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Hidden Treasures

6/21/2016

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Who can forget the wisdom of Joni Mitchell's 60's sonnet
"Big Yellow Taxi":

"Don't it always seem to go
that you don't know
what you've got 'til it's gone..."


Truer words have not been spoken. 
  In these frenzied, often absurd times it's the simple times,
the quiet, peaceful and innocent days that we miss the most.

Traveling though France, many of my favorite not-so-secret places are
villages and out-of-the-way spots that have nearly evaporated,
their legacy slowly turning to dust in bits and pieces.
  Often achingly beautiful, these locales may first appear to be deserted
or unloved but don't be lulled into passing them by.
  There's something warm and familiar in these discoveries, endowed
with an ability to bridge the gap between our selfish lust for more
and our deepest craving to get back to the basics.

Don't get me wrong -- I personally don't want to go back to the
"good old days"-- which I don't really think were all that good -- but I do
believe there is something magical about taking a step back in time where
you feel as if the world has stopped -- even if it's just for half a day.

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep,
and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep."
Robert Frost, American poet

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It's one of life's ironies, I guess, but it seems the most gentle and peaceful
 places these days were once hotbeds of uncertainty and controversy.
 Alone and exposed, La Couvertoirade is one of those lost places,
its population now shriveled to fewer than 200 souls.

Situated on the spectacular Larzac Plateau in the stunning
Aveyron department of lovely Languedoc, the fortified village is a
lasting legacy of the Knights Templar, the dogmatic religious order
that once ruled the roost in these parts.
Surviving long past its former occupiers, La Couvertoirade's hefty stone walls
are capped by natural stone roofs made to throw off winter's snowfall.

Peeking into the life of centuries old France is always a pleasure,
particularly when it's as intimate a look as this one.
 Walking the nearly empty streets of La Couvertoirade,
it was easy to imagine life centuries ago, when crusades,
warrior monks and papal charters were part of every day life.


Situated not far from Millau -- don't miss its spectacular
bridge -- A Tale of Two Bridges -- La Couvertoirade is a perfect stopover
that will leave you feeling as if you've crossed into the Twilight Zone. 
In the churchyard, odd gravestones add to the mystery,
contributing to the engaging and legendary Templar enigma.

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The Knights Templar, a complex military-religious-political order,
has inspired countless novels and debate over the years.
These crusading cavaliers had oodles of money, their
  rich reward for supporting and protecting the lords and ladies
of France through many dark and dangerous years.

Flush with cash until their luck with the king ran dry, their assets are
 revealed in the beautiful manor houses that dot the town's center.
Take some time to visit the craft shops whose proprietors & artists brandish
 centuries old skills such as pottery making and the art of weaving textiles.

The well preserved town center enjoys a bit of whimsy, too,
its official emblem attached to many ancient doorways.
  The cardabelle, a flower that's sometimes called a shepherd's barometer,
is not just an enchanting bit of floral decoration.
  Local shepherds claim it can predict the weather, opening wide for
sunny skies and closing tight before the weather turns ugly.
  This being France, you can eat part of it too, though I'd recommend you
don't attempt that with any of the dried variety you see on the doors!
  Resembling a cross between a sunflower, a dandelion and an artichoke,
  it suits the untamed atmosphere of this historic neighborhood.

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Lady Luck paid us a visit the day we experienced La Couvertoirade.
  We got to roam the village practically tourist free. 
It added to the mystery of the place, reminding us
of a deserted ghost-town in those old tv westerns.

  That's one of the best things about slow travel, the chance to truly get away
from it all and get back to nature and a world long gone by.
  It reminds us that one day, our civilization, too, will be considered archaic
and odd, a fun chance to look back to the past while thinking about the future.

"Give me spots on my apples but leave me the birds and the bees."
Joni Mitchell

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Hundreds of miles away from La Couvertoirade, the radiant Atlantic Coast
is a great spot for anyone seeking a soothing hideaway. 
Just inland, the Marais Poitevin, known as the Green Venice of France,
is not well known to many overseas travelers, secluded between
more well known destinations such as Les Sables-d'Olonne and Poitiers.

  On our way from La Rochelle to Brittany, we made a quick stopover
in pretty Coulon, one of the treasured villages of the peaceful province.
  Lunch and a boat ride sounded like a good way to break up a long road trip.

There is something special about looking at water, particularly when you're comfortably ensconced on a flower bedecked auberge terrace,
sipping local wine and considering the menu du jour.
  Aaah, this is what travel is all about -- and the fact that they offer the locally
famous mojette bean (much more exciting than it sounds) made it that much better.
Freshwater eels are a popular menu item, too, if you aren't too squeamish to try.

Dubbed one of the "prettiest villages in France", Coulon is a waterside retreat
swimming in restaurants, shops and whitewashed homes that will make you
wonder why you've never heard of this watery green riviera in western France. 
This town is a great place to begin your journey,
a launch pad for a sensational aquatic discovery filled with
croaking frogs, dragonflies, ducks and egrets.

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Canals, dykes and lazy rivers trace their way around this retreat,
ready-made for a guided excursion on the traditional boats of the area.
  Called barques, these flat bottomed vessels ease you into the murky water -- 
softly, slowly, while a guide winds his way through the green duckweed of the canal.
The welcome silence and filtered light is an experience you won't soon forget.

Located in the Deux Sevres department, the Marais Poitevin is
an area renowned for its rivers, mild climate and specialty
herb -- angelica -- rock star of the flowering plant world.
  Held in high regard in ancient folklore as well as modern herbalists,
angelica seems to be the antidote to just about everything.
The aromatic herb is used to combat a variety of ailments from typhus to dog
bites and is particularly valued for its woodsy aroma in liquers and hops.
  Ancient wisdom claims it cured the plague, heartburn and insomnia --
besting my own 5 o'clock cure for all that aches and aggravates....

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Getting away from it all from time to time just flat out
feels good -- and don't you deserve it?
You'll feel a marked sense of improvement in your frame of mind,
  renewing an almost forgotten sense of pleasure, well-being and delight.
  Some folks choose a beach, others choose the mountains or a national park.
  You may look for luxury or just the opposite -- it doesn't really matter.

But whatever you do, please consider the astonishing choices in
fantastic France, where little miracles are in abundance every day of the year.

"Contentment is the only real wealth."
Alfred Nobel, Swedish scientist & inventor

I could offer a list of getaways a mile long;
there are so many wonderful choices. 
What's your favorite?

I, too, have miles to go before I sleep.

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There are a lot of ways to get away from it all.
Sometimes we have to put our dreams on hold but don't let that stop you.
  It can be as simple as running to T.J. Maxx and getting the t-shirt.

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All Signs Lead to Paris

6/10/2016

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 The path to Paris is a road that leads to that certain little
"je ne sais quoi"
you've heard about again and again.
  
What exactly is this indescribable essence of Paris that is so
 hard to explain to someone who has never experienced the french capital?
I think 'it" is that special connection, the one that always brings a
bright smile to your face and a warmth to your soul.
  "It" may be the relationship between what you're already
familiar with and what is yet to be discovered.
  Just like when you first see a Monet painting, you get a rush of
emotion that stretches the imagination and all its God given
possibilities every time you think of "it".

My husband easily recognizes the symptoms of Paris fever.
  I see the City of Light in all that surrounds me.
  A rainbow pops up -- "Remember that time we saw one in Paris...It's a sign!"
 Channel surfing, an old movie whispers to me -- Paris, Paris...
  Bien sur, it's a sign and it's fair to say I can read "sign" language.
Crazier still, if I'm already in a state of Paris 911 emergency and
someone mentions a song, a name, a dream, a baguette -- whatever --
I get all worked up as if it's a direct message from the Universe.

  Coincidence or magic?
 Whatever you choose to call it -- predestination or fate -- it's
a reminder that you can't waste one more minute sitting still.
  Get your buns to Paris and get them there now.

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When we finally get there, we're determined to use all
1440 minutes of the day to make it count.
The happiness of returning to Paris
feels like the discovery of a long lost love.

But it always makes me wonder,
what if I had first fallen in love with Lisbon or Ljubljana?
 From Brussels to Budapest, I've seen a lot of world capitals --
but of course it's Paris that has marked me for life.

It's the "what ifs" that have me thinking out loud.
What if I had never seen the gilded luxury of the Opera Garnier?
Or the imperial lineup of queens in Luxembourg Gardens?
What if I didn't know what it was like to get goose bumps
over the utterly delectable hot chocolate at Jacques Genin?

Too tragic to contemplate, I'll just be grateful that
I get "it" and will always come back for more.

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CHOICE versus CHANCE,
those are lessons learned from years on the road.
  The control freak in me often rears its dictatorial head
with too much pre-planning and hand-wringing.
When will I learn from time to time Mademoiselle Fate has it in for me and I
 can't expect clear skies just because I want to ride a bike along the canal?
  But then again, that same Mademoiselle is the clever one who introduces
me to a charming dining companion at Chartier or talks the waiter into
bringing a different type of oyster -- "just to 'ave a leetle taste."

It comes down to this, while it's important to choose the right path -- accept
in good faith that it's okay to get off course from time to time.
Reinterpret your day and soon you'll see,
the changes forced upon you can be a good thing.
I choose the infinite possibilities of Paris but am happy
to take my chances on the uncertain weather - or transportation
strikes - or, God forbid, threats of terrorism.

  Every day your life starts all over and you get
just one life (maybe) to get it right.
  Not perfect, just the best you can do -- and that's usually
a balance between choice and chance.

"It's your road and yours alone.
  Others may walk it with you, but no one can walk it for you."
Rumi, 13th century Persian poet

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One thing is without question.
  When you love Paris, it loves you back.
So there's really no reason for me to wonder -- what if?
That's like wondering what if I hadn't given birth to my precious daughter,
the thought too horrible to consider.
What if I had a son instead?
OK, that might be good -- but not good enough given that
I know how great it is to have a daughter.

That's how it is with Paris. 
No ifs ands or buts about "it".
We know just how good it can be.

And that's one road map I'm glad I followed.
Say the magic words -- Let's go to Paris.
Yes, that's a sign I can read in any language.

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Chasing Cowboys & Cadillacs in Provence

6/1/2016

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A Sunday afternoon drive is always a good idea. 
A Sunday afternoon drive in Provence is priceless.
You never know what lurks around the next corner... 

 We left our home-away-from-home in Saint-Remy-de-Provence just
after breakfast, resolving not to get side-tracked by the tempting array
of antique shops, olive oil mills and vineyards along the route.

  Our pre-determined destination was Pernes-les-Fontaines, long
distinguished for their charming claim-to-fame -- fountains -- a 
staggering forty fountains in just one tiny town of fewer than 12,000 people.

Fountains in Provence have a long and lofty history.
First engineered by the prolific Romans in the 1st and 2nd centuries A.D.,
they are front and center of most historic towns in the region.
But most towns boast just a handful so we were
curious about a borough that flaunted forty of them.

  So one sunny summer day in May, we chose the scenic route (of course!)
and  zig-zagged through the back roads,
pausing only to let a flock of sheep and goats pass by.
Before long we found ourselves in the lovely watery landscape
of  Pernes-les-Fontaines.

In typical french fashion, we were surprised by our own good fortune.
Sure, there were fountains - a marvelously diverse collection, as promised.
But as luck would have it, we had stumbled upon a local celebration -- one
that left us in stitches and aching for more.
 To our wide-eyed amazement, innstead of gawking at medieval walls and reinforced fortifications, we were treated to a day of all things American.
Cowboys and convicts, Harleys and hamburgers, classic American cars
and a band playing rockabilly, it was a day to celebrate the red white & blue.
Yes, 3,000 miles from the shores of the U.S.A, it felt like the 4th of July.

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Our search for the vivid colors and history of characteristic Provence led us to
 a sliver of a world known by few -- spontaneous and unpredictable -- a
 perfect addition to our already fun adventures in the area.

  This was not a regional festival or a holiday merchandising effort.
  It was just an honest-to-goodness block party that brought everyone out to enjoy
the inherent blessings of an enchanting town on a beautiful Sunday in May.
Families that play together stay together and in Pernes-les-Fontaines,
you could fill the pages of a homecoming scrapbook.

  We engaged with the locals on their level, making this particular stop a
 tour de force -- and part situation comedy -- of good times and friendly people.
  Joking, flirting, dancing and singing, the welcome mat was laid out for all.

  They didn't seem too worried that we Americans might be judging
their American fete -- but then again, it was getting close to lunchtime
when all good french men and women have more important things on their mind.

"There are some days when I think I am going to die from an overdose of satisfaction."
Salvatore Dali

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When in France, lunch is always my favorite time of day. 
When in Provence, whether you choose a fine bistro or a local hole-in-the-wall,
you can always expect something fantastic on your plate. 

We chose Café de la Place, hoping for a traditional Sunday lunch.
A terrace overflowing with locals, it seemed
like a good gamble -- and we weren't disappointed.

  Would-be cowboys and cowgirls were camped out waiting
for their prix fixe options - chicken or duck - although we noticed
quite a few diners tucking into Texas-sized steaks.
Influenced perhaps by all that broad-shouldered Wild West bravado in the air....

Dessert was a homemade masterpiece, a Provencal medley of
chocolate and orange that looked as good as it tasted.
  All washed down with a chilled rose, it was what Sundays in Provence should be.

The Wild West may be a cliched view of America born of old movies
but there is nothing cliched about Sunday lunch in France.

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Back to the main reason we stopped in Pernes-les-Fontaines. 
I found the fountains intriguing but readily admit we didn't
chase down all forty of them -- or even come close.
  Aided by an enthusiastic "volunteer" who insisted she could blaze a trail,
we were treated to an over-the-top rendition of "La Vie en Rose" rather
than a knowledgeable search for the town's historic legacy.

  But that's okay.
Sometimes it's good to re-wire your expectations.
  After all, it's people and interactions
that make for some of the best travel memories.
  All in all, it was a memorable stop, one that reminded us that the best
trips are those filled with surprise and personality.

"To me, adventure has always been to me the connections and bounds you create with people when you're there. And you can have that anywhere."
Bear Grylls, British Adventurer

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Please don't come here expecting the fountains of Versailles. 
Pernes-les-Fontaines is home to smaller, more modest water displays,
many without any H20 remaining other than last night's rainfall.
 
Styles range from classic face carvings to modest stone troughs
and everything in between.
  The tourist office has a map you can follow if you're keen to see them all.
Keep a look out for the town's other attractions such as the medieval Ferrande
   Tower (frescoes!), a covered market (dating to the 17th C.), as well as scores
  of defensive walls and gates, some dating as far back as the 11th  century.

  If you climb to the top of the Tour de l'Horloge, you'll be treated to amazing
vistas of the surrounding countryside, including the rugged Vaucluse Mountains.
  The Conservatoire du Costume Comtadin is a museum that focuses on a 19th century draper's shop filled with period costumes & accessories of a long ago time.
This little town even boasts a full-on festival in August called the Font'Arts,
Pernes being the perfect stage for a musical and theatrical spectacle.

And of course, if you don't get enough of your Provence on here, you're
 just a few short miles away from two other amazing towns - Isle-sur-la-Sorgue
(antiques galore!) and Cavaillon ( the capital of melons!). 
You really can't make a wrong turn in this part of southeastern France.

"A Sunday well spent brings a week of content."
Proverb

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We went looking for a sleepy little town full of charm. 
We found that and then some.
  In the end, we discovered a simple truth. 
The best adventures happen when you least expect them. 

Chasing cowboys and Cadillacs in the middle of Provence is not a bad
way to spend
a̶ ̶r̶e̶l̶a̶x̶i̶n̶g̶  an audacious Sunday in southeastern France.
Pernes-les-Fontaines is a fountain of surprises.
As I always say, go with the flow.

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    AUTHOR
    MICHELLE MOGGIO

    Thanks for visiting  my blog!

    I've been experiencing the joys of Paris since the ripe old age of eleven.
    As a big fan of duck fat, raw oysters and bad French movies, my long career in advertising helped pave the way for drinking at lunch. When not living la vie en rose, my husband Gary and I live in Brentwood, TN, where we stay busy planning our next travel adventure and offering unsolicited advice to our daughter.

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    Place Des Vosges
    Place Masséna
    Place Stanislaus
    Place Vendome
    Ploumanac'h
    Poilane
    Ponr Alexandre III
    Poster Art
    Promenade Des Anglais
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    #Provence
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    Regional Cooking
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    Ruelle Des Chats
    Rue Montorgeuil
    Ruth
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    Sainteustache
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    Saint-Vincent Cemetery
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    Serendipity
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    Sliceoflife
    Slice Of Life
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    Square Des Peupliers
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    St Nicholas Russian Orthodox Cathedral
    Street Food
    Suzanne Valadon
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    Sylvia Beach
    Texas
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    The Hunchback Of Notre Dame
    The Louvre
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    Toulouse
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    Travel
    Travel Advice
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    Troyes
    U.N. World Climate Conference
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    Vel D'Hiver
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    Walking
    Walking Paris
    Willi Ronis
    Wine
    Wine Festival
    WWII
    #WWII France
    WWII Paris
    WWII Provence
    Yachts
    Yves Saint Laurent

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