Le Couvent Diary

We have three days left until the end of our season. The penultimate guests have just left and we are now waiting for three couples from Australia and a couple from Cheltenham, UK. Two of the guests are called Nutter, so we start with the stoolball team and end with the Nutters. Handily we come full circle.

Our guests have been just wonderful again this year. No-one trashed their room, everyone was impeccably behaved, books that were borrowed to finish arrived back in the post. No-one failed to arrive, only one couple arrived a month early - thank God. The vast majority let us book restaurants for them weeks in advance, saving us the nightmare of trying to find restaurants for nine people on the day.

No-one lost their keys, no-one forgot the gate code. (Burglars please note, we've just changed it.) No-one crashed their car, only one person broke a bone. Everyone enjoyed the wine, but no-one made a fool of themself. Only one person expected to pay in a currency we can't use - thank you. Very few people were defeated by PayPal. No-one ate enough breakfast so our hens are now on a strict diet.

No-one wrecked Ali's beautiful linen sheets, everyone put up with Magali's distant, yet persistent, cockerel. Lots of people wrote lovely reviews and those who hated it here have, thus far, not said so in public. For that we can't thank you enough. People let their hair down, but remained dignified and charming. Only a couple of people found they didn't much like the Languedoc, the rest walked, drove, cycled, cruised, rode and canoed huge swathes of this beautiful region and have gone home enchanted.

Now Ali & I will have time to explore again all those magical places people have discovered through the summer. We even have a couple of new restaurants to try. 150 pineapples, 200+ room changes and 650 litres of coffee later we'd be lying if we said we weren't tired. But we've had a fantastic time. Thank you one and all. Next year?

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Today's blog post has been written by Doug & Caroline, who came to Le Couvent, Roujan hoping that they could take part in our grape harvest.

Following a long drive to Roujan on Monday two weeks ago, we arrived to a very warm welcome from Liz & Ali, only to find the weather had put a premature end to this year's grape harvest. Therefore no vendange for us this year, however as some of the harvest had been salvaged there was the option to be involved with the next process, turning it into wine (yip-pee).

Thanks to lots of hard work before we arrived the grapes had already been transported into the village were in a vat and starting to ferment. So twice a day the fermenting grape & juice mix had to be mixed by hand & on the 2^nd occasion daily the specific gravity of the liquid had to be measured for percentage of potential alcohol.

Within a few days of doing this the mixture was at its prime, and time to extract the grapes from the juice, it was decided that Sunday would be the ideal time for this 1100 to be exact.

Sunday 1100 we all met at the Cave (Caroline, Liz, Ali, Colin, Judith, Justine, Michelle, Josh & I) ready to start the separation process. This involved draining the grape juice from one tank into another (by bucket), after we had transferred approximately 280ltrs of liquid from the first tank all that was left was the remaining grapes. These grapes still had potential to produce more juice so they needed to be taken out of the tank & be pressed, this meant that someone would have to get in to the tank and bucket the remaining contents out. I was that volunteer, so off with the shoes & socks, down to my speedo's and in I got. What a sensation paddling in soggy grapes being overwhelmed by the pungent smell they were giving off. It was great.

Once the remaining contents of the tank had been transferred to smaller containers and put into a van, we all went a few kilometres to where the press was situated. We all then took it in turns to press the juice from the grapes, which resulted in a further 100ltrs of juice that could be added to the 280ltrs back at the Cave. The following day we did exactly that, so there is now nearly 400ltrs of premium Chateau Mal Au Dos vintage 2008 maturing in a secrete location somewhere in Roujan.

Despite not being able to pick any grapes on this visit to Roujan we have had a fantastic time and feel very honoured to be part of the team that helped produced the very first batch of wine from Chateau Mal Au Dos. And who knows what other years will bring..

A very, very honoured & overwhelmed

Doug & Caroline.

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We just had the lovely Rosemary Neave from Women Travel New Zealand & the World to stay. She wrote incredibly kind things about us on her blog . Here she is on Mother Superior's balcony chatting with Ali across the void.

Meanwhile we've had two couples staying, both called Kay & Ian. What's the odds for that? Here they are at breakfast.

 

 

 

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I've just come back from collecting the morning bread, cakes and fruit. Here's the list:

One watermelon, one yellow melon, one green melon, 5 apples,  5 slices of ham from the bone, 5 croissant nature, 4 croissant beurre, 3 croissant abricot, 3 noix de pecan, 2 pain au raisin, 2 pain au chocolat, 1 pain au lin, 1 pain complet & 1 festivale brune.

I already had peaches, oranges, bananas, nectarines, salami and cheeses. The hens have laid enough eggs for me to offer all 9 guests boiled eggs too this morning. It's now 8am and the table is complete. I just have to wait for guests to come down to breakfast.

 

 

It's jumper time at 6.30 when I trot off to the village. There's suddenly an autumnal nip in the air. Worry not, if you're still to have your hols here, it warms up wonderfully during the day, but pack a jumper eh? We close in a couple of weeks' time and I love the change to autumn. After the languid summer heat which is just ennervating, I adore the re-found energy that comes with cooler days.

And I'm longing to get going on the vineyards, to help them recover from their hideous hail-bashing of last week. If you're interested in seeing how the wine is going you'll need to nip over to our sister site at Chateau Mal Au Dos . I've copied all the wine-related entries over there and will be continuing the wine story there.

Meanwhile I think I hear footsteps, so I'm off to boil eggs - for exactly 3 minutes 20 seconds. With no food-miles to count, our hens eggs are nest-fresh and take less time to cook to perfection.

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Former guest Vonda had this on her blog and I thought it would be fun to do.

Here is what you do:

1. As a comment on this blog, leave one memory that you had here at Le Couvent. It doesn't matter if you were here a day, an hour , or a month, anything you remember.
2. Next, re-post these instructions on your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you. It's fun to see the responses. If you leave a memory about Le Couvent, I'll assume you're playing the game and I'll come to your blog and leave one about you.

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Well it had to happen. We'd been looking at the muscat grapes for ages, tasting and wondering when the Cave would put out a call for the grapes to be picked. We took a selection off to our friends, Hans & Christa, from Domaine Bourdic to test. On squishing the muscat sample and squirting some of the juice onto his shiny refractometer, Hans let out a guffaw and declared they were already too mature to make wine, unless we were prepared to wait to make a sweet 'tardive' later. We don't have enough for that, so we just picked them.

 

And the guests squashed them in buckets using their very clean feet, and squeezed the slush through an Ikea muslin curtain. Who needs a pressoir? Well we do actually, and one's on order, but it hasn't arrived yet.

 

 

 

 

 

We gave gallons away and we've all had glass after glass of the sweetest, most luscious juice imaginable. It doesn't last long so it's a good excuse to dive in head first.

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With just over a fortnight to go I'm beginning to panic about our grape harvest (le vendange). Ali says it will just happen. I, as a Virgo, tend to think we need to plan it a bit. So our unsuspecting pals are about to be coerced into spending a few days bent double over our vines. I fear many of them will feign memory loss when we contact them. " Who are you? Never heard of you. Sorry. Bye"

Our wine cuves are still in northern France despite days on the phone and visiting transporters to beg them to bring them to us in time for the vendange - or indeed ever. We're having no luck with it at all. Looks like all our grapes will have to go to the cave co-operative in Roujan. We'd been very much looking forward to having a go at turning some of our Syrah into stuff that turns our tongues blue. But hey ho.

Meanwhile we are having a charmed summer on the guest front. Not only has it been our best season ever bookings-wise, we have had a stream of utter charmers. Everyone's been a complete delight. Ali and I feel very unstressed thanks to having such lovely, kind, thoughtful and easy people to stay. Thank you, each of you. We've loved having you here - and doesn't the old house smile when it's full of happy people?

We have just five weeks to go before then end of our season and as I sit here in lightweight summer clothes in brilliant sunshine it's hard to bring myself to phone the log man to ask for a delivery of 12 cubic metres of logs for the winter. But if I leave it until we actually need it he won't have any - or it'll be sopping wet and impossible to heave into neat stacks. Both Ali and I look forward to winters here. I can't say I felt the same when I lived in England. I love the crisp chill that puts a spring in your step, the bright sunny days that mean you can work outside, even if you have to wear a thick jumper. I'm looking forward to days cool enough to tidy up the garden, giving everything a haircut that will last the winter. Everything smells different as September rolls past. The air fills with the scent of smoke from wood-burners stuffed with fruit woods and oak.

But before then the air will be infused with the sharp smells of grape juice running through the streets. Small tractors will hurry along towing great trailers heaped with grapes, small blackboards on the back marked with the variety of grape. They'll deposit a trail of juice which will leave us in no doubt about how this region earns its keep. As one drives along towards Pezenas great draughts of wine-perfume blast out from the Cave Cooperative and Domaine Bourdic and the Chartreuse de Mougeres and Domaine de Montpeyrat and Chateau Fondouce - and all the other thousands of wine producers here in the Languedoc.

And the great thing is, it just happens.

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Last night I picked the first of the figs from our vineyards - Chateau Mal Au Dos. In the past we've picked wild figs when out walking the dogs and they've been the big black droopy ones, but now we have our own - and they're quite different. The green ones are called Les Blanches here and have a honey coloured centre & taste toffee-ish. The little purple ones are divine - luscious red on the inside and tasting of jam and wine and roses. This morning they're on the breakfast table.

 

 

 

NEWSFLASH!!

Having had to refuse lots of people who wanted to come to stay at the beginning of September because we were full, last night we had a cancellation. So now we have a double room available from 2-10 September. It's the orange bedroom with a huge bed and ensuite shower room.

That period is likely to be right over our grape harvest so should be extremely interesting (if slightly hair-raising for Ali & I). If you're up for a late break do let us know sharpish. Just think, you could be enjoying a few more days of bright sunshine, bathing in the crystal clear pool and tasting luscious figs you could pick yourself. How about it? It's going to be 30 degrees today. Mmmm!

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Well, we've just about recovered from the headiness of the Roujan annual fête. This comprises four nights of live music at the open space by the football ground, lots of big tables with hundreds of people scoffing moules frites, wine tastings, boules tournaments and the smallest parade in the history of carnivals. Four floats, one and a half papier-maché hedgehogs and the Joyeuses Minettes de Roujan.

The latter is a troupe of short blokes (except one) who wear wigs, short white skirts, bloomers, hats and falsies who dance about being majorettes. Their claim to fame is that, in their 26 years of formation, they've never had a rehearsal. The result is very funny. The one tall bloke is my brother. We worry for him.

 

 

 

Guests from Le Couvent drag themselves from the pool for the four and a half minutes it takes the carnival procession to pass.

 

Only to have stuff chucked at them by evil-looking small boys.

 

 

And a very jolly clown.

 

 

Everyday gear for this tractor-driving vigneron.

 

 

 

The town totemic animal is a hedgehog. If your french is up to it, here's an explanation: La légende du Hérisson « Lou Roumégaïre »

La tradition et la légende rapporte que, lancée à la poursuite de la Tarasque, qui semait la terreur dans la Basse Vallée du Rhône, Sainte Marthe, Patronne de la paroisse dépêcha à l'encontre de l'animal sanguinaire, une armée de hérissons dont la mission consistait à défendre la cité contre toute agression extérieure.

Mais le monstre ne fut pas au rendez-vous. De ce fait l'armée des vaillants insectivores fut autorisée à prendre ses quartiers d'hiver. Pourtant un hérisson demeura dans sa place. Il y fut nourri, choyé, adopté jusqu'à sa mort.

Depuis ce temps, cet animal totemique est devenu le symbole légendaire de la protection de la ville de Roujan contre toute attaque venue du dehors.

 

 

So now local Roujan muscle carries this big and very heavy hedgehog through the streets, lurching hither and thither fuelled by white wine, scaring onlookers.

 

 

Not to be outdone, some younger Roujan boys have made a second, smaller, version.

 

 

The boules tournament with all the local chaps showing off their boule skills and beautiful legs. What is it about men who are completely used to wearing shorts all the time - why are their legs so much more good-looking than Englishmens'?

 

 

Five peach trees at Chateau Mal Au Dos bore fruit this year, despite having been neglected for the past three years. This week we picked the last of them and made some delicious peach jam.

 

 

And, just for a change, we went strolling about in our vineyards with a fine glass of the new wine from the Cave Cooperative in Neffies which is a beautiful and complex red - called Hadrien. We're sporting small pockets in which one can carry a glass of wine while scoffing canapés and shaking hands in greeting (or kissing if you're here in France).

 

 

Meanwhile we are happy to see that our cinsault vines are coming along nicely. I'm slightly anxious, though, having bought a couple of wine fermentation tanks ready for our first own-production. They're currently near Orléans in Northern France and I can't find anyone to get them here. Transporters say they're too small and the post-type business says they're too big. Surely there's someone who can shift two tanks 1.3m wide by 1.8 metres high - made of fibre-glass and weighing next to nothing. We have just four weeks to get them here. Help!!!

 

 

 

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'Is your life really the idyll it looks?' ask many of our guests. Without hesitation we reply that for us it is. We work for five months meeting and accommodating fantastic people and that means we are able to live in a beautiful house all year, seven months of which we have completely to ourselves. Now how hard is that?

Yet this morning, as we were in one of our cleaning blitzes, I realised something. Both Ali and I hated cleaning and housework before we moved here. But in the process of running the house as a B&B we've become so accustomed to it that neither of us ever thinks about it. We just get on and do it. We have seven bedrooms in the house, plus three sitting rooms, two offices, two kitchens and a huge gallery space - oh, and seven bathrooms. We have the lovely Patricia, our cleaner, to do our own apartment, but all the rest we do ourselves. We never get tetchy about it - indeed I don't think we even think about it - it's just another job.

But if you're considering running your own B&B, you have to be able to get over the fact that you'll have other people sharing your house and that there'll be a heap of cleaning, washing, gardening, restaurant-booking and wine-drinking to do. The pool has to be more spotless than it would be if it was just you using it. You can't leave jobs until tomorrow because the sun's out - it's almost always out. And you really must like people. Not tolerate them. Really like people - you know, genuinely find them interesting. Now, we're super-lucky because we have a stream of very interesting people who pitch up at this quirky old house. And they are super kind to us. The rooms are always left spotless, so we have a pretty easy job of it. Thanks to all of you - and come back soon eh?

An idyll? Most certainly. Work-free? Most certainly not. Fun - absolutely definitely. Personally, I wouldn't swap my life for any other in the world. As for the cleaning, I still don't relish the thought, but I love seeing the house in it's finest, cleanest clothes.

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Whoops - I've kept you waiting. Sorry. Glad you're back though. So four days ago the Tour de France chose to gallop through Roujan again after a 50 year break. And what fun we had.

Two of our poor guests had to leave early on the day of the tour to avoid closed roads and traffic jams. This was particularly rotten luck since one of them had broken her foot whilst here and had the 24 hour journey back to Western Australia to do encased in plaster. Hope you got home safely John & Julia - sorry you missed Le Tour. Maybe the whole of Roujan should be protected thus:

The fun starts some two hours before the actual cyclists show up, when a cavalcade of advertising vehicles rattle past lobbing freebies at leaping spectators. Grown adults diving like Grobelaar to rob tiny children of the fourth peaked cap or a triangle of cheese. Some of the vehicles are spectacular, like this one on top of a car.

Some aren't quite what they claim to be - for instance - what's eco about driving the whole of France in a big square box on wheels?

 

This poor women spent her entire time trying to avoid being decapitated by overhanging trees.

Whilst this chap looked none too enamoured to be spending half of July sitting in a cup of coffee. A career in PR anyone?

Mme Mas came out onto her balcony to wave, sporting a very appropriate and fetching Nike cap.

 Ali made sure we got our own bit of marketing in.

Our lovely French neighbour brought us out a plate of delicious stuff to stave off hunger (we were none too successful at catching the cheese triangles).

 Nicola & Ali bought silly hats.

And eventually the cyclists came in a sweep and a whoosh. All very exciting. We shouted for them to thow us drugs, but they seemed to have kept them all for themselves. Hey ho, you can only ask.

  

 So we all had a silly, noisy, friendly and lovely time. Wish you'd been here.

 Thanks Tour de France - see you in 2058.

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Wow, it's been a momentous week. My lovely brother Justin (known in the family as Freddie) had his 50th birthday.

His kind wife, Michelle, organised a secret party for 60-odd people (important hyphen). It was nearly a well-kept secret until Joel the local carpenter asked him what time it started just two days before the event.

I gave him one of those super-duper self-published books you can do so easily on a Mac & Ali gave him a day learning how to taste and blend wine. We all went off to Domaine Bourdic and had a fantastic time creating our own blend. By the end of the morning we all had blue tongues from tasting so much 'raw' wine.

But the real panic came during the afternoon when we had to blend, record quantities, taste, adjust, blend again and eventually come up with our very own assemblage which was bottled and given a label with our name on.

 

It was a truly fantastic and memorable day. Hans & Christa are gifted teachers and each one of us said we'd learnt more about wine in one day than could be imagined. We'll keep you posted about the next chance to do the same assemblage day.

Yesterday we had a real Jean de Florette kind of a morning. For some time we've been lugging 120 litres of water up to our vegetable garden in the vineyards as there's been no water there. But it all changed yesterday thanks to Ebay (where I found the perfect pump), Ib and Andreas. More about it on Ali's blog about our vineyard .

Meanwhile the guests have just been hanging about in hammocks.

 

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From time to time we ask a guest if they'd like to write the blog. This time Rachel's taken up the keyboard - and provided the photos. 

It was a tough week at Le Couvent, Roujan.  Firstly there was that hot weather – pretty much a constant 35 degrees in the shade, which coincidentally is where I spent most of my time.  Then the long periods of pool management, often unaided, where I had to make sure that nothing untoward happened either by or in the pool. 

Huge breakfasts for which it would have been rude not to have shown some enthusiasm.  I particularly liked the fresh fruit salad, the juicy melon, the luscious pineapple, the perfect peaches, the pouting pastries, the dark seductive coffee, the still warm baguettes, the home made jam, the eggs laid by the cackling hens only hours before… the other stuff was fairly average.

 

 

Oh, and we had to go to this restaurant in Vailhan set on a hillside in an old monastery overlooking a lake, hills and the most spectacular sunset.  A table on the terrace where, lets face it, there was a strong wind.  Tough.  And the food… smoked salmon to start, daurade in foaming mayonnaise for mains and chocolate gorgeousness for afters.  Hard. 

I walked - fast - each morning in the already baking sun to try and maintain some semblance of moderate body size.   I focused on routes Dechetterie (look it up), Monastery and Margon and I would have to admit to taking in some rather beautiful scenery. 

 

 

 

 The locals seemed to wince at my breezy pace in such heat.  “Non, non, non,  Trop chaud pour marcher…”  Having brought my sports bra and short lycra shorts, it seemed the right thing to do but meant I built up a fairly deep all over tan.  Again, that might not be to everyone’s taste.  Sometimes I just had to lie on the garden bench in the shade and watch the world go by.  

 

 

Oh, and we squeezed in a visit to the market in Clermont L’Herault where there was a sort of whiny music in the air as we got out of the car.  I commented how it sounded like someone playing the saw… 

 

 

 

The market was full of bright colours, intriguing stalls and pungent smells – none more so than the air of wet dog that emanated from one of the charcuterie stalls.  I’m sure it was very nice…  A little hot but I managed.   Oh, and I bought a new lilo.  A new swim toy had appeared by the pool, a sort of hammock on the water, a cocoon on the lagoon, and I was feeling very sad that I had to leave it behind.  Obviously tricky to wrap and send home but I made the best of it…

Oh, I could go on and I will.  Obviously I jest.  Le Couvent is just about my favourite relaxing sanctuary in the whole world.  Ali and Lizzie have created a haven – or is that heaven – for all comers.  A place for relaxation, for contemplation, for aperitifs and peaceful banter in the courtyard, regular dips in the pool, favourite rooms (mine is the yellow room, i.e. that’s my room, mine…) and bountiful jaunts – can you have a bountiful jaunt?  I mean plenty of places to visit, explore and of course, to eat. 

I also made my first trip up to Le Chateau Mal au Dos, the vineyard where Ali and Lizzie create and share more experiences with friends and strangers alike.  

 

 

 

Wild fennel and rosemary, peach and pomegranate trees, fig and olive trees, a vegetable garden, a tumbling pool waiting to be filled, a crumbling stone cottage to host summer barbecues, winter sleeping bag snugglings and gatherings galore, and of course a few thousand vines.  What a place.  

But it’s not just the joy of being there.  My mind was also flooded with memories of the times I’ve been there before – this was my sixth visit - wafting over me as I melt into a state of pure contentment.  I was sitting by the pool one day when one of the other guests came over to me and said “You look very relaxed in your own skin – is that because you’re here?”  Such perception.  And what a lovely thing to say.  

 

 

 

That was just a week but it has set me up for a good while to come.  And I can always go back…

Thanks Rachel - you're welcome back whenever you can squeeze in a jaunt to Roujan. Lizzie & Ali xx 

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The problem with writing a blog is that sometimes you don't have time to write it, then all the stuff that happens in between becomes so huge that you can't face the task of going back over it. So you don't write. Sorry about that, I'll make amends now.

Since I last wrote we've had wonderful Swedes, Americans, English, Scots, Dutch,  New Zealanders, Australians and many others staying. They arrive already knowing about our lives thanks to this diary and website. But we know nothing about them, so it's like sticking your hand into a lucky dip and finding a treat every time. Film-makers, glassy-winged sharp shooter expert, tennis coach, mountain-climber, charity bosses, ballet dancer, widget manufacturer, software architect, writer, lawyer, homeopath, urban regenerator, public relations experts, an honest estate agent, hoteliers, a cop, musicians, accountants, architects and artists have all turned up at Le Couvent in the last month. Can you imagine how interesting it is for us to learn of the wild, wonderful, awful and exhausting ways people find to make a living? We salute you all and hope you found a bit of peace and inspiration during your stay. Thanks for the stories!

As for us, we've been run off our feet with lovely guests and have had a great time in the process. The pool's stayed bright, clear and fresh thanks to slightly cooler than average weather at around 24 degrees-ish. Very comfortable and quite unlike the energy-sapping high 30's of the first year we were here six years ago.

The vegetable garden's groaning with salads threatening to run to seed so I'm doing my best to palm stuff off onto guests who decide to take a picnic to our vineyards.

 

 

And when they're not helping us use up salad we put them to work weeding the vines. This one's for you Sarah & Andrew.

 

 
While we're on the subject of the vines, this has been a worrying time weather-wise. The mix of warm temperatures and a bit of rain is not great for grapevines. They are prone to getting mildew and oidium, so we have to treat them. We have help in the rather delectable shape of Fred who sprays the vines for us each fortnight. We insist that he wears a mask but he's a bit reluctant to use it properly. God knows what his tan looks like after a day like this.  

 

This morning our friend the WelderBeast's been round to discuss the bridge. Many of you will know that we've wanted to construct a small bridge between the house and the garden, but we've never found a satisfactory solution to the problem. We'd like something functional and sculptural at the same time. WB is the first person to tell us it's completely possible. Watch this space.

This weekend we cooked for our lovely group from Landseer Productions (something we do very rarely) and they've asked for the recipes, so there will be a couple more in the book by the end of the week.

 

I've also made some peach ice-cream and sorbet from our own peaches. At Chateau Mal Au Dos there was an orchard of peaches and olives when we bought it. However many of the peach trees had died of neglect, except for about four. Incredibly one of them produced the smallest yet sweetest peach crop this year. I'm hoping that some TLC from us will produce even better result next year.

 

 

 

 

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(Our second guest poster is Cynthia, from Bellingham, Washington, just south of the USA/Canada border.)

Mother Earth must be laughing -- our brief stay at Le Couvent, June 1-2, coincided with the wettest spring weather in the Languedoc in nearly 60 years. No strangers to rain ourselves, coming from the Pacific Northwest corner of the United States, we had hoped for a glimpse of the sunshine that the south of France is known for, particularly as we'd had a very cold and wet spring.

We were sure that the weather in Roujan would be milder and more conducive to walking and exploring tiny villages than what we'd experienced the week before in the foothills of the Massif Central, where a memorable thunderstorm and nearly incessant rain kept us indoors.

As we entered the gate of Le Couvent, Ali and Lizzie met us with the warmest greeting we have ever had -- and big umbrellas, as yes, it was raining on the plain, too. But we really didn't mind.

 

 

In a lovely old building that radiates serenity, we reveled in our simple, supremely comfortable bedroom, hundreds of books, eclectic art, marvelous local food, delightful fellow guests, and most of all, Ali and Lizzie. We arrived as guests, but after that heartfelt welcome, we were family, and their home was our home, with its heart in the kitchen. Gathered around the long table, enjoying the extraordinary Le Couvent breakfast or an aperitif in the evening, we laughed, shared our stories, and were at peace.

And in what surely was a miracle, sandwiched between two thunderstorms and drizzle, we had a couple of hours of brilliant sunshine! We saw Le Couvent literally in a new light, spent time in the delightful pool and garden, and knew we would have to return.

The real souvenirs of travel are not tangible -- they are the remarkable people like Ali and Lizzie, Renaissance women with hearts of gold, who become part of our lives forever.

(Sent from Bellingham, where it is still raining…)

 

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Guest Maryellen writes again 

On Monday I went with Lizzie and some others up to "Chateau Mal au Dos" to see Ali and Lizzie's potager and vines up there. It is a 7 minute drive from Le Couvent or a 40 minute stroll.

After a walk around the block which took in some of the forest up there, Liz showed me how to pallisage the vines, bringing their young shoots and branches through wires that run parallel with the ground and clipping them against it to keep them safe from the strong winds that occur. I pallisaged away until Lizzie made me get in the car to bring me home - it was so relaxing and enjoyable to be gardening in such a meaningful way. Mon mari and I went back yesterday to do some more pallisage - the block is in an amazing location that has views in almost every direction. Mon mari was convinced that when we come back to Roujan we must stay up there!

Other treats through the week were a visit to St Guilhem le Desert - a beautiful stone village on the side of a gorge north from here and dinner at L'Entrepots at Pezenas (again!). The service and food at that place is exceptional!

I am dreading leaving here tomorrow - I have had a wonderful time. I have watched other guests sadly leave over the last 2 weeks and been thankfully spared up until now. Lizzie and Ali are wonderful hosts and are genuinely happy to make your stay as comfortable as possible. Their garden and home is spacious and welcoming and their dogs and neighbours are happy to make you feel at home as well. Quel domage - we have to go!

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We thought it would be interesting to ask the occasional guest to write the diary for a change, so first up is Maryellen, one of our four current visitors from Western Australia.

                                            _______ ::::________

Maryellen here - Lizzie has invited me to write the Le Couvent diary.

It is so wonderful here in Roujan - I have come in from my poolside position in the sun, where I was listening to birds I haven't heard before, to write a little entry in the diary.

This morning after a beautiful breakfast at Le Couvent which featured fresh strawberries with mint, elderflower and acacia honey, mon mari and I drove into Pezanas to the market (10 minutes by car). Pezanas is picturesque and lively on market day and we had a great time walking around finding bargain clothes and delicious food. We bought a wine yesterday in Fougeres (spectacular!) that we wanted to eat with soft fromage de chevre and acacia honey, so I was on a mission to find the cheese at the market. During my mission I also found great T - shirts, baked cheesecake, olives, tapenade verte, paella, pate and a butcher (or five) selling everything from the tip of a pig's head to the bottom of its trotter. We had a lovely stroll through Pezanas and came home to Le Couvent to make a picnic to take up to the pool. Mon mari is still up there surrounded by oyster shells and an empty bottle of picpoul noir (a rare grape variety found only in the Languedoc) ! It is all incredibly indulgent and delicious in a peaceful, rural way that I absolutely adore.

Each day has been so wonderful here - always something different with loads of asistance and ideas from Ali and Lizzie if you want it or the freedom to find your own way.

I'd better get back up to the pool before the last of the sun disappears. Enjoy your Rose wherever you are (though I do think it tastes much better here!).

Maryellen

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