The French Journal

Gascony: A France of one's own

Once you get out of Paris, particularly during off-season, you're likely to come across areas where you'll feel like the only tourist for miles. This can be one of the joys of such a visit, to have all of that splendor to yourself.

A writer for the San Francisco Chronicle has many such experiences when she spends time in the former region of Gascony, a part of southwest France, now officially split between the Aquitaine and the Midi-Pyrénées. The visit has a leisurely pace. There are things to see, of course, like the caves of the Grotte de Pech-Merle, where -- unlike Lascaux -- you can view actual prehistoric paintings and not recreations. A number of the "Hundred Most Beautiful Villages of France" are in Gascony, and several others are examples of "bastides," or fortified towns. The spirits of the Romans and of Henri IV are also in evidence. Mostly, the writer has the joy of leaving well-trod roads and making discoveries that seem all her own. 

One such is a visit to a workshop which has dedicated itself to "Bleu du Lectoure," the royal blue color derived from a plant called Woad that was the signature color of kings. The website devoted to the enterprise has a French language video which explains the process (and which -- with its George Winston-like score and shots of golden fields -- you can watch for a Monday morning escape of your own).

Trucs, Part I: Politics, food, culture, web stuff

Francophilia galore:

• Politique reborn. Boz, the blogger whose site Politique closed down earlier this year, is back with Sarkozy the American, a similar mix of observations on the French political scene. A welcome return!
• Meringues, as a matter of style. A writer from The New York Times remembers fondly a French friend who could throw together a dinner party menu in about six seconds. One secret: a dessert made with meringues. Here's the formula.
• Just when you thought the "Death of French Culture" was dead. The Cultural Services of the French Embassy has made available "A Letter to Our American Friends," a translation of the "official" French response to the much-discussed Time magazine article.
• Do you iGoogle? If so, Samantha of The French Corner has put together a theme/wallpaper that might add a little French flair to your homepage.
• Gay, Ex-pat, living in Toulouse, Part II: I erred last week in suggesting that CyberFrance: Lost in France had this territory all to himself. Here's another: France Tales, a melange of photos, videos, and observations. There may be more...
• What's new for the French traveler? The Independent (U.K.) offers a list of some of this year's new options for exploration: The Wellington Quarries in Arras, Lourdes's 150th, the Toulouse version of Vélib’, tours for the family, etc.

I know I'm forgetting something. Will add as the day passes.

Everything old is new again: Arc de Triomphe, Lourdes, Paris in a rear view mirror

Improvisations on a theme of looking anew at familiar spaces:

• The museum at the Arc de Triomphe has been upgraded (USA Today). The dowdy exhibits, which had been unchanged since the 30's, are now interactive, with displays devoted to "arches of the world" and the Arc's history, and special telescopes through which you can view the Paris skyline.
• Lourdes celebrates an anniversary (AFP). The 150th, to be exact, of Mary's first appearance on February 11 to Bernadette Soubirous in a grotto. Throughout the year, there will be other recognitions of the date; the pope will make a visit, and special indulgences will be granted to visitors.
• Ma chère amie Polly-Vous Francais has led me to a site, Paris-Avant, which documents the changes in the city by contrasting old photos with new. The text is in French, but the navigation is simple. If you can read the language, however, there's great amount of history to be found. Following are some shots of the Rue Jacob, which I hope the site's owner will forgive me for publishing. (My intentions are honorable: go to the site!)

There will be nombrilisme*

Patching together a post out of odds and ends. Look for thematic connections only at your peril.

• Sarko's work ethic. After rallying the troops during his election campaign with declarations that France needs to devote itself to hard work, it does seem as if the omnipresident has lost his way, doesn't it? I suppose if you want to become a jet setter, the French presidency is as good a platform as any.
• French soap. So I said to myself this morning, what haven't you written about? And I responded, "Soap." Easier said than done. To be continued...
• Reading the dictionary. My favorite on-line French-English dictionary is WordReference.com. Beyond its functionality,the word forums are a fun spot to linger and get help if you need help with translating.
• Montpelier. A brief visitors' guide, courtesy of The Telegraph. I couldn't get too excited about the article, but someone out there may find it useful.
• Gay, American, living in Toulouse? That would be CyberFrance.
• By the way. Anyone know anything about French soap? Other than L'Occitane?
• "I got carried away." That's my favorite (alleged) quote (as reported by The Daily Record) from Jérôme Kerviel, the Soc Gen trader whose deals at one point may have exceeded the entire worth of the bank. You know how these things are.
• You can take the boy out of Utah. Mitt Romney couldn't leave the presidential race without one last swipe at the French. (HT Miquelon.)
• Well, Mitt Romney isn't doing anything these days. A British poet, a candidate for membership in the prestigious l'Académie française, failed to get the required number of votes. But so did everyone else who was up for election. (BBC & Le Figaro.)
• Ending on a positive note: 100,000. The French Journal had its 100,000th hit last night, probably around 8:00 PM. I had intended to celebrate but missed the event. Whoever you were, I love you.

* = Navel gazing.

Five "intriguing" French castles

France is lousy with chateaux, and while it's probably an exaggeration to say that most of them are a worth a visit, they nonetheless enrich the patrimoine enormously. Since seeing them all would be a formidable task, for our Monday morning escape we'll just go to five of them, chosen by France Magazine for their mysterious, or notorious, pasts. They include:

• Château d’If - Prisons don't get too much bleaker than this, where you could be dropped into a hole that was accessible only through an opening in the roof. Located off Marseille, it's claim to fame is that it held the fictional Count of Monte Cristo -- the only person to escape its horrors.
• Montségur - The site of a massacre in the thirteenth century, when 200 Cathars were martyred for their beliefs.
• Rennes-le-Château - A modern day mystery (or is it)? The puzzle: how did a priest in the late 19th century, serving the poor parish where the chateau is located, get the funds necessary to restore it magnificently? Was it hidden treasure? Or a lot of hooey? (There's a video visit to the chateau at the top of this post.)
• The Château at Lacoste is the home of the famed Marquis de Sade. (You've been very bad lately, haven't you? And you know what happens to people who've been bad...)
• The Castle at Tiffauges once claimed Gilles de Rais as a resident, a rouge who inspired the story  of Bluebeard.

In retrospect, these stories make for a grim way to start the week, but given my home team's loss in the Super Bowl last night, grimness is appropriate.

Twice-told tales: Cassoulet, Armagnac, Tati, No smoking, the Sarko show

For the weekend, I have a bunch of articles which cover subjects of past posts. In other words, old topics, new articles:

• On the road in search of cassoulet. Time offers a story about the history of the hearty French dish, cassoulet, made of beans, pork, duck, and whatever local tradition holds. The prize quote: "When a cassoulet arrives at the table, bubbling with aromas, something magical happens — it's Communion around a dish." For the devoted, there's even a Route de Cassoulets.
• Armagnac, Part II. The NY Times visits a producer of Armagnac, the French brandy that lives in Cognac's shadow. The difference? "If Cognac is feminine...Armagnac is masculine, dense, powerful, individualistic, reeking of terroir." Connections: The Darroze family, the producers profiled in the piece, also claims famed Parisian chef Hélène as one of their own.
• Tati the dancer. Also from The NYT: A "Dance of Film" festival is the pretext for an examination from a different vantage of Jacques Tati, the French film comic whose acting was largely non-verbal. The reason to consider his work "choreographic"? He used movement expressively.
• Defense de fumer: As far as the world is concerned, the biggest news from France this week is that smoking in cafés is now verboten. Here's a sample story, this one from Business Week. There are hundreds of others.
• Nic + Carla, BFF. Second runner up: 'kozy's romance. Charles Bremner has the latest in his Times (London) blog, along with news of a recent book about last year's election, one which highlights how much Chirac and de Villepin loathed Sarkozy. There seems to be a new "sensational" book like this every month -- Reza, Royal, La femme fatale, Jospin, Eric Besson...who says the French don't like political gossip?

Spirits#3: Post-prandial sips of Calvados, Cognac, and Armagnac

For our final round, what's better than a French brandy? Forgive the coarse over-simplification of that designation. As an antidote, Anthony Peregrine of The Telegraph (U.K.) offers this tour of three areas where distilled spirits are made in France:

• Calvados: Made in Normandy, "(i)t is the best thing you can do with the fruit by a country mile. It bestows a glow, and is also good for you. One glassful contains seven apples; consistent drinking will keep the medical corps at bay indefinitely."
• Cognac: "The four major companies - Hennessy, Courvoisier, Rémy Martin, Martell ...control 80 per cent of production...The French drink less than five per cent of Cognac produced. Ponder this over an XO after dinner. Then pick up the tab, and you will understand why." This section contains the informational nugget that Dutch traders called the drink "brandwijn" (burned wine), which English-speakers converted into "brandy."
• Armagnac: "Armagnac is, like Cognac, a grape spirit, but it is distilled once in a single, continuous process, as opposed to Cognac's double distillation. People say this gives it a down-home, rustic flavour, in contrast to Cognac's "superbness". But the claim is out of date...Even Russians don't pay £6,000 for "down-home rustic."

Travel information abounds. 

Smitten with Toulouse

I know that's it's Monday -- and my head is on backwards -- when I ponder whether I can write about Cambodia and convince my readers that it's part of the Languedoc. Luckily, I came to my senses when I found this love letter to the city of Toulouse in the Sydney Morning Herald. The opening lines, about the smells of fresh baked bread, perked me up immediately; the sense of the town as a lively combination of history, industry, and academia kept me reading. Did you know that Toulouse is the fastest growing city in France? Did you know that its characteristic rose-colored brick was mandated in the 15th century after a major fire burned down the city's wooden structures? Did you know that the the famous Angkor temples punctuate the landscape? (Actually, that last bit is about Cambodia...forget it.)

(The picture is The Saint-Sernin basilica, the largest romanesque church in Western Europe, by Heidi Vega Aimonetti, http://flickr.com/photos/heidiandmatt/143590612.)

Two views of hiking the Pyrénées

While traveling on foot is a popular way to see France, I have my doubts about my ability to handle the rigors of trekking through the Pyrénées, and two recent articles do little to reassure me that I'm up to the challenge.

First up, from The Sydney Morning Herald, a sole Australian hikes and climbs the Pyrénées as part of group of a dozen people, and he finds the journey spectacular and manageable, even though the trail is graded as "rough" and most of the travelers are middle-aged. It's a well-organized expedition, with stops at clean, low-cost refuges which serve the kind of hearty comfort food that one craves after spending a day on the mountainside. Parts of the journey sound lovely, but the last stop at Lourdes in hope of pain relief wasn't an encouraging signal.

Another brave soul, Simon Calder, who writes for The Independent (U.K.), tells a similar story of walking through a different stretch of the lower Pyrénées with a pal. At least, friendship is part of the initial presentation, yet the two regularly engage in faulting one another for the missteps along the way, and this traveler's tale is more about one-upmanship than sightseeing or comraderie. Whether you take it as humorous or nasty, you're unlikely to be enticed to follow in their footsteps.

Aveyron

Travel + Leisure is, for me, that most treasured of publications: the kind that makes its articles available on the web. This month, Marcelle Clements drives through le département de L'Aveyron, in the Midi-Pyrénées, a place not often visited, even by the French. She finds there "stunning, geographically diverse countryside -- much of it unspoiled." Of particular note:

• Rodez, the capital, with the Musée Fenaille and its collection of fossils and artifacts, some of which go back hundreds of thousands of years.
• The three star restaurant of Michel Bras, where she samples gargouillou, a dish made from over fifty vegetables.
• Conques, the village which houses the abbey of Sainte Foy, a stop on ancient pilgrimage routes which evokes the aura of the past,
• Millau, a highlight being "a bloodcurdling drive on the road above the gorges of the Tarn River...This is a landscape so exciting and crazy it evokes emotions verging on the operatic."

A recurring theme: 10 of the official "most beautiful villages in France" are in Aveyron, some of which Clements "guiltily" drives past in her need to get to a destination, others where she stops and worries about a foreign invasion. And in the end, there's this:

"It really doesn't matter where you begin or end your journey. What matters is the waterfall or the Gothic monastery; the 2,000-year-old bridge or the megalithic tomb where two dusty roads meet; the moment when, at the top of a deserted mountain road, there's a shack with a sign reading Chez Pierre...You eat side by side with mountain climbers, medievalists, and botanists, and maybe a few glam cosmopolites who stay at the table and talk until very late, drinking local wine. Sometimes laughter drifts up from the river. Sometimes, as if by plan, the diners pause in their various conversations and gaze out at the mountaintops, or down into the irresistible void."

Lovely, n'est-ce pas?