Shanghai

It's been a big day however, as we sit in the equivalent to the Qantas Club in Shanghai's Pudong Airport waiting for our Sydney flight, there is time to reflect upon the last two days.

Wed 19 Jul

We are feeling very practised at packing up and leaving the Victory Services Club to travel to Heathrow. The gods are with us as we are allocated two seats with an empty between us and our luggage goes through without any apparent concern for the weight. A small problem with the BA Club as I had left my Qantas Club card in our stowed luggage. However, they let us in and we had a comfortable couple of hours for refreshments and time for some browsing through the duty free shops. Our BA 169 is on time and scheduled for a 1400 hrs departure with an anticipated 12 hours in the air

Thu 20 Jul

We arrive under an overcast sky at 0800 local time. Immigration procedures are slow and we make it even more so by asking that, if we can get a later flight out of Shanghai, say Saturday, would they extend our visa? No problems, except that Qantas did not have any spare seats available on later flights...nice try!

We did though have the day free as our flight tonight is at 2000hrs and, provided we were back in the airport by 1700 hrs to retrieve our stored luggage, we could visit downtown Shanghai some 30 kms away. We were advised that the best way to town was by train. I should say at this stage that Pudong Airport is quite large and modern with around 35 gates. Everything is efficient even to the customs and immigration people marching to their posts in military-like groups. There are attractively uniformed hostesses everywhere and most seem to speak remarkably good English. Shanghai is to run the World Expo in 2010 and they appear well prepared.

We were not prepared for what turned out to be a most remarkable train journey to town. The Shanghai Maglev Train was opened to the public in 2003. The track is an elevated, double-track guideway from the airport to Long Yang Rd subway station near the Lujiazui Financial District. The 30 kms is covered in 8 minutes with the train reaching 431 kph...that's right, 431 km/h! A sensational ride to say the least. The train is tastefully decorated in a light green colour which matches the uniforms of the hovering hostesses. The speed is indicated on a LCD screen at the front and end of each carriage. The station is short of the actual downtown Shanghai and the options are either the Subway or a cab. We punted on a cab as it appeared beyond us to fathom the Subway which was very modern but not at all English friendly. This proved a good choice as we saw more and got a feel for this city which has a population equivalent to Australia's. The traffic is overwhelming and seems to be operating continually at the intense rate. There are thousands of apartment blocks,some old, some new, but all with washing hanging from them and all with the ubiquitous air-conditioners humming away in the extremely humid environment.

We got out of the cab at the western end of Nan Jing St with a view to walking east along it to The Bund. The weather is extremely hot and humid and in no time we are both dripping in perspiration. The pedestrian traffic is daunting and it seems a prerequisite for a driving licence is advanced horn blowing. The mix of noise, traffic and people is a new experience. Building appears to be progressing in leaps and bounds as ultra modern buildings replace the old. Major hotel groups are well represented as are well known retail and financial brands. We pass by The People's Square and note the government buildings, parks, monuments and exhibition centres within it. We come to Xizang Rd and from this point on Nan Jing St becomes a pedestrian street catering for shopping and extends for about a kilometre to the riverside or Bund.

I think we probably expected the Chinese to be fairly conservative in their behaviour and dress and were surprised to find quite the opposite. For the most part dress is very western and with many of the girls in mini-skirts or short shorts. The biggest bugbear was touts continually hassling any westerners to buy cheap watches, postcards, jewellery or to visit particular shops and restaurants. Salespeople in the shops are particularly aggressive.

We see the Sofitel Hyland Hotel and figure that we had paid for three days and all things being equal we should be able to access a room even for a few hours as this would have been day three. To our astonishment, the reception we received could only be described as 'regal'. We were ushered to a room adjacent to the Resident Manager's office and provided with towels and cool drinks...we were wringing wet and having not changed in 24 hours looked a couple of wrecks. Much concern was offered in respect of our visa difficulties and they immediately presumed our three days would start now. The Resident Manager, Anthony Myers, arrived and his welcome was as enthusiastic as that of his Chinese staff. Anthony hails from Adelaide and has been with the Accor Group for 12 years. Previous to this appointment he had been in central China and we suspect he is on the cusp of getting his own hotel. He took us through the hotel and up to the observation level to explain the layout of Shanghai. We were then ushered to a beautiful room on the 22nd floor and offered any service the hotel could oblige with. We decided to continue our walk to The Bund, buy some new smalls and a shirt and blouse and then retire back to the room.

The Nan Jing pedestrian road is the most commercially prosperous road in China. Along the road stands both old and new shopping malls which are considered to be one of the world's busiest commercial centres. The Bund stretches for 4 kms along the west bank of the huang Pu River. There are around 52 significant buildings of sundry architectural styles along the Bund which is often described as 'an architectural exposition of the world'. Across the River is the Lujiazui Financial and Trade Zone on an area of 28 sq/kms. The outstanding feature is the Oriental Pearl TV Tower standing some 468 metres high. Anthony told us that 10 years ago the Tower was the only structure in that area.

We could be tempted to return for the Expo in 2010 and to include Beijing (1088 kms north of Shanghai) and also Guandong where the terracotta soldiers were found. Time will tell.

At 1600 hrs Anthony took us to the nearby Subway and organised, and bought, our tickets back to the Long Yang Rd station to catch the Maglev train to the airport. The Subway train was initially crowded on our 6 station journey however, it was efficient, timely, clean and technologically ahead of our European experiences on the Metro and the Tube. Television screens are used extensively to provide information and to entertain. Screens are on the stations; on the side of the carriages and inside each carriage.


Sofitel and Anthony's service was first class albeit expensive from our point of view as our accommodation was prepaid and non-refundable.In our view he took the extra step and we will happily support Accor in general and Sofitel in particular in the future.

We have a 9 hour flight ahead of us tonight on QF 130 and we expect to arrive in Sydney at 0800 hrs.

GO...NO GO...GO!

Sun 16 Jul

What a disaster!

We are up early to pack and have breakfast before being picked up at 0945 hrs for our trip to Heathrow. Initially, all is well as our bags seem to have passed the weight test and our boarding passes are being printed and then the British Airways lady asks about our visa into China. When we bought our tickets, Qantas categorically stated that a visa was not necessary for us as the stay in Shanghai was a short one. Based on our Hong Kong experience this seemed reasonable. Not so, says BA, who are liable for substantial fines and the costs of return fares to London if they allow an 'illegal' entry into the country. We could understand their caution.

After much research and consultation, BA advises that a stay of 48 hours does not require a visa for Australians. Our stay is for three nights and consequently we are required to cancel today's flight and leave tomorrow (Monday) to arrive in Shanghai on Tuesday and to depart for Sydney by Qantas on Thursday. BA were very good and found us seats on Monday's flight. We rang the hotel in Shanghai then sought overnight accommodation at Heathrow. The Jurys Inn hotel near Terminal 4 had a reasonably inexpensive room and we spent the afternoon and evening there.

Mon 17 Jul

Packed up again, we made our way to Heathrow to find that BA had developed 'cold-feet' on the issue. It appears our stay in Shanghai would necessarily be 56 hours rather than 48 and they were not prepared to take the chance over the 8 hour difference.

It proved literally impossible for us, or anyone at BA, to speak to the Chinese Embassy in London. Consequently, we had no option but to accept the BA decision not to let us board and to wait for the next flight to Shanghai on Wednesday. This flight would arrive on Thursday morning and we would depart for Sydney that evening to arrive Friday morning.

We were both feeling seriously p...ed at this stage as our original three day stay was gone as was the unrefundable $1500 AUD accommodation and tour package we had taken! Further, it was proving very difficult to find two night's accommodation in London as the Fairburn Airshow was the hottest ticket in town and all hotels were full. After some hasty re-organization, the Victory Services Club came to the rescue with their last room available: a very, very modest twin with shared facilities. Who were we to argue? We caught the Heathrow Express train back to London and settled into the Club determined to make the best of our enforced, extended stay.

The weather is extremely hot and our non-airconditioned room is stifling so, in the late afternoon, we walked down the shady side of Oxford St to Oxford Circus, then left into Regent St and left again into Wigmore St which eventually becomes Seymour St and the Club.

Oxford St is recognized as a shopping 'mecca' and the number of people on the street bears this out. We are simply not used to these sort of crowds in Australia except perhaps on Family Day at the Ekka. We see all the famous names such as Selfridges, Debenhams and so on and admire the building styles of the era, but otherwise, find little to compensate for the crowds, the traffic, and the noise. The journey back towards the Club is far more peaceful and we notice familiar names such as the BBC Broadcasting House, Harley St, Wimpole St, and the general area frequented by Sherlock Holmes in Conan Doyle's novels.

Of interest was a fenced private park in Portman Square along Wigmore St where it becomes Seymour St. The park has attractive gardens, a tennis court, children's playground and picnic facilities. The park is only accessible to keyholders who live in the immediate area or to those prepared to pay an annual fee. We had seen similar parks in Dublin last year however, those Georgian surrounded areas are now open to all.

This evening, after our third visit to Cafe Uno (it really is that good) we go to the nearby Odeon Theatre and enjoy the 'Da Vinci Code' movie. Interestingly, it is in this location that Tyburn Gallows stood where public executions took place until 1783. Not much sleep tonight as the room is hot and airless.

Tue 18 Jul

The plan today is to walk the Princess Diana Memorial Walk around Hyde Park. We start at Speaker's Corner which is adjacent to the Marble Arch and continue down the Park Lane boundary of the Park until we reach Wellington's Gates. The grass is noticeably brown and the plants in all the gardens are suffering from an acute shortage of water. When you think of it, since leaving home, and even there, we have seen the affects of changing weather patterns and forced changes in environmental behaviour. For our children's and grand-children's sakes it seems to us that we can no longer afford simple band-aiding by restricting water use and so on...the big picture needs to be addressed now and it will need people-power to goad the politicians away from political cynicism into positive long term action. The continuation of exporting coal to China for our short term economic benefit and seemingly without regard to the inevitable long term pollution is to my mind both hypocritical and self-destructive.

Continuing our walk towards Kensington Palace we come to a restaurant set upon the banks of the Serpentine which is a relatively large expanse of water used for boating and recreation in the Park. We have lunch on the outside verandah and watch the birds and the world go by. There is definitely truth in the observation that as soon as temperatures reach and exceed 24 C in London, people take their clothes off and behave out of character. We saw it all as the temperature reached 35 C.

The path around the Serpentine leads to the upper reaches known as the Long Water and all the way along there are numerous deck-chairs painted in colourful designs or printed with quotes. The water looked unattractive for human use but the many waterbirds were right at home.

Adjacent to the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain is the Lido Cafe which has a swimming reserve alongside in the Serpentine. There were plenty of swimmers in what we though was pretty turgid water. Like hundreds of others, Donna cooled her feet in the cold water of the fountain which forms a circular stream bubbling over several different surfaces and produces a pleasant effect. Over the Serpentine Bridge, we walk on and find ourselves at 'The Fountains' built in Italian fashion at the Marlborough Gate entrance to the Park. Along Bayswater Rd back to Marble Arch, we visit the church attached to the Tyburn Nun's Convent. This Benedictine group is dedicated to the memory of the 115 Tyburn Martyrs who would not renounce their beliefs during the Reformation. They also have a convent near Sydney.

This evening we had a light dinner and enjoyed the air-conditioning at the Odeon Theatre during a screening of Johnny Depp's latest pirate film, 'Pirates of the Caribbean-Dead Man's Chest'. Back at the Club we keep our fingers crossed that all will be well for our flight to Shanghai tomorrow.

Doing the Sights

Fri 14 Jul

Today we are part of a small group on a 'Total London' tour conducted by Premium Tours. Our guide is knowledgeable, humourous, and well-organized. Our tour of the Tower of London was special as we were admitted before the general public and had a 'Beefeater' guide exclusively allocated to our small group. All ex-servicemen, the Beefeaters are officially called Yeomen Warders and have been at the Tower since the 14th century. They all hold the rank of Warrant Officer. Combining their traditional ceremonial role with that of a tourist guide they are extremely entertaining and bring to life the Tower's history including imprisonment, torture and intrigue.

The 'Changing of the Guard' at Buckingham Palace is so much more exciting in the flesh as the colour and sound can be truly appreciated. Our guide positioned us at the 'Australia Gates' to get a close up view of the 'Old Guard' marching away with the band in full throttle. On the way down to the Palace we walked by Clarence House which is now Prince Charles's residence and saw a mini guard change there. Close by we saw the Spencer family townhouse.

A short stroll and bus ride took us to the River Thames where we boarded a river boat and heard an excellent commentary as we cruised up to the notorious 'Clink' area and to the remains of the Bishops' Castle at Winchester. A 'pub lunch' with a pint of Guinness hit the spot and gave us the opportunity to watch a little of England versus Pakistan at Lords on the local TV.

Westminster Abbey is much bigger and more fascinating than we had expected. The architecture is magnificent however, the guides tend to concentrate on the tombs and memorials rather than the physical beauty of the place. For us, the stunning eastern end of the church took the honours. At the extreme east is a beautifully coloured window celebrating the Battle of Britain and overlooking the Royal Air Force Chapel. Coming back down the space is the Tomb of Henry VII and his wife Elizabeth of York. Here is also the Chapel of the Order of the Bath with the banners of the incumbents hanging below a fantastic fan-vaulted ceiling. On the northern side we found the Tomb of Elizabeth I who is interred on top of Mary I. On the southern side is the Tomb of Mary, Queen of Scots. At the entrance to this wonderful part of the building is the Coronation Chair commissioned by Edward I in 1301 and has been used at every coronation since. The 'Stone of Scone' sits in a compartment under the seat of the chair as a not very subtle go at the Scots to indicate their subordination to the English Crown. It is not on view as it seems PM John Major, needing votes to bolster his electoral position in Scotland, had the Stone returned to Scotland on the proviso it be made available whenever a coronation is performed. Politicians...don't you just love them! Edward The Confessor has a special place in terms of the development and construction of the building which started as a Benedictine Abbey in 960. His Tomb is situated at a point behind the Coronation Chair and is raised as it was built upon a mound of soil brought from Jerusalem. The first coronation in the Abbey was of William the Conqueror in 1066.

On busy weekends, tourists queue for up to three hours to take a flight on the British Airways, 130 metres high, 'London Eye'. Our guide has us on board our capsule within 20 minutes and the 14 Pound cost is worth every penny. Donna is not good with heights but after some persuasion she boarded and enjoyed the experience. The views of London during the 30 minute ride are sensational but unfortunately for us, the weather was hot and hazy and we could not get the best of the photography.

We ate at the Club in the evening and reflected on a great day and contemplated tomorrow's trip out of London.

Sat 15 Jul

Our tour today is with Evan Evans and their distinctive red coaches are state of the art. The group is relatively small with 19 on board so we anticipate a good day's, hassle free touring.

Windsor Castle is about 30 miles out of London and there is little traffic on the road. The Castle is the oldest and largest occupied castle in the world. William the Conqueror chose the site high above the River Thames, within a day's march from the Tower of London. Its purpose was to guard the approaches to the Capital. Over the past 900 years or so the Castle has been modified and refurbished as technology improved and as circumstances demanded. The most recent major refurbishing occurred after the devastating fire in 1992 which destroyed an area of 9000 square metres or over a fifth of the Castle.

One of the most impressive elements of the Castle is St Georges Chapel whose construction was begun by Edward IV in the 15th century and completed by Henry VIII. Ten British monarchs are buried here up to George VI whose wife, Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother and daughter, Princess Margaret is buried with him. The Queen uses the Castle as a private home, where she usually spends each weekend, and as a Royal residence for formal duties. At the time of our visit we could not see the State Apartments as Princess Beatrice was to celebrate her 18th birthday in the evening. We did however, visit the Royal Print Room where we viewed drawings by Leonardo Da'Vinci and others...not a bad second prize!

As we left the Castle for Salisbury we passed by Eton School and Ascot racecourse. This is truly a beautiful part of England.

Salisbury Cathedral was, in many respects, the 'raison d'etre' for our trip to England. I became fascinated with the building and the general area after reading Edward Rutherfurd's wonderful epic history called 'Sarum'. Our first glimpse of the impressive outline of the Cathedral against the skyline was all as we imagined. It was built over a period of 38 years beginning in 1220 and is unique in being almost entirely in one architectural style, Early English Gothic. Some key facts about the Cathedral are:

. Britain's tallest spire at 123 metres/404 feet.

. Holds the finest copy of the four remaining Magna Carta documents signed by King John in 1215.

. Houses Europe's oldest working clock dated 1386.

. Britain's largest Cathedral cloisters.

Overall this is a magnificent building demonstrating the extraordinary skills in construction and masonry from the 13th century.

Only eight miles up the road we come to the most outstanding prehistoric monument in Britain...Stonehenge. 7-8000 years ago the area was mixed pine and hazel woodland before becoming downland.

The large stones in the circle are Sarsen stones brought from the Marlborough Downs 30 kms away. The smaller stones, known as Bluestones, are from the Preselic Mountains in Wales some 383 kms away!

The remains today were in use 1000's of years ago. The monument was constructed in three phases:

. 3050 BC...A circular ditch and bank (henge).

. circa 2600 BC...Wooden structure constructed at centre.

. 2500-1500 BC...Stone monument constructed, arranged and re-arranged over almost 1000 years.

This is a mysterious site to visit. The authorities have organized it all quite well with a pathway circling the stones allowing visitors to get as close as 20 metres in places. The site was extremely busy with access from a carpark through a tunnel under the main road. Plans are in place to move the road thus providing a more isolated and quieter setting.

Today's tour provided much to think about on the nearly two hour trip back to London in suprisingly heavy traffic. We decided to eat again at Cafe Uno where the pasta and an Italian red went down well.

London Bound

Thu 13 Jul

The packing was a bigger problem than we had anticipated. Books, brochures, and our Caunes marble sculpture all add considerably to the weight factor to the extent that our two main bags are seriously over the British Airways (BA) limit of 23 kilos apiece and of course way over the 20 kilo limit for Qantas. After some abandonment of miscellaneous clothing, brochures, and other bits and pieces and, re-distribution between the contents of checked luggage and 'carry-on', we settle for 27 kilos for my bag and 23 kilos for Donna's. Not great but we will take our chances. Our 'carry-on' bags feel as though they are filled with lead!

Notwithstanding a couple of scratches; a broken tail light; and a broken filler tank cover, the handback of the car to Citroen was remarkably simple as the included comprehensive insurance covered everything. We ended up with nearly 6000 kms on the clock and a total fuel expenditure of around 350 Euros. Very economical these small diesels and overall a great way to lease a car for more than 17 days in France. We had ours for a total of 82 days with a leasing cost of $3400 AUD.

The flight to Gatwick was uneventful and the Gatwick Express rail trip to London's Victoria Station was efficient and cheap. A cab had us at the Victory Services Club in Seymour St, Marble Arch in no time.

The Club (VSC) has a reciprocal arrangement with our United Service Club in Brisbane. It is an 'all ranks' club for retired and serving members of the British Armed Forces and is celebrating its centenary this year. Some of its 220 rooms are quite modest with a bed, washbasin, chair, and wardrobe and shared ablution facilities. In the newer Memorial Wing there are rooms with full en-suite, television, and so on. The restaurant and bar facilities are of a good standard with the dining room employing a buffet system for all meals. The cost of accommodation is most attractive considering the Club's central position ranging from 31 Pounds per night for a small single room in the Old Club house and up to 112 Pounds for an en-suite family room in the Memorial Wing where we paid 98 Pounds (incl breakfast) for a double with en-suite and TV.

On a more poignant note is the number of young wounded Servicemen including amputees and paraplegics using the Club. Regrettably, these men represent the often overlooked consequences of the war against terror and we have been most fortunate in this respect in Australia.

Seymour St runs off Edgware Rd which is a fairly main thoroughfare with Oxford St at its southern end and adjacent to Hyde Park. The most striking thing is the dominance of Muslim ethnicities in the area...it is total and a little intimidating at first with the many shrouded women and the men smoking from 'hooka' pipes on the footpaths outside the restaurants. The area is locally known as 'Little Kuwait'. Secondly, one taken aback by the cars on the streets..all big and all expensive! Mercedes 500 Series and BMW 700 Series are commonplace with Jaguars, Bentleys, and Aston Martin cars well represented. How do these people afford these vehicles? A second-hand Mercedes 320 was listed at 44,000 Pounds. In Australian money this is $110,000! Jobs we saw listed ranged between 18,500 to 28,000 Pounds for secretarial and basic managerial positions. Once again, how do all these young men afford these cars or am I missing some sort of point here?

This evening we had a window seat in the wonderful Italian 'Cafe Uno' on the corner of Seymour and Edgware (seemed a bit out of place in this neighbourhood). As the frascati washed down some typically Italian fare we observed the world passing by and wondered if it really was London that we were in.

Au Revoir Caunes et La France

This will be the last blog written in France as we are off tomorrow to catch the plane from Toulouse to Gatwick in London. All going well we expect to arrive at the Victory Services Club around 1930 hrs. There are a couple of issues to report since Monday.

Mon 10 Jul

We had invited Chris and Ray , the Brit expats from the Jersey Islands, to visit Caunes with a view to eating at Hotel d'Alibert however, it was closed and Donna decided another tarted-up 'holy trinity' was in order at our place. Considering she has been running-down the pantry she did a marvelous job with Roquefort and Salers cheeses, ham, salad, and nuts. We drank a top notch 'cremant' from Limoux as well as Chateau Donjon's top red. Regrettably, our guests spent most of lunch complaining about the tourist industry, service, food,and general ordinariness of Australia! I was a bit put out as they were eating a great lunch and further, they were drinking our wine! Talk about whingeing Poms. All that aside, they are nice people and they certainly helped us language-wise. They invited us to their place but I think time is against us.

In the evening, our next door neighbours invited us in for a glass or two of wine. Bit embarrassing as mine had all been drunk at lunch! Mike and Liz are from Plympton near Plymouth and bought the house four years ago. They visit very 3 or 4 months. He is a retired tax inspector and Liz manages a nursing home. They have a real interest in Australia and seemed impressed at our understanding of things British and particularly history. Mike is quite handy and his improvements to such an old house are very good. He also dabbles in painting and has done murals to decorate cupboard doors and so on. His oils are particularly good and he also does copies of famous artist's paintings. He is especially interested in Picasso and his copies are brilliant. He has also spent considerable time sorting the wheat from the chaff in respect to Minervois wines. We drank two 'La Liveniere" beauties: a 2002 Valliere Lorgeil (Syrah/Grenache/Mouverdre), and a 2001 '2001'(Syrah/Grenache) from Trausse. Not a bad 'degustation' and a great couple of people to boot.

Tue 11 Jul

The weather is really very hot with a 'dry' heat. Apart from some local shopping we spent most of the day indoors.

We turn-up at the Grand Theatre in La Cite at 1930 hrs for the Al Jarreau concert scheduled to begin at 2130 hrs. Security was tight and I got turned back at the entrance because I had a camera in my bag. The crowd around us were quick to respond and pocketed their cameras. We diplomatically side-stepped to the adjacent entrance and were allowed through. I would have been very upset if we had not got in as camera flashes were going off right through the concert.

The theatre is in the open and can hold 3000 people in an amphitheatre design. The actual area was originally a monastery in the walled city. The stage was brilliantly lit and the surrounding crenellations on the walls and the turrets and towers themselves created an extraordinary ambience. Al Jarreau is an American jazz singer and even though he is not a youngster any more his vocals are superb. His band has got to be world class as you would expect, and the solo efforts were wonderful. I have never seen and heard a better drummer and the full-house agreed. The bass player stunned us all when his solo incorporated a first class singing performance.
All in all a great memory to leave the country on.

Wed 12 Jul

Another hot day but we are determined not to waste our last full day. As our house guests will recall, it did not seem to matter where you were in the Languedoc there was a sign to Mazamet. We decide to take the 45km drive just to see what this seemingly 'all important destination' was all about.

We took the longer of all the alternative routes to get to Mazamet and as we approached Carcassonne we turned north and drove through undulating pasture land before starting the climb up the Montagne Noir. A lookout 3kms from the town offers a view down upon it and to the east, a view through the steep valleys of the mountains as they stretch away in a narrow band 50 kms away to the north of Montpelier. The sea of red tile roofs below indicates a bigger than expected town with a population of just over 10,000.

In the 18th century, Mazamet became a major centre for the wool industry. The local area produced natural dyes; the pastures on the mountains supported sheep; and the rivers supplying unlimited water. In the mid 19th century the town began importing sheepskins and developed techniques for 'pulling' the wool out of sheep skins rather than using sheared wool. Australia was a significant supplier of skins. The textile industry then did the carding, combing, spinning and weaving. The skins were then dressed for use. Unfortunately for Mazamet, this industry has seriously reduced and the town relies more and more on outdoor attractions in the wilderness areas.

Geographically, Caunes is nearly directly over the other side of the mountains to Mazamet. We drive east away from the town and at Albine, turn south to begin the climb over the mountain. It had to be the right road as it was called Rue Caunes. The road was good with virtually no traffic and as we climbed this northern side into the Parc du Haut Languedoc we noted the mixed forest cover of oak, beech, and spruce. Over the top and onto the southern slopes the cover is a more Mediterranean landscape of brush and vine. We loved the way the trees stretch across the road virtually forming a tunnel on the north side. On the way down we got different views of Lespinassiere and Citou. The round trip was about 90 kms and we are glad we did not miss it.

Seriously approaching the task of packing this afternoon with the battle of weight and space clearly engaged.

Thank you for the kind comments many have made about this blog over the period we have been in France. It becomes a bit of a rod for one's back to maintain the flow of information however, after reading through it, it has been worth the effort. My son's word-counter has it over 30,000 words for the last three months! I should acknowledge some sources of information: firstly, the Michelin 'Green Guide for Languedoc and the Tarn Gorges'; next, the 2001 edition of 'The Rough Guide to Languedoc and Roussillon' by Brian Catlos; the Cadogan Guide 'South of France" 2003; and 'France, The Rough Guide' by Baillie and Salmon. Each of these guides provided great research and descriptive material with the 'Green Guide' the most current and noticeably very popular with other travelers. I have been a serious collector of brochures and site guides which of course are perfect for detailed local knowledge. The internet has been particularly useful and I have found 'Wickipedia' a good tool. Language notwithstanding, I have spoken with the locals...they are amazingly forthcoming.

Espana, Les Malliols, and Goodbye Ingrid

Wed 05 Jul

We motor down to Narbonne before turning south towards Perpignon along the E81 Motorway. I know tolls are unpopular in Australia but if this is the quality of road that results we must then bite the bullet and 'pay the piper'...this is first class motoring on three lanes where trucks are prohibited from occupying the inside lane and traffic travels smoothly and, as far as we saw, safely, at 130 kph.

Regrettably, we have not been able to spend any time in Perpignon and this is a pity for it is a cosmopolitan city, capital of the department Pyrenees-Orientales, and a significant centre for the Catalan culture of the area. It has been a French city since the Treaty of the Pyrenees in 1649 after repeated campaigns of conquest by France. A substantial part of its population is descended from Spanish Catalans who poured across the border in the final days of the Spanish Civil War, desperate to escape reprisals at the hands of Franco's Castillion and Moroccan troops. There are also French colonists who fled independence movements in the 1950s and 60s. Finally, recent arrivals from Morocco and Algeria have created a melting pot atmosphere of the city which has made a Catalan culture difficult to maintain. It must be said however, that the Catalan movement is active. It is perhaps unfortunate that racial intolerance prevails. Le Pen's Front National party and its derivatives have consistently done well peddling a racist vision of white French nationals 'swamped' by outsiders.

The story of both Catalan and Occitan (pronounced ok-si-tan) is interesting and a little involved but here goes thanks to a couple of books I have found around the house. By the time the Roman Empire in the West had disintegrated, Latin had become the language of daily speech in most of what is now France. Over the next few centuries, spoken Latin began to evolve into local variants and eventually into new Romantic languages, from Spanish to Romanian. In the south of France, Occitan or the Langue d'Oc developed as at the same time the Langue d'Oil evolved in northern France. Occitan itself developed local variants and in northeast Spain and across the present day border into southern France emerged the Catalan language.

Around 1000 AD, a distinct Occitan literary language emerged used by the 'troubadours' or poets and singers/musicians whose themes varied from popular to religious to portrayals of courtly love. Eleanor of Aquitane's grandfather is viewed by many as one of the first great troubadours. Many of the troubadours were noblemen and others used their skill to ingratiate themselves into noble houses. Eleanor's second husband, Henry II and their sons, notably Richard the Lionheart, spoke Occitan. Many of the noble houses were lost during the Crusades against the Cathars and northern noblemen brought with them the Langue d'Oil which was the language of education and administration from the north which we know now as French. Thus the language faded until the mid-19th century when efforts were made to reinvigorate it particularly in the arts and literature. Lessons can be taken throughout the Region.

Some 10,000,000 or so Catalan speakers live in Spain, in a band of territory stretching south from the Pyrenees to Valencia and described as Catalonia. The 120,000 Catalan speakers in France live in the department Pyrenees-Orientales which incorporates areas of Catalan cultural importance and , as explained earlier, has Perpignon as its capital. An interesting aside to this is that after France took control of the Spanish area around Perpignon in 1649, Spain was allowed to maintain a small enclave around the town of Llivia which is located a few kilometres inside French territory to this day.

Catalan, like Occitan, was a language of the troubadours and it too became marginalised by Madrid who proscribed the language from official use. Today, there is a fairly active independence movement which sees the unification of the Catalan speaking areas, including in France, to become a separate state. This attitude is moreso in Spain than France where the locals are happy with their French status but are also happy to extol their distinctiveness and dream nostalgically of what might have been. Again, Catalan is taught at a variety of establishments in the region and the 'arts' world continues to support its use.

Out of Perpignon, we take the main 'Perpignon Sud' towards the border through Argeles and bypassing four substantial seaside towns ( we will see them on the way back) until we reach the quintessential Mediterranean sea-side town of Cerbere. The roads are extremely winding amongst the vineyards cascading down steep, terraced slopes and set off with old stone buildings and the occasional castle. It is noticeable that the vines have not progressed as far as those around Caunes and do not appear to be so 'bushy'. The local Banyuls Co-operative is however, very active and markets its product aggressively in roadside huts. We stop once or twice at suitable vantage points to take in the beauty of the rugged coastline dropping into the placid, shimmering, clear waters of the Med. In a sense it is a little like the scenery and beauty of the south coast of NSW.

We climb the hill out of Cerbere up to the border and see stretching away to the south the rugged coastline of the Costa Brava and immediately below us the town of Port-Bau. As we descend towards it you can't miss the large rail facility which is of course a major terminal for Spain providing a cross-over point to the equally large terminal in Cerbere. Port-Bau is on a reasonably large bay with three separate beaches and a high 'point' to the south. A modern marina looks to be able to handle about 150 boats and offers excellent protection. The water is crystal clear to around 10 metres and the number of good sized fish you can see is amazing.

The Hotel la Masia is a two storey affair right on the town square which is right on the beach. We went in for a room on spec and were delighted with an upstairs, front double with large balcony looking over the square and the beach...78 Euros. We explored the very hilly town on foot before settling into one of the four large beachside restaurants which were packed. Service was excellent although there is not much English spoken. I started with Stuffed Squid and a beer (the weather was hot) whilst Donna had Gazpacho and Diet Coke. My main was Flounder Menieure and Donna had a marvelous piece of Hake. I wanted a decent Spanish white wine and was recommended a Torres 'Vinas Sol'.It went remarkably well with our fish.

Thought we would watch the soccer between Germany and Portugal. Strangely, it was not available on any of the 12 channels we had access to.

Thu 06 Jul

I was up at dawn and strolled along the very stony beach and up to the 'point' to a memorial to Walter Benjamin and the local cemetery. Walter Benjamin was a Jewish philosopher who escaped Germany and the Nazis in France in 1941 and sought refuge in Spain. He was denied entry and commited suicide in a hotel room in Port-Bau. It appears that his work has been more recently recognised as brilliant and whether it is a salving of the public conscience or not I don't know however, his name pops up all over the place.
As the soil is so stony, cemeteries down here specialise in above ground crypts which I find fascinating but Donna does not!

We drive back to Cerbere, the southernmost of the French sea-side towns we want to see. The harbour is quite pretty and the mountain backdrop is impressive but the beach is negligible. A touch of older times in Australia here. Depending on the service,train passengers have to change train here or at Port-Bau as the guages are different.

Banyuls-sur-Mer has a history of an elegant wine town that produced a better than usual dessert wine. It has a wide stony beach that does not compare with its neighbours nevertheless, it is extremely popular and has a great aquarium I'm told.

Port-Vendres is a genuine, unsophisticated fishing village and has a large fish processing factory.

Collioure has a particular interest for us as artists of the calibre of Derain and Matisse used the town as their summer base. The town feeds off its maritime and artistic past and has a wonderful history of occupation by the Phoenicians, ancient Greeks, Romans, Visigoth, and Arabs.

Argeles-sur-Mer has a large, wide, sandy beach and is the ultimate tourist town. The town itself is divided in two: thew old Argeles-Ville, a little inland, and the new Argeles-Plage, which hosts an annual inundation of up to 300,000 French, Dutch, Belgian and English visitors.

Back now the way we have come to Narbonne and onto Caunes Minervois.

Fri 07 Jul

A day of rest in Caunes until we drive over to Villegly to Domaine les Malliols to celebrate with Christophe and Annabelle the approval for them to label their wines 'Appelation de Minervois'. There are well over a hundred people at this party and we are somewhat relieved when we spot Chris and Ray from Castans and formerly from the Jersey Islands. We arrange to meet them for lunch in Caunes next Monday. At last someone who speaks English. We also are delighted to see again Caroline and Jean Panis from Chateau Donjon and Geoff Hallett, an Australian who specialises in creating web-sites for wine chateaux and domaines. Our next door neighbours, Mike and Liz Coleman have asked us in to look at some paintings they have recently acquired. We take in a bottle of Blanquette de Limous which they like as much as we do.

Sat 08 Jul

Caunes Minervois

Sun 09 Jul

Ingrid is having lunch with us today at Hotel D'Alibert and we discuss and finalise arrangements for the telephone and electricity bills. Frederic has arranged his lunchtime sitting outside in his courtyard...a magnificent mediaeval setting. Ingrid is leaving for London tomorrow and we will not see her again as we leave on Thursday. Ingrid and Christopher have been very accommodating landlords and we will miss them. We settle in after dinner to watch an episode or two of 'Six Feet Under' before the last 20 minutes of the World Cup soccer final. I still feel the Italians are in the final under false pretences after the Spanish referee's dumb decision when we played them.

And Then They Were Gone

Mon 03 Jul

A last minute change of plans was in order to fit in a trip to the Bezieres area to see the Ecluses de Fonserane and the Oppidum d'Ensurene.

For me, this is the third time back to Bezieres. A city replete in history as the capital of Rome's first province in Gaul, Provincia. A couple of hundred years later Hannibal thundered by with his elephants and not the least, in the 1600s, the birthplace of Paul Riquet, the genius behind the construction of the Canal Du Midi. From a previous blog it might be recalled that one of the original wonders of the Canal's construction is the water stairway of seven locks at Fonserane that allows for the longest drop in altitude along the Canal's length.

Time is against us this morning so the visit is very brief before we drive the 10 kms to the remains of the Roman hill-fort at Ensurene. To be able to look history squarely in the eye through the marvelous excavations is a treat for the boys. After an hour or so we drive the 60 odd kms back to Caunes to pick up Donna and then to Homps for lunch and a cruise on the Canal.

Donna and I have eaten in the sunny courtyard of La Peniche restaurant on several occasions and thoroughly enjoyed it. The hosts, Anne and Alain, did not let us down. Eleanor was our waitress with whom we felt right at home as she had spent some months in Sydney and Brisbane a few years ago. Her attention and charming smile set the day off. Jeff and Karen had their first taste of 'cremante' which is an enhanced 'Blanquette de Limoux' which has just got to be one of the best 'bubblies' around.

At 1630 and with the sun still shining we boarded a diesel-driven wooden boat for a two hour trip up and back on the Canal. The trip includes negotiating a lock both ways and the commentary, in both French and English, provides a good understanding of the Canal's construction, maintenance, and usage. The serenity of gliding smoothly and almost noiselessly along is enervating and it is easy to appreciate the appeal of a floating holiday for a week or two.

Tue 04 Jul

We give ourselves plenty of time to get to Carcassonne this morning to return the Hertz car only to find that the train to Paris is running late and we have seriously overachieved. This did however, give us the opportunity to explore the Canal port at Carcassonne and to watch boats go through the lock adjacent to the rail station.

Anthony and I noticed a 'boxing kangaroo' flag on one of the berthed boats and struck up a conversation with the owner. He visited from Australia every year and spent all his time navigating the Canal on the boat which he owned. Both his hands were heavily bandaged as a result of rope burns suffered when he lost control of his boat going through a lock. The caricature on his boat was a kangaroo wearing a red 'beanie' hence the boat's name 'Rouge Chapeau'.

With about 10 minutes to go we assembled the bags on the station and in what seemed only an instant the Corail train arrived, they boarded, and were gone. I am pretty sure they enjoyed their stay and I think they saw and experienced more than they had anticipated they would. They were good shoppers and stocked up with goodies and memorabilia from the region. In particular the lovely rose coloured marble sculpture of a bunch of grapes by the renowned Caunes sculptor, Thierrey Aneau, should hold pride of place back in Gladstone.

It was a delight to have this close-knit family staying with us and we will miss them.

Back home again, we get ourselves in order and plan tomorrow's trip to Spain.

Courage Unrewarded

Sun Jul 06

It was Ernest Hemingway who attempted to romanticize bullfighting in his novel 'Death in the Afternoon' where he talked about the 'dance of death' and glorified the attendant ritual. Well, after an afternoon at the 'corrida' at Feria Fenouillet, neither I nor Donna, nor our visitors could find anything at all romantic or attractive about this ritualized butchery.

It was all the fun of the Fair as we arrived to be greeted by numerous food and drink tents packed with an assortment of humanity ranging in age from about 6 or 7 years up to men and women perhaps in their 70s. Most wore white 'T' shirts and red bandanas folded as neck sashes as well as hats of extraordinary variety. As we moved around it became apparent that there were negligible numbers of foreigners...this was a very parochial affair.

The arena was a temporary arrangement of steel scaffolding with a capacity of around 3,000. Prior to the action and immediately adjacent to the arena, Spanish dancers did their thing (the best part of the afternoon I thought) and artists, sculptors, booksellers, and equipment vendors did a roaring trade. At 1900 hrs we took our seats on the shady side and took in the building atmosphere. A brass band, which plays a significant role in the overall proceedings,struck up behind us in the stands. I estimate the stands would have been 2/3 full.

The band heralded a 'paseillo' or procession of all who would be participating in the event down to the 'sand-rakers' and manure collectors. They all doffed their caps to the 'president' who presumably gave them permission to start. At the sharp end there are three matadors who get to fight two bulls each. Assisting them at a lesser level are banderilleros and horse mounted picadors whose main task is to weaken the bull and to goad it into activity so that the matador can assess its style before he kills it.

The bulls are magnificent beasts bristling with energy and with their coats shining as they enter the ring...the pride of their breeders. The bulls weigh from between 450 to 600 kilos and are four years old. As they run in the breeder jabs a coloured ribbon into their back identifying his stud. The matador's assistants or banderilleros run out from behind their protective barriers at this stage and wave their 'capote' or capes to attract the bull who charges head first into the wall to the delight of the audience. The matador also has several passes at the bull.
The three elements of the fight are strictly timed and after the allotted period the band signals and the picador enters the ring on his heavily armoured horse. The horses are routinely deafened by putting wet newspaper or similar in their ears and are blindfolded...thus the horse's senses are dulled to ensure as far as possible that it does not move away as the bull thunders into its side, literally lifting it off its feet. Further, the horse's vocal cords are cut so that it makes no noise as it is hit by the bull. As the bull attempts to gore the terrified horse, the picador drills his long steel-pointed spear into the bulls backbone behind its neck. This procedure is repeated twice until again, the band signals 'time' and the picador leaves the ring. That was the end of stage one.

The bull now is seriously wounded and blood streams down its side. It is apparent that it is feeling pain and is becoming disoriented as the banderilleros continue to antagonise it with their capes. Each of them now get to plant brightly coloured bandarillas into the bull's back. As I understand it, this is not intended to weaken the animal further but to re-invigorate it after its clash with the picador. The banderilleros stand on tip toe with the bandorillas raised above their heads then run towards the bull and plant the sticks which are barbed into the back where they remain in the animal.

The band now signals the third and final stage...the 'suerte suprema' or killing of the bull. The matador (toreador is not used nowdays) has ten minutes to achieve the kill and takes a muleto or red cape which maintains its shape by being held across a wooden stick. He carries his sword in his right hand and he goads the bull into a series of passes where he demonstrates his grace of movement and his 'mastery' over a seriously weakened animal. All the activities prior to this, and the matador's movements, have been designed to disorient the animal and, in particular, weaken its neck muscles. With its head consequently lowered, the matador is given the best opportunity to drive his sword between the shoulder blades and into the animal's heart. The bull's sides are heaving as it struggles to get air into its lungs and its tongue rolls around outside of its mouth as it seemingly contemplates its courses of action. The matador lines up his sword in a ballet like gesture and moves his muleto closer to the ground to entice the bull to charge head down. With no other option, this is what the bull is bred to do and as it charges the sword strikes deeply into the heart...you wish. On Sunday, only one bull died almost immediately. It took five goes to sink the blade into the fifth bull! Once the sword is driven in, two banderilleros take a position either side of the stricken animal and alternately wave their capes. The side-to-side movement of its head as it follows the capes is designed to move the sword sufficiently so that the internal organs are sliced and mutilated. The crowd seemed oblivious to the incompetence being demonstrated and cheered on.

All of the bulls were gallant. We found it heart rending to watch these courageous animals rise to their feet and stagger as they fought the effects of their mortal wounds. The crowd cheered on. When the bull finally falls it is usually not dead and a coup de grace with a special knife is necessary to sever its spinal cord. The crowd cheered on. The matador struts the arena like a peacock as the rakers rake and the crowd cheers on. A duo of mules is driven into the ring and a chain is attached to the bulls horns and, in each case, the recently magnificent beast is dragged lifelessly and unrewarded to the waiting butcher outside the arena...and the crowd cheered on.

There will be no more bullfights for us however, maybe the protesters grouped outside the area might welcome us into their fold. Perhaps I could be enticed into attending a 'course camarguaise' where athletic 'raseteur' dressed in white, challenge themselves to pluck rosettes from between the horns of charging bulls and the bull lives to play again and where, quite often, the 'raseteur' leaves the arena bloodied, sometimes lifeless and for little reward.

We found nothing to cheer about as we made the two hour trip home and pondered the fact that some 30,000 bulls a year suffer this ignominious fate.

A Bull in the Basilica

Sun 02 Jul

There has been much anticipation of today's events which requires us to take two cars the 110 odd kms into Toulouse. Our first visit involves the beautiful Basilica St Sernin followed by lunch on the Rue de Taur. Secondly, and with mixed feelings, we attend the 'Feria Fenouillet' or Fenouillet Fair to watch the 'corrida' or bullfights in the arena. The two activities are poles apart save that they both involve bulls,and demand separate blog entries.

I have briefly mentioned the Basilica previously (see 'The Sounds of Angels' 20 May 06) as we had a short visit to it the day we picked up Graham and Barbara. This visit has been better planned and given the time it deserves.

The Michelin 'Green Guide' describes the Basilica as the most famous and most magnificent of the great Romanesque pilgrimage churches in the south of France.

I realized I was not really sure what Romanesque meant so I did some research.
The term refers literally to the intent of designing in the style and manner of Rome. As a style, it reveals the master masons craft, with its concern for architecture rather than sculpture. The most recognizable feature of Romanesque buildings is their massiveness. Their Gothic descendents appear much more slender. An important structural development in Romanesque churches was the vaulted roofs as an alternative to fire prone wooden roofs. Vaults became a major architectural innovation in ensuing centuries.

Abbeys and monasteries in the 9th and 10th centuries ignited demand for larger, more utilitarian buildings. Large monastic orders required facilities for housing, industry, and religious purposes so the new building skills and techniques emerged.

Architectural forms in Europe are dated along the following lines:

Carolingian.....800-900
Ottonian........1000s
Romanesque......1000s-1100s
Gothic..........late 1100s-1400s
Renaissance.....1400s-1600

Even for a Romanesque church, St Sernin is particularly vast, measuring 115 metres in length, 64 metres wide, and a bell tower surmounted by a spire is 65 metres high.

Pilgrims came from far and wide to honour the martyr St Sernin who, in 250, refused to sacrifice a bull to pagan gods and was consequently tied to the bull and dragged to his death along the Rue de Taur.

As mentioned before, the church is predominately made with red bricks as stone was too expensive to bring to Toulouse. Inside, the sheer size is at once awesome yet peaceful. In the chancel, beneath the dome of the transept crossing is a table of Pyrenean marble from the altar consecrated by Pope Urban II in 1096. In the ambulatory (the area to the side of and behind the altar) and in the crypt there are numerous altar-pieces and reliquaries on display. Carved, gilded, and painted wooden caskets contain the remains of various Saints.

After our visit we went down the Rue de Taur for a lunch of salads and crepes before moving onto Fenouillet.

Boar, Donkey, or Ostrich, M'Sieur?

Sat 01 Jul

Another Financial Year over and everyone at home is beginning to think creatively about clawing back hard-earned money paid as tax. Unfortunately for most of us, the vast majority of our tax is now paid as GST and that is money 'done and dusted'. Amazing isn't it that the Government has more money than at any time in our history. No doubt the resources boom is contributing however, the new tax system, promoted as the salaried class's friend, is doing very well thank you yet the poor seem to be getting poorer and the rich...well, I have not heard any of them complain about their tax cuts.
By the way, how is it that this Government can cry poor in relation to our war veterans. "Not a vote catching issue" admit the politicians who wrap themselves in the glory of our Servicemen yet fail them miserably after the job is done. I wonder how many Australians are aware that the Department of Veterans' Affairs has employed a firm of private investigators who use whatever means to determine the position of 'old soldiers' many of whom are in their eighties. Australia has serving and ex-serving people hurting. Our soldiers, sailors, and airmen need help now and only the collective voice of the community is going to bring the 'pollies' to account.

My creativity though must be directed to 'the blog' and today has been a little easier. It's Carcassonne for our guests and the plan is to visit the markets in the morning and then to leave them to their own devices at the old walled town...La Cite. We headed off early and parked in the underground carpark. Jeff and I reckon the lingerei advertisements probably have a lot to do with the time it takes most cars driven by men to get their tickets.

I have recently discussed the Saturday markets in this blog. Today however, our guests were particularly taken with the 'charcuterie' stands (smallgoods). At the sausage stand you find small plastic animals on the meats. One can buy wild boar, pork, donkey, ostrich, beef, horse, goat and that's just for starters. Offal is popular over here if you couldn't guess.

The boys were all eyes in the meat and fish hall. The meat cuts are very 'bloody' and most of the birds such as pigeon, quail, fowl, turkey, and ducks are presented whole having only been plucked. The heads being left on is not really to our taste and the look on the boys' faces confirmed this.

Most of the fish comes from the Meditteranean and if you caught many of the species you would be inclined to throw them back. It is suprising though how good the fish is to eat here. The downside for most of us buying at such a market would be the smell. We have found the prawns to be pretty tasteless and the very popular oysters are not to our taste. Cockles and mussells are sold in their thousands and, with rice, saffron, prawns, langoustine, fish, and chicken make the most delectable 'paella'.

The general market weaved its spell and Jeff couldn't refuse an outstanding bargain in a pair of sandals.

Before heading off to La Cite we all visited the very beautiful Cathedral of Saint-Nazaire where an organ recital was in progress...loud, yet wondrous.

At this stage Donna and I returned to Caunes to sneak a rest. On all accounts our visitors thoroughly enjoyed La Cite notwithstanding that there was no English speaking tour of Trencavell's castle...leaves you wondering about the French approach to tourism!