Castles, Cheese, and 'Super-Sheep'

We had planned explore the countryside surrounding Trausse where there are lots of famous walking tracks and historical buildings but because of the raging wild fires (which are still burning) access to the forests was banned.

Here in England with the cooler weather we grab the opportunity to walk.  Of course most of the castles and churches here are in ruins due to age, the vikings, the hundred years war or the rampaging Henry VIII. 

About 3 miles southeast of Middleham is the amazing Jervaulx Abbey. It was one of the great Cistercian abbeys in Yorkshire. It was dedicated to St Mary in 1156. It's the only privately owned abbeys in England... but more of that story in a later post.

At the height of its prosperity the abbey owned half of the valley and was renowned for breeding horses, still a Middleham tradition. It was also the original home of the famous Wensleydale cheese which was originally made with ewes' milk. 

We haven't had time to visit Wallace and Gromit (Cheese! Gromit!) yet but we did get to explore the abbey. We go early to all of these places before the crowds come - although to be fair Europe is VERY quiet.  In France it was the heat, fires and threat of war.  I'm not quite sure here.  Maybe the school holidays aren't in full swing yet.

It was incredible to sit in the midst of this huge abbey listening to the baaing of Swaledale sheep.  The first thing you’ll notice about these sheep (usually while they are standing in the middle of a road refusing to move) is the face. It's jet black, but famously broken up by white 'spectacles'  around the eyes and a white muzzle. Their heads look exeptionally large as they have just been shorn. 

They are remarkably nimble. You’ll often find them balanced on limestone pavements or tucked into 'bields' (natural stone shelters) under crags during a blizzard. While other sheep are busy dying in the first frost, the Swaledale is busy digging through six inches of snow to find a fresh patch of heather.

Farmers take the hardy Swaledale ewe from the hill and cross her with a Bluefaced Leicester ram. The result is the Mule - a hybrid "super-sheep" that combines the mother’s toughness and 'will to live' with the father’s ability to produce multiple lambs and better quality wool.

Enough of sheep and back to the abbey...

I'm always amazed by how many stories there are and how they survive. There's a long complicated tale about how in 1279 Abbot Philip of Jervaulx was murdered by one of his monks. His successor, Abbot Thomas, was initially accused of the crime, but a jury determined that he was not to blame, and another monk fled. 

After the abbey we have a serious task to undertake... visitors are coming and its our task to check out the local eating places.  First stop the Richard III - an historic 16th century coaching inn in the centre of Middleham.  A great place to watch the horses go by - oh and to catch a few minutes of internet connection.

 

Ey Up! We're in Yorkshire!

After all the kerfuffle with the car hire people, we arrived in Middleham at 9.00pm on a Sunday night! Very quiet!  Lovely village and Foxglove Cottage (1st picture on left) is just gorgeous.  Boy oh boy those flights of stairs up to the top floor are going to keep us fit.

Managed to find an Indian Restaurant open in nearby Leyburn.  Delicious authentic Indian food Another beautiful village. Every village is different and has a claim to fame. Here it is that the castle that the house faces onto belonged to Richard111.  More on that later... 

Oh and don't panic everyone, I haven't fallen over, I'm a slow blogger because of lack of internet.... finish this soon!

My mother's village Dore, was famous in Anglo-Saxon history as the site where King Egbert of Wessex was accepted as overlord by the Northumbrians in 827 AD.  In effect the first 'English" king. Just as in this village we were woken each morning by the sound of horses hooves on the cobblestones. Here though the hooves are those of thoroughbreds. There are around 500 inhabitants of the village and over 600 horses!

In front of us are the castle walls and behind us the stables of Simon Kent where race champions are trained.  Olivia and Simon are firends of Jill and like everyone else in the village give us a cheery good morning and offers of help.

The Route du Soleil

The Route du Soleil is a beautiful road through the French countryside unfortunately on the day we are travelling it is the Bison Futé - Great Exodus - a RED ALERT for slow holiday traffic. Everyone is travelling to the Spanish border.  A major accident added to our woes BUT we got there.  We dropped the car back and hopped onto the local train to Toulouse.  OMG it was PACKED.  

On the train was one of those gut wrenching situations. A toddler in the seat in front was screaming,  His mum was on the phone. Every now and then she noticed him, got exasperated and to my amazement hit him.  On the platform, I'd chatted with the people around me ]but when I looked at them wondering what to do, they just shrugged. It was so awful. I had strawberries with me and thought of offering them to him quieten him down but then I was worried he might be allergic to them. Oh was my French was up to the nuances of this situation? Definitely not.  I felt terrible. So did everyone else BUT no one said anything. I hope that if I'd been in an English speaking environment I would have spoken up!

We  tumbled off the train into the fabulous Gare de Toulouse Matabiau and across the Canal du Midi to our hotel... which had air con and a lift!!! Great guy on the reception who recommended a 'funky' restaurant. It sure was... great food and atmosphere.

Next morning a walk along the Canal du Midi and its Au Revoir to France for yet another year.

We usually get the Eurostar to London but this year we are going to Manchester and so we decide to fly ... big mistake!  For one it is triple the price  but that's not all!  We arrive at the airport at 9.30 for our 13.30 flight. Much too early we think! Two hours later we manage to check in! Then off to security... another hour waiting in line.... then to customs - another hour. Of course the plane was delayed because none of the passengers could get on.  

We were wedged between the Rugby teams who had played a competition in Toulouse. Totally unconcerned they said  Yeah it happens everytime we fly. One of the player Paul Vaughan, (Australian Rugby player - think Australian team, NSW State of Origin) kept us amused with his laconic comments.

AND yes Ryan air customers do still clap and cheer when they land!!

So to Manchester where we had a gruelling time picking up our car (which actually is pretty flash especially after the grotty manual car we had in France). Then off through the golden fields to the cottage at  Middleham.

 

Les Jeudis de Béziers Allées Paul Riquet

I must say the French do know how to enjoy life!  Our 'friends' from the street kept saying don't worry it will be okay - it's Jeudi.  Ok its Thursday - what's so good about that!  Well we find out, 200 yards away is the magnificent plaza - Allees Paul Riquet.  We discover they have something happening there everyday and evening. On Thursday nights it's the Food and Wine Festival.  How good is that! During the two days we are there we enjoy a fabulous Vide Grenier and Art Show.  Oh and yes the food and wine were terrific!

Our final night was the concert at the Theatre des Varietes... it's worth looking up on line. Truly magnificent venue... the music... a rather limp Vivaldi... how is that even possible!

 

Dramas at the Théatre des Variétés

Hello again.... No we haven't had any dramatic moments that have stopped me blogging - just no internet or phone for a while.  Think I might have it sorted now (internet pub and cafe!)  We have had a few dramas though - well that's travel isn't it.  

We left Trausse Minervoir for a beautiful hour long trip through the French countryside to Béziers.  The magnificent Cathédrale Saint-Nazaire beckoning us through the traffic jams, one way systems and preparations for the massive Béziers Feria which happens every August.  I can't believe they still have bullfighting and how popular it is.  But that's another story.  

We eventually found where our apartment should be - overlooking the magnificent Theatre where we will go to a performance tomorrow. But where was it.  No one on the street had ever heard of the Loge du Theatre. It wasn't a very long street.  Everyone started to help.  Xavier from the local hotel managed to call the owner. Oh its the nameless blue door.  Simple just add the code and get the keys.  Code?  Oh yes 'desole' he said and sent it again.  An hour later success we had the apartment and the keys.  Up the stairs... its France of course there are stairs! Keys in lock... nothing happened. Frantic phone calls.  Someone on the way.  An hour later Mikael (owner)  tells Xavier to shoulder charge the door and we are in. Everyone is happy!  Well after two hours in the sun and a dubious lock on the door I'm not sure happy is the right word for me. 

The next two days are spent with lots of 'bonjour Monsieur, Madame and lots of Ca Va's and offers of help.  The apartment is beautiful and yes it does overlook the wonderful Theatre. We book a quiet day cruising along the canal du midi for the next day.  Think we need some chill out time.

Faire La Fête

 

For such a small village what a turn out!.... Such a great evening.... Music, dancing, food and lots of great company. Missed Erin and Milton but great to catch up with everyone else!

Of course the following day was La Fête nationale française or Bastille Day.  

The Flags of the Minervoir which usually fly on the Tour and pretty much everywhere else are taken down and the French flag raised.  It's a much more sober affair although they did serve wine and raclette at 1.00am!!!  It was actually very moving to here the Maire speak and we all sang La Marseillaise led by four primary students and of course led by the local brass band.  It was strangely moving.  Especially as Jessica Servet is so vibrant.  The pompiers (fire brigade) stood bravely in the 38 degree sun in their heavy uniforms while Jessica acknowledged each one of them for their efforts to quell the horrendous fires we have had. 

We were supposed to walk to the cemitiere to honour those who died in the war (like anzac day) but it (like many other events) was cancelled because of the intense heat.

So with a shower of 'Bonne fête nationale !' and 'Joyeux 14 Juillet !' we made our escape to air con.  For us it was sad as we were not sure when or where we would see everyone again...Oz, UK, France?  Who knows.  Our trips are always such a flurry of hellos and goodbyes!

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Les petits villages de France sont pleins de fantaisie.

 There's no doubt the little villages of france are quirky.  Here are a few examples.

Villages love displaying residents' views and artworks on their walls.  These are from one of our favourite villages Siran...about ten minutes from where we are staying.  I particularly like the one of the nun that is posted on the convent wall... unfortunately brings back memories for me!

Dogs that wee on the gardens are not popular here unlike Australians who are usually welcomed. with a certain awe! How do you cope with snakes, sharks, spiders, crocodiles and of course rampaging kangaroos.  A Paul Hogan smile is I guess the only answer.