Adventures through the Wilderness!

We’ve spoken of the mysterious big rock since well before my family’s arrival last week. On my mother’s dresser there stands a framed picture of Alex as a little boy, balanced at a precarious angle with the house in the distant background. From the beaches we frequent so often (including the one we enjoyed earlier this afternoon), the rock glows like a giant gray beacon, mocking us in our inability to find it. Since the photo of my brother at age 8, we have yet to navigate the wilderness and enjoy all the rock has to offer.


(the view from the notorious rock)

This year we were determined; my father in particular. Today I took my shower, casually meandered downstairs, and took a seat next to my father on the “nappy chairs” – two nice, wooden lounge chairs with creamy white pillows that are so comfortable it’s nearly impossible to stay awake while lying in them. I probably sat for thirty seconds before I turned to B and proposed an adventure. “Let’s go find the rock.”

He put down his book immediately and shouted for my brother to come outside, and off we went. Our first attempt was a huge failure – after literally hacking our way through the underbrush and cutting our shins to the point where they were sticky with blood, we found ourselves no father than the View just steps from the house.

But we are persistent, the Michel’s. We marched right back up the driveway searching for an alternative path. Our second attempt led us back to the small rock Alex, Becca and I watched the sunset from not two days ago, but we were after bigger and better things. We climbed down the far side of the little rock and again entered the dense woods in search of our prize. We were doubtful at first; paths looped in circles to intersect with each other, the woods were terrifying with their grasping branches and howling leaves, the boars were ever-present with snorts and grunts and loose dirt where they’ve been digging for dinner.



As we scaled the mountain, I noticed the woods transforming. Ages ago there was great fire that completely leveled all the greenery on one side – but that is a story for another day. The other side, the side we don’t see often, is still thick with giant pine trees, their trunks widened by age. These forests we struggled to navigate today reminded me so dearly of New England: dry pine leaves carpeted the forest floor, the scent of greenery filled our nostrils, dusty beams of orange sunlight glowed through the roof of treetops. And just as I lost myself in the surroundings reminiscent of home, I heard my father scream with joy.



SUCCESS!!! We found ourselves suddenly standing at the base of an enormous rock. The treacherous slope couldn’t deter us – we climbed our way to the very top and stood proudly overlooking the land below. Then, of course, it was time for our victory bottle of wine…



As we watched the sun set and basked in the glory of our success, we carefully took note of our surroundings and happened upon another path directly behind us at the top of the rock. After the both the sun and the wine disappeared, we decided it would be easier to take this path rather than fight our way through forest again. We were right. This path took us right to the Route du Phare (the road leading to our house) without struggling through thorn-bushes and dead trees.



Along this path Alex also managed to find me a nice place to stay for the two weeks in July during which I can’t live at Chez Michel. My only complaint was I’d have to share my bed with a two-foot long lizard…

The walk was easier and shorter on the way home. We marched down the driveway triumphantly, reeking of success. Apparently Becca thought we reeked of something else, for as we arrived she politely informed us that we smell French. Unfortunately we are allotted only one shower a day due to extreme heat and water shortage, so I guess we’ll just continue stinking all night…



Time for yet another elaborate home-cooked French dinner!