Golf de Touraine

More to say...

OK... the thoughts just keep coming.  The participants on this trip have confessed they're living in a halo of their French experience.  We've all made an attempt at extending our trip by changing our everyday behavior.  We're buying food a little differently at the grocery store, adorning our kitchens with garden flowers, and lighting votive candles.  (Well, I'm doing that... but secretly I think the others are too.)  

We've shared our shopping lists in emails, sent photos of our produce finds, and touted our dining menus.  A new milestone has appeared on our timeline -  "life before and life after France".  I'm excited about the future.  I can't wait to see this group again.  I am different and I'm engaging in life differently. I believe each has been touched in some way by the experience of this journey. [Sorry should have forewarned you - "sappy alert!"]

I'm delighted to hear our friends and family have enjoyed our amateur attempt at blogging.  While the writing isn't great, at least the photos are able to assist telling the story.  In the need for haste and to get the site up and running we left out a few side trips and adventures.  So this post-blog will touch on those.  [It's a little long, so grab a cup of something and read on...]

Golf de Touraine
Thursday morning my friend Lisa lent me her husband Dan, so the two of us could get up at dawn to check out the links at a nearby public course.  The clubhouse's architecture was a bit of a surprise.  It was beautifully crafted in the French manner with the tell-tell architecture of squared-off, steeply-pitched rooves, over-sized windows and facade of white stucco, covered in ivy. The setting was serene particularly early in the morning. We borrowed a couple of bags and a ramshackle smattering of clubs from the pro shop, loaded the cart and took off into the mist toward the first hole.  We were giddy as school children.  (Dan you WERE giddy, don't deny it.)

Dan G. his dream of France realized.

The first few holes were a bit damp and cold but the sun came out and quickly and warmed the air.  The course itself wasn't terribly difficult but provided enough sand traps and water hazards to make club selection challenging.  The maintenance of the fairways equaled none I'd ever seen - lush, precisely manicured, top condition.  The surroundings were wonderful too, a simple French countryside... ducks, swans, and farms with orange clay tile roofs. The bonus was, we practically had the course to ourselves.

The groundskeeper's cottage was charming and magnificent.  Green striped awnings, a tall hedge of lilac bushes and a high wooden diving board perched above the adjoining pond.

Groundskeeper's cottage at Golf de Touraine

Dan played very, VERY well.  He took a birdie on the 15th hole (I think)... an AMAZING chip shot from the far downward slope of rough, just adjacent to the edge of the green.  He made it look so easy... a gentle stroke, a soft bounce, a looonnnng roll... then plunk!  Hit the pin and went in!  We shouted loudly... "Bon coup!  Good shot!" (Disturbed a foursome at the next hole... darn Americans!)

Dan with an excellent line drive down the middle of the fairway.

I was not playing well, (par for the course - rim shot) but I usually play to have fun anyway.  On approximately the 8th hole Dan gave me a tip, to interlace my fingers on the club.  "Like this?" I said not feeling at all comfortable...  I crossed my fingers, lined up for my opening drive, swung the club... and KNOCK! The ball went high in the air... flew fast and straight and FAR down the fairway!  Woowhoo! Thanks Dan... where was that advice seven holes ago?

We finished 18... then returned to the clubhouse, ordered a glass of white wine (vin blanc), and enjoyed it on the patio overlooking the 10th hole. The French golfers we observed were reserved, and very well dressed (think Ralph Lauren Polo)... and most walked the course pulling a matching golf bag behind them. Impressive. I think of the attire and behaviors of my own American country club members. and in Wisconsin we tend to be a bit sassy, mis-matched, and brightly feathered...but that's OK. This is golf - you have to play it to appreciate it, in all its forms. Thanks Dan for this particularly wonderful French experience.

Lovers, dreamers and me

October 10, 2013

So much has transpired between the time I loaded myself aboard a plane labeled "Air France" in Detroit, and tonight as I enter the last of my thoughts of this trip - it's been hard to completely capture and sort out all my notes.

First Impressions:
The French lived up to none of the negative hype that you sometimes hear from other Americans who have journeyed here.  I'll tell you what the French are:  they are kind, sympathetic, resourceful and understand how to enjoy life's many gifts.  All of us were aided in some capacity or another along our journey by the kindness of French strangers - without which we would not have been able to enjoy the best they have to offer in cuisine, wine AND I very well may have ended up in Spain.

Lasting Impressions:
Beyond the fact that this has been a visit to a truly magnificent country - it has been one of the most enjoyable experiences of my life.  The reason behind that has to do with my traveling companions.  Lisa and Dan, Melissa and Noe, Kristin and Kyle.  Each one shared the best of themselves and although we were strangers, they weren't afraid to share their thoughts, feelings, tears and laughter with me.  I will carry the memories of our adventure with me the rest of my life.

World's Collide:
Many have asked "what does world's collide mean?"  Another term coined by our friend Lisa - who has the wonderful gift of attraction.  Her easy-going persona and knowledge of meaningful things, tends to draw a crowd about her.  Her unselfishness compels her desire to connect the individuals she cherishes with others of similar spirit - to expand these meaningful connections.  This journey was partly her concoction to connect all of us.  Just like the flavor she adds to her expert cooking, this recipe turned out delicious. So thank you Lisa for escorting us about your beloved France and introducing us to one another.

Lovers:
Well one can't go to France without talking of Amour (love).  Melissa and Noe celebrated a wedding anniversary during our week in Loire.  It was fun getting them ready to go out for an intimate dinner at a local restaurant.  We directed Noe to a local florist (for roses of course), and adorned Melissa in borrowed couture and accessories (something blue as they say - in this case something green.)  Later that night in the den, they shared every delicious detail with us. Happy Anniversary to our two young lovers (and dreamers) - here's to many more years together.

"Prom" pictures in the garden.

Health and Happiness

October 7, 2013

While it seemed as if we were living in a fairy tale, (how could it not with the castle turrets and serene countryside?); reality is the manoir was cold and damp and our bodies subject to all sorts of germs.  The influenza that swept the midwest a few weeks earlier caught up to a few members in our group on Monday.  

Thankfully Artannes had a pharmacy with a sympathetic pharmacist who spoke enough English to recommend some cures.  Unlike the Walgreens in America, with its expansive aisles and broad range of inventory - this pharmacy was very small, and you basically had to ask the pharmacist for everything. Nothing is self-service here - it's all full-service with a smile.  Can anyone remember what that is like?  I'm appalled to think of the impression we make on the French when they visit our country.  

Anyway... in spite of a few health issues the happiness of everyone a broad stayed at record levels.  Also with no television, no phones, limited computer access and only a radio, we didn't find it difficult to entertain ourselves either. We found only one station that played music which ironically was American jazz - hosted by French DJ's - but it was the perfect backdrop to cook and eat by.  

One of my favorite evenings was spent in the lounge on the first floor which had a grand piano.  Luckily for us two of the guests (channeling the memories of childhood music lessons), managed to eek out a few tunes from sheet music discovered in the piano bench.  Several songs included two-part piano duets.  I'm not sure who had more fun, those of us listening - or the ladies at the ivory keyboard?  

The conversation at dinner was fascinating.  For those of you who know the members of the group, what you may not know is we didn't all know one another before our arrival.  Imagine travelling over 3000 miles (or more) to a foreign country, not knowing who you would be rooming with for a week?  For some strange reason, this did not worry me as much as the likelihood that I would board the wrong train and end up in Spain or something.  

We talked of so many things - a little about ourselves, our shared love of our pets, work, life, death, resurrection, life's hard knocks, but mostly our thoughts on what we saw during our daily treks in the countryside.  "We talked of cats and kings, and wine and things..."  

I can't speak for the rest of the group, but I've returned stateside recharged. I feel as if I've been blessed to find others who are adventurous, kind, generous, fun-loving, artistic, imaginative - kindred spirits; and who are wonderfully almost French. Une âme sœur est un éternel ami. Translated: A kindred spirit is an eternal friend.

Bread is Life

October 6, 2013

Like a runaway train; this best describes how this group of relative strangers took to the French experience. 

Reflecting back on the trip, I'm now sitting in the Charles De Gaulle Aeroport typing the copy for this entry. They've surrounded departing passengers with the world's best in chocolate, wine, clothing, handbags and of course perfume. So many scents linger thickly in the air; a conglomerate of everything we've seen, smelled and tasted here in France - and I'm transported back in time.

Charcuteries (meat), boulangeries (bread), patisseries (pastries), fromageries (cheese), and cafes (coffee) are all places the French simply run to as a part of their daily errands. Unlike in America where all your groceries are located within one large warehouse - these quaint shops were magic sanctums for us. The simple stucco buildings were draped in red and pink geraniums and accessorized with red-painted doors which opened onto a worldly dream.

Town of Artannes

Our manoir was located in the town of Artannes.  The butcher there was a very happy man and greeted every visitor with a hearty laugh and strong, meaningful, "Bonjour! Ha ha."  We visited him on several occasions  for ideas on what to 'create' (the key word in this sentence) for dinner.  Hmm?  What SHALL we make for dinner? Is it possible to gush over a display of meat? 

Through a series of single words sentences and elaborate and comical hand gestures we're able to communicate with one another. More than once I caught the locals in line behind us exchanging communication with their eyes. Likely thinking, "Alore... what's the big deal, they can't make a decision over a chicken?"

The boulanger sells bread.  She is open early in the morning, but I noticed steady stream of traffic in the late afternoon.  A couple of us were milling over which bread to bring home for dinner that night (decisions, decisions), when a young boy ran in.  He cut to the front of the line, placed his two-Euro on the counter and was automatically handed two baguettes and some change. He paused only briefly at the door where the shopkeeper had strategically placed a rack filled with "penny" candy.  Remembering he was sent on a mission he overcame his impulse, exited the shop, hopped on his bike and pedaled away - with the two baguettes neatly tucked underneath his arm.  I can't make this up - this IS France.   

In France - most businesses close for 2 hours over lunch.  As Americans traveling abroad you have to learn the art of waiting.  One afternoon we were too tired to do a lot of sightseeing so we wandered into our temporary township on foot. In a McDonalds, 24/7 society, we were somewhat disappointed to find everything closed...everything but the corner bar.  So this plucky group crossed the street and idled away an hour by throwing back a few beers and entertaining the locals.  It was clear we were the subject of town gossip, "...those crazy Americans - did you hear how much time it took them to make up their minds to buy a chicken?"  

The bar also serves as a cafe and a restaurant.  In the mornings a few of us would go for a walk, stop for a croissant at the boulangerie, then sit down to enjoy a cafe au lait.  One morning a couple of ladies seated inside were joined by a third.  They each stood to greet her, exchanging a kiss on each cheek.  Just like the movies.  While I couldn't understand what they were whispering I could tell it was the same subject matter as is likely discussed by women around the globe... what's not going right, what's been a surprise, what's worthy to celebrate.  

Bread is life, and from what I learned bread is also the social network of France.  In America we start our day on Facebook, at work we may Tweet about a sports score or political snafu.  In France... they begin their day at the boulangerie or cafe.  The shopkeeper shares an update on a sick neighbor or sends a friendly greeting home to another citizen by way of her children (her errand boys sent into town to pick up the bread for the evening dinner table.) Who needs technology when you've got a baguette network? 

Chagrin partagé, chagrin diminué; plaisir partagé, plaisir doublé.  Translation: Joy shared, joy doubled; sorrow shared, sorrow halved.  A lesson learned in France.  

Let the Games Begin

October 5, 2013

It is Saturday, and the last of the wayward travelers has arrived.  (Myself.)  

Immediately upon arrival, we discovered there would be some technological hurdles.  Some phones worked intermittently others not at all.  WiFi at the Manoir worked only if you were in the Kitchen.  

I know, I know... you're thinking, "Why do you need to check your email? You're in France!?"  Blech... alas we've grown dependent upon our social media.  (Also, let's face it.  The ability now to out-Facebook that friend who constantly posts photos of her Cheerios-covered, children...well is priceless.) 

Rest assured many photos were taken, and we promise to post the best ones on this blog.  Also, they will be divided into excursion chapters, so viewing will be easier.  

Home base - Manoir de la Mothe  

Lisa G.  coined a phrase to describe the Manoir, "a Chateau in delightful disrepair".  One needs to keep in mind that France is very old, and everything in it is likely to be old.  To be honest with the French Revolution and two world-wars, it's kind of a miracle there are any buildings left standing.  

As you stroll the grounds, you can definitely see the ghosts of what was once a lively, elegant, and stately home.  At one time it even hosted a dinner-theatre.  There are a number of out buildings on the property, including a gardener's cottage, stable, and other pens which may have housed animals. The owner boasted about a covered area for Ping Pong.  Which was true. Amusingly, the table is located outside the Manoir in what appears to be an old pool house.  It took us a couple of days to find the paddles and balls.  We never did play ping pong.

The house is located along a picturesque bend of a lazy river called L'indre. To access the river you must walk through the back yard, unlock a rickety old wooden gate, and cross a wooden footbridge to stand beside its banks.  There is an inlet which forms a natural pond which sits stagnant.  The pond is filled with Monet's lilies.  You can easily imagine the artist sitting in the grass, capturing the sparkles of afternoon sunlight upon a canvas.  The light truly is amazing here.

While many were prepared for a certain level of disrepair (as all of us have traveled abroad) we weren't prepared for the dinginess.  The house may have not been used in a while, because it smelled musty and furniture and things were oddly strune about. 

However, the ladies on this trip are creative and had the ingenuity to set about to spruce up and "merchandise" the house. They flung open windows and doors, moved furniture, rearranged the kitchen, trimmed dahlias from the garden and placed them in whatever vases they could find.  They filled the rooms with vibrant colored flowers and by the time I arrived, the manoir felt very welcoming.

The kitchen is ancient, the stove a bit fussy, and the dining table has suffered from years of neglect.  However, the minor glitches in the manoir's offerings have served to make the trip all the more adventurous.  Good thing this group isn't short on invention or humor.  We got to stretch the legs of our imaginations.  For example, having no linens to cover the unsightly dining table, we found a roll of butcher paper in a cupboard and one guest set out to decorate the surface with picturesque scenes using her box of watercolor paints.  Each night she painted a different scene.  We've discovered you can do a lot with a little imagination and some votive candles.

In the end we accomplished a very important goal, which was to enjoy each other's company, soak in the charm and beauty of the countryside, relish in the everyday workings of a French township, sit down to a delicious meal made from the freshest finds from the local markets - and revel in a day's adventures over a bottle of wine.  We're in France, and as they say, C'est la via!  (That's life.)