Fireworks deferred

Castres

14 July Parade

Paris has its military parade on the 14^th July, and Castres also, probably representative of what happened in many of the smaller towns in France.

No fireworks in Castres that night as we were in the middle of a wind fierce enough to be called one. But that was indeed to our advantage. As you will see.

Photos at:

http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/Castres14July

Tour de France
20 July

Another evocation of atmosphere brought to you in the photos - the arrival of the Tour de France in Castres. We were well in advance of the predicted time of arrival and took up positions 100 metres from the finish line, in the midst of crowds that grew bigger as the afternoon advanced. Apart from the stalls selling souvenirs, there was plenty to entertain us, from short cycle races for the elite of the younger riders of the town (from 9 years up), to distribution of hats, cheese, water, chips and I’m not sure what else, to the long parade of the ‘publicity caravan’ with all its floats, and finally the arrival of the buses which support the riders.

We had a great view of the progress of the race on a huge screen not far away and a commentary from time to time. Suddenly it was all on and in a matter of seconds nearly all the riders had flashed past. I almost got a photo but not quite. Hence followed a mass exodus, during the course of which we made our way past the area where the yellow jersey and other presentations were taking place. I sort of got a photo there. And then home.

Later that night, courtesy of a friend of Noël and Lucette, we had a grandstand view (well, a balcony view, and excellent) of the fireworks that you can have after a cycle race if you didn’t have them the week before. Half an hour of ‘choreographed’ fireworks, including blue, white and red combinations, playing to a background of Edith Piaf. I even have a short video but I have chosen not to add it to the photos. You really needed to be there to appreciate the combination, I think.

Anyway, a quick browse through the photos will be enough for even the hardy (eg Warwick, for whom I took them, really).

Bonne chance!

Photos at:

http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/AtmosphereTDF

Up-to-date teaching

Sorèze - Abbaye-Ecole
17 July

In the foothills of La Montagene Noire, south west of Castres you will find Sorèze. Although it is another town with medieval components, it is not for that that we visited, but for the Abbey-School of Sorèze, an important link in the history of education in France and further afield. Just when I think I may have left schools behind me, a place like this comes out and reminds me of the importance and the diversity of education. And of the influence a person or place can have on many others.

After episodes of destruction and turmoil, more or less starting with the Normans (9^th century) and culminating in the wars of religion (16^th century), the abbey was rebuilt (again) in the 17^th century and the Benedictine monks opened a school for impoverished boys from noble families, continuing to teach, as they always had, reading, writing and religion. (Should I mention that they wanted to compete with the local Protestant Academy?) Closed to all but a few pupils for 32 years, during the course of which the monks expanded the buildings, it was reopened in 1757 after much protest at its continued closure. Under Dom Victor Fougeras, the school put in place a very innovative plan of studies, turning away from ancient languages towards the study of modern subjects such as geography and history, mathematics and foreign languages. Pupils could choose their subjects according to their ability and future career. What a concept! So successful was their reputation (based on their up-to-date teaching ideas) that within 20 years Louis XVI had named it one of the 12 royal military academies of the kingdom, designed to train future army officers. People came from far and wide to be educated here, including overseas.

Whilst some of the teaching was relevant to the military, there were also courses in religion, arts, sciences and especially sport. Horse-riding and fencing were as important as the academic subjects. Swimming, more-or-less unknown at the time, was also included.

Revolution (The French one), however, has its price, and with the dissolution of the monastic orders and the closure of military schools, the school seemed on the point of disappearing. Mais non, the school principal bought the buildings (making it now a private school) and continued the schooling. Instruction was given in French (rare at the time), maths and science featured highly, as well as the arts (drawing, painting, writing, music and dance), the skills of horse-riding, fencing, swimming and courses in fortification, as before. (I wonder if the ghost of Vauban passed by!) The swimming pool was huge. It must have been 100 metres long. The riding could be easily done in the vast grounds. Did I read 6 hectares somewhere? It has to be said that such liberalism was not without its critics and the school had more crises to get through before it stablised under Lacordaire.

However irreligious and immoral it was deemed, this curriculum continued through the 19^th century. In 1854 the Dominican order took over, under Father Henri-Dominique Lacordaire, giving the school a new breath of life. Although he was there only 7 years, dying prematurely, he had a huge influence on the students, staff and the morale of the school. He had both lay people and monks to help him and he established a third order of teaching Dominicans. Students came from all over the world. The school rolls are on the four sides of a corridor surrounding a courtyard and it is really interesting to read the names and place or country of origin of the students over the years.
The 20^th century brought its problems, not the least of which was the disappearance of monks to continue the teaching. During WWII the students were transferred to St Cyr and afterwards Sorèze became an ‘integrated’ school, to use the NZ term. Dominicans retained control until 1978 when it was taken in hand by people passionate to see it continue its life. In its last 20 years or so it was opened to girls as well but in 1991 the school was forced to close, putting an end to centuries of very special learning, whatever your political stance on such schools.
Now open to visitors and also turned into a hotel, with rooms for seminars and cultural events such as concerts, this Abbaye-Ecole is once more a centre of life and learning, at the base of La Montagne Noire.
Lacordaire : "Sorèze, c'est une Ecole où la Religion, les lettres, les sciences et les arts, c'est-à-dire le divin, le vrai, le réel, le beau et l'aimable se partagent les heures d'un jeune homme et se disputent son coeur pour jeter en lui les fondements si difficiles et si complexes d'une vie d'homme."
Some photos are of the school, but not many. The photos are of the town itself and of a couple of places we called in at on the way there and back.
The second link has a few more of La Montagne Noire area, including a tomb for 14 resistance fighters, average age about 21, and photos of Saissac with the ruins of the castle. Apparently a later one than the one Simon de Montfort sacked.
Photos at:
http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/TripToSoreze
http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/MontagneNoire

From mountain to fountain

La Rigole de la Montagne
July 15

Riquet caught my imagination at the Toulouse archives and it was with great pleasure that I began the journey of following the water from its beginnings down to the Canal du Midi.

The concept is simple: take water which is destined for the Mediterranean and lead it astray so that in the end it will flow to the Atlantic, thus creating sufficient water for the canal system. The practice is rather more complex and has been upgraded over time, by both Vauban and 20^th century engineers who have made provision for irrigation and drinking water from the same sources.

The beginning. La prise d’Alzeau, where water is first taken out of the Alzeau river into a smallish channel called La Rigole de la Montagne. A rigole is a channel. Cunningly, if there is a flood, the Alzeau just keeps on rushing down the mountainside and the rigole continues to be fed with just enough water.

Next: the dam at Cammazes. This is a modern creation which provides irrigation and drinking water but also allows for the collection and dispersal of winter flood waters. The river Sor continues below the dam. It isn’t part of the rigole system

La Voûte de Vauban. (Vauban’s tunnel) In order to improve the water supply for the canal, Vauban extended the rigole by 7.2 kilometers. But not simply by digging. Here he dug a tunnel, 

changing the course of the water from the Sor's side of the hill to the

Laudot's, thus joining the rigole to the Laudot. Ingenious, non? You 

can walk through the tunnel, which we did. It is 120 metres long, nearly 3 metres wide and rather dark in the middle, which when combined with the uneven surface makes you wary to avoid an unexpected dip. When you get to the bit where the rigole flows into the head of the Laudot there would be a massive drop of water (very destructive for the place it lands on), which has been made into a series of smallish waterfalls, first by using wooden supports and later concrete. I find all this stuff fascinating. I hope someone else reading this does too. There are photos of this series of gentle cascades.

Next we arrive at the Bassin de Saint-Férreol, which is where this lot of water is stored before moving on to the junction of the Laudot and the rigole de la plaine at Les Thomasses. Before the water actually gets to the lake, there are various mechanisms to adjust how 

much water will flow into it and how much will by-pass the system and flow on down on past the lake, (using another rigole) joining up with the Laudot beyond the dam. The lake is a great playground for water sports, cycling and walking.

Considering the dam is 17^th century, it is amazingly large and modern-looking. We didn’t go right across – It is almost a kilometre - as the wind blowing was fit to compete with the time we walked along the south coast towards the seals and my glasses were blown off my head. All very well in Wellington but not such a good idea far from home. Below the dam all was calm and we could follow the passage of the water to see where it joined with the water from the rigole de contournement. As usual, lots of ways of regulating the water flow so that it is always just right. I love it! Great places for picnics here, too. Added bonus – 

some of the water is directed to a pipe below the dam and it immediately tries to regain the height it has lost, resulting in a spectacular and continual fountain. Some practical physics lesson here.

The Sor, meanwhile, has been taking its own route, and at Pont Crouzet waters destined for the Canal du Midi are sorted from the Sors, which then continues on to flow into the Agout (the river which flows through Castres ) while the rigole de la plaine takes the water to the meeting point mentioned above. If there is too much water coming down towards the canal from the rigole, it can be diverted into the Laudot, which is about to head off on its own towards the Atlantic. If not enough, water from the Laudot will be diverted into the rigole de la plaine. And then the water is off on its journey again, down to the holding basin in Narouzes.

But that is another story for another day.

Photos at:

http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/RigoleDeLaM

Pastel and pink garlic

Lautrec

Medieval town
Capital of pink garlic (which keeps much longer than the other sorts)

Toulouse-Lautrec is now much more than a name or some paintings – he is a model in a room of models, in the little town of Lautrec, north-west of Castres. Among other things, Lautrec is known for its windmill, (17^th century, restored in 1991), which turns wheat into flour, rare in this area.

From the top of the rocky spur, above the windmill, you can see La Montagne Noire, the valley of the Agout and the Pyrénées on a good day. The medieval nature of the town is still apparent in houses, the market, church, fortified gate, ramparts. There is also a restored lavoir, where laundry was done. Who actually did the laundry varied from place to place: in the country it may have been the women of the family but as soon as the town got any size at all there were washer-women, who were paid to do this. In Paris there were 400 washerwomen on the banks of the Seine near the Conciergerie. Lacaune also had washerwomen. The frequency with which people did the washing also varied – weekly, monthly or seasonally. In these days of pushing a button it is perhaps worth a moment’s reflection. In my childhood we used a copper to boil the water for the washing and sinks to rinse it in. A transitional phase, perhaps. Not so far away.

We visited a sabotier, a clog-maker. There are a number of sabotiers around, especially in the towns which trade off their medieval nature. This one had a film running, which showed each process, with examples on the walls behind of the shoes at various stages. Interesting. A friend of Isa’s, in St Bertrand de Comminges, got her grandfather to show her the trade and now makes sabots in St Bertrand, in the shadow of the church which is on one of the routes to St Jacques de Compostelle.

This is also pastel country (the blue) and garlic country (pink). This pink garlic should last the whole year. The producers sell to the wholesalers on the lawns of Lautrec every Friday morning from July to April. I wonder if we can grow this variety! I have also included a photo of a tree, in French called tilleul, in English a Lime tree. The word tilleul is used for the colour lime, and I thought it would be interesting to see what the tree looked like. Not to be confused with the fruit, lime, which is citron vert.

Photos at:

http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/Lautrec

Pigs, school desks and a 12th Century bridge

Lacaune

July 17

Further to the east from the Sidobre and Ferrières but still in the forested, elevated area of the Protestants of the 16^th century (and later) lie the Monts de Lacaune and the town itself, Lacaune. A fascinating town to visit for La Maison de la Charcuterie, which gives the low-down on the history and modernisation of pork products made in this area and for the museum of old Lacaune.

The people had traditional rights to raise and kill pigs and thus special ways of making pork products, dating way back. The modern ‘tradition’ builds on and adapts the old ways to make a local industry in smallish factories that provide employment for a large proportion of the local people. A little like having many wineries making the same or similar wine in an area. In the old days there was an annual calendar to follow so that the meat didn’t go off and the dried products kept people fed until there was once again a further supply. Over the course of the 20^th century, the factories gradually made technical adaptations to the old methods and stayed a viable industry. That is, the factories use technology to maintain their traditions – not so impossible when you think of it. The proof is in the tasting, which comes at the end. We tasted the delicious dried ham, which is handily sold in the supermarket next door. Not cheap, I may add, but then, that will be how they stay in the market.

Second place of interest, the museum of old Lacaune, had some scary bits in it, like the school room with desks almost identical to those I used at Mamaku in the 1950’s – though we did have hinges on the seats so that they were easier to get into. To construct our future it is important to know the past, of which we are the inheritors. (Literal translation of their ‘mission statement’. Yuk! How can I remember such words!)

The museum is largely a collection of rooms, furnished traditionally, so check the photos if this is your interest. One section, however, is devoted to L’Enfant sauvage, the wild child, reference to a boy of 11-12 years who was captured by hunters at the end of the 18^th century in the woods near Lacaune. Although he initially escaped, he eventually sought refuge from the cold winter and to cut a long story short was taken to Paris, studied by a certain Docteur Itard at the centre for deaf/mutes, ‘educated’ privately, making good progress but never managing to acquire language. Doctor Itard gained world repute for his studies and these early studies were really useful for educators. The mystery of his infancy was never solved and he died in Paris, aged about 40, ‘far from the open spaces of his childhood’, as they said. For children of today there is a two kilometre walk in the woods of the wild child, in the course of which children are encouraged to use their senses – to see, touch, listen, sense, recognise, play, imagine….

Brassac

The last photos in this set are of Brassac which we visited on the way back. This is relatively close to where Chris’s friend Rémi lives. There is a cool 12^th century bridge with a small castle on each side. The castles belonged to two brothers, one a Catholic and the other a Protestant. So it was indeed possible for both denominations to live side by side in this area!

Photos at

http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/LacauneAndBrassac

Museum of Protestantism

Ferrières

The museum of Protestantism in Haut-Languedoc is situated well into the high country in the east of the Sidobre, in Ferrières, one of the stronger bastions of Protestantism during the wars of religion and after and a protestant community for 450 years without a break. The forest was large enough and deep enough to shelter the Protestants, whose daily activities were Catholic but who held risky clandestine services. The preacher would travel to the depths of the forest, together with a portable pulpit and the congregation would take their places where they could to listen to the lesson. The communion cup could be dismantled to hide its shape. Watchers were present on all sides, to avoid discovery. However, there were also strongholds, and Ferrières, with its castle, was one of these. (Actually, after the revocation of the edict of Nantes, it was used to imprison Huguenots who were caught at their clandestine assemblies, but I suppose you win some, you lose some.)

Nowadays the castle is there to see from the outside but overgrown, and the museum is up the road. Also up the road is the most amazing collection of protestant books et al, 13000, looked after as well as possible in difficult conditions, with hope of a more up-to-date home some time in the future. Lots of early Bibles. The oldest one in the museum is 1564, which is pretty early for personal Bibles.

The museum gives us displays about the resistance of the protestants in this area - and the dangers – giving a real meaning to the phrase c’est la galère (it’s really hard or awful) in the form of a model galley, to which protestants were ‘shipped’, if I may use the word. There is also on display a mirror, with a niche in behind for the Bible - the Protestants used to hide their Bible in specially-designed niches of various sorts, according to their ingenuity. Hiding in the forest was quite a skill and a ‘school of resistance’. It is interesting to note that during Hitler’s time in power, this area successfully hid a lot of Jewish children.

Because the Catholic church forbade the burial of protestants in the cemeteries, the protestant houses had, and still have, personal plots at the end of the garden, as it were.

Although the revocation of the edict of Nantes gradually suffocated Protestantism in the area, especially in the cities, this spread-out high country (up to about 1200m) covered in forest remained relatively resistant, and today has many churches, now of the Reformed Church of the 18^th century. They talk about ‘The century in the Desert’, referring to the period 1685-1787. Imprisonment, hanging, shooting, life-sentence on the galleys etc started soon after the revocation, for saying one was listening to psalms, being caught at one of the many ‘assemblies’ in the desert and for being found out not to be a Catholic.

However, the museum also gives us a look at the more positive side of the coin.

A number of churches were restored or rebuilt in the 19^th century, often subsidised by the state, and the training and salary of pastors undertaken by the state at this time. The protestant ethic is also credited for the success of capitalism in the whole region, with textiles, paper, wool and especially leather (often made from Australian sheepskins!) transforming the economy.

With such a long history of clandestine activity, this area became a natural centre for the resistance during the second world war, for people from all walks of life. The most interesting display of photos concerns the Jewish children mentioned above, girls and boys, who lived deep in the forest together with their (Jewish) scout/ girlscout leaders, who formed part of the maquis.

Footnote: Hautpoul, the mountain village mentioned elsewhere, (built up along a ridge behind Mazamet), was used as a final refuge in 1628, and remained impregnable, whilst the town below was pillaged and burnt, in yet another of these wars related to religion.

So much history in such a small area!

Photos at:

http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/MuseeProtestantisme

La Montagne Noire

Mazamet and Hautpoul

12 July

South of Castres you will find la Montagne Noire (the Black Mountain), which offers many places of interest to the passing tourist.

At Mazamet, the Maison des Mémoires (the house of memories) is said to be the best museum in France to take us through the history of Catharism in the townships and castles of the pays Occitan – broadly speaking, medieval southern France. The details of the persecution of this faith (followed by the Occitan counts), judged by the Catholic Church to be heretical, are too much to recount here but the displays are well worth the visit. The church had visiting preachers, who blessed the bread and preached to the family gathered around the fire. Suffice to say that over a long period, many people were burned at the stake and lands confiscated, for reasons that seem at the least dubious as regards faith and much more to do with the power of the Papacy. I know I am being simplistic here, so I will quietly move on. I bought a new book on the Cathars. Due to the detailed records made by the inquisition, modern historians are still able to glean more about this period, even now.

I need to mention the crusades and Simon de Montfort, as the crusaders tended to clean out the Cathars from their villages systematically, leaving little for us to see now. However, just beyond Mazamet is the medieval village of Hautpoul, built up along a rocky ridge and expanded in the 10^th century by the Cathars, a place of refuge and resistance, which was able to hold out better than most. It has a good ‘collection’ of medieval remains – castles, ramparts, old gates, beautiful walls in a fish-bone pattern, narrow, winding, steep streets – and excellent views, of course. And of course, Simon de Mountfort did manage to destroy the chateau, except for the bits we can still see today.

People moved down into the valley and set up Mazamet, which has since developed to be a much bigger town. However, during the wars of religion, Hautpoul was to come into its own again. But that story is for another day and another museum.

Photos at:

http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/Hautpoul

Le Sidobre

Le Sidobre is a range of hills to the north east of Castres and famous for its granite. Chris has a friend there and has spent many happy hours walking around the unusual formations. More of that soon. Our trip to the Sidobre included granite but went beyond, to an unusual building…

Le Pavillon d’ Adélaïde

You can still visit many churches dating from the 11^th and 12^th centuries but there are very few residences remaining. At Burlats, a small town to the north east of Castres, on the Agout River, there is just that: le Pavillon d'Adélaïde. This residence dates from the second half of the 12^th century and was part of a castle which has now disappeared. This was one of the places that welcomed troubadours, who came to sing of many things, including Adélaïde’s charms and beauty. Unfortunately for her and the family, the crusades against the Albigeois were disastrous and she lost both her husband and her only son. The castle was abandoned and fell into ruins.

With the exception of the Pavillon. This was incorporated (14^th or 15^th century) into a religious establishment and would have been thus saved, if the wars of religion hadn’t come along. So back to violence and destruction and by the 17^th century it is said to have been no more than walls. Do not underestimate, however, the value of even just walls – it was restored (18^th century) as a warehouse for a paper mill, then part of a textile factory which kept going until 1957. Abandonned once more, it was restored in 1982. And there, in one building, you have a potted history of the district, including the present-day will to safeguard the cultural heritage of a town, commune or district.

Photos at:

http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/Burlats

Granite forms

Not a lot to say about granite. Except that it is very hard. In the Sidobre there is a huge amount of it and I think it supplies all the monumental masons in France. Quarries, however, are quarries. What is unique about the Sidobre is the unusual forms that these immense rocks of granite take. Not just in the river bed, which is impressive enough, but in the forest, where you can walk from one huge form to another. The rocks balancing on each other are said to be unique.

The last few pictures are of Notre-Dame du Granit at Lacrouzette, where there are panels of granite sculpted in 1994, using some cunning combination of low-relief and shadow to make pictures all around the sides of the interior.

This is where the pictures do their own talking.

Photos at:

http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/GraniteForms

Granite factory

All well and good to quarry the stuff, but then what happens? Well, it gets transported in huge blocks to granite factories, which are kind of like sawmills, with saws of a different hardness, like diamond teeth, for example. And these days, computer controlled. Very few men in the actual factory and amazing shapes being sawn by (I guess) crazy mathematical formulae. The one we liked best was akin to a huge deck chair, exactly contoured for the average back, heated by the sun, and very hard to leave.

Again, the photos tell the story.

Photos at:

http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/GraniteFactory

Castres

10-20 July

The 20^th July was an important day for Castres. The Tour de France ended its stage there and the 14^th July fireworks, which had been put off because of high winds (three days of real wind), finished off the day for all. I had stayed longer than I might have so that I could catch the end of the race, of which more later, but there was no time lost and every day Noël took me off to somewhere new. There are a lot of very interesting things to see in the region.

Noël and Lucette, who hosted me so generously, have been to New Zealand twice and will probably get there again. Chris met me in Castres too and stayed for almost a week before he needed to head back and look for accommodation in Toulouse. He had previously stayed with Noël so was no stranger to Castres. Lucette took on the job of making sure that we had tasted the most delicious dishes of the region, or of France, for both midday dinner and the evening meal, to the extent that Chris’s belt size increased by four knotches!

One of the first things we did was visit the museum dedicated to Jean Jaurès. Every town in France seems to have at Rue, Place or Avenue Jean Jaurès. It was good to catch up on this famous socialist (born Castres 1859 for the record, so just a young man as the new Third Republic emerged). He supported the workers philosophically and on paper (articles for La Dépêche, founded L’Humanité); supported the teaching of regional languages in the early 20^th century (in total opposition to the Republican ideal of national unity by allowing only French to be used in schools and punishing the use of regional languages); was a committed pacifist and in this area threatened the nationalists so much that he was assassinated on the eve of the war (31 July 1914). After the war, which had been such a massacre for the French, many communes in France named streets and squares after him, this most fervent opposer of the conflict.

The houses on the Agout River, which were former workshops of weavers, tanners and dyers (14^th-19^th century though Castres became known for these trades in the 9^th century), have retained their exteriors for us to see today. A ride in the river boat, a replica of a 17^th-18^th century horse-drawn model used for public transport, allows you to see how the basements of these houses opened straight onto the river, for direct access to the water needed for the textile industry.The boat takes you up to a huge park (53 hectares), with a museum containing ancient finds from local sites, playparks, walks and a large aquatic centre with restaurant and café. We declined the swim but had the time for a drink in the café. Tellingly, instead of drinks and snacks, the vending machines are full of goggles, caps, moderately-priced swimsuits and swimming nappies for little ones. In many pools, speedos (not shorts), goggles and caps are compulsory.

Castres is a pleasant town, with the river flowing down the middle, a number of green parks and the outstanding Bishop’s gardens, designed by Le Nôtre in the 17^th century and impressively French in the shaped trees and hedges. For us it was a base from which to explore the area, an area rich in both variety and history. Watch this space!

Photos have a slideshow this time but are also at:

http://picasaweb.google.com/101628277989220379025/Castres