Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
18
A Feast and an Odorous Beast
“
Voici mon domaine
(here is my land),” he panted, spreading his arms proudly.
We were faced by a vast wild expanse of open countryside, the major part of which was
pitted with valleys rising steadily to what, to the untrained eye, looked very much like more
mountains. There were no visible fences and no other buildings in sight. This was as close
to a natural setting as one could get. I searched vainly for some kind of marker.
“So,
monsieur
,” I said, “where are the boundaries of your land?”
In response he flapped his hand rather vaguely in each compass point direction leaving
none of us any the wiser. Further interrogation revealed that
monsieur
didn't have any border
fencing, there apparently being no need because each of his neighbours knew where their
land began and ended. In any case he was not a great supporter of barriers because they
prevented the free flow of game and had to be repaired. But this still wasn't getting us any
closer to understanding where the
domaine
limits lay.
Further gentle probing revealed that I had involuntarily asked rather a tricky question.
Still looking clueless,
monsieur
turned and spoke hurriedly with Thierry who nodded aristo-
cratically. Thierry then thrust his hand into his natty man-bag and produced a French Ordin-
ance Survey map together with fat marker pen. This
monsieur
used to great effect by draw-
ing many lines and circles that could well have represented the legal limits but I don't think
any of us were convinced as to their accuracy.
Once the search for boundary limits had been well and truly exhausted and Thierry's
map comprehensively defaced,
monsieur
looked up much relieved. He then explained that
this was the spot where he used to spend most of his time hunting
sanglier
(boar), which
was his real passion. (All Frenchmen clearly
must
have a passion.)
Jack was still completely rapt and innocently asked when he was last out shooting. Then
the awful truth was revealed.
Monsieur
, all eyes downcast, with a stricken countenance ex-
plained that he could no longer hunt. He had been involved in a serious hunting accident the
year before, the result of which was the loss of sight in his 'leading' eye. That, he explained,
was why he was forced to sell his hunting paradise.
It was one of those situations where one could only feel immense sympathy for this
great lump of a man who, in that moment of explanation, was close to breaking down in
