Les Bleds, part 2

Last week, I posted about my visit to a small bled: Bagnoles-de-l'Orne. But last week, I also visited another small town: Condé-sur-Noireau. If you ever come to Normandy, and see Condé-sur-Noireau on a map along some itinerary that you've charted out to, say, Mont St.-Michel, take my word: you don't need to stop. This small town is really a pass-through on the road between Caen and Flers, and is, well, rather simple... kind-of like Flers, actually. No fuss, no fancy, not even a cathedral to admire: just your typical tabacs and bars, and a few grocery stores, banks, and administrative buildings.

On the other hand, I had business in Condé, of the social type. It was my mid-week day off, and I was off to see my friend Lilly, one of the many wonderful acquaintances I've made since I've been in France. There's a bus that goes between Condé and Flers every week, and it only takes about 20 minutes to get there, including the stops. Briefly put, it isn't far, but it's too far to walk.

Lilly is one of the rare assistants I've met here who knows France, deeply and intimately, because she spent a whole year in an exchange program in Laval when she was in high school. She's also from New Jersey, which for me is as much another culture as France is, so getting to know her has been majorly interesting. I don't know any other American - or any other assistant, for that matter - who has had the opportunity to live in France as an adolescent. As a result, I consider Lilly sort-of half-French: French in all the best ways, and American in all the best ways.

Lilly, with her fantastic scarf

French in all the best ways, because Lilly eats French. She's a lacto-ovo vegetarian (who eats poultry and fish), which is great for me, because I'm not much of a carnophile myself. (Interesting fact: I myself was a lacto-ovo vegetarian in high school, until I discovered lamb). Thus the menu:

Carrottes râpées

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Roast Chicken and Potatoes

Bordeaux wine

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Salad

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Cheese and bread

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Chocolate mousse and strawberries 

I cannot even begin to explain to you how wonderful it was to share a leisurely lunch mid-week with a friend, over wine and characteristically delicious French bread, and talk of preparations for our upcoming trip to Scotland together (yes, you heard that right; look for a post about Scotland in April). Sharing a meal is one of the simplest pleasures in life, and I think the French really have it right to take a long time savouring it. The many courses, and the pauses in between them, are as much occasions to converse and exchange as they are invitations to take one's time, to stop rushing for a few hours (two, usually, for a French lunch), and to just relax and enjoy.

The Good Life ;)

After lunch, we took a walk through the countryside, which, unlike the town, really is worth seeing. It was a rare, clear, sunny, warm day in Normandy, with the bluest of blue skies, and the slightest breeze. Everywhere, trees and flowers were in bloom, and creeks overflowing with waters rushed into the valleys. We walked to the crest of the hills surrounding the town, and admired a view that, in the U.S., could normally be obtained only with a few-million dollars and a grand McMansion, or else a National Parks Authority pass.

French trees, in rows. I don't know why they do this, but I love it

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Dog and Goat are Friends (after one of my favourite books as a child, Frog and Toad are Friends)

 

View from the hills, across Normandy

Everything is blooming right now! Spring in France is LOVEly.

The park in Condé

Park

We ended our visit with coffee in the local bar, and a walk through the lovely park. A simple, easy day, to be sure, but sometimes those are the best kinds of memories.

Bus trip back to Flers

Almost home: with a spectacular view