This is the time when the mines should lie down, but each one makes a good figure. This Saturday evening, even the beginners seem happy around this long table which seems made for a council of ministers or a banquet. On a sideboard, two large metal samovars contain a broth with which each has filled a deep plate: pale yellow and transparent water, in which the juice of a quarter of a lemon has been squeezed, a slice of ginger and half a dessert spoon of chopped parsley. Normally, no one would find this very engaging, but we haven’t eaten anything solid in twenty-four hours and nothing feels more comforting than this clear, hot drink.
There are about fifteen of us in the large comfortable dining room of this former 19th century manor.e century transformed into a hotel, Les Garennes, from where you can see the Atlantic Ocean and the small port of Bénodet. The previous week, everyone had more or less conscientiously followed their program of ” food descent ». D – 4, remove animal proteins. D – 3, stop eating dairy products. D – 2, remove cereals (bread, rice, pasta…), but quinoa authorized, eat only fruits and vegetables at will. D – 1, eat fruits (fresh and dried), drink vegetable juices.
Some get excited, most worry
From now on, we will spend a week without absorbing anything other than vegetable and fruit juice in the morning and this famous broth in the evening. For the rest, water and infusions at will. And walk, at the rate of 10 to 15 kilometers per day, along the ocean and the forest which make this coast, between Concarneau and the mouth of the Odet, one of the prettiest corners of the south of Brittany. How will we resist hunger?
Just before leaving, those who are there have heard everything. Fasting, in a country like France which reveres gastronomy, often arouses disbelief, suspicion and sometimes even a form of aggressiveness, such as those who refuse a glass of alcohol encounter. It was sometimes necessary to lie to avoid the invigorating dinners of friends who would have undermined this preparatory phase. It was also necessary to reassure the entourage who already imagines ” deficiencies »“ anemia »“ scurvy, even ! », a whole jumble of affections drawn from imaginary tales of shipwreck and abandonment on desert islands.
Some are enthusiastic: I have friends who do this in an ashram on the banks of the Ganges, in India… » But most worry: You’re sure it’s not a cult, at least ? » Or decree from the outset: Me, I could never hold on ! » A few years ago, my mother, a child of the war, had this cry from the heart, both ironic and incredulous: ” And you will pay not to eat ? » This is, so far, the most pragmatic remark that has been made to me.
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