Part of my morning walk to "Les Trois Fonts"
[title of this post from Walt Whitman's poem, "America"]
Happy 4th of July, fellow Americans! When I suggested to Lindsay and David (both Brits) that we celebrate, they agreed with zest and we began planning the meal. I told them that Americans typically BBQ outdoors for the holiday, so Lindsay said she'd prepare lamb and pork marinated in a gourmet mustard sauce. I told her this meal was already far too many notches above the American norm, but stepped in and said I would bake my favorite cream cheese pound cake for dessert. L and D's eyes instantly doubled both in size and brightness...so, it's a go. The cake must be extra good, too, after this morning's conversation:
Lindsay: So, on this day America celebrates their independence from what?
Me: oh....Great Britain...
Lindsay: Well then. We shouldn't be celebrating at all, should we?!
[insert awkward giggle by me...followed by silence]
SO, a delish pound cake it shall be!
I type now from the unfinished part of their home, next to some honey extraction equipment (and, of course, wax in my teeth from sucking on fresh honey...so good!) and the little oven with my cake(s) in front of me. More to come about that in a little bit...
I should also let you know that due to unfortunate family circumstances, my dear friend had to go back to the states on June 28th. My heart and positive energy/thoughts are with her and her family during this rough time. And, as far as things go for me: the rest of this Euro journey shall be done solo!
Anyway, today is a great day for me for many reasons...it was a day that proved to me I can conquer just about anything!
Early in the morning, I popped a bike into the van and Lindsay drove me to Pech Merle, an incredible prehistoric cave with original drawings, etc. Anyway, the plan was for her to drop me off there, and for me to "just ride right back" after. Both L/D claimed it was a nice little 15km ride, but as the van worked it's way down, down, down into the valley and through the winding roads, I noticed the clock go from 10am to 10:36am in no time. Ok, so...it'd be a long trek uphill on the way back. No problem...
She dropped me off at the cave and I joined the next little tour group. It was all in French and I actually understood, yay! The tour was about 50 min. long and took us through one of the coolest natural structures I have ever experienced. From big, vast, open areas of cave to little tunnels, we saw original drawings of bison, horses, hand stencils, naked women (of course...even back then!), and even a big fish. I was pretty much in awe the whole time, plus the 55 degree air was a delightful contrast to the 95 degrees outside.
The tour wrapped up and I headed off to unlock my bike. I decided to visit the closest village, Cabrerets, about 5km downhill some more, for a croissant and coffee while I took it all in. I found a very quaint patisserie and got a buttery croissant and frothy cafe latte and enjoyed every second of both while I sat next to a babbling creek and watched a guy fly fishing.
Ensuite (and then), the journey really began. I looked at the map David gave me (what a joke! I'm talking real, hardcore map....the kind that true explorers use. I wanted a hand-drawn something or other with a few basic, obvious lines and arrows). Anyway, I realized that another rather large-ish city was just 10km East of Cabrerets, so I decided to venture that way and then make it back to Blars from there.
I will spare the countless [funny in retrospect] details, but this "little adventure" ended up lasting 3.5 hours! First, there is zero signage around here because it is so rural, so I had to go with my gut. Now, my gut in general is not so direction-oriented...especially not in a foreign pastoral setting. But, my guardian angels were awake and actively working as I pedaled along. I did make it to the other city. Oh, and by "city", I mean a cluster of about 10 little houses and a post office resting atop a very, very, steep hill.
I'll take this time to also mention that the bike gears were so messed up that every time I pedaled uphill (it was fine on flat land or downhill) the chain would buckle and there would be no tension...and it would create this loud, almost crashing sound. The entire way back to Blars (which I now know was 17km at that point) was very much uphill. Up mountain, really.
So, in the 95 degree still air, I half rode, half walked my bike up, up, up, forever! At one point I was riding, looking around for a sign (anything!), and my front wheel got stuck in a pothole, flung me off the bike and about 4cm from an electric fence. As I laid on my back in the tall grass, frighteningly close to an electric fence, with sweat pouring down my face...I thought to myself "well, at least I am in the midst of a beautiful setting...I can stay here the night if I need to". But, the adrenalin took over, I got up, and continued up a narrow road that felt right.
Long story short, I eventually saw the "Blars" sign and actually rejoiced. I wonder if anybody saw this, it must have been hilarious: I flew my sweaty hands up in the air, flung my head back and looked up as I screamed "Thank You Universe!" Ah, it was amazing! I made it back to Lindsay and David's, half expecting a welcoming parade, some fireworks, or at least a pat on the back...but they both looked at me and said "oh, hello! Lovely ride, eh?" HA! I agreed that it was a lovely ride and spared them the drama of my trip...I did mention the utterly useless chain on the bike (therefore rendering the bike useless uphill...) and they both scrunch their faces and go "oh ya...that's right...that bike is busted, huh?". Ohhhh....I was just so grateful to be back!
The ride really was fun though, and I am very proud of myself for making it back in tip top condition! I then tumbled into their swimming pool and spent a good 20 min. cooling off and reflecting.
Then the prep. for the cream cheese pound cake began! Now, I am not one who bakes all of the time, and I definitely need a recipe when it comes to baked goods (cooking I am great at winging/experimenting with whatever is available...baking is like a science, though). Of the things the recipe called for, here are the things Lindsay did not have:
cream cheese (note: this is a "cream cheese" pound cake)
whole wheat pastry flour
buttermilk
vanilla extract
sugar (what?!)
an oven with a temp. gauge (correct, it's an oven that is either on or off...no way to determine the temperature)
baking soda
So...if you check out the link I posted above (click on "my favorite pound cake recipe", from my fave foodie publication, Eating Well Magazine), or if you've ever baked any kind of cake in your life, you'll notice that the majority of the necessary ingredients were not available to me. BUT, L and D were so excited about it, that I decided to make it work...somehow.
So here's what I, Ms. Novice Baker, did: substituted ricotta cheese for cream cheese, normal flour for w.w. pastry flour (obviously), made my own buttermilk out of milk and raspberry vinegar, made vanilla extract from real vanilla bark (I know, I know), took sugar cubes (they have them for coffee/tea) and felt like a cave woman (appropriate after this morning) as I sat on the floor of their kitchen and pounded away at 2 cups of sugar cubes and slowly but surely turned cubes into granulated sugar. For baking soda I used some weird thing they have called "leverage chemical" (chemical leverage...sounds super sketchy, but really no other option at that point), and as far as the oven goes? Well, I am in front of it right now (oh, and the oven has no temperature gauge), checking it about every 10-15 min.
I am oh so proud to say that the batter tasted absolutely delicious and the cakes are baking beautifully! Yes, both the bike ride and pound cake are little things, but these are obstacles conquered that make me proud.
So that was my day! Oh, and I helped with extracting the honey. I could write pages and pages about that, but I'll hold...as my comp. battery is about to say goodbye, as is my will to do anything other than stare at the water with an ice cold glass of water in my hand.
To give you a little update: I will be leaving Blars on July 10th and then onward to Germany (about 40km away from Frankfurt) for a fortnight (fortnight= 2 weeks. Lesson from L/D and a word I intend to weave into my current lexicon. Along with "kip", their word for "nap". I definitely over-used that word the day they taught it to me)....and from Germany to Warsaw for a few days to visit a dear friend....then back to the states at the tail end of July.
From there.....only wonderful things! I am missing my high-spirited, lovely, fun, insightful travel buddy, but I am excited about the rest of my journey and I am sure that going solo will invite new experiences and reflection.
Again, happy Independence Day, Americans.....and go watch some beautiful fireworks!
<3
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