Southern Countryside

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Central courtyard of the Abbaye Fontfroide

Betty and I were invited to join John and Catherine on an outing to the eastern part of the Aude yesterday.  They'd rented a car for their week here and kindly asked us to go with them.  We had lunch reservations at Abbaye Fontfroide, and enough time for a trip through the abbey and its

wonderful gardens.

Perfect weather for Fontfroide

John's GPS trumped my paper map, and he programmed in the "eco" route, which made this back-roads kind of girl really happy.  I like being able to see the little hamlets and towns bypassed by the bigger and faster auto-routes.  Yes, it takes a little longer, but the unexpected discoveries are worth it.  Besides, we are in the south of France; what's the hurry?

The Abbaye is impressive and full of history.  I look at those buildings in amazement--all of those stones, in the buildings, in the walls, on the streets, were carried and laid by human hands.  And there is no shortage of rocks in the area. 

John and Catherine ponder the scents while Betty looks on

The tour involves all the senses, especially in the herb gardens.   The Abbaye produces its own wine, and invites the public to test their "noses."  They've set up a "smelling tube" station.  Uncork the end of a stainless steel tube, take a sniff and see if you can identify the scent.  I managed to get only one--vanilla.  I guess a career as a sommelier is not in my future!

Betty and John debate the merits of a tablet

Betty and Catherine and their audio guides

There are things to listen to as well, for those who don't want to take the guided tour.  Catherine and Betty opted for the tablets and audio guides, while John and I didn't want any encumbrances. In my own defense, I have been there before and have taken the tour.  This time I wanted to simply "be."

At the start of the tour, we met a woman, in medieval costume,at her spinning wheel.  She looked right at home among looms. carding devices, wool and some finished garments.  Woman's work indeed, was (and is) never done. 

Woman at her spinning wheel

Lunch

Lunch was both delicious and convivial.  We ordered (and drank) a bottle of white wine that paired well with my foie gras salad, Betty's scallop ravioli, and Catherine's fish.  Since John was driving, he refrained.  After lunch, we headed back to the gardens, climbing to the bee garden (the bees were all out at the white lavender busily gathering the nectar to bring back to the hives), and the "Sorceress Garden" (for women only).  I could spend the whole day in these gardens--the espaliered trees, the medicinal plants, the white lavender, the beautiful roses and the persimmon trees fascinate me.  I managed to record a video of the singing insects--the sounds of summer. 

White lavender

Welcome to Termes

From Abbaye Fontfroide, we drove to Termes which, although it feels like it's in the mountains, is at only about 1000 feet of elevation.  We parked and made our way to Cafe Milo for coffee, tea and a long chat with the waitress.  She informed us that the population of Termes is 21, but swells to 31 in the summer.  (Reminded me of Agness! only it's older and more picturesque) One of the local clients brought her dog, Yo-Yo to play fetch and have his ears scratched by adoring customers.  

Yo-Yo

After being duly refreshed, we meandered through the winding, narrow Termes streets, stopping at nearly every turn for a photo opportunity. The church was particularly interesting, as it's a stop on the Saint Jacques de Campostelle walk.  The street signs were in Occitan, not French.  

Gite for sale

There are two houses for sale, and we are consumed with curiosity about the price. We debated the merits and disadvantages of living in so remote an area. Some local children were having a tea party in the middle of the street and others climbed up and down the back alleys (where it would be impossible to bring cars) I pondered what a childhood in Termes would be like and how it would shape a child's personality.   I was shocked to learn that some of the locals commuted to Carcassonne to work; the waitress assured us that it was only a 40 minute commute.  (Note: it was much longer, but maybe because we took the "eco" route.) 

Termes hide-away

The day was full and after we got back to #34, we continued our day together with a bottle of Cremat de Limoux and aperos.  (It's amazing what kind of a meal we can produce on no notice)  Finally, fatigue forced Betty and me back to our own quarters and into our nests.  It was a superb day on so many levels, but most of all, because of the camaraderie.  I am indeed blessed to have such friends.

Heat and House Guest

Main square Toulouse

Summer heat has paid a visit to le Grand Sud....it was 97 degrees yesterday.  We've been trying to keep cool, shuttering the apartment against the sun, drinking gallons of water, not moving around very much.  While the building collects and holds the heat, the benefit of warm summer evenings is being able to go outside and commune with the other Carcassonnaises. 

Betty arrives

More exciting is the arrival of my friend Betty from the US.  I took the train to Toulouse on Friday to meet her at the airport and bring her back home.  Toulouse was a little cooler and less humid than was Carcassonne, and surprisingly uncrowded for a major tourist city.  I spent a little time down in the old city and then was off to the airport to meet Betty. I ran into a wedding in the park, a man walking down the street in a kilt, pleats a-swinging, and a French flag made of three solid color t-shirts hanging from a balcony. 

Toulouse carousel

Toulouse is famous for its brick building

She is exhibiting fewer symptoms of jet lag than I ever have after that trip from the west coast of the US.  It's a hard trip and made a little more difficult in such heat as we've had.  Nonetheless, we were off early to Saturday market to buy vegetables for soup, some cheese from the cows of the Pyrenees, some flowers--all the essentials for daily life here.  We took a little late evening stroll in Gambetta which at 10:30 P.M. was still filled with delighted children playing in the fountain. 

First Carcassonne breakfast

Yesterday, in search of air conditioning, we went to the movies.  I had heard marvelous things about the movie Dans le Foret de Siberie (In the Forest of Siberia).  It was the perfect movie for Betty--very little dialogue, French subtitles for the Russian conversations, some English.  It was so well acted and filmed that while a non-French speaker might miss some of the subtleties, she understood and appreciated what was unfolding on the screen.  It is a film worth seeing and I hope it comes to the US.  Don't miss it.  Our search for air conditioning, however was in vain. We had to rely on the power of suggestion, looking at all that frozen landscape, to cool down.

After the movie, we stopped in Place Carnot to assess the chances of getting a seat at La Casa, who'd put out extra tables and chairs and had opened up their walls to allow a glimpse of their big screen TV.  It was the final of the Euro Cup soccer match.  France vs Portugal.  We decided that there was too much noise to stay there, so we went around the corner to a little cafe on Place Carnot and had some dinner.  Some friends happened by and joined us for a glass of wine.  The food was okay, the service was the worst I have ever had, ever, anywhere.  But the air was sweet and soft, we were cooled by breezes, the company was warm--the heat seemed to dissipate.  Or at least it was less oppressive. 

The headlines in yesterday's La Depeche read, "Day of Glory."  That turned out not to be the case.

Evening lights from Pont Vieux

I had rubbed a blister  hurrying to make the train to Toulouse, so in a way the present heat wave has been a blessing, forcing me to allow it to heal.  I am well on the road to good walking once again.  Today will be a day for much needed housekeeping chores--laundry, a bus ride to the big store for paper products.  Maybe I will finally get the floors washed, with Betty here to motivate me.  

The heat wave is scheduled to depart today.  Happily, my house guest stays!

Limoux Afternoon

I never, never tire of this view

I took a little afternoon jaunt to Limoux with my friend Shelley and her guest from the US, Julia.  It was the first time either had the pleasure of the 1 Euro train--what a treasure we have in that regional transport.  

Julia and Shelley

Handsome guy looking for lunch in the Aude

We got a rather late start, but got there in time for the end of lunch service.  It was a bit cooler in Limoux than it was when we left Carcassonne, where it had been spitting rain (warm) all morning.  I had had my own encounter with my bank, trying to get my new account card to work.  Let's just say that the machine keeps your card if it thinks you are too dense to get the PIN right after the third try.  So an afternoon in Limoux was much preferable to more negotiations with the bank.  

Shelley and her new friend (between the chairs)

Pots of petunias high off the ground

Flower pots on the lampposts on the old bridge

We were surprised by a field of sunflowers just this side of the Flassian station.  I was on the wrong side of the train going, but managed to get a seat coming back which could give me a chance at a photo.  I have never before seen an entire field of sunflowers, all their heads aligned toward the sun.  The French word for sunflower is "tournesol" --turn to the sun. 

Field of sunflowers

Lunch was outside, of course, and with dogs, of course, and delicious, of course.  We all had salads, light but satisfying.  I am managing to decline the bread, and the dessert.  Maybe some of the habits of French women are starting to rub off on me.  

My favorite house in Limoux

Afterward, we visited the wine store that sells Shelley's favorite Cremant de Limoux and she came away with several bottles.  Then we set off for Saint Martin's church (closed)  and the Piano Museum.  I have tried on about 8 occasions to get in to see this exhibit and on every visit, the place has been closed.  I am batting a thousand, because, guess what?? They are closed on Tuesdays.  So, we set off on a little exploration of the town. Just up the street from the eternally locked Piano Museum, we chanced upon the Church of the Assumption.  In all the visits to Limoux, I have never even seen this church, much less entered it.  It was open and we climbed up and went in.

Center dome's stained glass

Charming painting in the Church of the Assumption

Interesting red Neo-Romanesque ceiling

What a lovely church!  Light-filled.  The sacristan was there and very graciously answered my questions and explained the very unusual ceiling.  He was charming and justifiably, very proud of his building.  Julia was able to explain a little about the placement of such things as the confessional and the baptismal font, which are placed differently in most Catholic churches.  

A very purple truck and a very big bottle

We meandered through the back streets of Limoux, crossing the new bridge, gazing into the Aude, enjoying hundreds of flowers, peering into shop windows.  I took her to Merilee's shop/atelier where Shelley got some ideas for an art project to decorate the walls of her new house here in Carcassonne.  I promised that if she wanted to come to Merilee's Tuesday Crafternoons, I would come with her, although my artistic ability leans more toward slinging and slopping paint all over myself as opposed to producing anything I would hang on my own wall!

Pierrot topiary

We encountered some interesting sights as we worked our way back to the train station:  a purple car with an oversized wine bottle in the back; a topiary shaped like a Pierrot, in honor of Limoux's longest-running and oldest Carnaval; my "hanging" tree leafed out and looking almost normal.  

I had a lovely afternoon, enjoying new friends, good food, interesting sights and I actually got some photographs I didn't need to delete immediately.  I did manage to get a frantic snapshot of the field of sunflowers on the way home.  For a while, I was able to forget about the issues with the bank card, the mountain of chores waiting for me at home, the un-written blog, the un-run errands, the un-practiced piano.  A good day!

"Dead" tree is leafed out

News and New to Me

Sorry, no photos today.  The news coming from France is that plastic bags are BANNED as of tomorrow!!!  I have seen the bigger supermarkets preparing for this for some time now--not even offering plastic bags for sale.  I have finally learned to take my bag with me when I go to the market, but I will miss the plastic ones (that I got from the vendors at the open air markets) for my peelings and other food scraps to take to the bin at the end of the street.  I will find another way to deal with that.  I am so happy that France is leading the way in getting rid of this blight.

Nighttime view from my living room window

Other news:  everyone is excited about the quarter-final soccer match this coming Sunday evening.  France is playing Iceland, who so courteously eliminated Great Britain from the tournament.  The big Festival is upon us and will begin on Friday as well--music and dancing everywhere throughout the city.  

And in the news to me department: 

I had a completely new experience last night--I was a passenger in a right side driver car.  After 50+ years of driving in the US, I cannot begin to express how weird it felt to get into the normal "driver's" side only to have no steering wheel in front of me.  The world tilted for just a second.  

I visited the home in Villeneuve Minervois of my Irish concertina-playing friends for a "slow session" of Irish music learning.  What I don't know would fill an ocean.  But  I have stumbled onto world class teachers and I hope I am worthy of their time and effort.  It's not easy for this old girl to learn new musical tricks, especially when they fly in the face of all I have known and practiced for the past 35 years....

Latest Bar 98 session

I have an American/Irish couple coming for dinner on July 4--burgers, potato salad, watermelon and maybe sparklers are on the menu. I will spend Tuesday with my friend from Pittsburgh and her visiting friends from the US. Wednesday is an all-day traditional music event up in La Cite--my Irish musician friends will be there and in the evening, there will be another traditional dance.  And on Friday, I venture to Toulouse to fetch my friend Betty.  Busy times are ahead.

PS--I changed my mind about the photos.

Time Marching

Longest daylight day--la Cite catches the last rays of the day

I had thought retirement might be quieter than this.  The week has been filled with events, great and small.  I sometimes am filled with a mild nostalgia because the change of seasons is so much more delineated here than it was for me in Brookings.  There are four distinct seasons here, and each brings its own light, and crops and rhythms.  

We reached our planet's tipping point.  The longest daylight filled day of the year has come and gone.  We marked it with our street party, staying our late because the light generously stayed with us.  But I am always just a little triste (sad) on that day of the year, knowing the days will grow darker from now until December.  

After last weekend's chill, we have moved into the warmth of summer.  I am learning to use the shutters to block out the heat of the day while keeping the windows open to catch the stray breezes.   We enjoyed a thunderstorm--hail fell, hard and loud on the terra cotta roofs.  Some bounced through the living room windows and landed on the sofa, where it melted.  I thoroughly enjoyed the light show and the relief from the humidity it brought.

repotted gardenia has taken root and has blooms

I now have a French bank account and thus am one more step forward in putting down roots.  My plants have developed their root systems in their new pots and are growing and healthy.  My gardenia has two blooms and more buds.  

There is a sense of an ending at the market.  I think the asparagus is about over, as are the cherries.  The prices are at bargain levels--never did I think I would see Ranier cherries for under $3 a pound. The fresh peas of spring are disappearing. I suspect I bought the last of the peonies--deep red ones and showy white blooms.  I so loved the spring here this year, even the wind that came with it.

One little bloom perfumes the entire room

But now we have peaches, and nectarines, and apricots and watermelon.  My basil plant has already given me enough for vegetable lasagna and a cold cucumber-basil soup.   It's summer bounty I see in the market now.  Before I realize it, we will be harvesting grapes, and fall vegetables will be popping up.

Last peonies of the season

July is upon us. It is the high tourist time in Carcassonne--the city has concerts planned nearly every day.  There are big "names" coming to the amphitheater in La Cite, and free pocket concerts in parks here in the Bastide.  Neighbors are grilling; nearly every evening I can smell food being cooked over an outdoor fire.  I wonder if they have lightning bugs here.  My arms are proof that there are mosquitoes.

All of this feeling of "rightness" has been tempered this week by two things.  First, I have had some stunning news about my grandmother's childhood.  My sister thinks that the Divine Universe wants us to uncover this information, no matter how sad it made us.  Because indeed, the truth does set you free.  The new information gave me the nudge I needed to get the story down on paper.  My writing has been flowing almost as freely as these blogs, and for that I am grateful.

Some of the gang

The second event was the massive heart attack suffered by one of our "gang."  Joel, a former tenant at #34, is presently in the hospital here in Carcassonne and the prognosis is not good.  French law does not permit removal from life support, apparently, until three major organs have failed, no matter what the patient's directives.  Although I am not close friends with Joel and Carol, I have socialized with them on occasion.  They were in the thick of submitting all of their necessary paperwork to become permanent residents.  If this is not a testament to living now, being now, doing now, I don't know what is.  

So this week I have felt the turning of the cosmos.  I feel connected to the Earth and to things greater than myself.  Connections to the past are strong and they have propelled me to re-connect with family and with friends.  I have been overcome by nostalgia and overwhelmed with anticipation of the future.  I feel truly alive.

Summer storm brewing in the east

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International Festival of Music

Wine, good food and dancing in the street

Ten years ago, I was in Paris for the First International Festival of Music.  Had anyone told me then that I would be living in Carcassonne and attending the 10th International Festival of Music, I would have called that person a crazy dreamer....and yet, here I am.

Band right outside of the wine bar

The Festival has grown and in cities all across France people came out to parks,  amphitheaters, public squares and in our case, in the street, to celebrate music and the longest daylight hours of the year.  Carcassonne had six or seven venues, maybe more, but I chose to attend our local "block party."  

Brought back memories

It was held just up my street toward Place Gambetta.  The wine bar across the street provided tables, chairs and the drinks, and Michel Rabat Boucherie provided the food.  A very good rock and roll band played songs all we aging American baby-boomers in attendance could sing along with, and people came out of their homes to celebrate summer.  

It had been downright hot in the afternoon; after a week and weekend of nearly winter weather, the warmth came as a welcome guest--for a while.  By the evening, however, in the shadows and with the light breezes, conditions were perfect.  

Michel gives instructions to his crew

I got there just before 8:00, and immediately had to walk back home because I had forgotten my camera.  Fortunately it was only a couple of yards.  When I got back, my former neighbor Susan had snagged a table and a glass of wine.  I then ordered my dinner, as I was hungry, and went into the wine bar for a bottle of water.  The street was already pretty lively with locals eating, drinking, talking and listening to music.  It gradually became more crowded, although never uncomfortably so. 

The young man in the center is Michel's son, Jean-Baptiste

As the group was playing an old Beach Boys tune, Surfin' USA, I had a flashback to my early teens on the east coast, walking with my friend Linda Birtles on warm summers' evenings, singing along to that very song.  In our hearts, most of us are still those teenagers.  

Jean Luc carries plates to the table

Around the corner, on Place Gambetta, a "drum line" kind of group, flying the Brazilian flag began their performance.  At times, it clashed with the beat of the rock and roll cover group that was entertaining our little party, but really, who cared? They were energetic and earnest, but will benefit from seasoning and practice. 

Brazilian Drum line at Gambetta

 

I have to confess to being not much of a wine drinker.  All those lovely vintages, with their notes of fruits and spices are completely lost on me---truly it's casting pearls before swine.  I had a bottle of water with my dinner, the "Duck Breast" plate prepared by Michel's crew.  I don't know that I have EVER had a better duck breast--it was perfectly cooked and nearly fork tender. I could cut it very easily with the provided plastic knife. Accompanied by sauteed summer vegetables, roasted potatoes and a crispy-crusted hard roll, the duck made a perfect "barbeque" dinner.  There may have been better music at some of the other spots in town, although I doubt that very much, but there was no better food anywhere!  

Cooking crew

Evidence of a good time

Street fills up

Or better company.  Many of the residents with connections to #34 congregated to share several bottles of wine, singing with the band, dancing and laughter.  At one point, I looked down the street toward the bridge (the Pont Vieux) and marveled at how happy I am that Carcassonne is my home.

La Cite watches over us as the sun sets