Christmas Greetings

Week 18 — December 10th - 21st (Sally)

We continue our news from Spain, where we have been for the past week. I would like to say sunny Spain but there has been a cold snap all over Europe and we have definitely been on the recieving end of it, not as bad as if we were on Sable, in Roanne, where we see the temp last night was -9 deg and news from neighbours report a sheet of ice on the harbour. Brrrr.

Tony's impressions of Toulouse are not truly accurate, it was cold and rainy as it receives breeze from the Atlantic rather than the Mediterreanean but it is still a lovely city, full of interesting old streets and great restaurants. We ate well on all three nights, firstly a cassolet which is a specialty of Toulouse. Probably not a good idea for two people sharing a hotel room to feast on a meal composed of three rich meats and beans, lots of beans. The fish meal on night two was just as delicious but lighter and by the time we had our third meal out in a row we were ready for some home cooking, or more precisely some non-home cooking.

On the road from Toulouse we stopped at Carcasonne, a place we had always had on our list along with every other tourist who comes to this part of France. Being Saturday it was more crowded than any other site we have visited but nothing like what it must be like in Summer. Places for 2000 cars and another park for buses etc. It is still a lovely place and we enjoyed our time exploring the streets and the chateaux. 

Our last week in France was spent in Perpignan, very close to the Spanish border and in some ways more Spanish than French, but an area so rich in history that one can only see a fraction of what it has to offer. We marvelled at the grapes planted on the most impossible slopes, and in the most inhospitable soil. Apparently the Greeks first planted vines here 700 years BC and some of them looked that old. The slopes are so steep that everything has to be done by hand, and you would not dare drop a tool or yourself or it or you would end up in the sea. 

We followed on the trail of Hannibal and his elephants; also the Cathars and the places where they were mercilously hunted; Spanish and French wars and more recently the villages that were the refuge or inspiration for some great modern painters. Ceret where Picasso spent many years, Prades where Pablo Cassals took refuge from Franco and our favourite — Collioures the home to Matisse and Derain and their school of Art, but our best days were when we took a picnic lunch and drove into the countryside to enjoy the scenery and the fabulous views.

We are constantly aware of how lucky we are to be seeing all these wonderful places outside of the holiday season — sitting on Collioures esplanade, with not another person in sight, a picnic on a deserted beach and walking alone through cobbled streets that in summer would throng with tourists.

We had a particularly magic day in the Pyrenees. We drove to Villafranche sur Conflent, a village that features as one of France's most beautiful, and caught "le Petit Train Jaune" which takes one high into the mountains. For a start there were only 3 people aboard so we had a carriage to ourselves. We were fascinated by villages clinging to rocky crags, our first glimpses of snow, then suddenly we were out on a huge plateau of deep, fresh snow. Absolute magic, we were at 1,500 metres where the train stopped long enough for photo opportunities before returning and although we loved the day we both agreed that is as close to Winter as we wish to get.

Our first day in Spain was interesting as the prevailing wind, the Tramuntana, was blowing. It is a cold northerly wind that can blow for 3, 6 or 9 days, and had been strong enough to shred all the street banners that had been erected for Christmas. Fortunately we must have been at the end of the cycle as the next day, Tony's birthday, was calm though still cold. We celebrated in true Spanish style with a very long, delicious lunch. Palamos where we are staying has a wealth of restaurants, impossible to choose, so we went for position, overlooking the beach and harbour. The menu was even harder to select from so we went for the 7 course degustation. Good choice, it turned out to be 9 courses, as they included an appertif plus dessert plus wine plus 2 glasses of champagne all for E80.  All the courses were seafood and all the varieties were very small — clams, whitebait, mussels, anchovies, prawns etc. A great introduction to Spanish cuisine. Looking forward to sampling many more great dishes over the next month. Now of course we are awaiting the arrival of Miles, Nicole and Louis who will be with us for Christmas in Barcelona.

As we celebrate a typical Spanish Christmas we will raise a glass to our loving family and to our good friends. We wish you all a happy family time and hope that all your dreams and plans for 2008 come true.

It is likely that our internet access over the next few weeks will be limited so you may not hear much from us for a while. But, we shall return...

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.