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Published: September 24th 2022
Our house in Levignac
The top two windows were our room and Tim slept in the roof space. The stairs were steep and a bit dodgy, with no handrail fitted. We were up, showered, packed, and sitting at a table in the Rue de Moulin, opposite the 1850 open air town market building , by 8.30.
The village of Levignac seems to be undergoing somewhat of a renaissance of its own. It is only a 30 minute drive from Toulouse and this village is a perfect blend of commuting and quiet old world charm. A doer upper from the 18th Century will set you back about 150k€. Many of the houses in our street were undergoing refurbishment while still maintaining the period features such as heavy aged beams and lintels, and stone corbels supporting them. Rickety weathered window shutters, barely hanging, seemed to be compulsory, and might be heritage listed, as no work had been done on them.
The French country side is changing as we head south, and palm trees and olive groves , in much more mountainous terrain, are gradually replacing the flat plains of corn, sunflowers and wheat that we passed through yesterday.
Our visit to Carcassonne was brief, and Tim and I went off-road, up a few slippery dirt tracks, in order to avoid the crowds. We were the only people who did, and the
more vertical climb had us wandering within the walls in about 10 minutes. This is one of those places that is better viewed from outside, as this imposing castle has little to offer just within the walls. As we drove up a very steep hill to leave the town, a young woman on a bicycle, struggling up the centre of the one way road, turned and saw us, got stage fright, and just fell sideways, stationary, on to the road. It was pretty funny at first, but we checked on her and she picked her bike up, smiling, as only her pride had been hurt.
Sete, on the Mediterranean Sea, is only an hour away, and it looks like we’re having seafood for lunch. The land at the foothills of this region have vinyards for as far has the eye can see. This area is renowned for its strong red wines, and unlike the champagne producers, these are industrial mechanised concerns. Small villages dot the hillsides, with large castles or monasteries silhouetted against the sun, on mountain peaks.
Séte has the largest fishing fleet on the French Mediterranean, and increased the size of the canals to accommodate more, and
larger boats. It is a little off the standard tourist path but it was the highlight of my day. The smaller canals as you approach the centre of town are crammed with a mix of gloss new high powered launches, putt- putt boats, boats covered in seaweed and barnacles that have been used for years, and those classic double ended boats with a pointed bow at both ends. I’ve built a traditional clinker sail dinghy, and really enjoy running a critical eye over other wooden boats, as if I am some sort of authority on them. Well, I suppose I am ‘ some‘ sort of authority but what sort depends on who you are listening to. The bright sunny day and the brightly painted mixture of fishing boats set us up for a relaxing few hours by the water, and it’s nice to just sit back and ponder the alternatives; none were better than this.
In the main canal, large million dollar fishing boats sit proudly among the smaller rusting workhorses, and they all head out for up to a week at a time, only to return, and resupply the local markets, and sell fish for export. Every restaurant
along the canals cater for seafood dishes, and the menu is dependent on what is available fresh, and the flair of the chefs who prepare it. I had stuffed mussels in a fettuccine pasta with a tomato seafood sauce. This was followed up by a coffee, and an ice cream cone from Amorinos, a chain of shops that serve up mouthwatering flavours in a cone, layered up to resemble a rose. I first had one of those in Porto, Portugal, and bought a souvenir scoop in the hope that i could replicate their flowers. Haven’t succeeded yet.
Séte‘s waterfront reminds me of a miniature Porto. Obviously the canals aren’t as wide as the Douro River, but the boats and the lively waterside activity certainly has the same feel.
Next cab off the rank was Montpellier, an inland city about 40 minutes from Séte. I can’t pretend to know the history of this city, but it has a large central square bordered by large domed regal buildings that wouldn’t be out of place in Paris. It’s pretty lively, and buskers attracting moving hoops of people around them, all trying hard not to be noticed and drawn in as a
Orphanage of Levignac
Operated by the Congregation of the Sisters of the Charity of St Vincent de Paul, it operated during WWII, and sheltered Jewish children whos lives were in danger, between 1942 - 1944. prop, compete with humanitarian protesters calling for justice in persecuted countries - no names given here - and even an African preacher conducting a prayer gathering under the shade of some trees. Thinking back, I think the busker was the most popular; funny that. We ate dinner in a large shopping mall, zigzagged up and down narrow alleyways, with medieval buildings servicing business professionals, hairstylists, lots of small bars, and the occasional pile of rubbish stacked up in an alcove. The shopping strips cater for high end shoppers with money to burn. Leather goods, shoes, bags, coats, pants and dresses are all well represented, and the sellers are not shy about pricing. There is even a posh children’s clothes shop, and Sue picked up a child’s top, which I concede was nice, and held it up to admire it. Tim commented that if you buy 2 you get an extra one for free.
“Gee, that’s okay,” I said. “What do they cost ?”
” 49€, each.”
”Not a chance. Forget it”, I said.
Who buys this stuff?
As we returned to the car, a lady in a small boutique food and local preserved produce store leapt
out and ushered us into her little shop of wonders. It was well stocked with preserved artisan fish bits, jellies, dried fruit and meat, and a range of preserved vegetables in small jars with big prices. Every time we moved an inch, she hovered, spruiking the local nature of her wares, until I was reminded of the creepy couple who ran a store with local goods for local people, in League of Gentlemen, a cult TV show from 1999. I had to get out. Another couple of unsuspecting wanderers entered the store, so I slipped out behind the owner as she swooped on them. Sue and Tim hung around, and I just squeeze tested fruit at the green grocers next door until they reappeared.
We still had an hour and a half to go until we arrived at St Remy de Provence, where we have four wonderful nights. No packing up every day, shorter outings, but plenty to see and a few interes local villages to explore. As we approached the main plaza of the vill, obviously no one had told Google Maps that the carnival was in town, and we were sent on
a 10 minute diversion before
reaching our home for Four days. It’s a pretty cool little house and is very reminiscent of the 1960’s beach houses you sea along Australia’s east coast. It has everything we need, although no block out curtains on the bedrooms could see some early starts. We’ll see.
While we’re here, I’m hoping to see the pink flamingos in the wetlands, visit the town where Vincent Van Gogh created some of his most important works, and just chill out, ready to go to Switzerland, we’re I have to install a dishwasher, and visit some friends and the Alps.
Catch up tomorrow.
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