Bounded out of bed with
a view to having a decent breakfast at last, so after quickly getting
dressed and looking more agreeable, I gambolled across the village
square to present my self at the shop for lashings of fresh bread,
butter and jam.
The shop was closed.
I’m not sure I’ve
ever been more disenchanted at the prospect of being fresh breadless
than I was that disappointing morning. So with a heavy heart I headed
back to the gite and attacked yesterdays stale, dry bread with as
much enjoyment as I could muster, which was precisely none.
So after breaking bread
in the least satisfactory way possible, we piled all our stuff into
the tank and headed into the wooded wilds of Aude. First of all we
stopped at a paper mill, in fact the only
working paper mill left in the region, down from the 67 along this
stretch of water in 1845. This moulin, which is located near the
village of Brousses and settled along the banks of the river in the
valley of La Dure., still produced hand made paper using the power of
the water to drive its machines.
We were predominantly
here because Sarah had expressed a keen interest in going to it, and
as it happens, our arrival coincided with its opening. So as the only
people there we had a small chat with the guy who opened up, and
then, Sarah having decided against it after all, as it looked ‘a
bit boring’, mooched around amongst the tourist pamphlets eyeing an
opportune moment to make our escape with the least amount of
embarrassment. In the end we just decided to leg it, and with nary an
au revoir hanging in the air, we made good our escape.
Next up was a moulin of
a different kind, this one was of the wind variety. The Moulin à Pech Rouzaud, situated near the
village of Villeneuve-Minervois, it is almost 200 years old and was
restored to its current state of perfection in 2001. This area
abounds with windmills, most of them in ruins, because due to its
position it is fairly breezy for most of the year. They also have
their fair share of modern windmills now, the turbines that harvest
the wind for energy.
Again, the only reason
we were here was because Sarah had requested, no, insisted that we
come, so as we parked up, and again as we were the only ones here, we
attracted the attention of the guide behind the desk. Sarah then
pulled out her camera and started taking some crafty pictures of the
mill. I knew exactly what was going on here, get some pictures
without paying the entrance fee and then swiftly depart.
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| The Moulin with sails up, thanks to our ever vigilant guide |
It was time I put my
foot down and made a stand, actually it was time I put both my feet
down to correctly make a stand, so that is what I did. And my stand
was indeed both accurately accomplished and well placed, as we spent
the next couple of hours learning all about windmills in a most
interesting fashion. Apart from an introductory film about how the
windmill was restored, which was both boring, and in French, but would
have been equally as boring, perhaps even more so, if we could have
understood it. So after about 5 minutes we decided to leave the
plinky plonk music and regional craft fair like programming behind and
request the tour start proper.
The rest of the tour
though was great, the young lady who showed us around had a pretty good
grasp of English and was extremely knowledgeable about the history
and workings of the mill. She set up the sails and got them turning,
which she seemed more than happy to do, but it did feel a bit wrong
to be standing around while this petit mademoiselle was moving these
sails around, which must have weighed a ton. She showed us how the
wheat was ground and all the different grades of flour, how it was
sieved and all manner of windmill based shenanigans. She also hung
around without complaint while we took endless pictures of the
windmill and vineyards it sits amongst. Then after all that we had a
bit of wine tasting, and learnt all about how the wine tastes
different depending on where it is matured and in what temperatures
etc. So well worth the entrance fee to be sure, and well worth
leaving a tip for a very enjoyable tour, which we didn’t.
 |
| Moulin with picturesque cart and path |
By this time we were
ready for lunch, so after stopping in a couple of places and deciding
to go to neither of them for reasons that escape me, we then spent
far too long driving through village after empty village in the hope
they might have a rustic café we could make use of, but they seemed to have been in short supply. So after about 2 hours we ended
up in La Liniviere and had a well deserved feed. Afterwards we
stopped to get a few shots of the vineyards just outside Cannes
Minervois The minervois region being real grape
country, specialising in rich red wines.
 |
| Vines leading off towards the Black Mountains |
 |
| These vines, although small are over 100 years old |
Had a quick look at a
13th century church in Centelles which looked suitably
ancient, but is still in good repair and occasional use. Before
heading towards Minerve, classed as one of the
‘Most beautiful villages of France’. This medieval town is built
next to the Brian gorges, which in turn were created by the Brian
waters. Who this Brian is I haven’t the faintest, but he did a
cracking job as the scenery is lovely.
Had a wander through
the old streets under the baking heat, this was the hottest day so
far, every incline, and there were a lot, seemed to produce a
fountain of perspiration from my brow, and every piece of shade was
readily used, even for a moment, to get a respite from the pounding
heat. It did give us the excuse to have an ice cream though, which
was much appreciated. So after an hour or so of soaking my camera
with my face sweat, we climbed back up to the car and carried on our
way.
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| The fabulous Brian Gorges, with the Brian waters far below (out of sight). Good old Brian. |
 |
| A view of the amazing bridge, which is closed to traffic, as all beautiful bridges should be. |
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| The 11th century roman style Church of Saint Etienne with boisterous clouds above. |
 |
| Sarah posing next to Brian's finest. OK the gorge was also carved by the river Cesse, but Brian gets my vote |
Next we stopped at BizeMinervois, another attractive
town, with its fair share of small, difficult to negotiate, dead end
roads, many of which I managed to find in our brief visit. So after
trying to back out of another road to nowhere and managing to stick
it straight into a wall, despite my reversing sensors, which can’t
have been working of course. I decided I’d seen more than enough of
Bize bloody Minervois so took the decision to carry on.
After an age we arrived
back at the gite for a quick comfort break and then barrelled to
Saissac again, in the hope of getting a decent shot of the castle,
but it was not to be, it was all in shade. So we contented ourselves
with a fine looking pizza each. Well we would have if the pizza place
had been open, but as it turns out, it was closed on Tuesdays. Seeing
as this pretty much exhausted Saissac’s gastronomic offerings and
it was about 9pm we jumped back in the car and headed back to the
gite, in the hope that the local bar was still serving something, if
in fact, it was even open.
Luckily for us it was
not only open, but so was the kitchen, I had a plate of charcuterie
to begin with and then a dish of pasta and Roquefort for main, and it
was delicious, plus very reasonably priced, so what with that and a
carafe of some decent plonk, it was a rather good end to the day.
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