The Little Yellow Train--Part I

They still have the snowplow on this one

It is very yellow.  It is very little.  I have been wanting to ride on it ever since I learned about it, maybe 2 years ago.  I had a small window of opportunity to take this historic ride, due to my own commitments, upcoming summer season schedule changes, and the SNCF (French Railway) strikes.   They've been striking since April--two days of strike, then three of service and then two days of strike.....it\'s a little bit of a pain.  I carefully planned out my route--and found that I  could indeed leave home, take the trip and return the same day.  It would mean a long day, but it was possible.

I leave home as the sun is making an appearance

Then, the fun began. Even though Tuesday was not technically a strike day, my train home from Perpignan was canceled.  I actually was half expecting this, because strike days often include the last trains out on the eve of the strike. I have had that happen before, mostly to visitors here. (Right Diane and Jerry?  Right Andrew?) So, I quickly scurried, changed my return ticket to the next day and scoured up a hotel room in Perpignan.  I could come home on Wednesday, hopefully in the morning.  

Poppies,galore, often entire fields are carpeted in red

And so, I set off---early on Tuesday morning (a 6:45 train to Narbonne, with a change there to Perpignan.  Once in Perpignan, I would take a 1 Euro regional train to Villefranche de Conflent, the "lower station for the Little Yellow Train." Everything is fully green, and the poppies this year have been magnificent.  Entire fields are covered with red poppy carpets.  

In Perpignan, I hit the first snag.  The train to Villefranche de Conflent wasn't running, but a subhstitute bus would ferry me there.  That was fine with me--I actually kind of like riding the bus.  The problem was that the bus takes longer than does the train, so I missed the first little yellow train, the one I wanted, It is the longer of the routes, going all the way to Latour Carol--the "upper" end-of- the-line station."  I had to settle for a shorter trip, going only as far as Font Romeu.  That's okay and certainly would give me the views I was looking for.

Fort Liberia

Bridge over the Tet, looking upstream

Yep, this is the station for the Yellow Train

 

I subsequently learned, by reading an article that appeared in Wednesday's L'Independant, the local newspaper, that the train I was supposed to take has been out of circulation since December, (and yet still shows up on the timetable, grrr) when there was a horrific accident along the route in Millas, in which the train plowed into a school bus at one of the many at-grade crossings, killing some students, and injuring many others.  The article told that many of the parents have banded together to form an association that is calling for the permanent closure of the line.  As it might be expected, the plan is causing a lot of controversy.  

The Tet, looking downstream

Honey locust blooms (I think) and the Tet dances below

This 1 Euro bus took me through some "suburbs" of Perpignan and then through other towns and villages I had read about in the book Love and War in the Pyrenees.  I am now smitten with Prades, nestled under the watchful eye of Canigou, perhaps the most well-known peak of the mountain chain.  It still has snow on it.  I also fell in love with Ille sur Tet, and Vinca, all of which lie along the Tet River, which is beautiful, especially further up in the mountains, where it runs swift and clear.  There really wasn't a sense of climbing, yet we went from Perpignan, which borders the Mediterranean to Villefranche de  Conflent, at an altitude of about 1000 feet, if you don't count the massive Fort Liberia that looms over it another 1000 feet up.

Fort Liberia

High lookout

Notice some black clouds gathering

The bonus was that I got to explore Villefranche de Conflent and I was immediately smitten.  It has been designated one of the "Most Beautiful Villages in France," and with good reason.  The town is inside a fort--lots of restaurants and some shops.  Everything was immaculate--the streets, the buildings all in great repair, flower boxes sprouting iconic red geraniums, the mountains rising in the background.  It sits on the point of land where the Cady River meets the Tet River, both of which were running swift and clear.  I love that many of the buildings make use of the pinky-orange rock that looks like the exposed rock of the surrounding hills, so there's an organic look to much of the area. 

The town is enclosed by this fort--Tet River on the right

Immaculately cared for streets and buildings

The Cady (on the right)  joins the Tet

I poked around the town for a bit, made a stop in the Tourist Information Office where I asked for lodging information--I had by this time already decided to do this again, but to spend the night here.  I had a late breakfast/early lunch that included one of the best cups of coffee I have ever had.  I treated myself to a local Catalan specialty--bunyette (pronounced boon-yet)--I guess every culture has some version of fried dough, and I don't normally indulge, but I wanted to see what it was like--light, flaky and not too sweet.  

Love these red geraniums

This B & B features local honey

Lots of brick, reminiscent of Toulouse

The weather was threatening--I had seem some dark, ominous clouds massing over the mountains, so after lunch I hightailed it back to the station to get under cover....and just managed to do so before he heavens opened up.  But it was just a local shower and didn't last long.

The mountains tower over the town

Narrow passageways and secret doorways

Portcullis

This one means business!

What??!!  No French???

My local regional specialty--bunyette

It looked for a while like the train was going to be nearly empty, but soon enough a group of older tourists from the UK arrived, butting up in line and making a lot of noise.  Most of the seats were marked reserved, so I was fortunate to snag a ticket.  I think there's a Little |Yellow Train ticket office in the Perpignan station, but I confess to not taking the time to find it when I had the time on Wednesday.  I will do so on my next trip there, which will be sooner rather than later.  

I do not want to complain, really, I don't.  But why would a train that bills itself as a tourist, sight-seeing vehicle put people in train cars that have the windows so covered in graffiti that it is impossible to see what's outside unless you stand the whole trip?  I just do not understand this.....I would have washed the windows for them while I waited if I could have gotten away with it.

How is a sight-seer supposed to actually see out of this window?

Due to the weather (and thankfully, as it did rain along the journey) we were all inside.  During more clement weather, you can sit on benches in open cars.  I want to do that, I think.

We boarded, got our seats, and when the conductor blew a sharp blast on his whistle, the passengers all let out a cheer..  The train has one of those "toy" whistles, like some tugboats, and the conductor made liberal use of it.  After a toot or two, off we set.