Friday, 9 June 2017 to Thursday, 15 June 2017
Still feeling the effects of the long drive during the last two days from Sète to Sète via Cadaques I did not become fully conscious much before 10:00 this morning. Who would have thought!

We worked most of the day and it was late afternoon when we dragged our still weary bodies up the road to the copy shop. We had copies made of our passports, visas, residence permits, ID books and driver’s licenses, this all to be kept in the car for in case we get stopped by an authority figure. Maybe we should have done this a while back? You think?

Renate requested a visit from us tonight for a tell-all of our trip to Collioure and beyond to Cadaques, places she had often visited in her younger days with her dashing young suitors. Renate was having an off night; she was not herself and only perked up when she started showing us her photo album of years gone by. You could see the years roll back as her smile widened with each passing year and page.

She loved telling us the stories behind each black and white picture dating back to the 50s, 60’s and 70s. Wow, what a life she lived, she should write a book! Renate has an insanely sharp memory; she can recall minute details at will from any part of her life. She told us that her intention had been to write a book about her life but she always put it off, and now she was too old and also she doesn’t know any ghost writers to do the job for her.

I took many photos of the view from Renate’s apartment during our visits there but never took a picture of her, how stupid was that! Anyway, while we looked through her photos I took a picture of the one black and white photo she said was her best, at 24 years of age. This picture was taken in Monaco by her boyfriend at the time, lovely young German lass she was, don’t you think!

 

Her other favourite picture is the one of her when she met General Charles de Gaulle in Monaco during his visit there in the 60s. And I can still hear her say in that German accent “Wasn’t that something!?”

We spent a lazy Saturday morning at home and suddenly started scurrying around when we realized that time was fast approaching 14:00, the time we had arranged to meet Didier and his sister Jo in Montpellier.

We had a choice of using the foot/bus/tram combination, the foot/train combination, or the car. We chose the car, and in any case, the other modes of transport would not have brought us to Montpellier by 14:00, due to our retarded timing.

We drove into Montpellier and found free parking in the area that Parkopedia.com said we would, this site is rather okay. Enter your destination and time that parking is required and it provides feedback on free parking as well as costs of paid street parking, parking garages and parking lots. It seemed to work rather well for us today.

Jo is an expert at lace making, a highly regarded art form, and seeing these masterpieces that she creates, it is no wonder. Jo gives classes in lace making almost every Saturday and invited Adri for a class today, or rather, Adri invited herself, hence the reason for our meeting up.

We met Didier and Jo at the prearranged spot and what a lovely bubbly person Jo turned out to be! Soon enough her and Adri disappeared around the corner to the shop where the lessons are given, while Didier and I continued with a few more blanche beers. After the lace lesson we had yet another blanche with the lady folk but now it was getting late. Didier had places to go and people to see, and we just had places to go.

I drove home ever so slightly under the weather after my three beers, Didier will tell you it was four, but whose counting.

I watched the rugby match between SA and France and, truth be told, taking my current location into account, I would have been happy with a win either way. I was though rather delighted that the Springboks played a much improved game to the crap they dished up last year. One can only hope that they’ve turned a page of the good book.

Maybe I was still feeling the effects of our driving to Spain, maybe it was the beers of yesterday with Didier, but I did not rise to any occasion much before 10:00 on Sunday morning. I started working, I needed to get the blog published which I did not complete on Friday, and had no time to progress such yesterday.

Tonight Adri used the last sachet of the Penang curry we bought a while back and man, was this stuff stupendous! And to think a few months back we enjoyed it as much but it was never this special as you knew you could have it anytime, at will. These Thai specialties are not readily available here, believe me, we have searched high and low… maybe we should search centre. Be as it may, it just goes to show, absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

Monday was a scorcher. Officially my weather app said it was 31°C, unofficially the word on the street was that it went up to 36°C. Ouch!

As we left the apartment we found a Dear Johnny letter on our doorstep. The Society Sociale l’Assurance Maladie responded and advised that they could not process our request for the Carte Vitale, but the reason for this rejection we had to have interpreted, but we guessed it was because we would not be staying on in Sète past 16 June. Oh well, some you win, some you lose, this one we lost, but we’ll try again in the future once we have all the facts.

Because our time in Sète was fast approaching its end we decided to go for one final drive around the immediate area, to anywhere really. We first stopped off at a few stores to try and replace stuff that we broke. Thus far it totals one wine glass (the one that broke twice), one beer glass, one soup plate and one lamp shade… Um, promise, nobody was swinging from the chandeliers. It was a yoga move that sent the lampshade to its ultimate shattering end. Well, I didn’t ask for the lamp shades to hang this low, like low hanging fruit ready for the picking, which I did. Anyway, we found nothing that closely resembled the replacement parts required so we’ll just pay our dues upon exit.

After we found nothing we took a drive to Cap d’Agde to have a drink at our favourite L’Arlequin Restaurant for a soggy respite from the heat. We found the town as we left it a few weeks back with yachts and all. Before settling in we took a walk along the promenade perving at the yachts and what not. It was hot… the sun seamed to throw its rays at us from above and below, there was nowhere to run, there was nowhere to hide. Adri said the sun was making her naar, now that could be translated to either making her bilious, or making her pissed off. I suspect it was the former, I was hoping it was the latter.

The sun remained angry while we searched and found solace in the arms of L’Arlequin. An ice cold Pelforth and large glass of Sangria later and the sun was forgiven for its harsh treatment. We were served by the same friendly waiter as last, the wifi connected automatically, it felt like a homecoming.

 

 

It was past 17:30 with the sun still high when we took the road that was marked “Sète”. On the way we stopped off somewhere in the centre of the lovely long white sandy beach that stretches for kilometres between Sète and Marseillan Plage. The water felt freezing cold to my feet in stark contrast to the sweltering heat everywhere else… I wished we had brought our costumes along, Adri was not so sure.

I had to throw out the rubbish tonight, the bin was overflowing and Adri was worried it might grow legs and walk itself to the dumpster. There’s a fine here for that. Walking the 100 metres up to the central rubbish bins I could not believe how totally agreeable the weather suddenly felt. Gone was that oppressive heat with the sun, now at 21:00, hiding behind the buildings while a gentle breeze was building in my direction, it was a delight. I was secretly hoping there was another rubbish bag ready for disposal when I got back home.

Tuesday we had places to go, people to see… but still we had a slow start to the day, and it was about to get slower. With the best intentions to leave at around 09:00, we left at 10:45, no surprises there. What was a surprise was when we found the bridge over the canal open, so that put us back another 15 minutes or so. We officially left Séte at 11:00. That still left us with more than 10 hours of daylight, so all was good. This positive attitude was of course all misplaced, but I’m running ahead of myself…

Going north we eventually met up with the A75 highway taking us further north, our first intended destination was the Gorges de Tarn. On the way there we unexpectedly passed over the Viaduc de Millau. Also unexpectedly we had to pay €8 for that privilege, but that was money well spent, it is an engineering marvel, something to behold. It is the tallest bridge in the world with one of the masts reaching 343 metres, and the 22^nd highest bridge deck in the world, with 270 metres between road deck and the ground below. It certainly feels like one is on your way to heaven.

We drove into and out of a lovely little town called Aguessac but to our left, on a hilltop, there was an even more amazing looking little hilltop village called Compeyre, we just had to get up there. We tried various roads and routes but failed, they all ended in dead-ends. Time was moving on and reluctantly so did we. But, alas, just before Pailhas, we found a road that led us all the way up to Compeyre.

As we rode into town, marvelling at the old buildings and the view down to Aguessac, we came under attack. There was a rifle shot followed by the sound of that bullet ricocheting around the buildings going thwack… thwack … thwack… When my eyes popped back into their sockets and my senses returned to near normalcy, we realized that the thwacking sound was coming from one of the thwacking wheels. Surely that bullet could not be ricocheting in there? And in any case, when I stopped, that sound all but disappeared. Uh oh! Stopped again, checked wheels, all were fine, got in… thwack … thwack … thwack … Oh shit!

We pulled into a parking area and drove forwards and backwards trying to figure out what was happening. This was too much for a curious young man who came over to investigate what the fuss was about.

And what a lovely young man Laurent turned out to be. With his limited English and our nonexistent French we determined that a screw had embedded itself into the front left wheel causing the thwacking, and also the reason the tyre was not defarting. Yes, we were truly screwed. I started changing the tyre but Laurent would have none of it, he took over and without fuss the wheel was changed to one of those wafer thin tyres which we used to call Marie Biscuits, which I don’t trust anywhere near 30km/h.

We were ready to go when Laurent, who used to own a snack bar in the village, supplied me with copious amounts of wet wipes to wipe my hands and my brow and my… Laurent, having done most of the dirty work was spotlessly clean. How does that work anyway? He then suggested we go back to Millau, pronounced like a cat would… meow, to get the tyre fixed.

Finding the tyre shop was easy enough, to get the tyre fixed was not. Taking the tyre by the scruff of its neck the attendant suggested I come back later. But… but… I went to the lady with English behind the counter and was told to come back at 18:00. “But that’s three hours away!” I murmured to myself but ventured aloud “We still have to get back to Sète today”, hoping that would bring the process to a quicker head. But I was dearly mistaken when she replied “Okay, you can come back tomorrow”. Ugh!

What could we do, we set about exploring the town but first things first, there was a beer with my name engraved on its glass. It turned out to be a Hoegaarden at Le Delice Brasserie… Adri also had a beer and did that swap-out thing that she does, swapping our beers when mine reaches the one-third mark with hers still at the two-third mark. Buying Adri beer has its perks.

 

Le Delice’s beer was un delice (a delight), its wifi not, of course it was not working. When I checked through the available wifi connections I noticed that Orange had a hotspot there and remembered that I signed up for their free wifi, a perk when you are a customer of theirs. And of course it worked, first time. The service is expectedly capped at one device at a time so Adri and I took turns surfing over the next hour or so. Thank you Orange, you’re a real life saver.

We then strolled around this lovely town, a place one immediately feels comfortable in, with mountains all around and the Tarn River running through it. We unfortunately saw only a smattering of it before we had to head back for our 18:00 rendezvous. The tyre was fixed and fitted and we were out of there, like a bullet (bad choice of word, wouldn’t you say?)

 

 

Now the main aim of today’s excursion was to meet up at Didier’s mountain retreat for a visit, and then to continue on to a circle route from there back to Séte. There was now no time left for such a visit although we did drive into the Gorges de Tarn, turning around and back only when the sun urged us to. This area is remarkably beautiful with the Tarn river running along the seam of the gorge with stunning green around and up into the mountains.

On the way back we turned off to visit Le Rozier village as well as the adjoining beautiful village of Peyreleau. One simply cannot stop trying to imagine what it would be like to live in one such place… Wow, one could certainly find peace around the Tarn.

 

 

 

But, time was not in our favour and we had to hurry on home to reach such, preferably before the sun said bonne nuit (goodnight). We got home at around 22:00 with the light almost all gone. Wow, what a day! Just a pity we did not get to see Didier.

Wednesday, our second last day in Sète appeared out of nowhere, it just appeared. Having spent three months in Sète we got used to being settled in one place but, on the other hand, we were now getting excited to move on again to new pastures.

It was very early afternoon when we walked down to the market; it would be our very last time, for now at least. Most stalls were already busy shutting shop but there was still a hive of activity… a huge passenger liner was in town.

Not needing anything really we weren’t particularly surprised not to find anything to buy so we headed home, got into the car ,and headed to the Auchan Supermarket. We were invited to Renate for one last sunset up on her balcony and we agreed to get some foodstuffs and wine for our final farewell.

It was just past 18:00 when we crept upstairs with trays heavily laden with food and drinks of all persuasions. We spent a lovely last evening with Renate, eating and drinking and chatting until it was time to go. We said our sad goodbyes but I am sure we will see Renate again sometime… somehow…

Later on in the evening when Adri initiated the packing process she took all the food that was left in the fridge/freezer, made up a food parcel and took it upstairs. Renate eats so little she reckoned she will still have Christmas lunch with our ingredients!

Thursday morning Adri got up at 06:30, I got coffee in bed at 07:30, I got up at 08:30, we left at 10:30, after handing over the keys as well as breakages funds to Karine.

We took a wild detour on the way to Marseille… but let me explain. Because we missed seeing Didier in his mountain habitat on Tuesday due to our puncture mishap, we arranged to visit him today in a roundabout way.

Heading north from Montpellier we passed through Saint Martin de Londres, Laroque with its beautiful little restaurants arranged under huge green leafy trees along the Herault River, then through Ganges and on to his little town of about 20 houses high up in the mountains… beautiful!

Didier bought this stone house over a year ago and has systematically been restoring it to its former glory. Although there is still some work to be done the place looks amazing! On the ground floor there is an entrance area, kitchen and dining area as well as a lounge and a guest toilet.

Upstairs there are three bedrooms and a full bathroom. Below the house is a cellar that is wonderfully cool, this could definitely be converted into a fourth bedroom or a separate small apartment or living space. There is another storeroom separate from the house, quite a large garden area and the best of all, a patio with an amazing view to the mountains all around.

The peace and tranquillity here is palpable, this is surely a place where one can go to find yourself, and also people you weren’t looking for. Simply amazing!

When we arrived, the familiar smell of a braai (barbeque) greeted my eager nostrils; the coals were almost perfect to start. After a tour of the house and the surrounding area we were offered drinks and settled out on the patio. And that’s when Didier brought out these huge chunks of beef called Cote de boeuf which were nonchalantly slapped onto the braai. Both sides were sealed and browned after which the top was placed over this herd. It was not long before those puppies were just perfect.

While waiting for this perfection we were presented with a baguette and two types of tapenade to still the hunger pangs that were getting ready to escape. Once those Cote’s were ready we tore into them with gusto and at the final whistle there was not much left.

But all was not yet said and done. There were three different goat’s cheeses, specialities from this region of France, which we had with the leftover baguette. This was all rounded off with a perfectly strong cafè, preparing me for the long road ahead. We had a couple of hundred kilometres to travel, it was 15:45 when we left; we had to be in Marseille at 18:30. We said another set of sad farewells but of course we’ll see Didier again sometime… somehow…

It was round about the 1000^th roundabout that I started getting pissed off with roundabouts, and the final roundabout that broke this camel’s back was the very large one in Nimes. We were supposed to meet Marie – our new landlady – at the apartment at 18:30 but we hit peak hour traffic in Nimes, we knew we’d never make it on time. The peak hour traffic consisted of a long queue of cars waiting to enter the very large roundabout, large enough for cars to pick up considerable speed, so making an entry into that fast lane was damn near impossible. We must have been in that slow moving line leading up to the roundabout for 25 minutes or more, and that broke my back.

Now please, don’t let me be misunderstood, I love these circular interventions on the road, it removes the necessity for traffic lights and stop streets, but when you go around and around all of the time it does tend to drive one round the bend sometimes. But I do so love my roundabouts; a few less would be welcome though.

I texted Marie to notify her of our timing mishap and she was quite cool about it. She was waiting for us at Les Akolytes Restaurant on Rue des Catalans Avenue in her white Peugeot, wearing a blue dress, and she was keeping the parking spot for us which she would vacate once we arrive… Whoa, information overload! And by the way, where the hell is Les Akolytes Restaurant anyway? Be as it may, we easily found the restaurant and Marie in her blue dress next to her white Peugeot. As we approached she moved out and we slipped into her parking. Only catch was, we had to move the car by 08:00 tomorrow morning; else Marseille was going to get more expensive.

Back at the apartment we were shown the ropes and what a lovely comfortable place it turned out to be, with a lovely large balcony running along the length of the apartment. And it even comes with a sliver of sea view.

 

 

 

When we told Didier that we stayed near the beach he looked sceptical, there was only one small beach in town, and how could we be so lucky to stay close to it. And Didier should know, he knows Plage Des Catalans very well. In his younger days he was a volleyball player of note and played many tournaments on that very same beach.

 

After Marie left we opened the bottle of Rosè wine that she had left us and chilled for a while, catching our breath. Once we were breathing normally we went for a walk around a few blocks, bought some beer and had it on a bench overlooking the Plage Des Catalans, one block up from our new home.

 

 

The sun was fading fast and at this time the beach was already closed. Because the beach is in a sort of a cove the open end has railings with only one set of steps that lead down to the beach, and that gate is locked at night, probably to keep riffraff like me away.

I was tired, we were tired, and by 23:00 it was lights out in our new home…

 

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