August 18, 2016
What a way to start the day: Villebois- Lavalette to St. Christoly de Blaye
Madame Jacquet, my hostess at the B-n-B, was in an expansive mood this morning. Over a breakfast of bread and homemade jam, cake, cheese, and slices of ham, she held forth on all sorts of subjects, ranging from past guests to the local population to the question of what is art. As the skies had opened up and it was raining softly, I was happy enough to listen to her opinions on all these subjects. That she was an engaging and spirited conversationalist made it all the more interesting.
Monique and her husband had moved to the Charente some years ago after suffering severe burnout at her job as an art therapist. The burden of working with recovering addicts, reforming petty criminals, kids in bad situation, etc. had finally become too much. Her choice of place was dictated by economics, it had to be both affordable and reasonably close to a city which would allow her to continue her contacts in the art world. She and her architect husband still work as artists, and she teaches classes in art to the local population. The B-n-B is to make ends meet, as commissions and sales of art works are not enough.
She hosts a lot of cyclists, mostly pilgrims on the way to Compostella. They can be classified as either devout, with cockleshells on their bikes, or not devout, without the shells. Most of them are from either Belgium or Holland. She talked about the very large British ex-pat community in Villebois, about thirty percent of the population. The local school is bi-lingual, and the Brits have been very important in saving the village from desertification, buying and renovating houses and keeping local stores and services in business. They are also apparently keen to stay, and the applications for French citizenship have jumped way up since the vote for "Brexit".
But it was about art that she was most passionate. Art, according to her, should be about communicating. It should be an exercise in personal growth as well. She expressed great disdain for those artists who meerly produce endless variations on the same theme in order to satisfy a market. She herself had dropped her gallerist after he insisted of "more of the same". And she was most emphatic about the need to retain an open mind about art. To keep a child-like wonder and sense of joy in one's work. Well, she was interesting enough that I hardly touched the food, and by the time it became obvious that the morning was starting to slip away, the rain had stopped, and I could leave in the sunshine.
The rain had left a clear, cool morning behind. I followed the cycle route south to Aubeterre, a village perched on a hill over which the route insisted I go. Feeling peckish, I checked out the village for restaurants but once again I was in tourist land as the village has acquired the "quaint" lable that draws then in, with the associated "art" shops, and prices were correspondingly high. So Onward I went to Chalais and a bistro lunch of tomato salad and pork cutlet, with pear tart for dessert.
The afternoon I spent riding toward the Gironde, finally fetching up at a campground in St. Christoly de Blaye. A nice spot, but he most remarkable thing about it was the nest of swallows in the shower room. A light supper in the snack bar, and I was asleep before I could think about it.
Today's ride: 99 km (61 miles)
Total: 717 km (445 miles)
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