Pay No Attention To The Voice In The Box

margie in france!
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Thursday, September 27.

The rain has stopped. The sky is still grey and angry looking, but I decide to drive to Chateau Peyrepertuse and Queribus, southeast of Trebes and into the edges of the Pyrenees Mountains that border Spain. The wind is still strong and I don’t know how to dress, so I layer myself and pack an extra bag, my maps, and a lunch.

Well, yes, it IS the shortest way, but...

I take the “shortest” GPS route, and meander through a fertile valley, a patchwork of vineyard stripes, hills dotted with olive trees, light green grassy fields, and squares of yellow grain. It’s very agricultural, and I putt putt behind a couple of tractors and slow wagons. I don’t mind, I’m not in a hurry. I really enjoy driving through the tiny villages on the single track roads. I begin to see a pattern with every village I approach: about ½ mile outside of the town the road is suddenly lined with massive old trees intertwined at the top creating an arbor to drive through. It’s very welcoming. The roofs of the houses are red tile, and the fields are lined with tall slender cedars. It looks more like I would expect Italy to look. The most exciting moments are crossing the single lane bridges which you sometimes have to blindly enter before you can tell if someone else is driving toward you! It gives me butterflies. I hope everyone else is driving as carefully as I am.

I could see what was coming on THIS single lane bridge
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I steadily climb out of the valley on a wavy paved single track road that switchbacks its way up the mountain. Some of the turns are almost 180 degrees. As I continue to go up, the rows of grapevines are changing colors to vivid fall reds and golds and the trees are shorter and scrubbier with dainty ash green leaves. I have my window down and it smells so clean, like fresh rain and wet dirt. There aren’t many places to pull off and take pictures, but I take a couple out the window of road signs that will make you laugh. One is a “!”, which I suppose means “pay attention”, and the other is a picture of a “sheep” (that’s pretty self explanatory!). I probably could stop in the middle of the road, I’ve only passed one car in the last hour. I started out on D3, but the roads change numbers often. The last village I passed was Rieux-en-Val.

What do you think this means?
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I turn onto D23 and pass within 3km of Lagrasse, but that is not my destination today, and I want to get to and from the high mountains while it is still light. Now it’s much greener here, the whole valley and hillside are covered with trees, just like the Aspen cover the Colorado mountainsides. There are long needled pines, the first I’ve seen, and the bushes are scrubbier and thorny. I stop at the top, and the wind is just howling across this ridge, folding the grasses over and whipping my neck scarf like a flag. I’m amazed that I have come from a flat, quiet valley to a wild highland in 30 minutes.

the cobblestone path to Villerouge-Termenes
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I pass signs for Villerouge-Termenes, which sounds familiar, so I turn into the parking lot. I wonder if the “rouge” has anything to do with the ground here, which is dark red like terra cotta. This is the first sight I have visited with directional and informational signs beginning in the parking lot, AND in English too. Ah, this is the site where the last Cathar, Guilhem Be’libaste was burned at the stake in 1321. He only lasted so long because he had fled to Spain, and was lured back to France by a bounty hunter with the temptation of inheriting land from a relative in France. (It was all a ruse to collect the bounty money). The cobblestone path takes me past gardens, rocky foundations and steps that lead to nowhere. It is utterly charming.(I discover that it’s closed between 12 and 2, so I eat lunch in my car). The castle has been completely restored, and it is so interesting to see the wooden beamed ceilings inside, the wooden staircases, the painted and decorated walls. I always think of the castles as having been cold, hard stone; musty, damp and uncomfortable. But the walls are hung with heavy tapestries, and it is clear that if you had the wealth to own a castle, you had the wealth to make it inviting and comfortable as well. For 7 euros I get an automated audio guide that picks up the signal in each room I enter. The only confusing part is the order in which to go. Some of the audios are longer than others, and when you enter a room, it picks up wherever the presentation is…middle, end, whatever. I decide to go in the order that pleases me. This is worth visiting. There is also a guide to the village and the church, but I think I don’t have time.

the gate to Villerouge
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My GPS sends me past a sign pointing to Peyreperatuse and turns me left onto a narrow paved path. Hmmm. The drive is wonderful, but when it turns into a gravel road, I start to worry. I give it 10 more minutes before I turn around. It has turned to dirt, grass is sprouting down the middle and it doesn’t look like it’s been driven on lately. I later look at my map and it looks like a 4 wheel drive or extended walking trail…a tiny little dotted line. Well, yes, it IS the shortest way, but… I can see I can’t trust the GPS to make all final decisions! It’s like the “great and powerful Oz”, beware the man behind the curtain (or in this case, the female voice inside the box). I have found myself lately, arguing with it (“no, I don’t want to turn left there, get over it”). I backtrack to the signed road, and it takes me up over a pretty high pass and I am happy to pass several other cars. I can still imagine me driving along that dirt road bordering some precipice…gives me Goosebumps. The mountains are changing from rounded to pointed, and I can see massive rocky outcroppings in the distance. The sun is coming out! Way up on top the chiseled stone takes shape, I see Peyrepertuse. It looks just like it was hewn from the very mountain itself. This and Queribus were the last strongholds to fall in the heretic crusades, (in the mid 1200’s) and I can see why. It is an impressive and powerful presence. I take lots of pictures, but I’m not sure they will convey what I see. This ruin rises up off the ridge at 700 meters, and it seems impossible that it was ever captured. I get as close as I can, but I don’t have the day to hike it, as planned. I keep driving on D14 and pass Queribus on my way to Cucugnan and Maury.

Example of painted walls-Villerouge
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I drive home the “faster” way, which are still rural roads, but have lines for two way traffic. There are gorges carved here by the Aude River and its tributaries, and signs advertise rafting, canoeing and rock climbing. There is a famous gorge called Gorges de Galamus, which I am very close to, but it is marked as “very dangerous driving” and after my earlier adventure, I pass. I do drive through some sort of gorge, though, on D117 toward Quillan, and it’s plenty exciting! The walls of rock are close on either side of you, vaulting straight up, with outcroppings hanging over your head in an arch. In some places the road barely fits in the crevice that passes through the gorge. The road goes right through the rock in some places where they have blasted holes to make an “doorway”. It is massively beautiful and makes me feel puny.

Peyrepertuse in the distance as I approach
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Quillan seems like a good size town, and it’s encouraging to see people walking about. It would probably be a good base for hiking and rafting in the summertime. I make good time home, and since it’s almost 7pm, I detour to La Cite’ (Carcassonne) for dinner. I stop at the best Western’s Hotel le Donjon, which is right in the walled city, for a glass of Blanquette de Limoux brut (my new substitute for more expensive champagne). The lobby is elegant, with comfy red velvet armchairs and polished wooden tables. It’s also full of people, and the cocktail server looks exhausted. Most of the bars in La Cite’ are either outside, or inside with not much ambiance. I guess I am not the only one trying to escape the ever present lightly falling rain. I eat at Au Compte Roger, inside, which is also elegant, but not frou-frou. The tables are set with peach tablecloths, crystal and linen napkins wound in a silver spiral bracelet. Voices are hushed in private conversations, and it is just what I need for the end of my heart thumping day of driving and discovery.

Peyrepertuse perched up on the 700m ridge of rock
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Home at last, it’s the first day I’ve had to turn on the electric heaters downstairs. As for upstairs, I fling the windows open wide to let the cool night air in, and sleep like a baby.