To market to market

So for our final day is Paris, we decided to stay local. I had intended for us to do montmarte and Sacre Ceour, along with rising early to get up the Eiffel Tower.... as it seemed mandatory for Tim to at least do those things. However when I put it to him, he replied "I will do them when I come next time". I half entered into a lecture about when next time would be, and then realised he was right. He will probably be back here sooner than I.
What he really wanted was to stay away from the metro and enjoy being here at Stephane and Louise place. Awesome decision.
Aunty Louise drove us first to a dairy farm Ferme de Coubertin, which supplies raw milk and yoghurt. They drink mostly long life here, except for those who use the local fresh supplier. From there we headed to the market. That was hands down the best experience yet! Sam and I loooooved it.
Basically it's loads of deli style stalls, food set behind glass, of everything imaginable. This is where most do their weekly shopping. There are lots of similar stalls so you get the joy of being picky. The fish stall, did every seafood you could think of, crabs, lobster, flounder, tuna, mackerel, trout, shrimp,  snails and so on. Everything is fresh, brought in from yesterday's catch, the crabs and lobsters still alive, so walking past the fish market was akin to stepping into the fresh seaside, no retracting odours. The meat options are mind blowing. Not a single inch of any animal is wasted, you can buy the heart, kidneys, liver, thyroid, tail and everything is presented as wholesomely edible. Thus, you get a meal creativity which is far from the limitations of supermarket mentality. The chickens still have their heads and feet attached, and are a yellow sort of colour, so apparently more healthy than the anaemic white versions common in NZ. The cheese stall has probably 100 different  choices, and they slice off what you need, as opposed to the valumetric plastic wrapped chunks. The fruit and veges available are seasonal and loaded with flavour. At any stall you purchase from, you are asked when you plan to eat what you are buying. The reason being that they will choose what will be best for when you want to eat it. When we bought quartre figs, and told them we were eating them that day, he made sure to choose us ripe ones. Then there are stalls of deli,s, precooked meal stands, crepes, bread, flowers, linen and so on.
The whole process is not a hurried mad affair, there is a serious and slow attendance to the process. You don't get shoving and screaming kids, stall owners are eager to engage with children and encourage them learning, trying and enjoying food. When Amy chose a bunch of cherry tomatoes to snack on, her purchase and chewing was met with nods of approval and joy. The food isn't any cheaper than NZ really, except that the French do not scrimp on food. They're not wasteful or excessive, but eating well would be their greatest priority.
Cereals, cleaning products and other items are obviously bought from the grocery store

We left the markets beaming and came home to eat lunch of couscous, mdeterranean chicken stew and wine in the hot sun, on the deck. And bask in the quiet. It's so apparent here in France, and particularly in chèvreuse how much less noise there is to contend with. Shops aren't blaring music, your neighbours aren't cranking up their stereos, and thus, you find yourself naturally slowing down. After a siesta Louise drove us to de la Madeleine chateaux ruins which is idyllic. The view is incredible and I wish I could capture the feel of the place and bring it home. We then briefly stopped in to see the church of St Matin in chèvreuse, which happened to have a wedding on. We got to see inside before the guests came in. The church was constructed in 1609 and has a warm rustic lime and sandstone feel, ornate with stained glass windows. It's one of the prettiest I've ever seen. The bride arrived so we sat and watched the wedding guests and bride mingle, getting a feel for culture and admiring how the woman all wore dresses, and some men wore hats. We then drove to the chateau de dampierre and climbed the hill to stare over its magnificence. The whole trip Sam and I had our heads out the window, , trying to capture the sights and smells. We arrived home for dinner, a planned affair to celebrate our market choices. We had salami and pâté en croute for our appertif followed by dinner of baked potatoes, courgettes and barecued horse meat kebabs. That was followed by Camembert and epoisses cheese, grapes and figs. Bats flew around us while we ate and we admired the little mole hills in the backyard. I crashed into bed while Sam tried to capture the hopefully last race of the Americas cup, which was postponed... So we will have to find ourselves a kiwi pub in UK tomorrow and watch it with fellow loyal folks. In the morning we head on the Eurostar to London. Can't wait to watch Sam come alive in his home country.