Architectural Tour

Sunday, June 13, our last morning in Monton. We toured Khadidja's sister's house, a few houses away from Khadidja's. Amina's cellars were given an award for the best cellar in Monton. Three levels deep. She still stores wine and vegetables there, though not as extensively as in the old days.







Here's a photo of one of Anima's bedrooms in which the old beam figures prominently.



Khadidja's mom's place was right next door to Khadidja's. In fact, the two houses are so close that you can hop from one exterior staircase to the other. Jeanne is quite a gal--83 and still gardens every day. Just as in medieval times, the gardens are located outside what was once the city walls. She's also caring for a distant relative on her late husband's side. The 12-year-old girl is a little slow, and so her family sent her back to Algeria to fend for herself. When Jeanne rescued her, she was working under slave conditins as a maid.

Jeanne's house contains walls that were part of the castle built in 1060. This page from one of her childhood books shows the castle that became her house.



The houses are so close together that Jeanne's kitchen protrudes into Khadidja's house.



And here's a cupboard that was hollowed out of the wall.



The timbers in these old houses have been used many times over for many different purposes. Jeanne has one timber in her living room that has rungs on it, what was no doubt once a ladder. The beams are also of various widths, as shown here.



L to R: Jeanne, her cousin who is staying with her for a month, Heidi, Gabriel, Helene



L to R: Jeanne, Khadidja, cousin, Heidi



Before we left for the train station, Jeanne gave us a cherry custard she'd made from the cherries in the garden. That is the kind of easy back and forth between people in Monton, as the day before a neighbor had given us some cherries.

We then took the 12:45 train from Clermont back to Paris. I for one was sorry to leave this beautiful area. Khadidja had been such a warm and attentive host. She is quite a gal too.

We spent the night at Marie's, then flew from Paris at 1 p.m. the next day.

An Artist in the Family, Cave Dwellings, and Knives

Saturday morning the 12th, we drove to Les Martes de Veyre, where Khadidja's ex-husband Scott Martin lives. Gabriel has always lived with her, including her years overseas teaching in Nova Scotia and North Dakota. This is the first time in 21 years that Gabriel is living with his father.



Scott is a Canadian who has been living in France for 20 years. His French is flawless. He is an IT guy, but also a photographer who manipulates his photos to enhance the colors and the depth. Quite beautiful. Scott generously gave Helene and me several of his photos.



Back in Monton, Gabriel took us on a tour of a convent that has been converted into a B&B and of the cave dwellings. During the religious wars of the 17th and 18th centuries, people started living in these caves. They were occupied until the 1950s, then by refugees from eastern Europe.





For lunch we had grated carrots and beets, bread, butter, tomatoes, sausage, cheese, yogurt, and strawberries.

In the afternoon, we drove to Thiers, what had once been a thriving knife-producing city. Though some of its factories are in ruins, many still remain open. We toured the knife museum and a workshop. The guide explained how, in the old days, men would lie on their stomachs over a grindstone for hours at a time. Dogs would lie on their legs to keep them warm. Also, as the dogs got up and repositioned themselves, the men would in effect get a mini-massage to keep the circulation in their legs going.



Thiers also had a few fine examples of medieval architecture.











Though no one else seemed excited about the factories by the river that were in ruins, I certainly was. I love photographing ruins.

Monton Magic

Monton was so darn cute. I just must show you more of its beauty. First, my favorite image. Even when I took it, I said aloud, "This is going to be my best shot."

Farmers, Churches, Black Madonnas

Saturday's breakfast, like all the meals Khadidja made for us, was simple, wholesome, and delicious. Homemade yogurt. Cherry, apricot, and quince jams made by Khadidja's mom. Hearty bread.



We bought a few things at the farmers' market in Clermont. Fresh milk and cream from a man who treats his cows with homeopathic remedies, not antibiotics. He also sold bread and butter, slicing off what was needed from a large tray and from a 4-5 kg loaf. I bought two organic honey-almond nougats to take home as gifts.



We visited Notre Dame du Port, a fine example of Romanesque architecture, and the cathedral. Both tauted black Madonnas, a common icon in the area. I especially was touched by the descent to the crypt, the oldest region of the church and cold as it is underground. Seemed more mystical and otherworldly than even the silent presence that infused the diffuse light of the churches themselves.



We also dropped into a wine store that had two cellars and glacieres in the bottom floor. These are holes deep into the earth that were once used to store ice from the mountains and make ice cream. Naturally occurring ones can be found in the mountains, the byproduct of volcanic activity.







We took a circuitous route back to Monton so that we could delight in the little villages around Puy de Dome. When Khadidja and her son, Gabriel, were training for their Nepal trek, they could climb the mountain in 15 minutes. Impressive!



On the outside wall of the Romanesque church in Orcival are shackles. A souvenir of the Inquisition? A reminder that we are in bondage to this earthly form until liberated by the grace of God? No explanatory placard made that clear.





Upon our return to Monton, Khadidja offered us a snack--organic strawberries with fresh cream. Yummy! For dinner, we had organic farm-raised trout with scallions and wild herbs, broccoli, carrots, bread, and for dessert, strawberries with curds and whey.

A Rude Parisian and We're Off to Monton

On Thursday, June 10, we left our apartment for the last time and departed Paris via train. In the station, a woman yelled at Helene for not giving her seat up quickly enough so that an elderly woman could sit down. She berated Helene so violently; this was really uncalled for.



The 3 1/2-hour train ride sped us through the French countryside, usually too quickly to take it all in. Lots of cute towns with gray, tan, and beige stucco houses with red tile roofs.



We arrived in Clermont-Ferrand, a city of approximately 150,000, about 5 p.m. Khadidja was there to meet us. We drove about 15 minutes to get to her home in the village of Monton. She lives in a three-story house that dates back hundreds of years. Her mother's house is next door, and it contains walls that were part of the castle of the 11th century. What a lovely home Khadidja has! From the kitchen table, we could look out her front door and see the white statue of the Virgin and Child that watches over the town, as well as the caves in the hillside that were used as dwellings up until the 1950s. The view from her third-story veranda is equally lovely and includes the nearby church tower and the roofs of the village.







After settling in, we went to the top of the hill to visit the Madonna and Child. The wind was quite intense. Already by this time, I knew that I was going to love it here. Wonderful as Paris is, the French countryside is downright magical.



For dinner that night, Khadidja served homemade vegetable soup with a dollop of fresh cream, roast beef with fennil and potatoes, thick wheat-rye bread, and local cheeses. Khadidja is really into locally grown, organic food. She is part of an AMAP (Association pour le maintien ole l'Agriculturre paysanne), basically an association for the preservation of local agriculture. There is a big movement in France to resist genetically modified food. The difference in taste is amazing. Vegetables taste like vegetables. They have a rich flavor, unlike most of the produce here in the U.S.