Carcassonne

Marge's windscreen was covered in ice this morning.

The dew on the grass a carpet of frozen droplets. It was more a winter scene than spring. Once again Angela coaxed her face cream out of its container. Like us it needed some warmth. Tonight's temperature is forecast to be a balmy 6c. Bliss. 

Just after nine-thirty we left. Impressive! Sarcasm Marge. It doesn't suit you. The road from Auterive ran uphill and down dale. Switchbacks added some fun. Soon we found ourselves on a faster road travelling parallel with the Canal du Midi. In the distance we could see the snow capped mountains of the Pyrenees.

A stop at a large supermarket to top up our diesel and buy a canister of camping gaz. The purchase of camping gaz is always a long winded and stressful process. Our destination was Carcassonne. A thirteenth century world of towers, turrets and cobblestone streets. We'd met some Dutch people whilst cycling along the Canal du Midi a few years ago. They likened Carcassonne to something created by Disney, which had put us off visiting in the past. But now, we thought why not? 

Aware that we were about to enter the jaws of a tourist attraction, we packed our lunch into our rucksacks, then took the mile long walk which followed the river to La Cite. The last section of the walk was a steep climb over cobbles worn smooth over time.

At the top John stopped to stretch his legs, or split his trousers!

As soon as we entered the hilltop town through its double walled fortifications with watch towers at every angle we likened it to the streets of Mont Saint-Michel. Gift shops, restaurants, cafes, ice cream parlours and shops selling cassoulet. Finding a quiet corner in the sun out of the wind we ate our lunch.

Nearby a few people took up the offer of a set lunch at twenty five pounds a person. The warmth of the sun made us want to sit a while. So we did. An azur blue sky with not a cloud in sight finished off the postcard scene. The aroma of lavender from nearby shops irritated our nostrils, causing us to sneeze. To be sure we saw the whole town we walked down narrow side streets, stopped at the church, looked over the ramparts and even in the shops.

On our return to the van, we stopped to watch a lizard sunbathe, aware of our presence. None of dare move in this stand-off.  By the time we returned to Marge we'd been away nearly five hours. Did you miss us, Marge? Don't answer that! 

Tonight, we are staying at an Aire next to a campsite. No sneaking in to use the showers. Alright Marge. We've seen the signs! It's cost us just over fourteen euros but we don't mind. The area is so touristy we just want Marge and ourselves to be safe. The Aire is not too busy. Surprisingly most of the other vans are from Belgium. Another English van came in next to us around seven, driven by a young woman in her twenties. Where was she heading all alone, we wondered. We had spent around an hour earlier trying to find out the required paperwork for us to enter Spain. We deduced we only needed to prove our Covid vaccination status. Worst case do what you normally do. Hands up in the air, shake your head, and say, 'we're English'. Good advice Marge.