Home base, during our week in France, was the relaxed, charming village of Amelie les Bains located in the far southwest corner of France--very close to the Spanish border. After my arrival, I was embarrassed to learn that I had been mispronouncing Amelie each time I had cornered someone to tell him or her about my unexpected opportunity to visit France. It is Amelie (short A) lay Bahn...not ever Amelie (long A) la Banes as I had so often said. Natives most often just call it Amelie. This view, from our front window, includes the nearby Pyrenees foothills, a glimpse of Gaynor's patio and some of the surrounding homes. We drank in this view every morning with our coffee and tea. It is a gift from heaven to vacation with a group of women who ease themselves into the day one steaming cup at a time.
Amelie is a small village of about 3,700 souls. It has a laid-back atmosphere, small daily market and thriving tourist trade "taking" the hot, steaming waters that have been springing out of the ground at least since the 600s when the Romans began to capitalize on them. I'm told that in France, if you have a doctor's prescription, the government will pay for a cure at the hot baths. Two weeks in Amelie, all expenses paid. The area near the baths are exclusively doctors' offices, pharmacies, and picturesque small hotels.
This photo shows the lobby area of the baths which are built on the remains of the early Roman baths. The lovely Romanesque building is purely medicinal while its neighbor, the spa, is hedonism run rampant. Linda and Gaynor had taken a turn there the week before we arrived and, to the credit of the spa, they still looked great!
Nearly every afternoon we wandered into town, finding a new street with shops to explore. Then, we secured a table at a small café for our afternoon coffee, hot chocolate, wine or beer. It's a lovely lifestyle--one I could grow into within minutes.
Each day, as we walked into the village proper from Gaynor's home, we crossed this lovely river--the Tech. It flows clear and strong and--much to BC's excitement--hosted the international trout fishing contest in the mid 1990s. When he saw the pictures, I could tell he really wished he had been there.
I often hear people mention how snobbish the French are...how they're just rude. We didn't find that. As I was reading Rick Steves before we left the U.S., he described the French as a formal people. Not unfriendly, formal. One greets the shopkeeper as you enter the door. Bon Jour, Madame or Monsieur. It's expected, it's customary, and it takes very little effort. And, again, as you leave, say good-bye--in French if possible. All conversation in between is comfortable and not unlike here in the U.S. Sure, it's a little more difficult if you don't speak French or they don't speak English, but plain old friendliness and courtesy go a long way. It worked well for us.
I've always been a sucker for a balcony--large, small, or simply hinted at as on this lovely building. Geraniums are one of the greatest flowers ever. They can make peeling paint and cracked walls look elegant.
These photos (and many more) were taken on our first day in Amelie. Denise and I had been up for more hours than human beings should, so by this time, if we weren't in motion we were nodding off. It was time to wander home, sip a little wine and snuggle into our cozy beds.
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