Journey to the center of France

 

They say that for every two Frenchmen, there are three opinions.  And one of the many things the French disagree about is where the center of France is located.  Some measure up the shores of the "hexagon", as mainland France is called, and then use geometry and maths to find the middle.  But others insist on adding Corsica's shores as well which complicates everything. 

However, "le centre de la France" is generally accepted to be in the Allier Department, on the confines of the Berry, Burgundy and Bourbonnais regions.  This last, birthplace of the Bourbon dynasty, is where Wijjie and I spent a stimulating weekend at the home of two dear friends, Christiane and Max.

 

 

On the way from Angers, we stopped to visit the town of Saumur, with its magnificent castle.  And their excellent wine is made from the very grapes ripening behind me!  But I think that Valentino is licking his lips over the remains of someone's "croque monsieur" he's seen on the ground.

 

 

The view from the Château de Saumur.  The Loire flows from right to left, in the picture.

We then had a very nice - and affordable - lunch at a roadside restaurant we discovered by chance a few years back.  "La Taverne d’Antoine" is on the road (Route Departementale 960, to be exact) between Saumur and Doué-la-Fontaine.  When leaving Saumur, head south towards Cholet.

This new-ish eating place is run by a young and inspired couple, brimming with pride and enthusiasm.  So if you have the chance, visit them before they become Troisgros-style media stars! 

Antoine - the chef - is from Lille, in the northeastern corner of France, and his speciality is "boeuf à la bière".  A cow's cheek is simmered all night long in black beer with predictable results...

This pleasant but unglamourous establishment (shown in the background, above) is also an outlet for local wine-makers.  The lady in the picture will be a mother soon, which explains her bulging middle...

 

Here I am enjoying "un verre de rouge de Saumur", my favourite Loire wine.  As for the meal we were served, I was so busy enjoying it that I forgot to take any pictures of the dishes!  Better luck next time...

After getting lost several times we stopped at the picturesque town of Loches (rhymes with lost, doesn't it?) to get some refreshment at a well-appointed tea shoppe run by two elegant gentlemen who are opera singers in real life.  That is, if you can call it "real"!

Valentino got his refreshment at the castle fountain.

After getting lost a few times more, we reached the village of Huriel, not far from the town of Montluçon. Christiane was born here and comes back every summer to stay in the family home.

Huriel is not a busy place, but has its own timeless charm... 

...and one of the beautiful 12th century churches for which the region is famous.

I met Max in the south of France.  As well as being an accomplished pianist and oil painter, he  taught at the Conservatory of Sète for many years. 

His favourite composer is Chopin and he has a piano in each of his three homes, which is why I like visiting him, wherever he is!  He was born and raised in Algeria, which he still thinks of as his homeland. Max is well known for his "orientalist" paintings of North African village scenes.

Christiane demonstrated for us her recently acquired mechanical viola, an antiquity which is played with a crank and a small keyboard.

We visited the church of Saint Desiré, said to be the most beautiful in the region

What I like most about rural France is that, before satisfying my physical needs at a country bistrot, I can satisfy my spiritual, or at least aesthetic, ones in a lovely medieval church...

We spent a few hours in the town of Herisson, with its ruined castle and romantic bridge...

...where we had a nap in the shade, while Valentino kept his eyes open for passing ducks.

Our friends invited us to lunch at "La Guinguette", on the shore of a tiny lake. The locally-raised beef tournedos and home-made blueberry pie were perfect.

We visited a country chapel, alone among the fields, which, it seems, has become fashionable among city folk for weddings.

On the way back to Angers, we stopped at the church of Vallon-en-Sully, with its pink granite façade...

...and grey granite steeple. 

I spent a summer near Vallon over 20 years ago, in a farmhouse where, one night during a storm, I was nearly struck by a lightning bolt.  The wall of my room lit up like a movie screen for a second, leaving me to muse, as I sniffed the smoke which wafted down from the attic, about "carpe diem" and the fragility of it all...

 

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