It's often called the Garden of France. Vineyards, abundant produce, artfully arranged landscapes behind manors and smaller homes. They're all here. French roses weren't developed in this region -- that's more of a Lyon thing (Meilland, the breeder of roses that I have in Steffi's garden, has ancestral roots in Lyon and he's not the only one). Nonetheless, you'll find the country's best rose nurseries in the Valley and in a different season, I would be tempted to take the Rose Route that would have me visit both gardens and gardening centers in the Loire Valley. And Lyon is a mere 20 miles (or 30 kilometers) from the Valley proper, and we know that these boundaries are artificial anyway. In late October though, none of this is really on anyone's list of Loire imperatives. Nor is visiting the numerous Loire vineyards, since the harvest is long done. I suppose if you were me even ten years ago, you'd like to poke around the wine caves and maybe sample the delicious whites. That's a thing of the past. Now I just look for peace and quiet and a nice walk in nature.
I get up late-ish. Late sleep, late morning. It's rather nice on a vacation. I love my routines back home, but some are meant to be broken when away. Getting up early seems to be one of the routines I let go of on this trip.
I'm readyfor breakfast just before 10, but I am diverted en route! The morning sunshine is just too gorgeous. Morning light is the best for contemplation, for taking in the beauty of our planet. I walk over to the little lake across dewy meadows and I exhale deeply.
(out my window: beckoning!)
(Two chairs, inviting. Behind them -- a see of winter rye and heart clover)
(The Lake House)
(The lake)
(Another pair of chairs, a boat, and yes, it's an American Red Maple)
(morning mist)
(Time for breakfast; and yes, there are donkeys here as well)
Breakfast is fine. I go eggsy this time, because the granola looks uninteresting and besides, I'm sure to skip lunch so I may as well enjoy some protein, even though this is a truly do nothing day.
After breakfast, I read a bit about the horrors of the world (meaning I catch up on news). Is this a mistake? Should I give myself just one day of blissful ignorance? I don't know... I think I've lived through so many decades of political turmoil and human loss and environmental degradation that I've accepted by now the fact that in our short lives you have to make peace with yourself and your community, wherever you may find it, despite it all. To be miserable helps no one. To find ways to live with contentment may in fact help others to do the same.
Another walk follows -- this one along the entire perimeters of the property. That takes maybe an hour. The Domaine de Primard is spread over 30 hectares/75 acres of land. That's okay for my do-nothing day, but you'd have to head out for a proper country hike. I do wonder -- where is everyone? A few are sitting on the artfully positioned chairs (see below), but the strolling paths are empty. I'm enjoying that! And before I delve into the photos, let me just say that some of my first impressions are evolving! After my walk, I'm beginning to understand that this property really is for a rosarian, but the proper time to appreciate this is... earlier in the season. There are roses everywhere and most of them are quite substantial. Jacques Wirtz is the landscaper who designed the gardens here (he also designed gardens in the Tuileries -- the sculpted, cloud-like boxwood are a giveaway) and I see that these are not young plants. Almost none of the roses scattered throughout are labeled. I had them ask the gardener if he knew some of the varieties (there was one in particular I was curious about) and he responded that he did not know any of them. This is very understandable. There are over 30 000 known rose cultivars and if you lose your tags and do not create a map of your roses, you might as well say good bye to ever knowing what you have planted. If these were put in tag-less a decade or two (or more) ago -- well, there's no way the current head gardener could say what they are.
(I pass this tall tree, maybe twice my height, and I think -- this is actually a rose bush, and not a rose tree. and it's quite old)
(and this is the "official" rose garden... just a few blooms now)
(The vegetable garden is actually quite big, but I don't see abundance right now, certainly not enough to keep all the guests happy at dinnertime)
(Chairs that I associate with Parisian cafes, by the river. I sit for a few minutes, looking at the rapid movement of the water)
(Another 2 chairs and next to it, another old rose, climbing nearly to the top of a tree)
(In the roses by the main Domaine house: looks to me like a Desdemona, but what do I know...)
In the afternoon, I do something that I thought (months ago when I made a reservation at the Domaine) I would need after many weeks of hard physical labor and the emotional strain of late summer (all these people, ill!) -- a spa time. The Domaine has a spa and I daresay, many a French person here from Paris is here exactly because it has a spa. A sort of relaxation break if you will. (There is also a pool, but it's outdoors and despite the fact that it's open until the end of this month, you'll find no one swimming in it. I wonder why...)
Truthfully, I'd rather not do anything at the spa today. But, I booked it and it's the weekend -- their busiest time, so I am not going to unbook it. There are benefits to reserving things in advance (availability is always limited in these places), but there are drawbacks. And it's not as if I wouldn't enjoy a spa treatment, I just dont need it, and these days need trumps want for me. Money and time are at play here.
In fact, I'm thinking maybe I did need a rub down. My shoulders hurt. After the therapist's kneeding, my muscle mass softened from tight to like butter left out on the counter too long. Never underestimate the value of lymphatic and immune system support! And of course I'm delightfully relaxed after it. All ready for my very long journey home tomorrow!
Another "tea time with cakes" follows. Possibly a terrible idea as it's a latte for me -- in fact, nearly dinner time (working that caffeine into my bloodstream and then wondering why I cant sleep!). But, a new routine has been established (can you call something that you do for two days a routine?) and so here I am.
(back to the main house)
(drinking coffee)
And now it really is supper time, again at the Bistro (because... where else? We are in the middle of nowhere). No photos for you. My camera often switches shutter speed accidentally, seemingly of its own accord and it did so tonight. I got a lot of black photos from the evening. But I will note that the dinner was delicious. A lovely final one in France.
with so much love...
