I suppose that working on a blog of a trip that was six months ago may seem unusual, but concerns about eccentricity rarely concern us people of British ancestry. This journal will undoubtedly require many more months to finish.
Carcassonne
Of course, the day began at the Quality Hotel Bordeaux Centre. Louis had instructed us to put our bags out especially early, and I did so well before going down to our extra-early breakfast. The hotel had agreed to serve way before its usual time to accommodate our tour. We were going to be driving across the Aquitaine, around Toulouse, and on to Carcassonne with the hope that we would arrive in time to eat lunch before our tour of the fortress. We would have a new driver to replace Hervé. This turned out to be a much younger man named Nicolas.I made do with the clothes I had. They would be different from yesterday's, but the choices were limited because of the three sets left hanging in the closet in Chinon. Wearing acrylic underwear and socks had worked well so far. I had brought plenty of changes, and whenever we had a two-or-three-night stay, I would wash underclothes in the sink the evening we arrived.
In Chinon, the Hotel de France had had an electric towel-drying rack in the bathroom. I found I could hang t-shirts, socks, and shorts on this, set it for an hour or so, and head out secure in the knowledge that things would be dry when I returned. Next-door hotel neighbors, Howard and Susan Hian, told me about this, but I had had to have the rack activated from the desk downstairs.
Late yesterday afternoon--before we went to dinner, Louis had come into my room and washed my new beret in the sink in warm water, twisted it to wring it dry, and left it wrapped in a towel. Sure enough, it was dry enough to wear this morning, and it conformed to my head perfectly.
I do not know how Louis and Nicolas managed to load our luggage because when we finished breakfast and headed out, we still had to walk a few blocks of our pedestrians-only street before reaching and boarding our bus.
Louis had already explained that anything we did not want to leave onboard the bus when we arrived in Carcassonne should be packed in our suitcases, because we would be taking our totes, water bottles, etc., with us and emptying out the seats completely.
I had not thought about this enough and had brought along a few paperbacks to read. I supposed I could carry them just fine in my tote, but later due to their unexpected weight, I regretted the decision. Young Nicolas appeared to be in his early twenties and was a very pleasant fellow, but he spoke little English. Louis told us later that his family owned the bus we were riding in.
Gordo gettin' a snooz
The morning trip allowed me to rest and sleep part of the time because I was truly exhausted from the day before. I knew we would be skirting the city of Toulouse and would not have much to see there, and sure enough that turned out to be the case. I regretted this, because Toulouse is the center of the French aircraft industry and had a huge Airbus factory, but on tour one cannot see everything.We rarely went more than two hours without stopping for a break. These were usually at very nice highway rest stops; they were comfortable tourist centers with gas pumps, restrooms, food-and-drink machines and racks, and often had restaurants.
Sometimes, at remote spots, the bus would stop at French roadside parks. These would usually have a few picnic tables and a restroom building. Some of these places were not equipped with toilets but had mere holes in the floor. Men could handle this, but women were not amused.
The plan today was to arrive at the medieval fortress of Carcassonne, exit the bus with all our things, eat lunch inside the walls at La Table Ronde, and then tour the fortress. Later, we would board the bus and head to our hotel, a short distance from one of the old city gates.
In years past, I had shown my students films of France, which often included Carcassonne, and I was always impressed by the massive size of the place. It is in fact the largest restored medieval fortress in all of Europe. It had been a strategic Roman fort on the road from Italy, across southern Gaul, and on into Spain. The high walls the French added in later years sat right on top of the old Roman walls whose flat, wide bricks were still quite visible.
While we were still on the bus and approaching Carcassonne, Louis asked us about a famous rebellion that had occurred here, and I drew a blank, but Geraldine Russell piped right up. She seemed to know more about it than the rest of us and said the rebels were known as "Cathars" and had been based here and nearby Albi during the "Albigensian Crusade." This had been a war of suppression that the French King and the Catholic Church waged successfully in the 1200's.
Many Cathars had been killed and the fortress was heavily damaged. This entire region had been reduced in population and importance, and Carcassonne had not been restored structurally until the middle of the 19th century.
A town had grown up outside the walls, and the Tour de France came by last summer. I watched on television and had been frustrated that the city had been shown but the fort ignored. Apparently,
the film crew shot pictures of the passing cyclists FROM AND NOT OF the high towers of the fortress.
Our bus approaches Carcassonne.
Carcassonne has served as the locale of several movies--among them Robin and Marian. The view of the fort as we approached from neighboring hilltops was awe-inspiring as we wound our way around the place to the side we would enter from. We were only a short distance north of the Pyrenees and the farthest point south of our entire tour.
We enter Carcassonne through a gate in the outer wall.
Lady Carcas
In films of France I had shown to classes back at GHS, this amazing walled city often stood out. Actually visiting it was just as impressive as I thought it would be! No wonder movies are shot here.
This statue was put up during the restoration of Carcassonne in the 19th century. According to troubador legend, near the end of a long siege, Lady Carcas fed a pig full of corn and had it dropped from the wall. It fell, burst in front of the enemy army, and "realizing" these people must have plenty of food left if they could feed corn to their pigs, withdrew. Upon this, the bells of the city rang in celebration, and witnesses said, "Carcas sonne," meaning Carcas is ringing. That's the old story.
However, serious historians think it's entirely made up.
Now we cross a bridge over a dry moat into the inner wall.
Every wall had "arrow slits."
Growing veggies in raised beds bordered by woven sticks
Again, I recalled the story of the corn and the pig. Near the end of a very long siege, the defenders fed a pig full of corn and dropped it from one of those high platforms. It fell to the ground and burst wide open. At this sight of it, the attackers were so discouraged that they had lifted the siege and gone away. They reasoned that the people in the fortress must still have plenty of food to hold out longer if they had enough corn to feed to their pigs. In fact, their food was almost gone, so this was a bluff that worked.We made our way to a restaurant called La Table Ronde and ate a delicious lunch, whose main course was again cassoulet--this time served in the same clay bowl it was cooked in.
Cassoulet at the Table Ronde
Later, we met our docent and she took us on a tour of the fort. First, we saw a model of the restoration, and the we then climbed many steps to the high ramparts and circled the perimeter of the place. The views of the town and the area below were spectacular. In some spots, I noticed nets set up to catch the pigeon droppings from above. They'd also caught a few dead pigeons.
Our local guide was the woman with straight, blond hair to the right and with her back to the camera.
Scale model of Carcassonne
This docent turned out to be very hard for us to understand. Her English was labored, and she was so anti-Catholic that she really turned me off. The Schullers actually complained to Louis about this later.
She discussed artistic depictions of Pontius Pilate's famous audience with Jesus during which he presents him to his own people and says, "Behold the Man"-- in Latin--"Ecce Homo." Our local guide pronounced it with a really Italianate sound--like "Etchey Uomo." This may have been more like the old local Occitan language, but none of us were used to that pronunciation, and she seemed quite unaware of the way it sounded in classical Latin.
Maybe it was that I was tired and not feeling well, but she impressed me as incompetent, and this struck a discordant note. It seemed that the King and the Pope had missed a few Cathars.
Florence Gross from NYC
Once we turned a high corner during our tour around the top, Florence Gross and I traded picture-taking. Unfortunately after the tour, I could not read her e-mail address, so I could not send them to her, nor did I ever receive the ones she took.
I loved the views, but I grew weary of trudging up changing levels of steps with my increasingly heavy tote. I also realized that I was simply not feeling good and was probably coming down with something.
View from the high ramparts
By the time we went back to the main courtyard and met up with Louis, I was extremely tired and feeling ill. I dreaded catching something that would be hard to get rid of and that would ruin the trip, and so did everyone else. I had brought my regular, daily medications, and in addition, I had ibuprophen, acetaminophen, and Benadryl. I also had packed a prescription for antibiotics and cough syrup in case of something more serious.
Rendez-vous back at the main square
Nevertheless, I had felt okay until now. We boarded the bus and drove a short distance to a hotel called the Mercure Carcassonne-Porte de la Cité. It was a nice, convenient, two-story affair, and after we moved our luggage in from the parking lot, our rooms were assigned, and our keys given out, I settled in for the evening and the night. I would not be going with the Schullers to mass this weekend. I ate some cheese, fruit, and bread from my carry-on and then took my regular meds plus benadryl, acetaminophen, and cough syrup and settled in for much-needed rest and recuperation.
View from the hotel
Hotel Mercure-Porte de la Cité
I had hoped to have at least enough time and energy to walk around the hotel for a view of the fortress at night. I had seen pictures of it all lit up and knew it would be very beautiful, but I did not even do that. I spent the entire time resting and praying I would feel better in the morning. I was so looking forward to the Pont du Gard and Arles.
What follows are some afternoon and evening shots from tour members who went back to inside Carcssonne after we settled into the hotel. If I couldn't shoot these myself, this is the next best thing.
Bonne nuit, Cascassonne!
Fin
