A Week in Deepest Rural France
Day 1
As I travelled on the bus from my town to the airport I was wondering what it would be like? I knew I had wanted to get away and I had always kept a card that advertised “Sidsmums” travellers retreat in a draw, ever since my daughter had been there some 6 or 7 years ago. I was booked in to sleep in the dormitory which I knew from the website could sleep 5 people. The last time I had stayed in places like this was back in the Mid 1970’s when I had hitch-hiked all around Europe but now I am older and I know it can’t be like it was when I was a young man and it was easy to make friends with other young travellers. Thoughts ran through my mind, would I spend most of the week on my own? Was this the right thing to do? Would the young travellers think I was strange to stay in such a place?
I had once met Sid many years ago one Sunday afternoon as he was a friend of Beki’s then partner, but I doubted if he would remember me, what about Sid’s Mum, Jan? I wasn’t sure if I had ever met her before. All I knew of Jan was that her email the day before confirming my booking had an odd message attached which indicated that she was partial to a slice or two of Ginger cake. I thought it might be a good idea to provide one.
I arrived at Carcassonne airport and telephoned the number on the card, and told Jan that there was a ginger cake waiting to be collected and maybe she could give me a lift also. Soon I was being driven to the village of Preixan, I felt more at ease as Jan said she had met me once and anyway, my daughter had told her who I was.
I also met for the 1st time Georges, a friendly grey dog who sat on the back seat looking about.
After I arrived at the retreat, I was taken to the next village by Jo-Anne who was a volunteer, so I could get some provisions from the nearest shop, 3k’s away in the village of Rouffiac. Jo-Anne pointed out the best wine to buy and with bread, cheese, and tomatoes I was well set to keep the wolf from the door.
Upon our return I discovered what was to be very important throughout that week……the benches and table outside where I would spend most of my time when at the retreat, eating cheese, sausage, olives and amazing dinners, and drinking wines from around the area with an array of people who quickly became friends.
Day 2
Both Jo-Anne and Jan had suggested that a trip to the Market in Carcassonne was the thing to do on a Saturday morning so I found myself in the minibus along with Louise and Alun who lived in Ireland, Cat from Canada ,Jan, Jo-Anne and Ian and others heading into town.
Jan told us that before going around the market it was best to sit outside “Le Chocolateur” and have a coffee and watch market life going on. I discovered that this was code for “a coffee and a piece of chocolate cake with cream around it”. As far as I could ascertain, the chocolate cake must have been made up of a highly illegal amount of calories, and I could observe a number of addicts tucking in. Being conscious that I needed to keep my weight down I ordered the small coffee only but even that came with a syrup drenched half bread half cake slice.
The market was good, the produce was top quality, but even I could not bring myself to buy a donkey sausage from the stall and stayed with the ordinary pork variety.
There was also a covered market where meat and fish could be purchased, incredibly cheap sardines and a tuna steak being my choice, unfortunately I cannot eat crab otherwise I could have picked one out from the ones that were strutting about in their basket.
Upon returning to the retreat we found a new couple had arrived so Nick and Linda joined the other six of us booked in to the local restaurant for a meal that evening.
The ladies dressed up, the men dressed down, and off we went. On the way I made my first encounter with the “Ugly Sisters” a male and female pair of Bulldogs who lurched into the road as we came along. I thought of them from then on as “Stagger” and “Wallow” as that was how they moved whilst trying to get in your way.
The 4 course meal was superb but after a few of us failed to finish the main course. I thought that we might be in for a fifth course, a severe punishment from the owner as her dominatrix type scowl showing her disapproval at plates not being licked clean was highly evident. However it was not to be and I staggered and wallowed back to enjoy a nine hour sleep.
Day 3
Enjoyed a Sunday stroll to the river with Nick and Linda and Anne, we found the way thanks to the detailed map lent to me by Jan and enjoyed a snack of red wine and cheese.
Later Anthony, a young New Zealander student arrived and joined me at the table and we demolished a fair amount of wine. Luckily just as we ran out we discovered that Jan kept a few bottles for sale and were able to keep going with our tasting session.
A number of us led by Anthony then cobbled together a meal, during which I learnt from watching Ian in action, how to crush garlic using a special local saucer with spikes in it and a New Zealand method of grating tomatoes so that the skins didn’t go into the mix. I retired to bed feeling quite mellow.
Day 4
I got up early but as I was making coffee in the kitchen and looking out at the amazing view toward Carcassonne I heard what I thought was an electric strimmer being used.
My first thought was that Ian was up making an early start but as I got to the doorway I could see Georges scratching his back against the wall and the plants hanging over and the effect was causing him to make this almighty noise. Louise and Alun appeared shortly after and then following a discussion, I remembered that Anthony had declared late the previous evening that he would cook a risotto for all, this night coming.
Louise and Alun were going to Toulouse and would get the ingredients so I decided I would walk to the village after Rouffiac, a place called Pomas, to purchase some wine. I set off, it was a beautiful day, Sun shining, blue sky, and as I left the village the fields of vines with their bunches of almost ripe grapes stretched away up the slopes on both sides of the lane I was walking down. Preixan is a “circulade” village going back a thousand years and most of the buildings looked like it was a thousand years since any paint was applied. It is a place of great charm, a place where the church bells are rung twice in case you missed the number of strokes the first time around. I mused to myself that my father would have loved this area. During the 1930’s and again in the late 1940’s and early 1950’s he had often taken the boat to Calais and then just walked. There is no shop but there is a baker’s. The ficelle loaf is so light you think its going to float home by itself, the so called french sticks at home just do not compare.
Sometimes you feel that it could be anytime when you walk in such countryside, it probably hasn’t changed for many years. After passing through Rouffiac I had to briefly walk through the vineyards beside a dual carriage way which was lined with trees. By now the heat was drawing the smells up from the herbs growing along the way. Suddenly I could remember travelling along similar roads in Macedonia and Greece 30 odd years ago and I felt really good again. Those were the days when I would step out onto a highway in the morning with a destination sign and my backpack and not know where I would be that night, a whole new adventure lying ahead.
The shop in Pomas was disappointing with not much choice of wine, I bought the best two bottles and went looking for the bar but that was closed, I was too early. I headed back and arrived at the retreat and sat eating bread, cheese, and sausage washed down with wine. Anthony appeared and then Anne and we walked up into the hills and saw a view I will not forget, the Medieval Cite of Carcassonne shimmering in the heat way over in the distance.
By the time we returned the sun was over the yardarm and Anthony and I broached a new bottle, purchased almost the remainder of Jan’s stock of Corbieres and settled down at the tables to wait for Louise and Alun to arrive with the ingredients for the Risotto.
Now, recently on TV in England there had been a series of programs trying to find a champion chef and it had soon been apparent that whoever attempted to get through the rounds cooking risotto was doomed to failure. Anthony’s risotto with the help of Ian was a masterpiece. I have to take my hat off to them; it was a great meal that had been prepared for 9 people to eat. With side dishes of salad, cheeses, sausage, and bread (Jan’s rule…do not cut, just tear and share) and good wines it was a truly memorable evening.
Again I retired to bed feeling quite mellow.
Day 5
Got up early and went into Carcassonne on the bus with Louise, Alun and Anthony.
We sat having breakfast in a café and our discussions turned to “Sidsmums”.
We all agreed that staying there was much better than staying in a Bed and Breakfast as Jan herself was a tremendous hostess who seemed to put in a large amount of effort to ensure that new arrivals got introduced to those already there, and also ensured that guests enjoyed themselves. Jan also joined in and brought a lot of fun to the proceedings.
After breakfast we went to the market in the main square. The Wednesday market was not as large as the Saturday market but I was able, with the help of Anthony speaking in French, to purchase some wonderful fresh black olives that came from Provence. Then it was time for our boat trip along the canal. We were taken through a lock and then along a scenic route from which we were able to see the old medieval cite. We went down to another lock and then turned around and returned, the whole journey taking about 90 minutes. It was excellent value for the 8 euros charged and explanations were given in good English.
Just before noon we returned to the main square where I purchased 2 cheeses, a sheep’s cheese and another, following which we adjourned to “Le Chocolateur” where Alun and louise sampled the cakes. Another million calories consumed, we then made our way to the old cite.
Each time we stopped a smell seemed to envelope us, not unpleasant to me, a pungent slightly rotting smell. After a few of these occasions I remembered the cheese I had bought and realised that they must be ripening in my small rucksack. I had unfortunately, had to negotiate their purchase using English and my miniscule French as Anthony was not at the stall with me. As a result I had purchased 2 mighty great lumps! I looked forward to tasting these and the olives at the table that evening.
Once we arrived in the old cite we stopped to sample the beer, in fact we stopped every 10 minutes or so to sit and sample the beer. The conversation flowed on these occasions and I realised more and more how lucky I was to have met my companions, and that staying at “Sidsmums” was making this a great holiday.
Upon arriving back at the main square we visited the supermarket to pick up more provisions, well, wine and sausage, basically. Anthony then went off to the station to meet his girlfriend Ruth who was also coming to stay.
At 5.15pm Louise, Alun and I faced a serious challenge, we had by now made our way back to the street where the buses waited but could not work out which bus to embark. Eventually we got on one that would take us to the bus station where we could get the one to take us back to Preixan. I learnt at the station that it is not wise to rely on the Inspector to give the correct information as to which stand to wait at and luckily, Alun spotted our bus further along, Still its all part of the fun of going to a foreign country with inadequate language skills.
I’m not sure if the other passengers quite liked the cheesy smell’s as much as I did, or whether it was just a trifle warm, but within a few minutes most windows around me had been opened. I sat smiling; I was remembering the occasion when I had suggested that a party of friends I was with took lunch at the “Cheesy Cave” (the cave de fromager) restaurant in Boulogne. Half had refused at the doorway; others had entered but then left rapidly to eat elsewhere. Only the brave few could take it!
Upon arriving back at Preixan, Jan informed us that she would be cooking for us this evening and as the sun was over the yardarm, we set about sampling the olives, cheese and sausage, and of course, the wine.
A delightful evening followed during which we introduced Ruth into our evening ritual, eating and drinking the local produce, conversation flowing. Lot’s of fun.
The dish that Jan made was called Tartiflette. It contained lardons, diced potatoes, onions, creme fraiche and tartiflette cheese to top it off. It was cooked in the oven until the cheese melted over it. Without a doubt this woman knows how to cook.
It was absolutely delicious accompanied with salad and bread (tear, and share).
And yes, you have guessed correctly, once again I retired to bed feeling quite mellow.
Day 6
Louise decided to stay home today so the hunter-gatherers, Alun and I, set off on a long walk. Alun reckoned that we did at least 15 kilometres, I reckoned more like 18 kilometres, Jan reckoned we were talking like fishermen bragging about their catch. Anyway we set off walking down the lane to Rouffiac, the sun was shining, and we were in for a hot day.
At Rouffiac we found the shop after taking a walk around the village, not by design, I’ll admit because we got lost. We purchased wine; I bought again the claret that Jo-Anne had recommended to me on the 1st day. It was called Domaine de Lassalle and had a medal as it had won an award. I always had a suspicion that the French kept their best wines to themselves, I have never come across this one in England.
I had come to this conclusion after tasting Beaujolais Nouveau on the day in November when it 1st arrives in England. I would go as far as saying that I think the French invented that day and the race that takes place to get it back to England, in order to make a market for a substandard product that they themselves do not drink.
After Rouffiac, we turned right up the lane that would take us up to Montclar, what a beautiful part of the world, the lane twisted and turned up the hillside through the vineyards and woods and suddenly there it was in front of us, the place where the Domaine de Lassalle came from. The way became even steeper as we walked up into Montclar and stopped at a bench in some shade to eat. A man went by on a bicycle and growled bonjour; unbelievably he was wearing a beret and scruffy old clothes with a French loaf on the rack, just like in the old comedy films.
The best part of the walk came next, out of the village the road followed the ridge of the hill and as it changed direction we had, in that afternoon light, stunning views of the Corbieres to the south east, the Fenouilledes to the south and as the road twisted to the north east, we could see way out beyond Carcassonne to the hills behind the slopes where the Minervois comes from. It’s a good job that the French name their produce with the place it comes from; it makes it easier for me to remember.
As the road went into more wooded countryside we saw signs indicating that wild boar might be about and saw 2 magnificent horses standing under some trees in the shade. We decided that it was too hot to go hunting for boar, besides we had plenty of cheese and sausage that we had hunted down yesterday, to keep us going.
Before getting to Roullens we turned right and headed back down the track that took us back to Preixan. Once again we could see the medieval cite shimmering in the heat haze way over to our left, and the village down on its low hill, way ahead of us. Sidsmums was clearly visible in the distance.
We arrived back at about the hottest part of the day and sat basking in our glory at our achievement with a glass of red to revive us, ignoring the female comments about alleged exaggeration regarding the distance done!
That evening Jan, perfect hostess as usual, took us in the minibus to the old cite where she had booked us a table at a restaurant frequented by local people. Another wonderful fixed price meal was served up, this time 3 courses which was more manageable than the meal we had eaten on the terrace of the restaurant in Preixan. I think Alun and I had earned that meal. I slept soundly that night.
Day 7
I decided that I would have a lazy last full day. As with other mornings, I went first to the boulongerie to get a ficelle to eat with the morning coffee. Later in the morning I ambled down to the shop in Rouffiac with Alun and louise and then returned to Sidsmums to chill out.
I noticed that Georges was leaving his big stick right in front of the doorway to my room and moved it so that I wouldn’t trip on it. Shortly after it was back in front of the doorway so I moved it again. A little later sitting at the table, I felt something hard being smacked onto my backside and turned to see Georges standing there, stick in mouth about to smack me again wanting to play! We played about for awhile and then I went to the kitchen to cook up my sardines that had been kept for me in the freezer.
Even sardines fried in olive oil tasted special sitting in that garden in the midday warmth, accompanied by bread baked that morning, washed down with a glass of local wine, just another perfect occasion in a lovely relaxing setting.
I sat for awhile talking and drinking coffee with Jan in the heat of the early afternoon on the terrace. Later as the shadows lengthened, new people arrived and the others came back from their various excursions, we sat together and talked our way through the late afternoon and early evening until yet another meal cooked by Anthony and Louise, with help from Jan, Jo-Anne, Ian, Alun, and Ruth…………and moral support from me, was served up. I did do the washing up.
Day 8
Sadly my time at Sidsmums (http://www.sidsmums.com/) was at an end, the time had come to say goodbye to the strangers who had become friends. After breakfast we drove up the road, past Stagger and Wallow still trying to get in our way, out of the village and on towards Carcassonne. After a last coffee in the square Jan took me to the airport and my flight back to England. I sat on the plane and thought about my time there, someone asked did you have a good time, I was smiling; it had been a great week. As Arnie says “I’ll be back”.
Day 1
As I travelled on the bus from my town to the airport I was wondering what it would be like? I knew I had wanted to get away and I had always kept a card that advertised “Sidsmums” travellers retreat in a draw, ever since my daughter had been there some 6 or 7 years ago. I was booked in to sleep in the dormitory which I knew from the website could sleep 5 people. The last time I had stayed in places like this was back in the Mid 1970’s when I had hitch-hiked all around Europe but now I am older and I know it can’t be like it was when I was a young man and it was easy to make friends with other young travellers. Thoughts ran through my mind, would I spend most of the week on my own? Was this the right thing to do? Would the young travellers think I was strange to stay in such a place?
I had once met Sid many years ago one Sunday afternoon as he was a friend of Beki’s then partner, but I doubted if he would remember me, what about Sid’s Mum, Jan? I wasn’t sure if I had ever met her before. All I knew of Jan was that her email the day before confirming my booking had an odd message attached which indicated that she was partial to a slice or two of Ginger cake. I thought it might be a good idea to provide one.
I arrived at Carcassonne airport and telephoned the number on the card, and told Jan that there was a ginger cake waiting to be collected and maybe she could give me a lift also. Soon I was being driven to the village of Preixan, I felt more at ease as Jan said she had met me once and anyway, my daughter had told her who I was.
I also met for the 1st time Georges, a friendly grey dog who sat on the back seat looking about.
After I arrived at the retreat, I was taken to the next village by Jo-Anne who was a volunteer, so I could get some provisions from the nearest shop, 3k’s away in the village of Rouffiac. Jo-Anne pointed out the best wine to buy and with bread, cheese, and tomatoes I was well set to keep the wolf from the door.
Upon our return I discovered what was to be very important throughout that week……the benches and table outside where I would spend most of my time when at the retreat, eating cheese, sausage, olives and amazing dinners, and drinking wines from around the area with an array of people who quickly became friends.
Day 2
Both Jo-Anne and Jan had suggested that a trip to the Market in Carcassonne was the thing to do on a Saturday morning so I found myself in the minibus along with Louise and Alun who lived in Ireland, Cat from Canada ,Jan, Jo-Anne and Ian and others heading into town.
Jan told us that before going around the market it was best to sit outside “Le Chocolateur” and have a coffee and watch market life going on. I discovered that this was code for “a coffee and a piece of chocolate cake with cream around it”. As far as I could ascertain, the chocolate cake must have been made up of a highly illegal amount of calories, and I could observe a number of addicts tucking in. Being conscious that I needed to keep my weight down I ordered the small coffee only but even that came with a syrup drenched half bread half cake slice.
The market was good, the produce was top quality, but even I could not bring myself to buy a donkey sausage from the stall and stayed with the ordinary pork variety.
There was also a covered market where meat and fish could be purchased, incredibly cheap sardines and a tuna steak being my choice, unfortunately I cannot eat crab otherwise I could have picked one out from the ones that were strutting about in their basket.
Upon returning to the retreat we found a new couple had arrived so Nick and Linda joined the other six of us booked in to the local restaurant for a meal that evening.
The ladies dressed up, the men dressed down, and off we went. On the way I made my first encounter with the “Ugly Sisters” a male and female pair of Bulldogs who lurched into the road as we came along. I thought of them from then on as “Stagger” and “Wallow” as that was how they moved whilst trying to get in your way.
The 4 course meal was superb but after a few of us failed to finish the main course. I thought that we might be in for a fifth course, a severe punishment from the owner as her dominatrix type scowl showing her disapproval at plates not being licked clean was highly evident. However it was not to be and I staggered and wallowed back to enjoy a nine hour sleep.
Day 3
Enjoyed a Sunday stroll to the river with Nick and Linda and Anne, we found the way thanks to the detailed map lent to me by Jan and enjoyed a snack of red wine and cheese.
Later Anthony, a young New Zealander student arrived and joined me at the table and we demolished a fair amount of wine. Luckily just as we ran out we discovered that Jan kept a few bottles for sale and were able to keep going with our tasting session.
A number of us led by Anthony then cobbled together a meal, during which I learnt from watching Ian in action, how to crush garlic using a special local saucer with spikes in it and a New Zealand method of grating tomatoes so that the skins didn’t go into the mix. I retired to bed feeling quite mellow.
Day 4
I got up early but as I was making coffee in the kitchen and looking out at the amazing view toward Carcassonne I heard what I thought was an electric strimmer being used.
My first thought was that Ian was up making an early start but as I got to the doorway I could see Georges scratching his back against the wall and the plants hanging over and the effect was causing him to make this almighty noise. Louise and Alun appeared shortly after and then following a discussion, I remembered that Anthony had declared late the previous evening that he would cook a risotto for all, this night coming.
Louise and Alun were going to Toulouse and would get the ingredients so I decided I would walk to the village after Rouffiac, a place called Pomas, to purchase some wine. I set off, it was a beautiful day, Sun shining, blue sky, and as I left the village the fields of vines with their bunches of almost ripe grapes stretched away up the slopes on both sides of the lane I was walking down. Preixan is a “circulade” village going back a thousand years and most of the buildings looked like it was a thousand years since any paint was applied. It is a place of great charm, a place where the church bells are rung twice in case you missed the number of strokes the first time around. I mused to myself that my father would have loved this area. During the 1930’s and again in the late 1940’s and early 1950’s he had often taken the boat to Calais and then just walked. There is no shop but there is a baker’s. The ficelle loaf is so light you think its going to float home by itself, the so called french sticks at home just do not compare.
Sometimes you feel that it could be anytime when you walk in such countryside, it probably hasn’t changed for many years. After passing through Rouffiac I had to briefly walk through the vineyards beside a dual carriage way which was lined with trees. By now the heat was drawing the smells up from the herbs growing along the way. Suddenly I could remember travelling along similar roads in Macedonia and Greece 30 odd years ago and I felt really good again. Those were the days when I would step out onto a highway in the morning with a destination sign and my backpack and not know where I would be that night, a whole new adventure lying ahead.
The shop in Pomas was disappointing with not much choice of wine, I bought the best two bottles and went looking for the bar but that was closed, I was too early. I headed back and arrived at the retreat and sat eating bread, cheese, and sausage washed down with wine. Anthony appeared and then Anne and we walked up into the hills and saw a view I will not forget, the Medieval Cite of Carcassonne shimmering in the heat way over in the distance.
By the time we returned the sun was over the yardarm and Anthony and I broached a new bottle, purchased almost the remainder of Jan’s stock of Corbieres and settled down at the tables to wait for Louise and Alun to arrive with the ingredients for the Risotto.
Now, recently on TV in England there had been a series of programs trying to find a champion chef and it had soon been apparent that whoever attempted to get through the rounds cooking risotto was doomed to failure. Anthony’s risotto with the help of Ian was a masterpiece. I have to take my hat off to them; it was a great meal that had been prepared for 9 people to eat. With side dishes of salad, cheeses, sausage, and bread (Jan’s rule…do not cut, just tear and share) and good wines it was a truly memorable evening.
Again I retired to bed feeling quite mellow.
Day 5
Got up early and went into Carcassonne on the bus with Louise, Alun and Anthony.
We sat having breakfast in a café and our discussions turned to “Sidsmums”.
We all agreed that staying there was much better than staying in a Bed and Breakfast as Jan herself was a tremendous hostess who seemed to put in a large amount of effort to ensure that new arrivals got introduced to those already there, and also ensured that guests enjoyed themselves. Jan also joined in and brought a lot of fun to the proceedings.
After breakfast we went to the market in the main square. The Wednesday market was not as large as the Saturday market but I was able, with the help of Anthony speaking in French, to purchase some wonderful fresh black olives that came from Provence. Then it was time for our boat trip along the canal. We were taken through a lock and then along a scenic route from which we were able to see the old medieval cite. We went down to another lock and then turned around and returned, the whole journey taking about 90 minutes. It was excellent value for the 8 euros charged and explanations were given in good English.
Just before noon we returned to the main square where I purchased 2 cheeses, a sheep’s cheese and another, following which we adjourned to “Le Chocolateur” where Alun and louise sampled the cakes. Another million calories consumed, we then made our way to the old cite.
Each time we stopped a smell seemed to envelope us, not unpleasant to me, a pungent slightly rotting smell. After a few of these occasions I remembered the cheese I had bought and realised that they must be ripening in my small rucksack. I had unfortunately, had to negotiate their purchase using English and my miniscule French as Anthony was not at the stall with me. As a result I had purchased 2 mighty great lumps! I looked forward to tasting these and the olives at the table that evening.
Once we arrived in the old cite we stopped to sample the beer, in fact we stopped every 10 minutes or so to sit and sample the beer. The conversation flowed on these occasions and I realised more and more how lucky I was to have met my companions, and that staying at “Sidsmums” was making this a great holiday.
Upon arriving back at the main square we visited the supermarket to pick up more provisions, well, wine and sausage, basically. Anthony then went off to the station to meet his girlfriend Ruth who was also coming to stay.
At 5.15pm Louise, Alun and I faced a serious challenge, we had by now made our way back to the street where the buses waited but could not work out which bus to embark. Eventually we got on one that would take us to the bus station where we could get the one to take us back to Preixan. I learnt at the station that it is not wise to rely on the Inspector to give the correct information as to which stand to wait at and luckily, Alun spotted our bus further along, Still its all part of the fun of going to a foreign country with inadequate language skills.
I’m not sure if the other passengers quite liked the cheesy smell’s as much as I did, or whether it was just a trifle warm, but within a few minutes most windows around me had been opened. I sat smiling; I was remembering the occasion when I had suggested that a party of friends I was with took lunch at the “Cheesy Cave” (the cave de fromager) restaurant in Boulogne. Half had refused at the doorway; others had entered but then left rapidly to eat elsewhere. Only the brave few could take it!
Upon arriving back at Preixan, Jan informed us that she would be cooking for us this evening and as the sun was over the yardarm, we set about sampling the olives, cheese and sausage, and of course, the wine.
A delightful evening followed during which we introduced Ruth into our evening ritual, eating and drinking the local produce, conversation flowing. Lot’s of fun.
The dish that Jan made was called Tartiflette. It contained lardons, diced potatoes, onions, creme fraiche and tartiflette cheese to top it off. It was cooked in the oven until the cheese melted over it. Without a doubt this woman knows how to cook.
It was absolutely delicious accompanied with salad and bread (tear, and share).
And yes, you have guessed correctly, once again I retired to bed feeling quite mellow.
Day 6
Louise decided to stay home today so the hunter-gatherers, Alun and I, set off on a long walk. Alun reckoned that we did at least 15 kilometres, I reckoned more like 18 kilometres, Jan reckoned we were talking like fishermen bragging about their catch. Anyway we set off walking down the lane to Rouffiac, the sun was shining, and we were in for a hot day.
At Rouffiac we found the shop after taking a walk around the village, not by design, I’ll admit because we got lost. We purchased wine; I bought again the claret that Jo-Anne had recommended to me on the 1st day. It was called Domaine de Lassalle and had a medal as it had won an award. I always had a suspicion that the French kept their best wines to themselves, I have never come across this one in England.
I had come to this conclusion after tasting Beaujolais Nouveau on the day in November when it 1st arrives in England. I would go as far as saying that I think the French invented that day and the race that takes place to get it back to England, in order to make a market for a substandard product that they themselves do not drink.
After Rouffiac, we turned right up the lane that would take us up to Montclar, what a beautiful part of the world, the lane twisted and turned up the hillside through the vineyards and woods and suddenly there it was in front of us, the place where the Domaine de Lassalle came from. The way became even steeper as we walked up into Montclar and stopped at a bench in some shade to eat. A man went by on a bicycle and growled bonjour; unbelievably he was wearing a beret and scruffy old clothes with a French loaf on the rack, just like in the old comedy films.
The best part of the walk came next, out of the village the road followed the ridge of the hill and as it changed direction we had, in that afternoon light, stunning views of the Corbieres to the south east, the Fenouilledes to the south and as the road twisted to the north east, we could see way out beyond Carcassonne to the hills behind the slopes where the Minervois comes from. It’s a good job that the French name their produce with the place it comes from; it makes it easier for me to remember.
As the road went into more wooded countryside we saw signs indicating that wild boar might be about and saw 2 magnificent horses standing under some trees in the shade. We decided that it was too hot to go hunting for boar, besides we had plenty of cheese and sausage that we had hunted down yesterday, to keep us going.
Before getting to Roullens we turned right and headed back down the track that took us back to Preixan. Once again we could see the medieval cite shimmering in the heat haze way over to our left, and the village down on its low hill, way ahead of us. Sidsmums was clearly visible in the distance.
We arrived back at about the hottest part of the day and sat basking in our glory at our achievement with a glass of red to revive us, ignoring the female comments about alleged exaggeration regarding the distance done!
That evening Jan, perfect hostess as usual, took us in the minibus to the old cite where she had booked us a table at a restaurant frequented by local people. Another wonderful fixed price meal was served up, this time 3 courses which was more manageable than the meal we had eaten on the terrace of the restaurant in Preixan. I think Alun and I had earned that meal. I slept soundly that night.
Day 7
I decided that I would have a lazy last full day. As with other mornings, I went first to the boulongerie to get a ficelle to eat with the morning coffee. Later in the morning I ambled down to the shop in Rouffiac with Alun and louise and then returned to Sidsmums to chill out.
I noticed that Georges was leaving his big stick right in front of the doorway to my room and moved it so that I wouldn’t trip on it. Shortly after it was back in front of the doorway so I moved it again. A little later sitting at the table, I felt something hard being smacked onto my backside and turned to see Georges standing there, stick in mouth about to smack me again wanting to play! We played about for awhile and then I went to the kitchen to cook up my sardines that had been kept for me in the freezer.
Even sardines fried in olive oil tasted special sitting in that garden in the midday warmth, accompanied by bread baked that morning, washed down with a glass of local wine, just another perfect occasion in a lovely relaxing setting.
I sat for awhile talking and drinking coffee with Jan in the heat of the early afternoon on the terrace. Later as the shadows lengthened, new people arrived and the others came back from their various excursions, we sat together and talked our way through the late afternoon and early evening until yet another meal cooked by Anthony and Louise, with help from Jan, Jo-Anne, Ian, Alun, and Ruth…………and moral support from me, was served up. I did do the washing up.
Day 8
Sadly my time at Sidsmums (http://www.sidsmums.com/) was at an end, the time had come to say goodbye to the strangers who had become friends. After breakfast we drove up the road, past Stagger and Wallow still trying to get in our way, out of the village and on towards Carcassonne. After a last coffee in the square Jan took me to the airport and my flight back to England. I sat on the plane and thought about my time there, someone asked did you have a good time, I was smiling; it had been a great week. As Arnie says “I’ll be back”.
posted by threenaps at
7:50 AM
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