Curiosities of Carcassonne

There's a new exhibit at the Art Museum on display right now---Collections and Curiosities of Carcassonne.  I took some time on this sunny, very brisk morning to go and see what it is all about.

I wasn't disappointed.  There was a little something to pique almost eveyrone's curiosity, I think: weapons, photographs, porcelain, carved coconuts and tobacco containers carved from wood.

decorated Saracen helmet

Wooden crossbow

Oh OUCH!

Steel and gold

I will let the photos speak for themselves.  Some thoughts as I was looking at things....how interesting that they took the time to decorate, elaborately, the weapons they would use to kill another person.  Some of the axes were stunning--steel and gold, even.  I was impressed with the decoration of the Saracen helmets--they are beautiful as are their little round shields.  

Frontal view of helmet

Tiny little legs

I really liked the collection of official weights for the City of Carcassonne--to make sure that nobody was cheating on the weight of what they were selling.  The collection of carved coconut shells, especially the head, even if my photo didn't turn out all that great, made me wonder--- from where did coconut shells come?

Carved coconut head

Carved container for gunpowder

What were these used for?

Tobacco--I'll bet it was snuff--boxes

 I was a little disappointed that there wasn't more porcelain.  I covet almost nothing in my life but would surely love to have one of those original photographs of the Cite before its walls were restored.  The arrows were smaller and thinner than I had imagined, and look at the size of the leg protector---and people laugh at me when I say I feel like a giant next to these southern French people,but...the leg protector is scarcely bigger than my hand!

Little trowel

Trowel to place the first stone of the Carcassonne bridge  May 1, 1841

The trowel used ot lay the first stone on the 1841 bridge is so small.  At that rate, the bridge would still be under construction.

And while I did enjoy the museum offering, I was equally fascinated  by watching the city workers prune the platane trees along Jean Jaures.  I am so lucky to be living in so interesting a city.

I don't know what this piece of glass is, but it is lovely

A lot of the local people won't ever bother to go and see this exhibit, which is a shame.  I plan to go back and drag a couple of my friends along with me.

Porcelain canisters

Beziers--History

Church of the Madeleine

Off then to the serious sightseeing of the day--the two main churches of the city:  The Madeline Church and the Cathedral.  The first is more Romanesque, and has the saddest history.  The short version--on the Feast Day of Mary Magdalene, July 1209, the Crusader Army of mostly northern nobles slaughtered everyone who had taken refuge inside the Church of Mary Magdalen in Beziers.  It was all part of the butchery of the day in which 20,000 people--men, women and children were massacred by the Crusaders on the orders of the Archbishop, who when asked what they should do about the Catholics who'd been caught in the drag-net, replied, "Kill them all; God will know His own."  I have no words. 

Interior

Lovely blues in this window behind the altar

The church was deserted; Susan and I were the only people in the building except for two others who were behind the altar doing some work.  I noticed brand new pews and seats. Unlike so many churches in the States, the pews and seats here, and even the kneelers, are NOT padded. I guess they don't want people getting too comfortable in the presence of such power and wealth.   Like so many of these old Catholic churches and cathedrals, it was sort of dark.  Windows to admit light are small and high up on the walls.  There was a stained glass window with lovely blues in the wall behind the altar.  The floors are slate--dark and cold and very hard on the knees.  There were a number of paintings of biblical scenes, but it was so dark in there that they were not easy to view.  Every time I go inside one of these edifices, I think about the cost to heat and illuminate them.  It must be prohibitive.

Faded paintings high up on the interior wall

Wonderful artificial iron tree with glass leaves in the Cathedral square

On then, to the Cathedral.  Saint Nazaire is its patron saint, just as in Carcassonne.  It sits high on a butte, like the Acropolis does in Athens.  It overlooks the Orb River and the farmland stretching out to the south and west.  I would go to Beziers just for this view.  It was smoky on this particular afternoon.  I will bet that on a clear day, the snow-caps of the Pyrenees are visible.  Again, I was struck by how few people were there.  We went inside and I was overwhelmed by the marble and the carvings behind the altar.  The rose window above the organ looked to have orange panes, but when I zoomed in for a closer look, I found it to be much more complex.  The architecture looks to be a mix of Gothic and Roman and there feels like some Saracen influences, too.  I am sure that the Cathedral is worthy of an entire day of study, and that may be in the cards this spring.  

Cathedral looking from the river-side

Bell announces the hour

A train in the middle ground--the valley beyond the Orb River

A smoky afternoon overlooking the river

I freely admit that my experience with cities in southern France is limited, but Bezierd felt Spanish to me in a way that neither Carcassonne nor Montpellier feel.  It reminded me for all the world like the old quarter in Barcelona.  I saw several shops catering to Russian goods--I will have to do some research to see the reasons for that.  On the way back to the train station we passed through an obvious Muslim neighborhood--a market on one corner was definitely run by Muslim men and the clients were mostly all women wearing the hijab.  And they had the most amazing produce; I wish I had bought some of those light green-white zucchini!

This appears like a solid yellow pane from the floor below

The center pane of the rose window above the organ

We walked through clumps of teenage boys gathered on the street corners--some things are universal.  These boys were polite and chatty and readily engaged in conversation.  We obviously were tourists, one of whom was carrying an armful of daffodils.  Our heads were uncovered, so we were obviously not Muslim women...they had nothing to lose by trying to engage us in conversation.  And I never object to those kids, anyhow, even when they ask for money  (these kids did not)  I worked in a middle school--street corner boys don't scare me!

The train ride home seemed short, even with a train change in---Narbonne.  Susan informed me that we'd logged 10,000 steps.  My stomach was still full from lunch.  It was a good day, indeed.

Saint Denis, carrying his head

Beziers Color

One of the flower market vendors

Love this color

Ever since coming here, I have wanted to see the Friday flower market in Beziers.  I can't believe that it has taken me so long to get there, but I finally managed it yesterday.  I wanted to see not only the flower market, but I wanted to pay a visit to the Office of Tourism to get some information about a visit to the bell foundry and museum in Herepian, a village a little to the north of Beziers.  And while in Beziers, of course there is always a new lunch adventure and I wanted to see the Church of the Magdalene.  It was enough to fill a day without running myself ragged, and I am all in favor of that.

Ready to go into the ground

I think this is almond, but am not sure

So, off we went, my friend Susan and I, on the 10:11 train from Carcassonne to Beziers, with a brief stop and train change in Narbonne.  I think Narbonne is like the Atlanta airport--no matter where you are going, you have to change in Narbonne.  Normally I like to leave earlier and come home earlier, but I am trying to be more flexible.  We were due home on the 5:36 train out of Beziers, with a change--you guessed it--in Narbonne.

Welcome to Beziers

Park right across the street from the station's front door

My first impressions of Beziers shouldn't count.  With hardly an exception, the area immediately surrounding a train station has a certain grittiness to it and it's not fair to judge the entire city by the train station.  There was a gilt-edged gate right across the street--the entrance to the park of the Plateau des Poetes....with a statue of an angel who seems to be checking to see if her deodorant has worn off.  But the rest of the area was predictably gritty.

Did my deodorant wear off/

The climb is pretty steep from the bottom of the hill, where the train arrives, to the top, where the old city is located.  There were numerous large public works projects underway--one of the main squares was torn to hell and gone.  We were in search of the flower market, on Allees Paul Riquet, and it might have been easier to find were it not for all the barriers placed in the constructions zones.  Or if one of us had actually had a map!

Row upon row of ranunculus--big as softballs

Mimosa yellow

Forsythia yellos

But really, there wasn't any getting lost--the town is just not that large.  It is a little confusing because there are not a lot of "cross streets."  The city feels like a circulade--the streets going in sort of circles with openings out into public plazas every few blocks. In old-town, the streets are much narrower than the ones here in the Bastide.  But what struck me most forcefully was how deserted the town was.  Street after street was empty, shuttered and silent.  Even the area around the post office, which is Carcassonne is always buusy, had maybe only a dozen people coming and going.

Tempting African violets

We did get to the flower market, and after an underwhelming start, it became more interesting and colorful.  Tray after tray of pristine primroses burst with color.  The end where we started our walk through contained mostly live plants for outdoor gardens.  There were plenty of fruit trees, and forsythia, olive trees ready for planting.  Flats of plants with bronze and dark leaves added color and interest.

A trayful of violas

Snapdragons--one of my favorites

Then we came upon the cut flowers--roses of all colors.  Tables full of tulips of all sizes and colors...I wanted to take home an armful, but not enough to carry them around all day.  I was able to maintain my resolve until I came across the daffodils.  I just had to have some.  I was going to come back and buy them but the vendor said they might not be here and she would hold them.  I didn't want to have to carry them around all day.

My bouquet of jonquils--tables around the market and Galleries Lafayette just over my left shoulder

There are lots of brasseries and restaurants that border the Allees Paul Riquet so we went in search of lunch.  We ended up in a little Italian themed place.  Lasagna for me and pizza for Susan, each of us having a glass of house red.  Dessert for her, coffee for me.  It was delicious, warm, and filling.  Could not have asked for more, except maybe an outdoor table.  Some intrepid diners were taking advantage of the sunshine, even if it seemed a little on the chilly side.

After lunch we had a quick swing through Galleries Lafayette--I was in search of Maison, and Susan in search of a new winter coat.  Both of us came away empty-handed.  But it was fun to look.

I picked up my daffodils and had a delightful chat with the women who were there.  One of the things I love most is the way by-standers join right into the conversations.  When I told them that jonquils were the flowers of my childhood and reminded me of my grandmother, they told me that the Fete du Grandmeres is next weekend and the emblematic flower is--jonquils.  It was such a pleasant exchange.

We then proceeded to the Tourist Information Office, which was only about 3 blocks away.  I wanted to gather any brochures from tour companies who offer vans and will take tourists out to vineyards or to smaller towns not served by the train.  We have a couple of companies here in Carcassonne that provide such a service, surely there must be similar enterprises in Beziers.  Again, i came away empty-handed as far as company advertising brochures went, but with an armload of information provided by the ladies at the Tourism Office.  They printed off the bus schedules to take me not only to Pezenas but all the way to Herepian.  They pointed me in the direction of the gare routiere, the local bus station.  I might just take a moment to say that riding the bus here doesn't carry the stigma that riding the bus in the US brings with it.  Not everyone here has a car--they are expensive to operate and insure, impossible to park and with such good public transportation, not really necessary. 

So I now have all the information I need now for a day trip to check out the bells before my guests arrive later in the year.  The women in the Tourist Office were eager to share information about all of the activities humming in Beziers during tourist season--there's a section of the Plateau des Poetes that holds dances from the turn of the century...like the dances on the boats here or in Paris used to be held.  Think of Renoir's famous painting of the dance at the windmill.....I am definitely going to Beziers to see that!

My jonquils at home

I can't stop smiling

None of My Beeswax

Beeswaxed wooded bowl and table top

As a reward today for some sustained work on the translation, I gave myself permission to attack the antique table I bought nearly a year ago with the beeswax polish I bought nearly a year ago.  Funny, how things got away from me, hmm?

I have never used beeswax before, but everyone told me that it was really good for wood.  This antique table was constantly looking dry, probably because it was dry.  I have read articles that tell me there's not a way to really moisturize the wood; it needs to be refinished.   Others say slather on mayonnaise---Hellmans, perhaps?

This table top shines now, for the first time

So, out came the beeswax.  I guess I've read too many English manor-house novels, but it seems that the in the finest houses, the furniture is always being waxed or polished.  So, I thought, "Why not?"

Well, I soon learned why not---this is HARD work!  The wax doesn't polish easily, or at least it didn't in this case. (Maybe because the table was so dry?)  I thought my arms were going to fall off!  And nothing I tried could get the wax out of the crevices of the scalloped edges, and worse, out of all the nicks, cracks, and worm holes that come with antique wood.  Finally I remembered the seafood picks--worked like a charm. 

I understand now, the wonder and joy with which we greeted Pledge in the late 1950's!!!  It took an hour, not counting the time I had to let the wax dry, to get it buffed out to a shine.  The shelf with the French equivalent of Pledge took 15 seconds....

Sorry, did only the top surface, not the legs or bottom shelf  They got the Pledge

I do like look of the finish of the piece I waxed, but am not sure that it's worth it for the rest of the pieces I had in mind when I bought the can of wax.....I am not sure my arms are equal to the task.  And so, for now, no more beeswax and back to the translation.

A Snowy Start

A dusting on the roofs this morning

There's a certain silence that snowfall brings with it.  Unless there's a howling wind, the flakes fall noiselessly and muffle all other sounds.  I heard that, or maybe--felt that---in the wee hours of the morning.  I suspected snow was falling, but I was too warm in my nest to get out of bed and actually look.

The flat roof down the street and my neighbor's grill

So I was not surprised, when I did get up around 7:30, to see the roofs along the street wearing an under-slip of white.  There were a few errant flakes blowing about, but the sun was pushing its way through the clouds.  Whatever snow there was wouldn't last long.  So I grabbed the camera, even before grabbing a cup of freshly made coffee.

Care package from the States

                         I did have to go out, and I knew it would be chilly.  I needed to go to the post office to retrieve a package and I needed to swing by my favorite market vendor to get some eggs.  I bundled up in layers--I no longer own a heavy winter coat, and find that on the rare occasions that I do have to go out in the cold, the layering process works well enough.  

My package was a delightful surprise---who knew I would be so thrilled to see Jell-O?  I can feel that grated carrot--sunshine salad coming on.   Or a can of Libby;s pumpkin?  I am torn between making a pie right now or saving it "for a special occasion."  I do know that at a cost of over $63 to ship it here, I should find some edible gold to sprinkle on both the Jell-O and the pie!

Batch of Morning Glories

I remember always baking on days back on the East Coast when we would be snowed in--cinnamon rolls or brownies or cookies of some sort.  Hot chocolate, cribbage games,and steamed over windows celebrated the day. I won't  have that, and I am not exactly snowed in, but having completed my outdoor errands, I can enjoy the rest of the day in my snug and warm apartment.  Most of the Morning Glories are in the freezer, but there are one or two left for a cup of tea this afternoon.  There is leftover chicken and the last cheese blintz in the fridge, so I am snug, and content.  

Last of the cheese blintzes--for lunch, perhaps