This morning: picked strawberries.
This afternoon: ate strawberry jam made from said strawberries.
(I'm back on the farm, if that wasn't clear...)
Friday, May 27, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Week with the Fam
Trains provide the perfect situation for blog-writing. Not only are they relatively long, providing me with plenty of writing time, but they nicely divide different parts of my trip.
So, at the moment I'm headed back to the farm, having spent the last 8 days or so with my parents. Definitely a fun time; spent maximum 2 nights at each destination, a combination of small towns and (at the end) a big city (Toulouse). Highlights were the caves with wall paintings/ carvings that are relatively well-known in the region. I'm not sure why, but we were really taken with some of them, especially the paintings. I guess the idea of being in the same spot where someone, 20-25,000 years ago, was painting, and seeing their work, has a certain je-ne-sais-quoi about it. (We didn't go to the most famous cave, Lascaux, because it has recently (in the past few years, I believe) been closed to visitors due to degradation of the works; there is a replica you can go to, which apparently is very well done, it seems like it just wouldn't at all be the same). Our favorite was Pech-Merle; you'll have to Google search for pictures, because in all the caves photography was strictly forbidden. (They gave varying reasons for this, but I suspect it's a) because they are worried about flashes, and b) they want to control the sale of images of the caves).
Another highlight was the fact that my parents had rented a car, so we got to pass through these tiny villages between destinations. Each one has a little church (sometimes slightly bigger churches), each one has stone houses, and each one feels so typically European. It was nice to discover that there are still so many places like that. And for both my mom and me, it was our first time getting a taste of France outside of the major destinations (with the exception of the farms I've been on so far). I wonder what I would discover by driving on non-highways around the United States.
We spent one day and night at Domme, which is a small, walled town at the top of what's basically an isolated foothill- I don't know what its geological origins are, but it provides a remarkable view of the countryside (with the Dordogne River flowing right by it). I really need to start posting some pictures- descriptions of places like this really aren't sufficient. But it was definitely one of the more beautiful views I've seen in France, especially the morning of the second day, when we could see the thick fog covering the countryside well below us.
We also spent 3 nights at a B&B near Rocamadour, run by a really nice British couple. And they have an option for eating there, which we did all three nights- full meal (appetizer, entree, cheese, dessert, wine) prepared by them. They usually do meat-based dishes, but managed to cope with my mom's and my dietary restrictions.
Last two nights were in Toulouse, which I might try to return to someday (not this trip, but... someday). The nightlife is really vibrant, varied, and with lots of people about my age, it seems (I walked around the city one of the nights; didn't do much, as I'm not a fan of going to bars/ clubs on my own, but with someone else I think it could be really great).
And of course, we did a good amount of shopping (got a some new clothes... I can't resist doing so when I'm in France, and especially not if I'm being encouraged by my mom) and ate lots of good food.
So, at the moment I'm headed back to the farm, having spent the last 8 days or so with my parents. Definitely a fun time; spent maximum 2 nights at each destination, a combination of small towns and (at the end) a big city (Toulouse). Highlights were the caves with wall paintings/ carvings that are relatively well-known in the region. I'm not sure why, but we were really taken with some of them, especially the paintings. I guess the idea of being in the same spot where someone, 20-25,000 years ago, was painting, and seeing their work, has a certain je-ne-sais-quoi about it. (We didn't go to the most famous cave, Lascaux, because it has recently (in the past few years, I believe) been closed to visitors due to degradation of the works; there is a replica you can go to, which apparently is very well done, it seems like it just wouldn't at all be the same). Our favorite was Pech-Merle; you'll have to Google search for pictures, because in all the caves photography was strictly forbidden. (They gave varying reasons for this, but I suspect it's a) because they are worried about flashes, and b) they want to control the sale of images of the caves).
Another highlight was the fact that my parents had rented a car, so we got to pass through these tiny villages between destinations. Each one has a little church (sometimes slightly bigger churches), each one has stone houses, and each one feels so typically European. It was nice to discover that there are still so many places like that. And for both my mom and me, it was our first time getting a taste of France outside of the major destinations (with the exception of the farms I've been on so far). I wonder what I would discover by driving on non-highways around the United States.
We spent one day and night at Domme, which is a small, walled town at the top of what's basically an isolated foothill- I don't know what its geological origins are, but it provides a remarkable view of the countryside (with the Dordogne River flowing right by it). I really need to start posting some pictures- descriptions of places like this really aren't sufficient. But it was definitely one of the more beautiful views I've seen in France, especially the morning of the second day, when we could see the thick fog covering the countryside well below us.
We also spent 3 nights at a B&B near Rocamadour, run by a really nice British couple. And they have an option for eating there, which we did all three nights- full meal (appetizer, entree, cheese, dessert, wine) prepared by them. They usually do meat-based dishes, but managed to cope with my mom's and my dietary restrictions.
Last two nights were in Toulouse, which I might try to return to someday (not this trip, but... someday). The nightlife is really vibrant, varied, and with lots of people about my age, it seems (I walked around the city one of the nights; didn't do much, as I'm not a fan of going to bars/ clubs on my own, but with someone else I think it could be really great).
And of course, we did a good amount of shopping (got a some new clothes... I can't resist doing so when I'm in France, and especially not if I'm being encouraged by my mom) and ate lots of good food.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Encounters
There are certainly some interesting people in the world.
Two nights ago, a guy stopped by the house for dinner that Vincent had met earlier that day; he's one of those people you can bring gold/ coins/ precious stones to, and he'll (possibly) buy them from you). (Tom and Léo brought some things they had and ended up with about 150 euros each- not too bad (though who knows whether it was actually worth more)). Apparently Vincent chatted with him, found out he would be passing by the house on his way to his next destination, and invited him to stop by. And this is one of those guys who likes to talk and likes to tell stories; fortunately, he's also one of those people who is fun to listen to. So, apparently he was in the army when he was young; since then, he worked as head of security for Jacques Cousteau for 11 years (apparently Cousteau's boat would sometimes be attacked, since I guess on some of his dives he ended up with some pretty valuable things); he also has spent long periods of time in South America, both traveling and looking for gold. Basically, his life has been ridiculous and awesome. Most of the stories he told seemed more or less genuine; some had the aura of myths about them (like the story about his friend, who was working on a boat for some scientists; apparently they lowered a giant metal cage with meat in it into a trench in the ocean; when they pulled it up (and this happened multiple times) the bars of the cage were all twisted and destroyed; apparently one time, a foot-long tooth was also embedded in the metal of the cage).
Then there's Vincent's good friend Hervé, who lives (for the moment) nearby. It's clear these two guys are cut from the same cloth; travelers/ adventurers (Hervé once spent 2 years in a Moroccan prison); genuine (such that if they're displeased with something, you'll find out- this hasn't happened firsthand, but I've heard enough stories from Vincent to understand that it's the case). And apparently, they both performed in the past; Hervé apparently was a professional dancer in the Opera (and I don't know if I mentioned this, but Vincent once spent 6 months traveling up the coast of Italy with a friend, paying for his entire trip by being a street performer as one of those robot mimes).
Speaking of Vincent, some more about this guy. It's clear (and he states this himself) that the life he's lived is a world apart from one like mine. Didn't go to college, left his family when he was about 16, spent many years herding sheep up and down the Alps, traveled around alone and eventually with Véronique and his sons (it's only the last 3 years that they've been "permanently" settled. And now, he runs a farm in a small valley in France!
In terms of interesting people, I also had my first-ever encounter with Jehovah's Witnesses yesterday. I was in the living room, and I heard a knock that I thought was from Véronique upstairs. Then I heard her calling out to me softly; I went to the base of the stairs where she whispered down to me "Tell them I'm not here!" Momentarily confused, I realized that there were two people at the door. I proceeded to talk to them for about 15-20 minutes. They seemed nice (it was an older woman and and older man; the man dominated the conversation, however); interested in why I was in France and how I had come to the Valley of the Desges (the small river that runs through the property), which he referred to as one of the most hidden corners of France; and relatively intelligent. What bothered me was that while we were having a nice chat in French about the area and my travels, I knew it was eventually going to turn to religious proselytizing. Which of course it did, but from an interesting perspective; he read several passages from the Bible but phrased them in terms of environmental ideas, which was a relatively new thing for me in terms of religious ideology.
One good thing that did come about (besides the ability to practice my French) was that the conversation made me think about what my response would be in the future to his question, "Are you a believer?" ("Est-ce que vous êtes croyant?") I hemmed and hawwed and he didn't wait for more than that. But I now have a response that I feel good about. (Not sure this is the right medium to explain my religious and spiritual beliefs, however).
Yesterday we moved the sheep again, from where they had been pastured up by the nearby village of Pébrac to a lower field near Hervé's house. As before, I was in charge of bringing up the rear (last time, it was me at the back with Gaia, the dog, and Vincent following in the car and shouting instructions to Gaia out the window). However, this time Vincent had to take a different route, so it was going to be just me at the back. Didn't start out great- one thing that I absolutely had to make sure of was that Gaia didn't run to the front of the herd, because if she did so the sheep would scare and either turn around or leave the route they were supposed to be following. About 2 minutes in 3, 3 sheep went to the left of a fence, and I had to get them to go on the right side of it; while I was doing that, Gaia ran to the front. Wasn't much of a problem until we got to one of the lower fields; the sheep were supposed to consider straight on, but they went right into a field (apparently the same thing that had happened last year). Part of the problem was apparently that they were quite hungry (having stayed at the previous pasture a bit too long), so any time they saw a nice field with long grass, they went right for it. Eventually, Vincent showed up, and he, Gaia and I managed to get the sheep out of the field and back on the path. Things were going well again when one of the sheep saw another field and jumped over a barbed wire fence to get to it.
This demonstrated well the widely-held idea that sheep will follow each other blindly. I knew of this stereotype (if one can call it that), but I had never really seen it in action before coming to La Combe des Saveurs. It's really fascinating- along the route to the lower pasture, sheep would stop along the side to nibble at grass; however, as soon as they perceived that most of the herd was passing them, they would run to rejoin it. And Véro and Vincent told me about one time when they had a large herd (on the order of 1 or 2 thousand) in the Alps; there was a cliff, and one sheep spooked and ran off it- and about 300 followed before they were able to head them off. It's clearly something hardwired into their biology, the importance of staying with the herd. And if one gets separated- especially if it's a lamb- it's a huge headache to capture it again, because it will just run all over the place if it doesn't have a herd to follow.
Anyway- so the rest of the herd followed the first sheep into this field, knocking over a section of the barbed wire to get in. At this point, it was just me and Gaia at the back again (Vincent had gone to get the tractor to bring up the rear). However, I was able, with Gaia, to get the herd back onto the path on my own, and we finally made it to the lower pasture. Needless to say, I was pretty pleased with myself, and pretty exhilarated with the whole sheep-herding thing. Not that I would ever want to keep sheep myself- seems like more work than it's worth; plus I would feel bad about selling the meat, and it's even more work to keep them for sheep's milk.
As I've mentioned before, Vincent likes to talk about his life philosophies. Once, he was telling me about the virtues of being alone for long periods of time (which he of course did while working as a shepherd; there would be months at a time when the only other human contact he had was a bi-monthly decent into a small village to buy supplies). He estimates that in his 45 years, 10 of them have been spent in total solitude (I think it might be a bit less, but still clearly huge amounts of time alone). And I realized that as far as I can remember, I don't think I've ever spent even one day without communicating/ interacting with another person. Before college, I lived at home, and if I was alone in a day I still had the phone/ internet; at college, there was always someone around, and even now, traveling by myself, I'm either in a city, seeing people I know, or at a farm with the people that live at that farm. I have resolved to try to spend at least a few days totally alone (probably on some sort of camping trip) in the near future.
Speaking of things I haven't done, one thing I've realized for a while is that I've never had a real adventure. This, I think, is pretty typical, if going by my definition: for it to be a real adventure, one's life or well-being can't be totally assured. I'm not talking about super-dangerous things, but an adventure has to have much less of a support net than one is/ I am used to. An example would be backpacking through non-First-World countries. Problem is, I think it would be pretty hard for me to set out on a trip with that level of uncertainty or danger; however, the idea of living my life without ever having a real adventure, of course, is insupportable. But can you really "plan" to have an adventure? (I suppose planning one is kind of antithetical, but, as with the example above, I think it can be done). And an unplanned adventure, even if it's more genuine, is probably more dangerous too. We'll have to see what life serves up, and maybe shake things up a bit if it doesn't look like adventure is on the menu. (That metaphor didn't really work as well as I wanted it to. I was also trying to work in something about "spicing up the stew." I'll work on it).
About to arrive in Bordeaux to travel around with my parents for about a week, then back to the farm (as I said to Véro and Vincent, I'm quite glad I'm going back, otherwise the last few days would have been really sad! This way, I don't have to think about leaving the farm for good until after I see my parents).
Two nights ago, a guy stopped by the house for dinner that Vincent had met earlier that day; he's one of those people you can bring gold/ coins/ precious stones to, and he'll (possibly) buy them from you). (Tom and Léo brought some things they had and ended up with about 150 euros each- not too bad (though who knows whether it was actually worth more)). Apparently Vincent chatted with him, found out he would be passing by the house on his way to his next destination, and invited him to stop by. And this is one of those guys who likes to talk and likes to tell stories; fortunately, he's also one of those people who is fun to listen to. So, apparently he was in the army when he was young; since then, he worked as head of security for Jacques Cousteau for 11 years (apparently Cousteau's boat would sometimes be attacked, since I guess on some of his dives he ended up with some pretty valuable things); he also has spent long periods of time in South America, both traveling and looking for gold. Basically, his life has been ridiculous and awesome. Most of the stories he told seemed more or less genuine; some had the aura of myths about them (like the story about his friend, who was working on a boat for some scientists; apparently they lowered a giant metal cage with meat in it into a trench in the ocean; when they pulled it up (and this happened multiple times) the bars of the cage were all twisted and destroyed; apparently one time, a foot-long tooth was also embedded in the metal of the cage).
Then there's Vincent's good friend Hervé, who lives (for the moment) nearby. It's clear these two guys are cut from the same cloth; travelers/ adventurers (Hervé once spent 2 years in a Moroccan prison); genuine (such that if they're displeased with something, you'll find out- this hasn't happened firsthand, but I've heard enough stories from Vincent to understand that it's the case). And apparently, they both performed in the past; Hervé apparently was a professional dancer in the Opera (and I don't know if I mentioned this, but Vincent once spent 6 months traveling up the coast of Italy with a friend, paying for his entire trip by being a street performer as one of those robot mimes).
Speaking of Vincent, some more about this guy. It's clear (and he states this himself) that the life he's lived is a world apart from one like mine. Didn't go to college, left his family when he was about 16, spent many years herding sheep up and down the Alps, traveled around alone and eventually with Véronique and his sons (it's only the last 3 years that they've been "permanently" settled. And now, he runs a farm in a small valley in France!
In terms of interesting people, I also had my first-ever encounter with Jehovah's Witnesses yesterday. I was in the living room, and I heard a knock that I thought was from Véronique upstairs. Then I heard her calling out to me softly; I went to the base of the stairs where she whispered down to me "Tell them I'm not here!" Momentarily confused, I realized that there were two people at the door. I proceeded to talk to them for about 15-20 minutes. They seemed nice (it was an older woman and and older man; the man dominated the conversation, however); interested in why I was in France and how I had come to the Valley of the Desges (the small river that runs through the property), which he referred to as one of the most hidden corners of France; and relatively intelligent. What bothered me was that while we were having a nice chat in French about the area and my travels, I knew it was eventually going to turn to religious proselytizing. Which of course it did, but from an interesting perspective; he read several passages from the Bible but phrased them in terms of environmental ideas, which was a relatively new thing for me in terms of religious ideology.
One good thing that did come about (besides the ability to practice my French) was that the conversation made me think about what my response would be in the future to his question, "Are you a believer?" ("Est-ce que vous êtes croyant?") I hemmed and hawwed and he didn't wait for more than that. But I now have a response that I feel good about. (Not sure this is the right medium to explain my religious and spiritual beliefs, however).
Yesterday we moved the sheep again, from where they had been pastured up by the nearby village of Pébrac to a lower field near Hervé's house. As before, I was in charge of bringing up the rear (last time, it was me at the back with Gaia, the dog, and Vincent following in the car and shouting instructions to Gaia out the window). However, this time Vincent had to take a different route, so it was going to be just me at the back. Didn't start out great- one thing that I absolutely had to make sure of was that Gaia didn't run to the front of the herd, because if she did so the sheep would scare and either turn around or leave the route they were supposed to be following. About 2 minutes in 3, 3 sheep went to the left of a fence, and I had to get them to go on the right side of it; while I was doing that, Gaia ran to the front. Wasn't much of a problem until we got to one of the lower fields; the sheep were supposed to consider straight on, but they went right into a field (apparently the same thing that had happened last year). Part of the problem was apparently that they were quite hungry (having stayed at the previous pasture a bit too long), so any time they saw a nice field with long grass, they went right for it. Eventually, Vincent showed up, and he, Gaia and I managed to get the sheep out of the field and back on the path. Things were going well again when one of the sheep saw another field and jumped over a barbed wire fence to get to it.
This demonstrated well the widely-held idea that sheep will follow each other blindly. I knew of this stereotype (if one can call it that), but I had never really seen it in action before coming to La Combe des Saveurs. It's really fascinating- along the route to the lower pasture, sheep would stop along the side to nibble at grass; however, as soon as they perceived that most of the herd was passing them, they would run to rejoin it. And Véro and Vincent told me about one time when they had a large herd (on the order of 1 or 2 thousand) in the Alps; there was a cliff, and one sheep spooked and ran off it- and about 300 followed before they were able to head them off. It's clearly something hardwired into their biology, the importance of staying with the herd. And if one gets separated- especially if it's a lamb- it's a huge headache to capture it again, because it will just run all over the place if it doesn't have a herd to follow.
Anyway- so the rest of the herd followed the first sheep into this field, knocking over a section of the barbed wire to get in. At this point, it was just me and Gaia at the back again (Vincent had gone to get the tractor to bring up the rear). However, I was able, with Gaia, to get the herd back onto the path on my own, and we finally made it to the lower pasture. Needless to say, I was pretty pleased with myself, and pretty exhilarated with the whole sheep-herding thing. Not that I would ever want to keep sheep myself- seems like more work than it's worth; plus I would feel bad about selling the meat, and it's even more work to keep them for sheep's milk.
As I've mentioned before, Vincent likes to talk about his life philosophies. Once, he was telling me about the virtues of being alone for long periods of time (which he of course did while working as a shepherd; there would be months at a time when the only other human contact he had was a bi-monthly decent into a small village to buy supplies). He estimates that in his 45 years, 10 of them have been spent in total solitude (I think it might be a bit less, but still clearly huge amounts of time alone). And I realized that as far as I can remember, I don't think I've ever spent even one day without communicating/ interacting with another person. Before college, I lived at home, and if I was alone in a day I still had the phone/ internet; at college, there was always someone around, and even now, traveling by myself, I'm either in a city, seeing people I know, or at a farm with the people that live at that farm. I have resolved to try to spend at least a few days totally alone (probably on some sort of camping trip) in the near future.
Speaking of things I haven't done, one thing I've realized for a while is that I've never had a real adventure. This, I think, is pretty typical, if going by my definition: for it to be a real adventure, one's life or well-being can't be totally assured. I'm not talking about super-dangerous things, but an adventure has to have much less of a support net than one is/ I am used to. An example would be backpacking through non-First-World countries. Problem is, I think it would be pretty hard for me to set out on a trip with that level of uncertainty or danger; however, the idea of living my life without ever having a real adventure, of course, is insupportable. But can you really "plan" to have an adventure? (I suppose planning one is kind of antithetical, but, as with the example above, I think it can be done). And an unplanned adventure, even if it's more genuine, is probably more dangerous too. We'll have to see what life serves up, and maybe shake things up a bit if it doesn't look like adventure is on the menu. (That metaphor didn't really work as well as I wanted it to. I was also trying to work in something about "spicing up the stew." I'll work on it).
About to arrive in Bordeaux to travel around with my parents for about a week, then back to the farm (as I said to Véro and Vincent, I'm quite glad I'm going back, otherwise the last few days would have been really sad! This way, I don't have to think about leaving the farm for good until after I see my parents).
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
New experiences
New experiences of the day:
1. Eating battered, fried acacia flowers
2. Herding sheep half a mile up the road to their new grazing area.
1. Eating battered, fried acacia flowers
2. Herding sheep half a mile up the road to their new grazing area.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Cooking!
So, one of the "traditions" at this farm is that each WWOOFer cooks a meal for the family while they are here. Elly cooked the last night shttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifhe was here, so I got to have some as well- it was ravioli (I helped make each little ravioli "pouch"), and it was ridiculously good; they were filled with either mushrooms and cheese or broccoli and cheeshttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gife, http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifand they had a white cream sauce.
I cooked last night; I decided to make the lentil daal that I had made at the first farm (but this time with the experience of the first time, which made a significant difference). I used this recipe but tried to add extra garlic, ginger, and spices. I also made raita (recipe) two nights earlier to go along with it, as well as naan (recipe).
Verdict: success. Everyone seemed to like it, and everyone ate a lot (even the kids! Well, they didn't eat a lot, but they finished what they had on their plates, which they don't always do) which is the real test of how good a dish is. I have to say, I was also really pleased. The daal was nicely spiced; the raita was tasty and went well with the daal, and the naan was not only super simple to make, but honestly really good! The daal seemed to me like it lacked a bit of sweetness; next time I might try to caramalize the onions a bit more. I think adding a bit more tomato paste (based on how much I made, I don't think I added enough) as well as even more ginger and garlic (really, can you ever have enough?) and it will even more delicious. Cooking is fun! Who knew!
I leave in 4 days to meet up with my parents; so glad I'm coming back afterwards, or else I would start to be sad. I also bought my ticket to go to London (leaving from this farm on June 2nd), and switched my plane ticket to July 6 from Paris (still Business Class, yes!) Should probably start looking at farms in the UK (and figuring out the best way to get around). I'm torn between wanting to go to Ireland, and wanting to stay in England or Scotland due to relative ease of transportation. But... Guinness! We will see.
I cooked last night; I decided to make the lentil daal that I had made at the first farm (but this time with the experience of the first time, which made a significant difference). I used this recipe but tried to add extra garlic, ginger, and spices. I also made raita (recipe) two nights earlier to go along with it, as well as naan (recipe).
Verdict: success. Everyone seemed to like it, and everyone ate a lot (even the kids! Well, they didn't eat a lot, but they finished what they had on their plates, which they don't always do) which is the real test of how good a dish is. I have to say, I was also really pleased. The daal was nicely spiced; the raita was tasty and went well with the daal, and the naan was not only super simple to make, but honestly really good! The daal seemed to me like it lacked a bit of sweetness; next time I might try to caramalize the onions a bit more. I think adding a bit more tomato paste (based on how much I made, I don't think I added enough) as well as even more ginger and garlic (really, can you ever have enough?) and it will even more delicious. Cooking is fun! Who knew!
I leave in 4 days to meet up with my parents; so glad I'm coming back afterwards, or else I would start to be sad. I also bought my ticket to go to London (leaving from this farm on June 2nd), and switched my plane ticket to July 6 from Paris (still Business Class, yes!) Should probably start looking at farms in the UK (and figuring out the best way to get around). I'm torn between wanting to go to Ireland, and wanting to stay in England or Scotland due to relative ease of transportation. But... Guinness! We will see.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
More about the farm
Still super happy here. So much so, that I am indeed coming back for about 10 days after I see my parents for a week. As I explained earlier, I only had about that much time between seeing my parents and heading over to the UK; it didn't really seem like enough time to go to a new farm (as soon as I would start feeling really settled in, it would be time to leave) so I am very pleased it has worked out so well here.
So, some more about the farm. Their main product is actually sheep- they raise lambs and sell them for meat at the end of the summer. But I haven't really done anything with the sheep; apparently I got here a few days after Elly helped clip all their hooves (which involved picking up each of them), move them to the hillside, and clean out their barn. But I get to help move them to a new grazing area tomorrow, which should be fun, and is apparently in an even more beautiful area. I also helped with the shearing yesterday- didn't too too much, just picked up the sheared wool and put it into sacks. But the wool was a lot softer and less scratchy than I had imagined it would be based on my experience with wool sweaters; it was also pretty cool to be holding wool that was so "fresh" it was still warm from the sheep that it had previously been attached to.
Véronique and Viencent also produce some fruit (apples and apple juice, raspberries, strawberries), and their own honey. Of these, I have had jams made from the fruits, the apple juice, and lots and lots of honey. Véronique also makes bread every few days, which is the main constituent of the breakfasts- that, and honey.
I spend most of my time with Vincent; it seems like he does more of the farm work, while Véronique does more of the house work (as well as some farm work, of course; she also has her own garden that she is in charge of). He loves to talk about his life. Which is OK, because a) he's pretty funny and b) his life has been kind of crazy. He grew up in Belgium, but was always, as he describes it, kind of a "rock and roll rebel"; he has spent most of his life traveling around France being a shepherd (he spent many years, and met Véronique, while herding sheep up and down the mountains in the Alps). (He's also got a tattoo on his arm of "Native American style" feathers dangling from a small circle- with an Anarchist A in it). He talks a lot about solitude, and how he misses that life sometimes. Apparently he also has a bit of a reputation in this area, since he is apparently pretty blunt with people when they do things that displease him. I guess people are actually kind of afraid of him, which I find pretty amusing; he seems really nice and friendly to me, but I can see that he's the kind of guy you don't want to mess with.
I spent the day on Thursday in the city of Puy-en-Velay, as Vincent had some stuff to do so that he could get subsidy money for the farm. It's got a lot of religious monuments that are up on these giant fingers of basalt (one is a huge statue of the Virgin Mary with baby/ toddler Jesus, another is a small chapel dedicated to Saint Michael). I actually spent about an hour in the chapel; there was nice monk-chanting music on, and it was almost empty most of the time I was there (usually just one or 2 others) so it was really nice to sit quietly, and also to take a bunch of pictures as the lighting and the columns were pretty cool.
Last night the three of us shared the bottle of Verveine liqueur that I had bought in Puy-en-Velay (it's a city/ region specialty). It was fun drinking and chatting with them; as usual, Vincent dominated the conversation (which is fine, because as I said, he's quite a character).
So, some more about the farm. Their main product is actually sheep- they raise lambs and sell them for meat at the end of the summer. But I haven't really done anything with the sheep; apparently I got here a few days after Elly helped clip all their hooves (which involved picking up each of them), move them to the hillside, and clean out their barn. But I get to help move them to a new grazing area tomorrow, which should be fun, and is apparently in an even more beautiful area. I also helped with the shearing yesterday- didn't too too much, just picked up the sheared wool and put it into sacks. But the wool was a lot softer and less scratchy than I had imagined it would be based on my experience with wool sweaters; it was also pretty cool to be holding wool that was so "fresh" it was still warm from the sheep that it had previously been attached to.
Véronique and Viencent also produce some fruit (apples and apple juice, raspberries, strawberries), and their own honey. Of these, I have had jams made from the fruits, the apple juice, and lots and lots of honey. Véronique also makes bread every few days, which is the main constituent of the breakfasts- that, and honey.
I spend most of my time with Vincent; it seems like he does more of the farm work, while Véronique does more of the house work (as well as some farm work, of course; she also has her own garden that she is in charge of). He loves to talk about his life. Which is OK, because a) he's pretty funny and b) his life has been kind of crazy. He grew up in Belgium, but was always, as he describes it, kind of a "rock and roll rebel"; he has spent most of his life traveling around France being a shepherd (he spent many years, and met Véronique, while herding sheep up and down the mountains in the Alps). (He's also got a tattoo on his arm of "Native American style" feathers dangling from a small circle- with an Anarchist A in it). He talks a lot about solitude, and how he misses that life sometimes. Apparently he also has a bit of a reputation in this area, since he is apparently pretty blunt with people when they do things that displease him. I guess people are actually kind of afraid of him, which I find pretty amusing; he seems really nice and friendly to me, but I can see that he's the kind of guy you don't want to mess with.
I spent the day on Thursday in the city of Puy-en-Velay, as Vincent had some stuff to do so that he could get subsidy money for the farm. It's got a lot of religious monuments that are up on these giant fingers of basalt (one is a huge statue of the Virgin Mary with baby/ toddler Jesus, another is a small chapel dedicated to Saint Michael). I actually spent about an hour in the chapel; there was nice monk-chanting music on, and it was almost empty most of the time I was there (usually just one or 2 others) so it was really nice to sit quietly, and also to take a bunch of pictures as the lighting and the columns were pretty cool.
Last night the three of us shared the bottle of Verveine liqueur that I had bought in Puy-en-Velay (it's a city/ region specialty). It was fun drinking and chatting with them; as usual, Vincent dominated the conversation (which is fine, because as I said, he's quite a character).
Sunday, May 1, 2011
La Combe des Saveurs
Oh new farm, how do I love you? Let me list the ways...
The family. They are amazing. I felt comfortable chatting with Véronique (the mother) before we had even made it to the farm from the train station. On the way back, we picked up her kids, Leo and Tom, as well as 2 of their friends, Rémy and Yanis. The four of them (plus Rémy's brother Loic) hung out at the house a lot for the past few days (they're all on vacation; Loic and Rémy left yesterday). But the kids are fun to hang out with, joke around with, and play some Frisbee with (yes, I've been spreading the Ultimate gospel in France). Vincent, the father, is always joking around (such that I have to pay extra close attention when he's talking to figure out if I should be smiling). But Véronique and Vincent are just so relaxed about everything! They get work done, they have things to worry about, but I just feel really comfortable here. Also, for the first 3 days, another WWOOFer (an American named Elly) was here; it was nice to a) be able to talk to her about how things worked around here, and b) she was cool and friendly and fun to work with/ chat with.
The location. This place is just unbelievably beautiful. The farm is technically in a little "village" at the bend of a road, just over a small bridge with a stream/ river flowing by it (the village is made up of about 4 houses, plus a bunch of buildings belonging to the farm. But it's got it's own little signs that say Combeuil, so it's an officially designated... something). It's basically nestled in a tiny valley, foothills all around (the Massif Central is a mountainous region). And the water in the tiny river is so clear! Also, the hike I went on today was to find the ruins of an old castle; not much left, but enough walls (and a full room with an arched doorway) that you could still feel that yes, someone built this and lived in it.
The food. While I was pleased that I had to do some cooking at the first farm in terms of life experience, it did kind of stress me out- I was always worried that I would ruin the food, and then a) I would have wasted food and b) there wouldn't be anything to eat for dinner. But here, not only do Véronique and Vincent do all the cooking, but they cook delicious things- and not just for the major meals! But once in the morning, and once in the afternoon, we take breaks from the work; about half the time, Vincent or Véronique will cook something- so far, we have had crêpes (that rival those you buy in Paris) and gaufres (those sugary waffles that you can get on the slopes at ski resorts). And not just one, but really as much as you can eat! And they encourage me to keep eating, so I don't even feel bad for eating so much! Also, they have their own water source (from a spring on one of the mountains), and it's possible the best water I've ever tasted. Sorry, New York City!
The pets. Specifically, one of their 2 dogs, named Gaia. She's ridiculously full of energy (she went with me on a hike today, and was always running ahead, then stopping for a second to look back at me before continuing). Apparently I'm the first WWOOFer she's gone on a hike with, so I guess she likes me too!
As for the work, it's perhaps a little more taxing than at the first farm (mowing, weed-whacking, lifting/ moving large amounts of logs), but nothing I can't handle. Shoulder is holding up OK (hurts some during the day before it gets warmed up, hurts a bit at night) but I'm hopeful it will continue to improve. And the schedule is good- work, then a break, then work, then lunch, then work, then a break/ dinner. So I feel like I do my share, but we take breaks often enough that it doesn't feel like a lot of work.
The family. They are amazing. I felt comfortable chatting with Véronique (the mother) before we had even made it to the farm from the train station. On the way back, we picked up her kids, Leo and Tom, as well as 2 of their friends, Rémy and Yanis. The four of them (plus Rémy's brother Loic) hung out at the house a lot for the past few days (they're all on vacation; Loic and Rémy left yesterday). But the kids are fun to hang out with, joke around with, and play some Frisbee with (yes, I've been spreading the Ultimate gospel in France). Vincent, the father, is always joking around (such that I have to pay extra close attention when he's talking to figure out if I should be smiling). But Véronique and Vincent are just so relaxed about everything! They get work done, they have things to worry about, but I just feel really comfortable here. Also, for the first 3 days, another WWOOFer (an American named Elly) was here; it was nice to a) be able to talk to her about how things worked around here, and b) she was cool and friendly and fun to work with/ chat with.
The location. This place is just unbelievably beautiful. The farm is technically in a little "village" at the bend of a road, just over a small bridge with a stream/ river flowing by it (the village is made up of about 4 houses, plus a bunch of buildings belonging to the farm. But it's got it's own little signs that say Combeuil, so it's an officially designated... something). It's basically nestled in a tiny valley, foothills all around (the Massif Central is a mountainous region). And the water in the tiny river is so clear! Also, the hike I went on today was to find the ruins of an old castle; not much left, but enough walls (and a full room with an arched doorway) that you could still feel that yes, someone built this and lived in it.
The food. While I was pleased that I had to do some cooking at the first farm in terms of life experience, it did kind of stress me out- I was always worried that I would ruin the food, and then a) I would have wasted food and b) there wouldn't be anything to eat for dinner. But here, not only do Véronique and Vincent do all the cooking, but they cook delicious things- and not just for the major meals! But once in the morning, and once in the afternoon, we take breaks from the work; about half the time, Vincent or Véronique will cook something- so far, we have had crêpes (that rival those you buy in Paris) and gaufres (those sugary waffles that you can get on the slopes at ski resorts). And not just one, but really as much as you can eat! And they encourage me to keep eating, so I don't even feel bad for eating so much! Also, they have their own water source (from a spring on one of the mountains), and it's possible the best water I've ever tasted. Sorry, New York City!
The pets. Specifically, one of their 2 dogs, named Gaia. She's ridiculously full of energy (she went with me on a hike today, and was always running ahead, then stopping for a second to look back at me before continuing). Apparently I'm the first WWOOFer she's gone on a hike with, so I guess she likes me too!
As for the work, it's perhaps a little more taxing than at the first farm (mowing, weed-whacking, lifting/ moving large amounts of logs), but nothing I can't handle. Shoulder is holding up OK (hurts some during the day before it gets warmed up, hurts a bit at night) but I'm hopeful it will continue to improve. And the schedule is good- work, then a break, then work, then lunch, then work, then a break/ dinner. So I feel like I do my share, but we take breaks often enough that it doesn't feel like a lot of work.
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