One could be forgiven for thinking its late September instead of early August judging by the weather over the past week. Grey skies, below average degrees and quite a bit of rain doth not make for a balmy summer. The water temperature in the pool is warmer than the outside one, just as well as I had to re-glue the protective liner patches that brother Simon put on the week before – I did tell him it wasn’t an easy job but hey. Still, at least the howling Cers wind that is currently causing strife has stopped any algae from wanting to bed down. We are unreliably told by the Météo that this weather system is just a blip on the radar and the coming weeks will be all sunshine and smiles.
Seeing as how there hasn’t been much to do now that the pool is sorted and the potager is full of ready pickings, Denis decided we needed to get out of town so to speak. Despite having lived in Rouffiac d’Aude for almost 3 years, I’ve rarely had the chance to see what else lies beyond the county limits other than a few city excursions. As I mentioned in the previous week’s blog, France pretty much has everything you could want as a holiday destination and our little bit of the South-West is a bit of a gem in that department. A couple of hours drive or so will take you West up into the Pyreenes Mountain range and a similar pootle East will have you basking on the Mediterranean beaches. So we did both. Along with D’s niece Stephanie and her other half, Rashid, we took a day out by the sea on Thursday accompanied by Yogi Bear as he hates being left these days (my younger brother Moth kindly offered to look after the remaining woofers) and we felt he would be good company for Stephanie and Rashid’s somewhat overweight Chihuahua, Xena. After a light picnic lunch ( I say this facestiously as there is no such thing as a light meal in D’s family) in Gruissan, a hop from the city of Narbonne we made our way down to an almost deserted beach a few minutes away. I can’t say we had perfect weather conditions for lazing on the sand – the wind played havoc with our towels for a start and any deep intake of breath at the beauty of your surroundings meant inhaling large quantities of sand but we couldn’t have had a more relaxing time. Whilst Rashid went snorkelling for couteaux or razor clams, D and Yogi ambled along the shore and dipped their toes into the Med. It was a little Bear’s heaven being at one with the outdoors and his most favourite outdoors man although Xena wasn’t overly thrilled to have his wagging tail in her face. We finished the great afternoon out at a nearby seafood restaurant eating raw cockles, mussels and oysters – okay I’ve yet to be convinced on the latter but the rest was delicious especially when washed downed with a chilled bottle of white wine. Beach destination, Check.
Lazing by the sea done, the four of us decided to head West a couple of days later – to Andorra. Andorra is a principality bordered by France and Spain on the Eastern side of the Pyreenes. It’s a tiny country, about 460 square kilometres, and best known for the fact that since it isn’t part of the EU, it’s duty-free. As soon as you make your way through the border control, you are greeted by a sort of gargantuan monolith of hypermarkets, restaurants and price popping billboards – if it’s tax-free, we have it kind of thing. I have to admit that whilst it was great fun looking at all the bargains you could buy that you didn’t need even if I wasn’t quite dressed for alpine temperatures – my fingers were so cold I couldn’t have got my debit card out of my wallet if I wanted to, the best part of the whole trip was the scenery beyond. Instead of taking the autoroute, Rashid took the high roads. Literally. Weaving up into the vast mountain range, the landscape is covered in forest and the occasional ski lift. The views are breath-taking although I could put that down to my fear of heights too – there was a reason why I didn’t look down and it wasn’t just because of the huge eagles gliding across the blue sky above us. Mountains. Check.
As usual, we finished the week chez Abraham last night with lashings of good food, gorgeous wine and great friends. Some of us were rather woozy already after all that altitude but still found the energy for a bit of a boogie. I blame Stephanie for that as she insisted we stop at some thermal baths on the way back down the mountains so that I could experience the pleasure of hot spring water on my tootsies – definitely put the dance into my digits. I couldn’t resist another purchase either as Abraham had, as has become a feature of his Saturday night soirees, an artisan of a magician with metal – old gas canisters to be precise. Martin makes masterpiece lamps and lighting out of them and yes they were pretty pricey but the workmanship was so beautiful I bought one of the smaller ones. Back home. Check…
“Life is made for good friends and great adventures” (Unknown)
Widow plus woofs 