Over the hills, under the moon - and off the beaten path

Our village of Antraigues looks so peaceful from afar, but this weekend it sprang to life as the center of the annual Ardeche chestnut festival drawing neighbors from all over the surrounding Cevennes mountains. Crisp autumn air and the scent of woodsmoke greeted us as we walked out from our townhouse and into the square just as the festivities were beginning.  Villagers mingled happily, voices rising in laughter as they awaited the evening's revelries. Tables groaned under the weight of honeyed figs, freshly cooked chestnuts, wheels of soft cheese, and loaves of crusty bread.  The rich aroma of roasted meats drifted from fires crackling nearby, while children scampered about, their delighted shrieks echoing off ancient stonewalls. As darkness fell, an air of celebration took hold under the light of the full harvest moon.  Friends clustered together, clinking gla...

The ceaseless patter of autumn rain against the terrace has become the soundtrack to our mornings here in our village of Antraigues.  Ensconced in our townhouse we've settled into the worn sofa by the oil stove, a steaming cup of coffee at hand and books piled high on the side table. As the wind rustles through the changing leaves outside, we luxuriate in having nowhere to be but right here.  These quiet hours tucked away indoors while the world dampens seem a rare gift to be unwrapped slowly.  No distractions, just a pile of books waiting to transport us to other times and places. The morning light fades to a dreary afternoon gloom, urging us to turn on the lamps earlier than usual.  The warm glow from our lit candles  casts shadows across the cracking plaster walls, and the scent of simmering pot au feu, drifting in from Ritas  kitchen, hints at the pleasures of the evening meal to come. For now, I turn the page, taking comfort in the fa...

We have a house in the Ardèche region of southern France, and on our many visits,  we have explored the surrounding countryside, crossed its rivers and mountain passes, and visited its many beautiful, medieval villages.  We were actually beginning to feel confident that there were no major discoveries left for us in the area. The other day we were proven wrong! A local friend told us that there actually lie some hidden remnants of an ancient capital city just a few kilometers from our house. The more than 2000-year-old ruins of what was once the center of the Gallo-Roman country of Helvia lie atop the Jastre mountain, with no road signs or tourist brochures giving any indication of their existence.  They lie concealed by wilderness and have been lost to common memory for centuries. This we had to explore, and like two modern-day Indiana Joneses, we decided yesterday to climb the mountain and try to find this apparent ghost city. It was ...

Photo: Finn Tranter After several months of living in the perpetual glow of Paris, London, and Lisboa,  we're now back in our house in the small village of Antraigues in the south of France. We miss the pulse and excitement of the big cities but at least we have regained the inky blackness of the night skies. Here in Antraigues, far from the garish illumination of modern urban life, the sky remains unsullied, allowing thousands of glittering stars to reveal themselves, and we appreciate that it is indeed a rare gift in this modern world to find a place completely devoid of light pollution. In the cities, we can forget what an unfathomable multitude of worlds exists above our heads, but in this sleepy Volane valley, surrounded by black mountains, the heavens astound. Last night, we stood on a grassy slope outside the village and saw all the familiar constellations rising in their full glory -  the Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, Andromeda, the square ...