Part 4 : The Land of the Cathars and
"Catalonia"
(This is a continuation of the trip log from Part
3 : The Rouergue and Haut Languedoc)
Sep.
24 (66 km): When I got the bikes out of the hotel garage,
Carol's rear tire was flat - our only bike problem of the trip. I
couldn't find the cause inside the tire when I replaced the tube.
It's always easier to replace the tube and repair the punctured one
later when you have more time. (I actually didn't
repair it until we got back to Canada.) We headed east out of
Minerve and turned south at Aigne, just 7 km away. As we
descended from Aigne towards Olonzac we were finally out of
the Massif Central and on to the plain separating the Massif from the
Pyrénées! We had spent 13 days in the mountains filled
with spectacular scenery, great cycling, quaint villages, good food
& wine. In my opinion it is the best region we have ever cycled.
We had breakfast in Olonzac and then backtracked to the village of
Oupia (the accent is on the last syllable: oo
pee AH) Over the previous couple of years I had corresponded
over the Internet with a young woman from London, Ontario.
(She loves to see herself described as "young"
but to me she is.) We were/are both lovers of France and of
cycling. She had cycled in Cuba and I was interested in hearing of
her experiences there. So, from time to time we had exchanged e-mails
and she was kind enough to include me on her mailing list so that I
could keep abreast of her activities. In the spring of 1999, out of
the blue, she announced that she and her husband had bought a place
in southern France and were pulling up stakes and moving there almost
immediately. So they were off to Oupia in the middle of the Minervois
wine district. I knew we were planning to pass nearby so we made a
point of visiting the village. We asked a postman where we could find
the "jeunes canadiens" and he knew exactly where they lived.
(Oupia is a small village!) We just dropped in unannounced and
they graciously gave us a tour of their place and their plans for it.
It was a work in progress for sure but he knew what to do. They were
hoping to open a part of their place as a "gîte" (a place you
can rent by the week or the month or the season with all facilities)
for the following year. (At the time I thought there
was no way they could do it but we returned the following year and it
was ready to go! Amazing! For information about the gîte check
their web site at
http://www.lourecantou.com/) It was interesting to meet
someone I had only met via the web. We returned to Olonzac and had
lunch. On the way in we had an opportunity to examine a mechanized
grape picker. The best analogy I can think of is that it's like
one of those car washes where the car sits still and the car wash
moves over it. The vehicle straddles the row of vines. There are a
number of horizontal rubberized bars on each side of the vines. As
the vehicle moves along the row of vines these bars vibrate,
vigorously shaking the vine. The grapes fall off on to a conveyor on
each side and they are carried up to a pair of hoppers which can dump
their grapes into a wagon when they get full. I asked what per cent
of the grapes the machine collects? 95%! Did they hand pick the
missed ones? Only at the end of the rows; the machine doesn't do the
first vine very well. The rest they just leave unpicked. We cycled
alongside the Canal du Midi (which gives Toulouse access to
the Mediterranean) for a couple of km before crossing it and
continuing south. At Ribaute we saw another team of grape
pickers. Every time we happened upon a group they always offered to
let us try it and we wisely always turned them down. The pickers fill
small baskets with grapes and then dump them
into a large pail on the back of another team member. When his
container is full he takes it to the wagon, climbs a ladder and then
bends forward quickly, dumping his load over
his shoulder into the wagon. It looks like very hard work but
they all seemed to be having a good time. We arrived in
Lagrasse (another of the "plus beaux villages"),
checked into our hotel (Auberge de St. Hubert) and then set out on
our bikes to visit a winery nearby - the Chateau les Auzines.
Our young friend in Oupia had told us that there was a vintner just
outside of Lagrasse who made a very nice "organic" wine - no
pesticides, etc. It was only about 4 km away. We turned off the main
road to go to the winery and were immediately on a very steep,
narrow twisting 2 km climb . About two thirds of the way up I got a
nosebleed which made the experience even more difficult. When I
finally got there, Carol was already talking to the owner's daughter
who spoke English and the owner appeared with a pitcher of juice and
ice cubes. We chatted for a while. The family had only owned the
vineyard for three years. Prior to that he had been in another
business near Paris. He and his son decided to become winemakers so
they studied the business in Paris and in Montpellier and then bought
this 45 hectare vineyard. The son makes the wine and the father
markets it across France. We are in the Corbières wine region
now, having left the Minervois when we crossed the Canal. We tried
the wine - very nice. Only grenache and syrah grapes in its blend. We
bought a bottle to bring home. We asked about the vendange. He
said they had a team of 15 pickers (including the family) and they
pick the 45 hectares in ten days! (A hectare is about
the size of two American football fields including the end
zones!) We wandered around Lagrasse. There's a grand abbey
there but other than that we couldn't see how it earned its "plus
beaux village" designation. We had dinner on the terrace of the
hotel that night, looking out over a vineyard - very elegant. After
the mountains, it was an easy day (except for the nosebleed part).
Sep. 25 (55 km): It was a sunny 18°C when we
set off in the morning, still heading south. We detoured into St.
Pierre-des-Champs - no café in the village. Back on the
main road I flagged down a tractor pulling a wagon full of grapes.
Where could we find a café? In Talairan, just 3 km off our
route at the next intersection. It was all downhill and when we got
there the café was closed. The owner had gone into Narbonne to
get supplies.
Back
up the 3 km to the intersection and another 4 km up to the Col de
Villerouge (404 m) and then down into Villerouge-Termenès
where we finally got our coffee at 11:00. We sat outside the little
café just across a little stream from the walls of the old
chateau. Very pleasant! We continued south, climbing through a
village with the interesting name Davejean to the Col du
Prat (444 m). We could see the mountains rising ahead of us - we
were less than 50 km from the high peaks near the Spanish frontier.
We descended through the village of Maisons and were
immediately in the surprisingly rugged gorges of the Torgan
river. We followed the river downstream into Padern where we
stopped for a cool drink and lunch. We got caught in a short shower
as we sped west to Cucugnan. We settled into our hotel
(Auberge du Vigneron - very nice). We knew that the Chateau
de Quéribus was just 3 km out of town but we also knew
that it was up two 17% climbs so we had decided that we would walk up
to see it rather than try to ride. That decision was made before we
saw it. Quéribus sticks up at the top of a mountain more than
400 m straight up from Cucugnan. We could see why the Cathars had
built the fortress there and also why it was the last to fall. We
decided to pass on the climb - neither by bike nor on foot. Cucugnan
is a pretty old hilltop town with a few cobbled streets and a nice
little church. We had a fine meal in the beautiful dining room of our
hotel with a great view of the mountain. We were back into
mountainous cycling - a good day.
Sep. 26 (82 km): We headed west for 3 km to the
Col de Tribi (344 m) to get a view of another great
mountaintop Cathar fortress, Peyrepertuse.
It's mind-boggling to imagine how they built these forts where they
are, using the technology available 1000 years ago. We turned back
through Padern again and followed the river Torgan west through the
gorge - spectacular! At Tuchan we bought our lunch stuff -
there was a queue at the boulangerie. I guess on Sunday you have to
get your bread early before everything closes for the day. We began a
long climb out of Tuchan. We could see another Cathar fortress,
Aguilar, on a hilltop a couple of km to the north. The road
switched back and forth as it climbed through the
garrigue (scrubby semi-desert. It
reminded me a lot of southern New Mexico). We stopped to pick
rosemary growing like weeds at the roadside. We looked up to see some
motorcycles coming over the crest of the hill a couple of switch
backs above us. They kept coming and coming - 48 in all. Our 2 year
old grandson would have loved it - he was very keen on motorcycles!
At the crest there was a belvedere with a great view of Aguilar
behind us and the high Pyrénées disappearing into the
clouds just south of us. We descended into Vingrau where we
had our lunch and then were climbing again. We saw a number of cars
parked along the roadside and thought that it must be another grape
picking crew but as we approached the sheer rock face of the mountain
in front of us we could see that they were climbers. We watched only
briefly - it looked very dangerous and we didn't want to witness a
disaster. At the Pas de l'Escale we could look back at the
patchwork of vineyards in the valley below and ahead we could see the
coastal plain and the Mediterranean. We had a nice 6 km descent on a
wide smooth road to the plain and continued straight east, passing
north of Perpignan, almost to the sea. We turned south,
following the coast for a bit and then turned west and headed into
Perpignan. We had a little trouble orienting ourselves and finding
the hotel we were looking for but ultimately located it and checked
in (H. Perdrix). We wandered the relatively quiet downtown (it was
Sunday). The cathedral is ornate, almost ostentatious, with many side
altars. The massive organ was being played by 2 people - impressive
sound! Our first impressions of the city were not good. We dined at a
pizzeria - not bad. It was a long eventful day of cycling.
Sep. 27 (40 km): We did a little shopping before we
left Perpignan - film, a couple of Michelin maps to replace worn out
ones at home - the maps are cheaper in France. We went up to see the
Palais des rois de Majorque (Palace of the kings of
Majorca), an impressive 13th C walled fortress, and then headed out
to the west through a busy commercial area. We escaped the traffic
when we turned south. At Fourques we began the 6.5 km climb to
the Col de Llauro (380 m) and then had a fast 7.5 km descent
to Céret. We found a hotel (H. Vidal), settled in and
then began to wander around this interesting little town.
Céret was a favorite place for Picasso in his early years.
There's a museum of modern art displaying some works by Picasso,
Matisse, Chagall, Dali and others. The remnants of the original
walled town are detectable and the old church and several squares are
attractive. We bought a T-shirt for our grandson with sheep on it (he
likes sheep) and the word "Pyrénées" in the four
languages of the mountains: French, Spanish, Basque and Catalan. We
had a very good meal at our hotel - omelette aux cèpes
and then pièce de Charolais (beef -very tender). A
short easy day.
Sep. 28 (54 km): We headed east out of Céret,
stopping for breakfast in Mauriellas and then got stuck on a
busy road, lots of trucks, for about 10 km before we were able to
turn off on to a quiet country lane. The little road went through
peach and nectarine orchards - lots of them. We stopped for lunch in
Argelès-sur-Mer and then continued to
Argelès-Plage where we walked out on to the beach so we
could say we'd been on the beach on the Mediterranean. After a bit of
a climb, we descended into the beautiful town of Collioure. We
found a hotel (H. St. Pierre) and then began to tour this lovely
little town. The old quarter has a few narrow cobbled streets with
houses painted in beautiful pastel colours. There were lots of
tourists. The church was very ornate, much like the one in
Céret, with an immense main altar, all in gold. We had a very
Mediterranean/Catalan supper outside a tiny restaurant - l'Aloua : a
chilled glass of Banyuls blanc (a sweet Muscat
aperitif), soupe de poisson (fish soup), sardine
à la plancha (grilled fresh sardines),
crème Catalane (custard with a burnt sugar
crust). We had a nice moonlit stroll around the little harbour. A
pleasant easy day.
Sep.
29 (59 km): There was a market in town so of course my
power-shopping partner had to make sure she saw everything. I took
the opportunity to go up to the station to get tickets for the train
trip to Narbonne and Toulouse for the next morning. We headed south
down the coastal highway - incredible
blue sky and blue sea. It was a steep climb out of Collioure
and descent into Port Vendres, a pattern which would repeat
itself all the way down the coast. At Banyuls-sur-Mer we
bought our lunch goodies and then headed inland to the vineyards
planning to buy a bottle of Banyuls blanc at a winery. We stopped at
one about 4 km down the road and they told us they were too involved
in the vendange to take time but we could buy it a kiosk in town so
we headed back only to find the kiosk closed. We continued south -
long climb out of Banyuls, long descent into Cerbere and
finally a long climb up to and just across the Spanish border. Now
our vacation in France could be called our vacation in France and
Spain! We took a photo to verify that we had touched our toes in
Spain and then retraced our route - long descent to Cerbere, long
climb out, etc., etc. At Banyuls the kiosk was still closed so we
gave up on that winery and went to try another
dégustation (tasting). We tried both the
rouge (a rather poor imitation of Port) and the blanc
(as lovely as the one we had tried the night before). We bought a
bottle of the blanc - now we had 3 bottles to bring home. We got back
to Collioure at about 4:30. A great hilly ride in gorgeous sunshine.
It really was spectacular. It's remarkable to see how the
Pyrénées come right up to the sea and then simply
disappear! There's no undersea range of mountains continuing on. They
just stop. It gives credence to the geological theory that Spain is
slowly sliding up over southern France. That theory would also
explain why the Pyrénées are so much steeper on the
French side than on the Spanish side. (Sorry.
Teachable moment! I've been out of the classroom for many years but I
still get the urge when such a moment comes along.) We dined
outdoors again that evening at a nice little restaurant - Les
Lamparos - another good meal (of course). An absolutely splendid day!
Sep. 30: We took the 7:45 train from Collioure to
Narbonne, arriving an hour later. Fortunately our next
connection an hour later left from the same platform so we could
leave our bikes and panniers there while we went in for a coffee and
pastry. The train to Toulouse was a long one - it started in
Marseille and would go all the way to Rennes in Brittany. The baggage
car where I had to load the bikes was 15 cars away from the car where
we had our seats and the train only stopped for two minutes. It was a
little frantic but we made it. At Castelnaudry a large noisy
group of young people boarded the train. When we got into Toulouse we
found out that they were there because of a big student protest about
the number of professors and the class sizes in post-secondary
education. Traffic was gridlocked! We met a cyclist from Seattle in
the station. This was her first cycling trip to Europe, she was solo
and she was camping. Very brave! She had been cycling in the Loire
valley and the Périgord for 3 weeks and she told us she had
still not had a day in which it didn't rain! But she still seemed
positive about her experience. Maybe it's because she's from Seattle
and just assumes that it's going to rain every day. We gave her some
advice about getting around Paris and getting out to Charles de
Gaulle airport with her bike - not impossible but not a lot of fun.
We went to the tourist office, walking our bikes past police vans and
a large number of police officers - we were right in the centre of
the milling crowd of students. We got a list of hotels, tried the
closest one and took it (H. le Capitole -
inexpensive, especially for Toulouse, central and very nice. I wish
we'd found it years ago.) We headed out to do some shopping:
another bottle of wine to fill our quota (a
Pécharmant from Bergerac, a lovely red unavailable so far at
home), a can of foie gras and one of gesiers confits, some
cans of Pelforth Brun, a dark brown beer that would be a treat for a
couple of friends who are fans, etc. We checked out a few restaurant
possibilities. Carol remembered a great meal we had in
Blagnac, a suburb out by the airport, six years before -
grilled sardines! She insisted that we check it out so we bought four
bus tickets (30 F) and headed out to Blagnac. When we got to the
restaurant we found that it was now a pizzeria. You can't go home
again! Back to town. We ended up having pizza anyway and a great
salad with walnuts & gorgonzola. Any day with a train trip is a
busy one.
Oct.
1 (115 km): We had built this extra day into the trip in
case of unexpected problems -like not having anything yet to bring
home to our grandson. So we had a freebie. We cycled out to the
airport so that we'd be sure to know the way the next day and then
continued north to Seilh, where there's a golf resort where
we'd been put up in '93 when our flight home had been delayed a day
by mechanical problems. We crossed the Garonne and immediately got on
to some tiny country lanes, turning
southeast when we crossed the little Girou river. We followed
the river on this road, barely a lane and a half wide, for nearly 30
km before finally turning south. We began a 25 km series of climbs
and descents as we crossed a number of streams between the Girou and
the Canal du Midi and we finished off
with a flat 16 km along the lush tree bordered canal back into
Toulouse. It was a nice ride, although a little too long - a great
way to finish off our trip. Our dinner at Au Gascon was good but not
great.
Oct. 2: There's always a Saturday market in Toulouse. We
wandered around a bit after breakfast, killing time before heading
out to the airport. We got to Blagnac airport at about 11:30,
unloaded the bikes, took the pedals off and turned the handlebars and
then presented ourselves at the check-in counter where there was a
clerk available. She gave us two of the big plastic sacks for the
bikes - unusual, since in France they usually just put the bikes on
the planes "naked" - and I set about putting the bikes in the bags
while Carol carried on with the check-in procedure. A woman came up
to the counter and began talking to our check-in clerk. The clerk
listened to her very rapid French for a minute and then turned to me
and told me that there wasn't room on the plane. The woman who had
been talking to her then told me we would have to wait and they would
see what could be done. I started thinking about how we might get the
bikes home if they really couldn't fit them on. A large group of
people arrived and the check-in staff were quite busy processing them
while we were left cooling our heels. Then we noticed that another
couple were being told that there was no room on the plane. I
realized then that they weren't saying that there was no room for our
bikes. They were saying that there was no room for US!! I
again talked to the woman who told me that they first had to process
this large group and then see what the situation was - we would have
to wait. Why were they processing the group when we had arrived
first? Because it is a group, she said, as if that explained it. When
all the dust settled, there were no seats left on the plane and we
and the other couple were being left behind. What arrangements had
been made for us? They would put us up in a hotel that night, fly us
to London (Gatwick) at 6:45 the next morning and then, after a
5 hour wait in London, fly us to Montréal. Was there nothing
that would get us home that day? Ce n'est pas possible,
monsieur. So they sent us off in a hotel van to that same
golf resort we had been in 6 years earlier. We were stuck there, 20
km from Toulouse, with nothing to do for the remainder of the day and
then we were up before 5:00 in the morning to get back for the early
flight. The taxi that was supposed to pick us up didn't show up but
we were fortunate enough to squeeze into the hotel van with the
flight crew of our plane. At the airport the woman was there to meet
us. The taxi should have been there. She had been promised. She was
désolée! She finally explained that the
reason we were bumped was that Vacances Air Transat had overbooked
the number of seats they had been allocated. The other group who came
in after us had been with Vacances Nouvelles Frontières who, I
assume, hadn't overbooked their allocation. She didn't know how this
could have happened. She was désolée! I
asked her if our bikes and luggage would be checked all the way
through to Montréal. No. We would have to pick up the bikes
and the bags and bring them to the Air Transat check-in at Gatwick.
She was désolée! So, off to Gatwick on a
British Airways flight. We picked up our bikes and bags at the North
terminal and I carried the bikes, still in the bags, to the
South terminal! Five hours after our arrival, with no British
currency with which to buy even a coffee, we were airborne and
arrived back home 26 hours later than scheduled. After we returned
home Vacances Air Transat made us an acceptable offer to compensate
us for our delay and discomfort.
It's too bad it ended on such a sour note because it had been such
a great trip. We've had tours with more interesting sights, chateaux,
museums, etc., but this was the best cycling we had ever had
to date. Almost 1500 km, most of it mountainous. It's no wonder that
despite eating and drinking wonderfully well every day, I lost 13
pounds!
And where will we go next year? I don't know yet. I've been
thinking I'd like to try France. I hear it's not a bad place to
cycle.
Our Other Cycle Trips in Europe