Hautpoul--A Medieval Village

Village sign

After lunch in Albi we headed home; our plan was to stop in whatever little hamlet caught our attention.  Jason remembered seeing a sign for a medieval village on the Carcassonne side of Mazamet, just before making the steep climb up into the Black Mountains.  We managed to spot it just in the nick of time and made our way down and then up, up, up a winding, narrow, barely-one-lane road--kind of like a logging road.  

Main Street?

In the other direction

We passed this ruin on the way in

Although we kept our fingers crossed and hoped not to encounter oncoming traffic, we were not lucky.  We did meet an oncoming car with perhaps the most inconsiderate driver ever, who REFUSED to back up to the wide spot where we could have passed.  So we were forced nearly into the side of the mountain--and jackass driver barely squeaked by, our respective side mirrors almost touched.  I thought it would be fun to come up the road on a motorcycle and Mary opted for a horse.  Certainly a tour bus wouldn't dare attempt it!  

Tidy stone cottage with roses

Charming and worth the trouble to get to

The road opened up at the top of the cliff to a statue of the Virgin Mary watching over the entire valley.  A little walk took us into the village, and I use that term in the loosest possible sense.  There are presently maybe 10 houses, some definitely occupied, others shuttered and silent, clinging to the side of a mountain .  The "street" ends at cliffside and the Tavern of Hautpoul.  Stone is the building material of choice, and there is certainly plenty of it.  The houses that still stand have a well-loved feel, even if most are probably only summer residences.

Remnants of older fortification

Down in the valley--a tannery or perhaps a mill on the river

This is a fascinating place.  It has been fought over and besieged, its residents forced to leave.  For the life of me, I cannot understand why.  You practically have to be a goat to get there, and God only knows how hard it had to be to bring in supplies.  It is encapsulated, and the residents could easily adopt a let us alone attitude, and probably did.  I was not one bit surprised to find that Simon de Monfort had his bloody hands on the place.  He was going to get rid of that "nest of heretics."  These Cathar last-stand sites are remote, difficult to access.  Why people can't let others alone is one of the greatest mysteries to me.  God knows I have my hands full just trying to keep my own life on track and there's not anything left over for trying to manage someone else's.

Tempted?

We had a drink of water out on the terrace of the Tavern.  It was run by a little dot of a woman, a twinkle in her eye and a ready laugh.  She confirmed my speculation that the marvelous tree in the "square" up the street was a chestnut--actually a marronier.  It was hosting a nightingale who was singing his heart out.  What a glorious sound!  She also told us that while she doesn't get hordes of tourists, there are those who find their way there as part of the pilgrimage path, especially the San Jacques de Compostelle journey.

Great old chestnut tree in the town square

Statue of Virgin Mary stands vigilant

Jason could not see the allure of living there, but I could.  At least for a period of time to write, to reflect, to soak up the history of this fought-over place. Maybe that way I could get a better understanding of why it was so desirable.

View from the statue's perch to Mazamet below

I am sure these caves also sheltered people who were hunted in the name of religion