Je Suis Malade, Meyrals, Driving in the Rain

Je Suis Malade and Meyrals

We were on our way to Perigueux to exchange some cash into euros and passed through the small town of Meyrals. We passed a parking lot full of cars then saw a brocante sign. Kurt quickly turned the car around and we anxiously looked for a parking spot. I could barely wait to take my seatbelt off. We followed the signs but wondered why we hadn't seen any people. Then we realized...it was a funeral. :/

I had started not to feel well and

as we drove around the curvy roads, it had gotten much worse, so Kurt kindly drove me home so that I could sleep while he drove back to Perigueux. Even after all that trouble, he wasn't able to get our money exchanged.

Driving Around in the Rain

It was a misty day and we spent the afternoon driving around in the rain. Since I still didn't feel well, we didn't have any adventures, but we got some interesting pictures through the rainy windshield.

Castle Puymartin and Cazenac Church

After shopping the market in Sarlat, we stopped by the house to hang our wash on the line because the house doesn't have a clothes dryer, which didn't bother me at all. I love to hang my towels and sheets on the line back in Kentucky.

We then drove to Castle Puymartin, where the tour was in French. Since we didn't understand the guide, we just turned our heads to look where everyone else did. They handed us some poorly translated notes in English. We learned that the man of the house came home from war to find his wife with another man, whom he killed. He then locked his wife in a round room, where they passed food to her through a hole in the ceiling. When she died after 15 years, they buried her behind a stone wall in the room. The rumor is that she haunts the house. In the room that joined ours, the door started moving and creaking. We understood the tour guide when she said it must have been Lady Blanche.

Later as the group was going up a set of stairs with a rope handrail, Kurt was the last in line. He said that all of the sudden, the end of the rope started shaking so he turned to see who had done it but there was no one in sight! Ooh!

After the tour, we walked the incredible grounds, then made another quick trip to the house to take the clothes off the line before the rain came. Then we were back on the road again in search of new adventures.

We saw an ancient church on a hilltop near Cazenac and decided to see if it was open. The gate was closed but not locked. The church doors were shut but not locked so we went inside out of the rain. Inside was a quaint little chapel with high-backed wooden chairs with straw seats. There was also a wooden Rapunzel-like staircase. We walked around for a bit and took some pictures. I think I see an angel in one of them. Do you?

As we were leaving, the church bells started ringing loudly and beautifully. Kurt and I just stood there in the rain, overlooking the surrounding beautiful countryside and stared at each other in amazement. We were blessed with so many surreal experiences.

We had barely driven away from the church when a pretty little horse seemed to be watching us, so we pulled over. I got out of the car and the horse bolted toward me. I was so scared that it wasn't going to stop, but it did. She just really needed a nose rub, I guess. Just another strange and lovely experience.

Bordeaux and Dinner with our American Neighbors

Bordeaux

On the drive to Bordeaux, we watched the views outside our windows, turn from castle country to wine country.

Row after row of meticulously pruned grape vines lined both sides of the road. The pleasing palette of earthy brown and spring green set against the blue and white sky stretched as far as the eye could see.

We had left without a plan or a map and arrived in an area that didn't look like the Bordeaux that we imagined. After crossing the most ornate bridge, we arrived in the real Bordeaux.

Kurt and I have allowed ourselves to get what we call, wonderfully lost. It has been fun to happen upon one discovery after another. There is something magical and dreamlike about it. But it can have its downside. Not plan2ning has nearly left us on the side of the road because there aren't fueling stations every few miles as we are accustomed to in the states. We have had to eat ham sandwiches for three meals in a row because grocery stores aren't open around the clock in France. And, once again, forgetting that lunch is only served from 12 until 2, we nearly missed it. At just a couple of minutes until 2, we noticed the clock and dashed into a nearby boulangerie. We purchased the only sandwich they had left. It was just tuna. It wasn't mixed together in a salad. The tuna, lettuce, tomato, onion and pickle slices were layered so we tasted each ingredient. Of course, it was served on crunchy crusted, soft centered French bread. Delicious!

On our way home, we stopped at one of the many roadside family vineyards. It was another wonderful impromptu experience. We pulled off the main road onto a gravel lane which led to a large barn filled with oak barrels, accessories and, of course, it was stocked to the roof with their wines. We were welcomed over to a makeshift tasting table and encouraged to try them all.

We purchased a crate set and naively planned to ship them back to Kentucky. At the post office, they actually laughed out loud at us. Oh, well. We just had to drink them while we were there.

Back at home, Kurt made us pizza with goat cheese. I ate every crumb.

When I heard that the house didn't have air conditioning, I was a little worried about it being uncomfortably hot. But soon found that it got quite cold in the evenings, and I would have given anything for a Snuggie and footie pajamas.

Dinner with our American Neighbors

Later that night, we had a late dinner with an American family that was staying in the house next to us. What a wonderful coincidence.

We sat at our farmhouse table with the doors and windows opened. I appreciated every detail; the bird's serenade, the light breeze blowing through, the warm familiarity of English-speaking new friends, and, of course, the food. We had pork chops, cooked in a mushroom sauce, chicken with onion and garlic, buttered potatoes, and a fresh green salad with vegetable dressing. We had a toasted baguette with Thierry's vanilla fig jam, olives, grapes, cherve and camembert cheeses. We savored them all while we learned about each other's families. Mr. Stevens is a professor who takes his class to Europe each year. How lucky is he?

After dinner, we walked together to Monique's garden and stood there talking with our French neighbors until well after dark. While discussing the differences in the Stephen's northern accent and our southern accent, Jean Louis piped up and said, "Aah, rednecks!" in his French accent. After a good laugh, we came back to our house for extra dark hot chocolate and macaroons. It was such a great evening and were sorry that the Stephens had to leave for Paris the next day.