St Gaudens

Our misadventure in the forest, gave us a bonus visit to St Gaudens!  Superb!

A walk in the forest

Every trip seems to define itself in its own special way.  " Remember when we went to Vietnam and everyone we met knew someone we did?  Or remember when we went to Italy and we lucked out on every festival?"  I fear this will be the trip where we say "Remember how we were always lost in France?"  First of all lost in Beauvais and then on a simple forest walk we went round and round and round  Guess what though.... We had a great time!

One of the main reasons that we came to this area was to walk in the Pyrenees, But the weather has not been kind to us... not the temperatures so much as the visibility.  (8 - 19 degrees is great for walking) but rain and grey skies most days did not make for great mountain walking as the visibility and views were poor.  So we decided to pick up our French guide book (en francais of course) and set off for a walk in the forest instead of the mountains.  15 km ...  a good start-up walk... but we never made it.  We just could not make sense of the trails.  We tried to follow the blue markers, which only appeared once and were replaced by white, green and red ones - we found ourselves constantly walking in circles and arriving back where we started .... with great effort we managed about 6km and then gave up...........beautiful though!

Carcassone

A world of medieval cities, roman villas, plat de jour and French wine await us... 

Our first visit Carcassonne embodies all...A huge restored site, totally amazing .  Its not summer though so no crowds.Dull skies but warm... not to last.

Son de la vie rurale

Settling into rural life at Soubagac... 

Singing in the local choir, begins with a glass of wine or whiskey!

Off to the  local markets to sample the  fare!

Souby doo.......

Wowee!! Bought our fabulous Citoen 4 ... leased  really and it is FABULOSO!  

Train from Paris to Toulouse. Six very relaxing hours.  Navette to pick up our new car which we named Souby.  Amazing system, we lease for less than a hire car. It is only available to non European passport holders.  They sell them back to European passport holders at half the cost.   0 miles on speedo...and what a car... has everything, retractable roof, sat nav, bluetooth for everything.

An hour and a half later we are at our "New Home"  Soubagnac... and what a house!

Despedida Portugal

So at the end of our trip, the images in my mind are…….

Dry landscapes, ochre earth dotted with greenery.  Terraces of dry stone walls dividing thirsty fields of scattered vegetation.  Blue skies etched with sun or moon. 

Sumptuous villas with gardeners and infinity pools, tumble down buildings sprouting flowers and trees.  Donkeys and SUV’s on cobblestoned streets.  Castles and churches; statues and street art.

Splendour and decay.

Baked beans, all day breakfast, seabass and cataplana.

All manner of fish, eels and shellfish, chamomile tea leaves and oranges galore.  Empty beaches preparing for summer.  Speedboats streaking across aqua seas.  

The smell of grilling fish, lemons and cigarette smoke.

Friendly toothless smiles of people who try to understand us.  The shock of good cheap food and wine!

Breakfasts of fresh bread, figs, fruits and strong coffee.  Cool gardens with fountains and doves cooing. 

Chimneys, windmills and towers onthe skyline.  

Storks high atop messy nests feeding hungry open beaks. 

Endless Ryan Air Jets disgorging pale faced bodies.  Airports full of red burnt anxious faces waiting to weigh in.

As you can see... Portugal certainly had an impact on us!

Not to miss

Tavira…

Loule market

Mauvais Beauvais!

I’m cold, wet and tired! We are standing in the middle of a deserted industrial estate, its 10.30 at night and it’s frighteningly quiet.  The only sound, the click of a rotating advertising sign. It’s like the bomb has gone off and everyone has disappeared.  “What can we do?  Where can we go?”

I shrug my shoulders, grab my bags and start walking towards some distant lights.  I hear my husband groaning behind me.  “What was he thinking?”  He mutters over and over again.  “Leaving us here in the middle of nowhere.”  The thought flashes through my head “More like what were we thinking, to get off the bus in the middle of nowhere?

The flashing, red light turns out to be the Mercure Hotel.  “Excusez-moi madame notre bus…” In my poor French, I stumble through the explanation that we are looking for our hotel, the Camponile.  She looks at me as if I am mad to be walking around in the rain with a heap of luggage in the middle of the night.  “Come to think of it, I agree with her!”

We sheepishly follow her directions, left at the parking lot and straight ahead.  When the pavement runs out and we are dragging our cases through knee length grass, it dawns on me that maybe I didn’t understand her as well as I thought I did, and that we are going the wrong way!

It is now over two hours since our RyanAir plane landed with a fanfare and loud cheers from the punters.  Faro heat, freshly Barbequed fish, cool wine and aquamarine beaches seem a long way away.

The Paris air strike had suddenly given us five extra days in Portugal.  Our Brittany trip disappeared before our eyes and the hotels we had so carefully chosen were now just a dubious expense on our insurance claim.

We had truly lucked out though, on our hotel bookings in Portugal, scoring a beautiful traditional hotel in Tavira.  We were welcomed warmly by the great granddaughter of the original owner who lead us through the luscious gardens to our private room…“Amor Perfeito”, and it was!

Our morning started with breakfast eating fresh fruits collected from the garden; figs, strawberries and peaches, followed by croissants, fresh breads and home made jams.  Ah! So full couldn’t eat another thing and then came eggs and prosciutto, cheeses and hams!

After all that we just had to walk.  As always in Portugal there is amazing street art, a castle and an abundance of characters sitting chatting animatedly… but about what?  We never know.  When the 30^o heat finally gets to us, we stroll back for a swim by the pool and a lazy read before drifting off for an afternoon snooze.  Bliss!  

Typically the evenings take us on a stroll through the town to a local restaurant where a smiling waiter leads us over to an overflowing fish counter.  A fine selection of Sea Bass, Sardinhas, Mackerel and countless other fish tucked into layers of ice.  We point at what we want and the chef pounces on the fish and it’s off to the BBQ.

By the time we are seated couvert has arrived– fresh bread, olives, cheese and my favourite a sardine pate.  Oh the memory of it!

But here we are now cold, wet and lost in a Parisienne industrial estate.  It had seemed such a good idea when we had lost our hotel booking in central Paris, to book one near Beauvais (Ryanairs’) airport 80km outside of Paris.  We calculated that we could enjoy a French dinner and then head out for Paris early the next morning.

The airport hotel advertised a regular shuttle so we thought it was a great solution.  After an hour waiting for the shuttle in the rain and I’m thinking differently.

“Oh well, nothing for it but to put on a cheerful front and do what?”  I know I’ll flag down a car… French phrases flash through my brain “Au Secours!", maybe a bit strong, "Aidez-moi", a bit pathetic, but it will do.  I leap out into the road, problem is there is no traffic.  We wait and wait with tummy rumbles and increasing anxiety. Ah ha! A car to the rescue, but no, it slows and seeing a mad Australian waving her arms drives on. 

Eventually after several cars have passed, a car slows down cautiously and then stops.  It’s a young couple, in an old Citroen.  They listen anxiously to my story and then assure me the hotel is just behind us, only five minutes away and then they roar off leaving us once more to face the cold, wet, dark night.

We turn and with aching arms drag our bags through the long grass once more.  Flashing lights and a car horn, we turn startled to see the young couple waving to us.  “Venez! Venez! Venez Vite!

Oh the relief.  “Merci, Merci beaucoup, vous êtes très aimable.”

A ten minute drive brings us back to the exact spot where the bus driver had dropped us.  We had been walking with heavy bags for well over an hour.  My quip about it being cheaper than going to the gym did not go down well. 

But where to now?  A swift turn down a small unlit driveway leads us between two huge industrial buildings and to the hotel.  With much shaking of hands and air kissing we bid farewell to our rescuers.  Its midnight but our thoughts and senses are awash with images and smells of freshly cooked steak, red wine and warm baguette.

Our receptionist is suspicious and frosty.  A key is plucked briskly from the board and clicked in front of us.  My question “Avez-vous quelque chose à manger?” is treated with derision.  So, nothing to eat then.  With a brief nod in the direction of the Mercure hotel she tells there will be food there. 

Ahead of me is the hotel block.  For a minute I could be back in Australia.  The two storey hotel is seventies' style, complete with a veranda which streaks in front of the rooms.  I look back across the car park and the reception lights are now switched off.  We watch, as with the roar of the engine, the receptionist takes off.  Just us, hunger and fatigue then.

We haul our bags up to the second level. I’m so exhausted and hungry I don’t even peep into other people’s rooms as we trundle by.

Five minutes later we set off through the long grass once more towards the Mercure.  As we get closer we can see flashing lights of a steak restaurant and in the far distance, KFC and Macdonald’s.  I’m feeling cheerier by the minute. 

“Bonsoir”, I beam.  I can see from the expression that there is No bonsoir for us.  “Non, non, nous sommes fermés.  Non, il n'ya pas de restaurant ouvert ici".  Ha! So no restaurants open at 12.30 am.  What is the world coming to?  I find myself pleading, “Peut-être un petit morceau de pain”  …just a little bread perhaps.  “Mais non, je n'ai rien!”

So we walk back through the long grass.  My joke about the gym falls flat for a second time but this time is accompanied by a kind of strangled growl.  I fall silent.

Back at the hotel, I search through my cavernous handbag and find a few crumbled biscuits which we share miserably.  “Oh well tomorrow Paris” I say.

I’m awake, it’s still dark, or is it.  I realise Roger has put down the shutters to block out the bright streetlight that was glaring into our eyes.  I stumble to find the time.  8.45! Breakfast finishes at 9.00!  We are up and out and looking blearily at bread, croissant and coffee in minutes.  I pick up the shuttle timetable, but it doesn’t make sense.  I check with the receptionist.  “La prochaine navette est à cinq heures cet après-midi.”she says.  “You mean to say there isn’t another shuttle until five o’clock this afternoon?”  I’m close to tears, exhaustion is taking over.

She begins a long tortuous explanation that we can walk to the town and then get a shuttle to the airport.  How long a walk? …”Peut-être 30 minutes!”  A thirty minute walk with all our luggage.  My arms are already sore from yesterday’s debacle.  My question “What about a cab?” receives a Gallic shrug.  “Just book us a cab to the airport.” I say assertively.  

Our cab arrives, in minutes.  The driver cheerfully loads our luggage, picks up a Canadian couple from another hotel and within 15 minutes we are at the airport.  8 Euros, the same price as the wretched shuttle we caught yesterday!  “C’est la vie” I guess.

We hop straight onto the Navette and into Paris… but that is another story!

Luz by night

I'd forgotten about the wonderful sea bass and potatoes and how good does the villa look at night?

Luz - where are the tourists?

A chance to enjoy Luz before the tourists.

Go Oz exports!

How does that work?

Stairs to nowhere..... derelict houses, next to gleaming white renovated houses... What happened to all the people...Did they just abandon the houses?

Up up the houses climb... and so did we up to the ancient castle of Alejur! 

Street art of Portugal

Just love the sculptures in streets, on roundabouts... almost anywhere really.  There is something gloriously ludicrous about many of them!

Others have a lovely humanity... reminds me of Grand Junction in Colorado.

Not much to sell and no one to buy but who cares!

Going for a drive we came upon this market.  Wonderful characters, all chatting and playing music.  I think the stalls were just an opportunity sit and gossip.  Love how the men wear their caps!

At one point a car hit a cyclist on the road nearby.  The whole market rushed to watch and then presumably spent the rest of the day dissecting what had happened.

Lazy days

First days just spent walking into Luz and Bergau, chilling out and reading by the pool, with the odd glass of champers!.... a couple of chilly dips in the pool Brrrrrrrrr!

Portugal at last!

Arrive at 11.30pm pick up car and we are off..... We arrive @ Belle Rive @ 2.00am. So glad to be there, we just sleep! 

Roissey en France

French breakfast and a walk in the old town.  Just love the ambiance, churches, old men chatting and the swish of a broom keeping the streets clean

Back on the train, which was held up for about an hour... french guys comments, suicide, terrorist or just a breakdown, happens all the time!

Interesting experience at the left luggage, no information anywhere in any language, finally worked it out and then it was off to lunch... of course, its Paris!




Train out to Beauvais, our first experience with Ryan Air.  I managed to get my luggage trapped in the gate and Roger got left behind... par for the course I guess.  Both tumbled out at the airport ready for an uneventful flight!!

Vivre La France!

French streets have an atmosphere all of their own. 

Arrive in Paris @ 6.00am a cool 8 degrees

Catch Black B and B bus to hotel to be met by unfriendly black guy on reception who states "pas une livraissons a vous"  Au revoir to my sim card I think

We find our way to our hot, tiny, but clean room 

Train into Paris

Every nationality

The message is everywhere the North is dangerous, poor, desperate

Run down buildings, some occupied, graffiti everywhere

Montmartre appears and then we are in Gare du Nord

Men stand aimlessly, dangerously around

Clasp bag closer.

Parisien Petit Dejeuner

Baguette at last

Crosssant confiture and noisette…. Eh bien!

Rue St Denis

Full of suprises

Indian Thali, menu Chinois, cheap cheap cheap

Glitzy shops abound with sequins

Prostitutes stand poised

Wrinkled faces,sagging bodies and augmented breasts accost men as they pass 

Men and their prostitutes scanning the crowds eagerly for business.

A smart chappie emerges from a secluded stairwell giving the smiling but aged prostitute a cheery pat on the bum.

Glitzy school crossing lady poses proudly

We emerge at an amazing but nameless arch

Refugees, poor and dirty, slick business men and women mingle in the melee.

Formule lunch

Bifstek and chicken
Passing crowds entertain us!

Fruits and veggies gleam

Restaurants buzz

Haute couture abounds
Men lie sleeping in their own filth

Grouchy ticket attendant tries to sent us off to the suburbs... ha! ha! worked that one out!  Leap on Roissy bus which roars through town and back to hotel

Asleep by 7.00!

Bon Appetit, Bon Soir et Bon Voyage!

As we got on plane saw..Gateway to heaven... or First class!  Not for us though!

Left Sydney on a beautiful day, Really can't believe we're going!.... 

Wow the map makes it look a long way.

Thank goodness for flatbeds and yummy food!

It's not all Apples!

We’re off!  After all that has happened I can’t believe that we are really going.  For once we are organised or so I think.  I just have to back up my computer and set up new external hard drives to take with me.  I’ve bought a very swish time capsule for home. Caleb pops around to see if there is anything he can do to help out.  “Just fix up the hard drive for me” I say. 

Four hours later he’s still there, trying to set it up.  Meanwhile a wild storm has rushed through the garden undoing all of the hard work of yesterday!  Branches and leaves are strewn everywhere.  Too late to worry about it now!

Julie our lovely neighbour, is to pick us up at 2.00.  At 12.00 I’m anxious that Caleb is still trying to get the hard drive to work.  I’ll take it back I say.  In Mac 1, the guy is supercilious.  “Sorry, not our product you have to go back to Apple.”  “No” I say “By law I bought it from here and I have 7 days to bring it back.” 

“Its been opened” he says. 

“Well, how would I know it doesn’t work if I didn’t open it?” I say.

“Well all I can do is send it back to Apple.  It takes about ten days.  Then they’ll send it off for repair.  It can take up to three months.”

“That’s no good to me.” I say “I am leaving Australia in a couple of hours and I won’t be back for three months.”

“Sorry that’s it. Take it or leave it.”

“No” I say “That’s not it.  I’m entitled to a full refund.”  He turns his back on me.  I get my phone and loudly describe the situation to my lawyer (Roger).  “Yes” I repeat, “So I am entitled to a full refund.” 

I go back to the guy.  He has been listening.  “OK” he says “We’ll just check whether there is anything wrong with it.  “What’s your password?”  I put in the password… it doesn’t work.  His mouth curls in derision.  You can see ‘Stupid greyhair’ written all over his face.  I get back onto the phone this time to my “technician” (Caleb). “I set the password back to default.” says Caleb.  I tell the guy again.  He says “Look you don’t even know your password, so how would you know how to set this thing up.”

I am livid.  I need to get out of there.  I need to return this and go.

I call my lawyer again, he regurgitates all that he has learnt from “Checkout”.   “You are entitled to a full refund.” I repeat the advice loudly to the whole shop.  “So you suggest I call the police” I say.  “Ok, will do.’   So just to get this clear shop policy does not replace the law and I am entitled to a full refund.” 

I go over and tell the assistant “This is my advice and it’s what I’m going to do.”  He doesn’t need me to repeat, he along with the whole shop, has been listening.  People are starting to ask, “So if I have a problem you can’t help me, and I might be without my computer for 3 months.” 

The crowd is coming with me and the assistant feels the pressure.  “Ok” he says.  “I’ll give you a refund.”

“Yeah!” 

But then he adds, “But there’ll be a $30 restocking fee.” 

“Restocking fee!”  The whole shop bunkers down at my outrage.  “No way” I say ”I am entitled by law to a full refund.”

“I don’t care how many times you say that” he says,” You have to pay $30.”  I reach for my phone.  “OK, OK,” he says, “I’ll give you a full refund, but only because I want to get you out of my shop.”

“No” I say “You’re giving it to me because it is the law.”  He gives me the refund slip and growls, “and don’t come back!”

I can’t be bothered to deal with that one right now.

I’m off flying down the road.  A quick call to Julie “Can she pick us up an hour later?”  After all the weeks of beautiful weather, the rain is tumbling down and the wind howling. 

Home…….final quick pack of bags………drop Caleb off and I am standing in the rain waiting outside Balgowlah Boys for Julie and Roger to pick me up.

And then, we are in the Ibis’ world of silence, watching planes go silently by.  Dinner, wine, sleep and we are ready for our new adventure.