Muddy Marge

Soreze

The rain has arrived, although it is still fairly warm. 19c. We are still wearing our shorts, which gives us away as being tourists, and probably English! We were under no illusion that the weather would change once we returned to France and headed north, so we were grateful for yesterday, when the weather was glorious. Angela's niece, is at her holiday home in Albufeira, Portugal, where we met Sandra and Gloria a month ago. Seeing the photographs of the Portuguese resort on Facebook, makes us want to turn Marge around and head back down south. 

Today we travelled up country, the rain as we drove down from the Pyrenees was heavy. Fortunately, the mountain roads were quiet, which Angela mentioned, just as two cars and, a campervan appeared on a narrow stretch of road, just around a bend. Breath in Marge, this is going to be a very tight squeeze. Why do we make these stupid comments? The mountain road required two pairs of eyes. One to watch the winding roads, the other to seek out any upward oncoming traffic, which can sometimes be spotted through the trees.

All that aside, we saw yet more stunning views and a fantastic rock formation, which we stopped to photograph.

In the hedgerow next to Marge were blackthorn bushes, so of course John had to forage some of their fruit.

As we reached the valley, we could see the fast flowing river waters. When we were in Portugal and Spain, we commented daily on how dry the river beds were. They always look nicer with water flowing through them, rain the price to pay for that. Looking back towards the slopes, the vineyards were a tapestry of golds and reds. So that was mountains done. Did you enjoy them Marge? 

Our journey then on was fraught. The rain was horrendous, torrential to the point visibility was much reduced, and then calm, until the next band came across. Leaves were torn from the trees by the savage wind that accompanied the rain.  Turning back south had never been more appalling!

Around two o' clock, we arrived at tonight's stop in the town of Soreze, just north of 

Castelnaudary, which is between Carcassonne and Toulouse. We were back in familiar territory, having cycled nearby, alongside the Canal du Midi on a trip to Narbonne a few years ago. For us France is like a pair of old slippers, familiar and comfortable.

We took our usual walk out to discover the medieval town, with its Colambage houses, (half timbered), and historical monuments.

Some of the exposed timbers on the buildings were rife with woodworm, and we wondered just how reliable they now were for the job they were originally intended for. The Abbey, founded in 734, dominated the town. As we passed by one house, we stopped to look at the display of chicks in the double fronted windows.

Obviously, the owner didn't realise today was Halloween, and not Easter, which even we'd realised, having been in a time warp for so long.

Amongst the narrow streets when we walked out again later, (to make up the shortfall in John's target of ten thousand steps), we could see the children dressed in their costumes, buckets and bags in hand. Tonight from Marge, we can see the silhouetted cardboard cut outs of the nearby trees against a dark sky. Just a little spooky!

Tomorrow we need to eat up some miles, if we want to spend a little time in the Loire. So an early night, and and a early start for us.