ain pastures where they spend the summer in the open air.
These two very different Auvergnes correspond in their way to the linguistic divisions that once prevailed in France: the southern langue d'Oc and the northern langue d'Oïl which was the language of Gothic art and culture. With Vichy, its major city, the Bourbonnais extends north to just beyond Moulins and west to Montluçon, a buffer zone, so to speak, between the Paris basin (of which it is geologically a part) and Auvergne (to which it is administratively attached). While Auvergne is mountainous, save for the Limagne plain which is contiguous to the Bourbonnais, the latter's gentle valleys benefit from a milder climate. Life there is less hard and the art of living more gracious.
Because it raises a 250-kilometer barrier to clouds rushing in from the ocean, the Massif Central is literally the water tower of France. Rivers rush out in all directions to irrigate the land. The springs that bubble up to the surface from deep in the earth are charged with beneficial minerals. As far back as antiquity, the Romans established thermal spas in Auvergne. The waters of Volvic are filtered by volcanic rock, and are as pure as if they had been distilled. Curists take the waters at Vichy, the queen of spas, for digestive problems; at Châtelguyon, for the kidneys; at Le Mont-Dore and La Bourboule for bronchitis; at Royat for the heart; at Bourbon-l'Archambault for rheumatism... In Auvergne, Nature can soothe nearly any ill!
The young volcanoes--extinct for a mere 5,000 years--that are scattered throughout Auvergne give these springs their vitality (150°F at Vichy!). And they also give the landscape its haunting beauty, softened by the passage of millennia. The spectacular Dômes range and the Monts Dore and their region are protected environments since the creation in 1977 of a vast Parc Naturel des Volcans. Lakes sparkle in former craters (Lac Servière, Lac Pavin, Lac Chauvet, Gour de Tazenat) or in naturally dammed valleys (Lac Chambon, Lac d'Aydat); man-made lakes glitter in the landscape, too (Lac de Bort-les-Orgues and the lake on La Truyère), and provide precious hydroelectric power as well.
In the nineteenth century, Auvergne's mountains were home to a burgeoning population--there were just too many mouths to feed. So each summer, able-bodied young Auvergnats came down from the peaks to work as hired hands on wheat farms in the plains, while older men tended sheep and sheltered in makeshift huts (called burons) high up on the mountain. Nowadays there are cows, not sheep, on the hillsides and they don't need anyone to watch over them: electrified fences do the job! And most of the young men who went down the mountain never came back up: they stayed where they found work, and succeeded by virtue of their peasant tenacity. Not so long ago, the coal merchants of Paris who carried heavy sacks of charbon on their backs up flight after flight of stairs--the bougnats, as they were derisively called--were all sons of Auvergne. With their savings, many bought a café or a restaurant--and of course a country house back home, where they could retire, once they had made their fortune, and live out their days at the foot of their beloved volcanoes. But among the emigrants from Auvergne there were also scientists and thinkers and prominent political figures, including three recent French presidents: Georges Pompidou, Valéry Giscard d'Estaing, and Jacques Chirac.
A morning at the market
There's no better way to learn to love this French heartland than to spend a morning at one of the local open-air markets, or foirails. In the fall, farmers from Cézallier or Aubrac proudly exhibit their prize Salers cattle: beautifully combed, with their lyre-shaped horns, the beasts are a splendid sight! The men trade and deal in the local dialect, perpetuating an ancestral tradition. The rich milk from these cows lends a special savor to Auvergne's cheeses: fragrant Saint-Nectaire, robust Cantal, pungent Bleu d'Auvergne, and buttery, blue-veined Fourme d'Ambert.
The famous knives of Thiers are back in 