Day 30: Relaxation

After a breakfast of muesli and soy milk, I got to work. Michael told me not to work too hard this morning; I had two massages scheduled for this afternoon. I moved all the things that were on the porch of the massage hut up the hill--there was wood, trash, tools, etc. Michael's friend Patti was excavating some tree stumps, and I took a break to talk to him for a while. He was born in England, moved to British Columbia where he welded dam parts, and now lives in Umbria, doing all kinds of work, from plumbing to excavating.

My next job involved putting up some chicken-wire fencing under the massage hut. The space beneath is where Michael keeps things to reuse and recycle, but it is quite unsightly, so some fencing with dried plants will conceal it. When I was done, I read on the hammock for a bit. We ate lunch and had a long siesta in the hammock. The temperature under the porch was perfect; warm with a cool breeze.

At five, it was time for my first massage, Michael. I worked on him until his lovely girlfriend Martina and her son came. It was then Martina's turn. She too is a massage therapist, so it was another great massage. Working in the hut is wonderful; all the sounds of the birds, the wind in the trees, and the setting sun pouring light in through the open windows.

The sunset was stunning tonight, a real treat on my last night in Umbria. Dinner was all in Italian. I could follow a few of the conversations loosely, and every once in a while someone translated something for me. After dinner, I laid on the couch listening to the conversation and reading.

Day 29: Breathing Easy

I woke up at 8:15, fully rested, and took a cold shower. After eating a banana, I got to work cleaning the pool. All the leaves were out, and all the water had been drained; all that was left was a layer of goop. I used a broom to sweep it to the middle, and a mop to clean up what was left. I got about halfway finished when the Italians came. We ate some breakfast, and
went back out to the pool. Since there is only one mop and one scooper, there wasn't enough work for all of us. I went to the garden, and tied the tomato plants to the bamboo stakes. Next, I went to the big tree in front of the house, which was being strangled by ivy. With a machete and a pair of gloves, I removed all the vines on the lower part of the trunk, and attempted to erradicate the roots. There were big spiky caterpillars all over the ivy, and the ivy had covered about a third of the bark on the trunk. I think it will breathe much better now.

When it was done, we ate lunch: rice, green beans, and fried zucchini flowers. After eating and writing yesterday's entry, I took a nap in the hammock. When I got up, Michael and I set up the massage table in the newly cleaned massage studio, and I got on the table. For the next hour, I was in heaven. It has been a very long time since I've received a massage, and it was wonderful. When I stood up, I could barely walk straight; my whole body had turned to mush. I made my way back to the house, drank some water, and sat on the porch in post-massage bliss. It was then Michael's turn to get on the table, and I gave him one of the most enjoyable massages (to give)
that I've given in a long time.

After the massage, we ate dinner. After dinner, I laid in the hammock and read for a while before bed.

Day 28: An Exchange

I woke up at 8:15, fully rested, and took a cold shower. After eating a banana, I got to work cleaning the pool. All the leaves were out, and all the water had been drained; all that was left was a layer of goop. I used a broom to sweep it to the middle, and a mop to clean up what was left. I got about halfway finished when the Italians came. We ate some breakfast, and went back out to the pool. Since there is only one mop and one scooper, there wasn't enough work for all of us. I went to the garden, and tied the tomato plants to the bamboo stakes. Next, I went to the big tree in front of the house, which was being strangled by ivy. With a machete and a pair of gloves, I removed all the vines on the lower part of the trunk, and attempted to erradicate the roots. There were big spiky caterpillars all over the ivy, and the ivy had covered about a third of the bark on the trunk. I think it will breathe much better now.

When it was done, we ate lunch: rice, green beans, and fried zucchini flowers. After eating and writing yesterday's entry, I took a nap in the hammock. When I got up, Michael and I set up the massage table in the newly cleaned massage studio, and I got on the table. For the next hour, I was in heaven. It has been a very long time since I've received a massage, and it was wonderful. When I stood up, I could barely walk straight; my whole body had turned to mush. I made my way back to the house, drank some water, and sat on the porch in post-massage bliss. It was then Michael's turn to get on the table, and I gave him one of the most enjoyable massages (to give) that I've given in a long time.

After the massage, we ate dinner. After dinner, I laid in the hammock and read for a while before bed.

Day 27: Sweetly Sings the Donkey

I woke up early this morning; I had a long day ahead of me. I packed up, helped clean up the kitchen a little, and said goodbye to Diane. I then headed, in a great rush, out the door. I had to get a receiver for mobile internet, come back to the apartment to get my stuff, and get to the station before my 10:45 train. The first phone store I went to, as I expected, didn't open until 10. I knew there was no way I'd make my train in time, so I hopped on a bus and headed back to the apartment, considering myself SOL. However, on the bus, I saw another mobile phone company. I got off at the next stop, backtracked to the store, and found that it opened at 9:30, which was in five minutes. Amazing. When it opened, I was the first customer helped. I was so relieved, and began the process of buying mobile internet. Then, he told me he needed my passport; Italy requires foreigners to show a passport to issue a new phone number. I panicked; I clearly didn't have time to go back and forth to get my passport before my train, and I begged the guy to let it slide, to no avail. I tore apart my wallet, and as I was about to accept defeat, I found a photocopy of my passport in my wallet. Every once in a while, I'm smarter than I think. He accepted it, finished setting me up, and left. I found a shortcut back to the apartment, grabbed my stuff, and was out by 10.

When I got en route to the station, I realized that a cab was worth it in all this heat and with these big bags. I hailed one, got in, and had nice conversation with the cabby. When we got there, he first asked for an extra euro for the luggage, and then realized he had no change, so he just took all my coins, which amounted to much less than what the meter said. I lucked out. I bought my ticket, ate some breakfast, and got on the train. Luckily, it was air conditioned, and the two hours went by quickly.

Michael, my new workaway host for the next few days, picked me up from the station in his blue Honda Jazz. He is 60, British (though his mom is Italian, he spent around 20 years in Hawaii, and has been living in Italy for about twenty years), but a very young 60, with a ponytail, fit body, and pants covered in paint. He is a musician and a massage therapist, and has a small farm around his home where he is learning about organic farming and permaculture by doing.

We talked the whole way to the grocery store, a long trip for food. We talked about workaway, massage, my journey here, etc. After shopping (we bought almost exclusively produce, everything organic), we went to his house. It is up a dirt road, and looks out on a valley and the rolling Apennine hills. It is right on the border between Umbria and Tuscany. As we drove up, the donkey brayed at us. The house is four hundred years old; and was originally lived in by sharecropping families. Now, it is a beautiful home, with hammocks on the porches, lots of instruments, and great vibes.

There is a young Italian couple working here too, and they had prepared lunch while we were out. We sat down for lunch on the front porch where all our meals are eaten. The Italians speak great English, and have helped me with some Italian as well. After lunch, we had a siesta; it is usually too hot from three to six to work productively.

After writing yesterday's blog, I laid down in the hammock, and napped. It felt great. When I work up, I helped the Italians work on draining the pool, and getting all the leaves out of it. Though there were enough salamanders and frogs that needed rescuing to employ a small country, there wasn't really enough work for all of us. So I headed to the treehouse like structure, that Michael is going to turn into a massage studio. I cleaned it out, measured the last few floorboards that need cutting, and swept it out.

By the time that was done, the Italians had headed in to shower, so I went and scooped some more leaves. Michael met me up there, and, during the beautiful sunset, walked me around, showing me what was on the little farm, and what he planned on doing in the future. Now, he has a small orchard, a horse, a donkey, and a large garden.

After a shower, I went out to the porch. Michael and I talked for a long time, while lying on hammocks, about American politics and the state of everything. The whole place is like a symphony; there are so many insects, ambhibians and birds singing. This place is very alive. There are lizards climbing all over the walls, snakes in the bamboo, and lots of plants.

We made dinner; a salad with a homemade tofu dressing, roasted red peppers, and bread. We weren't done with dinner until about midnight, at which point I read, and fell asleep.

Day 16: Many Meetings

We got up slowly this morning, and ate poached eggs with bread, cheese and ham. I then tackled the task of packing all of my stuff. I drew out the process by calling the family I lived with when I was in France four years ago, in the hopes that we could meet for dinner tonight. When the packing was done, I headed to the workshop to finish the coat racks. It went better this time, and I finished in not much time. I sanded them, oiled them, and hung them temporarily for a photo op.

When this was finished, it was clean up time. We went out in the garden and cleaned up the wood and compost piles. We then moved to the little room in the garden, moved all the furniture out, and swept. Leaning on the outside of the workshop have been several huge beams that Garth took out of the house during the renovation. We brought those out to the pile of more huge beams. After some more crap-hauling, we were done.

We headed inside to do some swapping on the computer. While I made a playlist for Garth, he made one for me. We shared some photos and videos as well. While the computers did their thing, we set up some lunch, very similar to breakfast. It was then time to drive to Carcassonne to catch the train.

When we got there, only ten minutes before Cheryl's train. The ticket counters were closed, and the machines wouldn't take any credit cards. The trains that Cheryl and I were hoping to take were not listed. After Garth noted that no one was working at the station, I remembered my mom mentioning a strike that might be happening. And, as she predicted, it was. We scrambled a little trying to figure out my next moves. Garth offered to drive me to the highway to hitchhike to Avignon, but there seemed to be a train going in the right direction that was leaving in forty five minutes, so I declined. After hugs and goodbyes he left, leaving Cheryl and I in the station.

Cheryl watched my bags while I ran into the city to buy a pair of headphones. After I made my purchase, I looked around for a place to buy a Panach, a mix of beer and lemonade that I drank a lot of when I was in France four years ago. Unsuccessful, I grabbed some juices and jogged back to the station. We boarded the train, and took off eastward, no ticket in hand.

When we arrived in Narbonne, I collected my stuff and got off the train. As I was stepping off, I stopped. Right in front of me was a face I recognized. Taking a second look, I realized it was Peter Dutko, my good friend from Oberlin. I swear there are cosmic forces acting around me in strange, strange ways. After the shock, I turned around, got back on the train, and sat down with Peter and his sister. Excited and amazed, we talked about where we had been, what we had been doing, and everything else there was to catch up on. They got off at Sete for a walk around before winding up back home in Montpellier. I took it to the next stop, Montpellier, asked how to get to Avignon, and got back on the same train to Nimes. From there, I took a bus for about forty five minutes.

My parents picked me up from the station. We typed my french family's address into the tomtom, Jill, and drove there. I called as we pulled up, and my French father guided us into the driveway. It was so good to see them. After lots of hugs and hellos, they invited us onto the patio for drinks. My French brother Guillaume is studying in Touluse, so he wasn't there. Marion, my French sister hasn't changed a bit; she's still small, cute, and very, very quiet. The house is much more finished than when I was there, and they have a real swimming pool now. When I was there, they set up a blow-up above ground pool; the most popular spot around.

We spoke in French all night over a huge feast of grilled meats, soufles, and melons. It felt amazing to see them, to bring back memories, and to bring my two families together.

After a loud and animated meal, a delicious pear tart for dessert, and a photo sharing, it was time to head home. We got back to the hotel in St. Remy de Provence, and fell into bed.

Day 15: La Dernier

My last day of work started slowly. I had to figure out my next moves, connect with my parents, and I got to speak to my lovely Hannah who is far off in India. By about eleven, I was ready to get to work.

My first task was to oil all of the wood on the exterior of the house. Around each window, and in some random areas where a door used to be, are beautiful old pieces of wood. I brushed linseed oil on the beams, giving the wood a warm, dark tone and bringing out the details. This really pulls the exterior of the house together. I was very nearly finished when I was pulled away for tea time, and finished not long after. We then ate a quick lunch.

After lunch, Garth and I struggled to put the sculptures in the car. They are gorgeous metal sculptures, with profiles of faces that sit on top of wine glasses and bottles. The base, however, is almost solid concrete, and therefore outrageously heavy. We got them in safely, and got on the road. I had to either duck or lean forwards during the ride to avoid the sculptures. After a twenty minute drive, we arrived at Garth's friend Sophie's wine domain. She inherited the domain from her parents, and has been running it on her own for several years. All around the village are her vines, covering rolling hills, with the still snow capped Pyrenees in the distance. We met Sophie's mom as we unloaded the works of art commissioned by Sophie for the Salle de Degustation-the tasting room. Sophie came up from the vines, sweaty from setting up the wires for new growth. Sophie is lovely and sweet, and speaks little English, so we spoke almost entirely in French. She took us around, and into the cave, where the wine is made. There were six vats, each the size of a large bedroom, that, after harvest, are all filled with fermenting grape juice. She then invited us in for some grape juice, before we went on our way, two boxes of bottles of rose in hand.

Our next stop was the super market, where we had to buy provisions for the soiree tonight. We also stopped by the car mechanic, because Garth needs to replace his headlights.

We got back, unloaded the car, and I got to work welding. I first had to cut the handle at an angle, so Garth held the piece while I worked the metal chop saw. I then began to weld. It was quite easy this time, the metal was mostly thick enough, so it didn't melt too much, and my joints were strong and fairly clean. I then began work on the second, which was not so easy. After pulling my work apart several times due to the many axes I had to keep straight, Garth called me in.

I showered, and began to help him prepare dinner. Sophie came early, so she helped set things up. I lit the fire, and we opened a bottle of her rose, and we started a game of petanque, garth and me against Sophie and Cheryl. We were destroying them until Stephan rolled up on his bike. He took one ball, and began to set the girls on course for a comeback. The game ended with the guys just ahead of the girls plus Stephan.

As the massage table was still in the garden, and Sophie has been working hard in the fields, I gave her a massage. The fountains, light, and music made the garden the perfect setting for a massage. Halfway through, Alvin and Andrea showed up. When Alvin was finished trimming Garth's already short hair, and I was finished with sophie's back massage, I sat in the chair. I told him to give me a haircut that would make my mom happy, and here's what I got:

We then sat down for dinner. There was fresh baked bread by Alvin, oysters, grilled sardines, and salad. We had a wonderful time, they are a great group of close friends, and a pleasure to spend time with. After dinner, we fed the weeds from the garden to the fire to try and smoke out the mosquitoes, to everyone's amusement if not relief from the bites. After some dancing, Sophie went home, and Stephan rode out not long after her. We went inside. Andrea and Garth looked around the house, Garth taking as much helpful advice as he could from the master builder. Alvin and Andrea then headed out.

The night ended, of course, with an episode of So You Think You Can Dance, probably the last one I'll be watching for quite a long time.

Day 14: Winding Down

Today was the day I was to finish taking the render off the walls. It was a beautiful day. After breakfast, I got on the ladder, ready to knock out the last bits. Of course, what looked soft and easy to pick off had withstood a hundred years of tunneled winds, and was hard as cement. Where I could, I used the pneumatic pick. However, I couldn't take it all the way up the two-story wall, due to its weight and tendency to kick back at times.

Just before lunch, I finished. Still full of momentum, I went to the garden and pulled out some tenacious vines, flowers, and a tree that persisted after being cut down in full years ago.

We ate lunch in the garden, and then took a siesta. I read in the hammock until I dozed off for a few. When I got up, I swept and shoveled the lyme into buckets, ready to take to the dump. Garth and I dumped the render, and stopped by Alvin's. He and Andrea have made a lot of progress on the swimming pool, and it looks great. After inviting them to dinner for tomorrow, and requesting a haircut (as Alvin was a hair stylist for 14 years before he became a photographer), we headed to the Roquetaillard dump to look for metal scraps. The first thing we found was exactly what I was looking for: a pitchfork. We rummaged around, collected a few bits of interest, and saw a huge green lizard. We drove up the hill, back home.

Looking at the two metal gardening utensils, I decided that curling the tines instead of attaching steel balls to the ends would be more elegant. I started up the fire, and waited for it to heat up. After a short tutorial, I got to work. Metal work in the fire--could I be any happier? After working for an hour or two, it was time to clean up. After a shower, Garth and I dragged the massage table outside. I gave Garth a massage, while the veggies were on the grill.

We had dinner, and then played a vicious game of petanque. Garth took the lead early, and kept it, beating me this time around. After coming very close to finishing my book, I fell asleep.

Day 13: Fete de la Crap

I woke up this morning ready for a day of hard work. After breakfast, I headed up the ladder to finish picking off the render. This was probably the greatest test of my courage yet this trip. The wind was blowing ferociously, so I feared being blown over and I had dust pouring into my face, nose, and eyes. On top of that, I was working directly over a beehive. We plugged it up so bees could not get out as I whacked their hive with a pick, but as the bees returned home, they flew around, confusedly trying to located their hive.


When this was finished, I began to work on getting some concrete render off the walls lower down. For this I used the pneumatic pick. I worked until tea time, then until lunch. After lunch I forwent a siesta to work on the welding I thought was finished; it had not withstood the test of time. It is much stronger now.

After welding, I got back to work on the wall. I finished everything at around 5:00, and had one more task to complete. For the wall to look really good, I painted the metal beam that supports the front door. The wall looks great.

After cleaning up, it was time to go to Limoux for the fete de la musique, a France-wide festival of music. On street corners all over France, bands play, and big acts perform too. When we got to Limoux at about 6:30, the main stage was empty, and there was another little stage with a bad DJ. We met Stephan for a drink in the main square, and the main acts began. There was a women in her forties singing French classics from the sixties, mixing in some American classics such as the song from Titanic. She was backed up by a recorded track. Alternating in with her was a man in his sixties, singing equally bad, prerecorded French classics. After I danced once with Cheryl, and the drunk who was cheering almost asked her for a dance, Stephan and Cheryl and I decided to look around for more music. Garth headed to Alvin's for a dinner party, promising to return at 11. After walking the whole city and finding nothing, not even an open Creperie, we ended up eating dinner in one of the restaurants in the square. After eating, and subjecting ourselves to more of the same performance (trust me, the songs got better each time he sang them), we headed into the bar to watch the Spain/Honduras game. The bar was empty; I think the French have given up on the World Cup this year after their embarrassing defeat.

After the game, Stephan went home. His house is on rue Paussifile. Say that out loud. Cheryl and I took a walk around Limoux, down to the water, and then back to the square, where Garth picked us up, fresh bread Alvin had just baked in hand. After a small glass of Banyuls, a Port-like wine from the coast near here, I headed to bed.

Day 12: Recovery

The first time I woke up this morning, I was gripped with panic. I heard a car engine start, and I thought it was garth's, my ride. After refuting that thought, another, equally frightening thought was that Thomas, Garth's brother, and the one operating the car, had to pull forwards to get out,
right through my temporary bed.


Garth woke me up for real at about nine. I sat up slowly, the morning light was bright and gorgeous. Soon, we were driving back towards Thomas and Alice's home. We arrived to find Thomas asleep, the girls chipper and playing, and Alice nursing a hell of a hangover, lying on the couch while trying to supervise the children. I played with the kids while Garth made some tea and toast. Telula, the two-year-old, sported the cutest nutella mustache I've ever seen.

We lazed around most of the morning, shying away from bright lights and loud noises. At about noon, Garth and I headed to his friend's house, about ten minutes away. Jim, whom we met at the party last night, made a lot of money in London with an IT company, sold it, and now lives in France, enjoying himself and raising a family with his wife. They live in the maison de maitre, the largest house in the village, and have been renovating it. They have commissioned Garth to create a light sculpture that will hang in a cut out that spans three floors. After a perfect cup of coffee, and some photos taken of the space, we headed back to Thomas' house, to say goodbye and pick up Cheryl, who had passed out on an extra bed.

We got on the road, headed back home. On the way, we found a huge Sunday flea market, and decided to stop. I've never seen so much crap in one concentrated area. We walked around, stopped for a sausage sandwich, and then continued exploring the junk. I did find a nice little messenger bag, for a whopping two euros.

I fell asleep only minutes after returning to Garth's. It was a deep, beautiful, well needed Sunday afternoon sleep. I woke up around 7:30, helped prepare dinner, and we ate a delicious meal of mashed potatoes, salad, and duck.

After dinner we finished the last "ten minutes" of the SYTYCD episode Garth and Cheryl started before dinner, which lasted almost an hour. We decided against watching a movie, and crawled into bed, enjoying the warmth of the blankets and wood stove instead.

Day 10: Dust and Sparks

It's amazing how when a place gets smaller, it is actually bigger. The village I'm living in is home to 200 people. All the villages around are roughly the same size, the the biggest town in the area, Limoux, has a population of 20,000. Small. But when we went to market this morning in Limoux, we walked into at least eight of Garth's friends, and had breakfast with one. There is something very beautiful about walking into people, the spontaneity and organic interaction.

Markets in France are very special. Most towns have them on a certain day each week. They take over the main square, often several. As it only costs about 20 euros to set up a stall, people come with all different things of all different types and sizes. In Limoux, one square was filled with merchandise, and the other food. We walked through the food market, looking for some produce, bread and cheese, all of which were in abundance. This area is known for its organic farming, so lots of farmers bring their organic produce; and one even brought a rooster in a cage. We're not sure if he was for sale or for show.

We had coffee and ate pastries we had bought at the same café/bar as where we watched the world cup the night before. We left limoux, stopped in a grocery store for some things we couldn't get in the market, and then stopped by Alvin's place. We talked to them while they worked sealing the swimming pool with concrete and sealant. Then, Garth and I headed back to the house.

It was time to get to work. I worked on the plaster on the side of the house that faces the road. It's not a ton of plaster, about three or four hours of picking can take it up. It was dry, and the wind was blowing into my face. I could barely breathe, and was getting dust in my eyes even though I was wearing goggles. We sprayed it down to control the dust, and I got on my way. In between pickings, I used a pneumatic pick to take off some mixture of plaster and concrete around the door frames. Talk about fun.

At about five, I helped Garth affix the sculptures he made to their bases, by welding. I held them together and he welded it. When he was finished, we looked around to see what scrap metal there was around so I could make something. He found a small pitchfork, and remembered he had wanted to make a coat rack for the work shop. So, while he showered and prepared pies and dinner, I worked on that. For about three hours. Here is the work in progress.


At eight something, Garth tore me away from the workshop and I took a shower. We then ate dinner, and played Petanque, known in the US as Bocce Balls. Though Garth was talking lots of shit, I beat him handily, I think fifteen to eight or something. We then went through the nightly routine and went to bed.

Day 8: Picking and Pulling

We got to work earlier this morning, taking advantage of the bright sun while it lasted. I got right up on the ladder, and started working on removing the plaster from the outside wall of the house. It's a good workout, and quite satisfying watching large chunks of plaster fall twenty five feet down and crash on the driveway.

After doing this for a little less than two hours, I decided to preserve my back, and move onto a different task. After tea and cake in the garden with Garth, I began weeding. I started working around the house, pulling out the plants growing between the stones in the wall and on the street. I then moved into the garden, and got all the weeds out of the gravel that lines the path through the garden. After considering the damage to the chicken coop wall done by the ivy climbing up it, we decided it should come down, even though it was very romantic. So I spent a while pulling ivy off the walls. It was incredibly tenacious, and only came off in very little chunks.

When this was finished, I moved behind the chicken house structure, and began to weed what will become a little vegetable garden. It had plants easily up to my knee, and probably up to my hip, but they all came out with relative ease when I pulled. I found a toad at least the size of my hand, with the most substantial and expressive head I've ever seen on an amphibian.

I then came in and helped to prepare a lunch of gnocchi with delicious goat cheese, tomatoes, garlic and parsley, and bread with an amazing hard sheep's cheese.

After lunch, I headed back up the ladder. Not long after I got up, the thunder started. And then the rain. Just before the storm passed over us, I came inside. Then, the heavens let loose, and it poured. We ran around the house, frantically putting buckets under all the leaks. One whole portion of the house is completely unfinished, and has an old, rotten roof that let water pour in like a tap in several locations.

When the rain subsided, I got back up the ladder, and worked until 5:30, at which point half of the house was completely finished. The rain made the plaster soft, making my job much easier.

Garth told me to stop at 5:30, but I still had a lot of energy. I decided to get on the bike. After biking for about 20 minutes, exhaustion caught up with me, and I turned around. I had passed some goats on the side of the road, and when I got back, I headed straight for the goat cheese. I think the prospect of that goat cheese is what got me back up the hill. Nutella and goat cheese is, as would be expected, incredible. Try it. I took a shower, climbed into my loft, and read and slept for about one glorious hour.

After rousing myself from a deep sleep, I walked outside. The most incredible double rainbow spanned across the sky, originating behind the great line of windmills the next hill over. Thirty photos later, I walked back up the hill to Garth's, read the New York Times for a bit, and then we headed to Alvins. Alvin bought several conjoined houses for very cheap years ago, and has been fixing them up since. Each one is eccentric, and unfinished. His project this week is the swimming pool he is building. After going into three houses looking for a corkscrew, we found one, and opened a bottle of rose while alvin finished cooking dinner. We (Garth, Alvin, and an Italian friend and builder Andrea) took dinner in the library of the main house. It's dark; filled with photographs and candles. Dinner was good, and the conversation was hilarious. Between Alvin, Garth and Andrea, they have been all around the world, ran into each other and mutual friends over and over, and been in crazy situations with artists and art collectors.

Dinner was over at midnight. We drove back through the mist, and, when we got back home, the auditions for season seven of So You Think You Can Dance somehow showed up on the computer, so, accordingly we watched it.

Day 7: Cutting and Bending

It was cool when I woke up this morning; the kind of cool that keeps you in bed, the blanket tucked in under your shoulders and up to your neck. I did finally manage to pull myself out of the covers, down out of the loft I sleep in, and into the makeshift kitchen that is, for now, Garth's kitchen. It's interesting what gets done when when one builds their own house, particularly while he is living in it simultaneously.

After breakfast, my back was feeling a little sore, so I decided not to continue chipping away at the plaster. When Garth was finished getting things ready, I got to work. I had three tasks: taking sheets of galvanized steel and zinc, cutting them into litle rectangles, and bending them back so they lie flat; cutting the steel reinforcecements that held oak wine barrels together into strips with a chop saw for metal, and then bending them flat. See a theme? It was mostly nice work, jazz playing out of the stereo; the work not too tedious but not too serious either. Bending the long strips was hard work, I had to find the sweet spot where they would bend to flat, but not bend too much to create a kink or a bend the other way. I worked at this until lunch, and then for about two hours after lunch, at which point I was finished.

After I finished, Garth had gone to Toulouse to run some errands and pick up a friend from the airport. So after skyping with my dad, I got on the bicycle (Garth's; the not broken one). I set out with my camera in hand, and not a good idea of where I was going. I flew down the hill from the village, and biked through the valley below, stopping occasionally for a picture. Just as I was hoping to find another village, one showed up in the horizon, the silhouette of an 11th century church towering over the rest of the village. I biked into Magrie, then up above it, then back down into it, and walked around taking some photos.

I then continued on, making it to the next village, very similar looking to the last, walked around, and then headed back to Magrie. The biking was truly stunning, fields of grape vines stretch beyond the eye can see, speckled with rose bushes, broom bushes, poppy flowers, and little huts. I got a little lost on the way back, and ended up biking down to Limoux, the biggest town in the area. I didn't really see it, though, because I decided to turn around and get home. The last half hour was almost all uphill, but not too hard to enjoy. I made it up the last hill, got home, and took a shower.

Not long after my shower, Garth showed up with his friend Alvin. Alvin is a british photographer, who spends half the year in a town just down the road from here, and half in midtown Manhattan. He is a very interesting guy, and quite funny. We started in the garden, drinking blanquette de limoux, the predecessor of champagne, and eating chips and oysters. Blanquette de limoux was the first sprarkling wine ever created, and they are very proud of it in these parts. When we were finished, we headed back inside, finished preparing dinner, and ate duck, salad, potatoes, tomatoes, and bread while engaging in somewhat rowdy conversation.

After dinner, alvin showed us some photos. He started with the photos of the apartment he's been fixing up, all himself, so it is ready to rent out. I don't know where these guys get their handiness, but it sure is impressive. He then showed us some of his work. At least from the sample he showed us, he only photographs nude women. He has them jump on a trampoline, encases parts of their bodies in reflective plexiglass, and projects light onto them. The work was provocative, sometimes dirty, but also very beautiful. Though he walked us through some of his process, I am excited to spend more time with him and learn more about how he goes about his work.

Day 6: Chipping Away

After a breakfast of cereal, rice milk, passion fruit, and Nutella on scrumptious bread, it was time to work. My first task was very demanding, mentally and physically: cleaning the keyboards on the computers around the house. Mac keyboards, all jokes aside, were not made very well 6 years ago, and collect dust like its their job.

When that was done, I began work on the bike. I first patched the tire I blew yesterday, and then tried to fix the front derailer. Though it's not yet fixed, I did learn a good deal about derailers. I'll try and fix in tomorrow.

When I was finished with the bike, it was time for the fun stuff. I climbed high on the ladder and began picking off the plaster from the ancient wall of Garth's house. It was like archeology; using a pick to reveal new layers of old architecture. They really knew how to build walls in the middle ages.

I took a break for lunch, my right arm tired from the work. After lunch (bread, cheese, salad, gnocchi) and a little break, I got back up on the ladder, higher this time. I was working directly above me, and got tons of plaster in my shirt, my hair, my ears, everywhere. It started to rain, and then pour. I stopped working when the rain plus the plaster was dirtying my goggles too much to see. I headed into the garage, and pasted brown paper to a box to be sent in the post, and then scraped plaster (notice a theme?) off the plastering tools, so they'll be fresh and new when we re-plaster the wall.

I took a wonderful shower, longer than most due to my almost dreaded hair, and then crawled into bed to read and nap. After a perfect nap, I got up, helped cook dinner, which we ate in one of the studios (the one in which the loft I sleep in is situated) by the Gowdin, a treasure of a French wood burner.

After dinner, we headed up to watch the finale of season 6 of So You Think You Can Dance. Wow. They can dance. We then had a photo sharing, which was really wonderful. I showed Garth a lot of my work, and he showed me selections from his latest trip east.

Now, after reading the comments on my blog (thanks guys! Keep them coming!) it's bed time.

Day 5: Soaked

Today began with a grueling uphill climb on the bike. We were headed a few towns over, to a big flea market. The ride was gorgeous--straight up and down, through fields of grape vines, poppy flowers, and bright yellow broom, and along the river Aude, and through little towns. We spent a good deal of time at the market, looking through old books, playing with old cameras, and leafing through postcards dated between 1914 and 1960. We then explored the town, a fortified city with beautiful medieval architecture, amazing stone work, and the impressive ruins of a cathedral dating between the 9th and 13th centuries.

We then began our bike ride back, taking a detour to go the Sunday market in another town. As soon as we remounted our bikes, it began to drizzle. We continued on, and soon it was pouring. We decided to take shelter under some trees, but soaked through our clothes in a matter of minutes anyway. After the rain slowed just a little bit, we remounted, and biked the rest of the way in the downpour. We got to the market dripping wet and cold, and bought incredible pastries and bread, sat down outside a café, and drank hot cocoa and ate our pastries. Almond croissants are delicious.

After warming up a little, and buying goat's cheese, passion fruits, and licorice root, we got back on the bikes, and began our ascent to the top of the hill. The rain had subsided, and warm air lifted the amazing smells up to us, and bathed us in warm, wet, welcome air. The last bit of the hill was real tough, and when I had only about 59 pedals left to go, I heard my tire leaking. I made it to the top, took a few breaths, and then headed down for the long freewheel back home.

We prepared lunch and ate it outside, still in our wet clothes, but comfortably warm. After lunch I got out of my soaked clothing, and took a walk around the village to look around and take some pictures. When I got back, I got to work. I first sanded and painted a metal headboard that will be used as a railing outside a window. I then did the same thing, on one that is already in place on the second floor. When that was done, I helped Garth buff the floor he had just waxed. Doing this involves kneeling and scrubbing the floor with wool. It's hard work. When that was done, Garth prepared dinner while I talked with my parents and then tried to get the paint off my hands, and arm, and armpit in the shower, only about 50% successfully. Dinner was delicious, and then we watched more "So You Think You Can Dance" while I worked on the computer, and then massaged Garth's knees, and then it was bed time.