The Roof of France; Or, the Causses of the LozèreBetham-Edwards, Matilda
General
The Roof of France; Or, the Causses of the Lozère
Betham-Edwards, Matilda
Lozère (France : Dept.) -- Description and travel
We could not miss the way, our driver said, and woe betide us if we
did! We seem already to have found the city of rocks, the famous Cité
du Diable; so labyrinthine these streets, alleys, and _impasses_ of
natural stone, so bewildering the chaos around us. For my own part, I
could not discern the vestige of a path, but my more keen-eyed
companion assured me that we were on the right track, and her assertion
proved to be correct. After a laborious picking of our way amid the
pêle-mêle of jumbled stones, we did at last, and to our great joy,
catch sight of a bit of wall. This was Maubert; a square, straggling
congeries of buildings approached from behind, and of no inviting
aspect. A dunghill stood in front of the house, and hens, pigs, and the
friendliest dogs in the world disported themselves where the
flower-garden ought to have been. At first the place seemed altogether
deserted. We knocked, shouted, ran hither and thither in vain.
By-and-by crawled forth, one after the other, three ancient, hag-like
women, staring at us and mumbling words we could not understand. On
nearer inspection they seemed worthy old souls enough, evidently
members of the household; but as their amount of French was scant, they
hurried indoors again. A few minutes later a young, handsome, untidy
woman popped her head from an upper window, and seeing that we were
tourists, immediately came downstairs to welcome us.
She would send for her husband to act as guide at once, she said; in
the meantime, would we breakfast?
I am sorry to confess that this young mistress of the house--a bride,
moreover, of three months--did poor credit to the gifts Nature had
lavished upon her. Very bright, good-looking, amiable and intelligent
she was, but sadly neglectful of her personal appearance, with locks
unkempt and dress slatternly--a strange contrast to the neat, clean,
tidy peasant-women we had seen elsewhere on our journey.
The farmhouse, turned into a hostelry, only required a little outlay
and cosmopolitan experience to be transformed into quite a captivating
health resort. If, indeed, health is not to be recruited on these vast,
flower-scented heights, nearly three thousand feet above the sea-level,
swept clean by the pure air of half a dozen mountain chains, where may
we hope to find invigoration?
Even now non-fastidious tourists may be fairly comfortable. A large,
perfectly wholesome upper dining-room; bedrooms containing excellent
beds; a farmhouse ordinary with game in abundance; courteous, honest
hosts, and one of the marvels of the natural world within a
stroll--surely scores of worn-out brain-workers would regard Maubert as
a paradise, in spite of trifling drawbacks.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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