Back to Paris from Southern France with a Grateful Heart

When I am "old and grey and full of sleep, and nodding by the fire" (Yeats), I will still remember these past three days in Rignac with Catherine Stock as some of the sweetest of my long and happy life.

I left in the early morning darkness on Monday to walk for half an hour along the Blvd. Saint Germaine and the banks of the Seine to the Gare d'Austerlitz to catch the train that would take me south for four and a half hours to Brive la Gaillarde where I would change to a smaller train for the shorter ride to the tiny Gramat station in the Lot Department. (I had thought Catherine lived in the Dordogne, but she lives in the adjacent Lot). The train moved so swiftly and smoothly that it hardly felt as if it was moving at all, but it was: first past the graffiti on the walls of outer Paris, then past seemingly endless flat fields already sprouting green fuzz, and then to the rolling hills, copses of trees, and patchwork of small farms of southern France. 

I was a bit nervous on the train as my French is adequate for reading, but not for hearing rapidly delivered announcements, and I had no timetable of stops along the way to help me listen for my own, plus I had no luck at all with wi-fi at any point on my journey away from Paris. But all was well, and Catherine was there to meet my train with her two beautiful and affectionate border collies, Jim-Jam and Babou.

Many people don't know that children's book authors do not choose their own illustrators, nor do they have any official contact with them during the course of the publication of a book. So even though Catherine had illustrated the ten books of my Gus and Grandpa series of early readers (and one earlier chapter book, Melanie Magpie, which we had both forgotten completely about!), she and I had never met in person. But it had been absolutely uncanny that without ever meeting me, or seeing a picture of the real-life grandpa the books were based on (my father-in-law), Catherine's fictional grandpa had a startling resemblance to him. The only difference had been that she gave him a mustache that he lacked in real life - a discrepancy he promptly remedied by growing a mustache of his own to match her wonderful pictures! Once I met her in real life, however, it all made sense, as she is someone able to make compassionate connections with all kinds of people, and she and I are kindred spirits in many ways despite her being vastly more cosmopolitan and adventurous than I am.

Catherine immediately whisked me off to the nearby town of Rocamadour, which she has painted many times with her watercolor students, teaching me to recite, "The town is above the river, and the cathedral is above the town, and the castle is above the cathedral." Rocamadour is said to be the second most visited site in France, after Mont St. Michel, famed for its Black Virgin statue and associated miracles.

It is impossible to see steps like these and not want to climb them - though I was glad not to climb them on my knees as devout pilgrims do!

Catherine's nearby hamlet, Rignac, radiates charm, and her cottage, Le Tramizal, is most charming of all.

The village even had its own tiny charming Christmas village tucked beneath a tree next to the Romanesque church dating to the 1200s.

On the next day, Catherine drove me on extremely narrow roads past one picturesque village to another, with their churches, cloisters, and chateaux, each one contending for the title of "most beautiful village in France." 

Catherine pointed out the farmhouse where poet W. S. Merwin lived (and hosted visits from Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath), the cathedral where the summer opera performances are held, the chateau with the heartbreaking love story, the village square where she had seen a staging of scenes from West Side Story.... paradise heaped upon paradise!

But the best part of the trip wasn't the sightseeing, glorious though it was, or the peace of the Lot after the hustle-bustle of Paris, relaxing though that was. It was the deeper connection with Catherine, as well as the chance to meet her friend, author-illustrator Rachel Isadora, who also migrated to this part of France. I loved feeling part of this global community of book creators, of people who strive to bring even more beauty into this beautiful world through their words and pictures. I loved that Catherine and I had made so many books together that we are both still proud of, and now there we were, together in person, sharing the story of our lives in all their messy complexity. 

And when I returned to Paris yesterday, I loved being back in my sweet little hotel room. How could I have ever thought it was cramped and cheerless? It was warm and welcoming. It was my little Paris home. 

And tomorrow, if I pass my COVID test today, and if neither of my flights is canceled, I will be back in my little Boulder home....