French Cows

They do not suffer from an ennui, which society can remove, because their coarse feeding and their ruminant habits make them somewhat stolid. Neither can they love society, as monkeys do, for the opportunities it affords of a fuller and more varied life, because they remain self-absorbed in the middle of their herd, while the monkeys revel together in frolics, scrambles, fights, loves and chatterings.

- A.S. Byatt, The Biographer's Tale

This photograph was taken in France, on our way to the Col d'Aubisque in the Pyrenees. I snapped it in the car with the window rolled down (I don't believe in getting close to big animals without a solid metal sheet between us and a window that can be rolled up again in a hurry). Now, I ask you, is that adorable or what? I'm not big on animals - any animal - but this sight of mother and calf actually made me feel kindly towards them.

Reading the Byatt book now, and coming across the quotation made me think of the cows I saw in France (and I saw alot), which was what sparked off this post. It all came rushing back - the icy air of the mountains, the ridiculous weather, the clanging of cow bells in the stillness, the endless foie gras, the 3-hour dinners, the shopping in the morning for a fresh baguette from the boulangerie, cheese from the fromagerie, jambon from the charcuterie (yes, you have to buy 3 items from 3 different shops (and queue 3 separate times) - it is quaint, but I think if I had to do this everyday I would go mad), the exquisiteness of its countryside (all paid for by EU subsidies, of course, but to hell with that, and anyway I'll rather pay for the upkeep of rural France than, say, 6-lane highways in Spain).

I know I was seeing France through a tourist's eyes, but I can't tell you enough how enchanting every day was, how achingly lovely everything - the hills, the trees, the mountains, the vineyards - looked. How can a country be this beautiful?