Berry berry nice!

I’d spent a lot of time telling Anf about my wondrous friend who lives in the centre of France. She’s an artist, her partner is an arts dealer, their place is incredible, they live in France’s pottery central. They’ve built their gorgeous grand design house themselves, recovering a knackered old hut. They have a little girl and live the good life. Slow pace. Markets in the mornings. Limited media. No neighbours for miles. All around them are fields and forest.

I’m not sure if Tone fully appreciated how in the middle of everything they were (they were about another hour from the motorway and it seemed to get later and later without us feeling like we were making much progress! I mean, I knew we were advancing, but I can understand it might have felt like we were just driving aimlessly along windy unknown roads.)

It was a long drive from the motorway to my friend’s house and I was a little nervous we’d struggle to find it but I had screenshots from Google maps from when we stopped for wifi before. I just had to follow that.

It was dark, free from city light pollution and the trees towered over many of the roads we drove along (think Brockley Combe Road, Bristolians). Anf stopped to pee and was bowled over by the clarity of the sky, the visibility of the stars.

We turned one corner to discover a young dainty little deer casually crossing the road and, at one point, an owl decided to launch itself from a branch just as we arrived. It soared in front of us, under the cover of the trees, us under it, showing off its wide distinct wingspan. A special moment.

We eventually got to my friend’s house, just as a shooting star went by above their place (I’ve not added this for literary effect, it really was that idyllic!), and we bedded down for the night.

 

We woke slowly in the morning, catching up with our hosts over some lightly toasted tartines (baguette bread with some kind of spread on top), brioche, homemade jam and local honey, all the while supping tea from beautiful handmade artisanal ceramic bowls. The blossom was just appearing on the trees in her garden and the flowers were in bloom. Blue tits would come down and peck at her compost bin. The scenery was certainly a lot greener than anything we’d seen so far on the trip. Spring has sprung and it was the perfect, relaxed way to wake up after so many days on the move.

We had the pleasure of seeing my friend’s little girl before she went off to nursery and then we showered and accompanied my buddy to the market.

Oh. How I miss French markets. We picked up a few bits and bobs for lunch/dinner; fresh olives, Sancerre wine from the region, roast chicken (?! – Tone was ravenous after getting accustomed to much more than a tartine for brekkie!) and plonked down in a bar to take in some of the sun.

Yes - artsy, eh?! Anf took this one; I just artsied it up.

I thought the hat that this man was wearing was a beret. I was mistaken; it’s actually a berrichon – a hat typical for the region of Berry, where we were, which is mainly made up of farmers.

 

My friends had another friend coming by who was an art collector and we aperoed (the drink and nibbles you have before sitting down to eat properly) on some rillettes, pâté, and saucisson whilst we got to know one another. We lunched on a delicious creamy cheese and ham pastry that my friend got from the market, served up with fresh salad and a grated carrot accompaniment, chaser of cheese, pudding and coffee. Well, that was enough to put us in a bit of a slumbery mood for the afternoon. I sat and took in the sun whilst Anf went for a walk (and my friend took their guest through their home-based art gallery). Just so dreamy.

My friends are the youngest in the village and when they arrived in town, about 6 years ago, many of the locals didn’t expect them to dwell there (many Parisians have second homes in the countryside). La Borne, the village next to them, is very well known for its pottery (mainly owing to the clay vein that passes through the vilage, that only emerges again in Japan – eesh, don’t mention that place - sore subject!). We learned this whilst having a beer in the sun with my friend in the morning at the market. My friend’s partner is an art dealer in ceramics and he has become an integral part of the community, taking responsibility for the museum. He gave us an exclusive guided tour of the museum, that is housed in the local chapel.

Beautiful museum!

I’ve been keen to get myself a nice ceramic butter dish for some time so my friend and I went to a few pottery shops (essentially front rooms in local potters’ houses) to buy some bowls and a butter crock. Anf sat and took in the sun whilst we pottered. On the way back to my friend’s house, we swung by a local estate that is up for sale, called Linard. My friend was explaining it’s what is referred to as brut art – basically free expression – and it was a quirky little pad that I wouldn’t have minded buying myself! It sounds like the estate is falling to pieces so it’d be interesting to see what happens to the building and the installations around it.

We headed back to my friend’s house for the afternoon for chill and play times with the little one when she was back from nursey, had some dinner and grabbed a relatively early night. The day went by quickly, with lots of drinking, eating and generally relaxing. It was the first day Smiles did 0 miles since I’ve been with her and it was a welcome break.

New and improved food catcher for our Anfony.

Anf and I agreed it would be best if we hit the road north in the morning so as to be near to the ports so we can get back to blighty this weekend, as planned when we originally set out for Russia four weeks ago. It wasn’t quite clear what boat we’d get, nor what port we’d come home from, or into, but it’s probably best we’re in the area and if we had time, we could check out the D-Day beaches in Normandy.

Oh - and post theme tune!