jackandthecitylights.org

My kind of Mad

During a quiet, muggy day weeding in the green house at Les Jardins des Mondoux a curious looking man appeared at the end of the tunnel. He sat upon a sharp looking road bike. His slightly disheveled appearance accented by long curly hair and a five-o-clock shadow seemed a bit unbecoming of one in the saddle of such a bike. The bike was a custom made carbon fiber road frame fitted with high end Shimano parts, a Brook’s saddle, and straight bars, with a home-made handlebar bag fixed to the front by a series of clever straps.

Through broken english the man, Eric, invited me to his home for a visit with scattered details about what to expect there. Goats, 50 hectares, fruit trees, photovoltaic system, llama, pig, bees, and so on with the opportunity for work. Sounded interesting so after working that day I set out for Flayat, his village.

Flayat was a practical ghost town. A small village of 6 maybe 7 homes of which only one was permanently inhabited. The rest laid in disuse either as vacation homes or as capital. I wandered about the silent homes on an overgrown gravel road looking for some sign that would indicate which one was Eric’s. reaching the last house I looked back to see a large solar system for heating water and photovoltaic panels behind a beautiful 2 story stone house set amidst a wild looking orchard and a few small goats grazing lazily.

The solar system, Eric explained, he built upon a horizontal giant antique wagon wheel. He ducked into his kitchen to demonstrate it’s function. The large array silently and slowly glided clockwise then counter for optimizing it’s position with the sunlight with a tug on a few wires that ran below ground and into his kitchen. It was a clever design, and an epitome of the DIY spirit. Though his system was chided by some behind his back I suspect their criticism was based more upon superficial reasons or perhaps envy than erudite critic.

Next he showed me a VW bus, quad, and motorcycle that he had converted to run entirely off of natural gas. His delta wing airplane was still in the conversion process. He explained that the conversion was best done using an American made injector, of what mark I forget now.

Perhaps most importantly he had an impressive collection of 9 unique bicycles all custom built including a recumbent trike. A few parts and a frame lay about the floor undergoing a renovation to decrease weight. Two cats, one all white and another all black slept in a heap next to a wheel that was in the process of being built from newly ordered parts.

He was using his land as a sort of refuge for abandon animals he had collected over the years. A big old chinese hog, a mistreated llama, a shy donkey who was absolutely convinced that my clothing was delicious, a couple of dogs, and about 25-35 african goats scattered about the place.

After a few weeks of stopping by Eric’s at the end of my work day with Gitta and David I decided to take up residence with Eric at Flayat. During my time there I lived in a modest caravan set back away from the road in a quiet wood just next to a huge barn that housed his sailboat.

I worked part time helping with various projects during the day and spent my evenings riding about the countryside on Eric’s lightweight Peugeot guest bike buying my food fresh from various farms.

It has been one of the most beautiful chapters in my life so far. No traffic noises, no people, no obligations, beautiful deciduous forests and wildflowers surrounding me at all times, the uninterrupted song of various migratory birds returning from Africa during the day and the erie hoots and screeches of nightbirds and plaintiff call of the fox at night.

Eric’s reverence and respect for the natural world is unparalleled in anyone I have ever met before. He takes great lengths in all things he does to be extremely cautious to not cause any harm to any animals, insects, or rare plants. One pathway was completely off limits to foot traffic because it served as a major crossroads for a few large colonies of ants. Sadly unappreciated and greatly misunderstood by those that I spoke with who knew him, I learned invaluable lessons from this cantankerous but warm hearted eccentric hermit. My time at Flayat was trying at times but the negative was balanced by positive in the magical paradise that comprised the setting.