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On Saturday last I slept in (the day after the 4am Puy de Fou return) until midday. When I woke, my host mom and I did some gardening in her back yard, and then she asked me if I'd like to pick some haricots verts (green beans). I say, bien sure! Of course! Little did I know what I was in for. We walked through the neighborhood, a mish-mash of ancient homes behind decrepit, vine-covered walls and new homes in the old style trying, like thumbs at a finger convention, to fit in. There are so many copious gardens in people yards. And not just their backyards, but the front too. People have great big lots in front with grapevines, fruit trees, green beans, tomatoes, carrots, beets. I want to live like that! I guess my life in Ashland is pretty close; my garden is only a few blocks away. Annick's community is also just down the street, and wow. It's amazing. Figs as big as lemons, nectarines (which no one here seems to know the French equivalent to), all the aforementioned vegies as well as artichokes, zucchini, squash, herbs, and who knows what else. They have bees, and a resident beekeeper named Jean-Claude, a short, funny, gnomish man in his 60s with a nose like red cauliflower and bright mischievous eyes. He promised to deliver some of their honey for me in a day or two when the hives were full. Needless to say, I was in heaven. I imagined living in the little shack where Annick keeps her buckets and tools, eating boysenberries (the best EVER) for breakfast, tomatoes and salad for lunch... Everything I'd been eating since I got here came out of this garden. It was such a treat to see it, and help harvest dinner.
We picked the green beans, tomatoes, lettuce, zucchini, some figs and I found a few potatoes laying around. We also found all the ripe boysenberries - the bush was on its way out of season, sadly, but ate those on the spot. The blackberries might be ripe before I leave, and you can bet I'll be checking... I made friend zucchini to go with dinner that night.
The next day I got up at 5:30 (Mon Dieu!) get to the bus for a trip west to Mont St. Michel and St. Malo. It poured rain all the way there. At Mont St. Michel, the rain let up and we actually got some sun through the clouds for a bit. MSM is an ancient abbey/castle on the top of a small mountain on the West Coast of Bretagne, or Brittany, the region of France with a strong Celtic influence. The birthplace of the crepe. It was started in the Middle Ages and transformed every few centuries by whichever monarch was in power at the time. It went from French to English to French a few times, was used as a castle at times and is now one of the most viisted places in France. It's surrounded by marshlands that, when the tide is high, are covered in several feet of ocean water. We were there at low tide, but we were warned not to go out too far toward the ocean, as people have been stranded as the tide came in. The abbey itself is beautiful. Inside the oldest part, you can smell its age. I know that sounds weird, but those of you who have been in a reeeeeeeeally old building can attest, there is almost a visceral smell of the age and history. The tapestries hanging in the lower parts of the Chateau d'Angers had the same smell. It's one of the things I love about Europe. The age mixed with the ancient incense, probably burned there for hundreds of years.
There were nuns in the church at the top, praying, lighting candles and generally being holy. There was one who I thought was too pretty to be a nun, and I asked to take her picture, but she declined. I suppose it gets old, being perceived as part of a tourist attraction. That wasn't my perception, but I couldn't tell her that with my vocabulary.
After lunch there, we went to St. Malo, a walled city right at the waters edge a short ways away. Very touristy. Lots of creperies, cafés and little overpriced shops. I checked out the tidepools with my friend Allie and we got crepes. Kinda had to. People there were swimming and playing in the ocean, but though the sun was shining, it was under 70 degrees outside. Not nearly warm enough for me to venture into the cold Atlantic. There was a cool band of Roma musicians playing their gypsy music in the main square. I thought to buy a CD for my mom, but they wanted 23 Euro! For one! And they weren't double length or anything. I just laughed. But people were buying them. I guessed that they weren't doing the math. 23 Euro = about $34. Forget that noise! The band was good, but not that good. I took a photo (posted below). And there was sun. The first I'd seen in days.
I'm wondering where my summer has gone... Oh right, it's in Ashland... dang. I hope to find some sun in the South of France in a few weeks. My friend Drew (mentioned in the earlier blog) is staying at a castle an hour or so South of here, and I may be able to go work there when I'm done in Angers. I am in the process of figuring out if it will work or not. Apparently they throw parties there. Sounds like my kind of place. I had a test today and tomorrow we have a half day. Yesssss. I see shopping in my near future. ANd I have cafés to visit. Friday we go on a tour of local site "trogloditique" which, for those of you who are not total geeks like me, is a place where people in ancient times built homes, farms and living space into the hillsides and partway underground. It sounds so cool. And that evening we eat at a restaurant nearby that specializes in mushrooms. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay! Can you tell that I am excited about that? Mmmmmm. Mushrooms. In French "champignons". That's our word for the day.
Gotta go back to class. A bientot!