Antiques, Roses, Strikes and Friends

Antique baby buggy

Yesterday afternoon I spent some time getting to know a new friend, Shelley, who moved here from, of all places, Portland, Oregon.  Sometimes I think that this spot is one of the places on Earth where the ley lines of engery converge.  People here are connected to one another (and that includes me) in ways that constantly amaze me.  For a place so many people have never heard of, it is a melting pot of people with very few degrees of separation.

Dolls and games

Teddy bears and reflections

Centerpiece of the window

After our glass of wine at Bar Felix, one of the local cornerstone cafes, I headed home for a very late supper.  Truth was that I didn't want to cook, and I really didn't want to mess up my tidy kitchen.  So, I went over to my pizza place and visited with the man who owns it and he fixed my favorite--mushrooms. 

Dolls and marble topped doll furniture

While I was waiting for it to be done, I had my camera with me and wanted to record the wonderful window of the antique shop.  The owner is a real artist.  He recently had all sorts of clothes and hats.  This window's theme is toys.  There are dolls and games and blocks, in all colors, sizes and shapes, all centered around an old carousel horse. 

Politically incorrect now?

What a face!

I am so in awe of the owner's eye and his gift for presentation.  I noted that there was already a "Vendu" (Sold) sign on the carousel horse.  He knows how to stop people on the street and draw them into his shop.  It has been such a delight to watch him get settled in and turn an empty, dusty derelict storefront into a garden of delights.  

Pinocchio and friend

French "Clue"

French doll rides the carousel pony

He will need some TLC

One among many

I had taken some photos earlier in the day of the rose garden that Maire Larrat so skillfully "pushed" through the city's public works to-do list.  Hundreds of roses emit their perfume into the square, and as if they needed help, the crew also planted jasmine to twine and climb the oversized trellis the city built to accommodate the plants. 

Jasmine climbs the trellis

It's easy to forget that all this perfumed flora sits atop a parking garage.  The roses are in beds of one color each, so there are blocks of color and perfume.  I love the new and improved Gambetta.  

The bed of white roses

Statue in front of the art museum surveys her domain.

Speaking of blocks of color, on the way to Pont Rouge yesterday, I spotted a field  so full of red poppies that it appeared to have a solid red blanket covering it.  I did not have my camera with me--I should know better.  I will try to go back on the next sunny day and see if I can't get a photo.  It took my breath away.  That happens a lot here.

Rotarians urge people to donate blood

For kids of all ages

When Shelley and I left Carnot last night to return to our separate homes, we noticed that a tent had been erected.  Something was up....and this morning at the market, the Rotary Club was hosting some activities to draw attention to the blood drive today.  The Rotary Club here is quite active, and often will join forces with other chapters to host events like this.  It just so happened that a few of my Irish band friends had been asked to provide some entertainment.  Here's what they look like in daylight!!

Guy (waves hello) Julie, Romain and I forgot the other lady's name--but she is really a good fiddler

Romain on the harmonica

Julie plays standing on one foot!  Impressive

My brother-in-law asked me yesterday about all the strikes going on in France and if I'd been affected by them.  Here in the Aude we are not suffering any gasoline shortages due to the refineries being blocked, but there are small "manifestations"  (demonstrations) on some days. Yesterday, when I was coming back from Pont Rouge on the bus, the driver stopped at Chenier and announced that this was the "terminus"  (the end) and everyone was to get off.  Normally he would continue to my regular stop, but not this time.  However, we all were in good humor.  It wasn't the driver's fault, so there was no sense in fussing with him.  And as I said to him--It was a gorgeous day and I could use the walk.  I have made that walk a hundred times, so it was no big deal.  It's the south of France; one has to learn to swing with things.....

Evening street in Carcassonne looking toward St. Michel's

And thus you see a typical day in Carcassonne.

Le Dome Pizza

Don't let its size fool you--the pizza is big in taste

We all have our favorite purveyors here in Carcassonne--everyone knows Michel Rabat is the best butcher in town.  M Bimas is the best place to find a lovely dessert or to get chocolates.  Even the Le Fruitier proudly bears the sign Meilleur Ouvrier de France (Best Worker in France).  I am happy to patronize all three establishments.

My favorite pizza place

I don't eat pizza often, maybe once every six or seven weeks. For my money, the best pizza comes from the Kiosque du Dome, conveniently located right around the corner.  It is a tiny  kiosk, like a child's playhouse, maybe 9 feet long and 9 feet wide .  There is enough room for his oven, two counters, a glass front refrigerator that holds some sodas.  There are no seats, and scarcely room for one customer to stand at the counter to place an order.  

The young man who owns this turns out a consistently good pizza. And turn them out he does.  Most of his clients have learned that to be assured of getting fed, they need to call in advance and let him know what time they would like to pick up their pizzas.  It is a pretty efficient system that leads to minimal waste. 

Taking Friday night orders

His crusts are cracker thin, just like I like them. I feel like I can splurge once in a while because it is so thin, and therefore not as carb-laden as some deep dish dough ball from some other establishment.  He cooks the pizzas directly on the oven floor, which can sometimes lead to charring, which only adds to the flavor. One thing is certain--the crust has never been limp or soggy. 

What a personable young man.  He remembered me from my original stay here, two years ago.  He remembers the kind of pizza what I want--mushrooms.  He is unfailingly cheerful, even when he is pulling-his-hair-out busy.  He is one of the hardest working young men I have ever met and I want for all the world to recognize his talent, his dedication to his craft and I want him to succeed.  

Sunny smile

He gets my business, and to all my friends who are contemplating a visit here, be assured one of the places you will definitely be seeing.

Something to keep in mind

Keep the menu simple for success

Priorities and Peonies

Today, the peonies won

Work? Play?  Accomplish something or fritter away the day? Freedom or responsibility?

My market splurge--unabashedly showy

I don't know why I assumed these things would magically sort themselves out once I retired.  I have been chewing on some of my life's more durable fiber these past days, and weeks.  Now that nobody has claims on my time, I am faced with that problem of finding balance.  I especially wrestle with having "want to" activities become "have to" activities.

For so long in my working life, I put things aside.  I'd do them later, when I had time. Now I have time, but need to better manage it. Or manage my expectations.  What I am discovering is that to be any good at some things, like writing, or photography or playing the piano and the dulcimer, it takes work and dedication.  And time.  If I want to get better at the piano I HAVE to practice.  If I want to be a better writer, I HAVE to write. I am not immune to the disease of craving immediate gratification.  

For 99% of my days, I actually look forward to my time spent at the piano and with my pen in hand.  But there are some days that I want to just fritter away the time, wandering through the streets and alleys, sitting at cafes talking to strangers, or taking a nap.  

I already had flowers; I needed vegetables, not peonies

I seem to be having a run of "those days."  Tuesday, I walked down to the market because I needed vegetables.  I bought peonies.

There's another market tomorrow.  Peonies are here for only a little while.

I wish getting my other priorities aligned were so easy.

My Christmas cactus is growing in her new pot--just like I am doing

Trebes

The "port" of Trebes

Today felt like summer, and I can more easily see in my mind's eye what it is going to feel, smell and sound like.  The heat was welcome after the wintry day earlier this week, but the 20 degrees cooler inside my building was also welcome after having spent a great deal of the morning and early afternoon outside.

The lock keeper's "office"

I finally made my way to Trebes, a little town east of Carcassonne.  It's a pretty good deal, since it's in the Carcassonne bus system, and I can get there and back for a Euro each way.  (I do have to look into the business of getting a senior pass--then I can ride for free!)  It takes about 20 minutes to get there and involves some highway travel, which felt a little odd.  I haven't been on highways for a long stretch of time now. 

One of the little public spaces that dot the town

Forlorn shutters

Colorful flowerpots cling to the doorframe

Trebes claim to fame is its location on the Canal and the Aude.  I found it to be hillier than I had expected..  Friends who''d been there had told me that it "wasn't much," and in some ways, I have to agree with them.  It has a feel to it of being by-passed:  by time, by prosperity, by the great gobs of tourists that are beginning to clog the streets in Carcassonne.  There is a little waterfront, or port as they refer to it, with a string of cafes and the tourist information center along the water, and there is a double lock on the Canal as one heads toward Narbonne.  There is also a lovely restaurant on the premises of the locks; apparently there once was a windmill located there, but I couldn't find any traces of it.

Interesting roofline decor

I was struck by how run-down many of the buildings were.  I got the impression that there just wasn't enough tourist business to lure the money away from the Canal--the boat rentals and the outdoor cafes were busy.  It felt like all the money, all the commerce in Trebes was found on the Canal.  LeBoat operates a rental outlet in Trebes---Brits with money come through on their boats en route to somewhere else.  I could certainly see how locals might come to resent all this perceived money motoring by, leaving them on the outside looking in.  Maybe Trebes just doesn't have any attractions to develop and entice tourists to stay and stimulate the economy.  I have to confess that I am harboring a growing dislike of them:  they motor by with their music blaring, disturbing the peace with their engines and shouted directions to stay off the walls of the locks.  The boats are oversized and a little ostentatious, gleaming white under the May sun.  I don't have the same reaction to the wooden peniches that tie up along the banks--they are more unassuming and more authentic.  I will have to work on my attitude, I suppose.  I hope my belief that these people contribute to the local economy is backed up with data, otherwise I would be hard-pressed to find any redeeming qualities in these boats and those who noisily operate them. 

Decorated wine barrels

L

Love the paint decoration

And yet, I found plenty to catch my eye and amuse myself for the larger part of the day.  I went exploring through the narrow streets, and spent some time in the tourist information center.  They are hosting an exhibit of decorated wine barrels and wine presentation boxes, some of which were for sale.  There was also a model of the town; maybe to scale, I can't be sure.  However, the business that produces olive oil and local olive products was closed, as was the church. I discovered an amazingly accurate sundial on the side of a building, and some cryptic letters and numbers carved over the doorway of another house. I found a street near the church so narrow that I could almost touch the buildings on both sides if I stood with my arms outstretched.  I nearly was struck on the bridge over the Aude by a car traveling too fast, but no harm was done.  I watched the lock keeper at his work and had a brief smile when I thought of putting lock keeper as one's profession on a resume in the United States.  I found a Portugese grocery store that I didn't have time to visit; I  will save that for next time.. 

What does this mean?

Model of the town in the Tourist Info center

Accurate, too!

The Aude, looking downstream

The Aude--looking upstream toward Carcassonne

I walked along the canal, which I love to do.  I splurged on lunch at the Moulin--the restaurant at the lock where the windmill was located.  The chef sent everyone a tasting--cold cod with a white garlic sauce.  I did try it, loved the sauce, but hot or cold, cod is not for me!  I had a glass of rose and a hot lunch of roasted guinea fowl, peas with arugula and onions, and scalloped potatoes.  I cleaned my plate.  I am really enjoying the guinea fowl--I remember neighbors raising them when I was growing up, but I wonder if anyone still does that.  Thee couple at the table next to mine arrived with their black and white dog on a leash.  He was sweet and well behaved and gave me a great smile!

Dining outside at Le Moulin

Vineyard and orchards border the Canal at this spot

Lovely, graceful gate

The surrounding countryside still manages to take my breath away.  All is green and in flower from recent rains.  I am enjoying springtime in the Aude.  I will definitely go back to Trebes and I still have the goal of walking back to Carcassonne along the canal.  It's not so far, not really. But I will go on a weekday, Trebes is not worth giving up market day again!

Sweet lunch companion

Lovely spot, good food, excellent company

Pentecost Monday

Lone poppy along the side of the road

It's hard to forget that I now live in a very Catholic country.  Everything was closed last week for Ascension Day and everything was closed today for Pentecost Monday.  I had planned to take the bus to Trebes and then walk home along the Canal du Midi.  The religious holiday threw a monkey wrench into those plans.

Why are the stop signs in English and not in French?

Barges "parked" at the Saint John lock

After taking care of Monday chores, which were lightened considerably by having accomplished many of them over the weekend, I planned to catch the 12:05 bus.  However, I missed it...by what I thought was a nose.  It turned out that I hadn't missed it after all--buses weren't running today.  So, I went to plan B--a 90 minute walk along the canal for as far as I could get and then turn around and walk home.  It is a beautiful day, although a bit windy, but what else is new?  

Lock at Saint Jean

The canal always disappoints me with its murky green color.  Not having any real source other than rain water, it gets full of organic matter very quickly.  But the flora and fauna along the banks don't seem to mind.  I noticed that there is considerably more boat traffic than I have ever seen.  There should be some test measuring consideration for others before certain people should be allowed to rent a boat and navigate the peaceful countryside.  Why, when being on the water can be so calming, do people feel the need to share their rock/rap/hip hop racket with everyone else?  I don't have a problem with music, the problem I have is seeking quiet and being forced to encounter someone else's noise.  So inconsiderate.  People like that ONE particular boatful of pale skinned revelers give all water-way tourists a bad name.  I don't understand why people seek out "nature" and then proceed to pollute it--with noise, with trash, with the odors of diesel or gasoline.  They ruin it for everyone, and then leave their messes for the "locals" to clean up.

Peering out from the railroad bridge in Carcassonne

Sorry for the rant, I don't want to spoil what was a lovely day.  I walked all the way to the Saint Jean lock, and decided that in order to not get blisters, I should turn around and come home.  Nearly 3 kilometers each way.  As usual, the trip back seemed shorter.  I was on familiar ground.  

Platane trees have been replaced by cedars

One of the tour boats returns to Carcassonne

Fishermen, young and old, were trying their luck near Carcassonne.  Wild flowers were blooming all along the banks, I stumbled on a duck couple protecting their nest.  I saw some wonderful old houses lining the banks of the canal, and waved to unresponsive passengers on one of the boats offering tours.  I took a little longer coming home, as I stopped for lots of photos, yielding mixed results.

Wildlflowers running riot

It was perhaps a good thing that I "missed" the bus.  After some further research, I learned that it is 14 kilometers from Trebes to Carcassonne.  I need to work up to that distance and make sure the skin on my feet is tough enough to not blister.  Today I walked 6 without incident.  I should be ready for longer jaunts by the end of the month.  I am not in the least concerned with time--I get too distracted by the things I see along the way.  It is the journey, not the destination nor the speed that matters, right?

Poppies line the edge of this field