We had to wait until Tuesday to even see the sun and then it
was partly clouded and didn’t last all day. Neels and our host had a jolly
‘Boy’s Morning’ playing with motor cars while our hostess and I ploughed our
way through a small mountain of washing, hoping to get it up on the line and
dried in no time at all. Sadly Mother Nature decided otherwise and just when we
had everything washed but none of it dried, the rain came down again and it all
had to come indoors.
Back to reading and doing crossword puzzles!
Having more or less resigned ourselves to more bad weather,
we were overjoyed to see the sky clearing on Wednesday morning, so had an early
lunch, leapt into the car and set off for Sauveterre de Rouergue. There were
great swathes of blue sky all around us but right ahead was an ominous black
cloud. As the road twisted and turned we kept feeling we were driving away from
it until suddenly, there it was, right on top of us! The wind was howling,
rocking our little car from side to side, as the rain turned to hail and the
hail to snow. Quite exciting but not much good for sightseeing or taking
photographs. We finally reached our destination, but it was pouring down, so we
just turned around and headed home, only to find when we got there that it was
snowing there too.
However, Thursday dawned bright and shiny as the forecasters
had said it would, so we , ever hopeful,
jumped into the car again and set off to explore. This time we went North to
Villeneuve, about 20 kilometers away. What a delightful little place it is! The
whole village has managed to keep it’s medieval look while being fully
functional as a modern town. All the buildings are stone-built and the roads are cobbled – a bit of a pain
to walk on but they look amazing. I think the trick to keeping these paces
looking old, is to have no notices which stand out from the walls unless they
are in keeping with the style, so the bakery sign will be flat against the wall
above the door instead of hanging at right angles to the wall, and so on.
After spending quite some time in Villeneuve, we came
wandering back on a very circuitous route which took us so high up into the
mountains that we could see the Pyrenees to the south, all covered in snow and
gleaming in the sun. I wonder if the myth about being able to see the mountains
will result in rain within five days, applies here too!
A day of driving deserves
a day without being behind the wheel, so instead, Neels and our host set
off on a walk that took them all around the village and lasted for about two
hours. To get back to the house, from anywhere, involves climbing up a steep
hill so I was really glad I had turned down the invitation to go with them.
Saturday was again a clear blur morning, so once the chores
were out of the way, we took off on an aimless wander. Not completely aimless,
as we had glimpsed a church steeple from the road into Villfranche, and were
quite sure it was hollow – just a framework – and determined to find it. We
thought it was at St Salvadou, but when we got there, the steeple was normal
and we decided it was an optical illusion – a trick of the light. When we
returned home and told our host, he laughed and told us that we hadn’t gone far
enough along the road and it really is a hollow steeple. Oh well, another time
perhaps. After St Salvadou we wandered on, meandering along narrow country
roads, into the Aveyron Gorge and out the other side, stopping every now and
again to get out and walk around the villages. While we were in Parisot and
just about to get back into the car and head for home, a delightful gentleman
came puffing up the hill towards us. We greeted him, as one does, and having
established that neither he nor we were residents of the village, he commented
that there are so many beautiful small villages but they are all on the tops of
the hills, which we could completely agree with. He then asked if we had seen
the Chateau at St Projet and said we should really go there as it was a very beautiful
building. He showed us where it was on the map and as it was not too far away,
we made a bit of a detour to see it. He was right; it is a very beautiful
building all in pale beige stone. The story goes that in 1585 it was apparently
a place of refuge for Queen Marguerite and her lover who was wanted by the King
of France’s armies. They spent some time here and made it their home. When they
left, the rooms they had used were walled up and were only rediscovered, almost
by accident, in 1990. As it is now privately owned, it is only open to the
public for a few months each year and sadly, March is not one of those months.
Sunday was again a rest day for the driver. We spent a lot
of the morning trying to finish off an extremely difficult quiz sent on by a
friend and then spent the rest of it sitting on the terrace in the fairly weak
sun, which was a real pleasure. Our hosts joined us out there for morning
coffee and cake and we had an idle hour or so quietly chatting or just
listening to the silence. There is masses of birdlife all around so there is
never really silence, but no cars or motor bikes; the planes overhead are so
high that one can see the jet trails but barely hear them; and even the cows
and dogs seem to take a break on Sundays. What a magical place!
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