You would think on a rainy day in Europe I could watch the French Open on TV. No, sorry cannot be done, not even on my PC. Pooh.....
So, I will cook a yummy slow bolognaise and turn it into Lasagne for dinner tonight.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
A Walk in Bellano
As well as all the trucks in Bellano, we took a walk around the lake area and came across this little family......
Roadworks
Can't seem to avoid road works where ever you go, and considering we don't have a car, it really shouldn't bother us. In theory....
Strata statale 36 is a major road in Lombardia. The road begins in Milan and passes through such cities as Monza, Lecco and runs further north and includes the famous Spluga pass to the Swiss border. They have been upgrading this major through fare with tunnels under Lecco and tunnels in Monza, generally making it a super strata.
At present, they are upgrading the section that runs inland from Lake Como which has created a detour for all traffic through the coastal towns along Lake Como, ours being one of them. The strata has a considerable traffic flow of more than 100,000 vehicles a day, of which, more than 10% are heavy vehicles. Not sure about the little vehicles, but I am sure that all the trucks are being diverted through our town and its tiny little roads. We went to Bellano, one town up the train line and it was chaos. All the usual local traffic was being stopped, so the convoys of trucks could pass through.
John stood on the balcony the other day and counted the passing parade.....15 mins......55 trucks.....and this goes on day AND night, so we found out last night, with some sounding their horn as they round the corner
Strata statale 36 is a major road in Lombardia. The road begins in Milan and passes through such cities as Monza, Lecco and runs further north and includes the famous Spluga pass to the Swiss border. They have been upgrading this major through fare with tunnels under Lecco and tunnels in Monza, generally making it a super strata.
At present, they are upgrading the section that runs inland from Lake Como which has created a detour for all traffic through the coastal towns along Lake Como, ours being one of them. The strata has a considerable traffic flow of more than 100,000 vehicles a day, of which, more than 10% are heavy vehicles. Not sure about the little vehicles, but I am sure that all the trucks are being diverted through our town and its tiny little roads. We went to Bellano, one town up the train line and it was chaos. All the usual local traffic was being stopped, so the convoys of trucks could pass through.
John stood on the balcony the other day and counted the passing parade.....15 mins......55 trucks.....and this goes on day AND night, so we found out last night, with some sounding their horn as they round the corner
Monday, May 27, 2013
Cost of living
A bit of flour, a bit of water, maybe a bit yeast. Not complicated and yet for a packet of bread like this in Beaumaris you can pay up to $15. Check out the price at the local bakery, Il Forno di Fiumelatte
John runs down each morning to get the 'prima colazione' No toast and vegemite here, either. He also gets his daily Italian lesson from the helpful Signorina, who speaks perfectly good English, but plays his little game....
Lake Como
This will be dull reading for a lot of you because you read it all 2 years ago, but when you look at the photos you understand why we're back.
We had our 30th wedding anniversary here in 2011 and the weather was superb. We get here this year and there's snow on the mountains with a cold wind. Our next door neighbours are English and said they had had 2 sunny days so far, and when they left to come here it had been freezing and hailing. Seems weather is weird all over.
This is downtime on our holiday, we sit in the sun (actually shining today), read books, catch up on walking, and visit the Van. The van visits Varenna, 20 mins walk from our apartment in Fiumelatte, twice a week. It is a portable deli with some of the yummiest local produce. All the locals line up to purchase their goodies and look at us strangely, we don't fit in. Soon enough it's my turn and I babble my order in Italian and surprisingly get what I want, in fact, get what I think you would like too.
French meets Italian for dinner on the terrace. The Camembert we bought in Bordeaux was not ripe at the time so have tansported it to Fiumelatte along with a tin of Rillettes de Canard au Piment d'Espelette from the Toulouse Markets, one of John's impulse buys.
Altogether, a feast.............
Transition to Lake Como
Breakfast at Hotel Berna would have to be the best hotel breakfast I have ever had. The variety, the amount, the freshness of the produce and the promptness with which things are replenished are second to none. One does not hurry a breakfast like this unless absolutely necessary.
When we here 2 years ago, there was one particular attendant who always made sure I had fresh cold milk to take back to my room for afternoon coffee. Once he even came running after me cause I had forgotten it.
He appeared to genuinely happy to see us back, even patted my arm, which is quite familiar for one in his position. When we left the breakfast room, he extended his hand to shake and cover, a warm and friendly gesture and wished us good journey. We said Ciao, see you in 2 weeks time.....Lucky us!
Another example of 'tipico degli italiani' we received an email from Lake Como Holiday Homes telling us that there would be no internet access for the 2 weeks we would be in Fiumelatte, as somebody else had booked it. Well, you can imagine my reaction....I shot off an email telling them what I thought and that they should probably reconsider, or words to that effect.
Reply 12 hours later to apologise for the confusion.
When we here 2 years ago, there was one particular attendant who always made sure I had fresh cold milk to take back to my room for afternoon coffee. Once he even came running after me cause I had forgotten it.
He appeared to genuinely happy to see us back, even patted my arm, which is quite familiar for one in his position. When we left the breakfast room, he extended his hand to shake and cover, a warm and friendly gesture and wished us good journey. We said Ciao, see you in 2 weeks time.....Lucky us!
Another example of 'tipico degli italiani' we received an email from Lake Como Holiday Homes telling us that there would be no internet access for the 2 weeks we would be in Fiumelatte, as somebody else had booked it. Well, you can imagine my reaction....I shot off an email telling them what I thought and that they should probably reconsider, or words to that effect.
Reply 12 hours later to apologise for the confusion.
Milano
We arrive and it's still raining, but not far to walk to the Hotel Berna.
Had a bit of a laugh on the train from Ventimiglia to Milan, John was studying his Italian only to look across the aisle and see an Italian, studying his English. The Italian looked at him, realised the joke and laughed. Strange things indeed....
As we walk through the door, there is a happy smiling face to greet us. Welcome back, our room is ready, have a nice stay. Get to the room and this is what we see.
Funny buggers, I had requested Goose pillows cause I could, so they covered the whole bed with more pillows than anyone would need, biscuits, chocolates and nibbles.
Off out to explore. There is an area called The Brera in Milan about a 20 min walk from Berna which houses the Academy of Fine Arts and the Art Gallery. It has a somewhat bohemian feel to it, similar to Montmatre in Paris. It also houses lots of bars and restaurants, good night life in general.
So we look for a place to have a drink, find a corner bar with seats outside, sit down, order the vino, only to be told we must eat as well because Happy Hour is over! Italians have some silly rules.....so we get up and walk away, not ready to eat yet.
It took some time, but we walked past the Tennants Scottish Pub (enough is enough) to find a little bar in a cobbled stone street, where we had a glass and when time to came to pay, the waiter bought the bottle out and poured the remaining bit into our glasses, no charge, cause what else was he going to do with it. Nice touch.
On for dinner, we choose an outside eating area where we in close proximity to a trio of Netherlandy type people. Pasta was good and the wine was a thinnish but flavourful one from the Valtellina area. One of the trio asked John if it was any good, so he gave him a taste. He proceeded to order something else....
On my return from the toilet, I found John deep in conversation with our table neighbours.
It turns out they were Norwegian and were on a Prison Conference. One was the big boss, who had worked in Manchester for a couple of years and couldn't believe John had found the best Guinness ever in Nice. One was a rehabilitator and the other was an advisor. They were very interesting to chat with and a lot of fun.
The advisor is a writer and according to his mates is apparently good at making up stories. They play the same games as John and I do...you pick a couple or a group and make up a story about them, as in, guess what nationality they are, what they do, all that sort if thing. After a little while chatting, the advisor told us this is what he had been doing with us. He could not have been further from the truth.....He thought we were English, me from Bournmouth and John from Newcastle, and we were on our second date. I asked him what led him to his conclusion and he said it was they way I looked into John's eyes. We didn't tell him we'd been married for 32 years, didn't want to make him feel too bad.
We all thought it was hugely funny and his friends ribbed him mercilessly that he had got it so wrong!
The waiter arrived with the mandatory Limoncello as we asked for the bill, and returned to give the prison group their Limoncello, whereupon, he refilled our glasses!
We walked off home having had an entertaining night.
Nearly home, we were accosted by a fellow from Kuwait, who needed 20 euros so he could be in contact with his family to let them know he was alright. If we gave him our email address he would ensure the money would be repaid.
We hadn't had that many Limoncellos..............
Had a bit of a laugh on the train from Ventimiglia to Milan, John was studying his Italian only to look across the aisle and see an Italian, studying his English. The Italian looked at him, realised the joke and laughed. Strange things indeed....
As we walk through the door, there is a happy smiling face to greet us. Welcome back, our room is ready, have a nice stay. Get to the room and this is what we see.
Funny buggers, I had requested Goose pillows cause I could, so they covered the whole bed with more pillows than anyone would need, biscuits, chocolates and nibbles.
Off out to explore. There is an area called The Brera in Milan about a 20 min walk from Berna which houses the Academy of Fine Arts and the Art Gallery. It has a somewhat bohemian feel to it, similar to Montmatre in Paris. It also houses lots of bars and restaurants, good night life in general.
So we look for a place to have a drink, find a corner bar with seats outside, sit down, order the vino, only to be told we must eat as well because Happy Hour is over! Italians have some silly rules.....so we get up and walk away, not ready to eat yet.
It took some time, but we walked past the Tennants Scottish Pub (enough is enough) to find a little bar in a cobbled stone street, where we had a glass and when time to came to pay, the waiter bought the bottle out and poured the remaining bit into our glasses, no charge, cause what else was he going to do with it. Nice touch.
On for dinner, we choose an outside eating area where we in close proximity to a trio of Netherlandy type people. Pasta was good and the wine was a thinnish but flavourful one from the Valtellina area. One of the trio asked John if it was any good, so he gave him a taste. He proceeded to order something else....
On my return from the toilet, I found John deep in conversation with our table neighbours.
It turns out they were Norwegian and were on a Prison Conference. One was the big boss, who had worked in Manchester for a couple of years and couldn't believe John had found the best Guinness ever in Nice. One was a rehabilitator and the other was an advisor. They were very interesting to chat with and a lot of fun.
The advisor is a writer and according to his mates is apparently good at making up stories. They play the same games as John and I do...you pick a couple or a group and make up a story about them, as in, guess what nationality they are, what they do, all that sort if thing. After a little while chatting, the advisor told us this is what he had been doing with us. He could not have been further from the truth.....He thought we were English, me from Bournmouth and John from Newcastle, and we were on our second date. I asked him what led him to his conclusion and he said it was they way I looked into John's eyes. We didn't tell him we'd been married for 32 years, didn't want to make him feel too bad.
We all thought it was hugely funny and his friends ribbed him mercilessly that he had got it so wrong!
The waiter arrived with the mandatory Limoncello as we asked for the bill, and returned to give the prison group their Limoncello, whereupon, he refilled our glasses!
We walked off home having had an entertaining night.
Nearly home, we were accosted by a fellow from Kuwait, who needed 20 euros so he could be in contact with his family to let them know he was alright. If we gave him our email address he would ensure the money would be repaid.
We hadn't had that many Limoncellos..............
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Mlano Train
Again we wander to the station, ready to make the swap from French to Italian. But there is something going on. There's a lot more security than usual and officials everywhere. The station is bursting with people looking animated and enthusiastic, eager almost.
But of course, the Grand Prix is on in Monaco, starting today, and all these people are catching our train. And guess what, there are no seat allocations!
It doesn't end in tears though, we get the cases on, but there are no luggage racks on this train, so we pack them against the door on the side opposite the platform side, so they should be safe. John stands with them to make sure, while I go off to find a seat. The train stops at probably about 4 or 5 stations, all going well, next stop Monaco, where most people on this packed train will get off. Train stops.....the platform is on the other side..... that would be the side our bags are stacked in front of the doors!
'Quelle horreur', no, wait we're in Italy now, or almost....'Che orrore'
Without the slightest hint of panic, John moves one big red suitcase away from the door and rips the other one on top of it, so people can get out. They are very forgiving and tolerant, with the exception of the extremely fat American trying to get on before everybody else had got off.
'Well will ya look at that, they jus' keep comin', they jus' keep comin'. When will they eva stop? And it would help if those big bags weren't in the way! I don't know if she thought John was English speaking or not. Fact was, she didn't care how offensive she was being, she just wanted to get on the train and sit down. She eventually did and didn't shut up the whole journey. Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit.
It is a fact of train travel that there will always be no lifts, broken escalators and lots of steps. I often feel for older ladies on their own, who look alarmingly at the flights of stairs they have to negotiate with their cases, it's not easy. It is also a fact that our suitcases, though not necessarily always red, will always be big cases, because we come from such a long way away and for an extended time. It is another fact, that I'm quite short and trudging up the stairs with these bulky items is challenging, though not impossible. John runs his up the steps to come back and get mine.
Standing there on my own, I look up to see if he's coming, and a young man approaches me and asks if I would like a hand. Oh God, I've become one of those older ladies people feel for......
But of course, the Grand Prix is on in Monaco, starting today, and all these people are catching our train. And guess what, there are no seat allocations!
It doesn't end in tears though, we get the cases on, but there are no luggage racks on this train, so we pack them against the door on the side opposite the platform side, so they should be safe. John stands with them to make sure, while I go off to find a seat. The train stops at probably about 4 or 5 stations, all going well, next stop Monaco, where most people on this packed train will get off. Train stops.....the platform is on the other side..... that would be the side our bags are stacked in front of the doors!
'Quelle horreur', no, wait we're in Italy now, or almost....'Che orrore'
Without the slightest hint of panic, John moves one big red suitcase away from the door and rips the other one on top of it, so people can get out. They are very forgiving and tolerant, with the exception of the extremely fat American trying to get on before everybody else had got off.
'Well will ya look at that, they jus' keep comin', they jus' keep comin'. When will they eva stop? And it would help if those big bags weren't in the way! I don't know if she thought John was English speaking or not. Fact was, she didn't care how offensive she was being, she just wanted to get on the train and sit down. She eventually did and didn't shut up the whole journey. Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit.
It is a fact of train travel that there will always be no lifts, broken escalators and lots of steps. I often feel for older ladies on their own, who look alarmingly at the flights of stairs they have to negotiate with their cases, it's not easy. It is also a fact that our suitcases, though not necessarily always red, will always be big cases, because we come from such a long way away and for an extended time. It is another fact, that I'm quite short and trudging up the stairs with these bulky items is challenging, though not impossible. John runs his up the steps to come back and get mine.
Standing there on my own, I look up to see if he's coming, and a young man approaches me and asks if I would like a hand. Oh God, I've become one of those older ladies people feel for......
NIce
Not a lot to report about Nice.
This was just an overnighter and it was raining, so what to do. The thought of our usual glass of wine in the square was out of the question, so again plan B must come into force. We passed many soul less bars which didn't look enticing and then we happened upon Paddy's Irish Pub. It was well past beer'o'clock, so in we went. I know you all laugh, but it was raining and we could have been forgiven for thinking we were in Ireland again, it was pissing down, forget the cats and dogs!
As fortune would have it, John had the best Guiness he could ever remember having, since he was young, and that was a long time ago.
It was interesting being in Nice, it is such a melting pot. We had hardly come across any Cousins (tourists from the USA) and yet, here, they were everywhere. A lot of Brits, Aussies and Asians, it is a real hub for tourists.
Again, I feel one of the worlds most liveable cities could learn a lesson. When we had finished our meal, had it still been pouring, we could have jumped a tram, bought a ticket and ridden home. Can't do that in Melbourne, can you?
However, it wasn't raining and we strolled and this is what we saw...
These figures are a work of art called The Conversation by Catalan artist Jaume Plensa. They are in a large square in the old part of Nice. Most people mistake the seven glowing figures for Buddhas, but in fact they represent the earths continents and change colours in time with each other to signify world dialogue. Perhaps Canberra could fund a work of art similar to this with lit up statues of Julia and Tony.....
Basilique Notre-Dame was beautifully lit as we approached our hotel. Such a serene note to end the night on
Bonsoir All
This was just an overnighter and it was raining, so what to do. The thought of our usual glass of wine in the square was out of the question, so again plan B must come into force. We passed many soul less bars which didn't look enticing and then we happened upon Paddy's Irish Pub. It was well past beer'o'clock, so in we went. I know you all laugh, but it was raining and we could have been forgiven for thinking we were in Ireland again, it was pissing down, forget the cats and dogs!
As fortune would have it, John had the best Guiness he could ever remember having, since he was young, and that was a long time ago.
It was interesting being in Nice, it is such a melting pot. We had hardly come across any Cousins (tourists from the USA) and yet, here, they were everywhere. A lot of Brits, Aussies and Asians, it is a real hub for tourists.
Again, I feel one of the worlds most liveable cities could learn a lesson. When we had finished our meal, had it still been pouring, we could have jumped a tram, bought a ticket and ridden home. Can't do that in Melbourne, can you?
However, it wasn't raining and we strolled and this is what we saw...
These figures are a work of art called The Conversation by Catalan artist Jaume Plensa. They are in a large square in the old part of Nice. Most people mistake the seven glowing figures for Buddhas, but in fact they represent the earths continents and change colours in time with each other to signify world dialogue. Perhaps Canberra could fund a work of art similar to this with lit up statues of Julia and Tony.....
Basilique Notre-Dame was beautifully lit as we approached our hotel. Such a serene note to end the night on
Friday, May 24, 2013
Montpellier to Nice
Off we go again.
We walk out of the apartment and on a tram to the station, how civilized. I wish it could be as easy as this all the time. Wheel the big red cases on and off with ease, no lugging them along the pavement.
The scenery along the way is rural until you hit the French Riviera. Then with the sea on one side and mountains, of both apartments and rock, on the other, it is most picturesque. Again, we take a little picnic, wouldn't want to go too long without sustenance.
This train has compartments rather than booked seats, so it's pot luck, where and with whom you sit. We scored a older (have to be careful when I say that now, cause I'm falling into the same category) French lady who was content to read her book, but sadly very little space to store luggage. And so, the big red cases had to be lifted on to racks in the compartment. Sigh...
This is the first and only time we've had to do this, so it's not been too bad, but they are heavy.
The policy of silent phones that I mentioned previously, was not observed by an Asian woman, who thought that by standing in the corridor speaking very loudly, it was ok to use her phone. What she didn't think about, was that she was annoying everybody in the carriage, not just her compartment!
We get to Nice and the weather is not. It's not far to the hotel so we wander along the street with all the other tourists and book ourselves in to a comfy Mecure, which was very good.
We walk out of the apartment and on a tram to the station, how civilized. I wish it could be as easy as this all the time. Wheel the big red cases on and off with ease, no lugging them along the pavement.
The scenery along the way is rural until you hit the French Riviera. Then with the sea on one side and mountains, of both apartments and rock, on the other, it is most picturesque. Again, we take a little picnic, wouldn't want to go too long without sustenance.
This train has compartments rather than booked seats, so it's pot luck, where and with whom you sit. We scored a older (have to be careful when I say that now, cause I'm falling into the same category) French lady who was content to read her book, but sadly very little space to store luggage. And so, the big red cases had to be lifted on to racks in the compartment. Sigh...
This is the first and only time we've had to do this, so it's not been too bad, but they are heavy.
The policy of silent phones that I mentioned previously, was not observed by an Asian woman, who thought that by standing in the corridor speaking very loudly, it was ok to use her phone. What she didn't think about, was that she was annoying everybody in the carriage, not just her compartment!
We get to Nice and the weather is not. It's not far to the hotel so we wander along the street with all the other tourists and book ourselves in to a comfy Mecure, which was very good.
French Nurseries
The french nursery/garden centre we came across was more like a market than anything else. It was an outdoor affair, and the standard was exquisite. We would have missed them entirely as it was the end of a tram line where we just happened to get off and take a wander. The choice of roses, seedlings, bushes in flower and the range of herbs had John's nose twitching.
Here a couple of my favourites....you can almost smell them when you look at them.
Here a couple of my favourites....you can almost smell them when you look at them.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Fountains
Fountains feature heavily in Montpellier. Around every second corner, there's another one.
Soothing to watch, cooling in the heat and a whole lot of fun to play in
No drought here...............
Montpellier
I like Montpellier. It's a mixture of a city, the historic centre is very interesting and laid out in a way that you just want to wander it.
We are staying to the east of the centre, in a place called Antigone a newer area built around 1979. It was designed by Ricardo Bofill, who frankly, I don't think should have passed his architecture finals. It's loud, boring and over the top. I'm sure a lot of people would like, judge for yourself.....
The outlying suburbs are packed full of high rise apartments, some attractive, some fundamental and others downright slummy, so it's a real mixture.
Throughout the city runs a tram system to be envied. There are 3 different lines and the trams arrive every 3-5 minutes. They are extremely long, clean and run between 4am and 1am. Melbournians could only dream of such a tram service. They are user friendly with room for bikes and large red suitcases and if you are confined to a wheelchair or push a pram there are no steps to negotiate when the tram pulls up. I'm sure it would have been a nightmare in the city when it was being built, but now it's complete, it's a dream.
With Bordeaux being the city of dogs, Montpellier is the city of graffiti. It is plastered all over the place, even on some of the lovely old buildings. Also the city of street markets, different ones each day. The shops are very nice but the food markets were a disappointment after Bordeaux and Toulouse, not worth a photo.
However on the upside, we found not one Irish pub, but four of the buggers and we weren't even looking. Its the weirdest thing to ask for drinks in French and be given change and thanked in Irish or British accents. Somehow they always guess John is not French.
We are staying to the east of the centre, in a place called Antigone a newer area built around 1979. It was designed by Ricardo Bofill, who frankly, I don't think should have passed his architecture finals. It's loud, boring and over the top. I'm sure a lot of people would like, judge for yourself.....
The outlying suburbs are packed full of high rise apartments, some attractive, some fundamental and others downright slummy, so it's a real mixture.
Throughout the city runs a tram system to be envied. There are 3 different lines and the trams arrive every 3-5 minutes. They are extremely long, clean and run between 4am and 1am. Melbournians could only dream of such a tram service. They are user friendly with room for bikes and large red suitcases and if you are confined to a wheelchair or push a pram there are no steps to negotiate when the tram pulls up. I'm sure it would have been a nightmare in the city when it was being built, but now it's complete, it's a dream.
With Bordeaux being the city of dogs, Montpellier is the city of graffiti. It is plastered all over the place, even on some of the lovely old buildings. Also the city of street markets, different ones each day. The shops are very nice but the food markets were a disappointment after Bordeaux and Toulouse, not worth a photo.
However on the upside, we found not one Irish pub, but four of the buggers and we weren't even looking. Its the weirdest thing to ask for drinks in French and be given change and thanked in Irish or British accents. Somehow they always guess John is not French.
Cheers to one and all....
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
To Montpeller
Onwards and upwards. Another day, another walk to the station lugging our huge red suitcases. The train comes in and John loads the cases while I find our seats. But , of course, Madame is in my seat. I tell her to get out, very nicely in French, but she declines, saying she is in the right seat!
"Regardez" she says....showing me her ticket.
"Non, vous regardez" I say....right seat, wrong carriage!
As I move backwards into another seat, so she can slink off, I am set upon by a group of 4 assertive German women (are there any other sort of German women?) telling me, that I am in their seat!
Meanwhile, Madame is slowly packing up her things and will eventually move out of my seat.
Question is, will I still be alive to sit in it?
"Regardez" she says....showing me her ticket.
"Non, vous regardez" I say....right seat, wrong carriage!
As I move backwards into another seat, so she can slink off, I am set upon by a group of 4 assertive German women (are there any other sort of German women?) telling me, that I am in their seat!
Meanwhile, Madame is slowly packing up her things and will eventually move out of my seat.
Question is, will I still be alive to sit in it?
Carcassonne
A day trip from Toulouse to Carcassonne about 40 minutes by train. Carcassonne is divided into the fortified town, Cite de Carcassonne, and the more expansive lower town, the bastide Saint-Louis. It was founded in the 5th century although the Romans had fortified the settlement area around 100BC. It is, as you would expect, rich in history, battles and industry that continued well into the 18th century.
The fortified city of Carcassonne fell into such a state of disrepair with the ramparts being used as stone quarries and in 1835 the French government decided that it should be demolished. There was an uproar and a campaign to preserve the fortress as a historical monument was started.
In 1844 the architect Viollet-le-Duc was commissioned to restore the city to its medieval appearance. He undertook a complete study of the fortifications but the restoration was strongly criticized for some interpretations Viollet-le-Duc had made, but in the end, the city was identified as the finest example of medieval military architecture and became one of the largest restoration sites in Europe. It is very hard to photograph because it is just too big!
Without his vision and leadership there would be nothing left for us to enjoy as we did today.
Interestingly, not everybody was fascinated with the architecture
Sadly the whole place has become a big tourist grab and its full of shops, bars and restaurants and looks quite artificial, but if you can overlook that aspect, the history lesson is great.
The fortified city of Carcassonne fell into such a state of disrepair with the ramparts being used as stone quarries and in 1835 the French government decided that it should be demolished. There was an uproar and a campaign to preserve the fortress as a historical monument was started.
In 1844 the architect Viollet-le-Duc was commissioned to restore the city to its medieval appearance. He undertook a complete study of the fortifications but the restoration was strongly criticized for some interpretations Viollet-le-Duc had made, but in the end, the city was identified as the finest example of medieval military architecture and became one of the largest restoration sites in Europe. It is very hard to photograph because it is just too big!
Without his vision and leadership there would be nothing left for us to enjoy as we did today.
Interestingly, not everybody was fascinated with the architecture
Sadly the whole place has become a big tourist grab and its full of shops, bars and restaurants and looks quite artificial, but if you can overlook that aspect, the history lesson is great.
Monday, May 20, 2013
The Pyrenees
This is the view that greeted us the morning we left. Every morning we had looked out of this window and it had always been wet or cloudy, so we had no idea that we actually had a view of The Pyrenees Mountain Range. Wow, spectacular and covered in snow......
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