Anniversary Outings

 On Wednesday, Earl and I celebrated our 31st anniversary. "Celebrated" is a bit of an overblown statement. 

The highlight of the day came in the afternoon, following a few hours of teaching. Jim and Theresa picked us up in their VW Golf with the snazzy red mirrors and we zoomed about 45 minutes south of here to Maury. Well, past Maury and the more heavily visited wineries there to MA, Mas Amiel, another winery, with a difference. 

The winery has jugs, known as dame Jeanne, setting outside in the sun. I'd always thought the sun was bad for wine, but apparently this winery has different theories. We would be the judge of that!

The dame Jeanne wine jugs sitting in the sun.

Vineyards and wine jugs and the hills beyond. 

We wandered in and looked around the showroom before walking up to the counter. Most tasting rooms have wine stewards who speak English, and this one did as well, although he got hung up a few times and we encouraged him to say it in French, thinking we would still understand. They usually ask what kind of wine we like. They serve the wine from weakest to strongest taste, so usually whites and rosés, first, followed by reds. Earl and I are red wine drinkers, but we have been won over by a few rosés lately. 

Post tasting. After each wine, we swish the water in our glass and pour it into the bowl. 

He started us with a mellow rosé. I've found that people frequently want a rosé in the summer, so knew we would buy a bottle for 8,90 euros. Then he moved onto fortified wines. Fortified wines are similar to port, they are mixed with other, stronger alcohol. The fortified white would work well as an aperitif. 

The four of us. 

The fortified red we tasted first, although it had Theresa's favorite label, purple and blue, did not win us over. A 2012 fortified wine was so smooth, but pricey. 

Then we moved on to the oxidized wines, those that sit out in the sun. They were labeled for their age --20 years old, 30 years old, 69 from grapes grown in the late 60s. The 20 tasted good. The 30 tasted like raisins. But the 69, oh, the 69, tasted like heaven in my mouth. 

The wine steward did a good job selling it, pointing out that it's like buying a good bottle of whiskey, you only drink a little and on special occasions. It lasts for years. 

As we were checking out, the steward gave us a gift of a bottle of wine since it was our anniversary. I figured it was a throw-away bottle they kept to hand out free, but Jim found it on the list and pointed out it was a 30 euro bottle of wine. That might not be much to spend on wine in the States, but anything over 10 euros seems expensive when you live in the land of free flowing, inexpensive wine. 

Chairs outside the tasting room. 

Us outside the tasting room

We drove home through the sunshine, admiring the mountains and the endless undulation of trees around us.

The lane leading up to the winery.

 We stopped to harass our friend Steve who we saw along the side of the road preparing for a time trial on his bicycle. It's fun to run into friends miles away from home. 

Then we walked to a nearby restaurant for a simple meal with Jim and Theresa, sitting inside because the weather had taken a turn to the chilly. 

Not a bad way to celebrate living in France and that day 31 years ago we pledged our love in front of our friends and family.  

Birthday Extravaganza

I should point out that our area of France hasn’t seen cases of Covid for quite awhile, according to a doctor friend. That’s why we feel fairly free to spend time together. We still limit gatherings and try to meet outside. 

Birthday hats on the beach

 If I were in the States for my birthday, back in my old life, I probably would have gone to work for the day. My work friends on Facebook might have said "Happy birthday." Perhaps my husband would have come home early from work and we would have walked to a nearby restaurant for a drink and delicious cheesy biscuits before going home to celebrate with my adult children. That would have been the hoopla surrounding my birthday. Nothing to complain about, really. 

But now, I live in France and I control my work schedule. I took the entire day off work. 

I got up and went for a run. 

Post run pic for my running friends

I walked to the bakery and bought too many pastries so we could have brunch with Jules and Jack at our place. 

Just a representative sample

In the afternoon, I went hiking with Jo and Tina at the green labyrinth in Nebias. 

You can see where it gets its name

Everything covered with moss feels mystical.

I'd been there before, but only hiked one section. This time, through a bit of exploring, I learned there are two other sections and we ended up hiking for about three hours. 

At one point, we sat on giant rocks and drank hot chocolate with amaretto, thanks to Jo. 

We also had a brief conversation with a Frenchman who was cutting pine branches in the forest. He started making a lot of excuses for his actions and then decided he was a bit of a shaman who could heal any of our ails. 

He instructed both Tina and Jo to swing their arms back and forth, to bend down and touch their toes, to count to 20 in French while he walked in a circle. He claimed to heal stiffness that they didn’t have. 

Strange Frenchman whose directions apparently needed to be followed.

The green labyrinth is supposed to be a place of mystery so we named the man “the gnome” and accepted it as part of the magic of the labyrinth. 

When we returned home, we had some blanquette (a sparkling wine made in the region) and millefeuille. Lou and Steve came by with a bottle of wine as a gift and joined us for a drink. Everyone left to get home before curfew, just as our dinner guests arrived. 

Sue and Steve spent the night so they didn’t have to worry about getting home before the 6 pm curfew. Derrick and Kris joined us with their dogs. They’re allowed to walk their dogs after curfew so can stay late, closer to a realistic dinner time.

I got to speak with all of my kids and my parents, so that helped make the day special, too. 

But my birthday didn’t end that day. The next day we joined  Theresa and Jim and traveled to l’aqueduc d’Ansignan, an old Roman aqueduct. 

A bat on the ceiling, I think

Amazing 3rd century construction

Theresa and Jim had made some paper boats to race in the aqueduct but there was no water in it. So we had to turn to the river Agly. 

Some of the paper boats stayed afloat longer than others

After our exploits, we drove through Estagel, stopping at the kebab shop for take-away gyros. We sat down on the sidewalk eating, enjoying a meal out the only way we have been able to since October 29, 2020. 

Then we headed to the beach. The temperature dropped close to the Mediterranean and the wind picked up. 

We visited a historic settlement of fishermen huts along the lake across the road from the Med. The huts were made of reeds, but the wind was brutal so we didn't pause long.

Then we crossed the street and watched the kite surfers jump and flip the windy waves. 

Kite surfing

We found a sheltered place in Canet-en-Roussillon and enjoyed some pastries that Jim and Theresa had brought along, wearing birthday hats and blowing streamers. 

And my birthday extravaganza came to an end. I can't imagine trying to top it next year. 

Dreaming of France -- Pronouncing French

hank you for joining this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.

Last weekend, as my husband and I perused the map of new French regions, I pointed to the area we planned to move. It had been known as Languedoc-Roussillon. Now the area, combined with Mid-Pyrenees would be known as Occitanie.

"How do you pronounce it?" my husband asked. 

"I don't know," I replied. I'm okay at speaking French that I've heard, but I'm awful at reading words and figuring out how to pronounce them. I guessed that it would probably rhyme with Punxsutawney, like the groundhog in Pennsylvania. Occitanie = Ocksutawney.

I decided I'd better check it out. So I searched, on my phone for how to pronounce Occitanie in French. 

The website Forvo.com popped up. It's an app, so I can download it on my phone for $2.99, and after hearing how to pronounce Occitanie, I'd better. It's pronounced Ock-sit-uh-knee with the emphasis on sit. 

Here, don't try to imagine how to say it, go to Forov and choose a female or male voice to pronounce it for you. Forvo pronounciation of Occitanie. 

We looked up some other words, and my husband asked to see how to pronounce his name in French. 

Now we've been to France many times, and he has heard our French friends massacre his name. There just isn't an easy way to say Earl in French. 

When I searched on Forvo, it changed the language to English rather than French, and even some American. 

I went back to searching for the pronunciation of areas within the region where we plan to move. One of those is Herault. 

I typed it into Forvo.com and the pronuncation sounded a lot like Earl, maybe a bit more like Errol. "That's how I'll spell my name from now on so people can pronounce it," he said. 

Here's Forvo's take on Herault. 

Guess I'd better get busy practicing my French skills.

I have a student from Senegal, where they speak French, and I asked him how he would say "Earl." He laughed and agreed that it would be a very hard name for the French. But I don't feel too bad, because last week when we were reading a story in class, he read latté as lat. 

I said, "Wait! That's a French word."

He went back and read it with French pronunciation and agreed, "Latté is a French word."

Are you good at reading French words and pronouncing them? How do you get better?