Perpignan

This was my last trip before I leave for Canada for the Christmas holidays. I have travelled somewhere every week-end in November and I have to admit that I'm a bit weary.  It will be nice to wake up without an alarm clock next Saturday. On this particular voyage, I was joined by a fellow classmate, Magda, from Poland. We agreed to meet at the train station early and for the first time for me, the train was en retard (late) 25 minutes. We decided to go across the street for a coffee to pass the time before departure.

When I researched Perpignan on the Internet, I found very mixed reviews on the place. Some people just loved it and others, not so much. I learned that Perpignan is half Catalan and half French (all the street signs are in both languages) and it is the last major town in the Languedoc region before the Spanish border. We both noticed the strong Spanish influence in the architecture. It is now home to many people from Algeria and Morocco who moved to France to escape repression in their own country. 

Our walk from the train station into the town took us across this pretty scene - I think the canal is called La Basse.

We had intended to stop and visit the Castillet (below) which was first the city gate and then later a prison. Unfortunately, it was closed and I'm not sure why. The portal leads to the old city.

Just beside the Castillet, there was a very small patinoire or skating rink and the children sat in these sleighs that moved easily on the ice. It was fun to watch the people skating on such tiny surface.

Before I left, I had checked the weather in Perpignan. It was supposed to be to be cloudy and cool, but no rain. So, I decided to leave my umbrella at home because my back-pack is heavy enough on its own. Within an hour of our arrival, it began to rain. Where was my umbrella when I needed it? To avoid the rain, we decided to go for lunch. The restaurant I had read about and wanted to try was also closed on Saturdays at noon. Instead, we found a restaurant called le Divil in the city centre. I ordered the Poulet Fermier Facon cocotte à l'ancienne with a glass of the house red which was excellent.

After a lovely lunch, we decided to brave the elements and see some of the sights of Perpignan. En route to the cathedral, we came across this scene and I just had to take a picture. Artificial snow was used to make it look "Christmasy" I guess. It was a little unusual for this Canadian.

The Cathédrale Saint-Jean Baptiste. My travel companion, Magda is the blond in front. 

The Cathédrale wasn't particularly interesting to me and I found parts of the interior quite ornate and gaudy. However, the ceiling was rather nice. Beside the cathédrale was the Campo Santo which is the only cloistered cemetery in France. Once again, to me it was rather non-descript. There are four galleries with long rows of white marble Gothic porticos.

From there, we made our way to the Casa Xanxo which was the private house of a rich draper named Bernut Xanxo. It was built during the 16th century and today houses art expositions. We had a chance to see the "Perpignan Romantique" exhibition which featured Catalan costumes, jewellry, paintings and photographs from 1815-1848. The building also had a charming courtyard. Here is a picture which gives you a glimpse of just how old this building is. Apparently, it is one of the only Gothic houses that was conserved in Perpignan.

Last tourist stop was the Palais des rois de Majorgue. As is the case in most of the places I visited, you walk uphill and once you arrive, the winds begin to howl. I thought we might get a good view of the city, countryside and the mountains from the palace, but it was not meant to be. It was cloudy and foggy and not picture worthy today. 

This palace was originally the king's residence and its constuction began in 1276. We were a little pressed for time, so we did not go into the palace for a visit. From what I had read, the most note worthy parts to visit anyway, were the gardens and the courtyard. 

An orange tree outside the palace.

It was late afternoon so we started to make our way back to the train station. Here are a few of the things we saw along the way. 

Some of the many palm trees in Perpignan.

I loved the lush green plants and flowers growing on the balconies of this apartment and to think it is November 30!

Both Magda and I thought Perpignan was a rather pretty place with narrow streets, interesting architecture and friendly people. Magda thought it was quieter and less busy than Montpellier and I concur. Perhaps if we had had more time and the weather had cooperated, we would have also visited a nearby fishing village called Collioure that our prof Caroline said was very picturesque.  

I'm going to end this blog with a picture of Père Noël. Patricia tells me that many of the cities in the south of France are hosting "le marché de Noël" and Perpignan is no exception. I saw my first Père Noël with a little girl and took his picture. In my next blog, I'll tell you more about "le marché de Noël". Until then..

Il neige à Montpellier

A quick entry to let you know it snowed briefly today. We were sitting in class when all of a sudden a student who comes from Columbia jumped up and pointed at the window. It was snowing and this was the first time he had ever seen it. In a flash, he was out of the room, down the stairs and out on the street. He was soon joined by his buddy, another fellow Columbian. A third person took their picture as the snow fell while the rest of us watched from the large window in our classroom above. Caroline, our prof, said she has lived in Montpellier for the last ten years and this is only the second time she has seen snow here. Fortunately, it was over almost as quickly as it started. 

If you look really hard, you might see a few white streaks in the picture. That was the extent of the snow.

Coming from Canada, I think snow is highly overrated. However, it was fun to watch the reaction and the excitement of my fellow classmate. I just hope it doesn't happen again!

Le Bookshop

The other day in class, a couple of the students told us about the rendezvouz they had at a place called the Bookshop. On Mondays and Fridays from 5-7 p.m. people meet there to practice both English and French. I thought that it might be a great opportunity for me to meet some other people and practice both my comprehension and oral skills. Although a bit nervous, I decided to try it. A group of us enjoyed a pleasant lunch first on an outdoor terrace in a courtyard near the school. There wasn't any wind and the sun was shining. 

The gent on the right is Jonathan, from Scotland. The other is a new student, Ludwig, from Germany. I know you can't possibly guess who's in the middle holding onto a glass of red wine.

This was our view from la terrasse - jolie, n'est-ce pas?

A third person, Gabriel, also joined us for lunch. Gabriel is a delightful guy from Switzerland and he was actually the one who told me about the Bookshop. After lunch, Gabriel and I headed to another café for a coffee and to do a little studying while the other two went off on their respective business. Shortly before five, we made our way over to the tiny shop which is located on a petite rue in the Quartier L'Ancien Courrier. Gabriel suggested we arrive early because the place fills quickly and he was right. 

Le Bookshop

A

Once you go into the place, you order a non alcoholic beverage of your choice and a snack if you are so inclined. That's the price of admission. Then you go downstairs to a wonderful room lined with books, many of which are English. Some books are used and you can go there during the day to read them and others are for sale. However, I digress. Next you find a place to sit. There are tables and chairs, but the room is very tiny. I reckon there were about 25-30 people who attended the session. Basically, you just introduce yourself to the people nearby and start chatting. 

Initially, I met several French people who were practicing their English - a student of finance, a real estate agent and a gent from Italy. Then a young woman sat down next to me. She spoke French quite well, but lo and behold, she came from Vancouver. She has lived in Montpellier for the last 13 months with her boyfriend who is studying law. Like me, when she first arrived she was very frustrated trying to learn the language, but she has subsequently relaxed and decided to enjoy the "French experience". She made several really good suggestions such as taking a class in yoga or cooking or something like that to get a different perspective. She also gave me links to a few websites that she has found very useful. One of my goals this week had been to try and find someone just to talk to en français over a cup of coffee. It turns out that she has some free time and we are going to meet tomorrow. Before I knew it the two hours were up and I had spoken French for almost the entire time. The whole experience was very positive and I'll definitely go back to the Bookshop on Friday. 

The best thing of all happened when I arrived home and told Patricia all about my day. She said for the very first time "Tu parles bien -pas de fautes" (you are speaking well with no mistakes) That made my day!

Carcassonne

Patricia loaned me a coat that belonged to her mother - a warm, fleece lined leather coat. I am going to need it today, because it is bloody cold with strong winds. It is early Saturday morning and I'm on the train headed for Carcassonne. My prof warned me that Carcassonne would be colder than here because of the winds that come from les montagnes noirs (the black mountains just before the Pyrenees). She was absolutely right. When I got home I told Patricia that I would have perished had it not been for her coat, the scarf I bought at the vide grenier and the beret that Robin and Tim gave me for Christmas last year. Enough of the weather - I think you have the picture.

Carcassonne is a fortified medieval French town divided in two- the Cité de Carcassonne and the more expansive lower city, la ville basse or la Bastide de Saint Louis. My game plan, as always, was to visit the Tourist Office to get a map and then start exploring. Fortunately, there are three tourist offices in Carcassonne. Unfortunately, the first two I went to were closed. Once I had map in hand, I worked my way from the La Bastide de Saint Louis (the lower city) over the Pont vieux and up a steep hill to La Cité Médiévale.

A picture of the L'Aude rivière from the Pont vieux

An odd looking art installation on the banks of the river

Views of La Cité Médiévale on the way up. It's pretty impressive and from what I gather even more so from an autoroute or at dusk.

These are pictures of the ramparts or exterior walls and some of the towers. Although I didn't count them, I believe there are 52 towers on the site. Le Château Comptal otherwise known as the Carassonne Castle and the ramparts were declared a UNESCO world hertitage site in 1997. From what I have read, it is the second most popular tourist attraction in France, next to the Eiffel Tower. Despite the bitter cold, there were other tourists visiting this magnificent place.

This sculpture of La Dame Carcas adorns the entrance to La Cité, La Porte Narbonnaise. Here is an interesting story that I read. Legend has it that she was the widow of the leader of the Saracens who inhabited the Cité in the 9th century. The Franks, led by Charlemagne, were attempting to overtake the town and believed they could make them submit by starving them. Unbeknownst to the Franks, the only food that remained in the city were a few sacks of grain and a pig. Dame Carcas fed all the grain to the pig and then threw it over the walls. When the pig fell to the ground, its belly split open. The troops retreated thinking there were abundant food supplies. The church bells began to peal in celebration and the people chanted "Carcas....sonne" (Carcas...sings), hence the name Carcassonne. However, this likely is nothing more than folk lore because the Saracens were Muslims and wouldn't have had a pig within the walls of the city. Also, at that time, people spoke Latin, not French. The name more likely came from the Occitan roots "carac" meaning rock or stone and "sonne" meaning wood from the forests around the town. I think I enjoyed the more romantic version of how Carcassonne got its name.

 

After passing through the gate, I turned left and walked into the list or lice en français. This is the gap between the two ramparts. The walkway is made of stones and I think my brother Trev, the geologist, would have been most interested.  

I decided to climb the stairs and walk along the exterior ramparts. Here are a few pictures from that vantage point. The first is a picture of a cemetery and I was surprised to see all the flowers on the gravesites. 

The countryside looking southeast.

It was so cold and windy that I ventured through the interior ramparts to warm up and take a look at La Basilique St Nazaire. I was unable to get a picture of the exterior of the church, but it is most famous for its enormous rose windows, weird gargoyles and large organ.

Just outside the basilica, there is a lovely hotel (below) and charming buildings, narrow alleys, restaurants, stores and cafés. On a lovely day, I would have spent far longer wandering the streets, but is was just too miserable to do so. 

After paying my entrance fee, I walked over the bridge through the main entrance to the castle. That is where I picked up my audio guide from a kind gentleman. I said "Bonjour Monsieur" and he immediately responded "you would like an English audio guide?". I asked him in French, "how did he know I was English with only two words?" He replied in English that it was my accent - I think it was that darned "r" sound or lack thereof. No doubt many Canadians and Americans speak with a non native accent, but I have been told by others, they find it "jolie" or pretty.

I spent a couple of hours exploring the castle using the audio guide. There was also a short film that described the history of the castle and the old Cité. The castle had fallen into ruin over the years due to its long and turbulent history as a strategic location between France and Spain. In 1853, an architect named Eugene Viollet-le-Duc (who also restored Notre-Dame de Paris) began its lengthy restoration. The restoration of the castle and the southern part of the city were completed in 1911.

A view of the lower city from one of the castle towers.

By the time I finished touring the castle I was tired, cold and hungry so I made my way back down the hill to the lower city. I had read about a couple of restaurants on websites and decided to try this modest place. The proprietor, both chef and server, and his wife had Alsacien roots. 

My entrée was a Tartine de Chèvre - grilled goat cheese served on a crunchy toasted baguette atop walnuts. It was delicious.

For the plat, I ordered a Filet de Colin - a boneless filet of fish unknown to me served with a cream sauce and potatoes. Naturally this lovely meal was accompanied by the house red (I have no idea what  is was, except that it was good.)

By the time I finished lunch it was close to 2:30 and sadly all the markets were finished. This is a picture of the old grain market which now houses Les Halles, a large indoor market.

I did manage to take a picture of the open market in the Place Carnot or central square first thing in the morning en route to the tourist office. Those poor vendors and patrons would have been really cold and wet.

I spent what was left of the afternoon in the ville basse mostly in shops to try and stay out of the wind and cold. As a matter of fact, I bought myself a pair of Italian shoes in one of the stores. Had the day been warm and sunny, I would have taken a trip in one of the boats along the Canal du Midi, also a UNESCO site. I don't even think the boats were operating because it was so cold. 

To end, I do have a picture of flowers outside a church that managed to survive the inclement weather. Go figure!

Musings

When you first visit or move to a place, just like when you first fall in love, everything is beautiful. When I  arrived here I fell in love with the architecture, the food, the history, the moderate climate and the language. I liked the people too. Montpellians seem to be very liberal, open and tolerant of differences like racial and sexual minorities or homeless persons called SDF (sans domicile fixe).  Most have been kind and very polite. The other day in class, we learned how to use the phone in France and there are so many rules of politeness that I decided I won't be calling anybody for awhile, at least in France. Even at the grocery store, the conversation between the cashier and the customer is very cordial. 

After awhile of living here however, just like in a relationship, you start to notice some of the "warts".  I've written about a few of them in previous blogs. Perhaps the thing I find most offensive and also most surprising is the fact that Southeast France (particularly the cities) is dirty and smelly with garbage, cigarette butts, urine, spit and dog excrement. I daren't lift my head when I walk for fear I might step in something untoward. I'm not the only one - this tends to be a frequent topic of discussion in my classes. Apparently, although I've not yet seen it, there is a scooter with a vacuum specifically designed to scoop up the "crottes de chien".  This doesn't seem to be as big an issue in some of the other cities and villages that I've visited like Toulouse or Lyon, but it is a big problem here and in Marseille. 

My relationship with Montpellier is still quite new and I have to admit the good bits overshadow the rest, just as in most relationships. I can still look at flowers and palm trees in November. Beautiful, historical buildings, monuments and fountains are all around me. The grocer I pass every morning on my way to school nods, smiles and says "Bonjour Madame". The public transport is efficient. My school is excellent and so far my profs have been great. I have found a few restaurants that I frequent at lunch where the food is consistent, well priced and delicious. I am not far from the beach and the train service to nearby towns and cities is affordable and efficient.  Best of all, I live in a very comfortable home with a warm, funny, kind and helpful host. In the scheme of things, life is good! 

Other brief observations:

Unlike Canada, where 77% of people don't smoke, most people here do and they seem to start smoking at a very young age. Smoking laws are much more liberal. The majority of people tend to buy tobacco and roll their own with papers and funny looking filters (to me that is). 

The garbage in front of the Roma camp I talked about previously has been cleared by the city. It looks like there may be some construction on the site in the near future. I wonder what will happen to the Romas.

You can still buy coloured toilet paper here.

There are many homeless people and most of them are young.

Dogs are allowed everywhere - in restaurants, bars, trams, trains etc. I can get my "dog fix" most days. Leashes are optional, but are required if you take your animal on public transport or into stores and restaurants.

Eggs sold here are not refrigerated. Even Patricia doesn't keep them in the fridge.

The cheese is outstanding - the best in the world. There are different varieties in every region.

Baguettes vary in quality. I love the artisanal variety with a crunchy crust and an interior that is light, flavourful and not gummy. I doubt I will learn how to make a baguette because everyone buys them. Boulangeries open early and a baguette costs less than a euro. You couldn't make one at home for that price.

Most everyone wears scarves of all types, colours and sizes all year - men, women and children. 

(Side note: I bought a warm scarf to wear at le vide grenier in Celleneuve for 50 centimes - the equivalent of about 70 cents Canadian. It has been getting a lot of use this last week because it has been cold)

The wine I've tried so far is very good and very affordable.

Food, for the most part, is extraordinary.

I have so much to learn!

Thank you for reading my blog. I actually like writing it and so enjoy hearing from others with their perceptions. When you are away from family and friends, it is nice to find out what people have been up to. It is the everyday "stuff" that I enjoy - things like what you did or thought about this week at work and at play.  It keeps me connected to you and that is what really matters when you are living on the other side of the world. À bientôt ....

8th week of school in Montpellier, France

I realize I haven't talked much about the reason I am here for quite awhile, so this entry will be devoted to school. I wish I could say I was fluent and could understand everything that is said, but sadly that is not the case. Presently, I am in my 8th week of the standard course at ILA. There are 8-10 students in the class and we have 3 hours of instruction every morning. The prof is great. She speaks clearly, softly and slowly and has taught us some very helpful tips. The program is the same as what I have described in previous posts - grammar lessons - things like verb tenses, demonstrative and possessive adjectives, adverbs, use of pronouns etc., exercises to practice reading and writing, oral language skills, vocabulary, games etc. We usually have some homework to do which I work on in the afternoons. I also purchased a couple of additional grammar manuals that have lessons and exercises to complete. Naturally, I had to buy the answer guides as well to be sure I was completing the exercises correctly. In addition, I downloaded a program called Duolingo that Keith told me about. I have been working through the lessons, but at times it makes me angry. Online programs do have their hiccups. I also found a few others on my own that I have used to augment my language aquistion. 

Most students advance after 6 weeks in each level, but I have decided to stay where I am for the time being. I missed the first level all together (A1 for absolute beginners 4-6 weeks). I started at the second level (A2 Beginner) and only had 4 weeks there. Now I am in what they call Intermediate B1. If I remain there until Christmas, I think I will have a solid foundation in the grammar and hopefully more time to improve my oral skills and comprehension. After all, I have 3 months left when I come back. The students in levels C1 and C2 are preparing for university. I'm not gunning for university - I just want to be able to read a menu, talk to someone in French and be understood. 

A few interesting things have happened recently. A new gent started in my class today. He happens to be around my age and comes from Vancouver, Canada. He speaks French like I do - with a Canadian accent. As a matter of fact several of the more mature students I've met that are Canadian, including me, speak in a similar way. I don't know whether it is our age or our culture or what. We might develop a decent vocabulary and get a handle on the grammar, but I'm convinced that we will never sound very French. Articles I have read confirm that once you are an adult, it is much more difficult to acquire a native accent. However, sounding good and being understood are two different things and I am really striving for the latter.

On my trip to Lyon last weekend, I met the most delightful woman who sat beside me on the train. I wish that she didn't work because I would love to meet her regularly just to chat en français. She was around my age and had the same sensibilities. She was very patient with me as I struggled to find words and then kindly corrected my pronunciation or verb conjugation. We conversed for over an hour and the time just flew by. At this point, I think that is the best way to learn - just get out there and talk to French people. Conversing with fellow students isn't quite as helpful because they are in the same boat as me. My mission this week is to try and find someone to meet with for coffee a couple of times a week to "shoot the breeze" en français. Patricia is fabulous, but I am sure it must be fatiguing for her to listen to me all the time.  I am also thinking about signing up for a few one on one lessons with a prof from the school. The sessions are very expensive, but they might be worth it. It is something I am going to think about over the next while.  

I definitely know more French than when I arrived so I reckon anything I take away from this experience is a bonus. Although I did have an attitude adjustment and decided to fret less and enjoy more, it is still nice to have a cheering team of support. Thanks to my family and friends in Canada, England, USA and Germany for your kind words of encouragement. They are always appreciated.  I look forward to hearing from you anytime. 

Lyon

Despite the cool and gloomy weather, I am off on another day trip - this time to Lyon. Perhaps the pictures will be less than stellar, but after all it is winter. Lyon is the 3rd largest city and is known as the gastonomic centre of France. Lyonnaise fare includes specialities like tripe trotters, veal head, marrons glacés (candied chestnuts) etc. It is nestled between two of the best wine growing regions - Beaujolais to the north and Côtés du Rhône to the south. Apparently Beaujolais is the common table wine served with the local dishes. Besides the gastronomy, Lyon is known as an economic and business centre with hi tech industries, medical and research technology and a booming tourist industry.

Here is a picture of part of Lyon taken from the top of Fourvière Hill (more about that in a minute). The river you see is the Saône. 

 

Back in the day, Lyon was the silk capital of Europe and remained so for centuries. In the 4th century, a number of narrow tunnelled passages called traboules were built through ancient buildings. These traboules link parallel streets and open to interior courtyards. They were originally built so that silk could be transported more easily in rainy weather. During the war, they also proved to be valuable to the French Resistance to avoid the Gestapo. They can be fairly tricky to find (you have to get the map from the Tourist Office) and then you have to press a buzzer to open the door to enter. 

This is a picture of the longest taboule in Lyon.

Here is one of the interior courtyards. People live in the apartments above.

Back to Fourvière Hill. Due to time restraints, and more importantly a very steep hill, I decided to take the funicular up to the Théâtres Gallo-romains. These are the remains of the original Roman settlement of Lugdunum. The two Roman ampitheatres built in 43 B.C. are still used today for concerts, dance and theatre. The first picture is the smallest one.

I am standing in front of the other one - much larger than the first.

From there, I made my way up to the Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière on another funicular. The panoramic views atop the hill were breathtaking despite the weather. I can only imagine how beautiful this would be on a bright and sunny day.

The exterior of the church has four towers and one bell tower with a gilded statue of the Virgin Mary.

Inside, I found the basilica to be a "bit over the top" and too ornate for my taste. However, you can form your own opinion.

I did like the floor however. There is something about the polished stone in the middle that holds great appeal.

The basilica actually has two levels and the lower level was much less ornate and more to my taste.

On the other side of the basilica was a replication of the last stage of the Eiffel Tower, la Tour Métallique. Built in 1893, it now serves as a TV transmitter.

Up until this point, things were going along relatively smoothly and I was making good time. However, somehow I had managed to lose my day ticket for public transportatiion and you have to have coins to purchase tickets. I had exhausted my change when I purchased the first one and only had bills with me. That meant I had to walk back down the steep hill to Vieux-Lyon. No problem I thought because the gal at the tourist office told me I could walk through les Jardins du Rosaire, which according to her, was a lovely zig-zag path back to the old city.  Now, as both my dear husband Keith and brother Trev can attest to, my sense of direction is not the best. There were several different exits leaving the basilica and I chose the wrong one twice, no less. Eventually I found a way down although my trek to Vieux-Lyon was long and steep. The silver lining was that I passed by some beautiful buildings on the way. 

By the time I made it back down, it was mid afternoon and I was pretty hungry. I had read about a restaurant called L'Auberge Rabelais on the Rue St-Jean. The place was full but, fortunately I was able to get a table. 

As mentioned earlier, Lyon is famous for its gastronomy. I surveyed the menu and decided upon a fixed menu and a glass of house red. The entrée was a Salad Lyonnaise. This salad is basically greens, with bacon, croutons and a softly cooked poached egg on top. I was a little underwhelmed and wasn't keen on the runny poached egg.

For the main course, I selected a Soufflé aux Quenelles. This was a delicious mildly flavoured fish soufflé in a cream sauce served with a side dish of rice. It was very hot and cooked to perfection.

Last course was a choice between a variety of desserts or a cheese. I chose the Tarte aux Fruits which turned out to be an apple tart. It was good, but I regret not ordering the cheese. The cheese was St. Marcellin and from one article I read, it was supposed to be divine. Next time....

After lunch I only had about an hour left before I had to get to the train station. I really wanted to take a peek at the Cathédrale St-Jean. The exterior reminded me of Notre-Dame in Paris. Inside was undergoing renovations, so there was very little to see. However, the stained glass round window at the top was that beautiful sapphire blue like the stain glass windows in the Chartres Cathedral in Northern France. 

Cathédrale St-Jean

I passed by several interesting shops, but didn't have the time to go in.

When I was in nursing school, I often had Sunday dinner at my good friends, the Metcalfes. Almost every time, we would have a bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape with dinner. Those were the days when it was affordable to drink regularly. As I passed by this window, those happy memories came flooding back and I wish I had had the time to stop and taste the wine. 

A pretty street in Vieux-Lyon.

Last stop before the train station was the Place de Comedie with the Hôtel de Ville...

.....and this magnificent fountain 

Alas, I had run out of time. There were many other things to see and do in this lovely city, so I think I will have to return at a later date to do a little more exploring. This is place well worth visiting in my books.