Duck guilt

So, the fact that there are over 300 hotels in Lourdes has left me pretty exhausted. My survey relied on word of mouth, and past guide books, but I saw so many crappy hotels there that I had to get out of town. I went to a small hamlet nearby called Saint-Pe-de-Bigorre, where there are a few chambres d'hotes. The owner of one farm was nice enough to pick me up, and we went to their family farm high on a hill above town. It's been in their family for generations, and they've since added a guesthouse.

They have a lovely place (I wish I could have stayed), with a gorgeous fig tree, barn, and house - where we had local wine and brioche. They have two young daughters who look after the animals with them - one of which was very excited I was from MTV, but very shy and probably a little disappointed when I showed up without cameras and not looking like Brittany Spears. They also have this adorable family of ducks that wanders around - with 6 baby ducks. I think she thought it was weird I couldn't stop talking about them.

Which brings me to the guilt. Here in the Southwest, there are two things people eat - foie gras and duck. I was at a restaurant where the said their vegetable soup was amazing - la garbure it's called - it was basically duck soup. And on my final day in Lourdes, I was cranky and decided to sit down to a full three course lunch at "le Magret." Magret is duck breast. It was seriously amazing - beautifully done, nice and simple. But all I could think about was those little baby ducks...

You should see how people react when I mention that they want to outlaw foie gras in California. Like they could think Americans are even crazier.

So, on to Pau. This is a much bigger city - and it going to be much harder to cover. It's actually a very nice place, lots of shops but not too many sites. I went to the farmers market this morning and tried as many things as I could. In fact, for this entire day I've been sustained by free samples. Like the old Frenchman who was selling produce from three wooden crates and gave me a fig when I told him how lovely they looked. He also started talking about how France will soon have a woman president, but then he used a few words I didn't know - which meant they were either slang for something really good, or slang for something really bad.

The eggs looked unbelievable - all i wanted to do take some with me. Same with the melons. The sad part is I never have time to pack a leisurely picnic lunch. Also there were cute bunnies there.... who are never going to be pets. But when I asked the woman what they were for, she answered "comme tu veux" - so she's open to either option.

People are much more connected to their food here. It's impossible to get service at the farmers market because people sit there talking about the quality of the meat for 10 minutes. And I really respect the relationships people have with the vendors they buy food from. They're friends, they know the farm or the source, and they respect quality.

If I'm going to eat little ducks, I'd rather do it that way.