Slow Life in France: A Holiday of Relaxation, Calm, History, Nature and Cuisine

A holiday of relaxation, calm, in contact with nature and history. 

These are the first ingredients that make up a visit to Auvergne in France, places not beaten by mass tourism, which allow you to visit enchanting natural places, made of volcanic areas, woods, characteristic villages and ancient culinary traditions.

The story of a journey by Carolyn Boyd published in The Guardian who made her experience a suggestion for those who prefer to discover areas that are not crowded, suitable for man, where fast food is not an appointment for lunch or dinner, but small taverns that offer you local cuisine with that typical hospitality of a family.

L 'Auvergne is one of the most sparsely populated areas in Europe and Le Roannais is a tapestry of golden and green vineyards and villages between the towns of Roanne and Vichy.

I knew that Auvergne was a land of volcanoes, spectacular regional parks and very few people, but in 16 years of writing about France, this slice of sweet rolling countryside and high forested hills almost in central France was a complete revelation.

After settling in our Airbnb near the town of Renaison - a house that probably belongs to the most welcoming and generous family I've ever met in France - we ventured into the local reservoir to see its biggest attraction: the tallest tree in France.

"How do they know which is the highest?" the boys questioned. "No idea," we admitted, as we wandered along the sun-dappled path under the tall Douglas firs to the famous tree, a towering 66 meters high.

It was recently planted in 1892, when the Chartrain dam was built to create the reservoir. Sure, it wasn't a 700-year-old, 100-meter California redwood, but gaining an average of 27cm per year wasn't bad; perhaps it simply flourished quietly in these heavenly surroundings.

After we descended along the bank to look up at its trunk, we continued to cross the top of the dam as the martins swirled overhead and the pelvis reflected the surrounding forest like a mirror.

A giant tree may win the record title, but it was the medieval villages in the area that won the beauty contest, with their crooked half-timbered houses, the abundant flowers and churches that boast the colorful tiled roofs you also see in Burgundy.

We fell in love with Le Crozet and Ambierle, as well as Saint-Haon-Le-Châtel, where we strolled through the narrow streets, the amber tone of the buildings that it glowed warm in the late afternoon sun.

We looked out from the ramparts looking across the rolling landscape, which stretches towards the Morvan National Park in Burgundy, and I was baffled as to why no one comes. here.

Although the beauty of the villages and landscape was a surprise, I had the feeling that we would eat and drink well. The gastronomic capital of France is Lyon to the east and Auvergne's main city, Roanne, is home to the Troisgros culinary dynasty: the family runs a three-star Michelin restaurant and two other casual restaurants.

They support dozens of local suppliers, including the Domaine Sérol vineyard in Renaison, one of the many vineyards of the Côte Roannaise, now managed by the eighth generation of the Sérol family.

The region's Gamay grapes create easy-drinking wines similar to those of Beaujolais. We visited the Sérols estate, which sits high up the hill above Renaison, then lowered our masks to sip their pale and rosé reds before snapping up bottles for around € 8 a glass.

We stocked up for alfresco dining at Les Halles de Renaison, a tiny but excellent food market with everything from a technicolor range of fruit and vegetables to succulent meat. For the cheeses, we chose Mons Cheesemongers, which has a global reputation and its outlets in London.

They made our mouth water at the stall of chocolatier François Pralus, a place whose father boulanger invented the decadent praluline, a richly studded buttery brioche of the typical pralines covered with pink sugar of the area.

Award-winning Père Pralus thought his son would ruin them when he became a chocolatier, but he proved him wrong.

Now he has shops all over France and his Barre Infernalein of various flavors is the most delicious confection I have ever tasted.

The hills overlooking Le Roannais - Les Monts de la Madeleine - were perfect for burning off calories.

On the hottest day, we walked in the shade of oak and beech trees in the Gorges du Désert, following a waterfall that usually gushes water but was only a trickle in the summer heat.

We emerged from the trees on the summit to admire fabulous views up to the Alps (on a clear day), then we went down to the village of Saint-Alban-les-Eaux , famous for its mineral water.

Another day, we ventured further into the Livradois-Forez regional park, to stroll among the purple heather and donkeys in the paddocks.

The lookout promised a view of Mont Blanc on the horizon, and although it was lost in the haze, the view was still breathtaking.

While the Le Roannais area is graced by its vineyards and farms, the Livradois-Forez regional park is a wilder place, its dense pine forests dotted with meadows and moors and small villages.

Its largest city, Thiers, has a population of just 11,000, which has halved since the beginning of the 20th century, but is the French capital of knife production.

Along the way, I stopped for lunch to savor a delicacy closely linked to commerce: Arconsat's cabbage sausage.

In the welcoming Auberge de Montoncel, Jean-Louis Garret - Grand Master of the Cabbage Sausage Brotherhood - explained how, in the 19th century, half of the working population of the city sold knives door to door.

One of these street vendors made it to Greece, got hooked on the local lamb and cabbage sausage and brought back the idea to make it his own.

In mid-November, the Cabbage Sausage Festival attracts 1,700 people. Jean-Louis serves it with a sauce made from the park's signature cheese, fourme d'ambert.

Famous for its mineral water springs, Vichy experienced its heyday during the reign of Napoleon III.

At the beginning of the 20th century there were 18 knife workshops in the Vallée des Rouets, whose millstones were powered by water mills on the Durolle River.

The city was teeming with more people than I had seen in a week, wandering around the dozen shops in the city and buying pocket knives, chef knives, knives for hunting, razors and elegant cutlery.

After a look into the most renowned shop, Coutellerie Chambriard, where the fourth generation of the family now advises customers which knife exactly suits their needs, I wandered around the narrow medieval streets beneath the imposing crossed wooden facades.

The end of the main road overlooks the valley towards the Chaîne des Puys, the row of extinct volcanoes for which Auvergne is most famous.

The most famous, the Creux de l'Enfer ("hell hole") has already been transformed into a center for contemporary arts.

If knife factories lack glamor, I found the opposite in Vichy, an hour away.

Famous for its mineral water springs, the city experienced its heyday during the reign of Napoleon III. Its myriad of architectural styles somehow combine to create a work of beauty, from the Art Deco facade of the former casino to the stunning art deco dome and church tower.

When I arrived, there were only a few people sitting in the shade of the decorated covered walkways that run between the spa, opera house and former casino.

But I couldn't help but wonder if, even in non-Covid times, his four-year stint as the seat of Marshal Pétain's collaborationist government during the World War II dented its reputation.

My guide Alla vigorously shakes her head at the suggestion: “We have 2000 years of history here. Why would four years ruin it? ”

Automatic Translation. We apologize for any inaccuracies. Original article in Italian.