The day was Wednesday the 30th of May. The challenge was: to experience three small towns in the south of France in just one day.
Well not quite. 'Exist in' is probably more accurate than 'experience'.
'Plan' was accurate though. We had our train ticket to Carcasonne from Narbonne all booked, and we had timetables with train times circled for how we were going to negotiate from there. The plan was: Leave our bags at the Narbonne hotel, train to Carcasonne, Carcasonne it up for the day, train back to Narbonne to grab our bags (yes, hoof it the 25mins back to the hotel just to get our stuff then hoof it another 25mins back to the station... Needless to say, no left luggage facilities available at the station or at Carcasonne), THEN get a train from Narbonne to Sete. If you look at the geography it makes a little more sense. What doesn't make sense is why we were in Narbonne rather than already in Carcasonne the day before. This, I cannot answer. There was a reason, once upon a time. Anyway Narbonne was lovely for a night...
BUT I DIGRESS. I'm always digressing. It's an odd word. It seems from now on today will be largely like a children's picture book. Seems appropriate...
Maxi pain au chocolat, consumed in the pretty park beside the river in Narbonne, was deemed an appropriate breakfast (once coffee was added to the mix at the station).
Without bags in tow the stroll to the station in the warm Southern France sun was quite pleasant.
On the way we poked our noses into the Narbonne daily covered market. It seemed to be bustling with lively bustliness.
Narbonne train station. Very typical look for the train stations in these parts, we have come to learn.
And just like that we were off! Racing towards Carcasonne!
Arrived at Carcasonne at a respectable hour of the morning. Already fairly warm. We headed to the info desk as recommended by the guidebook and successfully procured a free map and instructions for the fastest way to the old city, place we had come to see.
"New Carcasonne" was also a fairly lively and interesting place. But weren't there to eat or shop! Not yet anyway. We had come to see Castles!
Testament to the fact that it is the 'off season' that this square near where you cross the bridge to Old Carcasonne could be photographed with nobody on it.
Greg leads the way over the bridge.
Except for when he pauses to take my picture by the pretty river!
Then! There it was: Old Carcasonne in All It's Mighty Medievilness
The approach was through even older looking cobbly French streets.
The Hungry Hordes of tourists swarmed near the front drawbridge entrance.
By the front entrance, the Bust of Carca.
Legend has it that once the castle was under siege and almost out of food. This clever lass Carca had the rather mental idea to take their last pig and stuff it full of their last measure of wheat then throw the pig recklessly off of the wall. When the enemy saw the pig used thus they assumed that Carcasonne must still have oodles of food left, and that continuing the siege was futile, so they packed up toodled away. When the inhabitants of Carcasonne (then called something much less interesting) saw the enemy leaving they rang the bells and the bells sounded out. (sounded =sonne in French) ... and thus the town was then renamed Carca-Sonne.
(Actually historians think it's called Carcasonne due to it's links in Latin or something to the word for Castle. But they are poopy and ruining a good story. Unless you love pigs, then it's a bit of a horrible story regarding the poor pig.)
Crossing the drawbridge entrance. Made crooked to prevent charges with long battering rams.
Greg and I took the guidebook's suggestion and immediate set out to explore the walls and ramparts.
Greg being an archer and protecting the city via the arrowslits in the wall.
Just chillin' on the ramparts of an ancient castle. Just casually.
Pigeons in man-made pigeonholes.
The walls thoroughly explored, we found the carcasonne cathedral next. A complicated little place due to the complicated religious history that went on here. I forget the specifics, but anyway in it's present day form it's mostly Gothic with an old hint of Roman, I think.
Inside was suitable gloomy and medievil.
Pretty rose windows.
We were pretty much done and about to head outside again, when we heard music. Acapella male voices singing presumably hymns in French The 'surround-sound' quality of it had us convinced that it must be a CD, until we looked towards the alter and went "oh!" and rather quickly take a seat to listen properly:
They sung two songs through and we were feeling suitably awed. Until they did their sales pitch for their CDs that they were selling from the front pew in the church...
Back out in the sunshine we were greeted by a the lovely old medievil town that is Carcasonne, within the walls.
We took the guidebook's recommended route through the various streets, passing many touristy but lovely boutique shops full of things you don't really need and/or can't afford and/or couldn't transport home anyway. But all beautifully presented and often smelling beautiful/yummy.
Then we headed over the entrance to the 'castle within a castle'
We had to queue for some time to get our ticket (the first and only time you have to spend money to see something) and put up with listening to the arrogant young English chaps in the queue behind us for too long... (sorry to be negative but they just had some smart ass remark or other for everything that happened/was said around them and seemed to think that because they had all enjoyed the benefit of learning French in school that that made them far superior to all the other tourists who were trying their best - including us!).
ANYWAY teeth grinding experience over we headed to over to enjoy exploring the castle.
Greg pushed all the 'if you'd like to hear more about...' buttons on the audioguide.
Scale model of Carcasonne! Some poor dude's life work right there.
On the ramparts surrounding the castle.
Nice views!
Peek a Boo!
The stunning views were probably the best bit! The castle itself was interesting to explore but didn't make for interesting photos.
After we finished in there, as usual, it was getting rather late for lunch and we were starting to wilt in the heat. I'd previously mapped out a place in New Carcasonne that was recommended for lunch, but in the moment I couldn't be bothered going all the way back down there, when there were so many nice eateries right here in Carcasonne.
We knew they would be overpriced and not as good as elsewhere, but how back can it be? We wondered.
Well Greg did alright. I basically ate straight sodium disguised as various types of food. The worst thing in the heat!
Mine was a cassoulet. I'm sure it would have tasted good if the top of the salt shaker hadn't fallen off when the chef was seasoning the dish... however there was a leg of duck in there and I must say the meat was nice as long as it didn't get too much of the rest of it on it. Greg seemed pretty happy with his Large Sausage and Chips but we both knew that as far as eating in France was concerned, this was poor indeed. Sorry to rag on the English some more but we suspected that this restaurant was trying to cater to the English tourists?
Ah yes, the Redeeming Feature of the meal. They had Ile Flotantte. All is (almost) forgiven!
Another wee wander and we decided to call it a day. Lunch already a distant nightmare, we enjoyed the photo ops provided by the view as you leave Carcasonne.
We still had about an hour before our train so we mooched about a bit in New Carcasonne (it's not really called that).
*Jane's postcard posting adventure in Carcasonne*
I had post office success at last! You may recall me saying somewhere back in Turkey that I had written some postcards? Well I finally managed to post them! We found the la Poste and I got out my phrasebook to the 'postage' pages then bravely went inside. I was recalling the confusion and unfriendly postage staff back in Greece in 2009 and was prepared for anything!
Well crap. I'd figured out how to say I wanted to post two postcards to New Zealand, but... who the heck did I say it to? There was about four or five different kinds of counter strewn haphazardly about the room all with different French words hanging above them, . Frantically I started trying to look up the names in my little dictionary.
"Bonjour? *blurble in french*" from a nice French man who I can still only assume worked there and wasn't just being nice to the panicking foreigner.(For the cynics amongst you, Greg was with me the entire time, obviously my boyfriend).
"Bonjour, pardon, je ne comprends pas, parlez-vous anglais?" Becoming my standard response when I know that just saying "oui" and smiling won't suffice.
"Oh, a little" The usual French response. In his case, it was an accurate observation. Not that it mattered, it was easy enough to communicate what I wanted. I'm standing in a post office, with two postcards, addressed to New Zealand. I probably could have communicated effectively what I needed just by showing him the cards and burping out nursery rhymes.
Nice French man checked with a Postal Lady about something then led me to a machine. The machine weighs the postcards, you push some buttons (Nice French man pushed the buttons as the instructions were all in French), you put in a minuscule amount of money and voila! Your stamps are printed.
He pointed at the pictures of Turkey on the cards and said "Oh long way! Big trip?"
"Oui, big trip!"
(I love attempts to have friendly conversation when language is limited! So much laughing and smiling and always the underlying concern that you and the other person are talking about completely different things... kind of like talking to a confused patient with no voice because of their tracheostomy in the ICU.)
Nice French man gave the postcards to Postal Lady and assured me it was all sorted. So Mum and Dad if you don't get your postcards in a few weeks it's Nice French Man's fault not mine ok?
I also bought new postcards so that I can do another round soon. IF you want me to send you a postcard you really should email/facebook me your address, even if you think I already have it.
Back at Carcasonne station, after a long hot day. I was so dozey that Greg was able to dress me up in his hat Fresh Prince of Bel Air style and take a photo.
Back at Narbonne we did all of the pre-planned hoofing to get our bags. We arrived back at the station with probably just enough time to catch the 18:09 train to Sete if we ran, but we decided to take it easy and wait for the 18:31 train. In hindsight, it was a poos call.
It arrived on time and we clambered on. And waited. The board said a delay of 5mins. Then ten minutes. Then one hour. When it said two hours I knew it before Greg checked the boards because the lady over the speaker had said *blurble in French du heure" and a digusted responding mutter of "du heure" had gone around the carriage followed by many passengers getting on their celphone or abandoning ship.
By the time it finally left, we looked like this:
And the sun was here:
By the time we arrived in Sete, the sun was here:
...but it was quite pretty.
It was another hoof from the station to the hotel, but eventually, we made it, in the dark.
At long last we found a bed! Exhausted and not hungry, we skipped tea and hit the sack!
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