Conques

Turns out that Conques is, by it's own admission, the most beautiful villiage in France. Quite breathtaking. The ride there was full of interesting sights as well. We only stopped once for lunch and once for a cascade.

Lunch was a traditional regional dish called Aligot. Comfort food at it's best. Aligot is actually mashed potatoes with grated cheese mixed in and thereby melted so that the potatoes take on the consistency of the gooey stringy cheese. It is either served with duck legs or sausage. I had the sausage-quite good. There are a few more ingredients listed on the postcard I bought for Marcia-butter and creme fraiche, tome d'Auvergne, fabriquee de l'avant veille-lard-sel-poivre-and best of all, ail.

So, we got time to digest in the car and some of us got a little nap. We were traveling with Tao, Francoise's grandson who is 3. He is not entirely sure what is wrong with me or more importantly how I can be managed to his benefit, but he keeps an eye on me and occasionally allows me to help him out. He and Bernard have a constantly running dialogue. Clearly they adore each other as they jockey for position of top rooster and Bernard teaches Tao about how the world works.

Tao continued his nap as Francoise and I explored the little villiage of Conques and the church, which is on one of many routes to Santiago de Compostella. There was also a museum of relics of St Foy which were actually interesting. She has some 9th and 10th century beginnings with elaboration of jewels over the ages. No photos though, so I bought a postcard. There was also a choir from Poland who performed in the church. As far as I'm concerned music is justification for the building of cathedrals. So, I enjoyed it.

For the rest of the afternoon we were off to meet Francoise's sister, Martine and her husband, Claude at the Marche de Potiers-the Pottery Market. These happen all summer and into the fall. There are awards given to potters by the local arts council. They are based on the voting of the public that visit the market. Of course Martine won a prize-a food and wine and fruit basket. I had a good time oogling the pottery and having conversations with some potters. One in particular was a guy in his 20's. He and some other potters had worked together to build a wood fired kiln and had fired quite a number of pieces. The kiln was 10meters square-almost enough for them to stand up in, and they fired it to amazingly high temps. He had a photo book to show me. Some of his pieces were gas kiln fired once and then again in the wood kiln to give them character.

We sat at Martine and Claude's table for most of the evening. Claude and Martine have more of a command of English, so we occasionally had conversation. Martine and I got an opportunity to talk this morning as we were first up. Hard to believe that there are sleepers who outsleep me, but it is really happening. So, Martine was a headmistress of a school in Paris near the Eiffel Tower, and Claude was the head of Radio France. They both quit their jobs about 15 years ago and became potters. They make wonderful stuff and have an impressive workshop with several wheels and three kilns-small electric, gas big kiln and a woodfired raku kiln. I have gotten several ideas from their work that I want to work on myself. Needless to say, the house is full of pottery and we eat with the seconds which are still quite nice.

Their house is on a mountainside with a little road of switchbacks to get up. The house was the farmhouse of Claude's grandparents, and was Claude and Martine's holiday home until they moved in and added on making it a spacious rambling house with lots of stairs and many levels and a garden leading down to a pool and outdoor dining area. The pool has an excellent view of the countryside around. It is quite the paradise. Claude's sister and her husband have another side of the house and a cousin has several rooms that she shares in the summer with a couple from the UK who have been lifelong friends of the family.

So, we had a long petite dejunier with homemade jams and preserves on the endless supply of pain that emerges from a drawer at the end of a long farmhouse table. Then, after an explore of the pottery workshop and a swim for Bernard and Francoise and Tao, we had a nice lunch featuring garden fresh haricort vert freshly picked this morning. Lunch was on the other long farmhouse table next to the pool and covered by an arbor of kiwi that produce fruit the size of large grapes. No one knows what to do about this underachieving kiwi, but it provides shade for our dejunier.

I am watching the end of today's run of the Tour de France on TV as I type. At 7 the Gaus will come to pick me up for dinner at Isabelle and Patrick's house. Isabelle has offered to be my taxi this week. She is job hunting, but has lots of free time these days and would like to improve her English. We will also go with them to a jazz performance tomorrow night. So, it is a busy time here for me.

I'm still not sure if Tony and Francoise will join me here. We are exchanging texts occasionally.

I understand that Obama is on TV, but apparently I will have to wait for the news or better still, bring him up online. For us here it is all about the Tour de France in the Haute-Pyrenees.

KG