“Don’t get too attached to the outcome. Set goals, kick ass and then let go….It’s time to breathe and enjoy the ride.”
Brooke Hampton
I like the above quote a lot–it seems to summarize my mindset these days. I have carried this ball of tension and anxiety inside of me for over three years. Suddenly, I feel like something has given me permission to release it. I need to let go of what I thought life should be, and be open to what life is now, in all of its splendor and terror. Life for me is about the people and places I connect with along the way that have their own story to tell. I hope you enjoy this post. There is a surprise at the end when life takes an abrupt French twist.
After spending most of July in Italia, I returned to Nérac, France. I had a few reasons for my trip, but mainly, I had to return a rental car that I rented after the confinement. I have had the car now for almost four months, and even after a small incident with €1700 in damage, I’ve grown quite fond of my rented Volkswagen Golf. It has journeyed over 5,000 kilometers (3,000 miles) with me this summer. It definitely has been a summer of surprises with a French twist.
Avignon, Cité des Papes (City of Popes)
The drive from Torino to Nérac is about 10 hours. I decided that a few days rest halfway in Avignon, France was a good idea. Avignon is a city located in the famous Provence region of France.
Most notably, Avignon was the seat of the Catholic Papacy from 1309 until 1376. The French monarchy installed Pope Clement V, but he refused to live in Roma upon his succession in 1305. It was only after several decades and six popes later, that Pope Gregory XI returned the Papacy to Roma in 1376.
Avignon has 13th and 14th century fortification walls for its perimeter. Within these walls is an absolute gem of a town that was hustling and bustling with European tourists. I spent two days walking around Avignon, exploring its sites, tasting its food and meeting first-time visitors and tourists that returned year-after-year to this beautiful location.
Inspiration with a French twist
It was on my final night when I sat down to have a glass of that famous Provencal rosé, that I met Vincent from Lake Geneva, Switzerland. That encounter was special, and I wanted to share it with you.
Thanks to Sofia, and her never-ending demand for attention, she forced an introduction between Vincent and I as he sat quietly enjoying his crusty baguette and French tapenade. Sofia dispelled with all sense of calm and quietness when she starting barking at Vincent as he ate. He eventually succumbed to the demands of attention from Sofia, and we began to talk. Vincent’s mother-tongue was French, however his English was perfect.
After a few minutes of conversation, I realized Vincent was lip-reading my words. My first inclination was to be curious, but I didn’t want to pry. I waited until he told me that he was hearing impaired from birth. He then shared with me that he indeed was lip-reading our conversation. What impressed me most, was that he learned to lip-read English in addition to his mother-tongue French.
The enormity of his accomplishment moved me. I am struggling to learn Italiano, and I’m talking to someone who learned two languages fluently without the assistance of sound. I found myself humbled. Vincent kept apologizing for his English, when in fact, it was better than many native English speakers. It was certainly more than adequate to carry on a thoughtful conversation, although he was resistant to accept any compliments from me.
When Vincent was 40 years-old, he underwent an operation to have the first of two cochlear implants. After a few months of adjusting to the new type of “hearing,” Vincent could hear sounds he never heard before. The first, he shared, was the sound of the birds chirping.
Vincent and Sofia became good friends over the course of our conversation. It also helped that Vincent wasn’t shy about sharing his food.
Vincent is an inspirational person. He reinforces my belief that no matter what challenges life creates, it also gifts you the abilities to deal with them. I think it’s natural for us to undervalue our strengths and promote our weaknesses. Strengths are seldom thought of as unique, they just exist within us. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we recognized those gifts within us more often?
Back to Nérac
After my Avignon visit, I proceeded directly to Nérac and arrived at the town that sheltered me during the COVID lockdown in the Spring. I wrote quite a bit about Nérac during the lockdown, and you can read more about the town and the region by clicking here.
What always makes me feel special in Nérac is the warm greeting I receive from the locals and the foreign transplants that reside here. I always uncover a few more native italiani as well, and they give me the chance to practice a bit. It’s certainly much easier to speak Italian while I’m in France than French.
What was different about this last visit was the removal of those restrictions on movement. The town swelled with an unusual amount of French tourists who escaped the summer heat from the larger cities of Bordeaux, Paris, and Lyon. There were a few English tourists in town as well, but as in most of the continent, the tourist population was markedly local this summer. Even the tourists in Nérac all came with a French twist.
A taste of Saint-Émilion
About 90 minutes from Nérac is a place that I have always wanted to visit, the village of Saint-Émilion. Many years ago, my late husband, Darin, took a day-trip to the village and the surrounding countryside. He always said it was one of the most beautiful days he spent in France. Darin did not impress easily, so I knew it must be unique. I was anxious to see what inspired him to think that. Along with my friend Maurine, who lives in Nérac, we decided to head to Saint-Émilion for the day. I could finally satisfy my curiosity, and we could taste the wines that have made this region famous.
If you asked me to describe the town, I would use Maurine’s explanation. It looks like the kind of village where Cinderella would have lived, complete with its gothic castle-like cathedral in the center of town and the surrounding village radiating out from the center. I can see why so many people journey here for the day or the weekend. The entire region is a feast for the mind, soul and stomach.
Le Cellier des Châteaux
After a delightful lunch and some window-shopping, we made our way to the most wonderful wine store, Le Cellier des Châteaux. It was there we met Valérie Magimel, the proprietor of the shop.
It was a scorching-hot day in Saint-Émilion. The cool temperatures inside the shop and the hospitable welcome from Valérie made us linger and sample more than a few wines. Valérie is not only an expert on the region and its wines, but she’s also a local businessperson. She has owned a shop in the village for the last 27 years.
Valérie shared with us the history of the Saint-Émilion wine region and the classifications and scales of the various producers. I actually learned quite a bit about the difference between grand crus and premier grand crus, and how they can dictate the success or failure of a vintner. Every 10-years the top wineries are awarded, and the wineries retain the designation until the next decade’s selection. It’s quite a competitive and interesting approach to managing the coveted Saint-Émilion wine reputation. If you’re interested in reading more about the wine classification and recipients from Saint-Émilion, click here.
It is a difficult year for small business owners like Valérie, but after 27 years in business, I expect she’ll be there the next time I return. I look forward to her sharing some great wine and another story with me.
After we carried our wines to the car, Maurine and I did a final drive around the village. We took some fantastic photos to remember our day together and capture the beautiful village in the afternoon light. I put together a montage so you could see the beauty I saw that day.
Going forward with a French twist.
Ever since the lockdown, I have been thinking about where I will plant myself for the next stage of life. I imagine I am at the same crossroads many of us face. After months of anxiety and uncertainty unlike anything I have experienced, I can’t be the only one searching for permanence.
I now see life as a series of ever-expanding circles, and my endgame is to have the largest “life-print” possible. I think it’s the only way to have a deeper understanding of life and recover balance after years of grief. That means being open to where life directs me, and I firmly believe it will always direct me towards expansion instead of contraction.
Through a series of serendipitous events over the summer, life has led me to purchase a home in France. How I came to find the house is for another story, but it was through my friends in France that the opportunity presented itself.
The house rests in a beautifully serene setting, isolated yet close to the village of Nérac. It is a wonderful place to pause, collect thoughts, and get my hands into another project. As of October, I assume the role of one of it’s many caretakers throughout its existence. The house has a life that dates back several hundred years. I expect to be a good steward of the history it holds and add my own imprint to its story.
I have a lot of emotions around this decision, but I’ll save those for future posts. What I do want you to know is that I’m not leaving Italia. I have such a connection to its people, culture and way of life, despite being an immigrant from America. I’m not willing to give that up now. So for now, I will split my time between both places and savor the best of both countries. How bad can that be?
I am confident that overtime life will unfold into a clearer picture of the future. I promise to share that with you. For now, I’m going to ride my way through life and enjoy it, even as it takes a French twist.
My parting thought for this post is, “Merda! Devo imparare francese!”
My dear friends, I cannot thank you enough for continuing to follow me on my journey. I receive such wonderful feedback from you on each of my posts. I now have readers in six continents and in 73 countries. The Spaghetti Diaries has allowed me to expand my life-print. I so enjoy meeting new people and sharing their stories with you. Your comments and personal emails to me about your journeys add to the fuel that feeds my fire. I wish you all the best during these difficult times. Know that whatever challenges you are facing, you are not alone. Sending love to you, Luke