On The Via Domitia: A Christmas Tale (among others!)

Christmas even comes to the south of France!

Much merrymaking to you

It's that crazy holiday time of year, and we're a little behind on the blogging. But, we're not going to let that stop us from wishing the merriest of Christmases to all of you, friends and family back home, and saying that we are thinking of you and wishing you health, prosperity and happiness in the coming year. Joyeux noël à vous tous!

We awoke much too early yesterday, thanks to Benjamin's exceptional gift-opening enthusiasm. Our Christmas is full of wonderful traditions: champagne and orange juice, croissants (bought fresh from Le Moulin, who were open!), one-at-a-time gift opening, and lobster rolls. I think that everyone's hopes came true, and we were all delighted with gifts that arrived from Canada way. Un gros merci.

In the afternoon, we went for a stroll through Narbonne while the boys whizzed ahead of us on their scooters. It was 14 degrees and sunny (if you are keeping track of these things). The city felt like it was just ours for the day, la rue Droite and Place de la Mairie were empty, the stores stilled, the canal without any activity. Of course, the crèpe-making stands were in operation. Vive la France.

A visit with the Redhill men

Shortly before the holidays, Marshall and Mark (Michael's dad and brother) arrived for a visit. The gentlemen arrived in Narbonne with massive amounts of spoils from home (I'm still secretly enjoying the Caramilk bars), and a spirit of adventure for Southern France. Benjamin and Maxime were especially thrilled to see their Uncle Narky and Zaida—a little touch of home—and two new initiates to life à la narbonnaise.

Once the jetlag passed, we loaded our foursome into the faithful Yaris for an adult-only visit to Château de Peyrepertuse, one of the five sister castles where the Cathars took refuge from Simon de Montford's rampaging armies seeking to destroy them. Mark and Marshall were dazzled by our fields of vines and the lovely rolling Corbières hills. We plied them with clementines and baguette and readied for our trek. Peyrepertuse was never attacked, and as we climbed into the clouds to reach it perched on a limestone cliff, well, it clearly would have been madness to attempt an attack. Just starve them until they give up. Once we'd parked the car, we couldn't actually see the castle, the drop of the mountain is so steep.

Peyrepertuse stretches across the top of the cliff, and leaves no room for error. The castle is the width of the cliff itself (and that often means it narrows to a couple of metres). The Redhill men, being far braver than I and part billy-goat, climbed up to the highest western point to gaze upon Quéribus (the last Cathar stronghold to fall), the snow-capped Pyrenées, and the valley below. Luckily, I found some friendly Aussies caravaning through Europe to distract me from the fact that I was hundreds of metres above ground.

No visit is complete without sampling the local flavours: grape and other. Here's our little group enjoying lunch at Le petit comptoir in Narbonne.

Hockey in Narbonne poses its own challenges as we've elaborated, but unbelievably, the Narbonne White Tigers play on the international scene. Early Sunday morning we loaded into two cars for the drive to Puigcerda, a Spanish city just inside the border in the Pyrénées. The Corbières are hills, but whoa, the Pyrénées are true mountains. Winding roads, death-defying turns, spectacular sun-lit mountain villages. Another great discovery. We found the stadio-sportico (through sheer dumb luck and the fact that women ask directions!) so that Maxime could dress in time for his first game. They played three, all losses, the last a desperate 15-0. But, our little player scored his first international goal in game 2, all captured on video.

Here's Maxime, scoring one for the team:

Michael, Mark, and Marshall went off to visit Provence on their own for a couple days, taking in the Pont du Gard, Arles, and Avignon. They stumbled upon les bornes milliaires, proof that if you read the fineprint, you can discover the most amazing things (even in guidebooks). The bornes milliaires were road markers, installed every roman mile along the Via Domitia. These three markers, in the styles of successive roman emperors Augustus, Tiberius and Antininus Pius are the only such milestones still standing in France.

Another happy guidebook accident revealed that Arles has a one-star Michelin restaurant. So, after taking in Vincent Van Gogh's inspiration, Mark, Marshall and Michael wandered for a three-hour lunch at Le Cilantro.

Having Mark and Marshall here was a touch of home in our far away land. Lots of cuddles and enjoyable dinners around the dining room table. Oh, and the occasional bottle of champagne. Here are some more pics from their visit!