Le Mazel! (Part 2B - hello Cévennes!)

The first week was a whirlwind of fun and social/cultural activities, as well as getting acclimated to the farm and the routine there. I don't think I can remember all of it, but I want to describe the highlights here for all of you.

Walks with the dogs: In the evenings, until sunset, it became my custom that first week to take a walk with the two dogs. Zoltane, a big French shepherding dog, was wonderfully smart and she loved to find the biggest stick imaginable and run after and wrestle with you for it. She was quick to learn your tricks and then use one or two of her own. Nackisse was 5 months old at the time, and a loveable, mischievous little blond scruffy puppy. She had obviously injected a new playfulness into Zoltane. They were always up for a walk, and had a lot of fun running around after each other, usually with a stick of some kind. Every so often I'd throw it, but they were pretty content to play with each other somewhere nearby while I strolled. They would run out ahead of me, and then wait for me to catch up. I wandered all round the hiking trails near the house, and up the road a ways. The views were fabulous, and I could see the house back over the hill, as it got smaller. The rocks were many-colored and soft in the road cuts, and I began to learn my way around. I love the way the late afternoon and early evening light would color the landscape. It was so quiet. The silence of the woods there was so loud, so present.

Hiking in the Cévennes! : The Wednesday of that week, I went out on a wonderful hike with my host, Brigitte - with a hiking group that she's in. We hiked up the Mt. Brion, in the 'Forêt Dominale de la Vallée Borgne' (which is, they said, an archaic word for 'springs' - and there were a lot of them, pouring out of the mountain as we hiked along the road and the trails!). We saw an example of a 'clède' - a stone structure built on mountainsides in the area for drying fresh-picked chestnuts during the Fall harvest. Built using the slope of the hillside, the upper level would hold the chestnuts, and the lower level is where they would build a fire. The fire would heat and de-humidify the chestnuts above - and people discussed a delicious, hearty traditional soup that the local people would make and eat from the chestnut flour produced in the region. It was hearty enough to keep people from starving when times were tough and there was little to nothing else to eat. There were also many ruins of grand old houses and terraced grounds. One in particular was a small collection of houses built together that some people had begun to renovate. Now in dis-use, there were nonetheless some solar panels on the side of the tall, 'cévenole' stone house that captured some of the sun's energy that hit its heights - and a meterological instrument nearby that was collecting data. We also saw one of the oldest bridges along the 'Gardon' river (one arm of the River Gard that eventually runs under the Roman Aqueduct known as the 'Pont du Gard' - 'Bridge of the Gard'). After a long and meandering hike around the area, and up a steep(!) incline up to the top of Mt. Brion - we got to stop and eat our picnic lunch. In fine French style, there was coffee, and apéritifs and chocolate and treats to share around - and much lively conversation. It was a wonderful day, and a great opportunity to get to talk to a lot of wonderful, interesting, warm people. Thank you, Brigitte!

Where is Nackisse?? That evening, we came back and couldn't find Nackisse, the younger of the two dogs. As she was still a puppy, we were worried. Brigitte especially so. We went all over the area right around the house, down to the village nearby - Les Egladines - and all around the Col d'Uglas, where the hiking trails cross the road near le Mazel.  We visited the farm where her mother lives. The whole time we were calling - 'Naaaackiisse!' When it got dark, we had to give up and go back to the house, hoping that she was okay, and we'd find her in the morning.

That evening, there were two musicians who came to spend the night at the 'gîte d'étappe' at Le Mazel. They were taking advantage of the "table d'hôte" option, and having dinner prepared for them (with us). It was a very nice way to end a long day (and relieve a little stress from Nackisse being lost) - and after great conversation at dinner, we went into the living room and made a fire, and they played for us. Ahhhh.... :-) Lovely! What a great way to end the day... so warm, down to earth, and it filled us (all, I think) with that heart-satisfying feeling of time spent among kindred spirits and friends.

Anduze hike/Nackisse found! : The next day, Brigitte needed to go into the nearby (larger) town of Anduze. I had gone through Anduze (see description in earlier post!) on the bus to get to St. Jean du Gard (where I had been picked up) - and I was excited to go back and explore, as it had made an impression on me. It is called 'La Porte des Cévennes' (the door to the Cévennes) with good reason. It is nestled at the edge of an expanse of a fairly flat area, right up against the first of the mountains in the Cévennes - striking slanting cliffs of white stone capped and lined with green, rising up on either side of the Gardon river with just enough room between them for the river and road to wind through and a few houses nestled up against the cliffs.

While Brigitte had some errands to run, and now knowing that I liked to hike, she showed me the trail head for the path that led up the steep, impressive cliffs - to where you could look out over all Anduze, and beyond it, to the countryside that spread out along the Gardon river meandering from this doorway out of the mountainous cévenole landscape towards Nîmes.

It was breathtaking, and exhilarating, winding my way up through the rocky landscape - sometimes scrambling, sometimes walking along the eroding seams of side-turned rock layers. And always following the path-markings carefully painted on the rocks - constantly delighted by the plants and views I saw along the way. It filled me with nothing short of triumph, and wonder.

When I descended into town, after some more exploring, I met Brigitte in the heart of town, near the famous clock tower. She had good news as we were leaving - Nackisse had been found! Brigitte got a call from the hiker from my first full day - the good-natured puppy had followed her on her hike, and didn't want to double back when she realized what was happening. She had been unable to call Brigitte until then. Plans were made to get her back home.

Sad news from the U.S. : The ride home was made in good cheer with this news.  When we got back, there was a message for me from my brother. He wanted me to call him asap. When I did, I learned that my maternal grandmother, who had been ailing, had passed away. There was a memorial being planned for a weekend when I was supposed to still be in France. My other two brothers, who live in England, were planning to leave the next weekend - and I had a hard decision to make: whether or not I wanted to try to come back for the Memorial. It was a sad and difficult thing to learn, and to have to decide.

Three things made this news, and this decision, more bearable, and more clear. Firstly - Brigitte's words/wisdom: 'Souvent, avec le soir arrive la calme.' (Often, with the evening, comes peace/calm). She suggested I take a walk, as was my habit. Also a conversation with my Aunt (my mother's sister, and the daughter of my grandma who had passed away); she suggested that I find a peaceful place, and 'talk' to my Grandma's spirit. See if she had anything to say. She also helped me to realize that everyone that I would want to see - even family that we didn't see very often - I had visited with already this year. And that knowing Grandma, she would probably never want me to cut short such a fantastic experience for her sake...

Thirdly, it was the dogs. I went out on my walk, hoping to be alone - but sure enough, the dogs were as rambunctious as ever. I was a little peeved by them, at first - I was emotional, and just wanting some quiet, peaceful place to mull things over. Well, I soon reconciled - and then welcomed - their presence. The late sun shone golden on a spot along the old road I was following. It invited me to sit there, and bask in its glow. I did. I spoke out loud, after some reflection - as the dogs were doing their usual playing nearby - I asked: 'What should I do, Grandma?' with tears in my eyes. And then, Zoltane came up to me, gently put her paw on my leg, and pressed her weight into it. It took me a minute to believe this had happened, just like that. I started to doubt it... and then remembered that my Grandma had always had a deep and abiding affection and respect for dogs. I felt asked to stay by the dogs, whom I already loved, and late afternoon sun, shining golden on me, and embracing me with its warmth. It was a hard decision to come to... but these three things pointed me in the right direction.

I am eternally grateful for Brigitte, and the dogs of Le Mazel, and my Aunt and family, who gave me the permission to stay, and have this wonderful experience.

[More posts to follow on my remaining time at Le Mazel, and my other visits in France before returning home, though they will likely not be in the proper order. They will, however, be charming and well-written :) - Katydid 2/2/13]

Grandma passed away