Chalencon chestnut festival

IMG_0547I was all set to write this blog post last night. But I conked out by 9pm – took myself off to bed and felt guilty about missing a day of the blog post.

But it has been a full on weekend and I was in sore need of a long night’s sleep.

And you are all in sore need of news.  First up a warning: Artur is missing.  When it gets light (it’s only 6am) I need to go up and look for him. He is either accidentally locked in somewhere. Or he has staggered off into the forest on his last walk.

IMG_0548So that’s grim. But I can’t distract myself with that momentous anxiety right now.  I need to send you news of the Chestnut Festival.

It’s a big thing round here – what with us being the centre of the chestnut in this country.   For a month from October 8th to mid November there are eleven villages hosting these gastronomic  nut fests. And this weekend there was one in our close by village.

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(Shocking photos – what was I thinking? I do apologize).

I have only been once a few years ago. I recall tremendous crowds and crunching over roasted chestnut shells on the cobbled streets. Crowds aren’t madly me.

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And the event always seems to fall in the middle of my bulb planting season. I still have around 1000 to get into the ground and the narcissus need a good long winter of growth. So I am behind.

But luckily I had Lisa and Antoine over for the weekend and what a perfect thing to do with guests.

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Yes, Lisa has stepped out of the pages of this blog and made the huge trek over from the south west of France with her chestnut-mad husband Antoine.

Lucky me!  The weather was suitably gorgeous – that’s the drought for you. And we did the sensible thing of getting to the festival on foot. We parked up in the forest and took a little travelled village path to reach the perched village.

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I seem to recall massive traffic jams the last time I came.  But we did carry rucksacks for the booty.

We arrived just in time for a quick tour of the beautiful old village inside the defensive walls. And then it was off for a tour of a local chestnut farm with Jean-Pierre at the helm.

I love these talks: you come away fired up and energized and in sore need of attending to one’s own neglected chestnut forest.

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But it has already slipped to the bottom of the to do list. Bulbs!  Toil.

And the village planting.  I have grasses and bulbs to put in there as well.

A few hours of walking along the streets sampling the wares: chestnut and mushroom pizza, chestnut shortbread biscuits, you get the idea.  We did sneak away by walking up to the top of the village to marvel at the view.

A perfect place to spot our little mountain top poking out of the landscape.

And then it was back down and a plod home (collecting fallen nuts along the way).

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Post script. Found! He just ambled back here 24 hours after going missing. No explanation, no cried of glee (from either of us. I was too busy relieved but also cross!) Just back to his routine as if I haven’t spent ages looking for him. Grrr.

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