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.