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

Antraigues usually looks peaceful, but this weekend the village came alive for the annual Ardèche chestnut festival, drawing people from across the 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, voices rising in laughter as they awaited the evening's revelries. Tables were loaded with honeyed figs, freshly cooked chestnuts, soft cheeses and crusty bread.  The rich aroma of roasted meats drifted from fires crackling nearby, while children scampered about, their joyful shrieks echoing off the stonewalls. As darkness fell, the festival really got going  Everybody clustered together, clinking glasses of chestnut beer and warming spiced wine.  At long tables, families shared platters piled high with food. ...

It has been raining for three days in Antraigues. This is not a complaint. The oil stove is going, Rita is somewhere in the kitchen with a pot au feu that has been simmering since this morning, and I am on the sofa with a book I have been meaning to read since March. The plaster walls in this house crack a little more each winter. The light goes early. By three in the afternoon we have the lamps on. There is a particular quality to a rainy day in a village of three hundred people when you have nowhere to be. The sound of it against the terrace. The smell of woodsmoke from somewhere up the hill. The fact that the only decision of the afternoon is whether to open another bottle before or after dinner. We have been moving more or less continuously for seven months. Cities, trains, new apartments every few weeks, the low-level administration of being always somewhere temporary. This is not temporary. This house has cracking plaster and a sofa that has been worn into ...

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

Photo: Finn Tranter After several months of living in the constant light of the big cities, are we finally back in our house in the small village of Antraigues in the south of France. We definitely miss the pulse and all the funny times in the big cities, but at least have we regained the completely black night skies here. Far away from the bright lights of modern city life, the sky is totally clear. It lets thousands of stars show themselves, and we really appreciate that it is a rare gift to find a place without any light pollution. In the cities, you quickly forget what an incredible amount of worlds there exists above our heads, but here in the quiet Volane valley, surrounded by dark mountains, the sky is just amazing. Last night stood we on a grass slope outside the village and saw all the familiar constellations rising - the Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, Andromeda, and the square of Pegasus. When we stood there and looked up into infinity, came a real...