Friday, October 4, 2002

    Oh brother, what a day! Since we didn't buy a local craft at the store in Gordes, B has been offering to spend the morning shopping in Montpellier. He's even been researching the phone books, looking for someplace that sells linens and kitchen supplies. But I was just not in the mood. I missed the opportunity; there is too much else to do. That's that. We are dispensing with a ritual. In order to squeeze the last out of the midi, we decided to drive along the coast.
    The last couple of days had been a bit hazy, and today was even more so. We recognized the smell of wood smoke—the haze is smoke from all the vintners burning vine trimmings. The scent was wonderful and unmistakable.
    Our drive began at Palavas, a very resorty town just south of Montpellier. We had a foot dabble there, then went south right along the water to an odd place that the white guide describes as a cathedral without a town. Indeed, at the bitter end of a barrier beach is a small island with the Cathedral de Maguelone. It was empty and abandoned for ages, but is now slowly being restored. We stopped on the way back to Palavas to take pictures, and found the stones beach. We collected many beautiful smooth stones to bring back as souvenirs. Coming out of Palavas, we passed a huge landfill on our right, covered with flocks of thousands of dump gulls. But B also had his eyes peeled for something he knew from the white guide that we should see somewhere around there, and he pointed to the left, near the inner coast of the back bay. Flamingoes! Oh brother, flocks of them! Only a bit pink; we assume they're not eating enough pink shrimp here in France, but there they were. As we crossed over onto the shore, we could hear them calling!
    We got lost with B trying to find the most coastal road through Villeneuve-les-Maguelone, driving the little roads right along the water. He did discover an interesting view of the cathedral, just across the water but reachable only by ferry. I persuaded him to drive back inland to find a larger, easier route south for a bit. We passed an ostrich farm! What they do with these ungainly birds is a mystery; we hadn't seen ostrich on any menus. Very soon after that, we traveled through Luray Caverns Country: a series of signs read "Muscat du pays 200 metres. . .150 metres. . .100 metres."
    The road led to Frontignan and Frontignan-Plage, where we stopped along the road for flamingo pictures. We drove through Sete, feeling at home, and south along the water to Marseillan-Plage. The white guide said that this stretch had nice beaches, but to us, spoiled as we are by the Outer Banks of North Carolina and many others, these beaches looked dirty and narrow. The fairly large road was running right in back of them, and railroad tracks were on the bay side. But we were driving along the Bassin de Thau, a big bay enclosed by barrier beaches and home of much of the wonderful seafood we'd been eating, and anticipation was running high. Next was Agde, which the white guide said would be an interesting town for a stop. As always, navigating in town was a challenge, but we found a nice parking lot not far from town center and took a stroll. This is the mouth of the Herault, "our" river, and we enjoyed the odd and forbidding basalt Cathedrale St-Etienne overlooking the river and the beginning of the Canal du Midi.
    The shopping streets were bustling, and we stopped in a little bakery to buy some supplies for car breakfast in the morning. We almost never made it out of the bakery. The lady in charge of the shop asked if we were Americans, and when we said yes, she had to tell us at great length about her niece (I think it was) who house sat for a neighbor who often traveled in America. She also explained each of the items we pointed to; one of them was "king's bread," a Christmas specialty. B wondered if the king was the baby Jesus or perhaps the magi, but she said something about a Louis, so we never were sure. Was it a favorite treat of a king? Then a conversation was struck up with an older lady who was in the shop, and then, in through the beaded curtain in the door came the cat. So of course I had to take pictures, and the shopkeeper agonized over getting the cat to pose correctly. Herding cats is never an easy chore! We finally made it out, with both ladies waving good bye and calling bon voyage.
    From Agde we headed north around the south end of the Basin, making for Meze and Bouziques of oyster fame. But with this and that, we were just at the wrong times. Too late for lunch, and too early for supper. I did get a few pictures of the giant oyster sign, and some that I'm hoping will turn out from the pier in front of the Blue Coast Restaurant that wasn't open yet. The view over the Bassin, with the hill of Sete against the horizon, the deep blue water of the Bassin reflecting the pilings of the oyster farms was just perfect. Well worth the drive and a fitting end to our trip to the south of France.
    B is took his lack of oysters philosophically and I decided that I must be in charge of scheduling lunch breaks while in France. He never wants to stop! We did sit in a little waterfront cafe for a drink, and debated staying on in Bouziques for supper. But in the end we decided to come home for a refrigerator supper, a relax and then packing. After all, we had our Blanquette de Limoux and pepper cookies, loads of olives and cheese and bread. And sausage, salad, a bottle of Cote du Roussillion, tomato on toast and a pleasant evening at home.

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