Castelnaudary Afternoon

Castelnaudary is quiet this noon

I read in the paper earlier this week that President Francois Hollande was going to be in Castelnaudary yesterday, to say a few celebratory words about the 350th anniversary of the Canal du Midi.   Men dug this ditch by hand--and it stretches from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic.  Every time I walk along its banks, I see them with shovels and pickaxes and marvel at their determination and vision. It was the deciding factor when choosing Carcassonne for my sabbatical in 2013.  I try to walk along its banks several times a week.

I also wanted to see the President of France, maybe shake his hand and thank him for doing all he can to keep his country liveable and for welcoming foreigners.  After all, I am one.  I bought a ticket on the noon train, packed my camera and journal and set out for a day of new experiences.

Light comes through banners of the French flag adorning the main street

When I got to Castelnaudary, I was struck by just how quiet it was, how deserted was the main street.  It sure didn't look like the most important political figure in France was due in three hours.  At first glance, the only clue was the row of French flags hanging over the street, tangled among the city's unlit holiday lights  Then it struck me--of course---it's lunch time!  As I headed up toward the Mayor's office where the President was scheduled to pay a visit after his remarks at the boat basin, I began to realize that the streets had been actually barricaded and that, too contributed to the ghost-town atmosphere. 

The iconic white kepi. 

It was also an anniversary of the French Foreign Legions barracks in Castelnaudary.  Legionnaires  had taken up residence in Place de La Republic, next to the big movie house, where the market is normally held on Mondays.  There were military men in all manner of uniforms, from green-faced camouflage to spit and polished brass button khaki. 

Axes and leather miner's aprons--white kepis

I decided to have lunch first--that had been the plan all along, lunch in Castelnaudary, and then photos of the President, poke around town for an hour or two and then hop the train home.  I was hoping to have lunch along the Canal, at Le Cybele, my favorite eatery.  But all of the restaurants along the water were shuttered and closed.  Whether it was due to security or the close of the season, I cannot say.  So I opted for a restaurant across from the Foreign Legion demonstration. 

I guess I stumbled into the restaurant where "important" people were dining, because the place was being guarded by a bodyguard. At first I just thought it was some random guy having a smoke.  But he never left his post and then I saw the earpiece.  What did I know?  I just wanted some lunch.  

Luckily, because I had no reservation, I was able to be seated and I ordered.  As I settled in and looked around me, I saw that most of the men were dressed in suits and ties.  Obviously they were meeting with M. Hollande.  As I got my first course, who should sit down next to me but Jean-Claude Perez, the ex-mayor of Carcassonne, and current Socialist Party candidate.  I recognized him and after our lunch, he will recognize me.

Monsieur Perez and his companion exit the Mairie after meeting the President

I did work up the nerve to introduce myself to him and tell him that I had attended his political rally at Theatre Jean Alary back in 2014.  His eyes lit up when I told him that.  We talked for a little about his upcoming election and the just-held election in the US.  The entire corner of the restaurant groaned when I told him I was from the United States.  I apologized for disturbing his lunch and went on about my business.  At the table across from me, some high ranking Legion officials were dining in full dress regalia--grey with forest green undervests...snowy white shirts, polished brass buttons and snow-white gloves. 

These boys gave an impressive demonstration of physical fitness

I went into the demonstration area where the Legionnaires were showing their stuff.  It used to be, and maybe still is that one sure path to French citizenship was to join the Foreign Legion.  I have romanticized visions of Legionnaires with their kepis in desert locations.  What a load of horse manure!  I am not sure that there ever was anything romantic about the life of a Legionnaire.  

Part of the French Foreign Legion exhibit

I can tell you that the ones I saw and talked to were young, fit and polite.  I asked about the different color of kepis--the white ones are for the newest recruits--I think a man wears that kepi until he's got 7 and a half years of service.   Then they move on to red kepis.  And I didn't see any other color, but the red ones come with various shades and numbers of gold bands and gold braid.  

I can tell you that their uniforms were spotless, not a speck of lint or dirt, even on the ones of the guys who were putting on the martial arts demonstrations.  A group of Legionnaires acted as the honor guard for President Hollande when he entered and exited the Mayor's office.  These Legionnaires did not carry guns--they sported axes!  And leather aprons, many full of medals. 

President Hollande's car

His "head" bodyguard/Secret Service man

M Hollande's hairline.  He is very short! 

Not unexpectedly, we had to wait, longer than anticipated.  The President was late arriving and his business inside the mayor's office took longer than expected.  His entourage was larger than I expected, although probably only a fraction of what a US President brings with him when he visits a small town.  (I think of the Kennedys coming to Mass at Thurmont when they spent time at Camp David, near where I grew up) I felt especially sorry for the elderly lady who'd been standing, waiting longer than I, who kept asking, "C'est lui? C'est lui?--Is it him, is it him?"  Seeing her President obviously meant a great deal to her and I was sorry that M. Hollande could not have made it to our area of the line.  

From the bridge in the gathering twilight

When the show was all over, I didn't have as much time to kill as I thought I would have--only about half an hour to wait for the train home.  I made the stroll to the station a leisurely one, and stopped on the bridge over the Canal to take some photos in the gathering twilight.  Yes, the President of the Republic may have been in town, but the lives of those who live on the Canal were much the same as those hundreds of years ago--a snug boat, a cozy curl of smoke from the chimney, no doubt preparations for dinner.  

It had been a good afternoon, full of color and interesting things to see and interesting people to talk to.  It was nearly dark by the time I boarded the TER, and one of my greatest pleasures in life is to be going home on a train, in the dark, knowing that my own version of that cozy little canal boat is waiting for me.   

A cozy spot to settle into for the evening along the Canal