To the Rhythm of L'Etoile

As soon as I arrive at La Bastide-Puylaurent station, I am greeted by Philippe. Casually dressed, he approaches me with the warmth and ease that characterize him. He has taken a moment away from his kitchen, where his dishes are slowly simmering. I board and embark on the adventure aboard the ship "L'Etoile," with still uncertain steps. Already, hikers traversing the Cévennes from refuge to refuge, following the Stevenson Trail, are entering the veranda.

I settle into room number seven, equipped with a small balcony, then descend via the spiral staircase. My familiarity with the house was limited until then, as the previous year I had only frequented my room, the large dining hall with its communal tables, a corner of the kitchen (where I occasionally cleared and washed some glasses), and the dish area (where I often set the table). Philippe makes himself completely available to show me his grand residence, punctuating the tour with his usual jokes.

On the first day, I am content to observe, spontaneously performing a few tasks in the kitchen that overlooks the Allier River, and I already receive compliments. The next day, I move about with persistent hesitation in this vast property whose layout I am discovering: the cold room impresses me, as do the dough mixer and the large sinks for the dishes. Gradually, this guesthouse enchants me, and the grand hall, reminiscent of the Art Deco gallery in Salamanca, Spain, shines brilliantly.

The kitchen becomes a familiar and enchanting space, almost magical when Philippe sets to preparing delicious dishes, releasing aromas that blend with emotions and weave a peaceful and solid harmony for the rest of the evening. How can one not think of Laura Esquivel's famous work, Like Water for Chocolate? And then, savoring a meal in the kitchen gives the food an unprecedented flavor and value: the little crust of homemade bread just out of the oven, the spoonful of fromage blanc, the delicious homemade soup, the meat accompanied by new potatoes!

Another place that I immediately cherish is the small garden-side terrace, with its iron table and black lacquered chairs. I love having my breakfast there, lulled by the morning breeze and surrounded by the foliage of trees and Virginia creeper. At L'Etoile, one rediscovers authenticity, beauty, and kindness—in essence, the essentials—thanks to Philippe who, besides cooking, navigates between the communal tables and the guests.

At the end of the meal, he even encourages them to participate in clearing the tables, as the dishwashing area is accessible to all. It's an art and a concept that he strives to establish and cultivate daily. He goes as far as improvising some melodies on the piano or singing, accompanied by his guitar, "Hotel California" or "Winslow Arizona," with an authentic American accent, while the last guests relax in their chairs, savoring an infusion of verbena from Puy-en-Velay. For the first time, the piano piques my curiosity. I am eager to learn, and Philippe offers me my first lessons. What an adventure! I have now found my bearings on this fascinating ship, for this building has a soul, and one feels wonderfully at home.

My stay at L'Etoile was punctuated by numerous minibus excursions, each more interesting than the last, thanks to Philippe's guidance. We had coffee at Christine's at Villa Les Roches, a warm-hearted Englishwoman who also runs guest rooms in a magnificent residence near Langogne. We also visited Pierre from the Auberge Régordane in La Garde-Guérin, a medieval village overlooking the Chassezac gorges, as well as Christian from the Refuge du Moure in Cheylard-l'Eveque. I have fond memories of the warm welcome from Bertrand and his daughter at the Thort cheese dairy, located on the GR®700 Regordane Way.

Our trips to Le Puy-en-Velay were enhanced by a gourmet stop at the Moroccan restaurant, where the tagine was to die for, nestled in a small pedestrian street in the city center. We filled our wine barrels in Langogne twice and stocked up on fresh fruits and vegetables—a daily luxury that not everyone can afford.

Two outings remain etched in my memory: a refreshing swim in the Borne River in Ardèche and the visit to the Abbey Notre Dame des Neiges, with a picturesque return partially following the GR®7 and GR®72 trails, where I even spotted the window and balcony of my little room.

My room, located at the very top, was a haven of simplicity and elegance. I used to linger on the balcony at night, contemplating the silent nature. The curtains remained open, for each morning unveiled a new spectacle. Sometimes, the chime of the bells would pull me from sleep (a bit late), and from my bed, I greeted nature, which smiled back at me, while the smoking chimney signaled that Philippe was already at work. Good morning! A new day was dawning at L'Etoile, always under the sign of joy and good humor. An immense thank you to Philippe for these unforgettable moments of sharing aboard his ship. I was touched by his kindness and thoughtfulness.

During an escapade near Saint Laurent Les Bains, I stopped by Elisabeth's place, an artist in woodturning, whose creations in walnut, beech, rosewood, and maple are true works of art. My second walk took me not as far, with a planned visit to the Abbey Notre Dame des Neiges. I also had the pleasure of meeting friendly guests: a German family whose daughter was staying near my room, a train conductor and his daughter, a mother and her two sons, as well as Sol and her husband.

So many wonderful encounters in such a short time! On the day of my departure, despite the rain at L'Etoile, we took the time to sit on the terrace. Farewell to this beautiful residence, farewell to the Prince of rigor and know-how ! by Colette Louvel