Chick-fil-a, s'il vous plaît!

Leaving green, lush Alsace: White specs are storks; Compare the two vegetations & terrains.

We left the gîte in Alsace on a Saturday morning. It was the 5 of us: #4, Lou Henry, Claire, J.J. and myself.  Our trajectory from the extreme east of France was more or less a diagonal southwest by autoroute, then Thiers in the Massif Central (Central Mountains) south toward Millau. Before we left the house in Uttenheim #4 was able to use the available wifi to book a chambre-d’hôte in les Gorges du Tarn, a remote but scenic area characterized by a steep gorge carved by the Tarn River over millions of years. Since it was about  800 kilometers away by autoroute no tourism was planned. After cruising through Lyon and Clermont Ferrand, we continued onward to Thiers. The road between Thiers and Millau was breathtaking, as we drove at a thousand meters high over untamed vistas. We took out time to enjoy a wonderful meal in Beaune at a Carrefour* cafeteria-style restaurant for a very reasonable price. It was the only break in what the old wise ones in my family would call “a hard drive.”

J. J. doesn't trust a GPS. Notice the conifers & the scruffy terrain 

I had no idea how hard it would become when we turned off onto a small winding road, leading into the famed Gorges. From a speed of 80 m.p.h. we were suddenly only able to progress at about 10 m.p.h. Just so you know, I always promise myself that I’m not going to get snookered into driving these treacherous mountain roads where two vehicles can hardly pass each other; it’s crash head-on or fall off into the abyss. How had it happened that I got snookered again?! As the sun was falling at around 7 p.m., our last leg of the day’s journey turned out to be the worst of the entire trip. #4 was driving & he was doing alright. It was shift-shift-shift, up & down in 2nd and 3rd gear, and toot-toot-toot to alert oncoming drivers on blind u-turns. My French mother-in-law had an expression for suffering through such trials as a passenger: Je serre les fesses! (Trans. I tighten my buttocks!) Just so tense!

The mountaintop: The Road Less Traveled?

A while after we turned onto the small-winding-road, I called the B & B to tell them we would be arriving and to get preliminary indications. At that point la patronne’s directions made perfect sense…but we had only just begun & we didn’t know how long it would take. However, she didn't miss her opportunity to highjack me. At a cost of 20 Euros each would we be wanting to have dinner? I said that I guessed we would, but could she at least half the price for the small children. This she was willing to do. How nice! But, could we just please hurry and get up there because she would be keeping the kitchen open specially for us. Get Real! We were coming as fast as we could. Crazy lady, did she want us  DOA? I confess I was on edge and feeling resentful. At one point we thought we had arrived when we came to a burg hanging off a cliff. When I called the B & B to ask for the house number, a male voice said, "Mais non! We don’t have any number. We’re the only ones up here! Continuez toujours! ” Good grief! We still had some more tortuous road and the sun was falling fast. I’m sure the last 10 kilometers took at least 2 hours. 

At sundown, about 9 p.m., greatly relieved we finally pulled into the establishment parking, where there were a few cars...some other intrepid tourists?  We were met by an enormous ginger cat perched waist high on something I can't name. I say “met” because if ever there was a “meeter-&-greeter” this cat surely was one. He mewed loudly, but politely, from the time we got out of the car until he followed the children to their quarters. I know he was saying all kinds of wonderful things, such as: 

“Oh, so at last you made it! I am so glad you did. We’ve been expecting you. Yes, I know the road is pretty rough. I see that you are tired and hungry. Well, my master and mistress have prepared something very special. Oh, so many suitcases! Be careful. This terrain is a bit dangerous. Don’t fall and hurt yourselves. Oh well, I’ll go with the children. I really love children! Ta-ta!”

And off he went trotting & mewing all the way to a modular room & bath, while JJ & I had a small bedroom behind the noisy kitchen. A modern dining room was filled with long tables, loaded with diners, actually families with members of all ages. We had that vieille France* feeling, a time when families were numerous, they ate frequently together, and discussed loudly. From the bits of their conversation that floated to our table, we understood that these diners were randonneurs, or hikers vacationing on foot. They were worried about the rains forecasted for the next day. I mused; they had probably walked faster than we had driven.

Inside the glass doors is the dining room. Notice the grey-to-light-brown stone facing from the Massif Central.

La patronne told us we were eating braised chicken. It was a funny chicken. The bones were longer and the pieces were not as filled out. The meat was a darker caramel color. But, it was really tasty. Nevertheless, one just senses when something is not quite right. Next morning, as we drove around the top of the mountain we saw flocks of guineas everywhere. Now, if you were running a business like hers would you buy chicken at the bottom of the mountain or pass off local guinea for chicken? 

Actually the talking cat was sitting on that green what-ever-it-is to the left of the VW. I was busy packing the car to leave the next morning. Where was the ginger cat? I guess he only meets & greets. Not his job to fare us well. 

*From what I understand Carrefour was a model for Sam Walton when he created Wal-Mart. 

**Old France