How is that spelt?

Kate's day started just after (or possibly slightly before) the church bells rang. She went for a long run, choosing a route from a very handy little book of all the walking routes in the Ventoux area. It was in the house, but is, ironically, the book she ordered (and paid for) over the internet and had mailed to me (apparently), but which never arrived.

I, on the other hand, started my day more slowly. Coffee and the James' biography. I contemplated a long ride today, but my legs felt a bit stiff when I was lounging on the sofa so I decided on something shorter -- a quick little loop to Nyons. I went over the fields and through Entrechaux to Faucon, then Puymeras and Mirabel aux Baronnies and then on to Nyons, where I encountered some nasty construction work in the last 2km approach to the town. In town I rode around a bit, spotting a western wear store (called Key West!), and then settled into the arcaded town square for lunch. I had the plat du jour -- roast chicken, frites, ratatouille. It was fine, but the rolls it was served with were particularly good. They were made of farine de petit epautre (spelt flour). And the biere blanche I was served tasted a bit unusual to me, but I managed to ascertain from the disintegrating label (and without my readingglasses, which, by the way I also lack as I write this) was a local (to the Drome) beer made with spelt, which is the same as farro and perhaps related to or at least similar to wheatberries. Apparently, there is an artisinal brewery right in Nyons (proche de la gendarmerie) called La Grihete. I think it makes several different types of beer and I know it sells directly to the public because I rode by later. The one I had, which tasted a bit herb-infused, not unlike the Colomba from Corsica, is called Mange-Soif. It was delicious.

I rode home by taking the road out of town towards the oxymoronically-named (in my view) village of Vinsobres, which is a much nicer road than the one under construction, and is not under construction. From it you can swing back to Mirabel aux Baronnies, and then take the lovely quiet largely downhill (but gently enough that one can enjoy the view) road to Villedieu. Going that way adds about 3km to the trip home (the total round trip was about 67km) but is well worth it.

As luck would have it, we also bought some epautre the other day and are planning to have it for dinner tonight, in a kind of risotto-like cooking treatment with a long sweet-looking red onion and some leftover chicken. I think there are a few other leftovers (tomatoes and salad greens for sure) that we will make our way through as well.

Pat left this morning on a great adventure and will not return until after I am gone. I have promised that all the guests will record something in the guest book and that I will cull my photos and send her a selection on a cd. I have also promised to return before another 4 yesrs go by. In the meantime, I am envious of her trip. It starts with the train from Avignon to Lille, where she meets up with a Canadian friend, and then involves retracing the route of Arthur Young, a Brit who tramped about France shortly after the French Revolution and wrote some popular accounts of it. He is often referred to in that excellent book I read just before coming here -- The Discovery of France by Graham Robb (who discovered it by biking some 12000 km over 4 years).

I seem to have left the camera cable at the house (and I am now, of course, at the Blueberry) so a couple of pictures will have to be posted later.