A whirlwind tour of vertigo kept me from the keyboard since the slightest movement of my head set the room into the whirling motion of a Cuisinart blender. Medication finally conquered the inner ear infection, but the unsettling news of hurricanes, floods and earthquakes shook my inner system each day as these catastrophes were reported. Returning to my simple blog after my last story has not been easy since composing a story of travel seemed insignificant in the face of such pain and upheaval.
Then, I saw among my photos of France from the alpine region the words on a sign by a mountain stream that struck a chord of peace and calm for me. The sign showed the name: Balme Dessous. Yes, that’s what I need, a restorative balm for my body and mind. The dictionary definition of balm is “a fragrant ointment, or preparation used to heal or soothe the skin.” As I looked at the photo, I remembered the rushing clear water almost aquamarine in color, sparkling fresh and clean and polishing the ebony stones like creations of artwork strewn on the riverbank.
A chapel, or possibly a mountain refuge, was on the opposite bank among the trees with their shimmering gold autumn leaves forming a backdrop like a stage curtain for the dramatic, surging river waters. Green moss cloaked the trunks in a camouflage pattern, and the woodsy fragrance filled my lungs, soothing like a balm preparation.For the moments when I lingered in the memories from the photo I did feel a sense of well-being, a comfort for some of my personal problems and a resurgence of hope for the many with serious conditions not healed by an ointment, or reflections on a photo. Yet, there are times when a simple distraction is a coping method, a balm until the real cure arrives. With those thoughts in mind, I decided that I could write and share photos of peaceful scenes where we can place ourselves safely hidden from harm for at least a short time.
“To Hope” by John Keats
When by my solitary hearth I sit,
And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom;
When no fair dreams before my “mind’s eye” flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head…
O let me think it is not quite in vain
To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air!
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed…
The history of Balme Dessous is lost for me at the moment. I searched among my snippets of saved brochures and scanned my travel guidebook to no avail, so for now I hope you will settle on the best I can give about the idyllic place which was a distraction on our way to Sixt-fer-a-Cheval. Jim and I find out of the way places which are often more charming than our original destination, the ones with the hordes of people filling the streets. Sixt was not a congested tourist town when we were there, but it is classified as one of Le Plus Beaux Villages of France. You can’t go wrong with a place that Clint Eastwood selected to be secluded away. The French film director and producer, Gilles Legrand, shot his first two movies in Sixt. No one on the streets would be impressed with two small-town Alabama residents moseying around their classified village. We couldn’t even get lost on the few streets on each side of the river! The small hamlets that lined the road leading to the impressive waterfall Cascade du Rouget, especially Salvagny, were our main agenda. I was taken by the pastoral beauty of the homes, both ancient and new, with cows and sheep in verdant green fields. Pocket gardens with vegetables and fruit (raspberries-my favorite), so beautiful that one could expect a balm of nutrition from their bounty.
Jim and I left the car by the road, and we strolled like Hansel and Gretel (if you overlook gray hair and a few extra pounds) past the picture-book scenes. Ancient watering troughs with dates from the 1800’s were along the narrow roads by the clusters of homes with geraniums cascading down to greet us like red streamers along a parade route.
Ah, how wonderful! A Mexican settled there to enjoy the balm of the French Alps. My heart has a special place for Mexico and the lovely people who welcomed us there in our travels, not to ever forget the many friends we have met since and hope to meet in the future.
They are in our thoughts and prayers as they try to put their lives together again after the major earthquakes.Our day of meandering along the narrow roads was one with low-hanging clouds, but a brilliant blue sky was overhead. After enjoying the pieces out of this perfect little place, we moved on to the road leading to the Cirque de Sixt-Fer-A-Cheval which is named for the shape of the natural amphitheater, which looks like a horseshoe. Waterfalls spill from the soaring mountains, and the site draws 500,000 people each year! The first time we visited the weather was cloudy, overcast and raining at times. We were the only ones there! Not one person joined us as we enjoyed the beauty. While it was an awesome experience in the stillness, having the wide open massive amphitheater to yodel or eat potato chips without sharing, we were anxious to see it without a rain shower faucet following our every slushy step.
The mountains were a humbling experience and the simple beauty of the old farm buildings along the entry road including a chicken-run was just right for us Alabama folk.We made one good-bye stop in Sixt, hoping to meet up with a film director or a young lady film starlet to match Jim’s short-list of wishes. Oh, I almost forgot! Bob Marley was at my side, poking his nose into gardens and sniffing at the aromas drifting from restaurants. Let me explain. Jim’s hat was continually drooping and slouching down the back of his head like he had a mass of dreadlocks hidden under the wool.
Being a helpful wife and wanting his appearance to be less unkempt, I kept adjusting his hat until I finally gave up and called him “Bob” for the remainder of the time. Bob kept bumbling at the edge of the road and I caught his profile as proof. A stroll with Bob without an umbrella was a nice way to remember the town. The bell tower sounded the chime for the noon hour, an almost sacred occasion in France. It was time to leave. I slowly walked to the car knowing I had only a few more days in France.
Now almost a year since those lovely days I only have a few more stories to share from the October/November 2016 visit. I thought we would return to France this autumn, but we may sit this one out on our garden bench. But we will plot and plan. Stay with us and see what happens. Thank you!
If you are sitting on bench of indecision and would like a nudge to a bucolic vacation, check out Alps Accommodations by clicking here. La Ruche is our favorite! You will not be disappointed by their service, the beautiful homes or the location. Of course you know that location, location, location is all-important. If you would prefer something the Dordogne in SW France, click to see the beautiful homes here at Le Peyruzel. You can’t do better. I know, I have tried others. If you are longing for the Loire, a very sweet place can be found here. Click to link for my story, a very true description of the beautiful home. Clean, preciously beautiful and comfortable! Wait, now, don’t book when I want to go!
Why not add “A French Opportunity“ to your bookshelf?