Day out

I went back to have another look at the watermill today. I think it's very interesting but it's probably a bit small and the aspect not quite right (best side of the building is north facing).

I am also a bit obsessed with the proximity to watercourses given the change in climate patterns and the increase in occurences of flash flooding over the last ten years. A river frontage is fabulous but not when it's in your living room.

When I last visited I asked the agent about the big flood here in 1999 and he said that it didn't reach the house. After he had gone I wandered up to the Mairie and asked and was given a similar answer. So that's alright then.

After an overcast start it turned into a glorious day here today. After breakfasts and an airport drop-off I drove out to Lagrasse to meet Michael and Nicole for some lunch. As I set off the sun was just beginning to break through the clouds and mist and it was extremely beautiful in a moody misty autumnal way as I motored down the valley.

I really like this time of the year here in the Languedoc. The weather is mostly dry, the days are warm without the mad heat of mid-summer, the wine harvest is in full flow making more lovely stuff to drink next year and the colours and the countryside look magnificent.

Michael had a bit of a hangover and they were running a bit behind schedule - so lunch wasn't yet ready. I suggested we go off to look at the mill again first and then come back. I was also taken by them to meet an English lady, Anna, who has lived in the region a long time, runs a property sale website and knows pretty much everything that is going on with sales and purchases. She has given us another option to look at and also mentioned in passing "You know that the watermill had floodwater up to the first floor in 1999". Oh really - how very interesting!

By the time we got back to Lagrasse there wasn't a cloud in the sky. We ate lunch on the terrace and made plans for the week ahead before I headed back to Carcassonne to check on my guests - they were of course just knackered from spending all day up at the Cité being tourists.

So the watermill has probably been ruled out but I have two other options to look at, and photograph and measure, before I head back to the UK for a few days next week.

Wine, women, sun and sausages

I collected new guests from the airport last Thursday and then more guests and Debrah on Friday - roof down in the glorious Autumn sunshine that has since lasted all weekend - a perfect Languedoc Autumn weekend in fact.

Not only did the sun shine but the wine flowed. The 3rd 'Fête du Vin' kicked off on Thursday evening with a good dose of rock/dance music and local wine producers and restaurants teamed up together to bring, well, wine and food to the crowds gathered in the square, followed by a bangin' street party with DJ outside 'Le Conti' club on the rue Aigle D'or (Golden Eagle Street) just behind the main square. Much wine was consumed and many inhibitions shed, not by me of course - I'm far too sensible, but Lesa was dancing on a table in true uninhibited Aussie style and Brigitte was just dancing, with anyone and everyone, male and female - "I am a leetle bit drunk", she confided. 'Bien sûr', Madame La Presidente.

Chris had finished the work on Denis' apartment late on Monday night just before he left to go and shoot some wild animals in the USA. I hadn't had a chance to go in and clear up and so we went up on Friday afternoon because Denis' cousin was coming out the following day for the weekend. There was quite a bit of clearing up to do, which I expected, but I was disappointed to find one skirting board unpainted and one bathroom shelf without mastic - the result of Chris leaving it all until the last minute and running out of time. I shall have to explain to Denis when he comes out next Sunday.

Debrah and I went back into the fray of the Fête early on Friday evening and ate some deliciously sweet oysters and sampled more of the wines on offer before returning to chat to our new guests over canapes and cocktails. Bizzarely, both sets of guests come from Suffolk and live about 20 miles apart from each other - a couple of weeks ago it was Americans and Australians, this week all very close to home.

The Saturday market was a bit disjointed, what with all the wine tents and the music stage, but all the more fun for it too, with bandas playing their unique style of French brass band jollyness (not quite in time and not always the same tune but very evocative of a French town en fête). The lovely Autumn sunshine and the music and the wine seemed to bring out the warmth in everyone - it really couldn't have been a better advert for a weekend away in Carcassonne and I wish I could capture it's essence somehow to use in our own marketing and on our website.

Instead of my usual Saturday rendez-vous at Saillan, Debrah and I went out for a little drive up into the Minervois. I know I am over-playing the mellow Autumnness theme a bit, but it couldn't have been more perfect - there was virtually no breeze, the sun shone with deceptive warmth out of an azure sky, there was virtually nobody else on the road, the vines and trees were a patchwork of beautiful shades of yellow and red and brown and orange, there was the occasional whiff of woodsmoke in the air and the distinctive 'caw' of birds of prey circling above us in search of a kill.

We were on a mission to find, what Debrah had assumed, was an abandoned farm that we had passed about two months earlier on a previous drive through the area, because she wanted to take some photographs of the old iron gates. We found the farm and it's new owner, who, very kindly, not only let Debrah wander around taking photos but also showed her the old stables with the old horse names still above each stall and told us about the chateau next to the farm which was being renovated and was up for sale. Whilst Debrah was off doing her designer thing, he told me he was waiting for the local hunt to arrive for lunch - he had a fire going and everything ready for some serious butchery. He told me that last week the hunt had taken 8 wild boars and that they made sausages and stews and grills from the catch. I am actually quite sorry they didn't turn up whilst I was there - they might well have asked us to join them if their hospitality was anything like as lovely as his.

Saturday evening was a guest dinner and a bit of last minute stress about food because we were doing something untried and so timing was all a bit of guesswork. I'm the first to admit that I don't like 'winging it' when paying guests are involved and I would always like to be ready ahead of time and have everything totally planned and under control, whereas Debrah is much more a last minute sort of person, or even "I'll do it tomorrow", which of course wouldn't be any good for clients waiting for their dinner. There was a small falling out and a few harsh/cross words and a bit of a rush but as ever what was put in front of our guests was both delicious and beautiful and this morning both couples thanked us for a lovely dinner and very entertaining evening.

So we missed the last night of the Fête, but not to worry because today was the second day of the 'Ronde de Malepere', a two day wine festival in the wine region of that name to the south and west of Carcassonne, which this year was held in the village of Alairac. At the airport last week they had been handing out invitations including a voucher for a free glass (usually €5) which then entitled one to free tasting at all the producer stands. One hour and ten producers later we were a bit confused by the tastes and aromas we had sampled and desperately needed the plate of 'saucisse and frites' that we found at the grill run by local ladies, who fussed around us cleaning the table and bringing us bread and mustard and telling us about the duck fat that the chips were cooked in - bless them for their lovely hospitality.

We sat under the plane trees and sobered up with the protein and carbs before stroking the noses of the two horses that were tethered just outside and then heading back to Carca for an airport run and new guest check-in and an afternoon lie down.

We had forgotten that we were having sausage and potatoes for supper as well - but that didn't stop us wolfing them down too - sometimes it's just right.

Looking Ahead

Today seemed to disappear in a blur without me knowing why or how - suddenly it was time to start prepping dinner for the guests and the day had gone.

But what a day - not a cloud in the sky and the temperature in the upper twenties - a perfect Autumn day in the Languedoc - which meant that I meandered about the market for maybe longer than I would have done normally and lingered for a coffee and watched the world go by for a bit and was then persuaded (not with any great difficulty) to return for lunch at Bar Felix.

It was the sort of day and the sort of lunch that was just going to be me but ended up being me and Richard and Janet and then Gary and Tom and Cathy and then Susan and then Patrick and another Tom, fresh off the Shannon flight. It was civilised and relaxed and lazy - we all lingered about an hour longer than we had intended, partly because it seemed to take that long to get the bill and pay it!

I wasn't looking forward to the dinner with guests this evening. I think that I am coming to the end of my season and I need a break from it too - so in a way, I am happy that we don't have any November bookings at the moment. I am feeling like it has been a long summer slog of entertaining and I think I will welcome a couple of weeks without it before we get to Christmas and New Year.

As ever though I gave my all for my guests this evening and they seem to have had a lovely stay here and enjoyed dinner tonight - hurrah for that. After dinner they wandered out to have a look at the Cité illuminated by it's lights and also, tonight, by a very bright and beautiful full moon. How sweet.

Looking ahead, our new website went live today and it looks fantastic - well done Debrah for another piece of inspired creative magic. The new site features more information and more fabulous photography and next years prices - hopefully everyone will have recovered from the banking/recession crisis soon and start booking up next years dates. Fingers crossed.

End of Summer

All of a sudden Autumn is upon us - the mornings suddenly seem darker longer and the evenings a lot shorter. I know these things don't just change suddenly but it does feel like that.

Maybe it's the change in the weather - from French summer to English summer apparently, i.e 18 degrees not 28 and constant showers rather than blue sky - or maybe it's because the schools are back and the daily street noise now revolves around drop-off and pick-up times at the school next door - or maybe it's because the first mushrooms and pumpkins have appeared at the market alongside the plums and pears that popped up a couple of weeks ago - or maybe its because the grape harvest (vendange) has started (apparently the harvest will be small but the quality should be high - due to the drought and sunshine since the beginning of June)

Actually I am quite looking forward to poached pears instead of roast peaches and pumpkin soup instead of melon salad and a good casserole instead of chicken breast - but I don't wish them upon us too quickly - I am hoping we might still get an Indian Summer as we have had for the past two years that I've been here.

When I ventured down to the market at 7.30am this morning the difference was palpable - the stalls on the corner were piled with ceps and girolles for the first time this year - most of the market stalls were still in the process of setting up, when a couple of weeks ago they would all have been in place at 7.00am and I was wearing a long sleeved shirt and jeans instead of a t-shirt and shorts.

I like the changeover points between fruits and vegetables - do you stick with the outgoing which is now very cheap but just past it's best or do you plunge in for the new exciting stuff that you haven't eaten for 10 months even though it is still a bit pricey?

As we wandered the market on our second visit of the day, we came across 'the smelly tomato man', as Debrah sometimes refers to him, out of affection it must be said. He clearly lives for his vegetables and personal appearance and hygiene are definitely not as important to the welfare of his 'children' - today we watched as he caressed and then presented to a client a pumpkin, with all the care of a mother holding a new born babe. You have to admire such dedication and love.

It was an unusual Saturday because I had a client changeover and so missed my usual Saturday lunchtime gathering at Cafe Saillan and was cleaning and ironing instead. As is always the way my new clients didn't arrive until gone 4.00pm and so I would have had ample time for a quick swing by the bar and a bit of handshaking and cheek kissing.

My new guests are on honeymoon - aahh - and are also my first genuine bona fide American visitors because they have flown all the way from America to be here, rather than just channel hopping from the UK - and they are so young too to be all married.

I hope they have a long life together in peace and harmony - the last bit won't happen but if they work at it and are determined then the first bit will. You have my best wishes.

Meanwhile we have started closing the windows in the evening and have a put a heavier duvet on the bed and had cassoulet for supper - looks like the summers over.

Long Weekend

I am back in Carcassonne after my weekend of family fun! Everybody just about held it all together but I am thinking only just - I did call one of my sisters-in-law a 'bitch' at one point, but I was leaving the room and maybe it was out of her earshot (although Debrah assures me it probably wasn't - oh well) - I really don't think she's a very nice person so I am not that bothered about it.

I feel a bit sorry for my other sister-in-law because she recognises how hard it is to please my mother and what a strong 'matriarchal' influence she imposes and because she really has tried very hard to fit into our difficult family. On the first afternoon she was very jolly and chatty and out to enjoy the weekend, but she gradually seemed to retreat into her shell, as I guess we all did under the withering glare, which was a shame.

Debrah wasn't exempt and was extremely upset by some of my mothers unnecessary comments about clothes or hair or behaviour. Debrah was brilliant this weekend and I couldn't have done it myself without her and without the girls. We stuck together as a little support team for each other. It would have been ideal to have have been just the four of us away - or five, if we could have got Christian involved too.

It was so good to see my daughters again - it has been too long - and I am so proud of them and the lovely young ladies that they have grown up to be. Amy is just about to start her final year at Lancaster and Isabel is just going off to find herself at Leicester - good luck to you both and hopefully we will see each other again sooner rather than later.

The part played by Anna and Aib, our hosts for the weekend, should not be under-estimated in the slightest. I would go as far as to say that without them the weekend would have been a disaster - I can't wait to see you both again in more relaxed circumstances, which we will do soon as it is Anna's birthday in a few weeks time.

A highlight of the weekend was the wine tasting given by Alex Hall on Saturday evening before dinner. We tasted six wines in total, with mixed results on my part when it came to recognising what I was tasting - the more I learn, and I learned a lot on Saturday, the less I seem to know! It was, though, a great privilege to be afforded the chance to taste a young 2005 St Emilion, which will age wonderfully and comes from one of the best vintages ever, apparently, and an 18 year old St Estephe, from another great vintage in 1990, that would set you back £300 in a restaurant today. Both were fabulous.

It is wine harvest time and that means that the Autumn is on it's way. We awoke this morning in the Dordogne to a heavy dew and mist in the valley but the prospect of a gloriously hot clear blue sky day - mellow fruitfulness indeed. Also, perfect conditions for the development of noble rot on grapes and the wonderful transformation into a golden nectar late harvest dessert wine - I told you I had learned a thing or two recently.

Back here in Carcassonne, the mobile 'fauconnier' introduced last year is already patrolling the streets - another sign that Autumn is upon us - the poor starlings are being scared away before we have any chance to see a display from them - what a shame.

My new guests have arrived - a mother and daughter from Australia. They dropped a couple of surprises on me - not forwarded on by the travel agent in Australia that made the booking. Luckily I am not phased by the late arriving information of no wheat or seafood or peppers in their diet, and not just because of dislike but because they are allergic. I will cope thanks to the wonderful array of produce available here in the fantastically fertile Aude valley and because at 42rvh we can cope with anything.

Even family.

Autumn

It was a beautiful Autumn weekend. The sun shone brightly and warmly during the day and the clear blue sky became a fabulous backdrop, bringing out the best of the Autumn colours of the fields and vines and trees.

I took the car out for a run, letting it stretch it's legs beyond the ten minute trips to the DIY stores that are it's usual outings during the week. I drove up to Montolieu and from there over the top of the hill down to Fraise Cabardes, back down the valley to Aragon and then across the north of Carcassonne to pick up the Canal du Midi and finally around the back of the Cité. Roof down and shirt sleeves, naturally.

From the hill above Montolieu you could see the entire valley stretched out below and across to the towering peaks of the Pyrenees, showing faintly in the distance. The church on the peak at Montreal was clearly silhouetted above the patchwork of orange and yellow and red and brown fields before it, and the massive frame of Mont Canigou, a few traces of the first snow on it's topmost slopes, loomed menacingly out of the haze, looking much closer than it actually is.

Just outside Aragon I came across a massive buzzard sat on a tree branch next to the road. No more than five metres from me it hunched it's shoulders down before releasing it's massive wingspan, showing flecks of white on the underside, and gliding off lazily towards a new resting place where it wouldn't be disturbed by a noisy clattering old Audi. Despite it's closeness and it's languid movement, it was still away before I had a chance to stop the car and get my camera in hand.

At the Canal there were at least signs of activity - people out for a Sunday afternoon stroll along the towpath. Who can blame them. At this time of year the plane trees on either side of the Canal are bright yellow and lights dance across it's surface where the sun penetrates any gaps between the trees. There is a distinct lack of canal traffic though which I find bizarre - it must be a beautiful time of year to meander along the canal - maybe it is just a bit cold at night on a boat on the water.

There is one view of the Cité that is always in all the guide books and on the posters. It is a view looking down onto the walls and turrets across fields of vines and it is not an easy place to find because the vines are private land. But found it I have. There is a little lay-by on the ring round to the south of Carcassonne - park there and wander up the hill a bit at the dge of the vine field and the classic Carcassonne Cite view unfolds below. Yes, technically it is trespassing.

By late afternoon, back at home and the sun is already beginning to fade. The starlings gather in their thousands and swoop and dive in massive swirls above the rooftops - a prelude to their winter migration and both mesmerising and slightly scary at the same time. It is time to close the windows, change from shirt to T-shirt and jumper and get the casserole on the oven.

Just when I was planning the week's work and thinking about a quiet evening in front of a film, Chris pointed out a problem that appeared to be developing in the office where new ceiling meets old. The new plaster put up by the Poles last week was cracking away from the ceiling as it dried which either means that it hasn't formed a bond with the old paint or, more scarily, the new ceiling boards are dropping slightly on their frame, which might mean taking down and fixing - what a complete and utter pain in the neck that will be. We decide we will inspect it in the morning - not before a lot more cursing about Alison and Graham, the useless builders who have caused more trouble than good as a result of their work and who put this bit of ceiling in place. In their case we certainly didn't get what we paid for.

Certainly wiped the smug Autumn smile off my face and helped focus me on the week ahead.