Baron Boulart did not build his hunting lodge by the Forêt Domaniale de Vielle-St.-Girons for nothing: over these woods fly larks, ortolans, wood pigeons, cranes, gray herons, wild geese, and ducks, but the only grace I got to taste was in their description. A three-day stay at Huchet is not long enough to see it all, and in the course of a year Max, Martine, Michel, and Christine are the only people to have caught glimpses of these wild birds that no hunter will ever disturb, since this area is a protected nature reserve.
The Courant d'Huchet, a fairly large stream that runs toward the ocean, may well be the most striking feature of the whole place. Boulart, who clearly had an exotic streak, planted bald cypresses, royal ferns, hibiscuses, and white water lilies along its banks. Small boats steered by guides will take you on a trip over its waters and let you revel in the banks' various fragrances—which we did not do, as I felt I had absorbed enough nature and wanted to return to the inn for a hot bath, a log fire, and a meal.
THAT NIGHT, WE WERE SERVED GRILLED TURBOT bathed in olive oil and lemon, and endives caramelized in butter, lemon juice, and cream. Dessert was irresistible: pithiviers, almond pastry with apricot sauce. The Guérards call their guests adventurers, but no adventurer that I know of ends his meals with pithiviers. From my childhood, I remembered Clark Gable and Errol Flynn, who made do with a tin of monkey meat or grilled snake.
Back in our little cottage, Martine had seen to it that tall yellow candles had been lit in every corner of the sitting room and bedroom. Oak logs were burning in the fireplace. A huge vase held about a hundred oranges. We stretched out on the Indonesian wickerwork sofa and let the flames slowly melt the ocean's raw chill from our bodies.
The next morning we slept so deeply that we again missed the breakfast bell. This time, however, a critical thought crossed my mind for the very first time—there were no shutters. Daylight was pouring in through the embroidered curtains. I later spoke with Christine about it. "It's a question of fidelity," she said. "When we bought the pavilion, the boat shed, and the lodge, we swore that we would be true to what Huchet had been in the past." There are shutters on the main house because Baron Boulart put them there. The carpenters woke when the sun rose.
We were faithful, too. Faithful to the brunch that came this time with the regional newspapers Martine had brought. (Newspapers, did you say?I had forgotten all about them—and, large-scale consumer of papers that I am, I realized I had not missed them.) Faithful, also, to our ritual stroll into the dunes and forest, picking herbs and flowers for bouquets to put in our cupboards back in Paris.
We did, however, break our vow not to set foot in our car, for at the Guérards' suggestion we took a 20-minute ride to Lévignacq, a virtually deserted village. The architecture of its 14th-century chapel, L'Église de St.-Martin de Lévignacq, is characteristic of the Landes region, with its classical façade and sharp steeple. The interior is stunning: the walls of the nave and choir are adorned with carved cherubs and frescoes depicting scenes from the life of Christ and various saints—in a somewhat naïf, 18th-century Baroque style. They are the work of local as well as Italian craftsmen who, at the behest of the devout and mystical villagers, put much emotional intensity into their artwork. We immediately understood the reason for the Guérards' recommendation that we visit this church, for it contains the very lines that sum up Huchet. The abbot Rousselet, one of the main figures responsible for the church's restoration, had the following inscribed on one of its walls:
LE CIEL SOURIT (Heaven smiles)
L'ENFER GRONDE (Hell growls)
ET L'HOMME DORT (And man sleeps)
At Huchet, the heavens had smiled upon us. Hell's growls had of course been the eternal ocean's, and as for man—that is to say, us—we sure did sleep. Slept so well, enjoyed superb food, and forgot all about time.
Huchet, 33-5/58-05-05-05, fax 33-5/58-51-10-10; doubles from $5,950, including four nights at Les Prés d'Eugénie and three nights at Huchet. The rate covers some spa treatments at Les Prés d'Eugénie, meals, and activities.
