The Canal du Midi
(Click on thumbnail photos to see a larger version.)
Sep.
14: (63 km; sunny; 30°C/86°F) We headed south out of Gignac
on small country roads and were immediately in a sea of vineyards and the vendange
was in full swing. We saw a couple of teams of hand pickers hard at it. It looks like
back-breaking work. At St. Bauzille we stopped at a wine cooperative to watch the
activity. Tractor after tractor arrived, their wagons full of
grapes. The drivers would wait their turn to dump their load into the bins.
It was a very social affair with drivers greeting each other and chatting both
before and after unloading. In St. Pargoire we had our pause café. Carol
did her usual tour of the village, taking pictures of windows with shutters or
flowerboxes, etc., while I had the more responsible task of guarding the bikes
as I sipped my coffee. At St. Pons-de-Mauchiens we saw another wine co-op. The cépage
(grape variety) at St. Bauzille had been syrah while at St. Pons it was
all merlot but the activity and social interaction at both were the same. We came down from St.
Pons on a lovely 2 km descent. At one point on the downhill I caught a glimpse
of the Bassin de Thau, the great shallow brackish étang separated from
the Mediterranean by the narrow sandbar between Sète and Cap d'Agde. We had a
look around the outside of the XII c Abbaye de Valmagne. There was an entry fee
to get inside to see the large church, residences and cloister but I am
reluctant to support the Church in any way. The abbey appears to have escaped
the destruction of the revolution and the 'reign of terror' that followed.
Perhaps the citizens of the newly formed republic could not afford the entry fee.
We continued into Mèze, a nice old city on the north shore of the étang
where we ate lunch and then did our usual routines. Carol: wandered about, took
pictures; Mike: had beer, watched bikes. Carol liked the city, the colourful
buildings, the large fountain in centre ville. There were even palm
trees. We were definitely in the south. We successfully navigated our way out of
the city to the west, avoiding the route nationale by taking a small
country lane. As we passed through the village of Pinet we stopped at a winery
and bought a bottle of the local wine, Picpoul de Pinet, the white wine of the
region. We sped on to Pézenas because this was the one day on our trip that we
hadn't booked a place to stay. At the tourist office we were told that there
were only 3 hotels in the city but a number of B&B's. We tried one B&B
in the old centre of the city. "Désolé, monsieur. Complet!" (Sorry.
Full!) So since it was already 4 pm we headed for one of the hotels
and got a room. The Picpoul de Pinet soon became glasses of kir, aided by the
bottle of cassis that I was carrying (and "les glaçons
pour les genoux" - Carol's ice cubes for her knees). We bought a map of the old quarter
of the city at the tourist office. There's a numbered tour with descriptions
in English and it's well laid out. Armed with the map we set off, Carol as
photographer, me as tour guide, reading the descriptions as we moved from place
to place in this XV to XVII c maze of narrow cobbled streets, filled, of course,
with shops selling pottery or jewellery or other useless junk. Once we had
completed the tour I retired to a bar with a copy of the International Herald
Tribune while Carol, camera in hand, returned to the old quarter. We both had a
good time. We had not originally planned to go to Pézenas. It was a last minute
decision based on a vague recollection I had that there was something worth
seeing there. It was a good decision! ( Today's route )
Sep.
15: (77 km; sunny & windy; 31°C/88°F) Once again not a
cloud in the sky. How long ago those days of endless rain seemed. It's tricky
finding a cyclable route down here close to the Mediterranean. There are really
only two east-west roads: the busy route nationale and the "Languedocienne" (the
high speed, limited access, A9 autoroute). Most other roads go south from
them to the sea. We found a complicated route on the few available tiny rural
lanes. The other option, riding side by side with 18-wheel Volvo diesels on the route
nationale, was unacceptable. We started with a busy road south out of
Pézenas to Bessan, 12 km away, where we escaped onto a ragged little lane that
paralleled the busy highway. After about 1 km it joined a smooth quiet road into
Vias where we had our pause café. There was a small market on in the
pretty little pedestrian-only centre of the town. Since the sea was only a couple
of km away we headed down, got to the beach, saw the sea
and then headed back. I think beach resorts world-wide must all be the same: a
dreadful strip of T-shirt stores and fast food outlets and arcades and
unamusing "amusement" parks, complete with rides. It's all so seedy. I
couldn't escape fast enough! We zigged and zagged on a series of small lanes,
slowly working our way west. We even had a 1 km ride on a bike path beside the
Canal du Midi. At Villeneuve-les-Béziers we had a pause boisson
(a "drink break" instead of a "coffee break") before
continuing to seek out a traffic-free route to Narbonne. There were still lots
of vineyards and wagons loaded with grapes but there were also occasional marshy
areas and stands of bamboo. At Sérignan we turned west into a strong northwest
headwind. (I learned later that this wind is called the "tramontane") Although the
next 11 km were fairly flat the wind made it feel like we were climbing
the whole way. At Fleury, at 31°C, we stopped for another cool drink. I had a
small beer and a carafe of cold water but I still felt that I was down about a
litre. There were still 15 km to go to Narbonne and we were both tired. The wind
saps all your energy. We struggled into Narbonne, kept following centre ville
signs, looking for the tourist office and stumbled upon our hotel. 
We finished
off the cassis and the Picpoul de Pinet (mixed as kir and with the ice
cubes "for madame's knees") and that perked us up. We set out
to discover some of this city even though it was getting late. The hotel de
ville (city hall) is housed in the former residence of the
archbishops, a grand palatial building beside the almost magnificent cathedral
St. Just. Inside the church the height of the nave is awesome, the altar almost
gaudy and the apses very large but the whole thing is surprisingly short. Where
did everyone sit? When we went outside we could see that the outside of the
building was longer
than the inside. When we checked it out we found that the missing half of the
church had only been partially finished before they ran into some "minor" snags.
First, severe flooding in 1320 caused the harbour to silt up, and the river Aude
changed course so that the port of Narbonne became literally a backwater. Then the Black Death arrived in Narbonne in 1346.
Then the city council forced construction to stop because the plan was to
demolish a part of the defensive ramparts to make room for the enlarged nave. Then Edward, the Black
Prince, (the eldest son of the English king Edward III) arrived in 1355
(during the Hundred Years War) and sacked the city. After these
setbacks, Narbonne
fell on hard economic times. The church remains unfinished, despite a brief
surge of construction in the 1700's. So this almost magnificent cathedral
remains almost magnificent. The silting in of the port must have been a huge
blow to the city. An important seaport from Roman times into the Middle Ages,
Narbonne is now about 12 km from the sea and is no longer a 'maritime' city. We
found a nice little restaurant where we enjoyed personal favourites: soupe de
poisson with rouille (fish soup with a spicy garlic mayonnaise)
for
Carol, salade de gésiers confits for Mike and confit de canard (specially
conserved duck thigh and leg) for both of us - none of which are readily
available back home in Canada. ( Today's route )
Sep. 16: (48 km; sunny & windy; 30°C/86°F)
Cloudless sky again. Love the Midi! We headed north out of the city,
escaping the busy route nationale for an almost as busy route
départementale into Cuxac-d'Aude, an active little town where we had our
baguette and café au lait. At Sallèles-d'Aude Carol went off to see
what the town had to offer while I, watching the bikes, found myself in
conversation with an elderly Frenchman who was anxious to talk. Once I got
him to slow down a bit we had a chat about the weather - how nice the sun is in
the Midi; how bad the rains had been in the previous week; and did you know that
in 1969 the water was chest deep in the town as the Aude river and the
Canal du Midi both overflowed their banks after a week of rain? We rode out of
Sallèles beside the canal for a couple of km. A French cyclist about my age but
all decked out in bright spandex rode up beside me and we chatted for a while
before he had to turn off. We climbed into the little village of Montouliers
with its XII c church and chateau. Carol climbed up to see them while I sat on a
bench in the shade. There was a source (a spring) right
beside me. I asked someone if the water was drinkable and it was so I filled my
bottles with the cool water from the mountain. Carol drinks only bottled water
in France - 'eau de source' they call it, "spring water" - yet she
would never fill her bottles from one of those mountain springs. Am I the only
one who sees inconsistency here? She strode purposefully past my bench, heading
down the hill to take another photo. "Striding purposefully" is the
way she does things. "Strolling leisurely" would never work for her.
You can't get enough done at that pace. (Our grandson once said to me
"Grammie is always doing something even when there's nothing to do.") The vendange continued. It seemed
2 of every 3 vehicles was a tractor pulling a wagon either full of grapes and
heading for the co-op or empty and heading back for more. The 'tramontane',
that northwest wind, was up again and in our faces and the temperature was topping
30 degrees again so we were stopping frequently. In Agel we sat on a bench and ate
our tomato and our nectarine. In Aigues-Vives, 5 km away, we stopped for a beer
(me) and an ice cream (Carol). She needs the calcium for her bones; I need the
potassium to keep my electrolyte levels up as I sweat my way through these
mountains. It's all in the pursuit of good health. We fought the wind all the
way into 
Minerve,
our favourite French village. Why is it our favourite? Well there's history here.
During the
Albigensian crusade the Church hired the dreadful Simon de Montfort to slaughter
the Cathar "heretics". In 1210 he laid siege to the Cathar fortress in Minerve
and succeeded by cutting off access to their water supply. (He built a
huge catapult - mischievously named "malvoisin"
("bad neighbour") - and lobbed boulders across the canyon to destroy
the sheltered staircase to the water, exposing the Minervois to his archers if
they tried to descend.) The 180 "heretics"
chose to be burned at the stake rather than deny their faith. (If it's the
"right" faith, the Church calls such people "martyrs"; if
it's any other faith, the Church calls them "heretics".) And there's
geography here too. The village
sits on a rocky promontory high above the meeting point of the deep canyons of the Brian and Cesse
rivers. The maze of cobbled streets has a mix of artisans' shops and functioning
wineries. (Minerve, not surprisingly, sits in the Minervois wine district.) And
there's gourmet food here. The
restaurant of the small hotel, the Relais Chantovent, is one of our favourite
French restaurants. We checked into the hotel, showered and changed and set out
to wander the familiar streets (since this was our fourth stay here).
Down the street a vintner was pumping the grapes out of his wagon through a pipe
into his barn. He stopped the auger to move the remaining grapes down into it.
We were watching over the edge of the trailer when he restarted and we both got
spattered with dark red grape juice. Back quickly to our room where the
spots were treated individually and both shirts were washed (successfully). Curiosity can
have a price sometimes. The restaurant did not disappoint us that night. (
Today's route )
Sep. 17: (36 km; overcast & windy;
16°C/61°F) It was cool when we loaded up and that strong northwest
wind was moving clouds quickly across the sky. Our hotelier assured us that it
would be a little cloudy in the morning but then it would be fine. (He's
a much better restauranteur than weather prognosticator.) We climbed
steeply out of Minerve for 1.5 km but then had a great curving 3 km descent on a
smooth road down to the plain of the Canal du Midi. Once again there were many
tractors and wagons on the road and, occasionally, one of the tall narrow
mechanical pickers, looking a little like one of the evil empire's war machines
from the Star Wars movies. We looked into the XVI c church in Pépieux - nice
high nave, lots of light, not at all like the small dark XII c churches we'd
seen this trip. By 10 am the sky was overcast and the temperature had dropped to
16°C. We both added a long sleeved layer and turned into that cursed "tramontane"
again. As we left Azille I could see the great massif of the Montagne Noire, 50
km away, and the top was either covered with mist or it was raining there. We
stopped in Rieux-Minervois where Carol sped off to check out a market - but
returned empty-handed. After a coffee we went to the tourist office where they
were promoting "heritage" days. They gave us a glass of kir and we got
a spiel in English (sort of) about the unusual XII c church in the village. It
is basically a seven sided round church with seven pillars supporting the
central dome and the seven sided bell tower. Six chapels have been added to the
original building over the centuries but the basic structure is completely
unlike the many XII c churches we have seen on this trip. The XVIII c altar is
made of the pink marble from nearby Caunes. We headed out, in jackets now,
struggling against the wind for the last 10 km into Caunes-Minervois. We arrived
at 1 pm to see a note on the door of our hotel, the Hotel d'Alibert, indicating
that the hotelier takes a nap every afternoon and the hotel would not open until
5:30 pm. So we had more than 4 hours to kill in this small village. We had
another hot coffee. There's a grand abbey in the village in the process of being
restored. At the time of the revolution the monks and the abbot fled. Parts of
the buildings were sold and became private homes. The municipality has been
buying them back and the abbey is being restored to its original form. There are
remnants of an VIII c apse in the crypt but the church as it stands now has
significant parts dating from the XI, XII, XIV and XVIII c. There's a lot of the
pink Caunes marble in evidence. Impressive building. More wandering, killing
time. 5:00 pm now! I thought "I hope this place is worth it!" When
he opened the doors at 5:30 the hotelier, Frederic Guiraud, the 6th generation
of his family running this hotel, was charming and helpful and, as we learned
later watching him serve tables in his dining room, a flamboyant showman. The
building is a surprise. Nondescript on the outside, it is a
grand XVI c structure inside. Once a private home but a hotel now for those 6
generations, it has an internal courtyard with a water well topped by a stone cupola
and there are two levels of open galleries above it serviced by spiral staircase towers..
It's a jaw-dropping sight. At dinner he told us he goes to Canada to the Niagara region of
Ontario every couple of years to buy wines. He said "There are now very
good wines from Ontario. Very good!" ( Today's route )
The gîte Lou Recantou in Oupia (Héreault)
Sep. 18: (46 km; sunny & windy; 20°C/68°F) It was sunny, very windy and only 11°C when we left Caunes. We fought the wind briefly and then, finally, after 3 days of cycling straight into it, we turned. Now, wind at our backs, we flew down into the nice little village of Laure-Minervois where we bought our breakfast baguette. (It was Sunday and you must shop early on Sunday.) The tractors were on the road again. Sunday or not, I guess when it's time to pick grapes you pick grapes! We pedaled back into Rieux-Minervois where we had our baguette with café au lait before continuing our ramble through the vineyards. With the strong wind behind us we just "put up the sail" and almost coasted the whole morning. We had a sandwich in a bar in Olonzac before heading to Oupia, 3 km away. There are 9 or 10 big propeller blade windmills atop the mountain behind Oupia turning slowly in this relentless wind generating electricity for the grid. I'm glad some good came from that cursed wind! We were in Oupia to visit Susan and Tim Wallis who in 1999 pulled up roots in London, Ontario, came to Oupia and bought a dilapidated house with an attached dirt floor shed, planning to turn the latter into a gîte (a place you can rent by the week or month or season). They transformed the shed into an elegant three bedroom, two bath facility with a modern kitchen, ceramic tile floors, new roof, small swimming pool - all in about 12 months. We saw the 'before' and the 'after' a year later and could not believe it. Then the talented Tim created a 2 bedroom apartment with bath, modern kitchen, spacious balcony and private entrance in the roomy loft above the garage of the house. The two units are beautifully set up. Check out the web site at http://www.lourecantou.com/ for more details. Two friends from Ottawa were also staying in Oupia and joined us and Tim and Susan for supper. Tim cooked. Is there nothing he can't do? An easy day and a very enjoyable evening. ( Today's route )
Sep. 19: (18 km; sunny & windy; 20°C/68°F) We had a nice breakfast with Tim and Susan. They made us feel so comfortable in their home. We loaded up and got on our way near 10:30. Tim identified a low-traffic route to Lézignan-Corbières where we would catch our train to Toulouse. We passed not a single vehicle on this narrow rural lane to Roubia. There we turned into the wind that was buffeting Carol, pushing her out into the middle of the road. Where traffic permitted she rode close beside me and loaded down as I was I provided a good windscreen for her. We bought our tickets at the station and waited for our train. A notice was posted that the train was delayed for 20 minutes. Then 30. Then 50! It finally arrived 1 hour and 45 minutes late. We loaded our bikes, a tight fit because 4 other bikes were already on the train, and we were on our way. At Carcassonne the train stopped and sat there for about 5 minutes. Then the conductor told everyone to get off. Whatever the problem was that had caused the delay had resurfaced. We were told that we'd be taken to Toulouse by bus (with our bikes stowed on their sides in the luggage bays - not a good thing to do). Then about 15 minutes later another man came out and told us that there were no buses available and so we'd have to wait an hour for the next train to Toulouse. Then about 15 minutes before the next train was due a new 2 car train pulled up and I guess some sort of announcement was made because everybody got on to the train so we did too. So we were on our way again, finally arriving in Toulouse about 5 pm, three and a half hours late. Oh well, it reduced Carol's shopping time so it wasn't such a bad thing after all. We didn't have any luck in finding a gift for our grandson but we did buy 4 bottles of cassis at less than half the price we pay at home so some of our shopping was successful. Lots of reorganizing and repacking that night and early to bed. ( Today's route )
Sep. 20: (12 km; sunny & windy; 20°C/68°F) Up at 7, on the bikes by 8 and weaving our way through morning Toulouse traffic to the airport. Seamless check-in, uneventful flight home.
We cycled nearly 1400 km on the trip, unfortunately a significant part of it in the pouring rain. But the vendange was very interesting. And I lost fifteen pounds. But because of the rain this was not among my favourite cycle trips in France.