Saturday, May 23, 2015

Castle and Cave Betsy's Blog

Wednesday 5/20 JP had his hair cut at 2.30 in Cordes at the La Cosy Hair salon by a really cute blonde who seemed to own the place. He went from shaggy old goat to cutting edge interesting older man in 20 minutes. Around 3 we left to drive south through Toulouse to Carcassonne and a hotel at the foot of cliffs.

Thursday morning: Carcassonne castle up on the top is like every fairy tale you ever saw illustrated with tall towers with conical roofs, huge surrounding walls, narrow cobblestone passages winding up and around towards the center. But there are no cascading roses, no little princesses in pretty dresses, or handsome princes paying court. This one means business. The lines are straight and severe. There are innumerable narrow vertical slits in the walls that widen out on the inside in an arc so bowmen can aim out over a wide area with very little exposure, maybe 4-8 inches in width. The windows are small, there are double gates, double or triple walls and the predominant color is rock gray. It is as imposing as a battleship, more so since a defense has been here since Roman times. It lies on a trade route from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic, in a broad area dotted with lots of bastides, little walled towns. Before it got quite so fortified, it was captured by the northern French forces in the early 1200’s when they came down in holy fury for the heretics. Apparently Northern France was a cohesive fighting force molded by centuries of fighting off the Vikings, whereas the folks south of the protecting Massif Central monkeyed around with their beliefs and fought among themselves. They also didn’t have primogeniture going so holdings got split up into itty bits among both sons AND daughters. Noble but not effective. The northerners came in and slaughtered, raped and pillaged and that was the Albigensian Crusade sanctioned by the Pope. They proceeded to fortify the castle to the impregnable condition, ( after restoration within the last 130 years) that we saw. Now, of course, there are lots of boutiques, eateries, jewelry shops and tourist stuff in the inner town. And roses. And I saw a high waisted little princess dress on a manikin in a shop window!




From there we drove east to the Mediterranean Sea. JP and I got our first and only lifetime glimpse of the Mare Nostrum from the superhighway before turning North to Vallon-Pont d’Arc, up in the massif, along the Ardeche river, a prime kayaking and camping area where we spent the night in a romantic white tent after a stupendous meal that included paper thin veal, potatoes shaped like overturned boats, pesto drizzled around and some tiny translucent blue green berries that exploded with sweet juiciness. This town is also the site of the Chauvet Caverne which contains spectacular paintings from 36,000 years ago. 21,500 years ago a landslide blocked the opening completely until natural forces opened a seam through which a cave hunter, M. Chauvet felt a rush of air in 1994. He and his 2 companions dug around, crawled through a very narrow channel and came out into the discovery of many many lifetimes. Though the actual cave was immediately closed to the public, the government built a recreation further up the side of the valley which opened just last month and that is what we got tickets for. Just go, if you ever get the chance. The most beautiful and astonishing works are at the deepest end of the cave. We had 5-6 minutes to look at paintings as masterful as Rembrandt or Picasso. JP was in pain at being pulled away. Nothing in Western art has more motion and knowledge of life and assuredness of line than those horses, or the lions, or the bison. And this was a recreation! “Everything fake” as our guide had told us at the beginning. My memory now was of great color though it was all in red ochre, charcoal or a film of white clay. The UN has apparently declared this the first Human Masterpiece. There are no photographs that do this artist, or these artists justice. The real cave must be incandescent. We’re glad it is preserved.

Back through the Park of Cevennes. Up and down, switchbacks, gorges, rushing waters, impossible cliffs. No wonder invading armies didn’t come through there.

Back at 7:30. 770 KM, about 480 miles round trip.

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