Nothing is perfect. Even perfect days are imperfect. Imperfections are what create charm and character, or at least I think so. That perfect day had began by being nibbled on by goats. After escaping the goats, we set off to spend the morning in a teeny village, with a population of 349 people, in the Dordogne called Saint-Jean-de-Côle.
Coffee and No Croissant
Coffee and a croissant was my first priority when we arrived at Saint-Jean-de-Côle. We found a café, where they only served coffee but no croissants nor any other breakfast food. Apparently in France it is acceptable manners to order a coffee in a café, while you eat something bought from someplace else, thus Mr. H. went off to find some croissants.
He came with something to eat, I cannot recall what, I only recall that they weren’t croissants, because the only boulangerie in the village either didn’t make them or had run out. I hope it was the latter. See, another bizarre imperfection in a perfect day. Luckily the café owner had a cat, which for me was perfect.
After the coffee and the not-croissant, we had a walk around. The first stop was the church. I always go into churches to have a look inside when I encounter one in my travels. This church contained a relic in the form of a bone of Saint Jean Baptiste.
After that we had a walk around the village. It is absolutely gorgeous, and made me feel like I wanted to stay there in the French countryside forever. Just relax there forever. I had heard about how stunningly beautiful those southwest regions of France are, so much so that prior to my arrival I had decided that by then I probably had too high expectations. Even so, the beauty of the area far exceeded my hopes.
I love the combination of the nature, architecture and decoration. The weather is quite mild compared to the rest of France. It was in the middle of summer, but it wasn’t as sweltering hot as more south. In winter it’s not as miserable grey as in the north wither. The countryside was green, and there were little flowers here and there. The buildings, all built in a traditional style were so charming, and the French savoir faire of knowing how to decorate is something I wish would infect me. The birds and crickets chirp. This is the dimension I want to live in.
For lunch we picnicked next to the river. Actually we picnicked for every lunch during our road trip. No photos of the picnics where made, but they all consisted in fresh bread with a selection of local cheeses, saucisson and pâtés. Everything was prepared for during the picnic itself with the help of my Leatherman, the best gift ever from my brother.
After lunch we took off our shoes and waded around the river, as happy as that dog who didn’t want to leave the river. Stay tuned to part III of a perfect day.