I think I might have misnamed this blog, as our first week or so is in Céret, in the south of France near the Spanish border. We flew into Toulouse on Wednesday and stayed overnight at a motel near to the airport. To save money we walked to a local supermarket to buy bits to eat rather than eat at the expensive restaurant at the motel. Pedestrian access walking across the city was really good, something I don’t think we’ll be saying so much once we cross the Atlantic. It was also nice to have a break from the horrendous weather we’ve been getting in the UK for the past few weeks.
We got a train from Toulouse to Perpignan the next morning, to be picked up by my family staying here. The train was on time, not overcrowded and it was pleasant to watch the scenery change over a 2.5 hour journey from the more continental climate of central France to a more scrubby, dusty Mediterranean biome. Arable land gradually changes to solid vineyards as far as the eye can see. We went through Carcassonne, but couldn’t see much of the old city. Not long after leaving Toulouse, the Pyrenees begin to loom on the southern horizon. After Narbonne, near the Mediterranean coast, the train passed though the coastal lagoons which form part of the chain of ‘landlocked’ seawater lakes reaching up the French coast all the way to Marseilles. We saw our first wild flamingos here (in their ‘flamboyances’, the collective noun), which Sarah got particularly excited about.
Céret is an interesting place. It’s situated at the foothills of the Pyrenees, basically at sea level. Its main distinguishing feature as you walk around is the incredible amount of huge plane trees down each main road of the old town. Planes are common in this part of France as urban trees, usually pollarded. These are Platanus x hispanica/ Platanus x acerifolia or London plane, introduced to France in the 18th Century. Some of these trees must be getting on for 200 years old and really dominate the streets. The bark is a whiter shade than most planes in the UK – a result of more hours of bright sunlight maybe?
It also feels quite Catalan here, with flags everywhere and the occasional Catalan language sign. Historic Catalonia used to overlap into this part of France, but the French were more successfully ruthless than the Spanish in ironing out regional difference so there isn’t the fervent Catalan nationalism you get in ‘Spanish’ Catalonia.
That’s probably enough for today. We’re off across the border to Spain tomorrow – not sure where exactly yet – so will have more to report then!
JH Woodcarving 