Our mates have arrived

Just to let everyone know that Jan and Nossie arrived safely, in one piece although not without some dramas to their first foray into La Belle France.

Due to arrive in Toulouse after a short night of sleep in Paris, they found the Fast Train stopped less than an hour out of the capital. And it stopped. And it stopped. Finally Nossie found out, through the help of a friendly English-speaking man, that someone had died or had been killed on the train line and there would need to be investigations. Luckily Jan had international roaming on her mobile and let us know not to go to the station until further notice.

Not a very auspicious beginning to their continental trip.

Three hours late, we picked them up, waving our Australian flag to attract attention (which garnered many broad smiles) and we talked nineteen to the dozen all the way to Balma And all evening. And all night!! Luckily dinner was prepared in advance or we wouldn't have had anything to eat!

Today saw them pouring over maps of the area, testing out the GPS system that Lindsay gave them to go in the Nissan, inspecting each and every aisle of the huge Auchan supermarché (for hours and hours, I might add ....), buying duck, paté, brie, wine and cognac - just the staples really - although I think there was some fruit in that mix too!!

Now we are awaiting a Nossie dinner as Jan makes the salad. Some hosts we turned out to be!!

Tomorrow we leave them to revel in this lap if luxury as we wend our way across the Channel to the UK to see Frances and Bob. Another adventure awaits us ... and them too!!

Lots of love to you all...as you know.

Bastide Towns

The heading is not a typo - there was no thought of "bastard towns" in French history....although Russell was believed to mumble something like that after climbing to the top of the third very steep and challenging b. town. Can't you just tell by the body language...?

Bastide Puycelsi

There are some 300 or so surviving Bastide towns in France, all built around 1200 and while "the best preserved" according to Lonely Planet include Monpazier, Domme and Villefranche de Rouergue to our north in the Dordogne region , we have discovered some smaller delights close to us too. There appears to be controversy between the different guides (Frommers, DK or Lonely Planet) as to what is a " good Bastide". While undoubtedly the authenticity and preservation of the architecture and artifacts is vital, there is also a view that too much emphasis on tourism spoils or taints the historical import. The tiny bastide township of Cordes is perhaps such a case because its sense of history gets absolutely lost in the plethora of touristy shops that line its main street. Visitors are mesmorised by the wares in the windows rather than the quaint restoration work that has been done.

Cordes, with its impossibly steep terrain

Our pick was Puycelsi, a tiny bastide town which we fell in love with for its charm and lack of pretentiousness. We found little tourism other than a cafe here and a restaurant there or a shop or two selling local produce (biscuits, jams, wines or handcrafts). The appeal lay in the fabulous little street scapes, the buildings themselves and the wonderful little courtyards that opened out into al fresco cafés. We like a bit of history but don't mind if it is broken up with a liberal dose of tourist pampering in the form of a leafy courtyard here and an umbrella-covered square full of luncheon menues and Vins de Pays there! And that is what we found in Puycelsi. Laid back, not overly touristy and incredibly pretty, cute and quaint. We found a gorgeous little hotel here (Russ is standing next to it) that costs 55 Euros a double per night and it boasts a pool and 2 gardens to relax in!! If we didn't have a magnificant house of our own to stay in, we might well have been tempted.

Puycelsi, our favourite b. town

Lunch in Puycelsi, overlooking the valleys below

(compliments of mum!!)

We settled for lunch instead, however, but may possibly return with Jan and Nossie. This circuit of the 'bastide towns' was pointed out to us by Geraldine's friend Jean-Francois, and we spent several days hypnotised and enthralled by the countryside journey as well by each of our destinations.

Between bastides, we found this cute hamlet of Laroque which sat in front of huge rock walls that seemed to contain caves. The holes are visible in the background. Later I read that there actually were ancient caves in the area although whether or not these are they, I am not sure. But again, such a cute little countryside stop for a glass of cold H2O

BUT when a bastide town suddenly appears round a corner, pivoting on the pinnacle of a very high hill like Penne (below), it is breathtaking, and one marvels at the engineering feat that created this kind of overhang so many centuries ago.

Penne (above) and Bruniquel












From what I have read, these fortified bastides were built in a hurry between the 12th and 13th centuries for both strategic and economic reasons to fill 'empty areas' in France just before the hundred years' war. They were apparently built by both the English and the French and all feature the most steep and curvy cobbled streets, narrow in the extreme, with a variety of building facias, including fascinating cantileavered rooms jutting out over tiny gardens. So pretty. So different to Australia...anywhere!! These are private properties but the owners have created such special gardens out of almost nothing and the result is really uplifting and so picturesque!

Always there is colour: plants somehow dug into inhospitable rubble that softens the edges of the buildings, and leads the eye upwards towards some prominant building at the end of the street. Pots strategically placed up steps, along paths, on old rusty chairs. All so incredibly pretty and cared for and loved!

Puycelsi (above) and Penne below.

Bruniquel

There are still ruins waiting to be restored in bastides like Bruniquel where we saw some areas with large scaffolding errected to keep us out, and other old houses or homes For Sale, although none said "renovator's dream"!!?. We also saw evidence of newly built homes made to look authentically old and in keeping with the style of the particular village. These however look far more spacious and comfortable than the ones we saw for sale!!

We met a Victorian man who has lived at Puycelci for 19 years. He came to France as an art historian and became incredibly involved and interested in the renovation of the bastide townships. Over that time he and his wife purchased 3 adjoining houses that, with the help of an architect, they joined together. In the process of knocking out walls , they discovered that the original had been one big home and the joy of finding fireplaces and old portals was a huge excitement. His house now forms a U shape around a small courtyard which they have made into a 5 table outdoor café/restaurant.

Another day, another luncheon??

To leave a comment instructions

1. Double click on the orange "comment" at the and of each posting.
2. To leave a comment you must have a google name and password. If you already have, just enter them and type in your comment. Copy the dumb letters above the word verification, and click on the box below. I forget what it is called. "PUBLISH POSTS" I checked it up!
3. If not you must apply for a password. It is free! Fill in your email address twice as requested and the copy the dumb letter above the word verification section and click on the box below. I still forget what it is called but it may be "sign in"! Now go back to 2. above. EASY!

Food, wonderful food....

Place Wilson In Toulouse

Just in case you haven't noticed, there has been an unbalanced emphasis in this blog on the food France has to offer, often at the expense of the rich historical heritage of this magnificent country. While we have done our best to visit cultural and historical sites, my eye in particular always gravitates to the little shops and the markets where the abundance of spectacular food stops me in my tracks.

I have decided that France is a very dangerous country for one as addicted to food as me!! There are just far too many displays of delectable delicacies in enticingly colourful and chic layers to ignore.

Early this morning Russ and I drove into Toulouse - a sleepy town at 7.30 on a Sunday morning -possibly because the University town's population of students were still succombing to the effects of Saturday night. Not so the market vendors however, who started at 6am!

The Lonely Planet paints Toulouse as " a lively, friendly city, pink by day and bright by night". We weren't involved in the brightness of night and that is how we found ourselves a perfect parking space in Rue D'Austerlitz, adjacent to Place Victor Hugo where the most brilliant undercover market or marché is housed. Even though we had walked to our local Balma market yesterday and bought all we needed, we wanted to see what Toulouse would offer. And this market is even better than the Deli section of Vic market in Melbourne.... and that is saying something!

Open only in the mornings, Tuesday to Sunday, it is a gourmand's paradise with an enormous variety of foods from clear eyed fish and shiny muscles in their shells

to deep red cuts of meat (apparently the French 'hang' their meat for longer than we do in Australia and thus the colour is unusually deep): from banks of cheeses to varieties of salad foods:

and from lazagnes to the inevitable baguettes, breads and pastries. I drooled over numerous forms of tarte de pommes, mille feuille, croissants, soft and oozy camemberts, goats cheeses and exotic sounding jams.

By comparison the fruit and vegie section outside the main doors pales into insignificance. How could it compete?

All around this area of Toulouse we found speciality shops. There was even a shop specialising in violets (the emblem of Toulouse) and featuring glacé violets, essence of violet, perfume of violet and plates and dolls decorated with an assortment of violets! Another shop had expensive truffle oils, Fois Gras in tins of varying types and cuts of duck meat with crunchy looking pieces of what used to be called "crackling" in my youth - but duck crackling not pork crackling. Fois Gras is a speciality of this area and while I find it offensive because of the cruel method of force feeding the animals, it is certainly a gourmet product that commands a hefty price.

So while Fois Gras will not be on our menu for obvious reasons, there are lots of the other food items that seem to have made my girth a smidge larger. I can no longer fit into my smart black slacks and have had to resort to my yoga pants for comfortable evening wear.Unless I can learn to withstand the lure of foods like the big cake I convinced Russ to buy for me today and the artichokes in oil and the camembert and the blue cheese, I will have to content myself with a rigorous diet and exercise regime when I get home. Either that or buy bigger clothes!!

In the meantime, I am thoroughly enjoying this foodies' paradise. It is right up my alley. And Russ ain't doing it too bad either!!

Carcassonne, La Cité, Cassoulet & The Canal du Midi

The old city of Carcassonne is close to where we will hire our canal boat, although with all of the locks, it is unlikely that we would reach it in our week of hire. Rick Stein, on his Canal du Midi adventures, stopped (I remember) at both Castelnaudary, and Carcassonne and made the local dish "cassoulet"- a must taste for those of us who watched his TV series. It is a peasant dish based on dried white beans, pork parts, duck, sausage, onion, celery and garlic all stewed up for hours and then baked before being left to coagulate and congeal. It sounds disgusting and looks it too, but aparently it is fabulous and even better after two days!! Russ said that if you eat it with your eyes closed, it is quite tasty although he is waiting for the inevitable production of flatulence today! It is not likely that I will be looking for the recipe but I am sure that Nossie will convince Russ to have another plateful during our time together!!

We had a lovely , if cold and cloudy day wandering the old La Cité of Carcassonne, and browsing the little streets of it's interior where about 350 people live. Apparently the town began back in the Gallo-Roman days some 2500 years ago, but came to dominance in the South of France in the 12th century when the Cathar religion grew strong. However, after the crusade against the cathar heretics in the 13th century (many ghastly massacres) the town became the fortified site that can be seen today. Later history shows that it sank into decline between the 17 and 19 centuries and much of it was a crumbling ruin by the time the architect named Viollet Le Duc (who also put his stamp on the Louvre in Paris) decided to restore it.

While only the lower limits of the walls are truly authentic, and there was controversy about the tops of the towers being pointy or flat, the restoration was listed as heritage by UNESCO in 1997. Aparently La Cité is the most popular French tourist attraction outside Paris (I read this somewhere) and has 3.5 million visitors every year ( work that out on a daily basis!)

kitschy touristy streets in La Cité

The view of La Cité as it is known is impressive as you drive into Carcassonne but you can't stop on the narrow roads to take a photo. It rises majestically from the hills on the horizon and presents an imposing vista of towers, ramparts and solid walls, making a huge statement. It apparently has 52 towers and 3 kms of ramparts and presents the visitor with a grand entrance over a drawbridge (no longer drawing, I glean) over a dry moat with two huge towers, in the middle of which are 2 iron or wooden grids that used to lower to keep out assailants.

There were also cavernous spaces above that allowed huge stone rocks to hail down on those trapped between the two grids. Charming stuff! If this image is not enough to get you in the mood, there is a museum of Instruments of Torture so you really get the picture. We declined to visit that one.

We learned heaps about the defences of this old citadel in the tour and it was fascinating stuff. An english speaking tour of the walled enclosures is available at about 2pm and is included in the entrance fee, but you can roam the perimetres or anywhere in the touristy souvenir-filled streets of the central part of the Cité for free. The charge is only for the historical museum part but we think this was fascinating and well worth the money. None of my photos do the place justice, but they do show the huge number of tourists we encountered on this rather ordinary day in summer.

However we found ourselves a nice leafy courtyard /beer garden, far from the madding crowd, and enjoyed some respite from the cold gale force "Cers" winds that blow onto La Cité from the valleys.

this should be a reduced photo size, but....

After lunch we decided to investigate the the other half of Carcassonne, the bastide sister city established in the 13th Century and where most of the polulation live. This is where the Canal Du Midi passes and of course we had to check it out. Russ took the most uninteresting picture of the canal and in deference to our friends, we decided NOT to include it!! But because this had been such an uninspiring vista of the canal, Russ decided we should take the long route home, along the back roads (not the péage), so a chance to see the canal would again present itself. The trip took about twice as long - without stops- but since it doesn't get dark here until 10pm it is like late night shopping every night and photos can be snapped until well after 9pm!!

We discovered wonderful spots on the way, like the little bridge over the river Aude;

the villages of Alzonne, Villepinte, Castelnaudary and Villefranche de-Lauragais where we had a convivial drink in a bar and then bought some lazagna from a charcuterie (the only vegetarian thing he had in the shop...AND he didn't speak a word of english so that was a challenge!)

We passed by a number of wind generators on a hill and actually stopped to see how much noise they made, but we were perhaps disappointed: they made nothing we could discern. But then again, we were perhaps half a kilometre from them. And then we found several fields of more mature sunflowers.

Most importantly after all the checking of maps and roads, we found the Canal Du Midi and we clamboured out of the car, down an embankment and onto the tow path to have a walk and find a spot for a couple of photos; we reckon this was a superb part to show you all!! In less than three weeks we will be floating serenely down this canal in our luxury canal boat with Jan and Nossie having a most indulgent and relaxing time. Russ can't wait.

Don't know where our next excursion into the french countryside might take us, but rest assured we are thinking of you all!

So, as Pam has learned to say, "toute à l'heure" !!!

Russ 'n Shirl

Albi - city of Toulouse Lautrec

About 64 kms north east of Balma lies the birthplace of Toulouse Lautrec. Albi is one of many bastide towns built in a hurry by the french in the 13th century just before the 100 year war with Britain. There are 300 surviving bastide towns in France today but they were

built to encourage settlement in empty areas of France. All follow a similar pattern of grid streets, a central square and fortified perimetres. Albi is no exception and is known mainly for its monolith of a church which dwarfs the surrounding area in a very imposing way. The Cathedral Sainte Cécile is not pretty; it wasn't meant to be. It was built to inspire fear and awe and to clearly demonstrate the power and strength of the Catholic Church against the Cathar heritics. It is the largest brick cathedral in the world.

photo of our approach to Sainte Cécile

The interior of the Cathedral is entirely painted in dark tones with scenes of Judgement Day, in three levels - the sky, the earth and Hell where the damned writhe in agony for their sins. It may be charming for those who are into it, but it did not appeal to us (as our friends would appreciate) however we were lured inside by the 18th century organs on which an Italian organist from Tréviglio was about to give a recital, the first for the summer season. The organs (16.4 metres wide and 15.6 metres high) are famous for their wonderful pitch as well as for the decorative casing in which they are housed. I didn't take any photos in deference to my good man who was actually beside me, but since he couldn't bear the sight of the cathedral walls and alcoves, I told him to close his eyes and let the music transpire and transport him with its sonorous chords. He did. It did. And he went to sleep.

When the snores began, I gently nudged him and asked him if he wanted to leave. He smiled broadly and we tip toed out.

It was to see the works of Toulouse Lautrec that we really went to Albi because this is where the bulk of his original work is held. It was donated by his parents after the Louvre rejected the offer.

I find him an interesting character who led a colourful but short life dying of alcoholism and syphyllis at the age of 36 having depicted much of the gay life of Montmartre in those heady days.

Paris was full of souvenirs of his work in the form of posters and I must admit to considering buying some on several occasions when we were there. Lautrec's work is not to everyone's taste,

although I love his stylistic and bold characterisations of the Can Can era, finding them colourful and stylised. The museum itself is housed in the Palais De Berbie with its classical gardens. One section is very formally laid out in the Saint -Salvi Cloister with cleverly devised rows of hedges which look stunning from above; the other planted area is just outside the museum itself and is more akin to a cottage garden with lots of colour and movement. Both are a remarkable contrast to the heavily fortified Palace itself which is like a huge bank vault, with only one small exit. Very secure one imagines.

Saint-Salvi Cloisters and the formal gardens there.

We will return to Albi on another trip because time ran out for us on this day and there is more to explore and enjoy including perhaps an al fresco luncheon. And it really is only 40 minutes on the Péage (motorway). Tomorrow we head off to Carcassonne to see another ancient Cité.

Sunday in the French Countryside...

Heading north east from Balma along narrow country roads, we stumble across the extensive fields of verdant yellow sunflowers that Bev and Mike had told us about. They are all facing east but are still very young and many have not yet opened. This field will be ablaze with yellow heads in about 3 or 4 weeks and the display will be amazing. We pass tiny hamlets or villages still shuttered down from Saturday night's celebrations after the Tour de France passed along this route; the red, white and blue flags, balloons, posters and ribbons still adorn the gate posts and the fences along the way. We pass along a tree lined avenue, spectacularly filtering the rays of the sun. No one is up and about yet.











Under the bridge, a view of Rabastens





At 10 am we reach Rabastens, a cute village on the Tarn river which has been listed a UNESCO heritage site. The major street of the village is tree lined and we discover the oldest independent cafe, Café Sports, and decide to have a coffee. We actually need a toilet but on inspecting the facilities which are euphemistically called "starting blocks", I decide my start had better be delayed. Jeans on a female and these quaint footprints cast in porcelain on either side of a hole, just don't go.












This will give you an idea of what I faced.




The owner/proprietor is serving the locals wine and a syrup mix and they are convivially playing cards in groups of 4 with nuts and pretzels beside them. He has a big cellar just beside our table and he lifts the lid and starts a perilous vertical climb down with empty bottles in his hand as he goes. I hand him a wayward bottle and glance down into this cavernous hole which obviously houses full bottles as well as empties: these are steep steps for a man who looks to be in his mid eighties. A newcomer enters the shop, dapper in a beret and looks around. he sees the open cellar and yells something that probably means, " is there any service around here?" and we hear the clumping of steps as our intrepid proprietor climbs back to view. With a scowl he looks around to see who has been so rude and then breaks into a huge smile as he recognises a friend. All is well.

We walk through the little village, over the span of the bridge and find ourselves in the neighbouring village of Coufouleaux where there is a huge Flea Market happening. We wander among each aisle of bric a brac, thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere. French and English music is being piped through loudspeakers and everyone is humming along. Food, beer and wine is being served so we indulge, we enjoy and then we wander back to Rabastens to explore under the bridge and wander along the ally ways between houses. Flowers are everywhere - in all sorts of nooks and crannies- all brightly coloured and hanging from window sills, spilling over large pots in doorways or lining the steps down to the bridge.















Photo of the bridge over the Tarn river at Rabastens





But while my attention is drawn to the colour of the plants and the picturesque nature of the old buildings separated by their narrow alleys,

spire of the old church framed by a wee street.

Russ' eyes hone in on things like fire hydrants, condom dispensers affixed to alley ways, water metres and cantilevered timber supports for the 2 storey homes in the area. He drags me to inspect the very small hydro scheme with its two turbines working feverishly on the side of the Tarn. The weir that powers this scheme is merely 2 metres in height we guess, yet the turbine is turning well with a maximum output, we read, of 216 cubic metres per second (or something like that!)


council landscaping

the little hydro scheme

Different perspectives. Different appreciations!!

Sunday lunch is well on its way by now; the patisseries are closed and everyone is heading home to be with family or friends. We get on our way.