Lunch in Limoux

Flowering plum--brilliant against the stones

I NEVER tire of this view of the Aude

I know it might sound petty but I have been a little down in the dumps this week.  The only thing to which I can attribute it is that all this learning has taken a toll on my spirit.  Not very much is easy, and yes, I know it was my choice to make such a radical change in my life.  Most of the time, I feel pretty sunny, but certainly I can be allowed one or two moments of frustration.

Happy surprise--market day in Limoux, but where is the produce?

Today, I took myself off to Limoux for lunch.  It was more of an excuse to take the 1 Euro train ride through the countryside, and with each new sighting of spring, I could feel my spirits lifting, lifting, lifting.  I took some photos from the train window, so please bear in mind that the quality isn't always the best, but I would like to share some of the pictures of the surrounding environs of the Carcassonne area and the Aude.  

I just finished reading a history of Limoux that I really enjoyed.  So much Roman influence is  apparent and there are spots now that I really would like to visit.  I am fascinated by the Roman feats of engineering, especially having watched local workmen tear up Rue Verdun, replace the utility lines and repave the streets.  And they used heavy equipment.  

Street?   No problem, just build across it

This gargoyle looks scared rather than scary

Limoux's bubbly white wine predates Champagne, but they didn't do as hot a job marketing as did the vintners up north.  But the Cremat de Limoux  tickles my nose in the same way.

The Aude was swift and clear, I watched several ducks simply ride the current downstream.  I still quake to see the high water marks from historic floods.

If I didn't love Carcassonne so much, I could be very happy as a Limouxine.  (At least as long as the 1 Euro regional train is available)  Limoux is sort of like the Arcata of the Aude--those of you who are familiar with that enclave of hippiedom on the northern California coast will know what I am talking about--but it's cleaner and safer.  It's very definitely socialist in its local governance, nothing gets in the way of their Carnaval tradition, and nothing is safe from ridicule during Carnaval.  There is a lively music scene, maybe even more so than in Carcassonne, although I don't have enough information to state that definitively.  I know that there's a very busy visual arts community as well.  It's a nice place to live, I suspect.  Certainly it's a nice place to come for lunch.

The Musee du Piano is still closed, the gardens that I visited in late September will open in two weeks.  Tourist season is getting underway in Limoux.  The Brass Festival takes place at the end of April, and there are several upcoming art exhibits to view.  I am looking forward to spending more time in the Limoux and the Haute Vallee area.

Musee du Piano--still closed

For those who are interested in lunch--I had a glass of rose, which I now prefer to just about any other wine.  I have learned that the best is nearly grey, and I would not have understood that until I saw and tasted it.  There was a composed salad of fresh tomatoes, radishes, cucumbers, hard-boiled egg and, oh dear, 4 anchovy strips.  I had asked them to omit the onions, so I got anchovies instead.  To my credit, I did try a forkful.  I still believe they are an acquired taste.  This was followed by an entrecote (sort of like a very thin rib-eye steak) with pepper sauce, a pile of delicious French fries--they actually tasted like potatoes and not cooking oil.  There was a basket of chewy, crusty baguette.  I confess to having a piece and wanting more, but I refrained.  I declined dessert (my, but aren't I virtuous?) and I finished with a cafe--a little tiny cup of espresso.What a treat! 

Beckoned through the archway

Such a big lunch warranted a long walk to aid in the digestion, so I set off.  About a block from the Place de la Republique, I smelled the most wonderful odor--and I began to follow my nose.  I recognized it as wisteria; the fragrance got stronger as I approached the Sous Prefectire which borders the river.  I walked beneath an archway to discover the source of the perfume--a gnarled, old-vine wisteria framing the doorway of one of the houses overlooking the quai along the river.  It took my breath away.  After spending some time trying to get some "arty" photos, I walked along the Aude for a bit  until it was time to head to the train station and home. 

The source of the perfume

Arty? wisteria

Arch of Pont Vieux echoed in the arches of the tree branches

No, I can't claim to have the same spectacular scenery as Boardman State Park between Brookings and Gold Beach, but this scenery here moves me equally.  I only wish I had a way to convey the smells and tastes of the day.  It was just the cure for my little case of the blues.  

I NEVER ever tire of this view