Restoration a la Mode in Provence

I had a twinge--only a twinge--of anxiety as the rather unremarkable French countryside flew past the window of the fast train from Paris. My daughter, Erin, and I were leaving the city of delight and comfort for two weeks of hard labor under the hot sun of Provence. Was this sensible? Would she--or I--end up hating France?

We had depended on access to e-mail on the early part of our trip. Now we were bound for a place with few modern conveniences--not even a telephone--and certainly no e-mail. I put my trust in her general good nature and my own daydreams of Provence and settled back to enjoy the ride.

Our destination was St. Victor la Coste, a medieval village being restored by La Sabranenque, a nonprofit organization. A friend had made several trips there to work as a volunteer, and last year it seemed like a good mother-daughter adventure for me and Erin, a college student in Colorado. We knew it would be hard work in spartan circumstances, but we were in good shape and enthusiastic about this opportunity to peer inside the real world of medieval Provence. We would be working on St. Victor’s castle--not a royal palace but a family’s hilltop redoubt where villagers sheltered during the feudal wars and religious strife of the Dark Ages.

At the train station in Avignon, we wondered how we would find the driver who would be waiting for us. Luckily, he found us first, along with two other Americans who would be working with La Sabranenque. We all piled into a van that any hippie would have been proud to own, say around 1968, and rode off to our working and learning adventure.

Marc Simon, an American who has been coordinating volunteers for La Sabranenque for 20 years, greeted us and sketched our schedule. Our first lesson was in the French work ethic: Up at 7, breakfast (coffee, bread and yogurt), report to the site at 8, break for lunch at noon to make sure everyone had time to get ready for the meal at 12:30. To a French person, eating defines the very quality of life, so all other activity is scheduled around that. Work resumed after lunch, but volunteers had afternoons off.

St. Victor la Coste is in the department of Gard just west of the Rhone River, about 15 miles from Avignon. Officially the population is given as 1,600, but the village seemed much too small for that number. It consisted of only a dozen or so streets and jumbled lanes at the base of a hill topped by a castle ruin.

La Sabranenque’s mission is to preserve medieval buildings by using medieval materials and techniques. The castle and its village were built between the 11th and 14th centuries. Restoration began in 1969, making derelict buildings habitable. We stayed in one of them, a multistoried rambling house with several common rooms, a bedroom wing and a couple of adjacent cottages.

Our quarters felt very old--pleasantly so. Down a cobblestone path, up stone steps and through a beaded doorway, Erin and I entered a high-ceilinged room furnished with antique desks and tables and a bookcase. I peered through the shadows into another room dominated by a large table, then into another with sinks for hand-washing our clothes, and yet another holding modern tiled showers and toilets.

Up a short staircase, a small hallway was flanked by two bedrooms. Ours was spacious and sun-filled, with light curtains fluttering around the open windows. A raked ceiling with dark wooden beams gave the room a cabin effect, which was furthered by the two metal-framed cot-like beds and the antique wardrobe in the corner. The room across the hall held several bunk beds tucked under the low eaves. La Sabranenque can accommodate up to 25 volunteers per session, and sleeping rooms are gender-segregated except for couples who wish to stay together. Bathrooms are unisex.

That first night, and every night, the entire crew of resident workers and volunteers ate dinner together on the house’s stone patio. Our view was of vineyards and rolling hills turned purple against the setting sun, and a sky the blue of polished sapphire.

La Sabranenque has its own chef, so multi-course meals in the finest Provencal style were served every day for lunch and dinner--along with, of course, plenty of fresh bread, salads, plates of cheeses and wine from local vineyards. The meals were lavish in size and presentation but homey, in the sense that we ate what the locals ate in the Provencal summer. Although the cuisine was not vegetarian, vegetables were abundant and deliciously varied, from casseroles to salads.

The vineyards around here are acclaimed throughout France for their roses. My favorite was from Laudun; it was a gentle rose that hit the spot after long summer afternoons.

We carried on a lively conversation that jumped between French and English, as the staff spoke enough English to fill in the gaps--and gaffes--of our French.

This is when we met Henri Gignoux, known to everyone simply as “Ginou,” a restoration expert and the founder of La Sabranenque. His warmth and enthusiasm carried us past the language barrier.

We found out that we would be working on the restoration of two castles: the one on the hilltop overhead and another in the nearby village of Chuscian.

But first we had the weekend to ourselves for exploring. We began with an evening walk through the village proper, which consists of two restaurants the size of a modest Starbucks, a tabac (a shop selling cigarettes, newspapers and other small items), a post office and a courthouse. All were tucked around the square, with a statue of St. Victor in the middle.

With the next day free, Erin and I and two other volunteers decided to go to Avignon. There’s no public transportation to St. Victor; the closest bus stop is several villages away. As we struggled with the village pay phone to call a taxi, a local resident offered us a ride.

Avignon is a picturesque town of tree-lined streets and outdoor cafes. Seven popes chose to live there, rather than in Rome, during the quarrelsome 14th century. It’s still a delightful place. People are friendly, and the shopping is fun. We found several shops selling beautiful fabrics in the colors of the countryside and sachets and soaps of lavender to take home as gifts. From almost every road we could see fields of lavender under cultivation; sunflowers too.

After a lazy weekend, it was time to get down to work. Five more volunteers had arrived--two Parisians and three Americans. Climbing almost a mile up a hill at 8 a.m. ended any lingering grogginess and prepared us for what was to come. Because there are no bulldozers, no cranes and no electricity at the castle, the work is done in pretty much the same fashion as the original: literally a hands-on experience.

Castles aren’t restored in a day; only patience with plodding chores and dedication to a vision will make them real again. Keeping that in mind, I spent that first morning using a trowel and a brush to remove dirt and loose stones from one of the castle’s interior walls, which another crew would tackle later in the summer.

As we worked, Ginou told us that the castle began as a chapel in the 11th century; a tower, living quarters, walls and ramparts were added later to create the fortress. Then, in the 17th century, the family dismantled parts to build their estate down the hill. Because of this, original stone is not available to fully reconstruct the castle, nor is there any desire to do that. The villagers decided that if the castle were fully restored, next would come roads, parking lots, traffic and tourists, and they didn’t want any of that.

Instead the castle is being stabilized and made safe for visitors who don’t mind hiking up to it. More than 300 years’ worth of weather and neglect have made the property treacherous. So while I spent my morning prepping a wall, others worked on removing bales of weeds. The unwelcome flora will be replaced with flowers, making a garden that is both romantic and poetic, reserved for those who seek it out or discover it on their own.

After lunch that first day, several of us felt inspired to take a walk. We hiked from sunny vineyards to a forest dense with cypress, oak and pine in a matter of half an hour, finally reaching the top of a hill that is noted for its view. It was spectacular. We could see our castle, vineyards and soft green hills rolling to the horizon.

Once we got home and enjoyed a soothing shower--reading or playing cards while waiting our turn--we discovered that castle building has a price. I developed a nasty blister; one fellow showed off a vicious bruise, and others felt aches and pains settling in.

On another afternoon, some of our crew went wine tasting, one rented a bicycle and rode to a nearby river for a swim, and I hiked with Alain, one of La Sabranenque’s resident workers who’s in love with the countryside and has spent years discovering its secrets. In the village of Lirac, he showed me a multichambered Neolithic cave that’s rumored to have been used by Druids. The cave was later converted to a church, in use to this day.

That night I went to sleep listening to the sounds of silence, one of the most pleasant aspects of my stay. Another volunteer said the silence kept him awake, and he slept with a Walkman plugged into his ears.

My daughter had her own problem with the remoteness of St. Victor. An L.A. kid used to electronic amenities and a busy social schedule, Erin was a bit lost without familiar entertainment--no Internet, no TV. One day, La Sabranenque treated us all to an outing to nearby Uzes, where street musicians played American jazz outside the huge open-air market. I relished the afternoons of hiking and discovery and the restful evenings, but Erin definitely needed the stimulation of a modern metropolis--preferably English-speaking.

One day at breakfast everybody was abuzz: More sand was needed to make mortar for the walls, and a helicopter was due to help us hoist it to the hilltop. We were divided into two teams: one down below to fill the copter’s bucket with sand, another to help unload it up at the castle. The helicopter was to make 30 passes in one hour, so everybody had to be in sync and ready to roll. I was part of the unloading team. It was a bit incongruous, waiting for the helicopter while standing in this medieval ruin with village and vineyards spreading at my feet, looking as they did centuries ago.

Since I had shown so much promise in dirt removal, the following week I was put in charge of carrying buckets of dirt to toss over the castle wall at Chuscian. My reward was a dazzling view of the Rhone’s silvery path. As Alain chopped away at stubborn tree roots and I removed the dirt and debris, we discovered a wall buried beneath the rubble. We continued digging and uncovered a small chamber that we thought might once have housed an altar. Everybody gathered round, ecstatic about this discovery.

That week we reached the high point of our work: wall restoration, which is more complicated than it sounds. We spent a day collecting and sorting a load of stones according to size, shape and beauty. The stones aren’t cut but used as is, so size and shape are important for stabilization of the wall and, of course, aesthetics: You want the beautiful ones to show.

On reflection, I’ve decided that two elements unique to La Sabranenque are what kept people working so hard with such enthusiasm: a communal spirit such as I’ve never encountered before, and the appeal of contributing to something that will endure. I may have left France, but part of my spirit remains forever behind in a castle.

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GUIDEBOOK

Digging Provence

Getting there: United, American, Air France and AOM fly nonstop from Los Angeles to Paris. Round-trip fares start at $610 on AOM for travel between March 31 and June 15; summer fares will be higher. Last week the lowest spring fare listed by the three other carriers was $966.

A first-class rail ticket from Paris to Avignon runs $110 one way in summer. For schedule and booking, see Internet site https://www.raileurope.com.

Getting to work: La Sabranenque can be reached only on the Internet, https://www.sabranenque.com. The cost is $550 for two weeks, which covers lodging and meals. Restoration work is done from April 1 through Oct. 30.

For more information: French Government Tourist Office, 9454 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 715, Beverly Hills, CA 90212-2967; tel. (310) 271-6665 or (410) 286-8310 (France-on-Call hotline), fax (310) 276-2835, https://www.francetourism.com.