Welcome to Heaven!

Well, we left Farmville earlier than expected. Our friends had been turned away at the Moroccan port of entry because they were driving an ambulance and foreign ambulances are not allowed in Morocco. What? All those medical supplies, all those blankets, all that clothing would never make it to the mountain Berbers who so desperately needed them. It was really sad and somewhat incomprehensible for all concerned.

So we bid adieu to Petunia, Lucy, Loupy, Sally, Mega, and Astrilla. I didn't even bother saying goodbye to the cats because, for one thing, they are cats. For another, they are so feral as to not even be named at Farmville, so I couldn't really say goodbye, could I? (Please do not judge someone until you have walked in their blue wellies.) The problem with leaving early from the farm was that Hunt was still doing work in the area. So many internment camps, so little time, etc., etc. So we packed our bags and moved our headquarters a few miles away to the city of Prades. And entered heaven.

Getting to heaven was somewhat tricky. We had a true Robert Frost moment as we sat poring over the map. Drive due west on the fairly straight and oft-traveled road or turn south and catch that cute little squiggly thing, the one “bent in the undergrowth”? Well, it wasn't bent from undergrowth, it was bent because it went over the Pyrenees, hugging the sides of the mountains in its desperate attempt to avoid sliding into the chasms below. We chose the road less taken. I rode on the death-side of the car, closest to eternity, and every time Hunt saw a beautiful tree or crag or waterfall or bug or whatever, he'd say, "Hey look at that," and turn the wheel slightly in the direction he was looking! It was a hair-raising, nail-biting, hyper-ventilating drive, though admittedly beautiful with all the colorful fall trees and tiny villages. And I am glad we survived so I could post a few pictures.

Goodbye civilization

Imagine crossing these by foot

DEATH staring up at me

The leaves were just beginning to turn

The pinnacle of our treacherous
winding mountain road

Hunt said something about how fabulous and exhilarating the drive was, and I replied with something about ripping a certain someone's heart out. But it was so long ago, I hardly remember. No matter. The important thing is that we arrived safely in Prades: Heaven in France.

We checked immediately into our B&B and were delighted at how charming and welcoming it was.

Angela and some of her paintings

Our proprietress, Angela, hailed from England, which was a wonderful thing because, one, her English was better than mine, and two, she brewed delicious tea which she served us straight away. (PG Tips, no less!) And she was friendly and very funny.  

Her house was decorated in antiques, lavish colors, and her own marvelous paintings.

Tea was served by the fire
in the front sitting room

Our very own chaise
lounge in our beautiful red room

View to the back garden
(and the Pyrenees)
from our room

Our bathroom had a 7' tub
and shower with
a view of Mount Canigou

Angela suggested a restaurant, and we went for a celebratory meal, Hunt celebrating his recent finds at the Rivesaltes internment camp site and me celebrating a pig-free evening. And what a meal it was!

Salad with melted goat's cheese atop
grilled eggplant, tomatoes, and red bell peppers

Grilled mussels

I regret that this sea bass had but one life to give for my supper

Hunt's grilled octopus and other interesting things

Our Floating Island had baked meringue 'floating' in vanilla custard and was garnished with toasted almonds, caramel sauce, and a cookie

Prades, France.
Welcome to heaven!