Where the cattle cross the river

Yes, we are in Oxford now (Ox ford, get it?) It's rained pretty much non-stop since we got here, apart from a couple of days at the start, and it's just grey and dreary. We've had a look inside a couple of colleges, spent a lot of time wandering round town, and a lot of time in the many bookshops, and yesterday a friend took us out to Blenheim Palace and to see the White Horse carved into the hillside. It rained then too, and we got pretty wet.

The big news is that now Al has chickenpox. So far it doesn't seem too bad, but new 'boutons' are coming up all the time, and everyone seems to have a horror story about adult chickenpox.

Sigh.

Destination ailleurs*

* destination elsewhere

So, this is my last post from Aniane. I had planned to spend the day going round the village saying goodbye, but to be honest I don't have the stomach for it. I don't like goodbyes. Chickenpox girl is looking and feeling a bit better but is still under the weather, and the short walk in the hills up at St Guilhem I had planned is not going to happen either. So we will slink away quietly, in our usual fashion...

A couple of last surprises

We had a nice little party for E's birthday yesterday. While we were in the garden playing one of the more raucous games, Rose, the cat from next door, crept into a freshly-weeded corner and gave birth to three kittens.



After the party our neighbours came over and brought the kitties back to their house. Rose followed over the fence ... and painstakingly carried each kittie back to their birthplace in our garden. Oh well, as E says, looks like we will be feeding two cats for the next few days...

The other surprise appeared last night at bedtime - 3 spots on E's chest. Uh oh. This morning, more spots, yes folks, it's chickenpox. What fantastic timing!! She was really upset to miss her last day at school today, but we are hoping that if she rests up well today and tomorrow she will be well enough to travel on Wednesday ...
So far it doesn't look too bad. Not too many spots, some already crusting over, and only very slight fever. She's tired though. Turns out there is an epidemic of chicken pox in the village at the moment. Sheesh!

Mystery walk

Just north of St Martin de Londres there is a pull-off car park and a sign that says 'Ravin des arcs'. I've always been curious about it, and for my last French randonnee, Mar and I decided to find out what it was. It sounded interesting, ...ravin - ravine ...of arcs? What kind of arcs? So off we went, up and over a shingly hill, through a low-growing, freshly-leafed deciduous oak forest, and down a steep stony track to ... this



I thought I'd seen everything that this part of France had offer, but no ...

The delicacy of the new leaves, bright green and almost translucent, contrasts with the massive solidity of the boulders, grey and smooth. The wall of the ravine rise out of the water like the hull of a great ship, complete with rust stains and waterline. And here's the arch - water tumbles through it, deeply green and clear - you can see all the way down to the river bed, to the logs and stones lying there.



No need to walk any further, paradise is here...

Tristesse

Only 6 days to go now, before we have to leave Aniane. Al's been in Vienna visiting colleagues and I have spent the week packing and tidying and weeding the garden, and getting ready to say goodbyes.

I'm feeling a bit subdued - while I am really looking forward to getting home and seeing everyone again, I always hate leaving. And despite myself I have really enjoyed my time here, really benefited from living in another culture (suprisingly different in many ways to my own). I've learnt a lot, from the importance of everyday pleasantries and courtesy, to the convenience of small-car-driving (I'd like one of these), and I'm pretty sure I now understand the concept of 'terroir'!! I've rediscovered a love of walking for pleasure, I've picked up ideas on land use, colour combinations, and I've learned what it's like to be a stranger who doesn't speak the language well, and how powerless that can make you feel. Luckily the people here have been kind and friendly, waited with looks of concern on their face while I stammered out my sentences, and helped me with my grammar. I can't imagine how bad it would be if people were unfriendly, hostile, or even uninterested.

And of course spring is the most beautiful season, every day there is something new to look at, flowers, leaves, interesting insects, birds, lizards... cafes that have been closed all winter are opening, kayaks are appearing on vehicle roofs, walkers doing the St Jacques de Compostelle pilgrimage are coming through the village towards St Guilhem le desert, one of the stops.

Well, life goes on, it changes all the time, and we will soon be on the next leg of our adventure, to Paris and then to the UK, where - horrors! - we will not have internet access!! I believe they do have internet cafes though, so we will have to rely upon those. A few more posts from France first, though...

Near St Martin de Londres stand this iconic pair of characters. The hulking bison's head is Pic St Loup, and standing opposite, looking a bit like a shark fin, is Hortus. You know what's coming next, don't you .... yes, a walk!! There are castle ruins on each peak, but our friends decided to take us up to the one on Hortus, which was a slightly shorter walk.

By now the weather god has flipped the switch, the rain's gone, and it is summer. Hot and sunny, and the air is fragrant and soft.

This is where we were headed - the castle is the squarish shape near the centre of the photo on the ridge.



A closer view from the other side..



After reaching the castle and exploring a bit, we headed up the ridge and had lunch somewhere near the end, spreading ourselves and our food over the track. A few hardy types needed to walk past us, but no-one told us off for blocking the track, they all apologised for interrupting our lunch, and wished us bon appetit. I am going to miss these people!

It was a lovely walk, and a lovely day, and I took about a thousand pictures. We even found a pond full of tadpoles, frog and toad eggs, a pair of mating toads, and some tiny frogs!

Here's Pic St Loup, across the valley, as seen from Hortus ...

Maguelone

On the fourth drizzly day we got desperate and decided to head for the beach (although one of us brought her book. Hint - it wasn't me). By the time we got to Villeneuve-les-Maguelone the rain had cleared up, and we set off through the small nature reserve to the beach and the romanesque cathedral.

Finally some flamingos - if you peer through your magnifying glass you might be able to see them ... we watched them for quite a while, it's interesting how they jiggle their knees back and forth to dislodge potential food from the mud.



The Cathedral has had an interesting history, which is not necessarily a good thing in these parts. At one point Maguelone had its own Pope I'm told, and was second only to Rome in ecclesiastical circles. However over the centuries it has been completely looted, and the interior is quite bare, apart from some interesting old stone tombs.



This is a Visigoth sarcophagus. Apparently the inscription reads 'to the beautiful Maguelone'...



We finished with a sit on the beach. The water was pretty choppy, but not enough for surfing. There were lots of surfcasting fishermen. Here is our book-reader enjoying the beach...

Cowboys, and the nasty toilet woman of Aigues-Mortes

We found these handsome creatures during a canal boat ride through the Camargue. The bulls are the Camargue breed - bred for the course Camarguaise tournaments popular in these parts. I've never seen this but it sounds like a riot. Various tokens are attached to the bull's horns and around its head, and it is let loose in an arena while sporty types dressed in white (the 'raseteurs')try to detach the tokens using only their wits, agility, and a small metal implement to cut the rope. From what I've seen, it seems to involve mainly the bull chasing some poor guy until he jumps out of the ring. I'm sure the bull enjoys it though - the bulls are not hurt in this game, unlike the Spanish corrida, which ends in the death of the bull. To add to the fun, after the Course is finished, the bulls are traditionally escorted back to the farm by the Guardians (that would be the cowboys, as pictured above), while the villagers try to set them free...

Anyway, we all got off the boat and watched as this pair of Guardians put this small herd of bulls through their paces. Their horsemanship was superb - the Camargue horses they are riding were laconic, insouciant most of the time, but wheeled and galloped when required and were completely unafraid of the bulls, with their big horns.

A couple of facts for you

* Camargue bulls are lighter and quicker than corrida (Spanish bullfight) bulls, but the main difference is in the horns. Corrida bull horns point downwards, whereas Camargue bulls have lyre-shaped horns.

* Camargue horses are not born white. They can be a variety of colours when born, and gradually change to white as they grow older. By 5 years of age they have turned completely white.

We did see a couple of flamingos, but way in the distance.

After all this excitement we took a peek at the touristy little town of Aigues Mortes. After lunch and a wander around the fortified wall it was time to, well, 'go'... so we found the WC, kindly provided by the commune. It was closed, despite the fact that it was supposed to open 10 minutes before. I tried the handle and someone shouted at me. I looked around and couldn't figure out who it was, so we left, deciding to come back later. A wee (pun alert!) while later we did come back. It cost 40c to 'go', no problem, we got our money out and waited patiently for the woman behind the desk to notice us, and issue us with a ticket. (Yes! A ticket! It says 'right to enter the toilet'!!) She did eventually notice us, but not in a good way. You'll have to wait, she told us. There are only two, she said, with a very sour look on her face. When we weren't deterred she got more hostile and said you'll have to go somewhere else. There's another toilet over there. Where? we thought. We asked the ladies at the information centre. They looked embarrassed when we told them what happenned and directed us out of the fortified town and across a few streets to a park. It cost 40c as well but you had to have the right change. We didn't. Okay, we'll give this one more go. We fronted up to the WC payant one more time. There was no-one else there. All the toilets were vacant (actually there were three!). However there was some confusion with the ticket books, she had got muddled up and couldn't give us a ticket. Eventually she got sick of the sight of us and shouted at us to 'just go' so we 'went'. By the time we had 'been' she had found the right ticket book and so we paid in arrears. She gave us the wrong change, too much, which we normally would have pointed out, but she was so nasty that we decided to leave her alone with her bad mood. What a drama!

Here are some pictures of Aigues-Mortes, just to show that we don't bear a grudge ..


This is the Constance Tower



Here's a view looking over the fortified town from the Constance Tower. You can see the fortified walls if you look really closely, and in the background are great white hills of salt, drying in the sun.



This is an ancient latrine, in one of the fortified towers protecting the town. We were tempted, believe me, we were tempted ...

Beaucoup de pluie

For the last 3 days it has rained steadily here in Aniane. We've had the odd day of rain before this, but this is the first time it has rained this long in the whole 8 months we have been here. Reminds me of home!! It's good for the garden though, everything was really dry before, and as you can see from the photo above, taken this evening at 7.30pm, the greenery has just taken off. The bright lime green of new leaves offsets the cloud and greyness of the day, so it still looks like spring. We didn't feel like sightseeing though. Instead we've all had a good rest, Al's got a tricky analysis done, E's played lots of computer games and read a couple of Moomin books and I've almost knitted a sock, while listening to my favourite podcasts (Guardian Science Weekly and From Our Own Correspondent (BBC Radio 4)). Time well spent!!



Earlier in the week it was sunny though. I took this pic at Villeneuvette, a charming little village built to house weavers who worked at the silk weaving factory, established in the 17th century. Draperies were made there for nearly 300 years, until the factory sadly closed down in 1954. The factory now stands in ruins, but there are still around 85 inhabitants of the village, which is close to the market town of Clermont L'Herault. Above the imposing gate through which you must go to enter the town are the words 'Honneur au travail' (honour to work).



Here's the factory, crumbling picturesquely..

mmmmm.....cheese ....

So anyway, I've been making noises for a while about going to see the cheese caves at Roquefort. The cheese itself is pretty good, a nice French blue, and very popular over here, but there's a mystique about it, as there is about so much of French food, I mean, the cheeses are ripened in real caves in the hillside ... oh come on, it's a must see! They must have finally got sick of the nagging because E and A agreed to visit the Roquefort caves today!

Roquefort is north of here, about 45 minutes, up in the Causses de Larzac, strange big hills, with flat tops. This is where genuine Roquefort cheese is made, from milk from Lacaune sheep grazed within a specific area. The cheese is ripened in caves under and around the village, ventilated by natural shafts to encourage the growth of the natural penicillium that gives the cheese its flavour. It's AOC (appellation d'origine controllee), which means that it is produced under a rigorous set of standards, and it was the first French cheese to be awarded AOC status in 1925. (I'm putting a lot of facts in this post because they wouldn't let me take any photos of the cheese).

The excitement was pretty high as we drove up to the village, squealing excitedly at the sight of sheep (sheep!! just like home!! we NEVER see sheep down in the valley where we live!!), and gasping as large refrigerated cheese trucks swooshed past us down the hill. (We knew they were cheese trucks because they had large pictures of cheese on the sides!!)

The visit was pretty good value - 3 euros each, free for kids. It started with an animated diorama thing that showed how earthquakes had pushed the rocks around and formed the caves and the landscape and then we had a 'son et lumiere' 'spectacle' which as usual involved a lot of eerie operatic-style singing and flashing lights but also told the legend - a shepherd was about to eat his lunch of rye bread and ewe's milk curd when he spotted a woman that he liked the look of, so he left his lunch in a cave and followed her. After a few days he got a bit hungry so he came back in search of his tucker, but found it had gone mouldy. Urgh! But he was so hungry that he tasted it anyway and to his delight, found that it was delicious!! Roquefort cheese was born!

Then there was a video showing how the cheese was made - it's actually made in gleaming stainless steel factories, and just matured in the caves, and that's where we went next ... to the cheese, to the cheese ...

And there they were, all cute and round and soft looking, slightly smelly like puppies sleeping innocently in front of the heater... To see them, go here and click on 'visit the cellars', then click on the little screen picture at the bottom left - you'll get a bigger picture of the cheeses that you can move around.

Drooling, we watched some of the cabaniers (women who turn and wrap the cheeses) wrapping their charges in special aluminium foil to stop them maturing too soon... and then it was off to the tasting room ... ABOUT TIME!! Of course the three varieties they produce at Societe were all delicious, even my blue-cheese hating husband liked them, and we of course came away with a massive slab of the 'Templiers'. It was creamy, tasty, and very very good ... We've called him Emilian and any minute we expect him to burst out of the fridge wearing a kilt (anyone else out there a Terry Pratchett fan?).

Here's a gratuitous scenery picture taken from the Societe des Caves carpark..

Two bridges, 2000 years apart, or 'THIS IS ME! I AM A BRIDGE!!

In the past two days we have seen two bridges, and although one was built by the Romans 2000 years ago, and one was completed in 2004, they are both absolute stunners.

Today we crossed the Millau viaduct. This is the tallest vehicular bridge in the world, and takes the A75 autoroute across the valley of the river Tarn. It's highest pier is taller than the Eiffel Tower. It wasn't designed to blend into the landscape - it hovers above the town of Millau like a massive piece of silvery jewellery. It's gorgeous, I loved it.

This is what it looks like as you drive onto it



and here it is from the lookout on the other side



Of course, big construction projects are nothing new in these parts. At some point in the 1st century AD, the Romans decided to build an aqueduct to bring water to Nimes. Part of the aqueduct traversed the river Gardon, near the town of Remoulins. It still stands today - we know it as the Pont du Gard.

Here it is



And here's the river it crosses



The aqueduct fell into disuse from about the 9th century, and was used as a bridge. However by the 18th Century, steps were taken to restore it, and the lower footbridge was constructed to prevent further damage to the aqueduct. All along the wall of the footbridge are masons marks, made by the journeymen masons who worked on the construction. Further restoration was carried out in the mid-19th century.

Here's one from 1770



and one from 1822



Don't eat at the cafe at the visitors centre though. The food was pretty unappetising, and the strawberries on my waffle were ACTUALLY mouldy.

5000 years ago ...

This is the Priory of St Michel de Grandmont. It's old, but not that old, for these parts. It was built to house an order of monks who showed their devotion by enduring hardships like no shoes, no heating, no windows and no talking, but it hasn't been used as a priory for a couple of hundred years.

The site is so beautiful though, that they certainly weren't visually deprived.



But what's really interesting about this place is what came before. The priory was built on the site of an 8th century church. This in turn was built on the site of a Gallo-Roman church - parts of this were incorporated in the later buildings - here are the Gallo-Roman pillars holding up the cloister walls, and there is an altar dedicated to Jupiter in the entrance.



There was also once a Visigoth graveyard on the site.

The area around the priory is also home to a number of Neolithic dolmens - we were too early to get the guided tour so we walked round the perimeter of the park and peered through the fence, so we could really only see this one



It's the best one on the site, however, and if you click on the link above and scroll down they have a picture of it from the front, showing the neat little doorway. The site is in French but they have great graphics, it's worth a look if you are interested.

These stone structures date back to between 2,000 and 5,000 years BC.

Had enough history? Actually I have one more thing for you. Also found on the Grandmont site last century were fossilised animal footprints - they were made by dinosaur ancestors, 160 million years or so ago.

Puts things into perspective, doesn't it.

Aniane cuts loose

Well, that's it, carnaval is over, but what a time it was.

Yesterday the school kids took to the streets in costume, armed with confetti and a variety of whistles, tooters and other noise-makers. Instructed to make as much noise as possible and given free rein with a bag of confetti each, they had a wonderful time, parading through the streets.

Nothing could have prepared us for todays parade though. Wow. Four bands, numerous
floats and just about everyone in the village dressed up. More confetti, lots of noise and colour, dancing girls, Elvises, princesses, Charlie Chaplins and Marilyn Monroes, lots of guys in drag, anyone who wanted to dress up could be in the parade. It seemed like everyone in the village was dressed up. We stood on our balcony to watch it go by, waving to people we knew, and people we didn't. One of the guys dressed up as a condom shouted 'protegez-vous' (protect yourself) and threw me a condom ... good to know he thought I was likely to need it! After watching it all go by, we felt like a bit more, so we joined them in the street for a while, then headed home, tired and hoarse.

Reveil Lodevois et ses Pompom girls!



Hardly anyone watching from the footpath - they're all in the parade!



Lous Porcs Negres de St Andre de Sangonis (the black pigs of St Andre!)



The parade continues down our street



Protegez-vous!