We do get to see more from the man I would personally call a
genius at his aptly named Teatro-Museo (Theatre Museum) in Figueres, the town
where he was born in 1904 and died in 1989.
He is buried in the museum’s crypt, located in the centre of the museum,
maybe that’s why you can almost feel his presence here.
The red coloured museum building topped with giant golden
eggs houses the largest and most diverse collection of his works from paintings
and sculptures and includes the ‘Mae West apartment’ where you look through
giant lens, and only when you are in the correct position Mae West’s face
appears with its weird yellow synthetic substance that to me looks scarily like
Donald Trump’s hair.
It’s hard to know where to start there are so many artworks, even the building itself is special. As you enter the main gallery and the first piece that catches your eye is an immaculate black Cadillac, on which stands a 4m high voluptuous statue of the goddess Esther.
The main gallery is topped by a fantastic glass dome, called a geodesic, and on a sunny day would look spectacular. Dali’s famous melting watches painting hangs above a crazy golden bed whose four legs are made to look like weird sea serpents in another gallery.
A new addition is the jewellery annex, with beautiful pieces made from gold, platinum, diamonds, rubies, emeralds and sapphires, coral and three unique pieces I liked, lips shaped by rubies with beautiful little pearls for the teeth, a diamond-shaped eye surrounds a blue eye hat is a working clock, and a gold-encrusted heart shape with a beating ruby-encrusted heart. Who else but Dali would think of something like this?
If you are fortunate enough to visit Dali’s Teatro-Museum just make sure you have lots of time, there are nineteen rooms, and then the jewellery annex to visit.
The next two weeks passed all in a bit of a blur.
First Brian came down with a horrible Gastro bug, and being the kind and sharing guy that he is, he passed it on to me.
I won’t go into details but will just say two people sick with Gastro in a 6m x 2.3m box on wheels is not a fun time.
(sorry the photos are smaller in this post, but my data is running low and I have sooo many posts to catch up)
It seems strange for Australian’s to ‘head south’ for the
winter, but here in the Northern Hemisphere to seek the sun, and warmer weather
that’s exactly what you must do.
The mountains of the Pyrenées-Orientales run as a natural
border between France and Spain and this department was considered Spanish up
until 1659. Though here in the far south
of France, climate and geography alone already give it the palpable feel of
Given a choice of a drive by the sea or over mountains, the
mountains will always draw me towards them first. Though after a few days navigating circuitous
mountain roads, and chilly nights sleeping in the shadows of ruined Cathar
Castles, we make our way a little further south, slowly edging our way to the warmer
coast and Spain.
The foothills of the Pyrenées dip their toes into the pristine water of the Mediterranean at the pretty French village of Collioure, on what is called the Côte Vermeille or Vermilion Coast because of its red rock outcrops.
Against a backdrop of vineyards that seem to be pinched between the mountains and the sea, it’s not hard to imagine why Matisse and Picasso, spent so much time in this area of tiny fishing ports with their soft pastel-colored houses and rocky bays.
The transition from France to Spain was only noted by a
signpost, and the noticeably cheaper price of fuel, groceries and best of all,
Spain or Catalonia?
With its own language, Catalan, culture, flag and its own
semiautonomous regional government Catalunya or Catalonia in English has a
unique identity. It is also one of
Spain’s wealthiest, and most productive regions, and by the protest signs,
demonstrations this region of nearly 7.5 million people are still fighting hard
for their independence.
We enter Spain or Catalonia near Cadaqué, the pretty whitewashed village on the Costa Brava (Rugged Coast) where Salvador Dali vacationed as a child, and close to the tiny fishing village of Portlligat where Dali lived from 1930 until the death of his muse and wife Gala, in 1982. The house started as a one-room fisherman’s hut, and little by little over the course of forty years the couple enlarged and extended it to the rambling house it is today. Dali described the house “as like a true biological structure, each new pulse in our life has its own new cell, a room”. Sadly, we didn’t get to visit the house as it’s essential to reserve tickets in advance for the small, eight-person private tour, but I do have some pics of the outside.
If you ever have the opportunity to visit this area, I would definitely recommend making that booking
Did you know that Salvador Dali apart from creating over 1500 paintings held his first exhibition at only 15 years old? He also created thousands of artworks, directed films, wrote a book or two and made his fortune from commercial posters, much like Toulouse Lautrec, the French painter born in the city of Albi that we visited, and his museum only recently. Lautrec died in 1901, only in his forties, it’s a shame I’m sure he and Dali would have got on well.
We wish all our family and friends a happy and healthy 2020.
We have visited some incredible destinations over the past 20 months of our Hijinks in a Hymer trip. We’ve met some wonderful people and made friends for life, eaten some delicious local cuisines and probably drunk way too much red wine.
Thank you for following our travels, and all the lovely comments you make on this little blog of ours.
I will update all the places between Castres and today as soon as I can.
Cheers, Julie (or Hulia my Spanish name) and Brian.
I have updated our travel map right up to today. Can’t get the map to show but the link should work, I hope
We were fortunate to be chosen by Caroline to care for her beautiful home and two dogs, Martin and Griboule, or Marty and Gribby as we fondly call them, for the month of November.
There are also two cats here, one is lovely friendly little black stray we have called Zorro because of her colour and that she a short Z shaped tail, maybe it was caught in a door or a hereditary trait as she is part of the *clowder* of cats from the farm down the road.
*I just recently learnt this new word ‘clowder’ which is a collective noun for a group of cats and have waiting to use it in a post.
The other cat we haven’t yet seen Caroline inherited when she bought this house. It has a chip that opens a door where her bed and food are, it’s getting eaten so she must be around, although we have not seen her in the ten days we have been here.
Caroline lives in a wonderful area of the Tarn Department, near the city of Castres, in an architecturally converted barn that sits on 7 acres.
The property sits at the end of a quiet road with only three houses on it.
As we entered through the huge iron gates and then proceeded along the circular drive that leads you to Caroline’s house, we both looked at each other and said, WOW we get to spend nearly a month here, so lucky!
The Tarn in Occitanie is a lovely area that we had not explored before. Mountains, forests, rivers, fortified towns and the vineyards that produce that delicious Gaillac wine. We have all heard of the wine regions of Bordeaux and Burgundy but this area has been producing wine for more than a thousand years more than those regions. Don’t forget that the Romans came from the south and they favoured hillsides for their vines, this area also had rivers for transport.
Castres is often called ‘Little Venice’, it even has a Carnival held in March every year. It is a lovely town built along the River Agout, which also, by the way, borders Caroline’s property.
In Castres brightly coloured 12th-century houses with corbelled facades and their basements immersed in the river make a good photo I think. For centuries they served as workshops for tanners and parchment makers who used the water from the river to work the skins. The drying rooms had the open balconies and the living area was the top floors.
We are still in one of the largest duck and foie-gras areas of France, they even have a special market that runs every Saturday from November until April in Castres called the ‘Foie-gras market’.
We have noticed many high sandstone, slate or tile-roofed towers with small vents very close to the top. Could they be for storing grain, corn? Maybe, but no, on further investigation we found out that they are Pigeon houses, des pigeonniers in French.
It was the Romans that first bought “columbaria'” or pigeons to France and since Roman times anyone who had enough land to support a pigeon population was permitted to build a place where the birds could breed and be protected from predators. Later, French kings tried to restrict the privilege to members of the aristocracy and higher clergy, but this rule was defied in the south, thus explaining why most of the older pigeon towers are in the south of France.
There are hundreds of pigeon towers in the Tarn.
They are built with external ledges to prevent rodents from climbing up to the accommodation area where the pigeons nested in alcoves or hanging wicker baskets. Access for the birds was through flight holes in the upper level, which were small enough to prevent owls and hawks from entering. Human access from the ground floor was usually by an internal ladder. As the tender meat of pigeons was and still is highly appreciated in Europe, and before chemical fertilisers emerged in the 19th century, the market for pigeons, and their droppings as fertiliser, was very profitable and, in these areas of poor soils, the pigeon was an important source of revenue to farmers and landowners. Pigeons were of course always used as “air mail’ and in WWl a pigeon house was erected in Albi to carry messages to the forces.
The pigeon houses were also commonly part of a wife’s dowry and considered very valuable, sadly nowadays pigeons are considered a pest.
Colombe is the word for dove in France, and the beautiful name of a friends granddaughter, French is such an exquisite language.
Albi and Cordes Sur Ciel that I spoke about in a previous post are in this area and if they aren’t enough to put this Department on your ‘bucket list’ I will just have to tell you more.
Regional Natural Park of the Haut-Languedoc
The south-eastern part of the Tarn department falls within the Regional Natural Park of the Haut-Languedoc.
The unique rock-strewn scenery of the Sidobre region centred around Castres features a wonderful landscape of balancing boulders and forests which is a great place to get out and have a walk with Gribby and Marty. Although with their own lovely 7 acres to explore every day, they don’t really need it, but with our daily baguette and lovely French cuisine, we sure do!
Granite extracted from this area accounts for more than half of the granite production in France. It’s commonly used in building, flooring, airport runways and headstones.
A few pictures from the lovely village of Lautrec below.
Tomorrow we will leave Castres and the lovely Tarn, heading in a southerly direction looking for sun and warmer weather for our second winter in Hermione, so the next time you hear from us will likely be from Spain!
Naturally, we take the back roads, some lead us through the gentle countryside peppered with villages of half-timbered houses whose beams look to have been arranged in such intricate patterns that resemble a Fair Isle jumper pattern.
Others lead us past fields full of those distinctive reddish-brown Salers cows with their long horns and big eyes, that I so love taking pictures of.
But honestly the moment you stop on a side road, no matter how remote it is, someone comes along wanting to use it. We joke ‘a tractor will be along soon’ and sure enough even though a minute ago there was nothing in sight, and I have my perfect photo setup you will hear the familiar rumble of agricultural machinery, and there goes a tractor.
It’s along those back roads you get to see to nature, something that I believe I have taken for granted after growing up in Australia and then living in Canada for more than 24 years.
In both of those countries, you see regularly see native animals.
In Australia, its kangaroos hopping along the side of the road or emus flapping their wings while running. Or cars driving around the slow-moving and lucky wombats waddling across the road. And of course, living near the sea now we often see whales and turtles cruising by as they move north to warm waters have their babies.
Canada introduced me to brown bears, elk, moose and the everyday visitors that came to the garden, squirrels and those mischievous masked raccoons that could open the garbage can with ease, even though I struggled with the catch every time.
In Europe it’s rare to see wildlife, but luckily on those quiet back roads we take so often, staying away from the motorways, we have been lucky to see so far at least twenty peacocks with their hens and babies off for a walk down the road, they completely filled the road so we had to stop, but that also gave me time to take some photos.
At other times we have seen a family of sanglier, mum, dad and their four little piglets strolling through a paddock, quite a few foxes, nesting storks, numerous hares and rabbits and a couple of deer.
And just today, what actually gave me the idea to write about the wildlife, was seeing a beautiful pair of pheasants that just sat quietly on the side of the road and watched us drive past.
If you look at a map of southwestern France you will notice an area just west of Toulouse where the train lines don’t run and the motorways veer away like a river around giant rocks.
That space is Gascony, one of the most rural and unspoiled regions in France
Lying in South West France and spanning the area roughly between Toulouse and Bordeaux, Gascony enjoys a warm, sunny climate, very similar to Tuscany in Italy that lies at about the same latitude.
Gascony is the beautiful, unspoiled and completely rural area of southwest France, with pretty honey-coloured bastide villages, many dating back to the middle ages. It’s bordered by the Atlantic Ocean at Bordeaux in the west, in the south, it spreads close to the Pyrenees Mountains and then east to Toulouse.
It’s fairly clear where the heart of Gascony is located; it’s more or less the modern-day French departments of the Gers, with historic Auch at its center.
The big problem with Gascony is that it no longer exists on the map of modern France. It is not a clearly defined entity, but an area whose borders and territories have changed over time and feudal wars, and in today’s France Gascony is neither a region nor a department, and actually spreads over two regions.
The name Gascony was officially abandoned following the French Revolution, but the Gers department uses the name Gascony for tourism purposes.
This is where I get confused in France, departments, regions, and areas with long abandoned names that are still being used. Oooooh la la it makes my head hurt trying to figure them all out sometimes.
But what I do know for sure is that Gascony is a “gourmet region” in France, well known for both its free-range poultry, including quail and other game birds, and its duck paté de foie gras.
The food here is definitely rich. It’s where everything is cooked in duck fat not olive oil. Roasted potatoes, sausages, eggs and in the case of that pillar of Gascon food, duck magret or confit all cooked in good local duck fat.
Autumn is a great time to be here with the leaves on the turn and the vineyards red and yellow and heady with fruit. Come autumn, most villages will have a big harvest festival – with dancing in the streets, wine tasting, and local food. We just happened upon this one.
Duck is on the menu here like beef and lamb are in Australia. Confit of duck with white beans, roasted duck, cured duck breast in a salad, and one I haven’t yet tried duck gizzards are just a few.
The Department of Gers is not very big, and although not the most sparsely populated district, it is the most agricultural, with more land under cultivation than any other French district.
The air is clean, it’s quiet, and when the sky is clear you see so many stars as there is very little light pollution.
Humans in the Gers are vastly outnumbered by livestock, especially ducks.
Hedgerows of broom reminiscent of the UK, line fields of corn, grazing pastures and the important vineyards that grow the special white grapes for its most famous product, Armagnac, a barrel-aged grape brandy similar to Cognac, but stops short of the double distillation required for Cognac. It’s smooth and golden and even for a non-brandy drinker like me, a lovely way along with a piece of chocolate to finish off a splendid meal.
Floc, usually drunk as an aperitif, is a local drink that was new to us, it’s a mix of fresh apple juice with a dash of Armagnac, and it’s delicious. It could nearly come under the label of a ‘health drink’, well it does have fresh apple juice in it!
Gascony is another rarely visited area, it doesn’t have the ‘bucket list’ grand chateaux, opulent palaces or soaring basilicas. This region’s treasure are tucked just out of sight like they are waiting to be given their moment. Again another of France’s best-kept secrets.
Auch (rhymes with gauche) is in Gascony, and it has a magnificent cathedral, yes there are not many churches I can walk by even now.
It looks like a fine example of Gothic church building, with handsome twin bell towers, step inside and you find beautiful stained glass windows but the piéce de résistance is its vaulted ceiling choir with 113 thronelike stalls of intricately carved oak, depicting biblical scenes and figures, some of them in gruesome detail, that is some of the most beautiful woodworking we have ever seen.
I suppose I should mention why we made a little side trip to visit this special Gascon area, apart from of course the ducks and Armagnac.
There is a little town called Condom, a name that makes us English speakers chuckle but of course, the French can’t see what the fuss is all about as their word is préservatif.
Not surprisingly the now well screwed down road signs are routinely stolen and taken home, souvenirs to be displayed on garage walls and in “man caves”.
The name is really just the shortening from its Gaelic historic name of ‘Condatomagus’, which means a meeting of two rivers. But to say ‘I come from Condom’ would be funny, well for me anyway.
Of course, I just took a photo of the town’s name, the sign was too large to fit in my bag.
France has a special designation called ‘Les Plus Beaux Villages de France’, meaning The Most Beautiful Villages in France, which promotes small rural villages that have a rich and cultural appeal.
Their collective aim is expressed poetically as only the French can do; ‘to avoid the pitfalls of the village museum without heart …and to give again life around the fountain or the shaded place of limes and plane trees’ The selection process is rigorous, so to achieve this status is a great honour. It’s not surprising to me that Carcassonne is not a “Beaux Village”
We have found that every single one we have visited certainly deserves that designation.
Below are just a few of my pics, and some descriptions/stories of my favourites of the designated Beau villages we have been to in the Loire, Burgundy, Avergne, Aveyron and the Tarn and Lot in the past couple of months.
Many times, we feel as though we have found a chink in time and blundered through it.
Ancient gates, many still have their deadly portcullis and ramparts that surround and protect these fortified towns.
Beautiful Gothic style churches with their intricately carved doorways, some parts almost as fine as lace and the medieval half-timbered houses, often with walls that lean out precariously or built haphazardly around a tree-lined main square.
Many of these villages are not more than a kilometre square, and we wonder what it would be like to have lived here, where everyone knew each other.
It would be a dream to have a ‘holiday house’ in a place like this. I guess I will just have to start buying those lottery tickets!
After our very peaceful night at the Ostrich farm we were ready to conquer Conques.
Conques was the third place that Georges suggested we visit, and it was another excellent suggestion!
It is another one of those places that must be seen to be believed, photos just don’t do it justice. Again, a hilltop town and named after the shell-shaped basin, Concha in Latin, on the slope and high above a river, cocooned by forest and the lush green valley below.
There are only apparently around 100 full-time residents that live in this village of half-timbered houses that look like it’s out of a fairy tale, complete with castle, sounds delightful, but in peak tourist season sadly its unbelievably busy.
Conques has been a religious site since the 8th
century when a hermit monk decided to build a small chapel. Soon after the relics (skull bones) of a
young Christian girl, Saint Foy, martyred nearby were bought to the chapel,
from then on Conques started receiving pilgrims on their way to Santiago de
Compostella in Spain. Now the pilgrims
have the beautiful Romanesque Abbey Church of St Foy to visit and the Treasury
where they can see the golden, precious stone encrusted statue of St Foy.
Figeac is another of those very special medieval towns with a still very much lived-in feel.
But it was the museum that caught my attention here. Jean-Francois Champollion the man whose efforts in deciphering the Rosetta Stone and thereby provided the key for cracking the Egyptian hieroglyphics was born in this tiny, medieval village. Now the mansion where he was born is devoted to the history of writing and has a huge slate Rosetta Stone in its courtyard.
Miniscule St Cirq Lapopie teeters at the crest of a sheer cliff, high above the River Lot, it’s terracotta-roofed houses and vertiginous streets tumble down the steep hillside. It’s another one of those villages with incredible views you would love to live in, but then as we pass through the ancient gateway we see a sign advising us that we may not bring our horses in. Damn, so there goes my dream of living in the country and having a horse. Maybe they might let me have a cow or goat.
Collonges-la-Rouge I think the label “most beautiful village of France” could have been born in Collonges-la-Rouge.
Imagine a village built from red sandstone and centered in the middle of a beautiful green setting. Its unique colour comes from the iron oxide found on this red sandstone plateau in the heart of the Dordogne. Collonges was once famous for its wine, but the phylloxera virus destroyed the vineyards, now the economy is based on tourism of course, but also walnuts and their oil and chestnut production. All through this beautiful red soil area are thousands of beautiful walnut trees, their leaves starting to change colour in Autumn.
This village would be an artist’s delight.
Cordes-sur-Ciel; or Cordes in the sky is no ordinary hilltop town, its medieval streets and buildings are literally in the clouds… its centuries-old stone houses so typical of the bastide villages of the Tarn, Cordes-sur-Ciel is a striking sight that has barely changed for centuries.
In centuries long gone this area marked an important frontier during the Hundred Years War so many bastide towns or villages were built up and fortified back in the Middle Ages, usually set up in a grid-like fashion to make them easily protected, and featuring a central square in the heart of the town.
Rocamadour is one of those places that I will remember forever.
It sits dramatically clamped to the side of a vertical cliffside, its 14th-century ramparts and chateaux at the top, then by a winding twelve level Chemin de Croix, each with a station of the cross until you reach the 14th-century chapel which houses the miraculous statue of the Black Virgin.
Millions of pilgrims have made their way to Rocamadour over the centuries, many enter on their knees over the hard-cobbled streets. Henry Plantagenet, the King of England and Count of Anjou made his pilgrimage during his reign and was apparently miraculously cured. There is also a church bell that rings all by itself when a miracle at sea happens. I did hear bells, but I’m sure they were just striking the hour.
The best view of Rocamadour is from the opposite side of the valley.
ALBI, the fourth of Georges recommendations actually has two main claims to fame, a truly magnificent cathedral and a truly marvelous painter.
The Cathedral Ste Cecile resembles a castle more than a church, built entirely of countless millions of bricks, it is one of the largest brick structures in the world. Begun in 1282, the cathedral took well over a century to build, it’s defensive walls hark back to many religious wars.
The painter was Toulouse-Lautrec, Albi’s most celebrated son.
The Museum Toulouse-Lautrec is lodged inside a 13th-century palace. The Berbie Palace, is one of the oldest Bishop’s castles in France, even older than the famous Palace of the Popes in Avignon.
And the price of admission to access to that alone was worth it. Built on a naturally fortified site overlooking the River Tarn, and of the same red/orange brick as the Cathedral, with the most magnificent brick interior vaulted ceilings, Brian was drooling, and sadly not because of the art.
I do love Toulouse-Lautrec’s work and remember many vividly from my Art History classes, especially his work from the Parisian underworld, particularly the dancers of Moulin Rouge and the prostitutes of the Montmartre district of Paris. Now thinking about those I’m surprised that the nuns allowed us to study them in my Catholic Girls High School.
His skills as a cartoonist and lithographer made him a
pioneer of poster art.
CAHORS is the last Beaux Village I’ll tell you about. Tucked into a rounded nook of the Lot River, is another of those areas you may have never heard about, not on the major tourist route, but the majestic surrounding Lot Valley is just waiting to be explored.
It was the unshakable Valentré Bridge we came mostly to
see. With its three towers massive
towers which all once had portcullises and gates to close against the enemy. It took seventy years to build and legend
has it that the builder made a pact with the devil to help in the completion of
the bridge. There is apparently a carving of a devil at the top of one of the
We had a major storm system pass through this area the day
previously and the River was raging, lots of debris including some very large
trees passing by.
Cahors is also famous for its wine, a deeply coloured red wine in the Malbec variety. It is said that you can tell a true Cahors wine if when you hold the glass in your hand, you should be unable to see your fingers through the wine. We had to try a few, just to make sure we had the right one
Cathar Country is one of the most fascinating areas to visit in Southern France. With an incredible heritage and turbulent history of heresy and crusades, Cathar Country or (Pays Cathare in French) in the Occitanie region is an area of medieval castles, villages and Romanesque abbeys related to the Cathars and Catharism.
As I mentioned the Cathars in the Carcassonne story on the Canal du Midi part 1 post, and promised a follow-up, here it is.
Hopefully, you are as interested in world religions as I am, and I thought you may like to know a little about the Cathars. If not maybe just skip this post.
The Cathars were a religious group that appeared in Europe during the 11th century and flourished in this Languedoc region of France, where we are now. They were also called ‘Albigenses’ (as coming from the town of Albi).
Cathars (from the Greek katharos, which means “unpolluted” or “pure”)
They believed in two principals, a good God, and his evil adversary, much like the mainstream Christians, but rejected the idea of priesthood and of the use of church buildings.
They did have a sort of hierarchy of men and women elected as leaders and unlike the Catholics, they believed men and women were equals. These leaders worked, often as weavers or in manual trades as did their congregation.
Cathars cut themselves off from others in order to retain as much purity as possible.
Cathars believed in reincarnation and refused to eat meat, were strict about living in poverty, not telling lies, or swearing oaths and allegiances.
They looked upon the Catholic clergy bejeweled in their finery, living in palaces and preaching poverty with ridicule.
Cathar practices were often in direct contradiction to how the Catholic
Church conducted business, especially with regards to the issues of poverty and
the moral character of priests. The Cathars believed that everyone should be
able to read the Bible and translated it into the many local languages.
The Cathars also had no objection to contraception,
euthanasia or suicide and not surprisingly Catharism was supported by the
nobility as well as the common people.
Arguably just as interesting, Protestants share much in common with Cathar ideas, and there is some reason to believe that early reformers were aware of the Cathar tradition. Even today some Protestant Churches claim a Cathar heritage
The Cathars also would not pay taxes to the Catholic Church,
that was probably their undoing.
The head of the Catholic Church Pope Innocent lll appointed a Holy Army and called a crusade against the Cathars, and over the next two centuries an estimated half a million Languedoc men, women, and children were massacred, Catholics as well as Cathars, as the crusaders killed indiscriminately.
Languedoc once a sophisticated and wealthy region was in economic decline, but the all-powerful Catholic Church in a sustained campaign of genocide had exterminated the Cathars.
Brian was interested in seeing the dam Riquet built at Revel, the barrage of Saint-Ferréol.
After a quick stop at Castelnaudry to have the town’s famous dish Cassoulet for lunch (I will share the recipe at the end of this post ), we arrive at Revel.
There was an interesting museum about Riquet we visited that helped explain some the technical things that Brian needed to know about the Canal du Midi’s construction, and the water catchment system and how the streams that run from the dam feed into the canal at the water divide, the highest point between the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean sea.
The water supply system that feeds the canal starts in the Massif Central, the Saint Ferreol reservoir, the dam, is located in its foothills. In order to supply the Canal du Midi, Riquet diverted part of the mountain’s water by means of a hydraulic network combining channels and reservoirs and was at one time released by three bronze taps, it was updated in 1994 to hydroelectric sluice gates.
The 18kms of channel feed both slopes of the canal feeding in at Naurouze.
Then it was onto another France Passion camper stop at an Angora Goat Farm,
The wool was beautiful, but I couldn’t imagine ever wearing an angora jumper living in Queensland, so we just bought some fresh goats’ cheese, and had a very peaceful night’s sleep.
Toulouse is the end of the Canal du Midi, and I was excited to reach it.
Not that I was getting tired of watching the canal boats slip quietly by those magnificent plane treed lined banks, or trying to manoeuvre through all those locks, but I was excited to finally be in Toulouse, a city we have driven around and past so many times on our way somewhere else.
Toulouse is a magical town, so vibrant it almost leaves you breathless with its bustling streets, trendy cafés and the most magical red/pink brick buildings.
With no local stone at their disposal, the city’s forefathers became artisan bricklayers, building magnificent churches, townhouses, and public buildings in a handsome red brick that turns from a fiery orange to a soft pink with the setting sun.
In the 15th and 16th centuries, much of Toulouse’s wealth came from its trade in ‘Woad’ a blue dye derived from plants, and if anyone has read about Boudica, the warrior Queen from Britain who came close to defeating the Romans, you will know all about woad.
Nowadays Toulouse is probably known more for its Aerospace industry, with the headquarters for Airbus, the Galileo Positioning System, and Spot Satellite Systems that supply Google with those GPS directional maps we use to get to places, and the detailed terrain images you can use to look up pics of our homes, and check out to see if our neighbour was caught on camera mowing his lawn in his undies, not naming names of course CRAIG.
And just to add to all that bustle, Toulouse was hosting it’s huge annual Marathon this weekend and there were some very fit, lycra-clad bodies wandering the sights as well.
Toulouse, known as La Villa Rose or the Pink City, I think it’s one of France’s best-kept secrets.
Take a dutch oven and grease it with the duck fat. Brown the sausage and duck confit.
Remove the meats, add the onions and garlic. Slightly caramelize, then deglaze with a touch of white wine.
Add beans and meat. Stir for a minute.
Add chicken stock, Roma tomatoes, and chopped parsley. Bring to a simmer.
Add tomato , bouquet garni and simmer on low for 1 hr to infuse the herb flavours.
Add portions to bowls, garnish with fresh thyme, and serve with French baguette and enjoy.
Probably just should mention all those beans could give you a little gas, not saying it happened of course……..but maybe try the cassoulet when you are living somewhere larger than a 6m x 2.5m motorhome.
A few years ago, we watched my favourite British chef, Rick Stein filming his ‘French Odyssey’ BBC TV series, cooking and cruising the Canal du Midi in a beautiful boat built especially for canal travel.
Ever since Brian and I have talked about how great it would be to do something similar, except for the cooking hahah, so here we are doing it our way, (as usual) in Hermione. No Brian hasn’t been busy making her amphibian, there are roads that run right alongside most of the canal.
A little history about the Canal du Midi first;
Stretching for 241kms between Toulouse and the southern port
of Sète, the Canal du Midi is the queen of French canals.
A waterway that connects the Atlantic to the Mediterranean had been dreamed of since Roman times and was finally realized in the 17th century under the extraordinary visionary, Pierre-Paul Riquet, a salt tax collector who saw the economic and strategic advantages of a waterway that bypassed the pirates, storms and the long journey around Spain.
Riquet a mathematical genius painstakingly devised a system of aqueducts, tunnels and locks to overcome the areas difficult terrain, and solved the problem that stumped the Romans of a steady water supply to the canal, by harnessing the springs and streams of Black Mountain into a huge dam, then channelling it to keep the canals filled where at this highest point of the canal the water could run down both slopes, towards Toulouse at 130m and Sete at sea level.
The canal took 15 years and 25,000 workers to build, it has 65 locks to pass through the largest, the Fonserranes, consisting of a row of 9 oval-shaped locks that drop 33m over a 300m length.
The old wooden barges laden with barrels of wine, flour for
the mills and livestock were pulled by horses at a distance of about 10 kms per
The canal today is used just for pleasure, and we have seen
flags from many different countries displayed proudly, we even had a chance to
chat with some Aussies as they passed through one of the locks we just happened
to be parked up at.
Sadly, Riquet passed away before the completion of the Canal du Midi, but he did secure his family’s financial future with the taxes and excise charges paid to use to the canal.
The Canal du Midi became a UNESCO World Heritage Site in
Some 20,000 Plane trees line the Canal as it meanders
through ancient villages, under Roman bridges and fortifications, and as we are
of course in the South of France, alongside vineyards.
Most nights we manage to find a nice quiet place to stay, overlooking the canal or the towpath, like tonight at Capestang where on one side we look at the boat lined canal, and the other side, the cemetery.
Our next night’s stop at Le Somail was so good we stayed two nights. There was an amazing very old book shop, where we managed to fill a couple of hours, that must have had a million books in it, but better yet on a barge that had been converted to a mini-market I found Vegemite! We had run out over the summer and I was so desperate for some Vegemite I asked Jess to mail some to me, as far as we can tell it’s still caught up at customs in Germany.
The speed limit is only 8 km along the canal, so the boats just seem to slip by with barely any wake or noise.
The city of Narbonne is not on the Canal du Midi, but there is an offshoot, the Canal de la Robine that leads us there for a look at this old Roman city, and that is off the tourist track, so just the type of place we like to seek out.
The impressive town square sits right over the top of the
Via Domitia, the very important road that ran from Rome, right through the
south of France to Spain. We sat
drinking our coffees at a café on the square picturing the merchants using this
very area to sell their wares, and Roman soldiers marching through here. It was only discovered in 1997 and is a
stunning memento in the centre of this city of its Roman inhabitants from 2100
We didn’t think much could top seeing the old Roman Road, but just behind the Archbishops Palace we discover the L’Horreum, subterranean galleries built in the 1st century B.C., and thought to be an underground warehouse. They were found in 1838 and only partially cleared out and explored. Capitals, columns, reliefs, and inscriptions can still be seen on the walls, as well as a collection of amphoras for storing wine and oil that were found in some of the tiny storerooms.
Brian was very impressed with the fact that the structure
was still intact, and we could still walk around in these subterranean tunnels,
once again just proving how impressive those Romans were.
We also love a good Market Hall and the beautiful Les Halles, built over 100 years ago didn’t disappoint. Butchers, bakers, fruit, and veg as well as several lunch counters that were bustling with lunchtime customers. The busiest was owned by a former French Rugby player, Gilles Belzon, I’m not sure if they had the best food, or that his fans just wanted to get up close to him.
In a city like Narbonne with so many beautiful buildings
it’s hard to pick a favourite, but this one located right on the town square,
‘Aux Dames de France’ or the ‘Ladies of
France’ was once an exclusive department store, now it’s a Monoprix where you
can buy anything from makeup (I bought my new lippy here) and clothes to
We’re back on our ‘Canal route’ and staying at another of the fantastic France Passion sites. This one right beside the canal in Trèbes is a wine and olive oil producer, and if that isn’t enough, they have donkeys and the portliest pig we have ever seen. She could barely waddle over for some apple slices.
Jutting from a rocky spur of land the fortress of Carcassonne was one of the Cathars’ (a little story about the Cathars to follow) most important strongholds and is also now considered to be the best conserved medieval castle in Europe.
Founded in Antiquity it became a very prosperous trading city
in the Middle Ages due to its location.
Bristling with 2 sets of zigzag battlements, stout walls and
52 spiky towers topped with their distinctive ‘witch’s hat’ looking roofs, the
fortified city looks like something out of a storybook. Somewhere I read that the old town’s
population is only 120. That’s just
twice the number of its 52 towers.
The first view is captivating, two sets of zigzag battlements, parapets, turrets and 52 spiky towers with their distinctive conical slate tiled roofs that like polished grey pencil points, or witches’ hats. The two concentric rings of town walls total 3km of battlements, and that surprises me, somehow it looks larger, as from the valley below Carcassonne sitting high on the hill is visible from many kilometers away.
It’s not surprising that Carcassonne is a UNESCO World Heritage site, but we find the place relentlessly touristique, it seems to have lost whatever soul if may have once had.
We here in October and I dread to think what it must be like in August when the tourist coaches disgorge groups of fifty or more at a time. An estimated 6 million tourists descend on Carcassonne every year. All along the lovely cobbled streets where there were once homes are now shops selling postcards, soap and souvenirs marked as ‘produits régionals’, that sadly on a closer look at the label are not.
We have visited here twice over the years and both times it’s been relatively quiet, and we have been able to easily wander the old cobbled streets that previously the Gauls, Romans, Visigoths, Moors, and Franks have walked before us.