Our first day we woke in Normandy and I reluctantly laced up my running shoes and set out on tired hamstrings to explore more of the surroundings. We ended up staying in Le Neufbourg in a simple Airbnb. I ran through the streets, past the town, and into the countryside. It was the greenest place. Cows munched, barley grew, and I forced myself forward determined to run at least 4 miles. I felt like I had lead in my pockets but trodded along, resolute. I returned to find Tori packed up and I joined her as I called the realtor that I had previously conversed with about the village house in Normandy. She told me that she could not show me the house today and that I could perhaps see it on Monday. She also indicated that a family from Paris was coming on Friday and had booked a 3-hour viewing in the afternoon. I asked her if she would let me know if an offer was made so that I might counter, and she commented that I was greedy. Am I greedy?

She then went on to say that she might be able to call the current owners and ask them if they were available to show it to me. She did this while I was on the phone and much to my pleasure they agreed. Tori filled our strangely pink car with gas and I drove 30 minutes to St. Denis de-Gastines where this little house was located. It was a tiny village with one restaurant, a pharmacy, a boulangerie (thank God), a bank, a bar, and a hairdresser. What more does one need?

Tori and I walked into the restaurant very early – 11:00 am, and it was empty. The owner asked us if we were really ready for dejeuner (incredulous) and we nodded “yes”. She indicated that we should sit down and seemed highly annoyed. We didn’t see a menu but she presented us with a plate of delicious cold salads. I ate everything but the foie gras—–tried but couldn’t— and it clearly displeased our hostess when she retrieved our plates. The next course was delicious chicken in sauce, gorgeous potatoes, and vegetables. It was like Thanksgiving at 11:00 am in France on a Wednesday in May. I cleaned that plate and she asked us if we wanted fromage. Who doesn’t want a cheese course? It doesn’t matter that it was before noon and after a large meal on a Wednesday in May. When presented with the enormous platter of cheese, Tori’s first question was directed at me. “Can we eat all of this? Is this all for us?” It simply couldn’t be but here it was ….. a massive wedge of camembert, swiss, a chunk of butter, a gorgeous log of chevre, and Tomme Doree. We politely tried all of it and then felt a bit embarrassed. Perhaps this is what eating cheese in great quantities at 11:40 am is supposed to feel like. We stopped just short of eating half of it. We aren’t savages after all. The waitress offered us the dessert course and we felt very proud to refuse. Lunch had been consumed and we scurried out of the restaurant to make our way to the little house on the edge of the village that had caught my attention online.