What Was the Fate of Cathar Towns and Castles During the Albigensian Crusade?
–Learn of the tragic end of Carcassonne’s defender, Raymond-Roger Trencavel in dungeons under the city walls and the banishment of his Cathar followers.
–Understand the connection between the Cathar chateau of Puivert, and the Troubador Court of Love.
–Discover the hidden hill of Sainte Juliane with its mysterious open marble crypts and burned ki-engraved stones of a ruined church tower.
–Evoke the scene of 145 Cathars of Minerve who walked singing into the darting flames of a high pyre rather than convert.

P.S. There are 10 other intriguing titles in the Kindle ‘Medieval Gnostics’ series to explore!

*Excerpted from the paperback version of ‘The Trail of Gnosis‘.

What Was the Fate of Cathar Towns and Castles During the Albigensian Crusade?
–Learn of the tragic end of Carcassonne’s defender, Raymond-Roger Trencavel in dungeons under the city walls and the banishment of his Cathar followers.
–Understand the connection between the Cathar chateau of Puivert, and the Troubador Court of Love.
–Discover the hidden hill of Sainte Juliane with its mysterious open marble crypts and burned ki-engraved stones of a ruined church tower.
–Evoke the scene of 145 Cathars of Minerve who walked singing into the darting flames of a high pyre rather than convert.

P.S. There are 10 other intriguing titles in the Kindle ‘Medieval Gnostics’ series to explore!

*Excerpted from the paperback version of ‘The Trail of Gnosis‘.

Question: What is 150’ in diameter, weights 80 tons, carries 60 scientists, a cannon, a big rooster, an escape pod for women, and makes transcontinental flights?

Answer: nothing.

And so: what is ten times bigger, and carries ten times more people? Bigger but still the same nothing–though a more-magnificent nothingness.

The first example did however live in print as the great balloon La Minerve, the  prankish gesture of the Belgian optico-magician, physics experimenter/exhibitionist and general experimenter (and probable crumbun) “Dr. Roberston”, who was actually Étienne-Gaspard Robert (1763-1837). Robert did have vast experience with balloons—he was Commandant des Aerostiers during the war, serving under General Jourdain in Belgium and Holland in 1803/4, providing valuable observations on the enemy troops and movements from tethered (and not) balloon observing stations; he is also regarded by some as the inventor of the parachute. He had a wide interested in optics and toys, making a very profitable tour with Brewster mirrors, demonstrating all manner of specters and floating bodies and such for a paying audience.

He came up with this sci-fi-ish idea in the early 19^th century, and published his dream broadsided swipe at other aeronauts in 1820 under the title of La Minerve, vaisseau aérien, destiné aux découvertes et proposé à toutes les Académies de l’Europe par le physicien Robertson. There was nothing about this balloon that would’ve worked, and Robertson knew it…  read more

ART: Christian Hetzel

Engagé

Making dreams come true — for example operating a self-catering vacation home in sublime Languedoc in the south of France — requires self-determination, communications skills, and an enhanced appreciation for human needs and culture.

Oh, and vision too. So what’s so difficult about that?

For the visitor to the dream, of course, it looks easy and seamless. That’s the nature of the art. But for the dream makers, it can be a long road of hard work and a constant commitment to ideals.

At the end of one of those roads, I found Susan and Tim — again.

Hither and yon

Now right off the bat, I need to let you know that Susan, Tim, and I are old friends; actually Susan and I have known each other since we were six years old, and we have been down some bumpy roads together.

We’ve been hither and yon, in many senses of the word, and over a half century, our lives have crisscrossed in some very interesting ways — a story I’ll leave for another time.

But then, we lost each other for about six years. Furthermore, Canada Post almost erased our long relationship when a letter Susan sent to me at my last known address was returned in error with the curt message “No longer at this address.” But thanks to Mr. Google and Susan’s obstinacy — and a little bit of concern that she offended me somehow — she tracked me down, and as they say, “Voilà!” There we were, together once again in Oupia — retracing our tracks.

Oupia? A blissful French village in the ancient region of Languedoc, and the ultimate escape from the hurly burly of the current century.

Layers of history in Languedoc

Where to begin? That is the delightful dilemma not only in Oupia but in the much larger context in which this little community is so ideally located. You may wish to begin by looking at France via the terrific Via Michelin website.

Zoom in on the south of the country (also called Le Midi.) Look to your left, west of Provence and the Côte d’Azur (which many people erroneously call The Riviera.) Zoom in a bit further until you see the eclectic cultural centres of Toulouse, Montpellier (Paris without the pressure), and Perpignan to the south.

Note the mountain range to the north (la Montagne Noire), part of the Massif Central, the high plain in the middle of the country. Note also the strategic mountain range to the south, the elegant Pyrénées which form the natural boundary and defence mechanism that has kept France and Spain separate and distinct since the beginning of European civilization.

With a little more digital dexterity, you can also find the Canal du Midi, an engineering marvel that solves the problem of “How are we going to get our stuff from the Atlantic by boat to the Mediterranean without going through the straits of Gilbraltar?” (It’s also a UNESCO World Heritage Site.) Note also the ancient medieval walled city of Carcassonne, one of those once-in-a-lifetime-if-you’re-lucky places to visit. See how close you are to the sea? A little more zooming and you will see the long stretches of beaches, sand dunes, and marshes. Unfortunately at this point in time Via Michélin doesn’t let you see the flocks of flamingos that gather on the coastline like a chorus of pink ballerinas; but I’m sure they’re working on it.

Now look a bit to the right of Carcassonne and there just off the autoroute is tiny Oupia minding its own business.

Now consider this: where could you go within the space of a couple of hours and be home in time for an apéritif? Get my point?

And now some more geographical stuff. Languedoc is one of the former traditional provinces of the kingdom of France. They weren’t officially provinces, just administrative units with no political structures; territories defined by custom and tradition and of course local dialects. The language of Languedoc was Occitan. Langue means language. Get it? Langue d’Oc.

Oh, and oc means “yes.”

Being such loosely organized regions, it wasn’t all that difficult therefore for the King of France to eventually bring them under his royal wing. Today the general area is classified under a broad category as the Languedoc-Roussillon region. And… Oupia is also located in L’Hérault (capital city Montpellier), one of the original 83 départements created on March 4, 1790 during the French Revolution when the whole nation was being transformed and royal heads were going to Heaven or Hell in hand baskets. And to expand further on the geographic fine points, Oupia is also in the tourist region of Le Minervois (named after the very important city of Minerve). Le Minervois is a terre de contrastes, daring to straddle the two départements of L’Hérault and L’Aude.

And like the whole of Languedoc-Roussillon, Le Minervois is an enormously complex area historically and culturally. Topographically, it may initially look a bit like Provence, but on closer examination you will see that it has a much more subtle Mediterranean look and feel. Wild and wooly in places, calm and pastoral in others, Le Minervois is the focal point for the the entire area; a fact borne out by its connections to the rest of France via the Autoroute des Deux Mers (of the two seas) and the TGV (train de grande vitesse). And whether you are visiting Languedoc-L’Hérault-Le Minervois by automobile, bicycle, on foot, or even by houseboat, Oupia is just over there.

In modern times, the coastal Mediterranean area that is still referred to as Languedoc has been somewhat overlooked from the point of view of tourism, but it is no stranger to visitors. The area was settled and occupied by Greeks, Phoenicians, and Romans. I’ll leave it to you to imagine what archeological treasures and cultural influences you will still see here. And Languedoc was also rudely invaded by the Alamanni, Vandals, Visigoths, and Saracens. In the 12th century, it became the centre of the “heretical” (at least in the eyes of the Roman Catholic Church) Cathar religious movement. You will learn more about them and the genocide that they suffered, during what was known as the Albigensian Crusade, when you visit the ancient and very poignant Cathar capital of Minerve. More lessons in history repeating itself; atrocities perpetrated in the good name of religion.

The Cathars believed that a divine light existed within the core of humanity but that it had been held captive by a corrupt material world created by a lesser deity. This lesser deity they claimed was the god that most people of the time worshipped, in essence an imposter. The real divine light or true creativity — the real human essence — was trapped in the flawed physical realm and overruled by corrupt minions. Well you can imagine what the powers that be, ecclesiastical and regal, thought of that. Believing also that reincarnation was a distinct possibility, the Cathars also believed that their struggle for ultimate spiritual freedom would be an ongoing one that would not end in their current mortal incarnation. With an emphasis therefore on the individual’s having some control over his or her eternal destiny, Catharism started to gain ground. It was becoming a popular new understanding of the meaning of life, and consequently a major threat to the more hierarchical church. It was about choices. And it eventually was about silencing the heretics.

Today Languedoc still has a quiet spirit of self-determination. It is also one of the least-discovered areas of France where life is placid, the people benevolent, the landscape unspoiled, and the cuisine exquisite. And this is what Susan and Tim discovered.

Nuclear energy in Oupia

Don’t get excited; it’s not what you think. What Susan and Tim have rediscovered is the quiet, subtle energy that lies at the heart of the village — the real nucleus of human society. How many times have we heard aphorisms such as “The only real change occurs in the village,” or “It takes a village to raise a child, ” or even the oft-repeated references to “the global village”? Such clichéd expressions enter our consciousness (and perhaps suffer from verbal overexposure) but it is because there is inherent truth in them. They communicate in very simple language very simple concepts — but also common sense and ideals. As I too rediscovered, the “simple life” in Oupia does not mean a simplistic existence, nor is it a one-dimensional experience. Au contraire mon cher.

Like the pearl in the oyster, life in Oupia (not to mention other similar towns in southern France I have visited) is a process, not an event, and the result of unseen subtle forces that require time and privacy to make magic. And in this tiny medieval village, there is a distinct timelessness experienced not through cognitive powers but through the senses — like inhaling the permeating scent of wildflowers in the fields around the town.

And on a hill just outside Oupia stand tall, elegant, and pure white structures, their arms turning slowly in great powerful arcs in unison with natural forces. Yes folks; we’re talking wind power! What a metaphor, and how appropriate to this unspoiled area of France. These great machines are definitely not to be tilted with; it would be a contradiction of terms. I’m sure Quixote would have found them quite landscape-friendy. I did, however, get the impression that the locals took them for granted — some even objected to their presence — but each time I ventured out of Oupia to discover some new gem, I would look forward to coming “home” to Oupia and being welcomed by the gentle giants. Maybe that’s just my urban reverie and stress-sensitive psyche talking. Or maybe not.

Popping down to the local château for a Minervois Blanc

As small as it is, the village of Oupia has several focal points: the tiny town square, the cemetery overlooking the vineyards that surround the town, and the Château d’Oupia.

Also dating from the 12th century, Oupia’s château was the property of the seigneurs of Oupia and has been a family business since 1860. The current occupant of the château and proprietor of the business is a very gentle man by the name of André Iché. With his small team of employees and other family members, he produces wines that you will want to import, let alone savour with a delightful Minervois déjeuner sur l’herbe of local cheeses, pâtés, and other delicacies. The château’s 59 hectares (35 devoted to the A.O.C. appellation Minervois and 24 to vin de table et pays) produce award-winning and delicate wines at excellent prices. What is especially delightful is dropping by the chateau, as I did, for a chat with Monsieur Iché and his rather shy wife, and picking up something nice to go with the cheeses and other goodies Susan spends so much time choosing on market day.

And in Oupia, as it is in most of France, market day is a village affair, a ritual, an aesthetic adventure, and for the visitor, a chance to become even more acclimatized to Oupia, and the vaguely remembered way of life it offers the visitor.

Market day and other rituals

Susan takes me to Market Day in Olonzac. I carry one of the shopping containers and juggle my camera and micro recorder while following her around (at least initially) like a young kid on his first big trip “downtown.” Before long however, I find myself engaged in conversation with customers and vendors alike, a free-flowing communication that has none of the perfunctory “Have a nice day” tone or lack of substance I try to avoid in the marketplace back home. This village market — like all “farmer’s markets” around the world — especially in rural France, is a microcosm of human society and of the idealized global village.

It is a weekly reconnecting mechanism for the locals, a comfortable ritual of unhurried chatter, bisous hello and goodbye (the very French light kiss on both cheeks), street theatre in which the players, sets, setting, and roles are so closely intermingled that everyone is fully engaged in the “play.” It is an eons-old social event that creates cohesion and trust, and gets the business at hand done. And the fact that it is all about food and neighbourly nurturing gives the play its theme — the reaffirmation of human civilization.

When we evolved from the hunter gatherer stage and settled primarily into an agricultural lifestyle, the next natural step was to establish the communal marketplace where human commerce began through bartering this for that. The people in this village market still live with and from the land, exchanging what they have once a week, and making a good living. And they talk about their produce, their cheeses, olives,organic bread, and whatever else has or has not happened in the last week. Food and language.

And oh the food! Real food! You buy the honey from the man who keeps the bees. The vegetable seller offers her produce as if she were asking you to admire her children. The chèvre probably comes from a nanny goat you have cycled past in the field. Being a suddenly sensitized urbanite, I don’t want to know about the veal or the pâtés.

Now this may sound like a bit of a stretch, but stay with me. In a recent speech I heard, a guru of travel trends outline in very clear and logical language (with appropriate stats), how and why the travel industry has been revolutionized, thanks to a great extent by the Internet. He defined specific ways in which the consumers have taken back control of the products and services they buy. The number one issue is the “personalized travel experience.”

Travel consumers today, like all consumers, are designing their own travel itineraries to fit their particular needs, for the most part online. And they choose travel products and services that are personalized to their tastes. And guess who in the very problematic airline industry is getting the business from these folks? The low-cost carriers, especially those who have re-created a culture of personalization and a return to a real dialogue with the customer. Well I’ll be darned.

Isn’t that just like the village market in Olonzac!

Lunch à la minervoise in Cathar country

Lunch in Minerve at the Relais Chantovent (Windsong Inn) on one of the town’s narrow winding streets was once again a taste of a culture that values food as an art form. And contiguous to that art form are the arts of décor and history. It is of course ironic, if not incongruous, that we should be dining so well in the town that witnessed a massacre and a genocide. However, one of the redeeming features of tragic history may be that some of the most beautiful and spectacular settings where turbulent events occurred are preserved and enhanced for the living; lest we forget. Walking the streets of this medieval town perched on a high rocky outcrop sculpted by millennial forces and the river in the gorge below, it is obvious why Minerve became the capital of the Cathars and their final retreat. It isn’t just the views of Minerve from across the valley as well as outward from the heart of the town that create a profound perspective, it is the sense of timelessness in the place.

For more information on this special place click here.

For more on the Relais Chantovent. click here

Recycling in Oupia

OK, I know I’m playing word games again here, but try to follow my thought process. Susan and Tim are avid cyclists and have been for quite a few years. Like yours truly, they are a couple d’un certain âge, but the passage of time, while not insignificant, is not a big deal. They both have the long lean look of passionate cyclists, those physical role models you see bent into the wind as they move silently and with grace along the side of the road. And they brought their cycling values with them when they moved to France; to what has to be one of the most cyclist-friendly areas of the world.

And if you come to stay, you will be offered one of their “breakaway” bikes hanging patiently in the garage, which is actually an old wine-pressing workshop (pressoir). But don’t worry; they won’t force them upon you nor make you feel slothful if all you really want to do — as I did — is amble about the narrow lanes and alleyways of Oupia enjoying the délices of the town. Susan and Tim are passionate about cycling, but they’re not fanatical.

My point here is that in Oupia and the Minerve, you have choices, other modes of locomotion that will allow you to get up close and personal with the landscape and the people. And you will find that you will have little difficulty re-adjusting your rhythms to Oupia time and Oupia space.

Susan and Tim’s passions are quiet ones, unobtrusive, almost imperceptible. Susan has a flair for hospitality and the decorative arts: the careful décor she has achieved in Lou Récantou and L’Ancien Pressoir demonstrates her Minervois feng shui and emphasizes the harmony and balance reflected in the landscape of Languedoc.

In a quiet chat one evening, Tim and I reflected on our educational and professional careers and how each ultimately proved quite secondary to the real vocations we eventually found. When it comes to the art and craft of design and renovation, Tim is the quintessential homme à tout faire. Quiet spoken but forthright (deeds speak) he also has a common sense vision and understanding of what really should go where and how to go about doing it. The evidence of course is the entire property which has structurally been transformed to the highest standards but has also remained faithful to the local architectural culture.

But if you are a cyclist, Tim and Susan are prepared for you. If you are an ambler or a rambler, they will also help you plan your serene activities on foot through the countryside.

Along the Canal du Midi

It may surprise you, as it did me, how much European history is within easy reach of Oupia. The Canal du Midi, tangible evidence of Mediterranean empire-building, is today a delightful day’s outing. Or if you are a lazy barger (no offense), you may wish to turn the outing into a multi-day excursion.

For more information on the Canal du Midi, click here .

If boating or barging on the canal strikes your fancy, click here or here.

As if it were yesterday

As we have done for more than half a century, Susan and I sat down to chat — about life in Oupia. Some things never change, thank goodness. The time and the context can vary but the fundamental issues and values remain. And as the clock that Susan has carried with her through all her peregrinations chimed softly in the background during our chat — resonance of time and space — it was a a gentle reminder of time well-spent.

To listen to our chat about the nearby Mediterranean city of Montpellier, click on the link below.

How to find Susan and Tim

Visit their website at Lou Récantou and L’Ancien Pressoir .

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Sweet market sounds

Market day in Olonzac is a multi-sensory experience. For anyone who loves France, there probably is no more Proustian sound than an accordion being played in the street. I met and spoke with Marek, a expat from Flanders who lives and plays in marketplaces and other venues in the south of France where he came for “le soleil” — the sun.

To hear a bit of Marek’s music click on the link below.

•

Recommended excursions from Oupia

There are so many, but these are a few of my favourites, all within easy driving distance of Oupia.

(a) Minerve

(b) Carcassonne

(c) Narbonne

(d) Montpelier

(e) The Pyrénées

(f) Toulouse

(g) Nîmes

(h) Arles

(i) And if you like horses and wish to see Languedoc under saddle, I heartily recommend Pont de Calmel, about 20 minutes from Oupia.

For more images of Oupia and environs click on the link below

“Once Upon a Gîte in Languedoc”

Recommended websites

For additional information on the area, consult Découvrir L’Hérault

For more information on the extensive network of gîtes in France, see Gïtes de France.

shit it works!

for the ones who-re whores;

-high pitched emotions

-my universe

-there is nothing

-epilog

Drei erfolgreiche Alben-Veröffentlichungen konnte die Band seit ihrer Gründung 2002 verbuchen. Darunter zählen auch zahlreiche Single-Auskopplungen, zuletzt erschien die veröffentlichte Single „Take me higher“ (DAC Charts / Bullet, Platz 22).
Ihre Konzertreisen führten die Band nicht nur durch ganz Deutschland, sondern auch nach Osteuropa. Die enorme positive Resonanz erhöhte nicht nur den Beliebtheitsgrad der Band in Osteuropa, sondern ermöglichte auch die Durchführung der bis dato umfangreichsten Tour in der Bandgeschichte.

Ein Meilenstein in der Bandgeschichte war gleichfalls die Nominierung und Auszeichnung beim Deutschen Rock & Pop Preis in der Kategorie “Elektro Pop 2005″ durch den Deutschen Rock & Pop Verband.

Derzeit arbeiten Daniel, Mathias und Andreas gezielt an ihrem neuen Album. Erste Songs sind im Mastering und vielleicht hören wir die ersten Pre-Listenings schon auf dem SummerSummit Open Air? Lasst euch überraschen!

Weitere Infos rund um Minerve erfahrt ihr hier:

www.myspace.com/minerveband
www.minerve.de

1/ Que penses-tu du frailledèh ouhère sur le lieu de travail ?

[Friday wear (ou casual day) = tenue décontractée autorisée en entreprise le vendredi, par opposition aux autres jours de la semaine où les employés sont contractuellement tenus de s’étrangler avec leur nœud de cravate.]

L’agence dans laquelle je suis retenue prisonnière n’est pas pratiquante. Mais j’en profite pour élaborer une taxinomie des codes vestimentaires en vigueur.

Groupe 1 _ Les visuellement agréables

Un jour, j’ai vu le contrôleur de gestion partir en courant à la pause déjeuner. “Ca fait combien de jours que t’as pas mangé ?” j’ai demandé. “Arrrrgh, j’ai pas le temps de manger”, il m’a répondu en s’éloignant. “C’est les soldes de presse chez Paul&Joe”.

Si le contrôleur de gestion est une fashion victim, je vous laisse imaginer le look d’aK, la graphiste.

Groupe 2 _ Les visuellement désagréables

Leur chef de file s’appelle La mèche. Polo pastel, mèche blonde, il fait semblant d’aimer NTM mais en réalité, il a une passion pour les boutons de manchette vendus en mercerie. Sa tenue n’est pas seulement le reflet de sa personnalité ; c’est une technique d’agression dirigée contre le groupe 1.

Groupe 3 _ Les visuellement neutres

Ce sont ceux qui n’ont pas le temps de se poser des questions sur leur apparence, parce qu’ils ont d’autres sujets de préoccupation (comme optimiser leur to do list sur tableau excel, par exemple)

Groupe 4 _ Minerve

La tragédie, en ce qui concerne Minerve, c’est qu’elle adore la mode. La malheureuse. Elle suit à la lettre les conseils des magazines. Alors quand elle lit « Le carreau, c’est trendy », elle y va à fond : elle se transforme en William Wallace. Si Vogue titre «C’est le printemps ! Osez la couleur », elle ose. Elle ose tellement qu’à la fin de la journée, on a tous la migraine (j’ai voulu prendre une photo en douce, mais mon appareil a refusé tout net. Il s’est éteint.)

Sinon (je vous promets que je serai moins longue dans mes prochaines réponses), aK a instauré le friday-nawak. Ca veut dire que vendredi, c’est déguisement. La semaine dernière, il fallait s’habiller en marin, parce que le thème c’était “La croisière s’amuse”. La semaine prochaine c’est « Films de science-fiction ». Sont également prévus : “Bal de promo”, “Deschiens” et “Je fais ce que je veux, avec mes cheveux”.

2) Tu éprouves plus facilement des pulsions violentes envers les gros abrutis du travaillement ou envers les sales méchants du travaillement ?

Râââ, j’avais prévu de répondre de façon plus concise, mais j’ai encore une anecdote, pour illustrer mon propos.

J’ai raté la présentation de la stratégie 2009 (c’est le moment où les dirigeants nous adressent leurs vœux et nous font part de leurs objectifs pour la nouvelle année, qui sont les mêmes que pour les années précédentes, à savoir, gagner plus d’argent). La manager m’a proposé de rattraper ça lors d’un déjeuner. Je lui envoie donc un mail qui dit en substance « Le restau d’en face a changé de carte. Ils ont un nouveau menu de ouf malade !!!!!! » et en pièce jointe, je lui colle ledit menu :

• Ravioles de chèvre frais au basilic et copeaux de parmesan
• Salade chinoise craquante
• Mi-cuit de Saint-Jacques, aubergine rôtie, houmous et salade d’herbes à l’huile d’argan
• Tartare de thon rouge, ratatouille croquante au sésame noir et sauce teriyaki,
• etc.

Elle me répond :

“Non, la strat ne sort pas d’ici, dej en salle de réunion avec projection”.

La manager, elle croit que des gouvernements étrangers veulent subtiliser la stratégie de l’agence à des fins de chantage diplomatique.

Alors, je lance un appel : si qui que soit s’intéresse à ce power point, qu’il me contacte, bordel, je suis prête à le vendre, moi.

(Pour répondre à la question : les abrutis, définitivement, je hais les abrutis.)

3) Penses-tu que le gras soit à long terme le meilleur moyen de se débarrasser de ses collègues ennemis ?

Je suis plutôt pro-ulcère. Le gras peut mettre des années avant d’étouffer le cœur. L’ulcère, c’est mieux. Evidemment, la rupture d’anévrisme, ce serait l’idéal.

4) A priori, un mec qui te parle de sexualité alors que tu voudrais lui parler de dentifrice mérite une punition. Laquelle ?

J’ai développé une technique de self-défense :

• je tire la gueule toute la journée,
• y a un écriteau «Dégagez » posé sur mon bureau,
• et collègue boxeur m’a offert un T-shirt « I’m not crazy. I just have issues».

Ca dissuade déjà pas mal. Pour ceux qui insisteraient, je fais de la gym suédoise, je peux briser au moins des orteils avec un entrainement pareil.

5) Dans un open-space, une seule personne a mis son portable sur Sonnerie naze Forte et Polyphonique, alors que tous les autres sont sur vibreur. Peux-tu établir une règle mathématique qui permet de repérer d’avance le gros relou en question, d’un seul regard tel le ninJAH analyste ?

Aaaah, malheureusement, les propriétaires de sonnerie nuisibles sont invisibles à l’œil nu.

Il y a une jolie chef de projet en face de moi, avec de grands yeux de chat, de longs cils noirs et des bouclettes dans les cheveux. Elle a fait une thèse sur Heidegger. En guise de sonnerie, elle a enregistré un vrai chiot qui pleure (pendant des semaines, j’ai cru que le directeur de clientèle séquestrait des animaux dans son placard). A chaque fois qu’elle met du temps à décrocher, j’ai envie de lui faire manger Introduction à la métaphysique.

Voilà. J’ai fini. Avant d’aller regarder la Nouvelle Star, je perpétue le forfait et tague à mon tour Nacara, Tehanor et Titiou (qui n’a jamais mis un pied en entreprise mais qui a une imagination débordante).

Montpellier ist nicht nur in unmittelbarer Strandnähe sondern auch ein idealer Ausgangspunkt für Ausflüge in faszinierende und kulturbeladene Städte des Languedoc-Roussillon.

Béziers 
Die Altstadt um die Kathedrale St-Nazaire wurde vor einigen Jahren neu restauriert. Besonders interessant sind das Stadttheater und das Plateau des Poètes – ein Garten im englischen Stil. Neuen Schwung erreichte Béziers im 18. Jh. als Pierre-Paul Riquet seine Heimatstadt durch den Canal du Midi mit der Mittelmeerküste und dem Atlantik verband. Béziers ist heute ein wichtiges kulturelles Zentrum im Departement Hérault.

Umgebung: Canal du Midi, Abtei von Fontcaude, Oppidum d’Enserune

Carcassonne
 Carcassonne wurde auf einem Hügel am Fluss Aude gegründet. Im 19. Jh. machte der Schriftsteller und damalige Inspektor für Denkmalschutz Prosper Mérimée die Öffentlichkeit auf den historischen Wert von Carcassonne aufmerksam. Viollet-le-Duc restaurierte nicht nur die doppelte Außenbefestigung und das Chateau Comtal von Carcassonne, sondern auch die Basilika St-Nazaire und mehrere Häuser in der Cité.

Die Burg von Carcassonne zählt laut UNESCO zu den bedeutendsten Kulturdenkmäler der Welt und gehört zu den meistbesuchten Städten Frankreichs.

Minerve
 Das kleine Städchen Minerve liegt in den Corbières zwischen den Schluchten Gorge de la Cesse und Gorge de Brian am Rande des Departements Hérault. In der Luft liegt ein wundervoller Duft von Rosmarin, Thymian oder Salbei. Ganz in der Nähe der Canal du Midi. Bei der Ankunft in Minerve trinken die Ausflügler ein letztes Glas im “Café de la Plaça”, während die Alten auf den von der Sonne vorgewärmten Steinbänken sitzen: Willkommen im Languedoc-Roussillon.

Narbonne
Narbonne war eine der ersten Städte, die von den Römern in Gallien gegründet wurden. Durch die Umleitung eines Aude-Nebenflusses bekam Narbonne einen Zugang zum Meer. Die Via Domitia führte ebenfalls durch Narbonne. Narbonne war in der Antike Hauptsitz der Provincia Narbonesis und ein wichtiges Hafen- und Handelszentrum. Narbonne gehört zum Departement Aude und ist heute berühmt für seine Architektur und seinen Weinhandel.

Umgebung: Abbaye de Fontfroide, Reserve Africaine, Montagne de la Clape, Etang de Bages et de Sigean, Gouffre de l’Oeil Doux. 
Umliegende Strände: Narbonne-Plage, Gruissan-Plage, Port-la-Nouvelle, Les Cabanes de Fleury…

Nîmes
 Nîmes ist eine der ältesten und schönsten Städte Frankreichs. Nîmes investiert viel in sein Stadtbild. Außer den großen repräsentativen Gebäuden wie Carré d’Art werden auch den “Details” genügend Achtung geschenkt – selbst die Bushaltestellen erschuf der Stardesigner Philippe Starck.

Perpignan
 Die Gründung von Perpignan ist eng verbunden mit dem Bau der Via Domitia. Sehenswürdigkeiten von Perpignan sind die alte Kirche Saint-Jean-le-Vieux, die Kathedrale Saint-Jean-Baptiste und die Zitadelle mit prächtigem Palast. Der Palast der Könige von Mallorca ist eine der wichtigsten Hauptsehenswürdigkeiten der Stadt. 

Joe and I had been feeling particularly pleased with ourselves because we’d cycled there from the flat plains below, but my tyre had started to deflate so he phoned his wife. Would she like a break with the kids in Minerve? Not a lot, as it turned out but it was a nice day so she came anyway, plus pump. Minerve is an old Cathar town up in the gorges of the Montaigne Noir with a spectacular drop into the dried river bed way down below. In fact the Cathars, who held out against the crusade by the Pope (check the Albigensian crusades) had been burned and their bodies thrown into the gorge. There’s an old stone plaque commemorating the act outside the Mairie.

Our other co-cyclist John, an American painter, who couldn’t make it this day, had been the instigator of this drive for fitness after seeing his doctor for a health check. John, no stranger to good wine, found that that he had high cholesterol and more worrying for him, a problem with his liver function. Oddly, this seemed to come as some surprise and, suitably shocked, he started out on the ‘first day of the rest of his life’. This meant giving up drink entirely, which he’s managed now for 2 months and, if you knew how much he enjoyed his support system, you’d be seriously impressed, and cycling , (swimming when the weather doesn’t allow) every other day. So far he’s managed it, and we pretend to come along to keep him company, though sadly we need the exercise just as much, we just haven’t had the nerve to take the health check.

Luckily it’s so beautiful here that it does distract from the pain of climbing those hills. My girlfriend came out with us once and we stopped after ten minutes or so of climbing. The sky was blue, the air warm and scented with pine. Down below we could see the flash of silver where the river Aude snaked between the trees and vineyards. “We’re living in a picture” she laughed. I frowned “That’s a great name!”

Unbelievably no-one had registered livinginapicture.com so now we have it. Of course we’ve done nothing with it but we will, we will….

Anyway, sitting in the sun, outside a bar in an old French medieval town perched above a sheer drop to a gorge below, you can feel pretty unconnected and unaffected by the problems of the world. But that’s a false sense of security. Even here, a few centuries ago, without modern communications or transport, death and destruction came from far away. The Cathars may have thought it unlikely, what would it matter if they practiced their own brand of worship here in this isolated place, Rome was a world away, nothing would happen. But warnings were ignored, lines were crossed and wheels put in motion. It took months, and in some places years but it was unstoppable. “By The Pricking Of My Thumbs, Something Wicked This Way Comes”, a line from Macbeth, a book by Ray Bradbury and an apt phrase for what happened here and all over the Languedoc and Corbierres region of France in the Middle Ages.

So here we are in the 21st century global village. What does it matter if the current most powerful country on earth elects a religious fundamentalist to be the person one heartbeat away from the hot seat? We thought about this in the little village of Minerve and these were the thoughts we bounced around and this is the conclusion we came to.

If a religious fundamentalist, any type of religious fundamentalist, comes to power anywhere, there’s a reasonable chance that a clash with other nations can be seen as a battle between right and wrong, good and evil, especially if that person believes their country has a special place in God’s plan. And what if that person believes we’re living in the end times, playing out the last few years of a biblical prophecy?

Don’t worry, It’ll never happen…..and anyway, they’ll never come here?

In the past couple weeks, we’ve explore a decent swath of the area, and here’s a little overview of where we’ve wandered.

Adge, Cap d’Adge & Sete – in search of the quintessential Mediterranean beach town

On our first “road trip”, from Roquebrun we drove down to the shore towns of Adge, Cap d’Adge and up the coast to Sête.  Adge didn’t appeal to us at all, so we hurried on to Cap d’Adge which reminded my of Myrtle Beach.  Take that comparison as you will.  Sête, though, we liked.  We arrived on the late side of lunch on a rainy, cold Sunday.  We found a cafe that had outside outside (as we had Rufus with us) covered by a tent and warmed by heaters.  I ordered the fish soup and Tim ordered the grilled sardines.  By the time we were done, the rain had subsided so we walked about the town.  It’s a place we want to visit again, especially on a sunny afternoon.  I don’t have any pictures from that trip.  It’s just as well.  It was a gray day, and the pictures wouldn’t have done the place justice.

Tim’s hunting for a version of Capri in the Southwest of France before it was “discovered”.  It’s good to dream.

Olargues

A couple days after our trek along the coast, we drove to Olargues, a medieval town we’d been told is one of the prettiest villages in the area.  We made the mistake of not getting lunch in St. Pons-de-Thomiéres en route to Olargues.  St. Pons looked like an interesting place, but they were doing some road work, so we decided to able it for another day and motor on to Olargues which we reached by about 2:30.  Only to find that we found were about 30 minutes too late to get fed.  Only one cafe was open, and they put the kibosh on even ordering a ham sandwich.  Peeved, we walked around nonetheless, although truth be told I had a little chip on my shoulder.  We kept passing cafes that looked inviting but were closed. In the high season, the town is probably less strict about serving lunch only between 12 and 2.  Still, grudges aside, Olargues IS very pretty, as the pix prove.

Capestang

Our first foray into a village along the Canal du Midi.  (Besides Beziers which we kind of consider to be home turf.)

We couldn’t get into the church that dominates the town square, because it was locked up.  One thing I’ve noticed is that many of the churches do not have door handles on the outside.  When they’re closed, they’re closed.  Instead we walked up to the canal, enjoyed a coffee, at the bar, and boat watched. 

You can rent a canal boat — the kind you can eat/sleep/shower on for a day, a weekend or a week, and sail from town to town along the canal. We pondered which friends and family members with whom we could be on a boat for several days, without either party wanting to mutiny.  Let’s just say there’s a short list.

As with so many towns and villages, there isn’t necessarily a lot to do in Capestang.  Although there’s not much in the way of action, there’s plenty to absorb, ponder, overhear.  Unless you’re the mother duck in this last photo who has not 1 or 6 or 12 ducklings to oversee, but 16!  Sheesh!

Narbonne/Gruissan

One of my favorite towns so far, Narbonne is graceful with an edge, quirky but elegant, bustling but quiet once you step into the side streets.  We arrived too late to be able to stroll through Les Halles and we couldn’t get into the cathedral.  Instead, we dawdled in the squares, watched some men play a heated game of Boules, and took Rufus into the corner of the park where toutous ( dogs) are permitted. 

While dogs are allowed in many places they can’t go near in the states, they’re not allowed in most of the city parks. Probably because their owners don’t pick up the poo.  It’s normal for the streets of any village, even the prettiest ones, to be christened with toutou muck.  It’s a conundrum I don’t understand, but don’t spend much time on unless I have to focus on watching where I step rather than what’s all around.

Later in the afternoon we drove to the fishing village of Gruissan which is everything you want in a quiet, centuries old fishing village. 

Off the beach on the newer, more modern side of the town, all the houses sit on stilts. Tim was enthralled by some sort of windsurfing event taking place.  He noticed a wind surfing school, whereupon he let me know that I stood a good chance of becoming a weekend widow.

Cessenon

On May Day after leaving the fete at St. Nazaire, we had a picnic in Cessenon, the village we pass through every time we head south from Roquebrun.  We ignored the no dogs sign, and spread out our lunch on the square between the Mairie and the church.  This was the first church we’ve been able to enter since arriving in France.  It was dark and musty smelling, pretty much what you would expect of a building dating back to the middle ages.  We walked up to the bell tower on the opposite side of the village.  As we paused to read the description of a property for sale, the neighbor across the way motioned us over.  She warned us that the place was infested with termites. Moreover, she said, the owners were asking too much.  John and Jules (our proprieteurs) had told us that if you’re interested in a place, talk to the neighbors before contacting the immoblier (the real estate agent).  Neighbors, unlike the agency, won’t be shy about giving you the skinny, i.e. the roof is about to cave in, the place is crawling with rats, etc. This is great if you’re looking to buy; not so great if you’re trying to sell.

While walking the path near the river, we came across an enormous fig tree.  The fruit isn’t ripe, but the branches were heavy with figs-in-progress. 

Minerve/Homps

Our most recent jaunt.  Minerve was a dying town that revived itself through tourism.  I don’t know what it’s like in the summer, but on a Saturday in the beginning of May it was gorgeous — nice cafes, nice shops, not too crowded.  The village (as with most of them in the area) dates back to the middle ages.  What’s different is its perch on the edge of a gorge, an advantage that once helped it withstand a siege that lasted several months.  You can climb up to where the siege catapult still sits.  From there you get a spectacular view of the gorge, the village, the river below, the surrounding countryside.

Across from Minerve is the first of two natural bridges.  To stand beneath the bridge, Tim waded through the frigid, frigid, frigid water until he thought his feet would fall off.  I chose to stay dry, keep my feet warm, and man the camera.

It was about 4:30 in the afternoon, when we left Minerve and moved on towards Olonzac where we stopped to have a coffee, and finally to the village of Homps along the Canal du Midi.  More and more I find myself drawn to the pace, the places, the scene along the canal. Definitely want to spend more time in this area.

A la prochaine!

]]> http://dolmen.wordpress.com/2008/02/08/necropolis-at-bois-bas/ Fri, 08 Feb 2008 13:08:43 +0000 Richard http://dolmen.wordpress.com/2008/02/08/necropolis-at-bois-bas/ Bois Bas is a farm at the end of a narrow winding road high up on the Causse above Minerve. It’s a maze – and an amazing place. Twelve dolmens and five diaclases, or fissure tombs on less than one acre. And all in a near-trackless jungle of maquis : holm-oak, box, spiney juniper and rock. Lots of rock. Terraces and pavements and slabs and piles of blinding-white limestone – any of which might be a tomb.

The farm was bought by a co-operative or commune of ten, a year ago – they are carrying on from where the old owners left off: a big herd of goats, a handful of sheep, and some cows. They are modernising the dairy, and extending the campsite, with earth-closets. There are ensuite rooms to rent, a restaurant, a pool, and a stage for the weekly music and drama gigs. It’s ecological and not political – and while they don’t mind the odd dolmaniac turning up, they are busy and likely to get busier with the season. Park carefully, and ask for permission & directions at the main house.

The maquis covers most of this headland that slopes south of the farm towards the cliffs of the Gorges de la Cesse. Skirt two meadows and go through a gate and the low-growing woodland begins. A cart-track runs south: pass the first junction, leading off left, and continue a couple of minutes ’til you see two small piles of stones on your left. You leave the track here to enter the maquis. The owners have no wish to tart the site up, so you’ll need to sharpen up your ‘trackers’ eyes to spot the unobtrusive signs they have placed by the side of the path, and in the crooks of branches – indicating where there are ‘interesting events’. Some are no more than a jumble of rocks half-buried in the undergrowth, where a half-visible orthostat and a compass-alignment are all you have to help identify it. Others are breath-taking in their massiveness. Most are within a few paces of the main path – others lie beyond. It is easy to become disorientated as you duck and weave between the dense dwarf-oaks. And it’s easy to find yourself deep in a thicket standing on a pile of rocks that lured you on, only to leave you disappointed, and lost.

Bruno Marc has written extensively about megaliths in Languedoc-Roussillon, and he has numbered twelve here, with a further three north of the farmhouse. I only found eight this time, and five diaclases – before stumbling suddenly out of the dense maquis onto the rock-ledge above the gorge. To go from ten-metre-visibility, to 500 metres of empty air, and a drop nearly as much – is stunning. The necropolis merits a good day – so pack lunch and sit out up high on warm rock- before plunging back in for more.

For more photos, descriptions and short video – go to Bois Bas page >>

Finds recovered from the dolmens include:-
Personal ornaments and weaponry, pottery, and skeletal remains. Calcareous pearls – perles des cavernes – which are pisoliths composed by accretions of calcite around a germ of grit in running water. Ornaments made of shell; schist stones glittering with micas, hornblende, graphite and quartz; polished bone.
Arrow-heads of flint, bone and bronze.
Awls, rings, amulets and buttons in bronze
Clothing and hair pins in bronze
Large pottery items – campaniform and Verrazian
Skeletal remains: teeth, skull-bones, finger-bones

These items and documents relating to the various sites can been seen at the museum in Minerve village.

For more photos, 19th. century drawings and full text, go to Pages >>

As we motored along a small road toward Montpellier, winding our way through the valleys along the river’s edge, we discovered our Southern France ”medieval-village” saturation point. 

“What does the guidebook say about this medieval village with the stunningly beautiful fortified wall?” asks Bill.

Referring to the Rough Guide, Lynda replies, “Cathedral was built in 1254, partially destroyed by the Crusaders; bridge and defensive walls still intact; some original timbers still in place in covered medieval market place at the centre beside the 16th century fountain…”

“Want to stop?”

“If you want to.”

There is a silence – it’s the ” ho-hum, yawn, just another medieval village” pause.

“OK, let’s keep going.”

At the beginning of our trip, we stopped at almost every village “of interest” but now, with further afield destinations in mind, we have become more discriminating.

Two medieval villages, however, we particularly enjoyed were Minerve and Mirepoix. Sadly, both are known as major sites of Cathar massacres.

Minerve is a tiny fortified village built on a small island in the middle of a very deep gorge of the River Cesse. 

In 1210, about 120 Cathars fleeing from Simon de Montfort, took refuge in the town. When it was finally taken by the Catholic crusaders, rather than surrender their beliefs, the Cathars committed mass suicide by jumping into the fires built by the crusaders.  It’s all about “location, location, location” for this amazing village. It is breathtakingly beautiful.

Mirepoix is located in rolling-hills farm country. 

Built in 1290 as a stronghold for a nobleman of the Levis family,  broad-arched, colourful timber-framed houses line the perimeter of the village square.  The 14th century Maison des Consuls, originally a courthouse, prison and town council chambers, is now a hotel. 

Over 100 wooden heads or faces are carved into the end of each of the supporting beams.

The baroque cathedral of St Maurice (started in the 14th century and consecrated in 1509) looms up in the centre of the Place beside the wrought iron market hall.

 All the shop windows had beautiful displays of local products – including Mirepoix foie gras and cans of cassoulet.

On our daily excursions, we aim to get back to our gite in Mazamet before nightfall so we find ourselves on the road in the late afternoon. The southern sun is truly golden against the dramatic ultramarine blue of the Languedoc-Roussillon sky. 

The two pictures above were taken at Capestang and it’s interesting to see the mailbox outside the cemetery (?).  These wonderful flowers brighten the sometimes austere graveyards throughout the country until the first frost cuts them down.  I took a walk around the cemetery in St Chinian too and found some interesting tombs – they are not dated but I’m intrigued by the lettering and sculpted ornaments – Art Deco?The flowers were everywhere too and brightened up this somewhat sombre day.

Toussaint is also the re-opening (after vendanges and a brief rest) for a restaurant tucked away in the hills above Minerve.  The manor house of Le Bouys has belonged to the Poumeyrac family for many generations, and for some time now the family has run a restaurant on the property.  It’s a real experience, and a very pleasurable one at that!

On the business card it says Ferme Auberge and there is still a farm;  geese, ducks and chickens run around the courtyard, and there’s a stable for the goats.

There’s even a chapel, always immaculately decorated and kept.

The dining room is on the ground floor, in a room with massive vaulting – cozy and warm in the winter and cool in the summer!

On the way in we passed the kitchen door (always good) and next to it is the Rotisserie where the roast of the day was being cooked. Leg of lamb anyone?

There were a few of us, and the friend who had organised the meal had ordered Bouillabaisse for us all.  So we had the usual starters of pate and ham followed by salad (with home-made vinegar used for the dressing – always a delight) .

And then came the Bouillabaisse – an enormous dish of fish in a delicious broth.

Of course accompanied by croutons and rouillie the garlic/saffron mayonnaise.  We did try valiantly to do the dish justice, but there was only so much we could eat…  Then came cheese, and finally dessert, and that was really special:  Omelette Norvegienne better known as Baked Alaska.  Light egg whites encasing a block of ice cream covered in rum soaked sponge.  Need I write any more?  Except to say that you only get the Omelette Norvegienne  when you order the Bouillabaisse!  And of course if you want to go, be sure to book!

And here are a few more pictures.