Crest

 

 

Not the toothpaste but a small town in Southeastern France.

It's pronounced Kre.

We were driving home to Geneva with some trepidation. 

Would there be the predicted downpours? 

Would we be caught up in one of the demonstrations going on all over France? 

It was a beautiful sunny day as we drove up the Autoroute. Rick suggested we detour to Crest, which I'd never heard of. 

Why not go?

We passed through luscious farm fields and small towns on excellent roads. Some had roundabouts with sculptures. My favorite was one of a bronze farmer behind his bronze-colored horse plowing their field together in perfect harmony.

A garlic festival was advertised. We'd discovered in a major garlic-growing area. I never thought about the birthplace of my garlic which I chopped to add to my cooking. Now I will know that it was raised in farm country close to our second home.

Crest is a medieval town with a old tower built to protect the area. The attached castle was destroyed but the tower was once a prison.

We stumbled across a restaurant whose menu de jour was a tangine with a variety of veggies served by a single waiter who smiled and smiled even though he had far too many customers for one man.

What we didn't see, and we'll have to stop there again...an artisanal chocolate factory with an attached museum. 

I've often maintained there is something to see everywhere. Discovering garlic, sculptures and chocolate all in the area with a 900-year old village is just plain wonderful.  

www.plusbeauxdetours.com/tous-les-plus-beaux-detours/detour-par-crest-dans-la-drome/