Arise children of the fatherland, the day of glory has arrived!
Well I'm certainly not pledging my allegiance to France by any means. Considering I've only stayed in one town with one family, my experience is a pretty limited view of the country as a whole.
But damn-sam, I like France.
The last four days have been real dream-like, an exploration into family, food, tradition and just good ol' hospitality and love. I've been in the thick of it. Matilde was a friend of mine from University, always putting up with me giving her my best french accent when asking how she was whenever we crossed paths. I have been so lucky to have connected with her over here because as a traveler in a foreign land one seeks out authenticity in whatever from it can be found. And if authenticity was a body of water then Thursday morning I certainly jumped far off the dock.
Wednesday night I got as far as Hendaya, North of Irùn, which I still haven't found out if it is Spain or France. I found a great Basque hotel yet kicked myself for a while after finding out there was a beach to be slept on, but you can't beat a warm shower and it was certainly easier to be motivated at 4 a.m. in a bed and warm room then in a sleeping bag and freezing beach. The train rides were silly, I can't decide if in the future I should buy a ticket or just get on with my Eurrail pass because both have worked thus far.
I rolled into La Rochelle, got a hold of Matilde to learn that she was about to take her grandmother to mass as it was the Celebration of the Ascension that day. Europe has holidays every single week of the year, and this meant all of Matilde's family was in town. I held it down by walking to a Patisserie and getting myself a Croqùe Monsuer, sat by the ship yard and watched sailors start their spring ship and sail clean up. Matilde met me back at the station, where all was smiles, bisous and nostalgia.
Matilde's family is beyond great. She has 4 siblings, 3 of whom were present this weekend, and a lovely pair of folks. There's the youngest Alix, who when she's not eating or pretending is hard to pull away from her newly consumed book. Then Genvive who is in that awkward 13 year old dizzy, but always has a braces filled smile on. François-Marie is such a brother either being serious or making fun of something or someone, but has a good heart. Matilde's mom has taught me the grace of how much easier it is to understand a foreign language if speech is slowed and enunciated, and all the while has fed me hands down best food on my journey. The craft that Matilde's pop has put into the house is only extenuated by the piano that he plays almost like a coveted chore that needs to be done in the passing free moments of the day. They live next to Matilde's grand-mére, who's 18th century home has an aesthetic that I could only dream of living in one day. One of Matilde's Aunts is an artist living in the house and has focused on it as her piece de resistance. Today as we all sat in it's backyard garden I found myself fixed on grand-mére's hands as she husked white asparagus that had been picked only minutes before. The family has lived in their village of Thairé for more generations than I can trace in my own lineage. All are warm, open, and I know for a fact that if every American had the opportunity to stay with them then Yankee's would never have any "Freedom-Fries" B.s. again.
Accordingly...
French food. In theory it was my favorite genre, but now it is written in stone on a mountain somewhere in my heart. In this home food is easy. The guest is served first, there's always more but you never fill yourself to the brim like I so often do in the States. In a phrase it is all wholesomely delicious.
My first lunch was steamed sausage and potatoes with sour kraut and real seeded mustard. That night's dinner was freshly caught Gray Snapper, which was served completely whole. I followed Matilde's lead with the removal of the head and spine then patted myself on the back for not letting the occasional scale bother me. The best fish I've ever eaten. Meals in the evening start with snacks and aperitifs and most end with two desserts, cheese and then som
ething sweet. I was racked with fear that I was not going to be able to handle the cheese because day one I got a pretty bad stomach ache that only got worse after I had eaten some lovely Gruyere. I willed myself better that night and have been horsing down the stinkiest, ripe and delicious morsels that I can eat without looking too much like a pig ever since. A barnyard animal I am.
All the meals are very fresh, simple, yet diverse in having every element of healthy whole nutrition if one where to look at it that way. In it's simplicity lies it's beautiful flavor and leaving the dining table satisfied would be a one dimensional angle as to understanding what kind of endorphins fill and flow through my body afterwards.
Family and food. All this talk about it makes a little part of me want to come home, invite everyone reading this over (
all of you being my family) and spend a whole day together playing, talking and laughing about life and share the most human practice in the world, eating with one another. Though folks, I'm gonna to keep going. All this is getting me quite excited to return to my second home, which is coming up this Wednesday. I will be flying back to South Africa into the loving arms of my host family, the Guthries, only to guess that I will be met with a long awaited braai. I have been dreaming of a braai for 7 years now.
Tomorrow I will hop in a car with Matilde along with her Aunt and little cousins, and head up the road to Paris. I'm skipping the 'City of Love' this time around, I shorted myself with time. Besides I look forward to yet another reunion set this time in Belgium, with a old friend whom I consider to be my sister seperated at birth by the name of Maud.
I'll post some photos soon of my dream home in Thairé soon enough.
All my best, foodies and geographers!
