A La Recherche De Temps Perdu

 

The Murders in the Rue Morgue?   No.   Isla  and Paul all graped up.

And so the vines are dying back,  having given up their fruits for our enjoyment.   We visited Sarabande once more to see our grapes being pressed. There will be a short respite for Isla and Paul before their work begins once more in preparing for next year’s crop.   A ten month cycle so far.     From bare black branches in January to the first press.   All by hand for this young couple, using centuries old methods of wine production.

I had always believed in the old adage “Never go back”,  the implication being that you will be disappointed.   Because we want to share the lovely places we visit, we do go back with our visitors and honestly find new things each time we do.

So, back to Beziers to show Maz and Johnny the newly completed palazzo with its musical fountains and water walkways.

The  reason we went on a Tuesday was to browse the antique stalls.   In  a reverse role situation, one of the very French stallholders insisted on photographing Marilyn!

We ate in the square below the cathedral and had the best mussels I have ever eaten.  Gratinéed but plump as little peach pillows.

We have been mercifully free from forest fires in this area but coming back from Beziers we witnessed how threatening they can be.   In the second photo you can just see one of the water carrying planes (Canadairs) trying to put the fire out.  They collect from Lakes, Etangs, any local water source.  There were three, going to and from the site.

And then a visit to Whitstable to surprise some friends attending a 100th birthday party.   Oh it was wonderful to see them.   Their dear remembered faces smiling with pleasure at our return.   And the following day Gazzie golfed and I wandered through Whitstable with Maz in hot autumn sunshine.   Bliss.

Whitstable sunset.  Best in the world.

After a party organised for us to spend more time with friends, we went to be with our daughter and family and visit our grand-daughter in her new home.   All this in four days and only a two hour flight away! Return flights for two @ 60 euros, car hire @ 35 euros.   Cheap as chips.

Back home, we cleaned and polished and fragranced the house in preparation for the first time visit of Lucie, an old friend from Suffolk.   Lucie is a bit of a wine officianado and a gastronome.   So we took her to St. Chinian to taste their wines and to Olargue to taste the food at Les  Fleurs.   Lucie had offered to take us to Octopus in Beziers, awardee of a Michelin star.    However I espied pig’s ear on the menu and decided it was a star too far for my naïve palate.

On the journey up into the hills towards Olargue,  we were discussing the Maquis, the French Resistance fighters, and imagining them hiding in the thickly wooded hillsides.

… and then Lucie discovered this small space beside the river,  dedicated to these brave men and women.   It was deeply moving to stand in the quiet of this unchanging scenery and remember them.

“Place of remembrance and contemplation.   Pass through here often  for they died for your freedom”

Then, a ghostly reminder of the men and animals who hid in thes hillsides here above us, with not a trodden leaf to announce its presence, this beautiful animal watched our contemplations.

And, as the shadows of the past slipped beyond our grasp, we moved back into the gentle afternoon of the present.

Pezenas, the town that never stops giving, not only had the weekly market last week but a “Grand Bazaar”.  This seemed to consist of all the shops having massive sales, a really exciting pipe and drum band and a man talking excitedly into a microphone.   It was innocent, it was fun and it was charming.

With you in mind, dear bloggees, I decided to try to give you a real flavour of the market.  If only we had “smellovision” too!

….. and then the weirdest thing.   I was busy doing these photos for you dear bloggees, when Gazzie interrupted to say, “You won’t believe this.  There goes Dave from Whitstable.”   So we ran after him for cuddles and chats.   When I went through the photos, I had unknowingly photographed him coming out of a shop!

And there was music:

and art:

In buildings like these:

With people like these:

and these:

 

 

and these:

After a day that fed every one of the senses and left us emotionally exhausted, we ventured out on the morrow, to see the new sculptures in Neffiès, the prettiest village ever:

And still, as from time immemorial, the men (and now some women) play boules:

And the Triggs and friends have their first restaurant lunch indoors for three months:

From Jan (by Mistress Phipps)