The lovely weather we had been having came to a sudden end last Sunday afternoon and by Monday morning it was still wet and grey. By lunch-tine though, we had had enough of the enforced inactivity and decided to go for a drive. We drove north along roads that we had driven before, so there wasn’t much that our guest hadn’t already seen. Not, that is, until we got to Larressingle which has the reputation of being the smallest walled town in France. The circumference is less than five hundred metres, but does have a chateau and a church surrounded by tiny houses which all back on to the ramparts. Some of the houses have been converted to small shops, although a few are still occupied. Access to the village is over a bridge that spans the moat and then though the only gate in the walls. A sudden downpour first trapped about a dozen or so visitors to the village in the gateway, all of us standing quite comfortably in the thickness of the outer walls, and then forced us to take refuge in the small café where we enjoyed some delicious crepes and coffee while we waited for the rain to stop. In fact the shower passed quite soon and we were able to wander around and even take some good pictures.
The following day, the weather-man relented and although the day started out fairly cloudy, it soon cleared up and we were glad we ad taken a chance and had set off early for Nerac, and old town some distance from here and also north of us. Nerac lies on the banks of the River Baise and was a favourite place for King Henry IV of France to visit. I think the other reason he liked it was that he was reputed to have about fifty mistresses here! It is an attractive town with more modern buildings mingling with the very old ones without detracting from their charm. The river runs through the centre, and after taking ourselves on a walking tour around the town, we went for a cruise in a large 75-seater launch. We had a delightful guide to point out everything of interest as we slowly made our way along the river and there was plenty to see. By this time the sun had come out properly and it was really beautiful, just gliding along through the sunlight and shadow.
On the way home we stopped off at a little village called Moncrabeau which calls itself the ‘Capital of Liars’.! Every year at this time they have a competition to see who can tell the tallest story, or biggest lie, if you like, and apparently people come from far and wide to listen to, and tell, the stories. We would love to go to one of the story-telling events, but our French is certainly not up to that standard by any means. As we were driving through the town, having stopped to admire the view from the centre, we passed a man with the most extraordinary hairstyle I’ve ever seen. Imagine a white man with a grey Afro and that’s what it was. Very unusual, to say the least. A few minutes later we passed a beautifully restored grain barn, in the grounds of a house, which I wanted to take a picture of, so we drove to the end of the road to turn and by the time we got back to the house, who should be walking into the grounds but Mr Afro Hairstyle! I asked him if it was his house as I wanted to take a picture, but he replied that that the owner was around the corner and his was the house beyond. While I went and asked the owner’s permission and took my picture, a strange little procession came up the road. It was a couple walking along with a dog, and pushing Junior in a pushchair. Nothing strange about that? No not really except that the man was playing the bagpipes, and not the ordinary Scottish bagpipes with the many pipes coming out of the bag. This must have been the economy version as it only appeared to have two pipes, and one of those was the one he was playing on. We left feeling that we had all experienced something just a little surreal!
Wednesday was Marciac market day again, and as Glynn hadn’t had a chance to visit one of the markets we thought Marciac was a good one to go to. At this time of year, Marciac hosts an internationally acclaimed Jazz Festival and the market gets moved out to the lake which is actually a lovely setting for it. Being holiday time in France and the Festival, everyone seemed to have made an extra effort and there were masses of stalls selling every imaginable thing. There was also a man with a pony cart giving rides up and down. Whenever they set off the man’s little fox terrier jumped on to the horse’s rump and stood balancing there while they drove. And whenever they ventured out into the road an orange flashing light was turned on that projected from the horse’s harness and stuck out above his head! What a sight.
Thursday saw us returning to Toulouse once more as it was time to say goodbye to cousin Glynn and allow him to continue on his travels. It has been a wonderful few days and we have enjoyed taking someone around to see the sights and also to have new experiences with us.
The rest of the week passed in doing normal household chores which had been shelved for some time. We have also lifted a whole lot of onions and spread them out to dry off. They look magnificent, if one can actually say that about onions. The garlic which we lifted some time ago and had hung up to dry has all been peeled and trimmed and now resembles the garlic that I am used to seeing in the supermarket. Our tomatoes are coming on beautifully and one plant has masses of fruit that should be ripening in about a week or so. Picking something that we have planted ourselves will be a first for us and we can’t wait to see what they taste like. Like tomatoes, I would say!
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