A gîte owner’s work is never done, says Caroline Zilboorg
Visiting France has changed a lot since we first started touring the country with our family of four young children nearly 40 years ago. Then there was no internet, no email, and even faxing was rare outside a large business. When looking for accommodation, I had to rely on whatever was listed in the last few pages of tourist office brochures and on the wonderfully helpful books, available by mail at a rather hefty price, that listed regional accommodation offered through Gîtes de France.
This organisation developed in the mid-1950s to help farmers in the countryside. By renting out otherwise vacant buildings and rooms in rural areas on a B&B or self-catering basis, proprietors could attract city-dwellers looking for weekend getaways and holiday accommodation.
BARE NECESSITIES
Gîtes de France helped to support the local communities when many people were leaving for the economic opportunities offered in urban centres. Enabling farmers to make ends meet meant that reasonably priced rural accommodation, almost always quite basic, could help sustain life in the French countryside.
What these gîtes ruraux meant for visiting families like ours was affordable and often characterful accommodation where our children could run about freely and safely. The fixtures and fittings were generally simple: a couple of double rooms and maybe a single bed or two under the eaves or in the living room, a family bathroom with an avocado toilet and sink, wallpapered ceilings and doors, dark kitchens furnished with rickety tables and chairs.
The flowered plates and cups in the cupboards were clearly inherited from an older person no longer living on the farm and were normally surprisingly abundant – a full set of china for 24 along with gravy boat and soup tureen was not unusual. A few delicate wine glasses and a selection of unmatched tumblers would in most cases complete the crockery, while a drawer might contain a corkscrew, a pen knife, a wooden spoon and a soup ladle as well as knives, forks and spoons – perhaps from the same set – six of one, 12 of another, collected over the years or supplemented more recently from the premier prix range at the local supermarket.
If there happened to be a television, only French programmes were available. We improved our language skills by watching weather reports (how else would we know what to expect the next day?) and repeats of ER (Urgences in French). I was delighted to discover that George Clooney was as charming in French as in English and that the medical emergencies just as understandable. The gîte terrace was usually just a grassy area outside the back door, while the lawn furniture was invariably four white plastic chairs and a plastic table.
QUIRKY SURPRISES
Forty years ago, a countryside gîte equipped to this standard
