Travel Tuesday: Vista House

Vista House -- as fascinating as a rest stop can get

After nearly 25 years of life in France, I still feel right at home in Olympia, where I was born and raised.

But once I leave Washington's fine capital city, even for a day, I feel like a tourist in the USA.

Last summer, my mother and I took an overnight trip to Portland and the Columbia River Gorge. As you can see, we had the grandest weather possible, and I discovered a quirky historic roadside stop: Vista House.

Roll on Columbia, roll on...

As its name implies, Vista House offers a stunning view.. 

Built by Multonomah County as a rest stop in 1917, the octagonal "comfort station" lives on, financed in part by Oregon State and in part by FOVH, or Friends of Vista House.

A long renovation, completed in 2005, restored Vista House to its former glory

I found the building and its viewpoint pretty exciting to visit in 2014. 

I can only imagine what motorists who stopped there for the grand opening in 1918, just 5 years after the completion of the Columbia River Highway, must have felt.

A video illustrates the history of this intriguing site. 

Dinner Party Day

I learned much from this type of cooking magazine, and hauled this 20-year-old issue out for yesterday's main course, Corsican veal stew with olives 

I had a farm in Africa....

Well, no. But I had a cooking blog. 

It is still floating around, bereft of its custom design and many of its photos. I'm not sure what I'll end up doing with it, but for the moment it is a nagging reminder of a time when cooking was not just something I had to do, but a true hobby.

I think I burned out, or maybe I just started working full-time plus. But cooking hasn't been any more than a duty for a while. Not an unpleasant duty, but a duty nonetheless.

Yesterday, though, I pulled out the stops and did the whole French Saturday night dinner party thing: poring over recipes Friday evening, shopping all morning on Saturday, cooking all afternoon, then sprucing up the house a bit before hosting guests from 8pm to a bit past midnight.

I get by with a little help from my friend Picard

The food and company were great, bien sûr, but I also really enjoyed the whole process. 

One fantastic new element of this whole process is that in my circles, it is now deemed legitimate to have one course of your meal come from Picard , the amazing French frozen food chain that makes so many's lives a bit easier. 

More than one Picard dish would be a bit tacky, but a lot of people turn to ami Picard for before-dinner snacks, a starter, or a dessert.   

My Picard choice was before-dinner snacks

Just put these fancy-dancy little canapés in the fridge to thaw for four hours, and voilà! Who could ask for anything more?

And who could complain about smoked salmon with savory lemon cream on a poppyseed blini?

On the left -- source for my 90s Apple Crisp recipe

On the right -- source for yesterday's Apple Crumble recipe 

When I first moved to France, I liked to surprise guests with making "American food." I must have made Betty Crocker's apple crisp recipe for every other dinner party I gave in the early-to-mid 90s -- provided I could find oatmeal, of course.

Now "crumbles" are so prevalent that I wonder if young people even know they are an Anglo specialty. I made an apple one last night, but glazed it with tangerine marmelade and crushed up Breton butter cookies for the crumbly part. 

That original take on the crumble got oohs and aahs, but (the other) Betty C.'s version would just be a standard here now.

TJ Tuesday: Private Hunting Ground

One of many ways to show the privacy of a hunting ground

Photo courtesy of Thierry Jouanneteau

Somewhere deep in the woods between the Aveyron and Gard departments, someone has staked out his -- or her -- private hunting ground. 

Hunting is practiced in our area, as it is in much of France. The first autumn that we lived in our new house, we were woken up by resounding gunshots on the morning of the "ouverture de chasse". They sounded like they were practically coming from our back yard, and my husband said anything that loud was certainly illegally close to our property. 

Perhaps we had built our house on someone's unofficial "chasse gardée."

I don't hear nearly as many gunshots anymore. Hunting season here just closed for hare and partridge, and all fall I only heard one or two shots.

I haven't read anything about it, but I imagine that hunting must be dying out here.  Like many activities that take time and patience, I'm not sure it appeals to  younger generations.

As a meat-eater, I don't pass judgment on hunters or hunting. It's not something I'd care to do, but I've had a  few opportunities to chow down on locally hunted meat, and the pleasure has been mine.

Before writing this post, I had just figured "hunting season" in France was set by national dates. Actually, it is much more complex. Hunting is regulated by each département, and the dates differ. For example, in this hunting ground that was nestled between two départements, in the Gard area they would get an extra week to hunt hare and partridge compared to Aveyron.

Dates also vary according to species. Partridge and hare can breathe more easily now in Aveyron, but fox and pheasant are fair game until the end of January.

The Gard hunting rules cite a lot more species: badgers, muskrats, coypu (?), and stone marten (?) are all regulated with specific dates. I don't know if these animals just don't exist in Aveyron, or if they are not frequent hunting prey.

In fact for the latter two, I didn't even know these animals existed at all!

Out and about, and on having free time again

My weekend companions, 2012-2014

For the past three years, most of my free time has gone into completing the Cambridge DELTA course. This advanced qualification in English Language Teaching introduced me to the great thinkers of language teaching theory, enabled me to examine my teaching practices and learn about a slew of new ones, and inspired me greatly.

It also took up a hell of a lot of time. A few carefully scheduled breaks notwithstanding, I worked on the course 10 to 20 hours per week from January 2012 until last month, when I finally finished my research paper, the daunting Module 3. And yes, I was still working full-time.

I could even go to the circus now if I wanted to!

So finally, after what seems like a lifetime of solitary Saturdays and Sundays spent reading, writing, and studying, my weekends include an incredible element again: guilt-free free time.

Now I can once again get out and about to enjoy some of the many activities going on in Aveyron, not to mention the endless possibilities for exploring the backroads.

The Trio Wanderer at the Grange de Floyrac in Onet-le-Château

It always kills me when people say there is nothing to do in or around Rodez. After living in the area for nearly 20 years, I feel like I have only scratched the surface of potential activities.  Concerts, plays, art shows, great restaurants, special exhibits...I'm always seeing publicity for events I would like to go to. 

And the past few weeks, I have been going to them. 

Last weekend, we saw the internationally known Trio Wanderer play a concert of trios by Haydn, Fauré and Brahms. Thanks to the Association du Vieux Palais, a series of top-notch classical music concerts is held in Aveyron every year. We used to go to quite a few, but that went by the wayside during my course.

The Clairvaux church ready for a benefit concert for the Téléthon

This weekend, on Friday I got together with a few expat friends to see a local village choir sing for the Téléthon. A Dutch woman we all know was performing in this festive fundraising event in the lovely Romanesque Church of St. Blaise Clairvaux.

This afternoon, we will be heading to Imaginarium, the first edition of a comics festival organized by the Cubik bookstore in Rodez. 

This new free time is a bit disconcerting and may actually take some getting used to. 

Of course, if I don't know what to do with it, I also have my blog back.   

Travel Tuesday: New York City and why I now go there

A few blocks up from my daughter's workplace

When I took a break from writing this blog in 2010, our daughters were both still ensconced in Aveyron. The eldest had started university right in Rodez, and the youngest was in the equivalent of her junior year of high school.

Through a breathtaking chain of events, after just one year of college, that youngest daughter has ended up living and working in Manhattan. She is well into her third year there, and there seems to be no turning back.

She's not in Kansas anymore.

Manhattan. Who would've thunk it? I am a Pacific Northwest gal with no New York-ish connections; I had never even set foot in New York City until a year and a half ago, when I first landed at JFK with something other than a layover in mind. 

A starkly impersonal address with a lot of "5s" in it punched into my cell phone. 

A humid yellow taxi with a grimy TV screen running the same commercials over and over. 

A "turnpike," whatever that is -- I still couldn't give you a precise definition.

I realized, arriving in New York City for the first time,  that I was really more of a foreigner there than in Paris.

Yet it so quickly felt like home.

Off the beaten track, watching autumn fade into winter

Two "animules" who were more than happy to pose 

Since my day off in late October when I decided to drive down a road seldom taken and drag my camera out of my purse, I have made several forays off the beaten track.

Last Sunday morning, a drive to the village recycling bin somehow led me to turn down side roads that I have never even thought of exploring in nearly 20 years of living in Gages.

The exploration was worth it if only for these two young donkeys who were sweet enough to be photogenic for me. 

A peek down a little-used railroad track

A couple times a day, a one-car regional train travels down this track on its way to and from Rodez and Sévérac-le-Château, about a 50-kilometer trip. I have seen the train go by and it is usually empty. There are quite a few buses that cover the same route, so I have often wondered how this particular train has managed to stay running when many other lines have been shut down. I have also often thought it would make a great commuter line.

So near, yet so far from my house

When I told my husband about where I had gone exploring, he said "Là, c'est un autre monde."  Standing alone in front of this vast field, it was hard to believe I was only a few kilometers away from housing-developed Gages-le-Haut, the part of Gages-Montrozier where we live.

A tree-lined trail for future exploration

There are lots of paths in Aveyron where one is not really sure whether they are made for driving or walking. I felt like driving down the rather wide, pebbled "road" on the left, but thought I might get into some sort of car-related trouble. So I refrained.

These photos were taken a week ago, and show some of the last vestiges of autumn color around our parts. 

TJ Tuesday 1: An agricultural tool unknown to me

Photo courtesy of Thierry Jouanneteau

I call this blog "La France Profonde," or, approximately, the heartland of France. 

But  I don't get into the heartland nearly as much as my husband, whose job leads him to visit many of Aveyron's numerous farms. 

He has travelled over backroads that I will likely never cover, and he has taken photos of places and objects that I may never see.

And he knows the name for things  that I will never be able to identify -- like this agricultural implement, for which I can't find a word in French or in English.

"Wordless Wednesdays" are nice from time to time, but I also hope to introduce "TJ Tuesdays" to share some of my husband's photos. 

Late Autumn Stroll in Bourran, Rodez, Aveyron

Most Ruthénois would not recognize this park in the Bourran business district

We have had a return of warm weather -- to my taste, a bit too warm for November. But it did allow me to get out on a late autumn walk during one of my lunch breaks last week. 

Getting away from it all only a few blocks from my workplace

I work in Bourran, the "new" business district of Rodez. It's actually not that new anymore, as I think construction started there about 20 years ago, right before I first moved to Aveyron. But at that time, it only had a few buildings. Now it is covered with businesses and apartments, and somehow more seem to crop up all the time.

There is a little haven of peace in this area that I only discovered last spring. A bit below the hospital, somebody had the wherewithal to create a nice little park. Most of my colleagues don't even know it exists. I don't know if it has a name or even when it was built, but it is a lovely place for a picnic or just to clear one's mind.

The cathedral appears as a distant detail

This view of Rodez, taken from the park,  will surely never be used on a tourists' brochure!. But it gives an interesting perspective on a city that can't be reduced to its historic sites and the new Soulages museum.

I actually quite enjoy working in Bourran, which has quite a few decent to excellent restaurants, as well as really friendly shopkeepers.

Back to work....

Pieces of Paris 2 -- Galerie du Jeu de Paume

A quick view of the Jeu de Paume Gallery as we were waiting in line, until our daughter bought tickets with her iPhone

Despite a lazy morning and having to leave Paris a bit after 2pm on Sunday, we were able to squeeze in an exhibit at the Galerie du Jeu de Paume. 

Looking up from the entrance hall

I'm a bit ashamed that I hadn't been there since its impressionist museum days, and downright embarrassed to admit I was only very vaguely aware of its tranformation into a contemporary art gallery (in 1991...cringe...)

Sunday gallery visitors heading down to the bookshop 

This place has definitely been done up right. It was a grey day, but the open spaces were still flooded with light. 

I like the idea of inventing the possible, but we didn't have time to go to the video area. I guess we weren't able to invent that possibility.

What we did get to see was this exhibit, now transferred to the Jeu de Paume, of the American photographer Garry Winogrand. 

The Met site for the show explains: "While Winogrand is widely considered one of the greatest photographers of the twentieth century, his overall body of work and influence on the field remain incompletely explored."

It has certainly been completely unexplored by me! I somehow had never heard of this most intriguing American photographer, and frankly didn't recognize any of his photos. But they were fascinating, depicting American life in New York, California and other regions in the 60s, 70s, and 80s.

Another exhibit, another discovery...

Pieces of Paris 1

Paris was looking a bit on the bland side this morning, I'm afraid

One of the reasons I cast this blog aside 4 years back was that I felt my life was increasingly happening elsewhere than in Aveyron.

One of those elsewheres has been Paris.

Exquisite Sunday morning calm today near L'Eglise de la Madeleine

I started to go up, or as they say here in Aveyron, "monter à la capitale," for work in 2008. 

Just 3 or 4 times a year for meetings: sometimes with an overnight stay in a slightly ratty hotel; sometimes doing an exhausting round trip the same day, during which my biggest "Paris experience" was a quick glance of the Arc de Triomphe as I emerged from the RER, in great need of the morning's fourth coffee.  .

La grande roue, looking less than grand under grey skies

Then in autumn 2012, our eldest daughter moved there, giving me more occasions to reconnect with Paris...plus a place to stay, which is not to be spat upon! 

From the start of my expat experience in 1990 and until 2008, I used to sorely regret not getting to Paris that often -- maybe once every two years at best.

Since 2008, it would be safe to say I have gone up at least 25 times.

But they are always short stays, giving me the impression of experiencing Paris in bits and pieces....as I did this weekend, and as I will share with you this week.

Monument aux Morts/Monument to the Dead

The Veterans' Monument -- or Monument to the Dead -- in my village

Other than the battlefields themselves, there is certainly no more sobering reminder of the great human loss that France suffered in World War One than the Monuments aux Morts that one can find in every town and village.

When the girls were younger, I used to take them to the traditional ceremony that is held around the monument on the morning of November 11th. In the mid-90s, Gages-Montrozier still had a WWI veteran who proudly attended.

At least in small towns, these ceremonies include a reading of the names of all of the dead. After each name, the attendees say "Mort pour la patrie" or "Died for his country." It is all very solemn, almost like a mass.

Then there is often some sort of gathering, for example a "vin d'honneur," or ceremonial glass of wine. This is France, after all. 

I am quite fond of our village's memorial.  The soldier is beautifully sculpted, and despite the reference to the "glorious dead," he conveys sadness and mourning rather than the glory of victory.

What is bone-chilling when visiting these monuments is how very long the WWI list is, and how many double, triple or even quadruple names you find, even in small villages.

Two "Daladoire, Falguière, Junelle"...and many more doubles.

Three "Bessière." 

Morts pour la patrie.

Intriguing finds in Gabriac, Aveyron

What is this ad for? 

Two Fridays ago, I took a much-needed day off. The weather was extraordinary, and on my way back from the market in Espalion, I took the less-travelled road home.

It's the sort of thing I used to do: get off the beaten track that, for me, consists of driving back and forth from my bedroom community to Rodez, 5 times a week for work and once or twice over the weekend.

The road less taken took me through Gabriac, a community of about 450 people that used to be a bustling crossroads town. Now it is pretty quiet; this old "Manitou" was about the only thing on the road.

Manitou -- it's a brand, but I've heard people use the word as a synonym for forklift. 

I was thinking of getting lunch, but found out that the Hôtel Bouloc, which I used to hear a lot about, is now closed -- and apparently has been for a while.

The building still proudly displays all of its "Petit Futé" recommendations, going up to about 2009, and the Petit Futé site still shows a bright, attractive establishment with a lovely pool. 

I guess Le Petit Futé needs to get back to Gabriac...as I did that morning.

The church of Gabriac, Aveyron

L'Eglise de Gabriac

October 31, 2014

This splendid yet little-reputed church is just miles from my house, yet I had never even noticed it. Perhaps I had never even driven past it. 

So many beautiful places so nearby; so many reasons to start this blog up again!

And so much to learn about the Blogger platform that I haven't touched for several years now! 

No grand réveillon for this gal

"Le réveillon du 31" is all well and good, but I just can't be bothered with it

Is it my American side creeping back, is it age, or is it general party poopiness?

There must be some reason that this year, I am spending the much-made-of réveillon du St. Sylvestre at home more or less alone.

Sure, there will be my husband, a foie gras, a few stray scallops, and some glasses to wash in the morning. But this is a far cry from our French New Year's Eve parties of old.

To be honest, le réveillon has been weighing on me for the past five years or so.

It is a pain to plan.

It is expensive at a time when plenty of euros have just gone out the window for Christmas.

It is food-heavy at a time when most of France has already been feeding heavily.

And it's all over so horrifyingly late! I think the earliest we have ever gotten to sleep after a French New Year's Eve party was 3am. The latest was 6am -- and oops, I hosted that one.

As I write this, I'm sure many of my expat readers are anxiously awaiting the big night, and perhaps putting finishing touches on a fancy apéritif platter or checking that the Champagne is chilling nicely.

I truly wish you the best! But this year, I'm quite content with my cook-a-little, geek-a-little, sip-a-little, stay-at-home réveillon.

On. Vacation. Happy. Holidays.

Rodez's little Champs-Elysées, decked out for Christmas 2007

First, HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL!

I know many people work through the 24th of December, and even on the 25th.

But as a teacher, I have been sorely spoiled -- and working until 6pm this evening has made things seem, somehow, un-Christmasy to me.

I'm sure that will change tomorrow as I rush into gear to prepare a Christmas Eve meal...or as all four of us leave in a panic to approach an airport in a warmer climate.

One thing is sure: our Christmas will be atypical.

We are flying off on Christmas morning for a surprise European destination; the trip is the girls' -- and the family's -- main Christmas present.

Hopefully the weather will cooperate. For the moment, things are looking quite good, even if Aveyron is under an "alerte orange" for snow tomorrow.

To be continued, after the facts.

A Curious Christmas Coming

The world from my window this evening

'Tis the season -- and a lot of comments are floating around about being in a Christmas panic.

It's interesting for me to note how I have simplified Christmas over the years. Of course, when the girls were little it was necessarily something of a production. I was working a lot less too, and usually had at least their full two weeks of vacances scolaires off -- and sometimes even more.

Now that I work more, and in fact have a full-time contract, I have more constraints. This year, for example, I have class until the evening of December 23rd. I was feeling sorry for myself about this fact until I thought about all of the people who must work on the 24th and, of course, on the 25th.

This year our family celebration will be very simple: our traditional meal of boudin blanc -- nothing could be easier to cook -- and just a few presents.

Early Christmas Day, I will be coming into a new (for me) form of contact with some of those "people who work on the 25th" because we will be flying away on a short trip very early on Christmas morning.

The destination is a secret for now as it is part of the girls' Christmas gift -- not that they are avid readers of my blog!

I think it will be most interesting to be travelling on Christmas-- one of those things one should maybe do once in a lifetime.

Have you ever travelled on Christmas Day -- plane, trains, hotels, the whole bit?

Five Random France Profonde Photos

(Rodez by night; driving down la rue St. Cyrice)

La France Profonde has represented two main endeavors for me: writing and taking photos. Both have waned lately, partly because the number of photos that have piled up in my France Profonde file has become overwhelming.

I do have a Flickr account where some of my photos go, but have never kept up with that faithfully.

As I revive this blog, I hope to get back to posting more photos, perhaps in a random way like today.

(Escargot -- Photo courtesy of Thierry Jouanneteau)

My husband is a crack photographer, and should be getting even crackier given the number of cameras and pieces of photo equipment he has been buying lately. The above photo, besides the nice snail lines, gives a fuzzy view of our deck and front yard.

(La Foire Expo de Rodez, September 2009)

It seems like every weekend there is something going on in Rodez, and unfortunately we don't get to that many of the events. Last year we did go to the major "Foire Expo" -- a big event that is only held every 10 years or some such.

I didn't realize it at the time, but it was the last event we went to on the Place du Foirail, which is now being transformed in order to make room for le Musée Soulages and other attractions. I wish I had taken photos of the destruction of the old exhibition halls, but Thierry and I have vowed to bring you some pics of the ongoing construction of the museum, which is scheduled to open in 2013.

(Irises in our front yard)

I tend to blog about Rodez because that is where I work, and I hold an enduring fascination for the city. But we don't live in Rodez; we live in a bedroom community called Gages. I never have much to say about it because since our daughters left the local primary schools, we don't feel that connected to the community, and it is not the most scenic village in the area.

That said, I spend most of my weekends at home, and it is nice to get away from "the city."

(A random blog award)

I truly did choose these photos in a random fashion, by flipping around my photo files with my eyes closed. This blog award picture came up, and reminded me of the days when I actually got behind in responding to blog awards, memes and so forth.

Remember being "tagged" for memes? Does that still take place in the blogosphere?

Those were fun times, but I don't really want to get into those activities anymore. Just this space, a few faithful friends and readers to comment on and comment to, one post a week...that seems like plenty for me for now.

Bon dimanche!

Various goings-on 1: Trip to Brussels

Since deciding to revive this blog, I have realized I have a lot of catching up to do.

In fact, one of the reasons I have found this platform less relevant lately is that my life increasingly revolves around goings-on that aren't centered on the pastoral world of La France Profonde.
For example, the most exciting event of the school year so far has been my participation in a conference in Brussels about Erasmus internships. I was a conference speaker and everything, and ended up writing and editing, along with a team of three other Erasmus program coordinators from all over Europe, a "Joint European Commission Paper" about the future of the Erasmus internship program.

But that is probably of little interest to you, so back to "my trip to Brussels." Since I had gone there for work, it was only by the luck of plane schedules that I got an evening to go out to eat. I splurged at a famous old restaurant, founded in 1928, La Taverne du Passage:


The next morning, I had not even two hours to explore the city, and spent much of that time doing some intense chocolate shopping:

I had only been to Brussels once, on yet an even more perfunctory trip, and it left me with a very nice impression.

I had forgotten how drop-dead gorgeous La Grand-Place is; I didn't have good photography conditions, but it still left me stunned:


Also, outside of the modern Euro-bureau areas, the city seems to have plenty of funky, old-fashioned nooks and crannies that cry out for further exploration:

It's frustrating to go to a European capital -- THE European capital, in fact -- and have only a few hours to check it out. So I may be back in the near or not-so-near future.

Social Media Malaise, or I Miss Blogging

Last night I was staring blankly at my various Twitter streams on Hootsuite, wondering where to get a conversation started and feeling guilty that I wasn't following up on all of the fabulous, pertinent, relevant, useful bits of information and cool websites that Über Teachers were spitting out.

I flipped over to Facebook, liked a few remarks so I liked them, but wasn't really sure what to do there.

The social media evening had started out with grand expectations; I had been planning on "settling into some quality online time." You can even see the proof of that intention here.

But I quickly became listless and hopelessly unproductive. Let's face it: I'm suddenly feeling tired of hanging out with the same old social networks. You can even see proof of that sentiment here.

So I decided to take a trip back in time to the blogosphere of my past. Google Reader had been a scary place for me for the past few months, a guilt-inducing reminder of all the blogs I'm not reading and, especially, that I'm not writing.

But my visit there wasn't so daunting. I noticed that a lot of my best blogging buddies were slowing down their blogging pace too. They may have even been staring blankly at Hootsuite as I stared blankly at Google Reader.

I didn't stare blankly for very long. I left some comments, even though I almost felt like an intruder doing so. I signed up for comment subscriptions, something I had previously written off as a waste of time.

The hour got late, but by the end of the evening I felt like I had actually "engaged" again in a way I don't do on Facebook or Twitter.

I miss blogging, and I think I will have to do something about that.