We had only eaten in one French restaurant until today, so I had forgotten a lot of the cultural differences between eating out in the US and France. When you ask for water, they ask you if you want it with gas (tonic water) or without. “Without” gets you a 1.5 liter bottle (very expensive). We ended up sitting in front of an Irish couple at dinner (the man made it clear that he was Irish and very proud of it and that his wife was English.) The Irishman commented on the bad service there. We agreed – the French are no known for their good service – they seem to be aloof and do not care one way or the other if you give them your business or not. They often ignore you and don’t act as if their livelihood depends on your business. The servers are not “banking” on your tip as they are in the US, the English wife pointed out. They “take care of you” in Ireland and the US.
The owner of our B&B, Casa Penalolen, is very nice, unlike most waiters in this country. It seems the owners and managers of these small guest houses care a lot more about getting good business, so they try hard to be pleasant and helpful.
The Irishman is very proud of his heritage and made that point repeatedly. He came across as a little arrogant – he was quite loud and made absolutely no effort to speak any French – though he was mostly friendly to us. His rambunctious character was a stark contrast to the French mild demeanor and soft voices.
I definitely don’t feel at home surrounded by people talking so quietly and gracefully in restaurants. The French are generally too subdued for my taste – though there are always exceptions like Luc, the owner of Mas de Bordes. I miss the energetic and loud Spaniards…looking forward to Italy for that!
The Irishman, C and I stood out in the restaurant. As a matter of fact, 3 girls in the French family sitting next to us could not stop staring at Corey and me – me in particular. They would talk, look over at us, turn around and look, and at one point stared at us for a good minute or two solid (or at me, since Corey’s back was to them and I was facing them.) It got to the point that I honestly thought something was behind me and turned around to check. I never noticed the parents saying anything to the girls, like “that’s rude, don’t do that.” The worst one was the oldest, looked closest to our age.
This town of Villefranche has incredibly old structures. I can’t imagine the beginnings of the town and ramparts back in 1089? Something like that. The town itself is too small for more than a couple hours, but the fort has a great view of the village and surrounding mountains. There is even a subterranean stairway that seems to go on forever connecting the fort to its village below. Most interesting though is what’s just outside of town – the complex caves!
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Today was a short travel day, going from Thues-entre-Valle to Villefranche-de-Conflent…some long names! Anyway, we got up at 0800 and scrambled to get packed, fed, cleaned up, and paid up, before catching the train at 1010. We said our goodbyes to Luc and the gray cat, and made it down to the station about 10 minutes before the train came. 30 bumpy kilometers later we were in Villefranche where the Petite Train Jeune interchanges with the real railway. I checked out the bathroom but to my dismay, it only had urinals and showers… We walked all of about 5 minutes and found Casa Penalolen with no problem. The owner, Mireille, greeted us but it was a bit awkward with the French/English. She showed us to our nice, comfortable room where we relaxed for a while. It is a far cry from Mas de Bordes! I later talked for some time with Mireille about what to do around here, and I practiced some French with her. She also showed me the same Budget Travel magazine we have that turned us on to this region. It has a picture of Mireille and her husband, Esteban (from Chile). We headed over to the town around 1330 and had lunch at Le Patio. I had what basically amounted to two salads and B and fish kabobs. Next, we bought two 6 EUR tickets to Fort Liberia at the ‘back gate’ of the town then made the steep hike up to the fort. There was a self-guided tour of the inside and outside of the fort, built in the 18th century. I was most impressed with the commanding view of the three valleys from up there and the long, narrow staircases into the depths of the fort. We left the fort for the town via the incredibly long ‘souterrain’ tunnel, a staircase with a 180-meter vertical drop, completely inside the mountain between the fort and the town. I felt bad for the panting people going up to the fort that way! We wandered around the narrow streets of Villefranche for two hours until the restaurants opened for dinner at 1900. There was a guy walking a dog and a ferret through town! We found a nice looking restaurant called Le Relais. I had a pizza (not the margherita I was expecting) and helped B with her salmon appetizer and huge portion of beef strips. Bizarrely, the couple eating at the table behind me (the first English speakers we have run across, from Ireland) are also staying at Casa Penalolen! Between talking to the Irish/English couple and eating my pizza with my hands instead of knife and fork, the French teenagers across the aisle were constantly entertained. By now, it was 2100 and we retreated to the Casa just before dark.
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