Chapter 12elve: On to Gascony

On to Gascony

Toulouse, after Paris, Lyon, and Marseille, is the fourth largest city in France. Except for a lunch break on the drive from Montpellier we did not spend any time in Toulouse.

City Hall

While there is much to see here, alas, we were on a mission to get to small town Gascony and into the country of the Auquitane.

Toulouse, the capital city of Haute Garonne, is Europe's largest Aerospace centre, the hub of the aviation industry for France and the rest of the EU. 

The city has a fascinating history for those who want to delve into it. What stood out for me in several reads was the widespread power of the Bishops of Toulouse, in a diocese that has included most of southwest France since pre-Roman times.

The Garonne River winds its way past Toulouse. There are lots of canals in parts of the city, the most significant of which is the Canal du Midi, that links the Atlantic Ocean at Bordeaux, through Toulouse to the Mediterranean Sea.

One thing that really stands out in the architecture of this region is the use of red brick. North to Montauban and east to Albi, in all types of construction from barns and bridges to houses and cathedrals, red brick is overwhelmingly the dominant building material.

the yellow fields of rapeseed are in full bloom, soon to be harvested for oil

Our major destination after Montpellier is Biarritz where we will stay at a Chambre d' Hotes for three days. It would seem that the logical road-trip would be over the Pyrenees, through Pau, then down to the coast. However, I have kind of had enough of twisty mountain roads. As stunning as that drive would be, I wanted a break from the peaks and valleys and hairpin turns.

So we drove north on the toll road for a while, then cut west into farm country. 

In Gers, I took off for Condom. 

The countryside was fabulous with rolling fields of green, patched and capped with crops of brilliant yellow rapeseed. This plant, known in Canada as Canola oil, is used not only as a consumable vegetable oil, but also as a biofuel. (more on this when the blog takes you to Normandy).

Cultivated fields gave way to vineyards as we approached our destination. Gascony wines may not be universally known, but they are delightful. We stocked up.

Our accommodation was right off the map, unidentified road on our GPS display - just a line that we were driving along. Not to worry,  the GPS coordinates of latitude & longitude - degrees, minutes, and seconds - that were emailed to us, were way better than what Marco Polo, Christopher Columbus, and Roald Amundsen had in their day. We arrived at a big old farm, like a bastide, creatively restored and updated. Our room was decorated in a Kathryn Hepburn theme, right out of Meilleur Gites et Jardins. 
(sorry, was too tired to take pictures).

Not a word of English was spoken, so I employed my version of French, which has been improving daily. Here in the remote region of Gascony, a stretch from Condom, I was accused of being either Swiss or Quebecois. This, they accepted. I did not prevaricate.

Hunger approached and we were directed to a fine restaurant in the city for the evening meal an hour before sunset and returned to our quarters in the dark.

The seldom travelled road (above), winding along the Petite Baise River is magical in the light of a sunny day, but spooky black at night when we drove back on it with faith in the great gift of our geostationary satellite positioning system.

Normandy is known for its calvados, the Charente for its cognac, and Gascony is known for its armagnac. We did not buy a bottle, but we did purchase the prunes soaked in armagnac. My gosh, what a taste. Like honey to a bear, we'd scratch the bark off a tree for it - a wonderful end-of-the-day treat.

Before leaving this warm pre-summer countryside - the land of Alexandre Dumas and his Three Musketeers, incidentally - we toured the 13th Century fortified village of Larressingle, one the one hundred or so Plus Belles Villages de France.

The castle, had much to delight the eye of the new world tourist: stone bridge, arrow slits, moat, embattlements, gothic arches, towers, embankments, and crenellations; and ghosts for the wandering mind.

In the medieval church stands Saint Sigismond, considered to be one of the first Christian Kings. He was martyred in 504. 

"He strikes a rather gay pose." (Joanne)

We piqueniqued  here with the usual baguette, pâté, fromage, cornichons, fruits frais, et naturellement, un petit verre de vin, just pumped that morning into our travelling carafe (emptied water bottle) at the Condom Co-op Cave. 

The last hour or so of our drive to the coast was through some decidedly dull and boring countryside. But we were rewarded by the cheerful, friendly greeting of our host when we arrived in Biarritz. Little did we know, that not only would there be more adventures in store for us during the next three days, but we would have a new special friendship develop while there.

Dinner Recommendation: Hotel Continental, Condom

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