Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité, Générosité, Probité

Those are words above Hotel de Ville in Aix-en-Provence. They certainly describe the city and the French and our experience. From walking the endless cobble streets, enjoying the light streaming through the windows of our flat, gathering food at the market, to standing in the ATELIER DE CEZANNE we thanked our lucky stars for this experience. Here are some impressions.

Morning in Aix-en-Provence

Bonjour campers! We have a lovely flat in Aix and woke up this morning with the french windows open and the chirp of birds. Slowly the streets awoke, children off to school, markets opening and the day begins.

A net bag hangs outside our door each morning filled with bread.

The morning light was . . . morning light in Aix-en-Provence.

Off to the morning market capturing moments around every corner.

And then, you are at the market.

My loot from this morning and I’ll shortly be off to collect a roast chicken and makings of a green salad for tonights dinner in our flat.

Oh, here’s my new best friend, Micky.

Arles

After disembarking from the Enchante, Sylvain dropped us off at the station in Nimes and we caught a train to Arles, a UNESCO World Heritage site for its roman and romanesque monuments. Of course, the most famous resident is Vincent Van Gogh. He spent over a year painting in and around Arles and many months in a psychiatric hospital. We arrived in Arles to grey skies and a steady rain, water sloshing down the streets and people crowding in doorways waiting for it to break. Maybe the history, maybe the weather but while enjoying ourselves immensely, the touch of melancholy was in the air. We were told Arles was a bit down on it’s luck but we found the lack of gentrification refreshing and the town an honest presentation of itself.

We try to walk from the train stations to exercise our bodies and minds and Arles was no exception. As we were well in advance of check in time at the hotel, Wayne decided a glass of wine was in order so we stopped at a sidewalk cafe. Soon after we sat people started running in and out with a frantic look on their faces. We were perplexed. Soon, paramedics arrived all flashing lights and sirens. Apparently, a severely injured person was laid out just inside the door. No one asked us to move, so the whole scene played out in front of us. The French emergency response was spot on and they quickly immobilized the victim with an inflatable stretcher and whisked him off to treatment. I have to admit, I peeked in several times. Of course, the lovely French couple took all in stride and sipped their afternoon wine.

The streets of Arles wind, curve, uphill, downhill, open onto squares and end in alleys. There is a new view almost every step. The naughty French kitty jumped into the open window when we approached. We turned the corner and out he came on the other side.

The roman and romanesque monuments are impressive. We walked round the amphitheater and the antique theater.

Wayne decided this house would suit just fine should we entertain residing in Arles. The roof line of the front is actually the balustrade of a third floor terrace.

A Saturday evening wedding at the Hotel de Ville.

And the bells rang Sunday morning.

An abundance of stunning entryways and shops.

While searching for Van Gogh’s home (which was destroyed) we happened upon the very spot were he painted Nuit étoilée sur le Rhône. You can see the shore and bridge below and in the painting.

Arles even had their own “yellow vest” protest parade on Sunday. While a little wet from rain, very neighborly with smiles all around.

We were very lucky campers. When we checked into the hotel they told us we had been selected as the “guest of the day” and thus were upgraded to a large room with two french windows and a bathroom that was a religious experience with the tile, in Van Gogh’s palette, and a chair depicted in studio paintings.

Cuisine of Sylvain Moretto

On the Hotel Barge “Enchante”

I would posit every American traveling to France dreams of having the “meal of a lifetime”, their taste buds thrilled with every bite. Quite possibly many leave disappointed. That could never happen when Sylvain is chef. While he works quietly in an open kitchen with guests mere feet away, each move is confident, precise and achieves the intended purpose. He never seems to make just one dish from start to finish. Instead he is heating, cooling, seasoning, resting the food, and building the entire meal. Each course reaches its full potential just as it is placed in front of you. I thought I captured all of them but frequently the desire to pick up the fork beat out the camera.

Goats Cheese Aumoniere with honey and almonds served on a bed of green leaves. Roast Breast of Guinea Fowl with Tarragon Sauce served on top of potato balls with radishes and spring onion.

The kitchen is always working.

Tomato and Mozzarella Stacks with Fresh Basil, Balsamic Vinegar, and Olive Oil. Scallops in Crayfish Sauce. Rack of Lamb in Rosemary Jus with Ratatouille.

Preparing caramel baskets and poaching pears.

Filet of Fish from Narbonne Market on a bed of roast Fennel with Sauce Vierge and Pilaf Rice. Creme Caramel with basket of strawberries.

Parmentier de Canard with Parsnip crisps in a Spicy Sauce served with Celeriac Puree and Sautéed Celery.

Preparing Mint Creme Anglaise for snails while the Sole waits preparation (see previous post).

Trio of Asparagus served with a Homemade Herb Mayonnaise. Sole Meuniere served with Spinach Flan and Tomato Provencal.

Each dinner included a cheese course with flavors from local regions of France. This night was Morbier, Munster, and Langres.

Tartar of Avocado with Prawns in a Soy Sauce and Sesame Seed Dressing. Salmon in a Crust of Rock Salt (see previous post for visual recipe) served with fondue of Leek and Creamy Risotto.

Cheese Soufflé. Blanquette de Veau with Homemade Pasta, Pleurotes Mushrooms, Carrots, and Coriander.

Each morning a breakfast table was laid with pastries brought aboard daily, fruit, possibly some cheese from the previous night, smoked trout or ham, coffee and fresh squeezed orange juice.

Smoked ham, Quail Eggs, Phyllo cup with greens and walnuts. Tuna Steak with Beurre Blanc Sauce served with Lentils and Bell Peppers. Tiramisu.

The final meal comes together step by step.

For our final dinner; Homemade Foie Gras marinated with Cognac served with Fig Jam made with Red Wine and Cinnamon. Charolais Beef with Pear Shaped Mashed Potato, Green Beans wrapped in Bacon and Morel Mushroom Sauce.

Choux Pastry Swans swimming in a pool of Chocolate Caramel Sauce with Roast Nuts. Sylvain insisted his Sous-Chef plate our final dessert. The pressure was intense.

Nothing more powerful than a chef.

You have to be confident in who you are and what you’re doing. Of course, you try to evolve. I would never tell you, ‘Today is the best I will ever be.’ I’m always trying to be a better chef, a better dad, a better person.”

Guy Fieri

Seems he was describing Sylvain.

Carcassonne

Bonjour, Campers! Finally the French have deviated from perfect weather to rain and clouds. Actually, the perfect way to view Carcassonne – no crowds and the dark sky increases the imposing nature of the fortress. Regardless of the weather, the crew deliver fresh bread every morning, even the captain.

After breakfast we hopped on the van for a trip to Carcassonne, a city inhabited since the neolithic period. Until the Treaty of the Pyrenees transferred the border province of Roussillon to France in 1659, Carcassonne was on the Catalonian border and completely contained within a double walled citadel. During a papal siege in 1209 a surrender treaty allowed the citizens to leave their fortified village and inhabit the valley below giving way to today’s city limits. The citadel, known as the Cité de Carcassonne, is a medieval fortress dating back to the Gallo-Roman period and restored by the theorist and architect Eugène Viollet-le-Duc in 1853. It was added to the UNESCO list of World Heritage Sites in 1997.

Although she appears to be a fictional character, a bust of Lady Carcas stands guard over the entrance and her legend provides the etiological origin for the Carcassonne name. The plaque below honors the UNESCO World Heritage designation.

O’er the ramparts we climbed and learned about stairways built to make climbing difficult for an enemy in armor and advantage the defender and took in the view of the modern city originally inhabited by the fleeing citizens.

The cathedral within the walls is of two distinct periods. The nave is romanesque and plain, the altar, built as a pride of French victory is fine gothic tracery.

Turns out, gargoyles function brilliantly.

We returned to the barge, and enjoyed our final cruise through a misty rain.

Billboard on the Canal du Midi.

After a final dinner (more to come on the cuisine), Sylvain presented my sous-chef toque which I will cherish.

Lagrasse

Bonjour, Campers!

Sylvain’s shopping day is Wednesday. That means no lunch on the barge. Instead we took a trip to Lagrasse, a small village in Aude and lunched in a restaurant.

Wayne loves the Deux Chevaux auto made until 1990. A vintage model parked next to us tooted it’s own horn.

As we wandered through Lagrasse, another Les Plus Beaux Villages de France, it’s charming nature stood out.

Speaking of “charming” our group has decided the word is now drastically overused describing every turn of a corner and each utterance requires a “Cher Slap”.

Our walk went past the cemetery so in we went. French bury in family graves so they are adorned with pictures and “souvenirs” of each family member. The large monument is for the Berliotz family who were benefactors to the abbey and lived in the household portion until 1922. The four stones at the top of the arch are thought to by the Master of Cabestany, making it significant in ancient sculpture.

On to the Abbey. There are two separate areas, one the previous home of a ruling monk and the working abbey. We were not allowed into the working abbey but a monk did come out to say “hi”. The piece of “in situ” art in the former household chapel was completed by Christian Jaccard in 2017 by applying an ointment to the wall and setting it aflame.

It’s always worth taking a peek over the garden doors to see what lies behind. These are “allotment” gardens, city owned plots where citizens can create their own secrets.

Des roses et le chien overwhelm with charm – – – uh, change that to “are overwhelmingly captivating”.

A small and delicate cathedral had typical pews of chairs tied together with a kneeling bench in back. These colored by sun shining through stained glass.

After boarding the barge we took a short cruise and arrived at our mooring next to a lock house. After a walk in the evening light we dined on Sole Meuniere (food post to follow). Bonsoir, Campers.

Silvain Shares His Kitchen

Prepping Sole, Gâteau Breton with Apricot Filling and Salmon Baked in Rock salt

We’ve been in a WiFi black hole the past three days so no posts but I was having a great time in the kitchen. Sylvain, our incredible chef, has made this trip remarkable. I’ll do a full post on the food later but for now, here’s this.

Prepare your sole

A little long, but you can see each step of Silvain’s Salmon in a Crust of Rock Salt.

Through the Locks

avec vue sur la terra

We lazed around the boat in the morning and after a lunch of oysters and seafood our cruise got underway. I opted for getting off at the first lock and biking along the canal giving me a different view than staying on the barge. The food has been incredible and I’ll do a full post at the end of the week.

The process of passing through a lock is one of repetition, pull up, sometimes wait for some traffic, the first door opens after the level in the lock falls, pull into the lock, doors close behind, the sluice doors open filling the now occupied lock from the base of the forward doors, once the water is raised the doors open and on you go. Repeated over and over and over. Here is a series of still and video of process.

Sometimes you catch a passenger through the door.

It’s always a tight fit.

Always a lock house.

The Sluice Gates Opening
Sometimes it gets a little crowded
Accidents could happen when one doesn’t keep their eye on the path.

13,777 Steps Along the Canal du Midi

Walking the canal offers another view.

Morning light brings clear, crisp Aude skies.

As always, click on thumbnail to expand.

After breakfast we set off west towards Toulouse. And we joined the main artery of the Canal du Midi. In the process we crossed two rivers, the first the Cesse, then disembarked and walked alongside the canal, and then reboarded and traversed Repudre Aqueduct, the oldest navigable aqueduct in the world, built in 1676. In some of these shots the view seems from a bridge but in fact is from the aqueduct and we are cruising on the barge. Fred guided the barge through one of the tightest bridges on the canal with nary a scrape.

At each lock sits a lock house. They are a simple duplex. The plaque on each house shows the distance to the next lock in either direction. In France, lock keepers were generally women. Shortly after World War I, war widows were offered jobs as lock keepers which provided housing. Many of the women fostered war orphans so the houses were often filled with children. Now it seems cats have taken over.

Walking the foot path (originally used for horse drawn tows) is a wonderful perspective, weaving through some very local sites.

The stretch of canal that we walked today was barren of the famous Plane tree. The canal was lined with them in the1800’s but since 2006 many succumbed to a fungus and had to be felled. Restoration is on-going with a new type of Sycamore tree called the Platanor. A vaccine has been developed and test trees are identified with a tag. The Pyrenees complete the backdrop.

While the trees might be seedlings the wildflowers were flourishing. Yellow Iris line the canal along with the occasional field of poppies. The vineyards seem infinite.

After lunch we toured an olive processing commune. Nothing much was happening since the trees are just flowering and harvest doesn’t begin until fall. Then we were off to the city of Minerve which has just achieved designation as a Les Plus Beaux Villages de France. Minerve is a small, compact town perched on top of the gorge of the river Cesse. With only one bridge of entry is was easily defensible and survived six weeks of a siege only to have the attackers cut off their water supply from a well near the river below. There a few streets, mostly just cobblestone paths lined with homes that still burn fire for heat. Oh, and the occasional cat.

Steps 13,767 to 13, 777 were boarding the barge to enjoy the evening light before dinner.

A single moment can tell an entire story if you are willing to let it.

On to the Barge

We transferred to our mobile home for the next seven days.

We will traverse the Canal du Midi on the Enchante’. We boarded late Sunday afternoon. The barge started cruising once we initially settled.

A look through our porthole window at eye level

We got underway and immediately ventured through a series of locks. Maneuvering the locks is a learned skill.

Each tight as a drum.

Some required a head duck to prevent premature beheading.

But each raised our barge just as it has for centuries.

Eventually we moored for the evening, a walk at dusk, and dinner.

Sunday at Les Marche Narbonne

“The best way to execute French cooking is to get good and loaded and whack the hell out of a chicken.” ~ Julia Child

How do the citizens of Narbonne spend their early Sunday afternoons? Going to market – to purchase, to meet, to spend time with friends, to sell, to eat, drink and celebrate the richness of being French. American commentary is of no use, the French have figured it out.

Bonjour

From Chicago to Paris to Narbonne

An airplane, a long walk, two hotels and a train ride

We started out Thursday evening with an uneventful flight from Chicago to Paris. Landing early Friday morning we hopped on a bus to Gare de Lyon, our hotel was within walking distance from the station. After three miles hauling luggage over cobblestone we had sufficiently worn our feet to nubs and our muscles ached. A light drizzle started at dinner and turned into a sort of deluge throughout the night and into Saturday morning giving Paris an overcast. Perhaps a leftover mood from the tragedy of Notre Dame.

Click on images to enlarge. A note; since last posting the site has been upgraded so forgive me while I try out new features.

The view from our window
A quick taxi to Gare de Lyon to board our train for Narbonne.

Our train pulled out on time and we were soon on a winged bullet flying through the countryside. Capturing views from the window of a high speed train is nigh impossible but I gave it a try.

The rolling hills quickly transformed to seaside views.

We selected Narbonne as the meeting point for our group of seven to start our barge trip through the Canal du Midi. We anticipated a simple sleep over and nothings special. What a surprise! Who knew we landed upon such a charming town.

We met a new friend while walking along the canal. If you ever met our dear Isadore the smile and personality will seem familiar.

In the city center is Narbonne Cathedral. Normally we just pop into a cathedral for a quick tour but the history of this church dates back to 331, the gargoyles staring at you from every crook and bend dared us to go inside.

We just happened to be touring the interior while a choir was rehearsing for their concert that night.

The vaulting was extremely high and seemed out of proportion but made sense when you understand that only the “choir” section of the church was built. The rest of the cathedral was left unfinished due to poor planning requiring the demolition of the city wall abutting the site.

Later in the evening we strolled out for dinner.

A bit of street theatre
The first bowl of Moules Mariniere

Bonsoir