24 May 2010
Vide-Grenier and Accidental Tourism
We forgot to take pictures at the vide-grenier. Well, it's exactly like any flea market in the States..full of junk. With a few treasures far and few between. Ien calls them the bbt (bits of broken toys). I managed to find sheets though for our next place..all six for 20 E, saving us a total of 100E to rent them from the guy in Banyuls. Ruby found some white Converse for 5E...not bad. And Moss found..yes..Luke Skywalker. This was a pretty fast trip because there really was a lot of junk. However, if one were wanting to fit out a gite or something, it'd be a great place to go.
Hint*: bring your own toilet paper into toilettes publiques. There ain't any.
After a bit of wandering, we stumbled to the edge of a cliff, as we are wont to do, and below lay our beautiful city. Really, it looks like Minas Tirith or something. Back to the car so we could race down the windy one-car wide switchbacks to the bottom of the gorge. Car after car after tour bus was ahead of us, then straight on the main gate..pedestrians only.
So we decided, given the complement of the car, time of day and availability of 15 minute rations (and the throngs of people), to go on. However, we found a field right around the corner which afforded a tremendous view of the city from below.
On we drove with the oft repeated (four different voices) "Are we going home now?" to Gourdon, which is on the way home, actually. It is positively charming and everything was positively closed because it was...just before 2pm.
We will go back tomorrow I think. What we didn't realize until later was that Gourdon, too, is perched, teetering on the edge of this same deep gorge. Jason kept offering to pull over to let me take a picture and we'd all scream, "No!!!!!!!!!!!"
We got home and the day was very hot. So we swam or lay in the shade, dribbling around. Finally, we got into the kitchen because we were to have a barbeque with Ian and Ien and their friend Julia. Rubes and I managed to wrestle the famous Julia Child chocolate cake from the dishes we had. I actually beat egg whites and cream into stiff peaks with my whisk. This, for me, is very satisfying and I didn't break my arm like I thought. It must be France, I thought. The French eggs, the French cream, the French air. Anyway......
Things started off with some fabulous foie gras brought by our hosts. I cannot rember the French word for one, but basically it means scrapings, or bits. This could be scary, but it was so delicious and tasted like pan scrapings after you cook chicken or sausage. We had a great dinner (chicken kabobs and both duck and chorizo sausages) with lots and lots of conversations and wine and great food. Good company.
Julia leads a great sort of bohemian life. She's from Maryland but has lived in England for the last 40 years. A textile artist, she just arrived from a Greek island where she rented a space for a month. Lucky. She was very interested in Ruby's art, especially photography, and promised to put her in touch with her friend, Max Adelman. (look him up).
We were up late so, sorry, I was on vacation.