Her Magazine is New Zealand’s only women’s business lifestyle magazine! Her Magazine highlights the achievements of successful and rising New Zealand businesswomen. Her Magazine encourages a healthy work/life balance.
Issue link: https://viewer.e-digitaleditions.com/i/76572
archeological site and historical architectural ensemble. While the climb to the castles at the top of a rocky spur was a steep one, the breathtaking view from the top was its own reward. But time got away from us, and by the time we got back down to the bottom we realised it was approaching lunchtime. With not much on offer in the town of Lastours, we decided to head for Minerve, a picturesque village 45 minutes away. Navigating some narrow, hairpin turns on a road that was carved into the mountain, the fortified town of Minerve materialised before our eyes like a vision. But scenic as it was, finding a way into the town was proving to be considerably less romantic. As cars were not allowed into the fortified town, and there didn't seem to be a public car park in sight, Peter took us down a steep one-way street in frustration. The time was exactly 2.10 p.m. Hot and hungry, we dragged our feet up a dirt track to the medieval village, spotting a little cafe with outdoor tables and a lovely view. Picking a spot in the shaded courtyard, I told Peter as we sat down, "Maybe we can share a green salad and then have a pasta for a main." "Good idea," he said. Ordering a salad and tagliatelli dish each from the menu when the waitress arrived, she briskly stated, "Pas de pates!" What? No Pasta? What about the wood fired pizza? "Pas de pizza, pas de Pates, pas de salade!" she barked. "Well, what can we order?" we asked in our broken French. It looked like our only option was the "Plate du Jour", which was a pork with a heavy sauce, obviously a poor seller that they had a ton of in the kitchen. Apart from the fact that Peter is Jewish and does not eat pork, I was not going to be railroaded into eating something I didn't want. So we thanked the waitress, stood up, and left. By 2.30 p.m. our stomachs were rumbling. Surely something MUST be open in the town of Minerve, a major tourist attraction! Spotting another restaurant that looked more "fine dining", Peter and I made a bee line for the front door. "We're bound to get looked after here!" Peter exclaimed. But no sooner had we walked through the front door when a harried waitress came charging towards us, waving her arms in front of our faces, saying "Non! C'est finis! La cuisine est fermez!" While we would have given our right arms for just a baguette with ham that day, alas, it was past the 2.00 p.m. mark in rural France. While the French seemingly wrote the bible on cool, they're also extremely supportive of the family as an institution. While they may appear obsessive about their cuisine, it stems from a passion for food and immense pride in their culinary tradition. And speaking of intolerance of non-French speakers, how often have we been guilty of that in our own cultures? With a cultural tradition that has had huge resources allocated to art and pleasure for the glory of God and King, it's little wonder that the French have been known as the world's arbiters of taste throughout history. And wouldn't we be the poorer without them. Victoria Ugarte, Author of Culture Savvy For Women www.ExploreMyWorldTravel.com Supporting breast cancer research within the Waikato and beyond The Trust provides opportunities for Waikato women to be part of leading edge breast cancer care through clinical trials. We want the women of this region to have the best and are committed to improving breast cancer care & treatment. Phone 07 839 8726 ext 97916 PO Box 97, Hamilton 3240 www.wbct.org.nz Au revoir Je ne comprends pas