Greetings From France - Part 5

Today was a transition day.

We packed up our things and left the Marriott bound for the train station in Montparnasse. Again, our luck with weather continued and we also had good traffic kharma. The president of Portugal had been in town, tieing up traffic whenever his motorcade went somewhere. We passed the George V where he was staying just prior to his gridlock-producing departure and we arrived at le gare in only a few minutes.

The train ride itself was beautiful, watching the scenery change from urban to suburban, and finally to glorious fields of green. A quick 2 and one half hours later and we were in Angouleme from where we were picking up our rental car.

Many businesses in France are closed from 12PM to 2PM for lunch - similar to the Italian siesta period. This includes the Hertz office in Angouleme. Knowing this ahead of time and not wanting to wait an hour for our car (we arrived shortly after 1PM), Peter Berczeller had called the local Hertz office a couple of weeks ago and told them that we were on a tight schedule and had to get to Riberac for a wedding. Voila, the papers were waiting for us at the hotel next door.

I don't remember whether we had reserved a compact or intermediate size car, but my elite status at Hertz gained us an upgrade to a Citroen Picasso. The Picasso is a five-seater with a large hatchback trunk and is not much smaller than our Toyota Matrix at home. We fit ourselves and all of our bags in quite easily. After about 10 minutes trying to figure out some basic necessities like how to turn on the lights and wipers, and figuring out what the warning light on the dashboard meant (Parking Brake Is On!), we took off. Bear in mind that I have not driven stick in about 20 years and we only had a couple of stall outs. By the end of the day I was much more comfortable.

Heading south, we first visited the 16th century town of Brantome. Normally crowded with tourists, we managed to hit the area during off-season and enjoyed this sleepy little town on the Drone river. It was also a challenge for my new driving skills - trying to combine getting used to stick shift with understanding French road signs, and navigating streets in towns like Brantome meant only for a horse and carriage at most. We survived.

While I could only take in the scenery when we were on a straightaway, what I did see was absolutely gorgeous. When you view the masterpieces produced by the Impressionists, this is the area that is the subject of their paintings. Even the light and the way it plays over the landscape is magnificent and reminds me of the quality of the light in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Betsy had accurately predicted that I would love it and I can understand why people eschew Paris for a trip to the French countryside only.

The next stop was Chateau de Puyguilhem. By the time we had reached there, I was tired from the stress of my new driving responsibilities and the tour was in French only, so Betsy went and I was quite content to spend a bit of time on a beautiful spring afternoon reading my book.

After the tour, we made our way towards Riberac and the home of Peter and Helen Berczeller. Located in the rolling hills outside of Riberac, their home - originally built in 1630 - has a Tuscan feel in terms of the archictecture. It is a large and beautiful home that looks like a lived-in museum. Filled with objets d'art and the things that one collects over the course of a lifetime, it is at the same time a warm and hospitable oasis. The kitchen, where we had a wonderful dinner, is my favorite room as it combines modern conveniences with a large table and fireplace that just feels like home. Betsy and I are staying in "le pigeonnier" (thanks to Sabine for the spelling correction!), a separate building in which the owners of such homes in the 16th century kept their pigeons. The larger the "pigeonnier", the more wealthy a man was presumed to be. Peter and Helen, our most excellent hosts, have turned it into a guest cottage.

There is no bathroom in the small building where we are staying and so we must walk a few feet outside into the main house to use the facilities. I had to do so in the middle of the night, but had to just stop, look, and listen when I made it into the cool night air. The sky was clear with an abundance of stars, but the most amazing thing was the silence. It was absolute. As much as I appreciated and was in awe of it, the city boy in me eventually came out and it actually made me feel slightly uncomfortable. In New York, even at 4AM with no traffic at all, there is still a palpable hum and I guess that is what I am accustomed to. I returned to bed thinking, "It's quiet. Too quiet."

More later.