The Grove guy pretending to be a French guy
It's hard to resist Brigitte's place in Josselin, a medieval village in central Brittany. We've been there twice before and can't get enough of the green hills, friendly people, and the fresh-baked bread from the local boulangeries.
A river runs through it,
Martha, Francesca, and Brigitte enjoying evening show on the River Oust
just next to the Duke of Rohan's castle
When its flag is flying the duke is home.
Occasionally we'd wake up to the clip-clop of a horse passing by.
Every morning I would step out onto the timeless, cobblestone street
It is good to leave home and to see how other folks live. Bring back the good ideas (couldn't the Grove use a bakery?) and be thankful to leave the bad ideas (Paris, can you tell your street drunks to shut up after midnight?) behind.
In Josselin, a plumber spent three days installing a bathroom in the townhouse across from ours. It was a big job as the 300-year old structure had never had one. The outhouse in the tiny backyard had been adequate for centuries.
We asked him if he could replace our kitchen's broken faucet in. He did it the next morning for eleven dollars.
That's how it is in Josselin. A plane, train, and a bus ride away. You could go there tomorrow. Brigitte rents her 4-3 for the price of a campsite in the Keys.
If you want something of your own, this 500-year old beauty on Main Street (next to the castle) is selling for fifty-five grand.
Like Brigitte's place, it is a one-minute walk from the town square, a spectacular Gothic cathedral, and six restaurants that you'll never want to leave.
Miami has its own kind of magic but for a month we got lost in the wonder of places far away and somewhat forgotten. Sunday Concert, Town Square
I'll be writing more about them in the days ahead.