I spent three weeks in the country this fall in a region appropriately called Le Centre.Geographically, the center of France. Otherwise, in the middle of no where. Not a one horse town. Many horses grazing on the verdure - nice horses. Nice cows also.
I hope they (the cows) remember me as I remember them - coming up to the fence staring, chewing, emontionless as adolescent boys on a street corner.
There was a wooded area nearby frequented by hunters of wild boar and deer during their season. We were only there for the wild mushroom chase.
There was also a café in this hamlet and a beureau de poste open for a couple hours in the morning, and an eleventh century church which had a service every Thursday.
After three week of detoxing from internet, wine, and friends I was anxious to return home only to find all trains canceled with the rail strike. Real life nightmare and city stress retuned as I eventually did to Montmartre and my love for making images on paper and surfing on the net.
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