Under the Gascon Sun

     OK, I sort of borrowed the title of one of my favorite books and exchanged the Italian region for the French region.  I have Italy (as well as France!) on my mind these days, as I will be taking 16 of my friends and family on a walking tour of Tuscany in September.  Every week I send out an email with info about a certain town or day or excursion and our excitement is growing as the month of September gets closer and closer. 
     I have read and reread Francis Mayes' wonderful book, Under the Tuscan Sun, as well as her sequels and never tire of hearing about her life in Italy.  Since I don't have a lot to report for this past week I decided that I would share with you some of her thoughts on buying an ancient house in a foreign country.

          "I am about to buy a house in a foreign country. A house with the beautiful name of Bramasole. 
     It is tall, square, and apricot-colored with faded green shutters, ancient tile roof, and an iron balcony
     on the second level, where ladies might have sat with their fans to watch some spectacle below. . . .
     The balcony faces southeast, looking into a deep valley, then into the Tuscan Apennines. 
     When it rains or when the light changes, the facade of the house turns gold, sienna, ocher; a previous
     scarlet paint job seeps through in rosy spots like a box of crayons left to melt in the sun.  In
     places where the stucco has fallen away, rugged stone shows what the exterior once was. . .
     Bramasole:  from bramare, to yearn for, and sole, sun:  something that yearns for the sun, and
     yes, I do. . .

An Italian balcony

A Tuscan hill town

      "On that fresh morning, the facade seemed radiant, glazed with layers of lemon, rouge, and

  terra cotta.  We both became silent as we got out of the car.  After all the turns into unknown roads, the house seemed  just to have been waiting all along. . . 

           "Ed opened the inside window and pushed open the shutters to one glorious view after another 

     of cypresses, rippling green hills, distant villas, a valley. . . a dignified house near a Roman road,

     an Etruscan (Etruscan!) wall looming at the top of the hillside, a Medici fortress in sight, a view 

     toward Monte Amiata, one hundred and seventeen olive trees, twenty plums, and still unacounted    apricot, almond, apple and pear trees. . .

          "When I first saw Bramasole, I immediately wanted to  hang my summer clothes in an armadio

     and arrange my books under one of those windows looking out over the valley."

     And so, here I am, constantly dreaming about a house in France, in a tiny valley of the Comminges, in the ancient region named Gascony, located exactly midway between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean.  It encompasses the upper valley of one of France's four great rivers, the Garonne, and has been inhabited since the last Ice Age.  The Iberians, Celts and especially the Romans recognized its strategic and commercial importance as a natural crossroads.  Few places in the Pyrenees have as many proud relics of the prehistoric, Roman and Medieval past.  I hope my experience will be as magical as that of Francis Mayes and Peter Mayle - my inspirations!

My valley in the Comminges!

St Bertrand de Comminges

     I am in love!!!   And you are all invited to come visit me once I get settled over there.  In the meantime, thank you for joining me on my journey - around numerous bends both large and small.  Merci!