Hiking within our comfort zone

The few that get in touch with me about this blog have often said that it doesn't look as if we are outside our comfort zone at all. But think of this: one usually expects to spend two years in a city before feeling really at home......and that's if you speak the language fluently. One makes friends through work (we're retired) and through our kids (they're not here), their schools and sports teams. We've been here for 5 months now and during that time have been to Spain twice and the UK once. So it has taken awhile to get to feel "at home" here and the British Cultural Association has helped with that. We have attended their first of the month pub nights, one quiz night, a play reading group (and if I was here for a year, I'd love to get more involved in that), and last week's tour of the Musée Fabre. The people who are part of the group are either from Britain or one of her colonies, and three of the men on yesterday's hike had married French women. There are also French people who have worked in the UK for a couple of years and want to keep their English fluent. I really miss my Tuesday morning walking group, so I was quite eager and I also wanted to try out my new pack. So here is the description that we found on the website:

Note "easy" and "2-2 1/2". With that description, I would expect a level one walk, but wait a sec......"views". Will we be looking up or down???? Well, in fact, both.

So we packed sandwiches and drove to Lauret, about 40 minutes away. We arrived early, walked around the village (5 minutes) and then out to the village tennis courts (5 minutes) and back again. Ate our sandwiches and waited for the others. The walk was to start at 1:30, but we hung around for 15 minutes for a couple who said they were coming, but in fact, did not show. So at 1:45 we headed off with our trusty Kiwi leader, on a road that definitely had an upward slope to it. Basil, from Geneva, started complaining at once, in a joking manner, that he thought it was going to be easy. Within ten minutes, we were all gushing to our leader as the views just kept getting better and better. We climbed up to a moulin (water mill) that still had a huge wheel inside:

   and this was taken just outside the mill as we continued to climb to see the source of the river.

And here I am, coaching another woman on the benfits of walking backwards down the hills. Much easier on the knees and stretches the other muscles and tendons.

The walk was what I would call a level 2.5 and we returned to the cars at 5pm, so 3.25 hours. Fabulous walk and the woman walking backwards had had the foresight to make some apricot cake, enough pieces for everyone. We devoured them immediately.

And to top off the whole day, one of the men, married to Martine, who I had met a number of times, is from St. Helen's, so he and Les had a good laugh and a chat. Such a small world.

Getting in shape for the Camino

We have decided that we really should do some hiking with our packs as we leave on the 5th April to fly to Porto to start walking the Camino Portugués. So off we went yesterday, heading towards Grabels, about 5km away. After less than 1km, we were along the Mosson river, and it was such a lovely walk. The amount of detritus in the trees and bushes around, clearly told us how high the water had come in the big storms in September/October 2014.

At one point, I tried to cross a stream the hard way. Les then pointed out the safer bridge close by.

We arrived in Grabels in time to have a look around, buy a croissant and step into the only bar/café in town for a coffee. And one of the best café crémes we've had...large and hot. As we headed back through the town, we spied the church. This church is very supportive of the camino, this particular route known as the Chemin d'Arles or the Voie d'Arles, which begins in Arles, goes through Montpellier on it's way to Toulouse and then on to Puente la Reina in Spain. They say that all roads lead to Rome, but around here, a whole lot of them lead to Santiago, which if you look closely, is only 1556km from here.

Home again, a trip to Ikea for cookies and the Decathlon store for a more suitable pack. But, for the fashionistas out there, no worries, as the new pack is PINK! 

And then home for our favourite light dinner......salade chèvre chaud.

Apples and Roquefort

While I was cleaning up bits and bobs from the table, I noticed the back of the ticket for our tour of the cheese caves in Roquefort et voilà, a recipe for Tarte aux pommes au Roquefort. This was the result and boy was it tasty. The apples are grated so don't need to be in the oven for more than 10 min. That, with salad, bread and a glass of wine and we call it dinner.

We said goodbye to Manon at the train station yesterday and then walked home via a cheese shop and the market in the Gambetta area. There is a lovely fish store there, likely the best in Montpellier, where we picked up a great piece of cod for dinner. There is also a vendor that sells wonderful bread and with the chèvre cheese we had bought at the cheese shop, purchased mainly for the name....La Compostelle......proved a winning combo.

Gordes, Fontaine de Vaucluse and L'Isle-sur-la-Sorgue

We had a lovely day on Tuesday in Provence, which started with driving to Villeneuve lès Avignon to pick up my Glaswegian/Victoria friend, Una. Years ago she had worked in Gordes for two summers and had a lovely driving tour worked out for us. Since it was already 11am by the time we left her friend's house, we headed straight to L'Isle-sur-la-Sorgue, sussed out the various restaurants and then walked around town before actually sitting down. I mean, we had to work up an appetite as the French lunches are marvelous and you really want to be able to appreciate them.

Lovely town isnt' it?

And then we went to Le Bouchon and since it looked like it 'might' rain, we chose to eat not by the river, but just under an awning. Good decision as soon the wind started, the heaters were turned on and before we finished, the rain had started and stopped.

For starters, Les and I had ordered the Coquille, as we love, love, love scallops. And this preparation was divine.

Una and Manon both ordered the aumonière de chèvre chaud. We had to ask what 'aumonière' meant as none of us had a clue. It was, in fact, the casing that the chèvre was wrapped and baked. Basically a phyllo pastry. And a big thumbs up for this one too. And  once we started eating, I forgot to take pics of our main course. Sorry.

While we were there, Una struck up conversations with the young chaps behind us and we discovered that the old man sitting at the next table with two friends, was Renaud, the most famous French singer in France, having sold millions of albums. One of his big hits that was translated into English was called Miss Maggie and is about Maggie Thatcher. Worth a look on the internet. M Renaud appeared to be about 75. His bodyguard was at a table on the other side of us having a meal with a friend. We had no idea of the connection until they were about to leave. Una, Manon and I had been admiring the body guard and Les figured he had played rugby. Right on all counts as his younger brother appeared at our table, speaking English and said he had been asked to come by and answer any questions. And yes, his brother had played professional rugby for 15 years. After arriving at home, we did a search on M Renaud and found he is 62! That's what years of hard living and hard drinking do for you that we had been off on our guess by more than a decade.

After lunch, we drove to Fontaine de Vaucluse which is a very small village, almost a suburb of the small town of L'Isle-sur-la-Sorgue (8km away). We weren't quite sure why this was on the itinerary, but I kept driving and finally, a stream, and a parking lot. When we got out of the car, we found we were at Le Partage des Eaux, a place where in 1852, Napolen had decreed that the river should be parted to provide him (and his troops presumeably) with water. So a structure was built that allowed the incoming river to be split....5/12 going one way and 7/12 going to Napoleon.

Andd then on to Gordes. Oh my, the views. 

View of the town from the road leading up to it.

Just one of the amazing views from the town.

We dropped Una off at 7:30 and then started our way home, promptly taking a wrong turn and ending up driving through cobblestone streets with rock walls on either side and having no clue where "down" and "Avignon" was. We finally were sorted and arrived by in Montpellier by 9pm and had a very light dinner of cheese, bread and wine.

Our first raclette dinner

It was so good, I only took a 'before' picture.

Enjoying Montpellier

We've spent the past few days enjoying all that Montpellier has to offer in terms of food and entertainment. In the Thursday edition of the "Midi Libre", there was a spread on ten places in Montpellier serving tea. One sounded particularly interesting and was just across the street from where Manon and I had organized to get our haircuts on a 2 for 1 offer. B'cosse turned out to be a lovely place, run by a Scotsman from just outside of Aberdeen and his Belgian partner. Lovely tea, scones and chocolates.

And us enjoying the tea, before haircuts.....

And after

We had time that evening, to catch a movie in the our local...."Charlie's country", vostf, which means original version with French subtitles. As we went in, we kind of laughed wondering if the orignal version was in an aboriginal language. Well, lots of it was, so we were reading the French subtitles to understand. Great movie and great activing.

Friday we spied that a jazz show was on in the evening...9:15pm, so I bought tickets online and our day was planned. Walked downtown to see a showing of "Still Alice", which was tremendous, then walked around to find a place to eat. There are so many, it's kind of hard to make a decision. And we'd had a lovely lunch out, so weren't all that hungry. We ended up in a small pizza/pasta restaurant on the Comèdie, having salad and sharing a pizza. Fortunately we put our order in 2 minutes before the end of happy hour, so had 20% off our carafe of wine.

And then to find the JAM, which was the venue for Richie Beriach. Richie is of the generation of Chick Corea and Keith Jarrett. His new band included a drummer and a young woman, Regina, who played a Roland keyboard and a kind of synthesizer, making all sorts of wonderful sounds. The first set was loud, chaotic and truly wonderful. Not the kind of music that you could chat through. You really had to listen and work to enjoy it. The second set was much quieter, with a Bill Evans encore. Truly an enjoyable night. Here is a shot, using my itouch between the heads of the two gentlemen in front of us.

Saturday, we woke to light showers, but walked to the market anyway as it's always great. Manon was delighted to find that when she would find a vendor she thought was wonderful, the vendor recognized me as a regular. Manon and Les spent the afternoon snoozing (Manon) and watching rugby (Les), while I went off to my book club meeting. We were discussing Shirley Jackson's "We have always lived in a castle". She was the author who wrote the short story "The Lottery" in 1948. We had had to read it in grade 10 or 11 and the story has stayed with me still. She writes well, about ordinary stuff, with a very creepy and sometimes violent undertone. Worth rereading. Since it was still raining, we had a quiet dinner at home.

On Sunday, we went to the brocante/flea market near us. It's huge and has everything used you could possibly want, plus lots of stuff that may have 'fallen off a lorry'. Manon and I bought the burner part of a raclette at one stall, six of the little cheese holders at another and a pan that will serve as a lid, at another. Total  cost 6€. Fun? Priceless! We also picked up some baby sleepers for some babies in Paris. We had also organized to join a group from the British Cultural Association (a group of anglophones and those wanting to speak more English) for brunch and a tour in English of the Fabre museum. Brunch was plentiful and the tour, 90 minutes was great. We visited about 10 paintings all together, the painting and painter put into context with other artists and the happenings of the times. Again, such an enjoyable afternoon.

By this time it was 4:45pm or so and Manon and I found a movie we wanted to attend. "La famille Béllier", was in French, so Les went home and we went to a restaurant for a drink to warm us up before the show. Mint tea for Manon and wine for me. And Manon found 20€ on the floor!!! Only 320€ more to go and she will have recovered all the money she lost ;-)

Cheese and Bridges

At the recommendation of a friend, we decided to go on a road trip to Lodève for the museum, Roquefort to see the caves where the cheese is made and then to Millau to see the Millau aqueduct. Well, things being what they were and slow starts, etc. but the time we headed off at 11am, I knew that the museum and caves would both be closed from 12-1, so suggested we go straight to Millau.

What  a massive architectual site:

If you look closely, you can see the a car on the right hand side of the bridge.

And then we drove to Roquefort. 

For those who don't know, this cheese is somewhat like champagne in that the true Roquefort is ONLY made here, and has been for 2000 years. There are four large cheesemakes, two of whom offer tours, and one of those offers a English handout so you can follow along with the French guide. We visited one of their 15 cellars and this one is 11 storeys high and has rock faults, providing fresh air to the cheese, on every floor. 

Each of these discs/loaves is about 24cm in diameter and in the cellar we were in, there were 300,000 loaves of cheese, at a time, and 1,400,000 in an entrie season. And then we got to taste some, which was lovely to have three of the cheeses side by side and really be able to taste the difference.

By the time we left Roquefort to head home, it was too late to go to Lodève so that will be another day's excursion.

Celebrating the Cévennes

After our Saturday morning trip to the market, (where we were delighted to see and buy the new asparagus),

we wandered downtown to the Comédie , which is always a happening place and where this weekend, there was a celebration of the Cévennes, and area just north of here with an entirely different landscape. We've been in the area a few times and plan to go a few more as there is so much to explore. But the celebrations were great. They ranged from a petting zoo:  note the chickens, one on top of a sheep and one on top of a goat, happily hitching a ride ;-), 

to kids practicing zipling:

And a variety of bands and dancers decked out in funny costumes. I took a video, but can't load it here, so you'll have to go to Facebook to see it.

Also set up near the area, and I'm sure they will be there all week, were telescopes in anticipation of next week's eclipse.

There's nothing wrong with doing nothing

And that's what we did after we saw Paul and Manon off to Barcelona. Like parents, we had warned them to carry their packs on the front, always be watchful, etc. etc. And then we did laundry, went for walks, cleaned the apartment and read a lot, but basically did nothing. We expected our visitors to return on Wednesday by 8:30pm and had promised them dinner. We sat down to a leek quiche, salad and lemon pudding. By the time we had heard all about the adventures (or thought we had heard them all) it was past 11:30 and we all went to bed.

On Thursday, Manon again accompanied me to the hospital for the followup that had not happened the week before. It's lovely having a fluent translator at your side, even though the doctor spoke English, had trained at the Mayo clinic and then pronounced me a very healthy specimen. So, we headed to the hospital café for our breakfast of fruit, croissant and coffee. And it was then I got the whole story on the Barcelona trip. Apparently all was well until they caught the metro to the train station to return. As Manon entered the metro, a young man was blocking her way. Three times she said "perdon" and finally he moved. But of course, by then, his accomplice had put her hand into Manon's bag and taken her tiny purse, which had the remainder of the 300€ we had given her (perhaps 150€?) and her driver's licence. Paul was holding a seat, looking at her and actually saw it happen, but our brains do not compute that kind of activity fast enough to stop it. These pickpockets are SO slick. So now, Manon has been pickpocketed twice, lost her Visa card, bank card, driver's licence and about 250€ cash. She had already started a process with Visa to obtain emergency money. For those interested, it turns out that the maximum amount is $500USD.

So, we returned to the apartment and Manon started the telephone calls to Visa. She quoted file numbers etc. etc. and was promised a call back in 30 minutes. When I got on the phone to confirm the telephone number of the apartment, I was told 30-60 minutes. So we waited well over and hour and then thought.......let's go to Palavas for moules frites. How warm was it??? t-shirt weather!!!

Paul's moules, and below is Manon's chevre salad, one of my favourites.

We had a lovely time and then returned to the apartment to continue the calls to Visa. All lines were busy, but finally, using skype, we got through. Manon was greeted by a lovely young man who gave her the questions and answers that she would be asked and then told her that the money was at a Western Union office 1.5km from here. Normally we would walk but it was 4:40pm and the office closed at 5pm and we wanted to make sure we got there on time, so I rushed down to get the car out, Manon came into the garage and away we went. Rue Paul Rimbaud is having major construction and nobody puts numbers on the buildings. Finally, at the 3 minute red light, Manon got out of the car to walk backwards and I went around the block, which was no easy task with tram cars aiming at me and people honking if I didn't take the light fast enough. I finally, through all the construction, saw a yellow postal van and knew I'd found the place. Oo-la-la, there was a parking lot with a space available! And alors! the place was closed. I turned and there was Manon walking across the parking lot. She's already investigated several shops and we went to several more to confirm that this was the right place. None of the businesses seem to have any idea of what their street number is. Very strange. So back into the car and we returned down Lodève and alors! the pneu place was open, so I drove right in. The guy, recognizing us (we'd been there four times), basically told Manon that "shit happens" and he had lost the tire, so had replaced it with a better one. In fact, it does look new, but still. As we were there, another guy came in with a tire and so the guy wrote his name on the tire. Manon, said that doesn't work and perhaps he should write Mary on it. I said, yeah, why don't you write Mary on this one and this one and this on?

Would you be able to find a tire in here?

The saga continues

On Sunday, we headed off to the 10:30 mass at the Cathédrale Saint-Pierre (1536). It's a huge gothic style cathedral and looks a bit like a fortress from one angle; however, we had heard that it had a wonderful organ and good choir. So true about the former. The choir was okay, but it was the cantor that was a standout. Looked a bit like Les in photos we have of him when he was about 25....long dark hair, big beard and big glasses.

After church, we were hungry ( a constant state it seems) so headed to the Sunday brocante at the Place Royale du Peyrou, just across from our own little Arc de Triomphe. 

as I had seen some food stands there the previous week. We enjoyed wine, mussels, paella and a hotdog and also managed to stroll around the numerous stalls selling silver, china, fabrics, linen, old picture postcards, etc. On the way home, we stopped in the market nearby and bought some veggies, plus a roasted chicken and potatoes. That with a salad was our dinner. We checked the tire place, but of course, that was closed. We decided it would be an early night as Paul and Manon were off to Barcelona in the morning, so we watched a DVD, that is a great laugh: Saint Jacques....La Mecque. Very funny.

Avignon or bust!

We arose on Saturday morning at a leisurely time as the day before had been jam packed with driving and lots of scenery etc. Paul and Manon waited outside the garage while Les and I brought the car out. As I was starting the car, Les gave me a curious look and said "the car appears to be on a tilt" and sure enough, the right front tire was flat. Les went out to tell the others that we'd be going nowhere but little did he know that Paul had some experience with tires and driving the outback etc. Within about 10 minutes, Paul had the tire off, spare on and we were ready to go. We were happy to see that the spare tire was not one of those "toy" tires that we get in North American cars, but was a real tire. So we dropped off the tire, screw intact, as that was what had flattened it, at the local pneu (tire) place, less than 100 metres from our door. The man in charge circled the screw with white chalk and wrote Mary on the tire. And off we went. Avignon was lots closer than we thought, so we arrived, had lunch in the main square and watched a Women's Day March.

We then spent the rest of the afternoon at the Palais des Papes, which was very interesting, with good interpretation through one of those recorded devices that one holds to the ear. This was the seat of Western Christianity in the 14th century, with 6 papal conclaves held in the Palais.

And then, of course, Manon and I had to dance sur le pont d'Avignon. I have posted a short video on Facebook, but here we are on the bridge, singing and dancing:

And this is one of the walls in the building at the entrance to the bridge.

We hung around for another hour or so and enjoyed a lovely sunset and last minute shopping.

City Hall in Avignon.

And then we drove home, arriving late enough to enjoy soup, cheese, bread and of course wine.

Something about Mary......or visiting Mary

After all the mishaps at the beginning of our trip, a friend suggested that the title of the blog should be "Something about Mary". Well, again, we have had adventures. On Tuesday, we were expecting our friend Manon, and her friend Paul. Manon was coming from Ottawa via two weeks in Paris and Paul was coming from Australia, a long haul flight that involves changing planes in Dubai. They were supposed to meet at the Gare de Lyon so they could get on the 4:15 train to Montpellier. Shortly before 5pm, our phone rang and there was a lovely Australian accent telling us that he'd missed the train by 2 and he'd be on the next one, an hour later. Our thoughts now were with Manon and if she was on the train, we knew she had no clue what had happened to Paul. So at 7:30pm, we stood on the platform and looked out for a disembarking Manon. And there she was with a bug hug and kiss, she said "But I don't know where Paul is!" She was surprised to hear me say that I knew.  We spent the hour catching up on news and then went searching for Paul on the next train. After quick introductions, we headed to the Tram. Once back at the apartment, Les escorted Paul to the small hotel across the street and Manon and I opened wine, cut bread and put out cheese.

Apparently, Paul had left himself 4 hours to get from the CDG airport in Paris, to the Gare de Lyon, but the flight from Dubai was late. One of those flights where someone's luggage goes on, but the family did not get on, so taking luggage off, back to the gate, etc. etc. As he said, IF he had known which hall the train left from, he might have made it. As it was, information was scarce so he missed the train. The interesting thing was, that a few days before his trip started from Australia, he asked Manon for our phone number "just in case". Good plan.

On Wednesday, we drove down to the coast, to Aigues-Mortes, Palavas-les-Flot and then the cathedral of Saint-Pierre de Maguelone. Les and I have been to these places before, and it was nice to be able to show others.

One of the many gates of the walls surrounding Aigues-Mortes.

On Thursday, we were all moving a bit slowly and the blow up matress that Manon was sleeping on had developed a slow leak so that it felt more like a waterbed by morning. The big event of the day was my attendance for an appointment at the hospital, with Manon in tow, as my official translator. Les and Paul headed downtown for a bit of a tour. The department did not receive notification of my appointment and I was glad Manon was there as there was no move to rectify the situation and Manon just said that we aren't going anywhere until a new appointment has been firmed up. So, we then left to join the boys in town. Since by this time (after 1) we were all feeling a bit peckish, I led everyone to a small café near Saint Roch. The sun was shining and the menu was fine. After a few minutes of Manon chatting to the waiter and letting us know about any nuances with the food menu, the waiter told her "Vouz parlez français bien". We all hooted with laughter as it is her mother tongue. She decided she wanted to pick up the tab for lunch and it was then that she couldn't find her little wallet, with Visa and bank card and 100€, nor could she find her iphone. Hospital, Tram, couch at the apt??? We decided not to stress right away, but once we got back, we tore apart her suitcase, and basically turned everything upside down, as one does when you lose something. Calls back to the bank in Canada at least put a hold on things.

By Friday monring, Manon was determined not to worry about things, she had done everything she could and she had friends (us) to lend her money until the end of her trip (end of May). So, off we went on a driving trip to Saint-Martin-de-Londres with a lovely old church. Again, Les and I had been there before and knew that Manon and Paul would enjoy seeing it. And then up to Ganges for lunch, which took ages, so we had to have some wine, except me, the driver.

We continued on t0 the Cirque de Navacelles, which Les and I had wanted to see. Fabulous winding roads, which is why I was driving, as otherwise, I'd have had my head out the window....a lot.

Here are Paul and Manon standing at the edge and the picture below is a shot of the village of Navacelles which is on a rocky promontory in the centre of the cirque.

It really was an outstanding day and lovely to share with friends, old and new. We decide to go to Avignon on Saturday..........next installment.

Catching up

I realize it's been awhile since I've posted anything and that's not because we have been idle. Au contraire, it is because we have been so busy. From Malaga, we went to Madrid for three nights, staying in an AirB&B just steps from the Opera. A fabulous place and fabulous location. It started our time in Madrid on the right foot. We had two and a half days in that beautiful city and filled it with galleries and food. Tapas we enjoyed:

The classiest buskers I've ever seen, across the way from a lake in the major park. It was a bit too late in the day for us to rent a boat, but we did think about it. We tried to break up galleries, with walks.

Our favourite gallery/museo was the Reina Sofia, as it was well laid out and was free for seniors!! Our least favourite was the Prado as it was a zoo, confusing, interpretation was poor, etc. etc. We started our first day with the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum, which we loved. We spent about five hours there and then had to walk in the Botanic Gardens to let all the information and stimulation settle.

This is a shot of Les in front of the Palace. As you can see, we also enjoyed outstanding weather. And then we took the train back and enjoyed fabulous scenery and 6 hours on the train.

These photos were taken from a train moving at about 230kph. The lower picture is of the Pyrenees which we could see as we approached the Tarragona region.

We arrived back in Montpellier to warm weather and a feeling that spring had truly sprung. We spent Monday washing clothes, filling the fridge and looking forward to Paul and Manon coming on Tuesday!

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