Destination France 2015: Salers

When I don't get around to writing a post, it's usually because the weather is poor and we have a "home day". We usually catch up with laundry and do a bit of grocery shopping. Check out the rain as we drove to Super U.

Press the "Play" button to see how hard it was raining.

Weather is fickle and the following day was perfect to go on another outing. Since we've talked about Salers the cattle, Salers the cheese and Salers the drink, it's time to visit Salers the town! One interesting point is that they don't pronounce the last "s" here. It must just be someone who has an Occitan background who pronounces that last "s". In the town that carries the name, it is simply "Sal-air".

On our way there, a stop in St. Privat.

It's a long drive to get to Salers, passed the Medieval Farms. We just HAD to stop somewhere for lunch. (As if we need an excuse...) St. Privat has a number of restaurants and they all look good. We chose "La Belle Epoque".

The owner was very friendly and we chatted quite a while. She gets Australians, but we were the first Canadians to grace her restaurant. She said that yesterday her husband the chef had made "tête de veau". How unfortunate that we missed it by one day! Whew...

The entrée was a duck quiche with a tossed salad.

The main course was Basque chicken with rice. (Think Spanish influence.) The chicken had cooked in a broth with green and red peppers and lots of tomatoes.

Karl drank beer and I had a 1/4 pichet of rosé wine.

Dessert was a "chocolat moëlleux" with Chantilly and a strawberry coulis.

Food for thought as we left the restaurant.

A quick tour of the town brought us to the church. I don't ever remember visiting a French town without a church.

Peering into some gardens, I was struck by the juxtaposition of pumpkins which herald Fall, and beautiful pink flowers that seem to be harbingers of Spring!

Somewhere along the way, we stopped at a "Tabac" and bought a lotto ticket. It's a big amount this week, 40 million euros, and apparently there are no laws stating that a foreigner can't win. Hey, you never know!

Back in the car for our final segment of travel to Salers.

A solid, handsome town of gray lava houses and 15th-century ramparts, Salers sits atop a steep escarpment at the edge of the Cantal mountains. It is one of few virtually intact Renaissance villages in the region. Karl really enjoyed this town and felt quite at home here. He seemed to like everything about it!

St. Matthew Church. The tower was built in the 12th century and rebuilt in the 19th century. The neogothic porch was carved in the 19th century. The gothic nave is from the 16th century.

An amazing chandelier, larger and more detailed than any we've seen so far.

The church has an admirable polychrome mise en tombeau (entombment) dated 1495, and five elaborate 17th-centural Aubusson tapestries (which we didn't photograph).

The Last Supper

Please note the rooster above the arch.

There's no such thing as streets and avenues all organized in quarters. Rather, many little streets meandering here and there with interesting shops, boutiques and restaurants along the way.

Once I read the name of this restaurant, I hummed the song "La Petite Diligence" for the rest of the afternoon.*

Druid beer.

Cheese cave, literally built underground.

Salers cookies and sweets.

We made our way to the centre square called "Place Tyssandier d'Escous".

These beautiful buildings have turrets from the 14th, 15th and 16th centuries.

The bust on this pillar is of Ernest Tyssandier d'Escous who was born in Salers and was instrumental in developing the Salers cattle and having it officially recognized. The statue at the foot of the pillar with the bust is "moi", aka "the lizard" according to Karl! I love soaking up the sun when I can.

Tourism Office and Town Hall with the central fountain in front. Building from the 19th century rebuilt on the ruins of the Lords of Salers' home in the 17th and 18th centuries.

We sat here at "Chez la Préfète", in the Place Tyssandier d'Escous, to have our afternoon tea and beer.

Librairie Barbe-Bleue. (Bluebeard bookstore.) I, as a young French-Canadian girl, remember the horrible monster that Barbe-Bleue was! That fairy tale wasn't written down in any books we had at home but told to me by Mémère, my Mom and my aunts.

Could this be a Cathar cross?

Karl seems to zoom in on anything "sanglier", whether sausage, statue or painting!

Beautiful triple-lamp standard.

Streets lead up to the Esplanade de Barrouze, a park planted with trees and surrounded by ramparts. At the cliff edge, one can appreciate the spectacular panoramic views of the surrounding valleys, with the ever-present sound of cowbells in the distance.