Chateau

The directions to Chateau Truilhas read “The road to Truilhas is lined with olive trees and vineyards beyond. Take the next right turning to Domaine de Truilhas along a gravel track. Pass through the gates and continue past the vintage cars collection! Take the next right through another large gate to find the entrance to the chateau.” With instructions like this, our expections were high for a character filled evening. We were not disappointed.Through the tall wrought iron gates Chateau Truilhas had immediate charm and faded glory. The owner welcomed us from an upstairs window. As we subsequently discovered, he and his wife had made a tree change from Paris and were now unfading the glory, runnning a guest house, gite, reception rooms and looking after their three kids. We were invited to appertifs at 8:00 then join them for a family dinner.

A large courtyard in front of the chateau gave you a feeling that Zorro could ride in at any moment. There was walled yard to one side which housed the guest gites and a granny gite. The other side a formal circular garden. At the hub of the garden was a non working fountain with spokes of hedged pathways radiating out into a perimeter of weeds. Our room in the main part ot the Chateau was basic but charming. It overlooked one of the outbuildings which now housed the kids swimming pool.

The family meal turned out to be a four course barbecue in the front courtyard with some old family friends who were on their way home from a holiday in Provence. We felt most welcome and delighted to be inlcududed in the gathering,

Canal Du Midi

 

The Canal du Midi connects the Mediterrean with the Atlantic. It is a working canal, but not as originally intended. Instead of transporting for wine and grain it transports tourists. All the clever bits of engineering still function. The locks, bridges and tunnels still operate. There is even a clever bit of engineering that closes and the canal and places a metal river bed to carry flood waters of one on the rivers across the canal.We have 5 days cycling the Canal du Midi. It is cyclist heaven. Flat tow path, no cars, tail wind, shade from the endless line of plane trees and moral superiority as smugly pass tourist lazing on their expensive canal boats. There seems to be a french law that requires all boat crews to wear bikinis and lie in the sun on the deck. It makes you wonder what they do on a cloudy day, if there were ever any. It is only the roots of the adjacent pLane trees that seem to emerge from nowhere when waving a cheerful bonjour to the boaters that disrupts the ride.Starting at Sete on the Mediterraen coast we cycle a liesurely 40 kilomtres each day. Unfortunately all this healthy exercise is completely deteated by the french food. Carcassonne is the end of the ridetrip but a long way from the Atlantic. Carcassonne is famous for having the best preserved fortress city in the world.

 

 

The Wedding

The catalyst for our trip was our Fiona’s wedding in Birmingham and it was the catalytic converter of Gill’s long service leave that has turned the wedding trip into an extended European holiday. Fiona is our niece. She married Rupesh, in Melbourne in March this year and married him again in Birmingham. Unlike Melbourne the Birmingham wedding was a Hindu ceremony. Rupesh is a Brit who Fiona met while he was working in Australia. We were very forturnate to have the opportunity of being part of the celebration.   

 

 

 

 

 

Paris

It is said that there are two types of french people, Parisians and others. We are now mingling with a scattering of the former and a lot of tourists. We have exchanged our comfortable Gite in Montcuq for a Toulouse Latrec style apartment in the heart of Paris, a mere 100 bagette lengths away from the Louvre.  

The apartment is located in one those typical 6 level french apartment blocks. It is on the 7th level, squeezed into the sloping roof cavity and reached by a lift to 5th level, then by a spiral staircase. Ancient oak beams supporting the roof split the main room at at head hitting height, the kitchen is located in a cupboard, the shower is not wide enough to fall over in and you cannot sit up in bed without hitting your head on the sloping roof. But the apartment has character and views down Rue du Louvre. When we moved into the apartment on Saturday night, the internet and TV didn’t work, the power failed and french plumbing leaked onto the apartment below. This last fault turned out to be our benefit. The owners of our apartment were living in the apartment below. They did the impossible in haveing the plumbing fixed on a Sunday and for the other faults corrected shortly after. (Perhaps being Sicilian owners helps.)

Paris is a city of boulevards, museums, churches and monuments. It is hard not to follow the tourist trail and enjoy. So we did. Notre Damme built to celebrate french persistance (200 years in construction, the rest in renovation), the Louvre to celebrate french historical acquisitions, the Eiffel tower to celebrate the defeat of Parisian fear of anything tall, the Arc de Triomphe to celebrate the oxymoron of a french military victory (perhaps Asterix defeating the Romans?)

 

The only the downside there are plenty of recruits for the Choir of Hard Hard Knocks in Parks and Metro. 

 

The annoying thing about the french is not that they think their lifestyle is superior to others but they are probably are right. The french work to live rather than live to work. They have five weeks leave a year or more, 11 public holidays and a 35 hours work week which often translates into a 9 day fortnight. Not bad. Hardly enough work hours to plan the next holiday. Over 25% of workers are unsackable public servants, which often leads to poor service. A french jokes goes like this “My mother is a public servant. My father doesn’t work either.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Velibs

Paris has 20,000 bicycles for hire called Velibs. Velibs are a solid three-geared bike, fitted with lights, chain guard and luggage basket. They are available from 1,500 bike racks conveniently scattered around central Paris, roughly 300 metres apart. All you have to do is insert your credit card in a bicycle vending machine and select a bike from the rack. The first hour and a half is free and subsequent half hours cost €1 increasing to €4 per half hour. The hire time is calculated automaticaly from when the bike is released from the rack until it is returned to another rack.

The Velibs are popular. Since their introduction a year ago, there have been 27 million rentals with each bike travelling an average of 10,000 kilometres. So popular, in fact, that 3,000 Velibs have been stolen. The Velibs are kept in good working order by regular maintenance (500,000 repairs to date). Paris is extending the Velibs into the outer suburbs this year.

Paris is cyclist heaven and hell. The city is suitably flat but the roads with their roundabouts are chaotic. The bicycle lanes are often shared with buses but the drivers are alert. After all, the national heroes are cyclists. There have been three Velib deaths over the year.

BELLE FRANCE

Here we are in Belle France, the most beautiful country in the world — just ask 60 million French people. And perhaps they are right. France is the most visited country in the world. Our little part of France in the southwest of the Lot District is indeed gorgeous. The river valleys are continuous vineyards, sunflowers and wheat fields. The hillsides are forested, opening onto a rolling plateau of more wheat and sunflower fields Narrow wildflower-lined lanes connect tiny villages each with their medieval churches. Not a lot of ugly here. It is a bit like a scruffy England but with half the population.

The Gite

Our gite (located on the internet) is located on the outskirts of Montcuq. It is a two-bedroom white-walled cottage with blue shutters. It is called the artist’s cottage, after its owner, Susan. She paints watercolour landscapes, which she exhibits and sells in France and Australia. Susan and her retired husband, Peter, live a idyllic lifestyle by oscillating between Yarra Valley and Montcuq summers. They are a friendly and slightly eccentric couple, who have left little messages around the gite explaining the intricaties of French door locks, French plumbing and everything else (except how to use the bidet). They provide recommendations on everything from restaurants, markets and tourist sites.

Montcuq

From our vine covered patio we look across a wheat field to the hill town of Montcuq. Montuq was formerly a fortified hill town. Now, it is just a hill town, as its defences were dismantled 800 years ago as part of a peace treaty. The only part that the Montcuqois were allowed to keep was the keep. The keep is the outstanding feature of the town and is visible for kilometres around. There are 1,300 Montcuqois. Typically they live in the two-storey houses made of limestone which circle the top of the hill. Narrow lanes link the house onto a shady avenue which passes through the centre of town. The avenue is the centre of activity — under the trees the Montcuqois play boule and cards in the afternoon. It is all very civilised. So civilised that the shops shut from midday to two pm.

Le Marche

Like every good medieval village, Montcuq has bustling market here every Thursday and Sunday. It is a great place to buy local produce. But sometimes it can be a little tricky to establish what your are buying. A delicious sausage, called ane, we learnt retrospectively, is donkey. I think that we must have eaten the last donkey in the Montcuq.

Cuisine

The French spend 20% of their income on food and drink. This is a reflection on how seriously the French take their cuisine. And makes me wonder how much Australians spend on food and drink. The cost in the local supermarkets is comparable with Australia. The exception is wine, which is cheaper. There used to be signs in French trains advising people to drink less than 1 litre per day. Apparently this warning is not necessary today, but wine is ever present as a staple of life. It is available in every supermarche, charcuterie, boucherie, patisserie, epicerie, tabac, restaurante and cafe.

In learning French, the first phrase that you are taught is “Je voudrais une verre de vin rouge”. This, I can manage. But in general my French goes to water when faced with anything more complex. In Montcuq my attempts at Francais often end with a very polite shopekeeper saying “Would you prefer to speak English?”

Chemin de Saint Jacque

Montcuq is on the Medieval Highway to Spain. A thousand years ago, the Pope offered to forgive the sins of any Christian who walked to Santiago to the tomb of Saint James. This generous offer attracted thousands of pilgrims from all over Europe. Today, pilgrims still walk through Montcuq, not so much for redemption, but for the exercise and good food and wine.

Votre Voiture

In the land of Citroens, Peugeots and Renaults, disappointingly Avis provided us with a Hyundai Getz. Even if we filled the back seat with wine, baguettes and a truffle pig, we have no hope of being confused with a local. However our Getz is very economical (18 kilometres per litre), easy to park and gets us there. It seems that most French vehicles are diesel. Diesel is slightly cheaper than petrol but more expensive than it is in Australia (A$2.40 per litre).

Tour De France

Stage eight of the Tour de France started not far from Montcuq. Well, about an hour and half away (100 French kilometres) in pretty little town called Figeac. The town was busy — roads closed off 2.5 kilometres from the centre. Busy, but not hectic. There is plenty of road inside the town for the public to get within touching distance of the cyclists. In typical French style, the race didn’t start until after lunch. For these cyclists, a mere 172 kilometres will take only 4.5 hours, finishing in time for the evening news. The Stage starts with a casual loop around town then a sprint to Toulouse.

The best part of being there was not the 10 seconds it takes for a 160 riders to pass by, but the convoy of sponsor’s vehicles (called a caravane). The caravane consisted of 160 vehicles or so, of all shapes and sizes. From these vehicles, gifts were thrown to the waiting children, including some of the bigger kids (us). We came home with lots of little souvenirs — key rings, bottle openers, hats, sweets and water. The riders were followed by a convoy of expensive cars with hundreds of thousands of dollars of bikes on the roof.

Pech Merle

Some of the oldest artwork in the world is located not far from Montcuq, in a cave at Peche Merle. Prehistoric paintings of bison, mammoth, horses (perhaps the first recorded french recipes) line the walls of these caves. The paintings are surprising fresh and vivid despite being between 20,000 and 30,000 years old.

Hi,

This is the Brents travelling and moving with technology.

We are off on a 8 week holiday and intend to keep anyone who is interested posted with this new to us technology.

Peter, Gill, Chris and Jono.