Italy, France And Portugal: There and Back Again @tuscanwalker - Tumblr Blog

Oct 5: Beziers & Sete - The Consolation Prize - Cumulative Distance 270 km

My hotel is such fun. As you can see from the pictures, they have preserved the structure of the main cell block and the rooms are entered through cell doors in the galleries. I must admit, it was a bit odd having to force my way through a tour group to get to my room this afternoon. Last night, there was also a classical music concert on the lower floor of the cell block Attended by 80-100 people.

When I was planning this trip I decided to walk the Canal du Midi from Toulouse all the way to Sete where it empties into the Mediterranean. However, after I had already locked in my flights to London, I did a bit more research and decided that a 2 day side trip to Narbonne might in order. Thus, I dropped a day in London and a 6-7 hour walking day to Sete. This decision was also influenced by the fact that once the canal reaches Agde on the coast, it empties into Thau Lagoon. Boats then sail 2 km down the Lagoon and then use a canal a couple of hundred metres long to cross the barrier island and enter the Mediterranean Sea, so actually no real canal at this point.

Today, travelling by train instead of on foot, I limped 1.5 km down to the Gare and took a 25 minute ride to Sete. The island is barren and windy, occasionally interrupted by salt marshes. Definitely anticlimactic, but had to be done. Back to Beziers and a couple of hours recovering from the walk to the station. At least I did not have to climb up that enormous hill to the Cathedral as seen in the picture yesterday (my hotel is right beside it on the same plaza). The city has thoughtfully installed three elevators with arial walkways in between.

It is Sunday, so there was no visiting the Cathedral of St Naziere and St Celeste until the afternoon. I understand that after a while they may all look the same, but I find the art inspiring and the architecture interesting and, most of all, I marvel at the Faith (which I do not have) that built these places. Anyway, off to supper soon and then an Uber and a train back to Toulouse tomorrow. Home on Wednesday.

I expect that, unless I am confident at some point that my back is completely healed (ain’t gonna happen), this is my last blog entry on a long walk (more than 100km). I simply cannot take the risk of a similar injury on most long trails. It would be unfair to Kim if we are walking together and unsafe for me if I am walking alone. I would like to thank those of you who have followed this blog and for all your good wishes and support. I would particularly like to thank Kim and my amazing extended/blended family without whom these walks, with a combined length of about 3,000 km, could never have happened.

Oct 4: Beziers - God Does Not Go With Me - 19.4 km, 36,400 steps

At lunch yesterday, I noticed a restaurant in the Place Jean Jaures that advertised wood fired pizza so I tried it last night. Alas, when I saw the menu I was intrigued by “Tagliatelle Roquefort” as I love blue cheese. I should have stuck with the pizza. To quote Wolfgang Puck, it was “an insult to all things Italian”. Soft and mushy pasta under a bland and pasty sauce that had only a distant acquaintance with Roquefort. 😞

The walk itself was also a bit of a disappointment today. While I had some great coffee stops in a couple of towns, there were few trees along the way and it was very windy. While I had earlier taken joy from the tall pines standing guard over the canal like soldiers, I now saw only stumps that reminded me of the rows of headstones in the cemeteries of Normandy. A high point was the 190 m long Malpas Tunnel which I arrived at after an hour walking on the Via Domitia, a Roman Road (or at least that’s what the sign said, it was actually buried under asphalt). The canal builder Pierre-Paul Riquet finished the tunnel in only 8 days, one day before a stop-work order arrived from the king at the behest of the local governor. Here I met a couple from Kamloops (one of whom you can see climbing the stairs) who encouraged me to take the tunnel. I decided against it given the steep stairway and the possibility my cart would not make it through.

The woman in St Etienne was sadly wrong. God was not with me today unless it was to punish me. Yesterday, about 5 km from my destination my right leg and back began to ache. By the time I arrived i was decidedly uncomfortable but with some diligent physio exercises, copious amounts of beer/wine and a good night’s rest, I thought I was on the mend. I headed out around 8 (later than usual) as the estimated distance of 17km was relatively short. By 5 km I knew this was likely a mistake and by 10 km at the tunnel, I was certain of it. By that time it seemed easier to continue on rather than turn around. While the pain was easily manageable in some sections, I found difficult to walk in others. I shed my cart straps and pulled it like a rickshaw as this was more work but less painful. There was little else to do as Uber does not pick up on tow paths. All in all, it took me 8 hours to travel about 19km (<2.5 km/hour) to Béziers.

As I finally arrived on the outskirts of Beziers I reached another marvel from the 1670s, the nine Fonserannes locks. They allow a drop of 22 m so that the canal could briefly join the Orbe River. As I could not find a reasonable hotel near the canal I had booked an Air B&B style accommodation in an apartment near the river. When I arrived, I found the key box attached to a broken-off post in the parking lot of an abandoned building across the street. While this did not look promising, I persevered. After negotiating a long narrow, dirty corridor and finding myself at bottom of a very narrow spiral stair case which I needed to climb for two floors, I surrendered. My walk is done, one day short of my destination on the coast in the beach town of Agde. Sometimes discretion truly is the better part of Valour.

As I stood in the street dejected, I thought WWLD (What would Lu-Anne Do) and did it. I sat on a curb, pulled up booking.com on my phone and found the most expensive centrally located hotel in town complete with rooftop pool. I booked it for two nights so that I did not have to haul my luggage down to the coast on a train tomorrow (I will still go just to see the Med). This meant abandoning the B&B here and possibly the hotel in Agde, but it would also save me having to change trains with luggage on the way back. I took a $30 Uber ride and am ensconced in what literally was once a cell in the Hotel de Prison. There is no price too high to get rid of unwanted stress.

Oh, and when I saw this on the trail today I thought of Zadie, Aurelia, Lucas and Logan in my backyard and it made me smile and forget the pain for a little while.

Oct 3: Capestang - A Breathtaking Moment - 24.5 km, 36,600 steps

A quiet evening at Le Somail last night. Enjoyed dinner and the usual people watching but nothing worth writing about. I just sat in the garden of my B&B (where there is wifi), read my newspapers/book and scratched an affectionate family kitten behind the ears..

In an interesting aside for those of you have worked for the Alberta Government, I am currently reading Rogue Heroes, a book about the British Special Air Service (SAS) in WWII. One of the acknowledgements is to a Major Roy Farran, whose name you may know from when he was Alberta’s Solicitor General in the Lougheed government until 1979. I also took a Polysci course in the 1980s where Lougheed, Merv Leitch and Mr. Farran were “Visiting Professors” for 2 lectures each. I never heard him talk about his service but a reference by the course prof made me do some research. Born in India, he joined the SAS in North Africa early in the war and also fought with them in Italy and France. He was repeatedly decorated for bravery, receiving the Distinguished Service Order and Military Cross with two bars, eventually commanding 3 Sqdn of 2 SAS. Sadly, he was later court-martialed for beating an unarmed 17 year old Jewish boy (terrorist suspect) to death during Britain’s Palestine Mandate. This provoked a revenge letter bomb attack by Haganah, killing his brother by mistake. My memories are of a physically small, quiet, slow speaking man who did not seem to suffer fools gladly, but this is forty years ago so it may be considerably altered by time. If you are interested, it is worth looking up his Wikipedia entry which reads like a ridiculously far fetched adventure movie.

Off early again as this will be a long day. Based on this chariot trip and my advancing age, I will try to plan any future walks, that are over rougher terrain, with a 20 km a day maximum. I expect that more than that would be unsustainable day after day. Today was the first day that my back really bothered me, with pain down my right rather than my left leg. Yes Trent, I am now doing my phsio exercises bilaterally, although the other bar patrons at Cafe de la Paix this afternoon were looking at me somewhat puzzled.

The day started off with genuine regret as I left Dominique and the kittens. I soon passed La Maison du Patiasse but sadly Tina and her dog did not appear to be up yet so I simply left my calling card with a note of thanks. Crossing the junction that I took south on Wednesday, I saw few other walkers or bikers except a gentleman who stopped me to ask about the chariot and turned out to be, you guessed it, another Neiderlander. Fun sightings on walk were this sign warning or either a scary cat of a scaredy cat, I am not sure which (I think I will make one to warn people about Monty), a piano that clearly had seen better days and a miniature golf course. The trail was flat, without a single lock all day. For the canal to stay at this same level and not cross any hills (which would require a water source at the highest point) it meandered endlessly through the countryside almost doubling my walk. While it is only 13 km to Capestang as the crow flies, I am not a crow. At one point (21 km) I was on the outskirts of town, only to double back and meander into the countryside again.

I arrived about 2 pm and plodded to the central square looking for lunch only to find that all but the seafood restaurant were closed or closing for the afternoon. Smugly thinking my French was adequate to the task, I ordered what I thought was mussels and shrimps. It seemed like an odd combination at the time and I was half right. The huge platter did include shrimp, but it also included a half dozen each of whelks (sea snails) and raw oysters on the half shell. I have never had either before, but was so hungry that I simply closed my eyes and carried on. A bit underwhelming for the price, but OK.

Before meeting Alexandra (and her two friendly cats) at le Auberge de la Canal, I stepped into the 13th century Collegiate Church of St Etienne and had what may be the most moving experience of any trip that I have ever taken. As I stepped inside, the only other person in the church was a woman standing before the alter, singing a cappalla. It was enhanced by the acoustics of the church and her voice was very beautiful (Reminded me of the Bapistry in Pisa). Not wishing to interrupt the moment, I waited at the back in awe until she finished. As she passed me to leave, I told her how lovely her song was. We engaged in quite a long conversation, (maybe 15 minutes in broken English/French) and she asked if I would like to hear another song. When I said yes, she took me by the hand, let me to the alter and sang like an angel, never letting go. When she finished she gave me a hug, told me God was with me, and left. While I am not a very religious person, it is impossible to describe the emotional impact it had.

Oct 2: Return to Somail - It’s Always About Wine - 19.9 km, 32,100 steps

Wandering the city yesteday, I learned that the defining moment in Narbonne’s history had nothing to do with the Romans, the Glorious Revolution or Napoleon, it was the Revolt of the Vignerons (wine makers) in 1907. For years their markets were eroded by cheap wine from Algeria and stronger wine made by adding sugar during fermentation (chaptalization). Some of this “fake wine” did not even include any grapes in the process. While protests took place over many years, mass demonstrations (up to 600,000) across southern France in 1907 led President George Clemenceau to send in the army. The only problem was that one regiment (17th) revolted and joined the winemakers (probably during a drinking party). If you look, you will find memorials, plaques and pictures of the revolt all over the city . Even my hotel had a picture of the 17th regiment bivouacked right outside the door, which they displayed prominently in the lobby. In the end Clemenceau blinked and strict quality laws were enacted.

I left early this morning, just as the Thursday market was opening up in the Market Hall and along the canal quay. There was little of the junk the usually fills such markets. Instead it was almost all fresh food including lots of mussels, oysters and other seafood as well as quality meat, vegetables, fruits and baked goods. Interspersed along the way were other good quality, local products and handicrafts, and hot food to go like paella and rotisserie chicken. Picture the best of an Edmonton farmers’ market with more emphasis on fresh produce and then increase it’s size X 10. There was even a small bar in the middle of the market much like in the Mercat de la Boqueria in Barcelona. Sadly, the bar was not yet open at 8:00 but I did manage to get a pan au raisin for the road at another stall.

Actually a pretty good walking day as I knew where I was going and had a better sense of my progress. When I reached the railway bridge again about 11, I also found a less dangerous access that was hidden behind brambles yesterday. On the far side of the river crossing, I ran into some Aussies from Melbourne who paced me and chatted for about a kilometer. They were stopping for lunch at the next town, but I carried on as I like to be at my destination before the heat of the day. I noticed this time that all the locks along the Canal du Rabine have either a sluice or a weir as the water flow seems to greatly exceed the needs of the lock operation. This is the opposite of the Midi where drought has caused lock keepers to wait until locks are full with as many boats as possible before operating them.

Interesting how some people (sometimes me included) think they know better than to follow the rules. At many bridges and aquaducts, the path is made of concrete imbedded with smooth rocks. There are always signs telling people to get off their bikes and walk them. The picture below is a couple on a tandem bike doing just that. Twice in the last few days I have seen people ignore these signs and go down. In one case, on the other side of the canal, a woman actually fell in. Her partner quickly pulled her out but the bike disappeared. I expect she will have some explaining to do the bike rental company if it was not her own.

On the way back to Somail, I met up with Tina and her dog again and stopped for a while at her Maison de la Patiasses. As I left, she asked that I say “hello” to her friend Dominique, my landlady in Somail. On arrival, I was greeted by my entourage in all their honking splendour. I have now reassessed the intent of these geese. If you look closely in the pictures, you will see a large pot belly close to the ground that is their livers being plumped up for Foie gras. This is done by sliding a tube down their throat multiple times a day and pumping corn meal into their stomach. Far from resisting this process, I understand they often mob the feeder. I think I may look like him/her which explains the attraction Every time they got close they would align their mouths and throat straight up, as if looking to be fed.

Oct 1: Narbonne - Goodness Gracious, I’ve Been Goosed - 19.9 km, 36,300 steps

About 7 last night, I wandered out to find some dinner passing by a lovely church and chapel that date to the building of the canal in the 17th Century. A bit further on, I stopped to read a menu and happened to note a small gaggle of geese milling about on a pathway. Suddenly, for no apparent reason they all turned and waddled purposefully toward me. If you know geese, you will know they can be very territorial and aggressive. Mars (Roman God of War) kept a goose as his familiar. A bit nervous, I beat a hasty retreat but the geese followed. We hurried along for a couple of hundred yards through the village, much to the amusement of passers by. I quickly ducked into the patio of another restaurant and grabbed a table , but the geese promptly settled down on a patch of grass out front. They may have been deterred from entering by the enormous Newfoundland dog at the next table. They sat there throughout my dinner but when I left I seemed to have become much less fascinating. Dinner was a great avocado and shrimp salad but let’s just say I was a bit too distracted to fully enjoy it.

Today I leave the Canal du Midi for a two day side trip down the Canal du Robine and the Canal du Jonction which connects the two. Together they form an alternate route to the Mediterranean and 17 km along this route is Narbonne. Give my fascination with the Romans, Narbonne should be no surprise. It was the crossroads of the Via Aquitaine to Bordeaux and the Via Domitia, which is the route Hannibal and his elephants took from Spain on the way to create mayhem in Italy.

Early on I met a Dutch/Swiss woman who has retired by the canal and was very interested in what she called my “chariot”. This sounds so much better than dog cart that I think I will use it from now on. She was the first of four Neiderlanders I met today. They seem to like riding along the canal as it reminds them of home (flat). I note that two other people stopped me take ask for info on my “chariot” and both took down details to search it. I should get a commission.

At the first canal junction I saw some boats that seemed oddly out of place. The first was a British narrow boat named after the river rats I talked about in an earlier post. I have no idea how it would get across the Channel. Next were three Dutch sailing vessels of a type that I have usually seen on the Zeider Zee. They have a shallow draft and no centre keel but instead have a drop keel on either side. I’m not sure how often these boats would raise sail, as it would be difficult to tack on a canal.

For the next 5 km down the Jonction Canal I saw no one and no boats. On reaching the Aude River, where the two canals both end about 100 m apart, the cycling guidebook I was using informed me that it was an interesting place to visit but there was no way to cross the river here and that a 2-3 km detour was required. Once again ignoring common sense, I crossed on an abandoned iron railway trestle and bridge. I knew it was abandoned because the tops of the rails were rusty. Once I reached the far side I discovered a gate complete with concertina wire which someone had kindly broken down. I also discovered a ridiculously steep narrow staircase that was not chariot friendly.

The next 10 km were largely uneventful other than a few dog walkers and a Dutch woman who asked if I was coming from Narbonne. She apparently got confused entering the canal path and had turned the wrong way. We both had a good laugh before she returned the way she had come. With regards to dogs; many over the past 10 days have been off leash but all have been well behaved and under control.

This side trip has been on rougher trails with a lot of larger stones and tree roots waiting to trip you up. While the tree lined canal (umbrella pines) was beautiful reminded me of the old days, the trails required more work and were harder on the feet. When I pulled into Narbonne about 2, the bottoms of my feet were aching badly. This may have been owing in part to choosing trail runner over hiking shoes this trip. The soles are softer and while they would work most of the time in France to Portugal, I would not recommend them for the hikes we did in Tuscany.

Narbonne is a small city with a number of large churches, a Cathedral, an archeological museum in the city hall and a great looking market hall which I understand is best on a Thursday and Saturday mornings. I will try to drop in as I am leaving town tomorrow to return to Somail. My favourite site was not any of the ancient monuments that would normally have me excited, but an amazing contemporary statue in the museum courtyard. I love the way that European cities carefully mix the old and the new into a great synthesis.

Lunch was great, but will likely revolt many of you. I love Moules frites and had a 1 kg bucket of mussels with a creamy blue cheese sauce in addition to the usual white wine, onions and garlic. And, with Moules frites, one must drink beer. It was unexpected, but very, very good and I planned to return for a second helping at dinner. However when I returned, I found they are open every night until 23:00 except Wednesdays when they close at 16:00.

Sept 30: Le Somail - Circle the Wagons - 21.3 km, 33,400 steps

Last evening was a lovely and while I wandered to dinner, it was fun to see about a dozen small bats flying overhead and hunting insects at dusk. Several swooped within a couple of feet of my head before veering off. I am beginning to think that the “1,500 nesting boxes” listed on the government signs about canal rehabilitation have nothing to do with birds. The 20 or so boxes that I have seen so far appear far more suited to fuzzy rather than feathered flying creatures.

I will NOT wax lyrical about last night’s’ dinner. The pizza at lunch was great, but dinner at Le Peniche made me particularly sad because Covid had not eliminated my sense of taste. Let’s just say no salad should have greens floating, limply in a pool of vinaigrette at the bottom of the bowl. By comparison, Le Jardin de Homps (my B&B) was great and breakfast was fantastic.

Off early, coughing and sneezing. The forecast is for a sunny 23 which makes afternoons a little less comfortable for walking than the cloudy highs in the teens that I have had so far. Heavy on the sunscreen but I failed to bring deet, which I soon regretted as the mosquitos descended upon me despite the efforts of all the swallows. I only wish the bats would come out to help in daytime.

I met few other walkers/riders today other than a couple of Neiderlanders (Dutch) who spoke perfect English (of course) and the Canadians from last night who passed me about 10. Shortly thereafter, where the canal path ran parallel to a highway, I saw the strangest sight: five, 4 door, white Tesla 3s, being led by a sixth (red) one. There is probably some mundane explanation for this, but I like to think that they were travelling in a convoy or as a wagon train as protection from the hostiles. Where is John Wayne (or Elon Musk and his chain saw) when you need him.

I continued down the canal and met up with yet another lock keeper who is manufacturing his own friends. This seems a pretty good job as most locks are only open 9-5, and closed for an hour at lunch (this is the French civil service after all). In fact, a couple I passed do not open until 11 and I would guess that less than 20 boats a day pass by this time of year. I stopped for a cafe at one lock and a second in the town of Argens Minervois where Canal du Midi’s version of a cruise ship was moored. It looks like 8 cabins largely below the water line which is much like the Dahabiya I took down the Nile.

Just before noon, I came to a point where the official bike path veered away from the canal. Being an experienced walker and a somewhat arrogant twit, I ignored the signs and carried on along the canal. About a km down the canal the pathway disappeared as the canal bank and the highway merged to only a few feet apart. This is how I came to haul my trailer over a three foot fence and then trudge down a highway dodging cars and trucks for half an hour while being beeped at repeatedly. I just think they wanted to express their appreciation for my fearlessness and my cool cart.

Once I was able to return to the regular path, I arrived in Paraza and was confronted by my nemesis, a wine tasting room (the impressive building above). As most of you know, the very idea of free wine usually dissolves what little self control I possess. Nonetheless, in this case I was able to resist bravely, in part because I am still not feeling great. It also helped that I could not get near the bar past a large group of Kiwis off a couple of boats in harbour.

I plodded into Le Somail about 1:30 and decided to grab lunch before the restaurants closed for the afternoon break. The Plat de Jour was Steak-Frites, so what could I do but add a glass of red to make up for the tasting I missed. When I asked for my steak medium rare, the waitress responded “pink in the middle”. I was a bit surprised, but I needn’t have worried as she is obviously colour blind. When it arrived, the steak was barely seared on the outside and was a deep bloody red in the middle.

Anyway, I am now ensconced for the evening in my little cottage at the Auberge. After a shower and a rest I will venture out for another dinner, hopefully better than last night’s.

Courtesy of Bob Foulkes, a good friend and an inspiration that Kim and I met on the Via Francesco.

Sept 29: - Homps - 23.1km - 33,800 steps

It’s official, I’m sick. I’ve been feeling rotten since Friday but finally my body surrendered this morning. I have a fever, cough, chest congestion and stuffy head. I have no idea if it’s Covid as I did not bring tests but my Essex outlaw Brenda just informed me by email that she got sick Saturday and has tested positive. Possibly we caught it as the same place or maybe I have something else. Of well, not much to do but walk on and try to walk it off. As of today I have travelled 160 km in 7 of my 13 planned walking days, so I am over half way there.

Dinner at the Cafe de la Terrasse last night was great. As I am unwell, I decided on something healthy, Salade de Chèvre Chaud. It never occurred to me that it would be served with at least a quarter pound of lardons on top. Oh well, I always say that there is nothing that doesn’t taste better with bacon. At dinner, I also met two pleasant women from Maine and Dallas. When the latter found out I was Canadian, she took pains to stress that she was not MAGA and, although she was Republican, she had voted for Beto O’Rourke. Luckily, the Cafe opened again at 7 the next morning, so I was able to get coffee and croissant before hitting the road.

I saw absolutely no one on the trail (not even a dog walker) until km 8 when I stopped at a lock-side coffee/souvenier cubby hole and a woman peddled up from the other direction. She was the Amie, a very charming woman heading north to Toulouse. Originally from Rotterdam, she now lives in Amsterdam near the Hortus botanical gardens that Lu-Anne and I had visited when we were there. I was really enjoying our conversation, but eventually I had to tear myself away and hit the road again.

No matter how routine, each day is full of surprises. Today’s list includes being passed by a bicycle built for two and seeing what I thought was an electric blue hummingbird (but they are only found in the Americas). There were also trees whose leaves were pure white on one side so they looked almost artificial when they moved in the wind. Further along these same trees were having their trunks painted white by work crews I assume were applying some kind of insecticide. At one lock, I was able to fill my pockets with 6 beautiful, ripe plums (€2.5) that I enjoyed the rest of the day. At another, one of the lock keepers (who obviously had too much time on his hands and was a bit lonely) had made himself some friends to keep him company. They reminded of the welded “Trolls” on the forest trails on my hike through the Rhine River Gorge.

I arrived in Homps a couple of hours before check-in so I grabbed a late lunch and did a bit of sightseeing. As (awkwardly) I had to haul my cart around behind me, I included that mileage in today’s total. I arrived at my B&B around 3 and was greeted with a glass of champagne by the pool and a Calgary couple biking their way up the canal. The B&B is the most gorgeous old (?) mansion complete a huge central staircase and my enormous room (they assured me it was not a dorm) had lovely period furniture and hand moulded plasterwork. Very different from last night.

Paroisse Notre-Dame en Minervois and The Tower of the Chevaliers (Knights Hospitalier of St John, a militant order similar to the Knights Templar.

Sept 28: - Marseillette - 22.8 km - 36,700 steps

Up early and a great breakfast at the hotel Astoria but I continue to fight what I believe is a bit of a chest cold or allergy. It always makes walking a bit more of a challenge if you are having trouble breathing. My fitness watch identified that over the day that, while I still felt pretty good, my pace on the way out of Carcassonne had measurably dropped from my pace on the way into town by 1/4 to 1/2 km per hour, both gross and net of breaks. For this of you still more interested in the cart than the walk, I have included a couple of pictures: arms down for use as a luggage trolly and up for use as a hiking trailer. If you want to see the full picture without tumblr’s auto crop, just tap on it once.

It was another largely uneventful but very picturesque day. I only see the occasional plane trees now and the canal is lined mostly with young newly planted aspens, oaks planted 10-15 years ago and a few mature umbrella pines. Heron and cranes continue to fly overhead and I saw perhaps two dozen newly excavated burrows that I assume were River rats (nutria). I suppose that they could have been badger holes, but they seemed smaller than those I had seen hiking in Germany and I easily avoided the temptation to stick my hand in and find out.

The high point of the day came around 11 when I unexpectedly walked into Trebes (pop 5,000 ish) which I had forgotten was on today’s route. It was market day beside the canal so the area was bustling with locals, many of whom asked questions I did not understand about me and my trailer (I suspect many were variations on “What the hell is that, you crazy foreigner?”). I had a welcome cafe-o-lait and then a lunch from a trailer/food truck that involved chicken being spatchcocked and cooked on a rotisserie. Very juicy and tasty I might add.

The afternoon was again picturesque. The only thing of note is that the canal is busy enough since Castelnaudary that lock keepers are on duty at each lock rather than operating self-serve as they were earlier in the trip. As well, I am now on the section from Beziers to Carcassonne that is part of a the Camino that runs from Montpellier to St-Jean-Pied-de-Port (Start of the Camino Frances)

I rolled into Marseillette about 2 pm and hauled my trailer up and over a long steep hill (groan here for effect) before being greeted by an elderly woman in her housecoat, her aged dog and nervous cat who showed me the “Jolie studio récemment rénové” where I would spend the night. While I had hoped to use the kitchenette to make something to comfort my cold (soup perhaps), alas the only épicerie (grocery) in this town of 700 is closed on Sundays. However I did find a Cafe, although it really seems to be more of a bar. Nonetheless, it serves food and is open until 10 tonight. As you can see from the sign, it is a bit worn around the edges but everyone was welcoming and it is the only game in town.

Sept 27: Carcassonne Day 2 - The Castle on the Hill - O km - 16,800 steps

WARNING: POTENTIALLY FATAL BOREDOM AHEAD

This is the high point of the trip for me, but for most of you it will simply be a cure for insomnia. I will try to keep it mercifully brief (which you all know is a challenge for me), but when you start to doze off (not if) simply advance to tomorrow’s blog where I will be walking down the canal again.

I have seen a lot of castles but this one is right up there with the best. The hilltop was first fortified by the Romans around 70 BC, with Julius Caesar’s army trudging past a dozen years later on its way to conquer Gaul (for reliable historic details, see Asterix and Obelisk comics🤣). The first stone curtain wall was built in the Fourth Century to repel the the barbarians descending from Germany. It was over 1.2 km long and was composed of small stone blocks and brick with a defensive tower about every 50 metres, several of which survive today. Despite these formidable defences the fortress was ceded to the Visigoths (wise Goths) in 462.

Over the next few centuries the area was conquered by the Franks from the North (pesky Germans again), the Muslims and Berbers up from Spain and then the Franks again. By the 12th century, what we call modern day France was divided down the middle with the Angevin Empire (Henry II Duke of Normandy and King of England, and his wife Eleanor of Aquitaine) controlling the western half and Francia (land of the Franks) controlling the eastern half (for reliable historical details see The Lion in Winter with Peter O’Toole and Katherine Hepburn😂). This border would later become the front line of the 100 years war in the 14th-15th centuries.

Now that I have you totally confused, I will throw one more complicating factor into the story of Carcassonne. In the 12th century, southern France was actually more Basque than French, spoke Occitan and regularly disputed French Rule. At the same time, it became the home of a Christian offshoot called Catharism. I won’t bore you with all their differences, but one aspect of their belief system was that the Catholic Church had become too materialistic and should return to the Christian values of poverty and good works.

Always open to differing opinions about his spending habits, Pope innocent III proclaimed the Albigensian Crusade in 1208 and Knights from across Europe (including the Templars) rallied for the promise of land grants, plunder and get out of purgatory free cards (indulgences). Several major towns were sacked including Beziers where 20,000 inhabitants were put to the sword when the Papal legate declared “Slaughter them all, God will know his own”. Carcassonne, the largest Cathar fortress, fell in 1209 after a 15 day siege when the water supply was cut off. New fortifications including a second curtain wall were subsequently added, a House of Inquisition was built and the Cathedral was upgraded by adding a Gothic section (pointed arches and lots of stained glass) to the Romanesque section (round arches and tiny windows). Today, what was the cloister is now the venue for the annual theatre festival.

After the 15th century, Carcassonne gradually fell into disrepair and its fortifications were mined for cut stone and sold off to masons (builders, not the Shriners). In 1840, it was declared a National Monument which led to the huge restoration we see today.

After 2 hours spent in the land of history geeks and walking the entire circumference of the ramparts, who do I meet on the way down the hill? Once again it was the Kiwis on bikes, I am unsure who is stalking who. Anyway after a quick chat and a picture, I wandered back into the town to visit the Saturday markets. Even the best was about 1/4 fresh produce/food with 3/4 being a junkyard of clothes and trinkets common at such flee markets. Yes, that is a huge wok full of garlic snail that we’re selling like hotcakes (but no maple syrup). Fun people watching though.

After lunch I spent the entire afternoon try to straighten out my part in the promised “seamless transition” caused by the takeover of the Canadian Western Bank by the National Bank. Despite OVER 2 HOURS ON THE PHONE, they were not able to resolve my problem and asked me to call back Monday. James, there will be a reconning. The only good part was that the repeated stretches on hold, while the buck was passed up the line, allowed me to write most of this blog.

Special Request

I have had a literal avalanche of requests (OK, maybe 3 is not an avalanche) for a picture of me towing my dog cart. Here is a picture of my cart resting on a bench en-route. I am currently on a laundry day in Carcassonne but will try to rope someone into acting as photographer when I am back on the road. The trailer weighs 16 lbs, the carry case, tools and spare parts (which I need to carry it with me in Europe) weigh another 5 lbs and my backpack and daypack about 22 lbs. When well balanced on flat and level ground, there is about 5lbs pressure on the hip belt and it seems almost effortless (hands free). I can maintain a pace similar to carrying a day pack (5 km an hour) for most of the day. Nonetheless, on rough ground or going up even a gentle hill, you are quickly reminded that you are pulling 45 lbs.

When packed up in its nylon bag/case, it is a size that airlines recognizes as a standard checked bag. My 40L backpack is my carry-on and my 15L daypack is my personal item. Made in China (cheapest if shipped direct) it is designed and sold by a US company. I purchased it during the Biden presidency, before “elbows up”. It costs $549 US but goes on sale for 25% off several times every year. There is also an adaptor bracket available to tow it on bike trips.

Sept 26: Carcassonne -The Castle on the Hill - 26.3 km - 42,800 steps

For dinner last night, our hostess recommended l’Oiseau just 1.4 km down the canal at the port of Bram. I tried to make a reservation but failed, so I waited until 7:15 and set off down the canal. Just before reaching the port, a tour-group of Kiwis went by on electric bikes. The very last one stopped to let me know that l’Oiseau was closed (they got through by phone) but there was another restaurant a couple of km further on in the town. I rapidly trailed after them while making a reservation on my cell. Dinner was lovely and, for the first time in 8 trips to France, I ordered the classic steak frites, keeping in mind that here, medium-rare was likely to be rare or blue-rare. It was great, though obviously not very healthy, so I compensated by adding grape juice (fermented of course). Coming back along the unlit canal was a bit risky, but I managed to avoid a face plant in the dark.

Breakfast was at 8, so I set off at 9 while the New Zealanders were still busy chatting around the table. I was very thankful they were behind me though, as about 11 they dropped by on the trail to deliver a surprise present. I had brought a couple of freeze dried meals and an immersion heater with me from home in case any accommodations simply did not have dinner options within walking distance. Apparently, when unpacking, they had dropped behind the bed and the landlady discovered them while making up my room. Thank heaven for Kiwis.

Another uneventful but cloudy day on the trail which thankfully keeps it comfortable for walking. Most sections were barren of trees or newly planted, but several had old oaks which added to the shade and ambiance. Along the way were many signs stating that, so far, they had cut down 39,000 plane trees, planted 19,000 new trees, restored 65 km of canal bank and installed 1,500 nesting boxes. I assume that the latter are to compensate for the lack of mature trees for birds to nest in. I also saw a number of bat boxes I assume were put up for the same reason, plus some diseased trees marked for distraction.

Further up the trail, I was hailed by two bike riders from Tsawwassen (she is originally from France but has been in Canada for 20 years) who had spotted my Canada flag. They live only a couple of blocks from the US border and were quite animated about their distaste for the politics down south, although they did acknowledge that none of the Americans they have met in Europe were members of MAGA. ( Yes, I did check cousin George, but they did not know you (or at least would not admit it 😂)). They paced me on their manual bicycles for a couple of kilometres before peddling off down the canal. I am often hailed by people on the tourist boats who then point to my cart/trailer. I am never sure whether they are encouraging me or ridiculing me, or both.

First vineyard of the trip, with a TGV (high speed train)line running through it.

This is one of many bridges over the canal, which usually are at or near locks. As they were almost all built from the 17th to the 19th centuries (i.e., before cars) they are all single lane. Like this one, they usually have a sign or lights indicating which direction has the right of way, but I saw no one slow down to see if anyone was oncoming.

The high point of the day was reaching my second coffee shop on the canal that was open. This was exactly at 1 pm at the 19 km point of my day. Sadly, I did not have much of an appetite, so only ordered a cafe-o-lait and a bowl of frites (at €10 - $16 it was probably all i could afford).

I rolled into my hotel about 2:45 and once they saw my cart they thoughtfully moved me to an annex (a block away) as all the rooms in the hotel were on the 2nd floor with only a very narrow staircase leading up from the lobby. I showered and headed off the do laundry as i was running out of clothes that were not offensive. Then supper and a quiet evening, as tomorrow i visit the amazing walled city of the Cathars ( Katharos - Greek for “the pure ones”) and the Templars.

For those of your bored or foolish enough to read this, some nights I don’t postal until the next owing to poor wifi connections. Oh yes, and a photo of the short bus in Carcassonne (again Lu-Anne can explain).

Sept 25: Bram - Escape to the Chateau 16.4 km + 5.7 km round trip to Bram for dinner - 34,100 Steps

I forgot to mention yesterday that I reached the highest point on the canal, the Seuil (threshold) de Naurouze. Here, like the great divide, a single water source flows in two directions with some flowing to the Atlantic and some to the Mediterranean. This water source is what allows the canal to exist and until I reached it, each lock I passed was a step up and after that, each lock was a step down.

While waiting for my baggage at Toulouse Airport, I struck up a conversation with a young, hip looking, black American musician coming to Toulouse to study classical violin, and a local couple living in Berlin and coming home to visit her mom. The couple insisted that if I went to Castelnaudry, I must have Cassoulet or my whole trip would be wasted. Here I am, so I tried it. I admit to being sceptical of meat and bean stew, but the duck and sausage were falling off the bone tender and the beans were luscious and soft. I finished with their version of a lemon meringue pie accompanied by Sicilian lemon sorbet and a pistachio cracker. Added to that was a couple of glasses of an excellent Bordeaux at €7 a glass. My definition of heaven.

I left very late today (just before 12) because it was only 16 km and check-in wasn’t until 4:30. I was able to grab a lovely ham and cheese on an artisan poppyseed baguette and a couple of pan au raisin at the local Boulangerie so lunch was fixed-up even though there are rarely services on the canal. As I set out, I realized that I am clearly late in the shoulder season. Castelnaudry has the largest port/basin on the canal and it was virtually abandoned other than a few rental boats for the last of the tourists. Soon after setting out, I ran into a boatload of Aussies from Perth of all places (Luanne will tell you why that’s funny). I helped them with a couple of locks before they moored up and set out on foot to nearby Villepinte. They figured that in any place with pint right in the name, they should be able to get a beer. Typical Aussies.

Not a very eventful day. The weather turned sunny but there was very little shade as I have hit part of the canal where many sections have been stripped of dead trees and recently been replanted. In 20 years or so it will be lovely, right now it is rather barren. It is so sad to watch the work crews cutting down the skeletons and then cutting up and burning the trunks and the roots, but it is unavoidable. I remember it 20 years ago, when the plane trees looked like endless lines of majestic toy soldiers guarding over the peaceful waterway.

I rolled into Chateau de la Prade about 4:39 and it is as lovely as I imagined. Fortunately, it has its own gate onto the canal path, only the second I have seen in 4 days. Otherwise, I would have added 4 km to my day detouring by road. My host is a lovely woman whose English is only slightly better than my French, but that struggling to connect with others in their own country and language is to me one of the joys of travel. The main house is huge and she is expecting a dozen bicycle riders this evening. She lives in one of the outbuildings and and older couple that I took to be here parents are also on the estate.

I don’t know if any of you remember how thrilled Kim and I were near Bordeaux when we discovered an automat dispensing fresh baguettes next to a Boulangerie that was closed for afternoon break. This memory came back to me yesterday when I happened upon this pizza machine and accompanying drinks machine (beer, wine and soft drinks) next to a pizza parlour similarly closed for break. Isn’t modern technology wonderful?

Anyway, off to dinner and tomorrow a 25 km hike to Carcasonne, the historical highlight of the trip and a rest/laundry day.

Sept 24: Castelnaudry - Fear in the Forrest - 23.9 km. steps (29,950 on the trail)

After my ridiculously large walking breakfast, I hit the road a bit after 8 into another dreary day. While not as pleasant as sunshine, these are great walking days. It was 8C when I left the the hotel, reached a high of 14C and it seemed on the verge of a downpour all day. Thankfully, I was not nearly as stiff and sore this morning as I was yesterday.

As I proceed past several locks, I noticed that each keepers house had a sign identifying the distance to locks on either either side. This came in handy as I watched an older couple row back and forth 4X in a double skull at high speed for a total of 10 km. It was really quite beautiful and impressive. I also saw a half a dozen power boats go by today, including one that was passing through a lock, giving me a chance for a photo. As I indicated before, the ropes are belayed off of, but never tied to, the bollards. Most of the rest of the day was quiet and I only encountered a couple of runners or riders each hour. The high point was finding a bar that was open, where I could get a great cafe au lait (cappuccino) for 1.5€ ($2.10).

Part way through the day the Plane trees lining the bank were replaced by Oaks. Originally, the banks were planted with willows but this changed repeatedly over the centuries (elm, ash, poplar) including a failed attempt to cultivate mulberry trees in hopes of creating a French silk industry. In the 1830’s thousands of fast growing plane trees were planted as a source of firewood and to protect the barges from wind. They now constitute about a quarter of the 200,000 trees growing along the canal. While they normally live for hundreds of years, they have almost all been struck by canker stain fungus that was imported in sycamore ammunition boxes from the US during WWII. Now, i pass long stretches where trees are being cut down, the roots torn up, the banks re-stabilized and fungus resistant sycamores are being replanted. Later in the day, one of these projects required me to cross the canal and detour several kilometres through a farmers field and a woodland.

Probably, the most interesting part of the day was when I came around a corner to be confronted by one of the Ragondin I discussed yesterday. About, 3/4 the size of a river otter, he reared up on his hind legs and we locked eyes for a moment. I will admit with his size, rat like appearance and orange incisors, I was a bit intimidated. For a few seconds, it was touch and go as to which of us might be the first to bolt into the forest in terror. Luckily, he blinked and I was saved the humiliation. Sadly, I did not have the presence of mind to take a picture.

I rolled into Castelnaudry (yes Grant, original home of the Cathar heresy) about 2:30 and was welcomed by the hotel I had booked that morning. I had cancelled the AirBNB I originally reserved because I received a note that I could not check in until 5pm. The prospect of waiting around in that small town for 2-3 hours with my trailer did not seem like fun and the new hotel is so close to the canal that my room directly overlooks it.

After dropping my luggage I headed out to explore this town of about 12,000. There was not lot to see other than a couple of large churches dedicated to St. John the Baptist and St. Michael. While the local tourist website indicated they would be open this afternoon, both were locked up tight, as was the city museum. It was so quiet that it seemed everyone had left town, despite claims on the tourist centre website that this is the first day of a four day cinema festival (TIFF need not worry). The only lively thing I encountered where several skinny and skittish (apparently feral) cats.

Tonight I intend to sample the local speciality, Cassoulet. While it is found throughout the south of France, it is said to have originated in Castelnaudry during the Hundred Years’ War. It is a rich stew of white beans, garlic, pork, sausage, mutton and duck, traditionally baked in an earthenware pot. Who can resist such a combination of French food and ridiculously obscure history? Certainly not geeky me.

I have included # of steps in my blog this time as it is something people with fitness watches can relate to. The count is elevated today because of uneven ground on the detour which shortens the stride.

Tomorrow, on to Bram. My guidebooks say it is only 15 km but it hasn’t been right yet..

Sept 23: Villefranche de Lauragais: Oh My Achin’ Bones - 20.8 km 35,400 steps (26,400 on the trail)

First, dinner last night. Only one restaurant in Montgiscard is open Mondays. As they don’t open ‘till 7:30, dinner required walking a kilometre down the edge of a busy highway with no shoulder at dusk. Foolishly, it also required staggering back along that same highway an hour and a half later in the pitch dark after chardonnay and Armagnac. But the food was worth it. My main course was medallions of salmon with aioli and rice and grilled vegetables. The salmon was barely seared on the outside and almost translucent in the centre and the aioli was creamy and rich. The grilled cherry tomatoes were so sweet it was like they were injected with sugar. I ordered dessert somewhat blindly, so my best guess is that was a potato sized, soft meringue drenched in a caramel flavoured crème anglais. The XO Armagnac was excellent. Yes, it was as good as it sounds and yes it was more expensive than I had planned.

Back to walking. Do you remember how pleased I was yesterday at how quickly and painlessly I walked 22 km? I was only a little stiff this morning when I got up to make myself breakfast in my little kitchette. On the road, things started off fine, but by the time I rolled into my hotel around 1:30 every muscle in my body hurt, even some I did not know I had.😱. As I lie in bed writing this, I am seriously considering whether I can rent a car for the rest of the trip but I suspect this is not a rational choice.

Despite the pain I had a lovely peaceful walk, only occasionally interrupted by long distance bikers and hikers or locals with their dogs. Every few kilometres I would reach another picturesque lock and shortly after noon one even had a restaurant, but it was sadly closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. There were also several aqueducts where the canal passed over a stream or River. Lots of bird life plays along the canal and there are more than 20 species of fish as attested by the fishermen and herons I regularly encountered.

The one big surprise of the day was the rats. One had crossed my path in a garden in Toulouse, only the second live rat I had seen in 20-30 trips to Europe (the other was in the London Tube). But this morning, swimming in the canal were two beats that, at a distance, appeared to be huge rats on steroids. These ROUS (Princess Bride: Rodents Of Unusual Size) swam like otters and had bright orange teeth. I later discovered (thank you google) that they were actually ragondin (nutria). They were introduced to France from South America in the 1880s for fur farming. Many members of this invasive species escaped or were turned loose when the market slumped. Today they are ubiquitous throughout France and attempts to eradicate them have been spectacular failures. They are very destructive on the canal as they burrow into and collapse the banks. This should all sound very familiar to Albertans from our experiments with wild boar farming as agricultural diversification in the 1980s.

On arrival at my hotel I was just in time to catch lunch at the hotel restaurant. This is fortunate because I could not have walked another step and, in small town rural France, all the restaurants still close from 2:30 to 7:30. I was tired and made the mistake of ordering something that looked familiar on the menu, a Black Angus hamburger. What arrived a few minutes later was at least 1/2 pound of prime, medium rare ground beef on its own small loaf of bread. It was accompanied by a huge salad and a family sized serving of beautiful crispy fries. All in all, it was enough to feed a family of four in most third world counties. I had to leave behind about 1/4 of the burger and most of the fries despite the fact I was ravenous from my walk. As a child in post WWII, my mother would have lectured me about children starving in Europe, but obviously not the case now.

Much of the afternoon was spent writing the blog and feeling sorry for myself in my room. I did venture out for about an hour to explore the small town and seek out dinner options. It is a lovely little town of about 5,000 and from what I could see it is thriving. There were few boarded up shops and a new little strip mall at one end of town. As I strolled down Rue de la Republic, I was accompanied by lovely walking music from speakers attached to the buildings every 50 feet or so. Not a radio station, it played a variety of music from rap to Arabic to old French classics like La Vie En Rose. It was actually quite lovely. I stopped by the church (Notre-Dame de l'Assompti) which was well maintained and was built in 1253 from the brick common to the area. Toulouse is called la ville rose because of this “pink” brick (I see orange?). Sadly, I will miss the special Banksy exhibition scheduled in the town hall starting Oct 4.

Tomorrow, on to Castelnaudry. According to my guidebooks it is another 25 km walk, but they were certainly not accurate today.

Sept 22: Montgiscard - Blessedly Boring - 22 km - 36,500 Steps

As you may have guessed, I have approached this walk with a bit of nervousness (perhaps terror?). The average daily mileage is 22 km, roughly the same as the last walk Kim and I took three years ago (Lucca to Rome) but less than most of our previous walks (~25-30km a day). Although I have triumphed over a very hilly Tuscany and persevered through torn knee ligaments in Portugal, I am older now and I am hauling a trailer (with luggage 45-50 lbs). As well, the first three days of this walk are the longest (25 km each) and it always takes a few days to condition yourself to hitting the trail day after day.

To give myself a bit of an edge today, I backtracked up the canal about 3 km yesterday to the central basin, from which three canals exit in different directions:

First was the Canal du Midi, which was finished in 1671 and stretches 250 km to the Mediterranean. Water is supplied from a reservoir at a central watershed point that was created by what was the largest dam in the world. Thus, I will be stepping up about 2,950 m and down about 3,100 m on my journey to the sea.

Last was the Canal du Garonne, which was completed in 1856 and stretches 193 km from the basin to Bordeaux by running parallel to the Garonne River, completing the link from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic. It has 53 locks with a combined drop of 128m.

In between these two, The Canal du Brienne was completed in 1776 and is only 1.5 km long with 2 locks. It exists solely to provide water from the Garonne River to supply the Canal du Garonne.

As a result of yesterday’s side trip, I only had 22 km ahead of me this morning when I hit the road in the dark at 7:15. I wanted to reach 15 km a bit before lunch with hopes that there might be food by the canal side. This pace of about 3.5 km/hr including breaks, was about the same as Kim and I had done with day packs on very tough sections of previous walks. I need not have worried. Even with breaks, I rolled into my final destination a little after 12. Unfortunately, my check-in wasn’t until 15:00. Fortunately there was a roadside diner right next door where I killed a couple of hours with a salade de chèvre chaud and a surprising large glass of white wine that took forever to drink and was only 7€.

Along the way was one of the most pleasant long distance walks I have experienced, with its wide walking trails shaded continuously by huge Plane Trees. Once I was out of Toulouse it was pieceful and comfortable with temps starting out about 10C and peaking at about 20C. It was a very busy route for dog walkers and hundreds of commuters on bicycles. This petered out about 15 km from the city centre and most of the people I saw after that were long distance cyclists with large panniers heading my direction and a few determined walkers toting large backpacks heading toward me. There were even a few cycling tours, easily identifiable by their identical helmets, small panniers and identical electric bikes.

Part way along I passed my first locks. These are no longer opened and closed by a lock keeper with a windlass but have been automated. It is worth noting the ovoid shape of the locks is to allow two boats to pass with each cycle, despite the gate and length being too small to accommodate more than one. The first boat enters and slides over to one side and moors. The second boat then follows and slides along the other side beside rhe first. Upon exiting they simply reverse the process. I will try to get a picture of this later.

Also interesting is why tourists always prefer to travel down a canal rather than up it. Going down you enter a lock at the top and simply have to step off to moor. At the bottom you must drop off one crew member some distance back so he can run to dockside and catch the rope thrown from the boat 8 or 10 feet below. It is good to remember not to actually tie off the mooring ropes. If you are at the top and the water drains (very quickly), your vessel will be left hanging on the canal wall by its ropes.

I did see many retired cargo boats along the canal, all of which appeared to be at permanent moorings. All that I saw were converted to restaurants, nightclubs, Air BNBs or homes. I only saw one smaller boat actively moving on the canal but expect I will see more on lower sections.

Montgiscard, where I will spend the night (in the “Tropical Room” of a B&B) is a sleepy little town of a couple of thousand people with a church, a city hall and few businesses along the highway. The only two restaurants actually in the town are closed Mon to Wed but at least I did not see a lot of abandoned building and storefront as I have in previous trip to other small French towns.

The reason for no food porn in today’s blog is that I made the classic food blunder in a tourist town. I ate in a restaurant on the main square where the ambiance, people watching and food prices are high and the food quality is low.

Sept 21: I Knew It

I expected to pay for my good fortune at Heathrow, just not quite so soon. We boarded the aircraft on time and about 10 minutes later we were told there would be a 40 minute delay for final engineering checks. No big deal, right? Another 10 minutes and the Captain informed us in a flood of technical language that the plane was broken and unrepairable. The good news……we would only need to transfer about 75 feet to the plane we could see out the right hand windows. However, at an airport you cannot simply walk the 75 feet. Instead, you have to wait for buses to be called from the terminal, deplane, drive roughly 1/2 a mile around airport infrastructure and wait 15 minutes in the bus while they transferred luggage, loaded catering and fuelled the new plane. Back on board and we pushed back only about an hour and a half late and, as befits business class, I was handed a glass of champagne. I must say British Airways was fairly efficient under the circumstances and I arrived at my hotel about 2 am after a $60 cab ride that felt like it was driven by Lando Norris.

This morning I was up early (still not quite on Eurotime) and went off through a dreary, rainy morning to explore Toulouse. I ate a typical walking trip breakfast of 2 toasts, 2 pieces (each) of Brie and Emmental, two slices of ham, granola with yogurt, two small croissant, one pan au chocolate, orange juice, 3 cafe au lait and 3ish scrambled eggs. I never lose weight on any of our walks, although my shape changes a bit. (Oops, a momentary detour: Inquiring minds want to know. How is it that scrambled eggs in Canadian breakfast buffets are lumpy and tasteless, with a texture resembling rubber bands, while in France they are always savoury, cloud-like little pillows of soft richness that melt in your mouth? If I am ever a condemned man, I want those eggs as my last meal.)

Anyway, back to sightseeing. Today, I was Baudelaire’s Flaneur, who wanders purposefully but without a particular plan. I only checked a map occasionally to insure that I was not missing something fabulous just a block off my path. Based on travel with Lu-Anne I now limit myself to no more than one museum a day. Otherwise, looking at hundreds of paintings and artifacts at one time usually leads to a mental state that resembles confused boredom at best and dementia at worst. I would much rather visit old castles, palaces and churches where the art/artifacts are fewer and they are in an historically appropriate setting.

By the way, Tumblr crops things to fit a template. If you want to see the whole picture, just tap on it.

My first stop was the city’s Tourist Information Centre in the Donjon (armoury/fortified tower) built in 1525 but I avoided entering to maintain my plan to be unplanned. Just behind it was Le Capitole, the centre of civic government since the 1500s. I entered with a French tour and discovered that my language skills did not allow me to decode either of the two mandatory 30 minute pre-tour lectures. The only saving grace was a room where civic wedding ceremonies took place after the revolution. Around 1900, the walls were decorated with a series of beautiful pointillist paintings extolling the virtues of family life.

Next I visited my one museum for the day, Musee St Raymond. A leisurely visit only took about 1/2 an hour but the collection of sculpture from a second century Roman Villa was one of the best I have seen. Even better, it was the annual history festival in the square outside (think cosplay but no super heroes) and it was great fun to watch Greek hoplites, Roman gladiators and Napoleonic infantry bash away at one another.

Lastly, I allowed myself to go to Church on Sunday (four actually) To see much, I had to be lucky enough to arrive between masses, as my purposeful wandering did not allow return visits. First was the Basilica of St Sernin, the largest Romanesque Church surviving in Europe (round arches, thick walls and little stained glass). The other three: Toulouse Cathedral, the Jacobean Convent (monks not nuns) and Notre Dame du Taur were Gothic (pointed windows, flying buttresses and lots of light through stained glass) and were all being renovated/restored. I won’t bore you with a lot of history and will let the pictures speak for themselves.

Tomorrow I start to walk.

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