My visit in the hinterland of the Auvergne region was definitely a big highlight of the trip. Marc Cubertafont was a very gracious host. He’s a couple of years older than me which must have been a big deal when I was 15 and saw him last. So much had happened in 49 years. Possibly I have more deep memories of my visit in 1966 than he had. I felt bad when I found out that this week he was with his wife, daughter and grand-daughters in Montpellier on the Mediterranean. He had to come back early to meet up with me. Maybe I hadn’t made it clear that I could have come other times but it wasn’t worth revisiting that now. He didn’t complain to me.

A few centuries ago, Marc would have been a nobleman. He owned about 50 plots of land and had been the assistant mayor of the area. His full-time job had been head of the tax collection office in the area until his retirement a couple of years ago. He would have been very much a hands-on nobleman. He rented out lands, sold timber, and oversaw his traps. He loved more than anything else being in the country. Walking in the woods, hunting, and fishing were his favorite pastimes. It’s possible much of his land came from his wife’s family. His wife preferred the city and they had a house in Clermont-Ferrand which she liked going to.

I have several strange small memories of my trip here in 1966. One was that the coffee was served in large bowls. Back then they added milk which was not homogenized and therefore lumpy. Marc served me coffee in the same type of bowl without milk. The milk is normal now. IMG_4622

We drove to Herment, which was my home town during that time. It’s population was closer to 400 then and probably below 300 now. Marc’s mother prepared a fabulous meal for us. There were maybe 6 courses, starting with a beautiful salad, continuing with pate, steak, cauliflower in cheese sauce, a couple of things I forgot, and of course cheese at the end. IMG_4627 IMG_4631 IMG_4628

We then walked all around Herment, which was a thrill for me. Our first stop was at the “Promenade des Anglais” or English Promenade. I remember asking a friend of Marc’s back in 1966 what people do in Herment and his answer was “On se promene”, meaning people walk around. We played what I thought was called “joue de boules” or bocce ball but Marc corrected me that what we played was called “petanque”. It’s essentially the same game but joue de boules is played in a formal court with very strict rules while petanque is played anywhere you want with looser rules. In 1966, we went with some of his friends to this Promenade and threw a little ball forward. Then the two teams would try to take turns throwing larger balls with the objective of having the ones you threw be closer to the small ball. After throwing all the balls, we would start from where we left off and advance along the Promenade. After a few hours we would have gone through that entire Promenade, maybe more than once. IMG_4649

Marc and I passed the central park where there was a memorial to 16 Jews who were taken from Herment to their deportationin 1942-1943. The sign says at the bottom “Only Ernest Nives came back. Remember this as you pass by.”

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Hard to believe it had been 49 years since Marc and I walked around Herment. IMG_4692

This plaque describes a tradition of the village that Marc did when he was 18. Every year, eight 18 year olds proceed in a procession carrying rifles and shoot at several locations and people are supposed to give them money. They do it to honor the patron saint of the village, St. Roch. He knew several of people in this plaque.IMG_4756

I stayed three weeks in this hotel / restaurant that Marc’s grandfather started. Marc’s brother ran it until last year but had to close it down when Herment’s economy like many rural economies were struggling. Now it’s the residence of his brother and his wife and daughter. IMG_4775

Marc, his mother, and me in Herment. IMG_4776

My room in 1966 looked out the back garden and every day I enjoyed looking at a rabbit in a cage. One day the rabbit was gone. When I was eating dinner, I asked them what the meat was and of course it was rabbit. I couldn’t eat and was very sad about the rabbit. I told this story to them today and they found it funny. I could laugh about it now.

IMG_4779 Herment’s claim to fame is its church, which goes back to the 13th century. It’s really beautiful and has great acoustics. IMG_4788\

A friend of Marc’s invited us to visit him. Christian was a wild man. His house was way in the bush with a small windmill and water gurgling everywhere. His house was confusion. He had a massive wine collection, watch collection, and many other hidden treasures. He didn’t look 70 years old. He was retired from a big financial company and wanted to get away from the craziness of the world to his own craziness.
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For the entire time I was there he was offering food and drink. All the food came from nearby. There was pate, moldy cheese, some more rare type of pate, mushrooms, breads, and cookies. We started with a bottle of champagne and moved to what he said was a $120 bottle of wine. He had this way about him that you couldn’t say no. I fully intended to say no several times but there I was, consuming whatever he brought out.
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Marc is drinking Pastis. When I was in Clermont-Ferrand in 1966 for a week before going to Herment, we went to a party. I drank far too many Pastis and got sick. To this day, I cannot drink Pastis or any other licorice flavored drink. Marc got a big kick out of that memory.
My trip in 1966 had a big impact on me. It made me appreciate much more other cultures. It helped me to briefly break away from my teenage issues back home. Since then it has reminded me of how much I appreciate other cultures and also people in my culture who are very different from me (maybe that’s everyone).