a new cheese this time which is soft like Brie and delicious.
While here, we helped Nicole trim the vines that grow up the sides of the chalet and would cover all the doors and windows if not cut back once a year. Since we usually come here in September or October, I incorrectly assumed we would have warmer weather in July. No so. We built a fire each evening and one day we kept it going all day and played cards huddled in front of the fireplace. I’ve been wearing a sweater of Pierre’s - Nicole says all the children have worn this sweater when they come here unprepared for cool weather. It’s a grey cashmere v-neck and I’d love to keep it but must leave it for others when it’s needed. It feels like Pierre is just perhaps traveling and will return at any time and we’ll see his warm smile and again hear his stories and laughter.
We try to do things for Nicole to somehow ease her grief but it’s there, always just under the surface - the tears ready to start and the sadness on her face. I remember the kindness of friends when Eric died and there was nothing they could do to ease the pain I was feeling but their caring was a comfort. I believe our being here is a comfort to Nicole and she says it’s good to her to have us here and to cook for us and the grandchildren. I know it helps to be busy.
We continue to play cards by the fire as the rain (with thunder and lightening) continues every day. We even had hail one afternoon! We’ve stopped even talking about the possibility of nice weather so that we could go for a hike and picnic.
We took a cab to the home of our friend, Nicole Barthelet. Her husband, and our long-time friend, Pierre, passed away in April and we were unable to attend the funeral service so wanted to spend some time with Nicole. Doug and I met Pierre through our jobs with Honeywell and Pierre is the one who introduced us. We have visited them many times in France and they have visited us in the U.S., including sailing with us in the Bahamas and the Caribbean. We’ve also traveled to other countries together and with Richard and Pauline Nault.
After enjoying a cup of tea, and hearing about the beautiful funeral services for Pierre, both in Paris and in the village of Oye et Pallet, we left on our five-hour drive to the chalet. It was a very cool day and it rained off and on the whole trip but we enjoyed catching up while sharing the driving. We stopped on one of the motorway restaurants that is the U.S. equivalent of fast food but always seems better when the sandwich is on a fresh baguette. The chalet was a welcome sight as we’ve visited here so many times, we always feel at home. Nicole is an excellent cook and I’m always taking notes so I can try these wonderful dishes myself. Over the years I’ve learned to make such things as pate’, onion tarte, maigret de canard, Moroccan chicken, pork with prunes, crepes, and this time a wonderful way to prepare salmon.
The next morning we walked down the hill to visit Pierre’s grave, which is at the small village church. He’s buried near his parents and next to his brother who died in 1983. When her time comes, Nicole tells us she will be buried next to Pierre. It’s cold and Nicole gives me one of Pierre’s hooded ski jackets to wear. I feel his presence as the jacket warms me. In the afternoon, Nicole’s granddaughter, Marie, arrives by train from Paris for a week-long visit. She’s a delightful, and very beautiful, thirteen-year-old. She’s also quite mature and personable, speaking three languages (French, German and English). She has just returned from three months in Germany so is quite fluent, and her English is very good - much better than my French. While here she’s making up her school work she missed, even though she attended school in Germany. We all love to play cards (well, Doug tolerates it) so she taught a new game and I taught everyone to play nine-card golf. Since it’s cold and rainy, we play during the day as well as in the evenings and we’re all pretty well matched.
Thursday is market day in the nearby town of Pontarlier so we bought fresh vegetables and some very nice potted plants to place on Pierre’s grave. It’s very difficult to be here without Pierre as our host. We miss him dearly. He had so many wonderful stories and loved to entertain us with his jokes. Over the years, Doug and I have learned so much about how to do business in France and the French way of dining, culture and a lot of history of France and Europe. Nicole misses him very much and often dissolves into tears when talking about him, but she wants to talk and reminisce about all the good times we’ve had, so we do. We purchased a tree (from the Naults and from us) to plant in Pierre’s memory and planted it where it can be seen from the dining room window.
This is a beautiful part of France in the Jura (mountains) known as Franche Comte - very near the Swiss border. In fact, we have hiked from here, crossing the border and returning by train. In this region, there are many cows and wonderful cheese is made here - our favorite which is made in September is Mont D’or. Others we like are Comte and Morbier. There is a new cheese this time which is soft like Brie and delicious.
While here, we helped Nicole trim the vines that grow up the sides of the chalet and would cover all the doors and windows if not cut back once a year. Since we usually come here in September or October, I incorrectly assumed we would have warmer weather in July. No so. We built a fire each evening and one day we kept it going all day and played cards huddled in front of the fireplace. I’ve been wearing a sweater of Pierre’s - Nicole says all the children have worn this sweater when they come here unprepared for cool weather. It’s a grey cashmere v-neck and I’d love to keep it but must leave it for others when it’s needed. It feels like Pierre is just perhaps traveling and will return at any time and we’ll see his warm smile and again hear his stories and laughter.
We try to do things for Nicole to somehow ease her grief but it’s there, always just under the surface - the tears ready to start and the sadness on her face. I remember the kindness of friends when Eric died and there was nothing they could do to ease the pain I was feeling but their caring was a comfort. I believe our being here is a comfort to Nicole and she says it’s good to her to have us here and to cook for us and the grandchildren. I know it helps to be busy.
We continue to play cards by the fire as the rain (with thunder and lightening) continues every day. We even had hail one afternoon! We’ve stopped even talking about the possibility of nice weather so that we could go for a hike and picnic.
To be continued. . . .
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