Retour de saison

After an unseasonably warm and dry February, winter made a comeback last week.

My daughters found themselves sprinkled with snow as they went back to school after the two-week winter holiday; my colleagues and I all bundled up at work as suddenly the heating system didn't quite keep us warm enough.


I've experienced this retour de saison many times in March. Just two years ago, it was also snowing during the first week of the month. And last year we fretted about making it up to Clermont-Ferrand to see Michel Polnareff in concert because it was snowing all over the area on March 19th.

I also remember one year when we had a huge snowfall on Easter Monday -- about a foot here in the Rodez area and at least three feet on the Aubrac mountains.

Winter lingers in Aveyron.

(Photos courtesy of Thierry Jouanneteau)

Wordless Wednesday 13

Montpellier under a different light

While many families are off skiing, my daughters and I often take advantage of a day or two of their two-week February holiday to enjoy shopping, sun and cinema in Montpellier.

It is exhilarating to cross the Millau viaduct, sense the dreary isolation of the Larzac plateau, descend the precipitous and infamous pas de l'Esacalette, and suddenly find ourselves surrounded by vinyards and glorious warmth.

This year was the first time that the weather didn't play the game, which allowed us to discover Montpellier under a new light:

We hadn't come for shades of black and beige, but the tones left us with a new impression of the city.

Wordful Wednesday

I can't quite remember the exact chain of events, but somehow my post about love letters on And So Forth turned into a request to Randal, from me, for a poem...

Le voilà (the link is mine):

Thither and yon through electrons we roam,
exchanging words in the shortest of lines,
you in a land flush with the richest vines
and I in a place that you once called home.

This strained verse is but a miniature tome
painting impressions in vain; all these signs
of the passage of time, kneel at the shrines
of the new; no lost letters on the foam.

A gentle request made; but what to say?
That I purloined a photograph one day?
Nay, a thing as eternal as the sea,

a feeling stronger than the swords of old,
more valuable than the king's store of gold;
the fortune to call someone mon amie.

A moment of sheer blogosphere magic, don't you agree?

The Underside of Renovation

La Belette Rouge pointed out in a comment on my post about the changes taking place on the Rue Béteille:

"Your posts have featured a lot of change and construction lately. There's this post and the tractor (loved that picture). Are you in a mood of renovation?"

I am in anything but a mood of renovation (although I know someone who is -- or at least had better be.)

I watch, intrigued, as icons of Rodez's past move into the 21st century.

My first photo shoot of the changes taking place at the Hôtel Broussy gave a general idea of this major modification, but two months later I had to return to snap images of the grey underbelly of change.

This time a worker came up to talk to me. He was rightly curious as to why I was photographing this:

-Vous prenez des photos de ça?

-Oui, je trouve ça fascinant...

-Pour vous peut-être -- pas pour nous!

-Je veux bien vous croire...avec le froid qu'il fait...

-On espère juste qu'il tient le choc!

Wordless Wednesday 12 -- None of My Own Words, Anyway

Love emails, anyone? Everyone?

I didn't get around to writing a Valentine's Day post, but today this article culled from my favorites got me thinking about how much Internet communication has certainly changed long-distance relationships.

I've written a longer post about it here, full of indiscreet questions that I'm sure some of you could answer...if you're game...

Millau and Gloves: C'est urgent!

At least it seemed like it was at the time I bookmarked this!

An October 2007 Agence France Presse article explains how the glove industry is making a comeback in Millau, Aveyron's second-largest city.

I knew Millau had once enjoyed a booming glove industry; I knew that said industry had fallen on hard times for reasons obvious to anyone who knows anything about manufacturing in the Western world; I knew that there were signs of a renaissance in the industry.

But I did not know this fun fact:

"Millau has been since the Middle Ages the world's centre of glove-making. There is an impeccable logic as to why: in a word, Roquefort. To supply the ewes' milk needed to make the famous blue cheese, lambs were slaughtered soon after birth when their pelts were too small to be turned into anything bigger than a pair of gloves."

So, the Roquefort connection may be omnipresent in Millau's economy. I wonder if there's any link between the cheese and the viaduct?

(Expect more "C'est urgent!" bulletins as I try to wade through my over-flowing "France Profonde Urgent" favorites file!)

Wordless Wednesday 11

(Photo courtesy of Thierry Jouanneteau)

Change on la Rue Béteille

I think you've already picked up the feel for today's post. No scenic wonders -- although you will get a glimpse of Notre Dame de Rodez before the end, I promise.

This morning's subject is la Rue Béteille. Unless you're a Ruthénois/e or know Rodez well, the street means nothing to you.

But to those of us who drive up it constantly, the name conjures up immediate imagery: sooty buildings that have endured decades of traffic, including trucks before the days of la Rocade, the small ring road that allows vehicles to go around Rodez rather than over and through it; a depressing number of shut-down shops; a pervasive sense of gloom.

And to think all of this is changing as I write! I had better start getting out of my car on this street, as I did Friday afternoon, and fast.

Imagine: in thirteen years of driving up la Rue Béteille I had never noticed the former Midi Libre office above.

And it's a good thing I caught it yesterday, because it's on the very lower left of something big that's going on here:

Lest anyone misinterpret me, I'm not criticizing. I don't think a lot of passers-by will miss places like the Midi Libre plus dumpster cranny, nor this forlorn former barber shop:

La Rue Béteille is indeed in desperate need of a facelift, and I'm not sure there's much room for either of the above storefronts in the process.

After all, the street leads directly to the historic town center, and as such is a kind of gateway to scenic Rodez. I've often joked that it's a good thing it's one-way because visitors might be tempted to turn back -- as I was the first time I drove up it in 1995, knowing that the Rodez area would be my new home.

Yet it presents a few hidden treasures that I had better snap before it's too late. Sure, some are of interest only to weirdos (like me) who feel overwhelming urges to stick their noses against windows of abandoned structures, or even find a way to get into them.

Others, like this door, present a true sense of mystery:


I'm glad I captured it yesterday, because here's how it fits into the big picture:

I have a feeling it's not long for this world.

Friday's French Find: Emilie Boudet

I missed out on Wordless Wednesday this week, so I thought I'd share a French find.

Today I stumbled upon this charming blog by French illustrator Emilie Boudet. We were actually on the same Google alert because she had used the term "France profonde" in one of her posts.

All that talent and only 25 years old! The mind boggles...

Emilie's drawings and other creations are oh-so-justifiably copyrighted, so my first version of this post had no illustration. But she just left me a comment giving me permission to share one. I chose "Pianissimo" for its combination of piano and Parisian rooftop imagery.

If you love that French je-ne-sais-quoi, check Emilie's site out. And send her an encouraging comment as she is starting to write her texts in English.

There ought to be a law...

As a huge fan of musical comedies, and a confirmed admirer of Johnny Depp, I found myself in quite the dilemma when Sweeney Todd came to Rodez in "version française" -- or dubbed.

Before making any decisions, my daughters and I checked out the most essential piece of information we needed before shelling out for a movie ticket: is the score dubbed in French?

The answer is no. So knowing that the sung portions at least equal and probably outweigh the spoken dialogue in the film, I decided to take my chances at the cinema. The other option was to wait for the DVD, and I knew this was going to be big screen stuff.

But s'il vous please -- how can a version française of this film even exist? I experienced total language disconnect as I listened to the score, sung in English but often peppered with spoken remarks in French. I ended up not understanding some of the French -- and even some of the English -- because the constant changing back and forth was just too neurologically complex.

So, if you live in France and have the chance to see Sweeney Todd in VF, should you bother?

I would still say yes -- but prepare to leave the theater in a state of linguistic confusion. And I suspect this problem is even worse for the French audiences.

What a difference a few minutes make

After leaving the Rodez train station last Saturday morning, I went up to the market in the town center. I seldom go there, so I had plans to take plenty of photos to share with you -- but it was too darn cold! I sipped a hot chocolate in a smoke-free café instead.

My frozen fingers did at least function well enough to be able to catch a striking change of light on the bell tower of Notre Dame de Rodez.

The photo above was taken at 7:57 am.

The photo below was taken six minutes earlier:

Wordless Wednesday 10 -- The Wages of...?

La Gare de Rodez at Dawn

As dawn breaks on a chilly January morning, what is going on at the Rodez train station?

Come with me to take a look:

At 7:40 am on a Saturday, the joint isn't exactly jumping.

A few passengers drift in; a few cars pull out of the parking lot. And there is no chance of slipping into the now smoke-free train station café -- it hasn't yet opened its doors.

But I could pick up a newspaper and an issue of L'Express with Barack Obama on the cover, and slurp coffee from a Selecta drink machine:

By the way, what yanked me out of my nice house (read "bed") so early on a freezing Saturday morning?

Was I off on an exciting little trip just for moi, myself and I?

Actually, what got me out and about this morning was the blind determination of three teenage girls, two of whom I can claim as my own, to spend the day shopping up a storm at the sales in Toulouse:

And no, I wasn't invited along!

C'est normal...

They chugged off on this sleek new TER, or regional, train:

Not so long ago, the trains to from Rodez to Toulouse were of the squat, square and sooty variety:

So the rail trip from Rodez to la Ville Rose has become significantly more pleasant.

Attention à la fermeture des portes automatiques!

Have fun, girls...

It's going to be a long, beautiful day...

Time to get back to my car:

Wordless Wednesday 9

(Click on photo to enlarge.)

Rodez Town Aveyron Years Just -- What the ****!!!

On my Google alert for "France profonde" today, I was rather pleased to see some of my content.

Until....I saw that it came from here.

I won't grace this with a screenshot -- not that I can remember how to make one.

And I'd love to shoot off an incendiary comment, but of course the "comment" function doesn't work on this new pseudo-blog, so eloquently entitled "Rodez Town Aveyron Years Just."

Damn you, "dustdiary," if you're going to steal my posts at least get the accents right! I hate to think of one of my favorite local restaurants being known as "Goats et Couleurs!"

Not That I Bother about Such Things...

I honestly wasn't going to blog anything about France's (I suppose I should say "our" since I'm a dual national) wild and crazy president and his paramour. If there's one topic I want to avoid on La France Profonde, and one "French" term I detest, it's "les people."

But my parents just sent me a quick (3 minutes, 7 seconds to be exact) NPR broadcast by Scott Simon. And if you have 3 minutes, 7 seconds (to be exact) this morning and would like to spend it chuckling, listen to "Sarkozy and Bruni, a French Love Controversy."

Paris, I Knew You Well

There was a time in my life, too many years ago, when Paris meant France and France meant Paris.

As a French teacher in the USA in the 1980s, I took a number of trips to France, including a 6-week stay in Paris on a Rockefeller Foundation Grant. My French stays always included at least a week in la capitale -- and preferably many more. By 1989, I felt much more at home in Paris than Seattle, even though the Emerald City was only 60 miles from my home town.

Sure, I had visited parts of la province, all of which somehow felt parenthetical compared to the big city.

I had even spent four months as a student at the now-defunct "Stanford in Tours" campus -- only a few hours from Paris by train, by the way, even before the TGV. In those heady days of Eurail Pass train travel, my friends and I would sometimes "hop up" to enjoy a Parisian dinner. We would leave Tours at about 5pm, get to Paris just in time to eat, and catch a midnight-ish train back.

I moved to France in 1990, with visions of Paris dancing in my head. Not that I necessarily wanted to set up house and home there... but if I had spent months in Paris while living in the USA, I was certainly going to be heading there all the time...wasn't I?

Or was I?

What do you think?

Wordless Wednesday 8

(Photo courtesy of Thierry Jouanneteau)

Looking Up in Rodez

Sometimes I feel almost sick when I think that I lived in France for over fifteen years before learning to look up.




When I started La France Profonde, my goal was to share the beauties of Aveyron with...I was going to say my readers. But as I've said many times, I didn't imagine there would be any readers.





Now when I post, I know someone is out there. I have blogging friends and La France Profonde is a significant part of my life. And I have so many photos that the blogging process is, at times, paralyzing.


So my bloggy resolution for FP in 2008 is to get through my overflowing "Mes Images/France Profonde" file and share more of my pics.


Oops, this one looks like it slipped in from Pau or Biarritz:




Actually not. It's another glance up from the town center of Rodez. You really never know what you will find there.


As time goes on, I wonder if I will ever get out onto the aveyronnais backroads on the pastoral photo shoots I imagined when I started this blog. For the moment, my husband overwhelms me with visions of the aveyronnais countryside that few tourists will ever see.


And I keep snapping shots of Rodez dans tous ses états...






It's a logical division of labor. Thierry drives all over the aveyronnais countryside to work with farmers; I commute daily to la capitale, as some rural dwellers still call Rodez, to teach in a business school.

City rat, country rat? We have both sides covered.

Wordless Wednesday 7

Cross-cultural Clips 2

When I published my first Cross-cultural Clips post over six months ago, I thought it was a great idea and something I could carry on every month. I'm always collecting links to "articles of interest for La France Profonde," but time flies by and the articles get out of date. And anyway, it's a lot more fun to post cool photos of Aveyron.


But since I'm working from my laptop computer -- my desktop computer has mysteriously lost its Internet connection -- I have a manageable link list, one that can actually be perused without screaming "Abandon hope all ye who enter!" And from it, I have access to a few cross-cultural clips that should be of interest to expats, Francophiles and others inclined to compare cultures:


1. Here's a basic question for fellow expats: are you happy with your move?

According to a Dec. 20th article from Telegraph.co.uk, 80% of us are. Spain seems to be the best destination for expat bliss: over 90% of British expats say they are happy with their move there. However, "the unhappiest emigrants were in France...with nearly 19%...disappointed with their new life."


2. By now most France blog readers know that the smoking ban in cafés and restaurants has taken effect.

Personally, I've been waiting for this day for years, and one of my New Year's resolutions is to get back into the habit of frequenting cafés and restaurants that I have dropped because of smoke issues. I hope most non-smokers in France will do the same to help prove that the ban was a good idea, not only healthwise but commercially.


3. Now that the smoking issue is under control, I can turn my concern to drinking or, more specifically, "le binge drinking."

I used to think France had figured it out as far as drinking, especially among young people, was concerned: no taboos, an early drinking age (16), openness with parents -- all ingredients which led to responsible drinking for fun rather than irresponsible drinking to get drunk. But the tide is turning, with young French people increasingly adopting "the British model" for their forays with alcohol. God save us!

4. Have you noticed more service with a smile in France these days?

I think there's been a gradual improvement over the past ten years or so, but lately I've heard even more "Bonjour Madame!" as soon as I go into a shop and "Merci! Bonne journée!" when I leave -- whether I've bought anything or not. Apparently, though, there is still progrès à faire on the French service report card. "Foreigners rank France's cultural attractions and food as its top draws while hospitality gets the last spot on the list," reports Brigitte Hagemann on Dec. 22 2007 for Agence France Presse.

Have a good day! And if you're one of the unhappy expats here in France, remember that Spain is right across the border!

Bonne année!

This piercing blue sky shone over the Causse Méjean in the Lozère department on January 1st, 2008.

I hope it brings all of my readers a very happy and healthy New Year.

Meilleurs voeux!

Old reflects against new

What is one of Rodez's oldest food shops selling for the holidays?

Farm-raised capons, boar, ready-made dishes...and ostrich steaks which, contrary to what you might believe, could very well come from Aveyron.

In the shop window opposite, the English word "authentic" reflects a different approach to commerce.

Wordless Wednesday 6

(Photo courtesy of Thierry Jouanneteau)

Christmas Wishes from France

Merry Christmas to all of my family, friends and readers!

Joyeux Noël à toute ma famille, et à tous mes amis et lecteurs!

Joyeux Anniversaire à La France Profonde

Deux ans déjà!

Let's face it, my timing for starting this blog was not that great. It's a little like those kids who have their birthdays around Christmas -- a lot to handle at a very busy time of year.

But here it is, December 22nd, and I am celebrating La France Profonde's second birthday.

La France Profonde has been a labor of love from the beginning. It is by far my favorite of my three blogs, and I only regret that I don't have more time to devote to it.

Of course, I can hear you saying, if I gave up my other two blogs I could have more time for FP. But each of my blogs fulfills a different purpose and a particular need, and each one has developed its own network of readers, acquaintances and, yes, friends. And I can't imagine giving any of them up.

I started my blogs as an outlet for writing and, quite honestly, as a way to get some writing clips up on the Internet. And my blogs have led, directly or indirectly, to a bit of freelance writing work that has been an enjoyable complement to my teaching job.

But by far the richest return from blogging has been my contacts with other bloggers who have become regular readers...and an important part of my life, which is something that non-bloggers can't seem to understand.

There are the fellow expats, especially Ken, Walt, Katie and Meredith, whom I keep up with regularly and who have provided plenty of comments and support over the past two years.

Then there are the American Francophiles, readers I've picked up more recently and with whom I love to compare notes. Marjory, Randal, Belette, Colleen -- thanks for your faithful comments and I hope my occasional reality checks don't discourage you from your unfailing love for France!

And Ali, I've said it before: I really learned what blogging is all about from you.

There are so many others who drop in from time to time, and that I drop in on. How I love your visits, but also clicking into your little corner of cyberspace!

Finally, you may have noticed that some of the blog's best photos, like this one and this one, are marked "courtesy of Thierry Jouanneteau." As you might have suspected, Thierry is my husband, and his job gets him out and about in the aveyronnais countryside -- thus allowing me to share views of la campagne that I wouldn't otherwise have.

Merci à tous et à toutes!

And if you've made it this far, stop by my very favorite post. It didn't elicit that many comments -- no accounting for some people's tastes, especially mine I suppose -- but it gave me shivers.

Wordless Wednesday 5

(Photo courtesy of Thierry Jouanneteau)

Aligot Travels Well

After Paris, Toulouse.

Last Saturday, I happened to run into some happy Toulousains lunching on aligot, Aveyron's cheese and potato specialty, as they enjoyed the Christmas market on the Place du Capitole.

At first I wasn't absolutely sure what these Saturday shoppers were savoring, but a quick look around the market stands revealed potatoes and tomme fraîche all dressed up for the holidays:

I had hoped to get a closer look at the aligot operations, but couldn't break through the crowd at the highly popular stand. I guess aligot is a hit wherever it travels.