Feeling at home in Massat, France.

Massat with snowy mountains on a lovely spring morning.

Our cycling trip could be called the nooks and crannies of France. As Rich mentioned we have a few anchors we plan around, and a house sit in Massat was one of these anchors. It’s a great feeling to be flexible enough to accept a house sit in rural France, tucked up a valley near the Pyrenees. We were up for the challenge of how to get there, and how to spend a week there without a car.

A leisurely ride up the Salat River.
We did not become immune to the beauty of the Pyrenees.

One of the cycling tricks we’ve learned is to ride through the traditional French lunch break, especially when we’re on roads instead of trails or bikeways. There is a rush of traffic just before noon, as everyone dashes to the bakery to buy bread for lunch, dashes home, or pulls over at a restaurant to eat lunch, but then we have the roads to ourselves for about an hour. So we either stop for our picnic lunch early or late, and pedal through the quiet time.

Enjoying a local craft beer in the town square of Massat.

At the brewery in Saint Gaudens we were told by the bartender that Massat’s own local beer, BIM, was very good, and that Massat had a lot of baba cools. He and Rich were conversing in French and English so it took us a while to figure out that baba cool is French slang for hippie. Fantastic! We’re San Franciscans at heart so we love hippies and the culture that comes with them.

Heading up the 150m/500 ft climb from Massat village over 2.7k/2 miles to our house sit. A curious local watches.
Our first days in Massat were sunny and warm.

Our wonderful hosts confirmed that the area did indeed have a lot of folks who lived off grid, and raised their own food, and helped create an easy going communal vibe. Like many small villages in France there was a lot of depopulation in the 1830s and 1840s. The thriving town of Massat went through crop failures and epidemics that saw the town shrink dramatically.

Always read the tourist information boards.
Right outside the butcher shop.

It’s not surprising that a hippie/back to the land movement saw Massat as a fantastic place to settle. It’s an idyllic place, with so many small valleys and farmland and houses that have been fixed up and maintained by French, German, and British, all with the underpinnings of a traditional French village.

We were certainly living the traditional life, walking or biking to town to get our food and wine.
And enjoying our lunch al fresco while the weather held.
There were hikes starting from our doorstep.
The trails wound past old stone buildings.
And homes reached on tracks that would possibly maybe accommodate a car.
Peaceful little valleys to see.
Farm fresh eggs to buy, watched over by a dog who observed us in silence.

None of the map or trail apps we usually use are useful in this part of France, but our host pulled out her topographical maps and marked a few hikes for us in highlighter. We’re always happy to get off the bikes for a few days and work our hiking muscles.

These old troughs are always tempting for a drink, but most are marked non-potable water.
We had a day of sunny hiking, stayed in for a rainy day, and headed out again on a changeable day.
More curious locals.
Between the topo maps and the local signage we got some good hiking in.
We’ve been seeing these upside down town signs all over rural France. It’s a quiet protest or reminder from the farmers about conditions for agricultural families, and the difficulties around farming.

Spending time in rural France as a tourist it would be easy to simply soak up the charm and not think about how life is for locals, especially those who make their living off the land. But the time we’ve spent in the Haute Savoie at our friends’ place watching the long hours their neighbors who are farmers work, and now having this time in Massat, we have a huge appreciation for the hard work of farming. My sister in Colorado raises cattle so I have a good idea of how hard the work around food production is. Our hosts had a wood fired hot tub and after getting it heated up, which took about four hours, we’d sit in comfort and watch the sun go down. Across the valley we could hear the farmer getting his sheep moved to a new pasture with the help of his sheepdog. At times like that we are really reminded of our privilege. Just as when in the Haute Savoie the farmers will be haying at 9 in the evening to get ahead of predicted rain, while we relax on the terrace. Farmers and those of us who depend on farmers – everyone – are more closely linked than many of us acknowledge.

The wood fired hot tub, and Rich, who never met a hot tub challenge he wouldn’t accept.

Our French countryside week included two cats and two donkeys to care for. The donkeys were easy since they were grazing and only needed a daily check in and carrot. One cat we barely saw as she was super shy, but the other, a three legged charmer who couldn’t use the cat flap and never passed up a lap sitting opportunity, was a constant source of amusement.

A donkey accepting her daily carrot.
Oh, a lap. This cat was in heaven with the two dogs off traveling with their humans and all the laps to himself.
I must be near a human.
Oh hi, are we having breakfast now?
Or preferably, on a human. A warm cat and a wood fired stove got us through a few cold days.
Some books and chocolate within reach, and the kitty and I were as happy as we could be.

Before we left our house sit we needed to replace the wine our hosts had graciously offered up. They told us that if we needed to replenish the seemingly limitless 5 liter boxes of local wine to go to the wine shop in town and the proprietor would sort us out. Although we didn’t empty the boxes we wanted to be good house sitters, and we were curious about the shop, so we did coast down to town on our bikes.

So many local wines, beer, and spirits. A treasure of a shop.
Some huge bottles.
And some caskets for bring your own bottle.
The friendly owner knew exactly who we were, he is friends with our hosts, and sorted us out with two new 5 liter boxes of wine, one red, one white.
After a stop at the grocery store it was back up the hill with ten liters of wine. Rich did the toting.
We did one ride towards Col de Port, it was a grey day and misting. I turned around once it got cold but Rich pressed on until the rain and cold turned him around too. The area is loaded with road cyclists, so many beautiful views and small roads.
The other donkey, less friendly but still adorable.

We loved our house sit near Massat. Spending a week in a renovated stone farm house, lighting fires to stay warm, and cooking all of our meals in is such a wonderful break when we’re bike touring. The house was cozy and comfortable, and the area is stunning. We both agree that for us living in such a rural area is not something we want to do. Although we used our feet and bicycles for our week there, for the long haul you would need a car. We saw locals on bikes and e-bikes, which is great, but the closest major town, Saint-Girons with the fantastic Saturday market, is 27 kilometers away. And, as we discovered when we left our house sit on Saturday, hundreds (if not thousands!) of locals drive to Saint-Girons for that market. It made for a not so fantastic ride down the valley. French car drivers are quite good around cyclists for the most part, but a few encounters with impatient drivers on that ride down were enough to put me off. One challenge of living off the grid in a rural area is having to get to things in your old car or van.

Goodbye lovely quiet valley.
Goodbye Massat and your stunning views.
Hello 60k ride to Boussens to catch a train.

Once we got to and through Saint-Girons and its market day crush of cars we got onto the rail trail to Boussens. Ah, rail trail. Separated from automobiles, catching glimpses of life as you pedal by and through towns: a garden party here, a Boules tournament there, hawks and buzzards soaring overhead. And it was slightly downhill all the way to our train. Yes it’s a bit stressful for the planner having to get us 60k in time for a train, but we made it.

Our train started at Boussens, and ended in Toulouse. That’s our favorite situation, no rushing on or off with all our panniers and bikes to wrangle.
The Toulouse Pl. du Capitole.
This building is a Toulouse treasure. It’s the city hall, the opera, and where a series of stunning paintings by Henri-Martin are displayed.
The artist is known for his large scale works adorning public buildings- where else would this fit?
His work is described as having a melancholy, dreaminess and mystery.

Leaving a house sit is always a bit of work, we always want to leave the house squeaky clean for the hosts to come home to, and make sure all the animals are where they should be with sufficient food and water. Add the travel day to that and we decided a rest day in Toulouse was a good idea. We had spent a day in Toulouse but there was definitely more to see. It was a treat to have a full day to walk around Toulouse. Another French city that is working hard to make itself a pedestrian, public transportation, and bike friendly place.

Like this construction site! It’s an expansion of the Metro system.
And this street being brought into the modern word of bike and pedestrian friendliness.
Great cities don’t happen by accident, they have to be created and modernized to tame car traffic and let folks live a happy life without needing cars for every trip.
The small winding streets of Toulouse are great to walk.
Sunset light on the Canal de Brienne.
The happy Travelers and the Garonne River in Toulouse.
A map! It’s fun to see the spots where we’ve stayed. Our house sit is the far right heart on the lower line of hearts. Flirting with the Pyrenees indeed.

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cbink

After decades of living and working in wonderful San Francisco we gave it all up to travel the world. Not owning a car allowed us to save money and live hyper-locally. Now we’re living around the globe. Follow along to see where we are and what cats I manage to pet.

2 thoughts on “Feeling at home in Massat, France.”

  1. What a wonderful post. . . Whenever we watch the Tour de France, we see small towns like this fantasize living in them. Sounds like a great sit. It’s always good to have at least ONE super cuddly pet. 

    So close to Andorra—we spent a month there in 2022 and the landscape and mountains never disappointed. Tons of cyclists there as well. (PLUS, it’s a great Schengen escape if you enter from the French side and get your passport stamped). 

    Margot & Nick

    1. Thank you! You know how wonderful it is to get to a small town and settle in – even if just for a week. France is just amazing for small villages oozing with charm. Hope all is well with you both! 😘

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