Wednesday, September 25, 2002

    Yesterday (Wed) was our first full day with Elizabeth awake and functional, though she didn't wake up until 11 a.m., tired out after her long flight! B and I had decided by that point to go on our own to the market. It is held every Wednesday, as it has been for the last 1,000 years. We weren't sure how late it would go, or how quickly fresh things would be sold out. We didn't want to be late. It took a while to actually find the market. Of course there were no signs. After a thousand years, we assume most folks know by now how to find it! I figured that we just needed to go against the flow of all the people carrying the sacks, and there it was.
    The market was a good size, with sellers of textiles, new and used clothes, leather goods, pottery, jewelry and of course all kinds of food spread out under the castle walls. There was no problem with selling out early: the vendors were still doing a roaring business when we arrived sometime around eleven. All kinds of olives, fruits, vegetables, breads, cheeses, nuts and meats (fresh and cured) were for sale. We spent 29 EUR alone on three wedges of different cheeses, and the vendor threw in a big extra hunk as a cadeaux. Same at a vegetable stand: three melons for 3 EUR and we got an extra for free! We stocked up on several kinds of olives, lettuce, and pork slices, a sausage, breads and other things I can't recall as I write. B's arms were stretched to the ground by the time we made it back to our car. "I don't know why we didn't bring something better to carry all this stuff in," he said. Naturally we had just set out without a care, totally unprepared.
    After the market, we looked around town for an Intermarché without success. I wanted to stock up on some other things like detergent, but we'll have to do that another day. We did get gas, after struggling for a few minutes, trying to figure out how to open the gas cap. A very kind attendant saw our distress and demonstrated. We stopped briefly at a local olive oil coop store, which turned out to be a touristy oils and doodads shop. B sampled every one of the oils from the little ewers put out for the purpose. Much oohing and mm-ing. The oils were very expensive, so we forbore. Home by one; E had been up for a while now and was ready for adventure.
    We decided to go to Saint Guilhem le Desert with car lunch, then find someplace nice for supper. Our route was Peret–Nebian–Brignac–Canet (by mistake!)–St. André de Sangionis–Lagsmas–Montepeyroux and up through the gorge, past the Pont du Diable (built in 1030) and up to St. G. Like Couvertoirade, St. G. is mainly a tourist town, another of the 100 Most Beautiful Villages. B & I had to go see it, because it's the town that got us so interested in southern France. It is not walled or circular, just goes up and up with many "eau potable" spring water fountains in town. Lots of restoration work going on there.
    I wore Pat Brennan's blue shirt and Patty's wool socks on this excursion!
    We drove back down to the lake to have lunch--lots of olives, including my favorite: lime green lucques that taste like fresh pickles! Cheese, paté, breads--not a hermit's meager lunch.
    B wandered along the edge of the parking lot. Soon he called back, "This is the bridge." We went to where he was standing, pointing down, and saw the real bridge. "I knew these other things weren't right," he said. "The pictures all showed three arches." B had spent a lot of time reading about places to go and things to see before we left. Now it was paying off, because we had been accepting the newer bridge as the ancient one! Oh brother!
    We decided to drive to Sete for a seafood supper and sample a Red Guide recommendation. Coté d'Sud had whetted our appetite for fish.
    Route to Sete: St. G. Montpeyroux–Lagsmas–Gignac– Canet–Plaiscan–Villeveyrac–Poussant–Sete. It's not an old town, but it is right on the sea and a working fishing town, so there are loads of seafood restaurants. It took a while to find La Palangrotte, as there was a Rue and a Quay with the same name. But we got a look at the quayside while searching. We were early for supper, so we sat in a bar nearby while B enjoyed his first pastis and E and I wrote postcards. The bar had no other patrons but us, and about six men playing a little kind of roulette game at the bar. They were being served drinks and eating tapenade that the bartender put out, but we never saw anyone pay for anything. Soon enough it was time for supper.
    We all ordered fixed menus. B and I had the 20 EUR Terroir, and E had the Setois Menu, featuring fish soup with a bouillabaisse stock. We began with a piece of mackerel in buttery gelatin with little carrot and vegetable slices. B then received six scrumptious oysters; I got a flan with mussels and tomato sauce, a half moon of croissant bread and two cooked mussels in olive oil and the tiniest bits of basil I've ever seen. E had raw seafood salad on greens.
    Then, cuttlefish and pasta for B with a creamy sauce; I got fish with a slice of bacon, a slice of ham and red pepper ragout. E had her fish in bouillabaisse sauce, with little toasts and a buttery sauce to dunk in the broth. Dessert was cheese for B; warm apple tart with vanilla ice cream for me. E had pineapple and ice cream. We shared two bottles of wine, recommended by our waiter. E and I had cafe and B a glass of muscat for our digestifs. 110 EUR and an 20 EUR tip. E paid for supper and we left the tip.
    Coming home was a bit of a challenge--getting out of Sete wasn't easy! The European "follow signs for a likely destination" system was frustrating, with inconsistent destinations only occasionally marked. We finally found a way back, passing through Montbazin, which has a nicely illuminated church.

< Return · Continue >