Languedoc-Rousillion

Week 16 — November 26th to December 9th (Tony)

We set off from Roanne in freezing cold by train to Montpellier where we picked up our car, a Citroën C4 hatchback. Practically all accommodation in the city was booked out for some expo but we somehow wangled a couple of nights in a very central, cosy hotel. Montpellier is a city that appeals to everyone. Its architecture is an eclectic mixture of old and new with wide boulevardes and winding narrow lanes full of interesting shops and eateries. But most of all you can hear people having fun, playing music, laughing, calling out greetings across the street, a stark contrast to the ghostly silence that prevails in most urban areas in France. Sixty five percent of Montpellier's population is under 25 and 65,000 of them are university students. You can almost smell the testosterone.

Beziers on the other hand is old, tired and filthy — meaning dog pooh! Beziers could easily claim a prize for the greatest spread of doggie doos in France; Perpignan would come a close second. It's hard to admire a place when your eyes are glued to where your feet are about to tread.

We rented an apartment in Sète, looking out over the Mediterranean, for a week. A lively town set on a high promintory attached to the mainland by a long, narrow strip of sand, Sète is famous for its fishing industry. Watching the fleet and its trailing flocks of thousands of seagulls return to port late in the afternoon to disgorge the day's catch is a tourist attraction in itself.

An excursion up to Millau to appraise the incredible viaduct built over the Tarn was an absolute must. By far the highest bridge in the world, the scale of the structure is difficult to comprehend let alone photogragh — impossible to fit into a single snapshot without trick photograghy, or a helicopter. Yet far from imposing on the landscape, it suspends itself gracefully like a spider's web across the vastness of the gorge. I salute the brave, innovative engineers who resolved the technical difficulties of spanning such a massive ravine — it kept me awake for nights figuring out the intracacies of how they did it — even though I knew — it just seems so brazenly ingenious, and risky!

Another day we drove up to Aigues Mortes to view the quaint, perfectly retained fortress town built by King Louis IX (St Louis) in the thirteenth century, near where part of the Rhône River drains into the immense, marshy Camargue (its bulk discharges into the Mediterranean near Marseilles). It was a political success for the kingdom but became an economic disaster when in the middle ages the place was left stranded three miles from the sea as it receded (yes, global climate change was an issue, even then). Thereafter, strategically, it wasn't worth attacking; and so it remains, unscathed, almost pristine, far from the route taken by most tourists in the south of France. For us it was also an opportunity to check out the canal through the Camargue and down through the estuaries all the way to Sète and the start of the Canal du Midi.

We paused in Capestang, on our way to Touolouse, to investigate Oppidum d'Ensurene. This ought to be a major tourist attraction but receives no mention here at all other than a couple of road signs. Built by the Romans, this huge radial drainage configuration first caught our attention, by accident, about a year ago when we searched Capestang on Google Earth. And behold, looming out of the landscape several kilometres east of the town was this colossal geometric design. We gazed in awe from high atop a lookout where some clever Roman must have observed the natural dish-shaped formation of the land and conceived a plan to convert it into a catchment for their water supply. Check it out, it's amazing.

We also stopped by to introduce ourselves to Richard and Linda, former owners of Vertrouwen, the first barge we had set our hearts on buying, but miised out. She is still presently moored in Capestang, looking beautiful, but we're pleased we bought Sable.

We have been exposed, literally, to this region's unique climate. Sheltered from the north and west by mountains, the weather has been like a GC winter, with clear sunny days, although sometimes the wind can be fierce and cold. After climbing over the range our descent into Toulouse brought us down into the foggy, damp, cold climate that the rest of France knows in winter; a bit like driving into Dunedin really... Toulouse, France's fourth city, is big, bustling, boring. Perhaps I'm unfairly judging her because (a) we couldn't get through the Airbus factory (foreigners have to provide their passport details three days in advance) and (b) the unkind weather. Next stop — Perpignan, then Spain.

Winter in Roanne

Week 14 — November 13th to 25th (Sally)

Well what an interesting social time we have had lately. As we are continually being told, we live in a floating village and we certainly are getting a taste of village life, even to having our own bar, " Les amis du port," and a less inviting bar would be hard to find. One small room, not enough glasses to go around, a couple of bare tables, but we make it come to life on Friday nights which seems to be the only day which madam makes any money. However it is a good chance for the Boating Village to get together and organise the weeks activities.

But first of all the weather, and our first taste of snow. We woke one morning, and just as we were discussing whose turn it was to get the croissants we noticed snow flakes falling. Within 10 minutes it was a blanket of white, very pretty, and incredibly cold. We never did get to have croissants and the only time I left the boat was to take a very quick photo. It soon cleared and since then we have had rain, several days of wind and a couple of good frosts. Plus a little sunshine in between.

Friday night was dinner with Jeff and Jane on their boat Whisper, joined by an Australian couple who live on a bigger boat than ours which fills me with admiration as Katinka has MS and gets around on a little fold up battery operated scooter. She does all the wheel work while Scott handles the ropes. We had a good time and enjoyed a meal of Chilli.

Saturday we were invited to lunch with Max, an American who has bought a french residence in a smalll village outside of Roanne. Early Saturday Max arrived to collect us and take us to his place where he had prepared lunch, a great dish of... Chilli. The property he has bought is very interesting, built in 1741 as a hunting lodge, then the owner at a later date built the adjoining chateau and then stables, bake house and servants' quarters. Now it is a square of buildings around a central courtyard and was bought some years ago by a Brit who renovated the chateau as a B&B then sold off the other buildings as part of a Body Corporate set up. Max has a part of the hunting lodge, and we saw photos of the ruin he started with before he restored it to a very interesting, comfortable holiday home. He has spent five years on it and a considerable amount of time in salvage yards and antique shops so the finished result is interesting and authentic. He's now building a garage for his car and boat, so after lunch Tony suggested he help put the roof sarking on, a suggestion that was agreed to immediatly so some of the chilli was worked off in the country air and Max got most of his roof done before we came home.

Sunday we biked across the river to a Food Fair that featured food and wine stalls from different areas of France, and even one from Germany. The first stall was the German wine and Christmas cake. While sampling they asked where we came from and when we said Australia, a lady on the stall started talking about her trips to Australia and did we know Currumbin and did we know the Neumanns. A small world. The Food Fair was a great success and we came home with various purchases which kept us in beverages if not in food for most of the week.

The next Friday we were invited to dinner by Cora Michel, a local identity with an extremely vibrant personality. Born in USA, raised in Croatia, educated in France, fluent in five languages, Cora is now married to a Frenchman, Thierry, and they live in a village about 15mins from Roanne. Cora teaches English at the local school and university, Thierry runs a woollen manufacturing plant and they are renowned for their hospitality — and the size and scope of Thierry's wine cellar. Cora likes to invite various folk from the port to partake of their hospitality, and it was truly a night to remember. The ten of us, eight from the port - two Dutch couples, one American couple and us - sat down at eight o'clock and eventually rolled out the door at 2.30am.

Cora and Thierry live in a 400 year old property that they are still in the throes of renovating. The village has narrow one way streets, you have to negotiate a lefthand right angle turn into a courtyard, a very tight turn indeed, and then you are into the house which is one delight after another. Metre thick walls, huge rooms and a myriad of possessions. They discovered in one room a Louis 14th fire screen, complete with the Royal Crest which now sits in front of the huge original fire place.

However the pleasures and delights of the house fade when compared to the main attraction of the property — the WINE CELLAR. Thierry started collecting wine when he was eighteen and now has a cellar that had a smile on Tony's face that could not be erased. His comment, "I'm not dead yet I've seen Heaven" We eventually got to bed at 3.00am, after five courses (I did manage to count those) and inumerable bottles of very fine wine. Truly a night to remember.

The only other social occasions this week have been entertaining Christian and Charlotte, our Swiss neighbours, for dinner; Sunday lunch with Jeff and Jane; boules this afternoon; French lessons last Wednesday and packing for our trip south tomorrow. We are on a train to Montpellier, as long as they aren't on strike AGAIN.