S has decided that we must ’Discover the Sites of the Cathar Country’. (The left hand column has a pink section called ‘Pays Cathars’ click on the link that says 40 chateaux and then on the names of each chateau. From there click on the links labeled ‘banque d’images…) The Cathars were a religious group that splintered off of the Catholics back in the late 1100’s (?). This is a brief and inaccurate account of events but hopefully S will do a Blog on the Cathars and all will be clear on that point. ANYWAY, there are almost 20 of these fortified sites in the southeast corner of this country. These Chateaus as they are called are truly the remains of fortified castles some of which were built as early as the first century BC. Let’s be clear on where these sites are shall we.
If you were building a fortified and defendable castle you would not, of course, build it in the middle of say a picturesque little valley, oh no, especially if you live in the foothills of the Pyrenees. You would use these mountains to your advantage and build your home at the tippy top of one of them so you could see your enemies approaching for miles. And your enemies would have one hell of a time climbing up to kill you. Of course, inevitably they’d wait you out or more precisely starve you out, but never mind, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
S picked out three of these sites for us to visit on Sunday based on pictures in a brochure. He picked the three most remote castles of the bunch. I teased him saying that in my novel about France I would one day write, “Yes, I spent two years in France where my husband dragged me out every weekend from historic pile of rubble to historic pile of rubble”. He was not amused.
Sunday dawned windy and with the promise of rain in the air. (And that would be different from any other day how…) We got on the road and drove, it seemed, right toward the storm clouds. We arrived at the first chateau… wait this makes it sound like we just drove on over. What we actually did is drive down some amazing roads cut literally out of the side of the mountains. In some places the mountain hung ominously over the road, in others the road just tunneled right through solid rock.
The Chateau De Puilaurens sits on top of a mountain and you can see it from below. As you look up at it the outer battlements blend in with the stone of the cliffs it sits on. You drive up a 1 ½ lane road that curves in and out and switches back on itself until you’ve driven to within a half mile of the chateau. The rest is, you guessed it, straight up and on foot. S scampered ahead and took pictures and video footage of my struggle up the side of this mountain. I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE!! And if I could have caught S and his camera, he would have. Once you trek through the forested path you finally reach the front steps of the castle. The steps, such as they are, (remember, made of stone over 1000 years ago or more; so calling them steps is really a bit generous.) switch back and forth, steadily climbing for another 5 minutes, (more like 10 in my case) and there you are, the front arch.
About the only thing still standing of this castle are the outer battlement walls. A few places to explore like some turrets and some doorways leading out of the walls to wind whipping, sheer drops and breathtaking (because of the wind in your face) views of the whole countryside.
(Here I would like to insert a brief note about the litigious society we live in. Well, that you live in, since I don’t live there for now. In the US, this site would have been off limits or your access would be severely limited. Whole areas roped off, signage everywhere DANGER, FALLING ROCK, DO NOT ENTER…etc. Hell, you would probably have to sign a waver exonerating the owners of all responsibility if you should fall and be maimed or killed! American society is big on placing blame, there seems to be no personal responsibility. The French have a different view on anything from choosing to drink hot coffee while driving to visiting these chateaus. You have a brain, you know the danger, if you choose to engage in these behaviors and you are, god forbid, injured, maimed or killed, it’s your own damn fault. You assume personal responsibility. A phrase that Americans should reacquaint themselves with.)
We did see one sign that said ‘DANGER’ but its placement was ambiguous. Did it mean ‘Danger don’t fall in that big hole there next to you’ or ‘Danger this arch your standing under is really old and could fall on you if you sneeze’, not really sure, but you can’t say you weren’t warned.
S took lots of photos, it was at this point however that I discovered the batteries in my camera were dead and I only had two spares. I needed four. You’d think I of all people would be better prepared. I would live to regret this unpreparedness when in the final and best stage of our journey S filled his media card and we couldn’t take anymore pictures. S’s camera is a new Nikon digital that uses a new technology for file storage. So where I had a Smart Media and Compact Flash card, he couldn’t use them in his camera and since his camera has an internal rechargeable battery, I couldn’t use his power source in mine. Really poor planning!
The climb down in some ways was more difficult than the climb up. This was compounded by the fact that the wind was really blowing and it had started to lightly drizzle. By the time we finally reached the car my legs felt like shaky Jell-O. It was not at all cool.
We drove down the mountain with me alternating between goggling at the sheer drops (no guard rails [personal responsibility]) and covering my eyes with my hands. I’d look down and say ‘Holy Cow (and other superlatives), look at that drop! No Don’t! You drive, I’ll look.”
On to the next! We next visited the chateau Queribus. I decided that I would sit this one out. I know, I know, not very adventurous, but my knee (Arthur-itis) was really screaming. So I sat in the car in the parking lot and read and S went up. From the looks of it the ascent to this one was not nearly as steep as the first one and I probably could have made it.
While I waited in the car a tour bus arrived. Yes a bus actually drove up the little mountain road. I don’t know what would happen if you met it on your way down the mountain, where the hell would you go? Reverse it back up to the parking lot? Out of the bus came about 40 Senior Citizens. This really pissed me off, because if these 40 people started to climb up to the castle I was going to have to go. They, however and thank God, did not. They took some photos and bought postcards and loaded back up on the bus. By the time they were ready to take off S was back and we headed down the mountain ahead of the bus.
This castle (as related by S) is currently being renovation. S had some difficulty taking photos and movies that didn’t have scaffolding or tools in it. It had probably less to see than the previous castle but a basic floor plan was evident and it looks like it may be quite something to see once the renovations are complete.
By the time we reached the chateau Peyrepertuse it was difficult to see it because the mountain top it sits on was mostly shrouded by clouds. By the time we reached its parking lot it was sprinkling and had gotten very foggy. I opted out of this climb too because I could see myself slipping on stone steps in the rain and not stopping till I reached the valley below. S put on his anorak and went for it.
This castle was the most complete of the 3 we visited. (Complete being relative) It also had the toughest climb and was the biggest. We will re-visit this one on a sunnier day and I’ll go up. The fog, however, made for some spectacular photos. S took some movies too. The pictures though are fabulous. The fog made everything look just a bit eerie and ghostly. S has a real eye for photography and he has taken some wonderful shots of architectural details as well as vistas. I can’t wait to share them with you all.
When S got back in the car we consulted our map and decided that since home was northwest, we would not go south back to the highway. We decided to take the mountain road we were on all the way north and catch the highway home up there. This was the best decision and led to the best part of our day.
We descended the mountain and followed this narrow winding road through valleys and around hills. Through small villages where the road meandered between buildings and out the other side. As we drove the wind began to clear up the fog and clouds and the sun came out. This is difficult to write without sounding completely sappy, but it was very emotional for me for some reason. Not that I’m EVER emotional. So, if you are offended by sappy, stop reading now.
As the sun came out, the sky behind the clouds was an incredible blue. The clouds were flying by, being blown away by the wind giving us peek-a-boo views of the white mountain cliffs with their toes hidden in forested hillsides and high meadows of a green so fresh it actually brought tears to my eyes to see it. Then I’d look across a valley and see the red terracotta roof tops of a village clinging to the side of a mountain. Near the villages I could see a few farmsteads where the grape vines were starting to turn a deep fall red. As we drove through these hills every turn around a bend brought another stunning view that would make me gasp with its beauty. Villages looked exactly as they might have a hundred or a thousand years ago in pristine landscapes that haven’t changed in all those years. Sometimes we’d come around a bend in the road to see a cloud had settled into the valley below and it felt like we were driving on a floating island. We drove through a pine forest whose trunks started so far below us we couldn’t see there bases and whose green tops were so far above we were driving in cool darkness. I close my eyes and can still see the vivid, intense, rain washed colors of the green trees and meadows, the polished copper sheen of the harvested fields being lit by slanting rays of sun and a sky of such a saturated blue that it looked as if it were a painting. If you come I’ll take you there, though I’m afraid that it will never look exactly that way for me again. I think we were lucky and that we stumbled on this at the exact right moment in time. One of those events that you could try to repeat your whole life and never succeed. I wondered earlier in the day how anyone could want to live someplace so remote, but those views would make it worthwhile. Once you’d seen it like that you might never want to leave again.
