When we first arrived we asked out host and hostess if we could get a tour of the "castle", the main house. They invited us to join them for a drink on Monday at 6.
As mentioned earlier the property was originally settled in the early 1600's and purchased by the ancestors of the present owners in 1780, just prior to the French revolution.
Pierre's (aka Peter) parents acquired the Lignereuil property and his cousin now owns the sister "castle" down the alley of linden trees.
As the house was passed down from one generation to the next it remained much the same, until a devastating fire destroyed the interior (anything that was not stone or brick) in the early 1960's. Peter's parents were determined to rebuild and restore the structure to its former grandeur. This was a labor of love which required painstaking detail and persistence.
A portion of the original building was demolished and the house was reduced in size by removing an outer wing. It was hard to get the details on how they accomplished this feat since Peter spoke little English, while his wife Berengere had a bit better grasp of the language, and we spoke in unintelligible syllables. So the combination of hand gyrations along with a stream of French words with an occasional English one was all we could comprehend.
Peter and Berengere lived in the house where we were staying until his father died and they moved in with mom until she died a few years ago. They have five adult children.
Front gates to the property. The entrance was off the D77, around the bend and down the drive. The address is 2 Rue Angelique - but never found out who she was.
The main house from across the courtyard.
Our accommodations consists of the lower level and upper level to the rear with the dormers. The tower was a mystery with no apparent stairwell past the second floor.
Another view of our house.
As the clock struck six Kim announces our arrival.
Our host rushed through the door and into the courtyard.
To give us the layout of the property.
He whisked us down the garden path with Kim following closely behind. It was a little scary like a scene out of a Stephen King novel. Bet he will show us where they dump the bodies.
At the end of our garden expedition was this innocuous cabin. Wonder what is inside. Creepy.
Why did our host lead us down the garden path to this insignificant building?
Our theory was that although we arrived promptly at 6 PM our hostess was still getting ready for her guests. So instead of catching her unprepared Peter led us on this wild goose chase to kill time. So French, So proper.
These tapestries were works of art. The best are produced in Belgium (Flemish Tapestries).
A massive one in every room, each depicting their own story and possessing its own history.
In the main salon was another magnificent tapestry.
Fishing is also a major sporting activity.
Fruit de la mer.
Very old painting of dead things - the goal of every hunt.
At least they eat whatever they kill.
The gun closet decked out with a variety of rifles for every kind of game. Big guns for big stuff (deer), small guns for small stuff (rabbits), and shot guns for anything with wings. Peter showed us his hunting "kill log" which included page after page of everything he personally bagged - too numerous to contemplate.
Time for libations. Kim goes for the red wine.
My drink of choice was gin, sans tonic. Sipping, not drinking.
Our unknown garden fruit was actually a walnut tightly concealed by a tough green outer layer.
Our hostess discussing Peter's family tree including him and ten siblings.
We look right at home. Maybe next time we can stay at the big house.
Back to our guest lodging and more modest accommodations but not too shabby.
The living room.
The dining room.
It was a lovely evening with our host and hostess.
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