David and I both have mixed feelings about Christmas--the rushing about, the commercialism, the over-the-top feeling of it all. And yet, there are also pieces that we both enjoy: being with friends and family, the Christmas food--especially cookies, the sense of warmth and comfort that comes with special traditions. Here we are far from home, without family and the question became: how to make this a special time that would not be full of wishing we were in Canada? After much "why not?" and "what about?" we decided to incorporate the parts of the holiday that we enjoy and then go on a short trip, possibly to find some snow! It is impossible to have Canadian Christmas without shortbread and other goodies so I spent a happy day, baking a variety of cookies and squares in the still temperamental oven. We filled small baskets with the results and gave them to various people who have been helpful to us. The staff at the local "Super Marché" were very excited about this unusual Christmas gift. We sent greetings via snail mail and email. We decorated our "tree", part of the apartment decor supplied by our landlord.
To our surprise and delight Christmas cards began to arrive and we pinned them to a big green ribbon. We invited our special La Rochelle angels for a celebratory meal We found a small village in the Pyrenees to visit, Arras en Lavedan (539 inhabitants) close to some cross country skiing with a friendly bed and breakfast. And we were off down the toll highway that heads to Bordeaux--speed limit 130 km/hr. We each put the pedal to the metal with great delight and then suffered from a strange Canadian reaction: expectation of OPP interference and fines at any moment. Far from that--cars passed us!
For a small country, France has a complicated administrative geography: 22 regions divided into 96 departments, that are subdivided into 330 arrondissements, once again subdivided into 3,883 cantons composed of 36, 596 communes. Imagine what Mike Harris would have made of this!! However, to rest his soul, he should know that as of 2009, the majority of communes have been restructured into various forms of amalgamation. Even with this restructuring, 22% of the French labour force is employed by government. Our 700 km trip from what is known as the Southwest to the very bottom of the country would take us through six departments, full of little towns and villages, rich with history.We travelled through the region of Aquitaine, the land of Eleanor, a mighty woman of the 13th century who was Queen of France and England. Throughout the department of Dordogne, we saw fields with geese and ducks stretching far into the distance, all of them very fat! For here is where the majority of foie gras is made. We took it upon ourselves to sample as much as we could. Creamy, lightly flavoured with a variety of herbs, it is definitely a taste treat when eaten slowly accompanied with some special "toasts" and a glass of white wine. Imagine this foie gras being consumed in buildings that Eleanor herself could have visited. In Sarlat, we stayed in 
a small B and B built into the ramparts of the old wall, very romantic except for the 46 steps we staggered up with suitcases to our room!Our trip then took us into Lot et Garonne to stay in the tiny village where I had spent a month as a 10 year old. I saw it as unchanged although the guide book said that the village was in ruins in the 1950s. There is now a large English population, renovating and restoring, apparently adding all sorts of new income to the village coffers. We stayed in a B and B run by an elderly Englishwoman who seemed very settled and happy in her home of the past 10 years. I was amazed by how closely the village resembled my memories: the church in which I fainted from the lack of breakfast, the school where we ate and slept, the amazing landscape that we hiked in every day and particularly, the height of the village, perched on top of a very high hill. We were tough little girls, toiling up that hill morning and evening! For me, visiting Lauzerte was a moving experience.
I moved back through time to be that brave little girl, setting off to a strange place where the only access to home would be through letters. I made my way successfully through that experience, returning somewhat thinner and with several scars from the lusty fleas that lived in the school. Jolted into the present, I see that history has repeated itself. Here I am again: in a strange place, with much better access to home, hoping to return thinner and, so far at least, unscarred by interactions with fleas!
