Below is the blog I wrote at the end of last month but was unable to post from my phone.
Hello readers. I am writing this from Narbonne railway station in the south of France, as we wait for our train back to Paris – a five hour journey (at 280 – 300km/hr.).
As seems normal when travelling overseas, there can be a challenge a day. Today’s seemed overwhelming.
We had planned to take a bus from the village in which we were staying (Le Somail), to Narbonne train station. We had a bus timetable and had worked out that a 9.40 AM bus would get us there in time. But, we hadn’t noticed the fine print that said ‘No Bus Service on Sundays.’ Today is Sunday.
We found a number for a taxi, rang it, but there was no answer – after several tries. By now I was starting to feel stranded and anxious
We HAD to catch our train to Paris. It had been pre-booked and was fully booked.
We tried communicating with the manager of our apartment who had been helpful with a couple of small requests. He gave us a number to ring for help, but this number was not answering either.
So my problem-solving Leigh went downstairs into the already searing heat, to find a solution. This was a small, sleepy village.
Ten minutes later he returned, saying ‘Grab your bag and follow me.’ He carried our two main (heavy) cases down two flights of narrow spiral stairs, to the street below.
He had found a local man, Jaques, who offered to drive us to Narbonne – half an hour away. We had had previous dealings with him in the village, and had found him to be affable and helpful.
It was such a relief. We were going to get to the station in good time. His English was limited but we managed to have some pleasant conversation as we motored along.
When we got into his little 3 seater van it was almost unbearably hot. He asked would we like the air conditioner on. ‘Oh Oui Merci’ we said.
None of the cafes or restaurants in Le Somail had air-conditioning. Nor had our two berth boat that we had hired for a week to travel the Midi Canal. With every day for a week having been over 35 degrees, we were dying for some cool comfort.
When we arrived at the train station, we offered Jacques twenty euros.
‘No, no, no,’ he said. ‘My pleasure.’
We have found a lot of kindness from the French. A few have been off-handed, and only one woman in an ‘Information’ booth at the Metro station, obnoxious.
Here is just a little aside. As we were driving here this morning, I noticed, while passing through an ancient village, a large and magnificent old building that had once been a post office – probably for hundreds of years. It made me think of what important places post offices had been in the past, right up to probably fifteen years or so ago. Letters were the way people communicated.
Paper, envelopes, stamps, news of home, love letters, business communications. Thousands upon thousands criss-crossing daily. They were establishments of frenetic activity. Today they are quiet, slow edifices – more like shops – selling items that can mostly be bought elsewhere.
Our week on the water was a bit of a trial. The canal locks were not easy to navigate – usually operated by the two of us in blazing heat. Several times I thought I may have been on the verge of heat-stroke.
Each one seemed a little different, and to be honest I found them terrifying, especially on the return trip, when Leigh would drive our little boat into this cavernous, echoey, huge, deep, tank-like structure, hurl me ropes that I had to tie to bollards to secure the boat, and then wait while tumultuous monster water came rushing in to raise the boat up to where I was waiting to untie the ropes and jump back on board before exiting when the gates opened.
Each afternoon, we’d look for a shady tree to moor beside. Leigh would pull up next to the reedy bank, I’d jump off with a rope and look for something to tie it to, and secure the boat. Leigh would leap off (quite often across water as the boat would still be drifting) with another rope, pegs and a hammer, and secure us. He’d drop the gangplank, we’d put ashore with our table and chairs, and crack our icy cold beers from the fridge. A barbecue had come with the boat, and we’d cook in the cool of the evening. For three nights, we stopped at beautiful old villages and went out to dinner.
Back in Paris, we are still enduring the same heat-wave that has engulfed the city since we’ve been in the country.
Our tiny apartment (compared with our luxurious one in Le Somail) at least has air-conditioning. So few of the cafes and restaurants have it, which we have found amazing.
Some of my observations of France –
The Midi Canal, two hundred kilometres or so long, has hardly any birds. Locals told us it’s because the government cut down most of the native trees! Very strange compared with any of our waterways in Australia, and kind of lonely without them.
Where we have been staying in Paris – in Marais and St. Germain, the streets are mostly lined with cafes, bars and restaurants. People are sitting on the sidewalks in their thousands, in searing heat (albeit under umbrellas) seemingly oblivious to the weather. They are smoking at tables and while walking along the streets, especially the women. Many, if not the majority of older French women have these lithe, willowy figures. They are well-dressed, elegant and have tanned leathery skin. It is a French look. And as we, ourselves, sit at the cafes, I notice the aquiline French noses.
This morning we set out on foot. I wanted to go to Le Seine, to see what lay along its banks. High end clothing shops, galleries, the odd classy restaurant was what we found. I was happy to see something other than cafes.
It was hot, so hot. We walked for three hours, then found a bar that looked welcoming. We walked through the door and wallah! – air-conditioning! What a relief.
We sat for a couple of hours in the delicious, cool place, had a couple of icy cold beers and a meal.
We are now back in our apartment but will probably go out again when it gets cooler.
Tomorrow we head north – to Villers Bretonneux, for three days, then to London and from there South Africa.
Will tell more of that leg of our journey in my next blog.
We know it has been bitterly cold at home, so hope you are all keeping warm and cosy – while we swelter.
Take care,
Warmly,
Sue
Since writing the above we have had so many more exciting experiences – in the north of France, London and most amazing of all, South Africa. We are home now and what lies ahead is the pleasant task of going through the hundreds of photos, deleting a lot and picking the best.
I will share more of our travels at the end of the month.
I have noticed a large upward blip in my German readership. So, hello whoever you are. Nice to know my blogs are reaching across the world. You are always welcome to say hello in the Comments option below.
All for now,
Take care,
Sue
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