TRICK OR TREAT?

Today is Halloween. It’s not a very big deal in France, but its popularity among children is growing. Last year I had about 50 kids show up, some escorted by their parents. Today, however, is the second day of our reinstated confinement as the COVID numbers are once again out of control. In fact, they are worse in France than they were in the Spring. So there will be no trick or treating tonight. “Bah, humbug!” say the kids. Or something close en francais.

This past July, with seemingly great pride and self-satisfaction, French health officials announced they didn’t expect a second wave to happen because things were looking that good. But les vacances took care of that. While people were restricted with regard to where they could travel, the entire country was at their disposal and travel they did bringing with them the virus. In August, the numbers began to spiral upwards. Earlier this month we were seeing daily reports of new cases jump to 22,000. Then, a couple of weeks ago, 52,000 new cases! So the government had to step in and we’re back on lockdown. It is in effect until December 1 but as we saw before, that date could be adjusted depending upon the numbers.

To add to my misery, this week I am having the flooring replaced on the main level. The worker began Tuesday by ripping out the old veneer to find (of course, this is France!) “some problems.” He originally intended to first resurface with a layer of cement Tuesday afternoon, but for whatever reasons I still don’t completely understand but I’m assuming the various types of floor he found, he decided to use a fiberglas composite which he couldn’t do until Thursday because he had to procure the material. So he finished early Tuesday and I decided to take a deep breath and get out and do something.

There is a vineyard just outside my village of Montréal called Domaine Le Fort. I am fond of their Sauvignon Blanc but didn’t have any particular impressions of their other wines. I friended them on Facebook and saw a posting where they had been honored in the 2021 Hachette Guide for two of their reds: one, three stars; the other, two. It had been on my list of things to do, so I decided to drive the short distance and taste the wines. The tasting confirmed that the 3-star wine is right up my alley in terms of strength: full-bodied, dry and complex. The French use the word puissant (powerful). So I bought a case.

I came home to find my English neighbors Jan and Dennis had just arrived after a harrowing drive down from the Midlands. I invited them over and because they officially need to isolate for two weeks coming from the UK, we sat on the terrasse and enjoyed a bottle of the 3-star wine, some paté de campagne, and a truffled cheese aptly named Tomme de Berry. It was a nice evening and I was happy to see them.

I had to vacate Thursday afternoon for six hours while the new floor composite, which was painted on in the morning, dried. I sequestered the cat and went touring. However, cats do what they want and, despite a barrier, she found her way downstairs so there are little paw marks in the cement that will be there for posterity. Fortunately she didn’t seem to have any chemical reaction to the cement, but she is definitely out of sorts given the relative confusion. Like all cats, she likes constancy.

Leaving home around noon Thursday, I first ran an errand in Carcassonne, then picked up a ham & cheese baguette from the boulangerie. Then I looked at a map to decide how I was going to spend the next five hours.

I recently finished a very good book entitled Lauragais by Colin Duncan Taylor (Troubador Publishing Ltd, 2018). The Lauragais region is just north of Montréal (we’re in the Malpère region) and extends almost to Toulouse, east to Carcassonne and west to Pamiers. Its topography includes rolling hills, vineyards, fields of wheat, corn and sunflowers; countless chateaux, priories and abbeys in various states of ruin; and lots of history centered around not only the Cathars, but the War of Religions where there was conflict between Catholics and Protestants – not dissimilar to the tragic conflict earlier with the Cathars who protested the power and politics of the Catholic Church. The map below details the extent of Cathar history tied to this department (Aude). Even my own village of Montréal – just west of Carcassonne on the map – is famous for a visit from St. Dominic in 1206 as an emissary of Pope Innocent III to negotiate an agreement with the Cathars who inhabited my village. He wasn’t successful and the Inquisition was the result.

I haven’t spent much time in the Lauragais and none whatsoever in the Montagne Noir which forms the southwest border of France’s Massif Central. So I focused my attention there and decided to visit the villages of Saissac and Saint-Papoul.

Saissac is in the foothills of the Montagne Noir at an elevation of 467 meters (1532 feet) and has the ruins of a 10th century castle. En route, I passed through Montolieu, nicknamed “The Village of Books” for its numerous bookshops.

The road twisted and turned as I drove up to Saissac and I stopped twice to take in the views. Sadly my photos don’t do them justice. But it is definitely a drive worth taking.

I paid the 5 euro fee and entered the ruins of the Chateau de Saissac dating back more than a thousand years (10th century). It must have been an impressive building in its time as it appears to have had at least four levels. Sadly not a lot remains but it is interesting to imagine life within these walls at that time.

A small museum has been created in a restored building documenting the creation of money. There were gold and silver mines in the Montagne Noire, and the fabrication of coinage remained local.

Leaving Saissac, I drove 15 km to Saint-Papoul, famous for its 8th century Benedictine abbey. The road was tortuous, but again idyllic and pastoral with gorgeous views of the plain below.

The Abbaye de Saint-Papoul has several outbuildings, a 13th century cloister, and a functional church that surpassed my expectations. Owned by the municipality since the French Revolution (true for all churches in France), I understand it is also quietly for sale.

After paying the entrance fee, I proceeded into a room displayed with artifacts and relics from the past. These include a beautiful reliquary of St. Philip Neri and a heavily embroidered priest’s chasuble from the 17th century.

Next came the 13th century cloister, similar in design to others in the region but nonetheless impressive and serene.

The abbey church adjoins the cloister and was designated in the 13th century as an abbey-cathedral, a centerpiece for the region.

The abbey church is not terribly big, but nonetheless impressive in its largely Baroque design, including a 13th century choir.

I enjoyed my visit to the Abbaye but finding I still had time to kill, decided to make one more stop.

In Colin Taylor’s book, he described the medieval wode industry. Wode is a plant from whose leaves is extracted a beautiful blue dye called pastel. Extraction was a lengthy process demanding precision and time. The merchants in Toulouse who orchestrated its development became very wealthy as demand grew within and beyond France. The pigment became the highly desired royal blue, so-called because it could only be worn by nobility.

Taylor tells the story of Denise Siméon Lambert, an American from Chicago who, with her Belgian husband reinvented the industry in recent years. Aided by professors at the School of Chemistry in Toulouse, they discovered a simpler methodology to extract the pigment from the plant. In the past, urine was required. Modern methods avoid this and reduced the time to extract the pigment to less than a day.

Denise’s passion for wode extended to convincing local farmers to grow the plant creating the necessary supply for her work. She has also been generous in freely sharing this information to bring others into renewal of this industry. Thus far, several shops in the region including Toulouse provide goods dyed in the pastel. Denise now owns a small atelier (workshop) in Roumens and will take any item you care to have dyed and do it herself. Her love of working with pastel continues.

So it was to Roumens I went, to visit the workshop and to see the products firsthand. As it turns out, Denise assumed ownership of this particular workshop just two years ago, taking over from its previous owner who was ready to retire. She moved down to the Lauragais with her daughter and her 23 year-old mule to continue her passionate work with wode.

I wasn’t aware of her move and purchase of this particular workshop, so I didn’t expect that I would be actually meeting her in person as I walked up to the atelier interrupting this woman providing a mini-tour to a French couple tout en francais. When she later asked me if I was French and I replied “Non, je suis américain,” she broke into perfect American English and I realized it was her. We chatted for over an hour after the French couple departed. It was exhilarating.

As the color scheme of my main floor is essentially blue and white, I purchased a small pillow for my reclining chair. It will work beautifully.

It was an eventful afternoon and I’m glad I took this mini-tour Thursday because we are now limited from any travel other than for shopping, necessary appointments or (within 1 km of our homes) exercise for one hour daily.

Yesterday (Friday) Sylvain, the man assigned to do my flooring this week, laid the carpeting on the staircase. Application entails a rather strong glue, but fortunately it was a nice day with temperatures in the low 70s, so we had all the windows open. Nonetheless, he advised against sleeping here last night as the fumes can cause nausea, headaches etc. So I booked a room in La Cité, the medieval city of Carcassonne. Given lockdown which was just announced Wednesday evening, everything changed. Restaurants are ordered close and La Cité, which relies heavily upon tourism as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, also closes down.

Around noon I received a call from the hotel I had booked (Hotel Donjon) to learn they were also closing but they were going to accommodate me in their sister hotel, Hotel de la Cité, a far superior 5-star property – at no additional charge. Their restaurant, La Barbacane, is one of the best in the area and has one Michelin star. I had an amazing meal there last year accompanied by an amazing price. But given the pandemic, all meals were being provided via room service. Regardless, it was spectacular: a filet of beef with a rich brown sauce, and a salad of shredded carrots, chickpeas and coriander. It was nice to have a sumptuous room, a nice glass of a regional Carignan wine, and a meal to behold given the upheaval of the week. I slept well.

This morning, La Cité was dead. Virtually no one was around given confinement. There are only 47 residents in La Cité, but it seemed like a ghost town as it is usually crowded with tourists from all over the world. So my walk back to the car was quiet and uninterrupted.

All in all, this week was more of an adventure than I expected. It has definitely had its ups and downs what with the flooring project underway. I will be glad when it is done and I can put the house back together.

I was home by 10:30 this morning and I think my cat was happy to see me. (With cats, do we ever know for sure?) Regardless, she seems to appreciate the new carpeting on the staircase.