a week of WWOOFing: a city mouse in a country house

If someone had told me a week ago that I would be waking up at 8 every morning in eager anticipation of hoe-ing, planting, blisters, back pain, overexposure to sun and weeding, I would’ve told them to be quiet, because the next episode rerun of my Criminal Minds marathon was starting. But here we are, and here I am, in Lieu-dit-Brouillac, near Sarrazac, France, still in the Midi-Pyrénées. Brouillac is a small “place” nestled amongst sprawling hillside fields and woods, with five houses. The nearest village, as I discovered on a long, meandering walk on my second day, is L’Hôpital St. Jean, whose single church bell echoes over the hills across all neighbouring “lieux” and whose École Primaire has exactly 24 students, one of them being the younger daughter of my WWOOFing host.

The house my host and her family live in is a former sheep stable built of stone, with an even bigger stone barn next to it. A wooden gate hung with a cowbell and the herbal scent of the rosemary bush in the front garden greets the newcomer. Their bedrooms are up a narrow flight of wooden stairs in the main building and have square skylight windows. The guest bedroom where I sleep is in the new extension to the house, with double glass doors that overlook verdure and a stable that is home to two female donkeys, Lilou and Oasis. Every morning I wake up before my alarm clock from the sun’s intense rays shining into my room, and every night I go to sleep listening to the steady chirp of crickets that serves as nature’s soundtrack to planting vegetables all day long. They have three cats (one of whom startled the merde out of me just now by appearing out of the darkness outside, pressing its paws suddenly against the window), several black hens and two black roosters who crow nearly non-stop before nightfall and lead the hens like a clucking gang around the house, in the garden, or in the gravel driveway.

I am WWOOFing for the first time for a woman named Virginie Podevin, and her vegetable “farm” is called “Les Jardins de Virginie.”

throwback to this time last year, part I: food carts, teahouses & books

I had just come home from spending two months in Trois-Rivières, Québec, studying French and working in a café, and I was high off the success of my first lengthy trip away from home. A reborn wanderlust in me sought the endless roads and unseen sights once more, and a week after my return, I was on my way to my first ever camping trip in Whistler and Pemberton, British Columbia. This was soon followed by a two day stint in Seattle and Portland, which was also my first time travelling to the States. A friend from my yoga studio and I had devised this plan simply with the intention of indulging ourselves in culinary delights; we had bonded over many food related conversations and had even had a “Food Day,” a day we had devoted to eating various specialty dishes. (It was a success, though my stomach refused to support my wild schemes). It’s hard to believe that almost an entire year has already gone by since my first foray into America, and with my impending trip to France dominating my mind these days, I wanted to review the highlights of my trip to Seattle, Washington & Portland, Oregon, before they are shoved too far back into the recesses of my memory by (hopefully) magical, wonderful, eye-opening (and tasty) experiences in France.

The evening before we left, I was put in charge of brewing twelve 1-litre mason jars’ worth of teas, to keep us hydrated throughout the trip (yogi obsession with staying hydrated):

Our visit to Seattle was more of a 3 hour pit stop, where we looked at (and pranced around) the Space Needle in the rain:

and made a mandatory visit to Pike Place Market, of course!

the infamous signage!

fresh flowers in the marketplace :)

The very first Starbucks!! barista bliss :P

a funny mug i found in the market

After some shopping and food sampling, while dodging in and out of the warm rain that was so reminiscent of Vancouver weather, we were on our way again, in the hopes of reaching Portland by nightfall. The drive was long but enjoyable, as we had a lot to gossip about, I had brought my guitar, and the changing scenery flashing by the window was forever a novelty to me:

cramped, but happy

i adore clouds!

a tiny speck of rainbow

entering Oregon territory!

when will the weather change?

We reached Portland in time for dinner at an authentic Peruvian restaurant, which had been picked out beforehand, since we had realized that we both love South American food. The lighting was rather dim in the restaurant, which prevented pretty photos of the dishes, but lent a comforting and intimate tone to the overall ambiance of the dining establishment. What I loved most was the live band that played folk music, and the rustic decor that embellished the railings, banisters, and corners in an inviting and cosy manner.

a quinoa salad

chocolate torte

Since it was already getting quite late after dinner, and we were both tired, we returned to the hostel we were staying at, and called it a night. The next day had a jam-packed agenda, including visits to three different teahouses/tea wholesale supplies, a visit to the Food Carts of Portland, and a descent into the rabbit hole that is the world famous Powell’s City of Books, one of the main reasons for our trip!

We started with visiting the Food Carts of Portland, to nibble here and there at a bit of everything that appealed to us (until we were sadly too full to consume anymore):

i love a good grilled cheese!

french lentil & quinoa salad

In case it was hard to tell before, we LOVE to drink tea, and I hoped to bring back a decent supply of tea leaves to brew back at home. The first of three teahouses that we ventured into was The Teazone & Camellia Lounge, which had the effect of wanting to create an authentic tea blending authority, but rather succeeded a little at making me feel like they were tea snobs above answering my curious inquiries.

I liked the decorated pillar and the fancy shop packaging, but it hardly competed in our thirsty little hearts with The Jasmine Pearl Tea Merchants! This location was the actual wholesale location where they blended the teas in the back, while the front served as a small shop and tea sampling bar. The set up of the interior was light and airy, with simple wooden displays and pastel coloured accents. Their tea names are also a whimsical delight, with “Haiku” winning my attention and affection. The best part of this experience was the tea sampling – the shop lady was very kind and we were invited to select three teas, each, to sample. After we made our selections, she carefully prepared and brewed each tea in a individual (but tiny) teapots, so we had ample amounts of tea to try between the two of us. Since it was a quiet, sunny afternoon, we were able to sit down and relax at the counter, taking the time to enjoy the tea while making casual conversation. It was an unexpected, but welcome meditative experience.

Our last teahouse visit was to Townshend’s Alberta Street Teahouse, which had a unique shelving and bottle display of their tea selection, comfortable café seating in an organic atmosphere, and some quirky entryway artwork:

We meandered around the eclectic neighbourhood of this teahouse in the late afternoon/early evening, sipping iced teas and soaking in the fading rays of summer sunshine before heading to Powell’s City of Books, one of our ultimate destinations. Some lovely moments and images:

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Finally, with our last few hours, we roamed free in the book-laden chambers of Powell’s Books, allowing ourselves to browse entire floors or rooms dedicated to a single genre, while we made difficult decisions on purchases, hampered by small budgets. I chose a book about tea (surprise!) and wished fervently that we had had an entire day to spend at this bottomless pit of a bookstore. On our way out, near closing time, we stopped to take photos next to some pillars of ‘books’:

Then it was back to the hostel for a short sleep – or a long nap, and we were on our way back up through Washington state, so I could make it to an afternoon shift at my part time job. It was still dark when we left, but despite the sleep deprivation, I remember feeling awake and absolutely alive as the sun began to rise and bathed us in its soft and radiant light on the drive home:

first time ever seeing this sign, haha!

Though it was a short trip, I had a delicious and delightful time, and I know that I will be back again one day, for a longer stay.  After all, it’s just across the border! Until then, I can reminisce even as I look forward to my upcoming trips to Victoria (BC), Montréal (QC), and France!

dreams do come true

…if you chase them hard enough. France, see you in September! (Goodbye, bullies and haters, I’m busy achieving my goals!)