Heart of the Bourbonnais
The last and most famous royal house of France considers this its homeland.
It is also at almost the geographic center of France. Today’s featured photo is part of the garden of the Priory of Sauvigny, the spiritual home and physical resting place of the old Dukes of Bourbon, before they were kings. It feels like it is mostly other French who are visiting this area, and yesterday most of them were at this priory garden for the big plant sale and market that was happening on the greensward adjoining. I got a very good deal on a farmer’s brebis, or sheep’s milk cheese, and was completely swindled by two friendly Frenchmen who were selling a local specialty, almond and pistachio nougat. They were far too charming, and I am not going to admit what I paid for a slab of it.
Anyway, I read that the Sire of Bourbon gave this land to the monks from Cluny in the mid 900s to build this priory complex. It was a good investment, as it said these religious men had managed to seize the right to coin money from the kings of France. Souvigny stamped the currency for the up-and-coming rulers, and the museum had this pile of silver deniers that were found there. No king on them, but rather a saint and a cross. Money is, of course, nothing if you don’t have faith in it. Am I the only one who feels like Christianity was rolled into Europe just to force a unified monetary system into place?
The priory itself is till in use, so you can only go in the cathedral and gardens. It was cold and musty in the church, not conducive to visiting crypts of powerful monks, so I left. I did find it intriguing that they used such vivid red rock to carve the Madonna and Child above the door. And I appreciated the touches the current set have added to the gardens about the domiciles. 
The drive down from Sancerre yesterday was on narrow back roads that wound through rolling land covered in rich pastures and fields of yellow mustard flowers. Most of the villages and farmsteads were of very old construction, many bearing red rock tiles for shingles. Very frequently the fresh landscape was graced by purple wisteria vines and lilac trees. I saw so many creamy white herds of the local Charolais cattle lying in emerald grass that, after I got settled in my hotel in Moulins, I went out and had a huge Charolais steak for dinner.
