Musings on a week's visit to the Morvan

Sunday

We are bed-testing.

Geoff is sleeping on the 'Princess and the Pea' sleigh bed. The mattress is so high that his head may slip over the headboard, but he looks quite sweet, daintily covered with the white lace tasseled counterpane. My bed, I'll call the Braille bed as my hand can caress the delicately molded wooden headboard and touch the flowers and stylized leaves carved at the beginning of the last century. This bed has an incredibly comfortable mattress. I have to feel my flowers as the night is black, a real inky pitch black as here in the Morvan, there are no street lights only stars. There is no city light haze in the distance either.

We are having a week's holiday in this 'gite' with the eventual option to buy it. We spotted this 5 story pile of country stone (a mini-apartment block!) sitting on a 'presqu'ile' between a river and a canal during our boat trip down the adjoining canal. Our minds tell us that this is a stupid house option because of the potential flooding, damp, mosquitoes etc. But in reality the two lower basement floors protect the rest and there is no sign of damp anywhere. There are no musty smells and the ever present trickle of gentle river water over the stones outside is soothingly therapeutic and hypnotic.

I'm now going to liken this house to a packet of biscuits I bought yesterday. The packaging was an anonymous brown and the biscuits themselves tiny cushions of puce coloured dough. But, Oh the taste!! 'Eat us' they cried 'we shall feed you with chocolate and healthy sugar' and they tasted like no other biscuit in the world. This house is similar. 'Buy me' it screams ' I will look after you and give you days of contentment and joy. I may not be the most handsome of houses but I have charm and soul, atmosphere and a happy past that I shall pass on to you.' Is this a wanton promise or reality?

For a start the Feng Shui doesn't work. The 'chi' runs straight up the precarious steep and creaky stairs, into the loo and probably down the toilet located in a tiny room which is painted black. In contrast there is a bright bathroom sporting a mango coloured sink with bold imposing side ledges and a same hued sunny bath. All the furniture in this house inhabits the space; we do not. The tone of the house is set in the 1930's. Every piece of furniture and decoration have been carefully sourced, including the endless posters telling us to eat DELESPAUL HAVEZ chocolate or CAPITAN pasta. Ride COTTIN et DESGOUTT cars or use COSMO gas cookers or even drink RICARD. There are pastel colours everywhere, Mauve for the kitchen, pale rose and sage green for the bedrooms. The upper level is 40 square metres of a dreamy loft space just waiting for an artist.

We have met quite a few local residents. Our neighbour, the lock keeper, straight from a Zola novel, has told us about his fatherless up-bringing, the foster homes, and the many half-sisters. However he is the salt of the earth: a reliable source of information and security. He sits at our table, ('scuse me THE table) in his dirty overalls after bringing over a wheelbarrow full of logs for the wood burner. His hair is impeccable and as he wears gloves for the heavy work and so his hands are soft and fingers long and nails manicured. He swims and cycles and is a local character not to be messed with.

Monday

Today we spent a day tootling around the countryside and had a colour therapy afternoon, through russet beach lined hill roads, burnt orange, mixed with yellow, a hint of viridian here and a splodge of crimson there. Vertical black trunks and horizontal autumnal foliage fed our spirits with joy. Ivory Charolaise cows decorated green prairies and every variant of grey cloud clung to the sky; even the summit of Mount Beuvery was hidden from view by it's mouse coloured shroud.

Tuesday

We wondered at the 3 VERTICAL stars that were rising in the East as we went to bed last night. It took a few moments to work out that these stars formed Orion’s belt. In Paris we are not able to see this phenomenon, so it was quite humbling. We had already gone for a torch lit walk and were able to see the Milky Way with so many constellations that the most easy to find ones were almost outshone by their companions. Had a very cosy night's sleep. This morning I washed my hair in the bright mango sink while Geoff went to the mayor's office to find out more about this village.

Unfortunately the Mayor wasn't in, but Geoff did meet a charming Dutch lady who told him about another 'gite' for sale, which we visited just for fun. This 'gite' was a sensible 2 bedroom ground floor cottage with garden and outbuildings set on a windy hill with a 360 degree view. It was being sold by an English farmer and his wife who have a 10 year old son, George. George is a star. He drives tractors and holds engaging adult conversations. George wants to become a farmer too. After this trip and then a picnic at the sunny marina, we return to a cloud free Mt Beuvery to really appreciate the scenery and we find mushrooms of various shapes, colours and toxicity as we take a brisk walk to its summit.

Another day

Geoff is cleaning and gutting fish. At least he is trying to as these silver slippery, flippery lozenges are still moving. We were given a plastic bag full of them along with another bag of mushrooms called 'trompette de la mort'. These are cone shaped ebony trumpets that we shall eat this evening in an omelette with the garlic and parsley that accompanied them. All these are gifts from a fairly near neighbour. Geoff is also 'under the influence,' as we have just had an aperitif at the neighbour's riverside cabin. The aperitif was a potent brew of rosé wine, eau de vie, (pure alcohol) and sloe leaves, picked at their youngest, we have been told. This concoction really addles the brain so we have decided to eat our ultra-fresh fishy lunch before we go out again!

I could go on for ever about the welcoming people in this area and their smiling faces. The stress free life style, the healthy food and the scenery. The animal auction in the next town, the ever present water, changing skies, the happy atmosphere and an unexpected exceptional art exhibition, and walks along the tow path. But no one would believe me!

That was a sensational 45th wedding anniversary but we didn’t buy the house!