126 GOURMET TRAVELLER
PHOTOGRAPHY GETTY IMAGES (BERGERAC, BLACKBERRIES & LA CIOTAT HARBOUR).ingredients(hottip:ina ruralFrenchsupermarket,
risottoricewillbeinthe“international”section,
alongwitheye-wateringlyexpensivesoysauceand
Englishtea)whileGlendiligentlyapplieshimselfto
charmingthefamouslysurlycheckoutoperatorsand
investigatingthewinesection.Ourneighbourstell
usweshouldvisita cave(winery)nearbyinsteadof
buyingsupermarketwine,butwenevergetaround
toit.Inhindsight,thisis probablya goodthing–
theybuy 20 litresfor 20 euros.
Wethoughtwewerecitypeople,butFrenchfarm
life(admittedly,withoutthehardworkofactually
farming)suitsusincrediblywell.Wegrowstrangely
fondofbeingwokenbydonkeysbrayingandEve
namesthegoatsthatwaitpatientlyforourfoodscraps.
There’ssomethingveryluxuriousaboutlivingina
placewherethere’snotmuchtodo– andhavingall
daytodoit.Weeat,wegoforwalks,weread,wejoin
newfriendsforapéritif– it’severypartasrelaxing
asit sounds.Ofcourse,whattwoadultsfindrelaxing
doesn’talwaysfitwiththeneedsofa sociablepre-
tween.SendingEvetoschoolturnsouttobea
geniusmove,becauseit helpsusallmakefriends
andestablisha network.Throughschool,forexample,
wemeetChrystèle,a FrenchteacherandJuliette
Binochelookalike,whoteachesuslotsofuseful
slangandimpartsvaluableintelaboutthebest
set-pricelunchestobehadinthesurroundingarea.
Thefirstone,ina smallvillagedeepinwine
countrynearBergerac,setsthebarhigh.Weareserved
a gianttureenoftourainblanchi(garlicsoup),a plate
ofcharcuteriewithsaladandavocadovinaigrette,
blanquettedeveau(vealragoût)andcrèmebrûlée,
fortheprincelysumof 13 euroseach.Wesitnextto
FrançoisandGeorges,twoarboristswhoareascurious
aboutthesetwolayaboutKiwisasweareabout them.
Aretheygoingbacktoworkafterlunch,
I ask,concernedabouttheeffectsofa
litre-carafeofvinrougeonpeoplewho
wieldchainsaws.Ohno,theyroar,not
today.François,whoresemblesa thin
FatherChristmas,teachesushow
tosay“jesuisrepu”(I’msated)or–
lesspolitely– “jemesuisgavé”(I’m
stuffed).Thelatterexpressioncomes
from“gavage”– theforce-feeding
usedinfoiegrasproduction.After
a four-courseFrenchlunch,it’shard
nottofeelsympathyforthepoorgeese.
Weareinaweofalltheblueoverall-
wearingworkmenwhowelunchwithonother
occasions.Afterfourheartycoursesandwinewe
usuallyhavetowalkaroundthecountrysideforan
hourortwotostayawake,buttheygobacktotheir
varioustrades,apparentlyunaffected.Ourlunchtime
adventures also include lining up at the schoolcanteen,wheresixeurosbuysa four-courselunch–
includingcheeseanddessert– inthecompanyof
150 primary-schoolchildren.Schoollunchesare
sacrosanctinFranceand,despitecomplaintsthat
thefoodis notalwaysasnutritionallysoundasit
couldbe,thereareuntoldbenefitstodiningtogether.
Noneofusmisstheschoollunchbox,leastofallEve.
WhentheschooltermendsinearlyJuly,wehit
theroadfortwomonths,zig-zaggingdowntheAtlantic
CoastandtoSpain,thenacrosstotheMediterranean
coastand– briefly– Istanbul.Thelatteris exhilarating
andexhaustinginequalparts;it’salmosta relief
toarrivebackinFranceandfeelat “home”.We
decompresswitha three-weekstayinLaCiotat,a
rapidlygentrifyingseasidetownbetweenMarseille
andToulon.Here,themarketsarefullofmelons,stone
fruit,eggplantandtomatoes;theairscentedwithpine
needles,figleavesand– becauseit’sFrance– cigarettes.
WeallfallinlovewithLaCiotatanditsdramatic
scenery,butthenit’stimetogetbacktoEymetforla
rentrée(backtoschool)andourlastsixweeksinFrance.
Afterthepunishingheatofsummer,autumnin
Eymetis mild,withmistymorningsburningoffto
bright,sunnydays.It’salsoa forager’sdream.Wepick
kilogramsofblackberriesandfigs,anddiscovervin
bourru,thepartiallyfermentedgrapejuicetraditionally
madelocallyat thestartofthevendange(harvest).The
terrifyingsupermarketladiesstarttosmileat us.Weget
hookedona TVshowsearchforFrance’sbestbakery.
Evestandsupinclassandrecitesallfiveversesofa
Frenchpoemwithouta singlemistake.I startdreaming
inFrench.Glenbefriendsa straycat.Then,alltoo
soon,wearedoing“thelast”ofeverything.Thelast
triptothemarket;thelastwalkaroundthecatchment
lake;thelastSunday“marchégourmande”underthe
treesat Soumensac,whereoneofEve’sclassmates
makes perfectcrêpesandherparentsservefried-goat’s
cheesesalads.AndEve’slastdayat
school,whereI weepat theschoolgate
whentheprincipalhugsmegoodbye.
Ourfriends– a ragtagmulti-national
groupthatnowincludesgorgeous
Chrystèle– throwusa dinnerparty
thatstartslateandfinishesevenlater
inproperFrenchstyle.Wedrinklocal
wineandArmagnacanddancetothe
internationallyunderstoodlanguage
ofBeyoncé.Thenextday,weallcry
as wedriveawayfromIsabelleand
Thierry’sfarm.“Comeback,”they
say.“You’llalwaysbewelcomecheznous.”
“Whataboutallthosethingswenevergotaround
todoing?”I sniff,aswedrivetoBordeauxairport.
“Andwe’releavingtoosoonforthewalnuts.”
“Nevermind,Mum,”comesa sadvoicefrom
the back seat. “There’s always next time.”●There’s something
veryluxurious
aboutlivingin
a placewhere
there’s notmuch
todo – andhaving
all day to do it.Clockwisefrom
topleft:La
Ciotat’sharbour;
housesin
Bergerac;haricots
beurres(butter
beans)from
Eymet’smarket;
writerLucyCorry
withwatermelon
atthemarket;
freshblackberries;
a streetscene
inLaCiotat;
a shopfrontin
Cassis.PREVIOUS
PAGESLeft:view
oftheDordogne
riverfromthe
villageofDomme.
Right,clockwise
fromtopleft:
copperpans
atChâteaude
Bridoire,Ribagna;
a châteauin
Eymet;French
produceincluding
beef,wineand
baguettes;
localheirloom
tomatoes.