So we live in France now, not Bali. I’d say there will be more on the move and our motivations later, but considering how infrequently I update the blog, that’s probably not going to happen.
We are now located in the quintessential French village of Lacommande in the Jurançon wine region of Southwestern France. Our village may not have a boulangerie, but it has a wine shop. What more could we need? Apparently, cheese.
We moved into our permanent house last week and Tim and I are trying to pick up some of the traditions we’ve lost over the past six months of travel. That includes a Friday movie night and a Sunday fun day. It didn’t take the kids much convincing that cheese was fun, so we headed deep into the Pyrénées for cheese at a fête du fromage.
The boys look about as thrilled as the brebis who were just sheered by the enfants of the festival.
Notice that both men in the picture are wearing berets. They are local to the Bearn region where we live. They are the traditional headgear of Pyrénées shepherds, not smug Parisians and mimes.
Jack the slayer.
Everything is now settled by thumb wars.
The festival was held in Etsaut, in the Vallée d’Aspe.
Finley’s first pony ride.
Jack’s first pony ride.
This is the dough used to make our dinner, which we ate to quickly to take a picture. Talo is a traditional Basque dish, a thick tortilla/flatbread sandwich. We ordered ours with local bacon and cheese.
A local cake that we’ve been wanting to try. It’s more of a sweet bread flavored with pastis, a fennel flavored liquor. Yum!
The gentleman is making Comte, the closest French cheese gets to cheddar.
Tim came home with 2 kilos of garlic.
A quarter of a wheel of Brebis, our local sheep’s cheese. It’s made in the Basque and Bearn region of the Pyrénées.