Saturday, 13 April 2013

France du sud au nord




We rented a car and took off for Calais, +/- 1000 km away. The car is a Peugeot, a coppery pink colour, or so I thought. When I looked at the rental document it's described as red light!







We had sunshine, showers, hail and fifty shades of grey. The countryside was in bloom with apple blossoms, forsythias, espaliered fruit trees I couldn't identify, magnolia and many other plants and trees.



The countryside is also dotted with castles, chateaux, abbeys, towers, convents, roman ruins, ancient windmills, modern water towers (nuclear plants?) and wind turbines.

Our over-eating continues unabated. We each had a salad that would have been adequate for three but then we piled on a fish dinner and a slice of apple pie - each!!


First night in Brantome. It's all on Wikipedia - Benedictine monks, a huge abbey, Charlemagne, Vikings, war after war, and a pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela ....  It has everything.


Several trees have green spheres located randomly amongst the branches. I thought they were nests but Lorette told us that it is a parasite called Mistletoe. That kind of takes the magic out of getting a Yuletide smooch! I asked Ms Google about mistletoe - a lot about male fertility!









Second night in Blois, on the Loire river. We stayed in the attic of an 1847 building - a Johnny-come-lately in French chronology. Anything dated after the fourteenth century is relatively new!
















The old section of Blois is very charming but getting out of Blois onto the wee roads that we like was another thing. We went around in circles trying to avoid the on-ramps to the motorways and a bicycle race, going through Big Box territory. Finally we got onto a small road through very flat, green, farms.


We tried to find our way between Paris and Rouen's motorway madness. (We skirted around Chartres. We've both been there before so unless the labyrinth was open we didn't want to go there. The labyrinth is only uncovered on Fridays.) The peaceful vibe of the south was definitely over. People drove faster, were less patient with pokey us. There was more industry and less charm - and it was raining!

As we moved north we started to see 'mid-century modern' buildings - that is, mid 20th century, a reminder that much of the north was bombed during WW2. We ate lunch at a small restaurant in ??. On the wall on the outside of the restaurant there was a small sign with 'LICENCE' in red diagonal letters and in smaller script 'Loi - le 24 septembre 1941'. Perhaps a remnant German occupation?

We stopped in Les Andelys and got a huge yellow room in a place with creaky old wood floors and a beautiful bay window overlooking the street - Hotel de Paris. It was built in 1880. It was quiet during the night but traffic (big trucks and cars) started about 5 am. I think Les Andelys is a suburb of both Rouen and northwest Paris.

It does have some industry though. We met a Spanish man in the dining room who works for a company that sells airport runway lighting and it is manufactured in Les Andelys. He was with four Nepali men who were here for training regarding the lights. They are used at the airport in Kathmandu.

Ian bartered some photos for a good room rate - he's become a barterer par excellence. The owners, Danielle and Jacques, were a little unsure but when they saw the photos they were very happy and gave us a gift of a bottle of wine as well. They are mad about ducks and asked me what kind of ducks we have in Canada!?



There is an old ruin of a 12th century fort in Les  Andelys perched on a hill overlooking the Seine. It went back and forth for years- French, English, French, English, siege, war, siege, war - like a board game!










I was overcome with emotion at the Canadian cemetery in Dieppe where 700 Canadians and 200 Allied forces are commemorated.

During this week in France everyone we've met has been friendly, gracious, polite, patient and helpful - completely the opposite of the caricature of the arrogant French.

Tuesday, 9 April 2013

A Weekend in Toulouse




We had a full, full weekend with Rob and Lorette who treated us royally. Rob is Ian's cousin whom he had seen only once since 1967. Lorette is a Toulousianne living in England for the past many decades. They are in the process of retiring and relocating to Toulouse where Lorette has a lovely house on Rue du Muguet (Lily of the Valley Street).


In the heart of the city, we looked at the Basilica of St. Sernin (short for Saturnin, a saint I've never heard of) the first bishop of Toulouse, c. 250. It was wonderful to see the elegance after the excess of Espana.

We walked around the downtown area. Although the schools were on Spring break young people were in the majority. Lovely narrow streets and small shops.














Our next stop was 'le couvent de Jacobins', a 13th/14th century Dominican monastery. What we saw was the long nave with striking pillars and the cloister.  Rob and Lorette attended the wedding of a neighbour last year which was held in 'le couvent' -  a memorable and rare experience













We had a meal in town (thus began my duck overindulgence!) and then watched a festival parade. "What is the festival in honour of?" I asked. "Nothing. Just for fun."







On Saturday, they took us to Albi to see the cathedral, another UNESCO world heritage site: the Cathedral of Saint Cecilia.  The architecture is awe inspiring. It was originally built as a fortress and the windows are about 30 feet from the ground. Lorette told us the thickness of the brick walls which I've now forgotten - 5 or 10 meters?








The weather was bitterly cold, pouring with rain and very windy so we headed home.



Sundial




Our last day was spent in La Cite de Carcassonne - another amazing place. There is pages of stuff online about it. It features in Labyrinth by Kate Moss, a book I thought was stupid. I'm going to try to find another novel about the same period and that  persecuted sect, the Cathars.















La Cite is a double walled city with a palace, a cathedral and nowadays many restaurants and shops. When we were in the cathedral five burly Russian men stood in front of the altar and began singing. They had wonderful voices and the acoustics in the church made them all the better. I bought their CD of religious and folkloric music. It turns out that our car, a new Peugeot with all the touch screen bells & whistles, doesn't have a CD player! I knew CD's were 'old' but I didn't know they are extinct!





Saturday, 6 April 2013

Olé! Ronda y Sevilla


Ronda
Ronda from tower (click to enlarge, back space to return)


Ferry to Tarifa, bus to Algeciras, walk to train station, train to Ronda. Sounds like a lot but it was easy.


 








On the walk to the train station we stopped at a restaurant to have lunch. The easy French from Morocco was over and now it was all Spanish. Egad! I tried to get us some beer and we ended up with diluted red wine with ice cubes - maybe it was sangria?

The atmosphere was wonderful - men, women, children, open doors, wine, beer, laughter. A change from Morocco.



Karethe and Jaime took us for a walk around their new hometown. Breathtaking! Busy but not hectic, commercial but not tacky and overdone, bucolic but not isolated, intimate but not inward.

Ronda's sights included a Moorish bathhouse,
Medieval church, two ancient bridges crossing a deep gorge... and tiny chapel for the condemned to pray before their hanging.


















We were in Ronda for two nights and one day so we only walked about the town. We had a long leisurely Spanish lunch from 2 - 5 pm with K&J, a friend Jill, Paki the owner and assorted others who dropped by the sidewalk to say hola. Of course lunch was preceded by chocolate and churros!





Sevilla







The thing to see in the old part of Sevilla is the Cathedral de Santa Maria de la Sede. (I don't know what Sede means.) The area of the cathedral is the biggest in the world. They have a certificate from Guinness records that says so!  

It's tower, formally a Moorish minaret, dates back to the 12th century and matches the style of the one in Marrakesh. 
























Roccoco-coco-coco!  We also saw San Salvador church. Excessive, expansive, outrageous is too mild to describe them. They needed Lithium in the 18th century!!




Ian didn't take a picture of a donkey when we were in Morocco so I took my own in Sevilla.







Our hotel was called Hostal del Callejon del Agua (roughly translated as Water Lane) so the cab driver let us off at a small entrance to Water Lane. The hotel is actually on Corral del Rey so we spent half an hour going up and down and around tiny cobblestone lanes and streets.  Like the medina but clean and restored. There isn't one ninety degree angle or two parallel streets to be found.

Alcazar's Islamic domed ceiling from 1200's


















Next door is the Alcazar (palace). It's a huge Moorish-Gothic-Renaissance maze of chambers, antechambers, halls, gardens, arches, domes, flowers, tiles and tapestries.

We walked away from the cathedral-alcazar-horse drawn carriage-souvenir part of town looking for some place for lunch. Every twist and turn revealed charming squares, beautifully kept old buildings, peeks at inner courtyards and little shops.



At a tapas bar, we looked at the extensive menu with what must have been bewildered looks on our faces. The man behind the bar on the other side of the room called out "Ingliss?"  "Who me?" He waved me up to the bar. "Do you like tuna?" "Do you like lamb?" We spent a long leisurely afternoon eating wonderful food and drinking great wine.

A group of coworkers came in and whiled away the hours before going back to work. A woman out shopping came in for a glass of beer. Grandma and grandpa came in with a two year old and propped her up at the bar for the bar men to admire. No music, just chatting and laughter.

Fez to Tangier



Tangier ocean front

Easy-peasy. We drove the car to the Fes train station to meet the man who would take the car from us. The agent in Marrakesh had said "Just go to the station. He'll find you." I was my usual pessimistic self. But there he was, waving us down before I could even pull over to the side of the road. He was very serious and weary. Before he left he pulled Ian's reflector from a bag (Ian hadn't realized he'd misplaced it) and he requested a "large gift" from us so he could eat something on the journey back to Fes. He seemed happy with 30 dh.




















The cab driver in Tangier got us a little worried when he started talking about the time - something about the time changing. Daylight saving time! The only reason it was important was that we had a ferry the next day. Good ol' iPhone to the rescue! Morocco, Spain and England were all different.

Tangier - sort of falling apart and being restored at the same time. Walking through either what looks like a bomb site or a construction site. 








The area called the Grand Socco was very nice with an outstanding sidewalk fruit and veg market. Later we walked through an indoor market that was even better. Hence all the beautiful green hills between Fes and Tangier. Stuff grows!














We walked through St Andrews Church graveyard. There were seven or eight new headstones for RAF and RCAF bomber crew who were shot down near Tangier during WW2. After the graveyard we went to the Socco (plaza) to have coffee and watch the passing crowd. 

Three nuns in Mother Teresa garb walked by on their way to a service.

Ian went to the beach in the rain and saw boys playing soccer.