Lost In Limoges

From the sheep-dotted pastures of France's underpopulated Southwest, Limoges rises in all its grey glory. The city's claim to fame: fine porcelain. The half-timbered houses of the Medieval center are surrounded by strip malls and McDo. Land-hungry Brits descend with flailing pocketbooks (thanks, RyanAir). The weather is remarkably cool year-round. Sure, I live on rue de Nice, but this is NOT the Cote d'Azur. Welcome to Limoges, "the middle of nowhere"-- or as Pierre says "everywhere"-- France.

Monday, June 11, 2007

Petanque with the Pros


Sunday afternoon in the south of France wouldn't be complete without a game of Petanque. Marielle's family-- those darling southern gents-- taught us a thing or two about the game. Serious players, her father and uncle have clearly mastered the sport, even if the court's terrain happens to be a sloping, gravel road where small rocks and holes create impossible obstacles. After our taureau feast, we headed uphill to the top of the driveway and chose our 5-person teams. (I was one of two girls.)



Overlooking the Cypress trees and olive groves, bathed in afternoon light, the view from the road was stupendous. Pictured at right: Marielle's uncle demonstrates proper Petanque position. On numerous occasions, he ruthlessly nailed the boules in the first place spot.

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