The Canal du Midi connects the Garonne River in Bordeaux to the Mediterranean. Photo by Kelly S. Kurt
I met an old woman on the bridge, staring glumly into the ankle-deep Vernazobre, and stopped to ogle beside her. “Pas peche la,” she said. Indeed, the trout were not running. I passed the church and the intimidating butcher’s where I used to shop and turned left on the rue d’Eglise. Overhead, somebody’s laundry dried in the current of air that cascaded through the narrow streets of stone. I made a right and was at the threshold of Monsieur and Madame Peyras. With seven butchers in a town of 1700, it took me awhile to find Chez Peyras, and I was wasting no time sampling their coffers.