August 29, 2010
The train to Limoges was very peaceful, and seeing Karine at the train station brought a lot of joy to my journey. When I visited her 10 years ago in Paris, she was the typical young French professional living the single life in a flat in Paris. Now she is a mother of two living in a beautiful old house in the heart of France in a tiny village named St. Leonard de Noblat (SLdN).
The train to Limoges was very peaceful, and seeing Karine at the train station brought a lot of joy to my journey. When I visited her 10 years ago in Paris, she was the typical young French professional living the single life in a flat in Paris. Now she is a mother of two living in a beautiful old house in the heart of France in a tiny village named St. Leonard de Noblat (SLdN).
SLdN City Hall
We couldn't stop talking throughout the ride to her house, knowing we had so much to catch up on the past 10 years. Upon arrival, I saw the real French countryside and the picturesque town that was part of the St. Jacques de Compostelle pilgrimmage and was listed in the UNESCO World Heritage Site. Coincidentally, that weekend, SLdN was having their annual agricultural festival and the town centre was barracaded. Karine's house was right next to the town square, hence we had to park outside of the enclosure and walked up.
We couldn't stop talking throughout the ride to her house, knowing we had so much to catch up on the past 10 years. Upon arrival, I saw the real French countryside and the picturesque town that was part of the St. Jacques de Compostelle pilgrimmage and was listed in the UNESCO World Heritage Site. Coincidentally, that weekend, SLdN was having their annual agricultural festival and the town centre was barracaded. Karine's house was right next to the town square, hence we had to park outside of the enclosure and walked up.
St. Jacques de Compostelle pilgrimmage
Karine's husband and children, Jean Marc, Enguerran and Amoury, welcomed me right away into the family. They also had some family guests, Nadia and Jacques, staying with them for a few days. It was truly amazing that despite the language barrier, we talked, laughed and ate the best French cuisine I could ever imagine for those 9 days. I didn't plan to stay so long but it was so relaxing and comfortable that it was hard to leave.
During my stay Jean Marc and Karine took me to many interesting places in the Limousine region, such as the Moulin de Got, an old paper mill that was still in operation, the Richard the Lionhearted route (La Route Richard Coeur de Lion), the Royale Limoges porcelain factory, and many beautiful towns and villages along the way.
The Royal Limoges porcelain factory
One of the most unforgettable and heartwrenching visit Le Centre de la Mémoire d'Oradour, where in June 10, 1944, the Waffen SS rounded up 642 villagers from the town of Oradour sur Glane, and executed them in cold blood. They seperated the women and children, locked them in the town church and set it on fire. The men were shot. The haunting walk through the memorial centre up to the skeletal remain of the old town set chills down my spine. The cemetary at the end of the town cemented the horror as I read names, often family of 5 to 10+, all died in that one single senseless moment. That visit made me realized that all the stuff I knew about WWII or any other war were so minuscule, limited and often filtered. This personal face to face experience was really an eye opener and forever form part of my own personal pilgrimmage.
The Oradour Memorial Centre
A burnt vehicle remain on the street in Oradour
The aftermath of the Oradour massacre
I learned a lot while staying with Karine and her family. In the end, when it was time for me to continue onward, I knew I will miss them tremendously. I will miss the quality time I spent with Enguerran, teaching him how to play backgammon using my broken French (and the kid beat me in the first game). I will miss Amoury running around and falling many times. He would then make everyone laugh with his flirtatious winks. I will miss Jean-Marc's handshakes photo collections, his wonderful crepes, and his trusted English-French dictionary. Last but not least, I will miss Karine's love of Great Big Sea, and of course, the many many delicious traditional French cooking that I was fortunate enough to experience.
One of the most unforgettable and heartwrenching visit Le Centre de la Mémoire d'Oradour, where in June 10, 1944, the Waffen SS rounded up 642 villagers from the town of Oradour sur Glane, and executed them in cold blood. They seperated the women and children, locked them in the town church and set it on fire. The men were shot. The haunting walk through the memorial centre up to the skeletal remain of the old town set chills down my spine. The cemetary at the end of the town cemented the horror as I read names, often family of 5 to 10+, all died in that one single senseless moment. That visit made me realized that all the stuff I knew about WWII or any other war were so minuscule, limited and often filtered. This personal face to face experience was really an eye opener and forever form part of my own personal pilgrimmage.
The Oradour Memorial Centre
A burnt vehicle remain on the street in Oradour
The aftermath of the Oradour massacre
I learned a lot while staying with Karine and her family. In the end, when it was time for me to continue onward, I knew I will miss them tremendously. I will miss the quality time I spent with Enguerran, teaching him how to play backgammon using my broken French (and the kid beat me in the first game). I will miss Amoury running around and falling many times. He would then make everyone laugh with his flirtatious winks. I will miss Jean-Marc's handshakes photo collections, his wonderful crepes, and his trusted English-French dictionary. Last but not least, I will miss Karine's love of Great Big Sea, and of course, the many many delicious traditional French cooking that I was fortunate enough to experience.
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