Part 16: Painting with goose livers and jazz singers in Montlucon

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Continued…
Olivier saved the day. He gave me an extra set of gloves that I could wear inside my regular leather driving gloves. They were perfect to keep my hands just a tick above the weather, and the hand-warming pad that my mother hand given me before I left was of great assistance as well. Even still, the drive was deathly cold. On several occasions I pulled over just to sit on my hands for a while to warm them up - usually every 10 miles or so.
At one particularly bad juncture, I pulled off a country highway to visit a boulangerie - mostly just to get inside for a while. When I restarted my trip, it became clear that the random road I had turned onto, though it had a highway off-ramp, did not have a ramp to get back onto the highway again. It looked like I would have to drive God-knows-how-far toward God-knows-where until I turned in God-knows-what-direction in weather that was God-knows-how-cold.
Ah, but I had a better solution! Since there was absolutely NO traffic on this frozen day, I simply rode back down the on-ramp and re-entered the highway. Perfect. Saved myself 70 additional ice-cream headaches.
When I arrived in the small city of Montlucon, I didn’t get lost. It was the same size as my Oregon hometown of Corvallis - only it was about 1,000 years older.
I rode my bike to the tourist office in the center of town, and called my host. Claire was painting. She was painting a new flat that she would move into in the coming weeks. Claire led me to her home, and I decompressed and warmed up for a minute. Soon, her adorable 12-year-old daughter Lila arrived. Lila didn’t speak much English at all, but we played a memory game with animals to improve both of our foreign vocabularies.
On the way to the supermarket, I mentioned something about Foie Gras in conversation - this was all Claire and Lila needed to insist that I try one of France’s most notorious culinary highlights. As Foie Gras lovers themselves, it was a convenient opportunity/excuse to eat something they enjoyed. And I am challenged to say that the liver of force-fed goose is actually very, very delicious. It strikes me as puzzling that in America we often eat imitation seafood like crab… but there is no imitation for delicious and brutally derived foods like Foie Gras. I’m not saying that I’ll go ordering it every day now… just please don’t put it in front of me and give me the green light; I will eat it all.
We made fondue. I hadn’t eaten fondue since I was about six. My mother used to make it for our family, but had suddenly stopped when I was very young. I couldn’t understand why she would quit making this delicious dinner of ALL CHEESE and bread at the time. Now that I’m older, I think I understand: She turned 40.
The next morning, I looked out the window of Claire’s flat to watch an elderly woman in the cottage across the street step out of her home every few minutes, and beat each rug in her house on the front step, just in front of her proud garden and below the shadow of the hillside that marks the practical boundary of the village. She would come outside with each rug, first peaking out like a hermit crab, before darting back in to grab the next one. It was a classic image, and I attempted to make a video of it. My luck was off, and she finished and went inside for good by the time I got my camera out.
Claire and I painted the new flat she was going to be moving into. She had moved to Montlucon just a few months earlier, with her husband. Almost immediately after they moved, the two of them separated but took turns living in each of their homes and in the company of their two children. I’d never seen a situation quite like it, but they seemed to be making the best of it. I mention this because the confluence of circumstances amounted to Claire leaving her current flat to her ex-husband. You might suspect that she spent more effort fixing up her new apartment.
While we painted the flat, Claire sang and hummed along. She did this with professional pitch; she is a jazz singer. She is also a rock and pop singer. She performs with several different groups in many different settings, and kindly gifted me an album of her fine work before I left.
Claire told me something very interesting about the French government, something that may appeal to any musician or artist friends of mine (Paul Marche, are you listening?). Perhaps you have noticed that it is slightly difficult to “make a living” as a musician or artist in America. Apparently, in France, the government pays a subsidy to all musicians who perform at least 5 times per month. With the subsidy, and the performance pay, you can perhaps support a family and even eat Foie Gras once in a while. Sound good? Maybe it’s time you live in a country that actually respects the role art plays in the function of a happy society.
On my last night in Montlucon I decided I wanted to pick up a couple of items from the store, but didn’t want to go out in the cold. Claire offered to let me drive her car down the road, and I took the chance. It was odd that it had been over a month since I had been behind the wheel of a car, and never before in Europe; it’s like riding a bicycle. I got down to the store and back without incident, although I did buy the wrong kind of cheese for the sauce Claire was making 😞
I didn’t really want to leave my host the next day. I didn’t really see too much of the town, but it was comfortable. It felt kind of like home to me. But there was more to see, and more adventure to be had. I also knew that winter was following me hard and fast, and if I didn’t get moving soon, it would overtake me completely and screw up all of my plans.
My bags were packed, and I was piling them onto my Vespa for my 200-mile ride … when the first snowflake landed on my nose.
To be continued…

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Photos

Lending a hand
Brennan grabs a brush and helps

my hosts
Me, Lila and Claire

clairpaint
My host, Claire

shorty
Claire needs help to reach the high spaces

Comments

[Paul Marche]

I am on my way.
Hey Brennan, make some room for me... I am on my way. I might be bringing a few friends as well :-). Love to hear of your adventures my brother. Keep sharing! We are living our dream through you. Peace my friend