Day 6....
We had a leisurely breakfast, settled our bill, and took another round of photos of Le Vallon. Fred joked with us to please leave some wine in France when we mentioned our plans to stop in Chateneauf des Papes on our eternal search to find a cave that ships to the US. We laughed and agreed to leave enough behind for everyone else. Then we bid our gracious hosts adieu, until next year.
Our stop at Chateneauf was brief. We searched in vain for the cave we visited last year...where we both remembered being told shipping to the US was possible. Or maybe that memory was a dream, sprung from hope, who knows. We just wanted to bring home a bit of France with us, so that over the year, we could open a bottle on special occasions and be transported back to this enchanting place. And with the new flight security regulations banning liquids in carry-on, we were nervous about packing bottles in our checked luggage. Eventually, we wandered into another little cave, where the very funny and charming salesman lead us through a brief degustation of Chateneauf wines. Even though he valiantly tried to sell us a case, proclaiming "everyday is a special occasion, especially when on vacation!", we only opted for two beautiful floral whites (hard to come by in the US, as white only makes up 4% of the Chateneauf output) and one 'big' red that would reach it's full potential in a few years.
Treasures secured, more than enough wine left in France for the French and other wine loving tourists, we hopped back into the car and headed west towards the Cevennes. We decided to drive straight through, bypassing Pont du Gard and pretty Uzes, since we had visited both before, in hopes of discovering another little gem along the way. We finally stopped at a roadside aeire on the N106, somewhere near La Grande Combe, to stretch our legs and enjoy a little picnic lunch. Even though we were bounded by beautiful mountains on either side, being by the highway wasn't the most idyllic spot. Still, it was fun to have cyclists and truckers alike wish us a 'bon repast' as they passed us by. Towards the end of our petit dejeuner, we noticed that an impeccably dressed old man and his dog had come down to watch us through the wire fence that lined the wooded property above us. Every time we looked his way, a big smile would spread across his face and would give us little a wave, as if to say, 'Your enjoyment of your meal is my pleasure too". As we got back in the car, he bid us adieu and un bon journee and we bid him un bon sejours.
So close, yet still another hour to our destination. Last year, I think my husband and I had nearly 10,000 heart attacks combined driving to Mas De Lou Albeihs. I remember seeing hundreds of wooden silhouettes lining the highway, marking places where motorists had met their untimely deaths. Maybe my imagination was in overdrive last year (in response to warnings about the dangerous roads), since we only managed to spot a few this time.
We turned off the highway and up into the mountains.
This was the part that produced the most heart attacks last year, since we took the tiny D13 road that my husband thought would be a 'fun' shortcut. Just picture a mountain road, with no guardrails, wide enough for one car to drive along, intermittently unpredictable cars and trucks coming from the other direction, and lots of blind curves. Needless to say, I had no trouble convincing DH to try another road this time. So we opted for the D984, at Col de Jacreste for our ascent. Soooo much better! Or maybe we'd both been inured after last year's adventure. I was even able to enjoy looking out over the valley without envisioning being blindsided by another car and tumbling to an untimely demise on the valley floor.
When we finally arrived at Mas de Lou Albeihs, Julien greeted us warmly and we spent the next few minutes catching up. I wanted to say hello to his wife, Clothilde. Julien told us she was in Ales with their son, to see Spiderman 3 and would return a little later. Next, I asked about their dog...who had been our most excellent companion on last year's hike. With a mischievous smile, Julien held a finger in the air, quipped 'un moment' and then clapped his hands as he called out "Bibou, bibou, bibou". And quelle suprise....from the house, came running a baby lamb! His little tail was swishing a mile a minute as I clapped my hands and giggled with glee.
OK...I'm a geek and I'm in heaven. I have a friend who makes a yearly pilgrimage to hug a baby lamb each spring. As Bibou nuzzled up to me and licked my face, I completely understood my friend's lamb hugging obsession. Everyone should hug a baby lamb! Julien allowed me to feed Bibou his bottle of milk, which Bibou promptly sucked down in one minute and quickly followed with three more. Bibou's mother had rejected him, and now he was being raised by Julien and Clothilde. Even though Bibou was a mouton (male sheep), which are raised for their meat, Julien assured me that Bibou would not be some one's future dinner. They were going to raise and keep him for educational purposes. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I was giddy and delirious with baby lamb love, when Julien led us around the corner of the house for yet another surprise. On an old wooden bench under the kitchen window, was their cat (who I nicknamed Mignon) sleeping with her three eight week old baby kittens. Heaven just got better! Here we were, in these beautiful mountains, at this great gite, surrounded by baby animals...and we're in France. We spent the rest of afternoon studying some french, soaking up the views, and of course...playing with the kittens.
Chlothilde and her son returned from Ales. We watched with amusement as her son bounced about the side of the mountain, still brimming with excitement from the movie.
At 730pm, we all gathered for apertifs of Lychee vodka and saucissons sec in the dining room before dinner, since the evening air was too chilly to sit outside. We were joined by two other couples, one from Switzerland and the other from England, both named Barbara and Michael.
Meals at Lou Albeihs are something we look forward to with heartfelt anticipation. For one, they are just damn delicious. Not in a haute cuisine kind of way way, but more like home cooking with a twist. Nothing pretentious, but everything so creative and full of wonderful flavors- and always paying hommage to the terroir of the Cevennes. And of course, we also look forward to an evening of conversation with our hosts and the other guests.
Our dinner began with individual mustard quiches, which arrived at the table fresh from the oven. The contrast of the grain and spice of the mustard against the creaminess of the eggs was a tasty surprise.
For our main course, we were served sanglier (wild boar) meatballs in a tomato sauce with a wild green that was similar to spinach- but with more of a peppery bite. It was accompanied by a puree of potatoes and chestnuts and a salad. Who would have thought the addition of chestnut puree to mashed potatoes would create such a rich and satisfying dish? And the meatballs were so full of flavor and lean, wonderfully complimented by the tomato sauce.
Conversation flowed effortlessly, as we talked about our backgrounds, travels to different countries, and our shared love of France. Second helpings were eaten and red wine flowed freely. And finally, came dessert- a creamy chocolate pudding flavored with fresh orange peel. As we scraped our bowls clean of every last delicious drop of pudding, we all paid our compliments to the chef of the evening, Julien, for another wonderfully orchestrated meal before trundling off to bed.
Well, most went to bed. I confess DH and I stayed up for another hour or so...playing with the kittens, of course!
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