Arriving in France

After nearly twenty-four hours of travel from home to Nashville, to Baltimore to Paris, then seven hours by car to southern France, we finally arrived at the hamlet of Baran. Walking down the lane to our front door, (with actual door bells), the smell of spring flowers on every door stoop and windowsill welcomed us to the French countryside. We were met by the caretaker, Roger, who gave us a short tour of the house and some basic information about the area, then promptly left us alone in this foreign place.

Exhausted and jetlagged, we unloaded our bags and set out to find a grocery store as we were starving and there were no restaurants in this very rural place.

After our gourmet dinner of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, (so much for our first French meal) we took a walk around the hamlet. Roger had told us that all lands were public and that we could walk freely without regard to property lines.

An inconspicuous dirt path lured us in and let us pick a bouquet of wildflowers for the kitchen table.

Fields of sheep and cattle grazed contently in their heavenly pastures.

. Chickens walked around as freely as we did in the little town square.

Multitudes of birds sang loudly, bragging to us about how lucky they were to live there.

The centuries old houses, with their red tiled roofs had stone drains that poured out onto the gravel, creating a soothing trickle.

As we walked back toward our maison, crunching gravel underfoot, it seemed as though we were in another world. It felt surreal, like a dream. The ochre-colored houses cast a golden glow that wasn't only seen but felt. I felt God in this place. He seemed to be near and pouring out blessings on me

Details

Windows

Four-hundred-year-old floor stonework

Ancient Drains

Around our hamlet

After a good night's sleep, we were ready to venture outside our hamlet.

The Trip of a Lifetime, and how it came to be

In 2008, I had traveled by Eurostar from London to Paris and had gotten a glimpse of tiny cars zipping through the French countryside. I knew instantly that someday I wanted to drive down those roads and explore where they led. For several years, I thought about it from time to time and finally when I began to plan how to celebrate my 50th birthday, I dared to start dreaming. I dared to see myself there, living in a community of people and experiencing life, even just for a little while, among them. From that vision, I made lists of what I needed to do to make it happen, starting with finding a place to fit in.

After seeing the image of the house and talking to the owner from California, I knew that this was the place I had imagined in my dreaming, a four-hundred-year-old stone cottage in a small hamlet of only seventeen homes.

Next began the long year of preparations, from learning the language, to getting in shape and most importantly, figuring out how to pay for the trip.

My family isn't wealthy, not even close and when I would tell people about my month-long trip, I'm sure they wondered how I could afford such a thing. But when you want something badly enough, you find a way to make it happen. I vowed not to take from our family budget, so I came up with a plan to make the money on my own.

At that time, large chalkboards were all the rage in home decor, used for keeping up with family schedules, daily bible verses or favorite quotes. I set about purchasing ornate frames from junk stores and yard sales. I painted and distressed them. I had metal cut for each one then painted them with coat after coat of chalkboard paint. I hauled them to craft shows in Kentucky and Tennessee each weekend from early fall, all the way up until Christmas.

I made a lot of money but still fell a little short, so I took a job in a tax preparation office from January through April 15th, which left just under a month to work out the final details.

I had planned to go alone because my husband had no desire to tag along. People thought I was crazy, and in hindsight, I probably was, but I wasn't afraid. My son had just completed his graduate degree from Colorado State University and was moving to Nashville and at the last minute, he decided to go with me. He placed his belongings in storage and planned to explore Europe while I "lived" in France. I am so glad God saw fit to send him with me. He was my rock and such a help to me from the moment we landed and had trouble with the rental car. It didn't take long for me to realize that I would have been so lonely without him. All my experiences would have been hollow without someone to share them with.

This picture of me watering my French neighbor's flowers while she was away to Italy for two weeks is the "cherry on top" of my summer in France. I had found a place to fit in and it was more than I could have ever dreamed.

A Month in the French Countryside

Would you like to come along? Each day during the month of May, I'll be sharing photos and stories of my time spent in southern France, starting with this dreamy four-hundred-year-old stone cottage I rented for the month-long stay. No need to pack your bags, just grab a cafe' and a blanket and enjoy the outdoor markets, ancient castle tours, the brocantes, rustic gardens, the vineyards and the churches. Oh, the churches! And let's not forget Paris, the Louvre, the restaurants and Montmartre' (my favorite). We'll spend some time at the Mediterranean Sea and the beaches of Bordeaux. We'll even attend a bullfight in a two-thousand-year-old Roman Ampitheatre. I'm excited to re-live it, one adventure after another. I'd love to have you join me.

To learn more about my connection to France, check out the blog post "I am French, Oui?" by clicking the link below.

https://www.mylittlefrenchfarm.com/post/i-m-french-or-am-i