Clear and Cold In The Back Country

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

     Today was the day summer ended for me, the day that marked definitively the end of my stay in the Minervois.

     It has been cool in the mornings and yesterday, even forbiddingly dark and cloudy.  However, this morning it was that many degrees cooler, and although I had an excursion to Monolieu ("the village of books") with Chantal planned, the weather suggested layers would be advisable.

     Not only that, today was a reminder that l'Aude is the windiest departement in France.  I came home to a house whipped by the howling winds and cooler than it has been.  I pulled out a down quilt and lay it on the bed, knowing that the time when either a fire or man-made heating would be necessary had arrived.

     The air is so clear and crisp the clouds are sharply outlined.  Not forbiddingly cold, Chantal, Baboon, Beau and I strolled Montolieu happily, having lunch at l'Apostrophe, the art deco restaurant set beside the ancient paper factory established by Louis XV(known as the bien-aime, or, "beloved").

      The lunch --coquilles Saint Jacques for Chantal, chicken cooked in coconut milk and curry for me, was delicious.  L'Apostrophe has bands playing on weekends in the summer, but like the boutique across the way, it will close for the season at the end of the month.

      "We will only be open weekends when we return in mid-November.  And then, in January, we will close until mid-March" our amiable waiter told us.

       And so it is here.  There are places that stay open in each village, but the choices are limited.

       To someone used to the incessant pace of Manhattan, it seems terribly sad that places close down for the season, although it is easy to understand.

        "That's the way it is in the back country in France", Chantal explained to me.  "It's too expensive to pay all the personnel for six covers"  (How many there were at lunch today.)

         A friend of mine who lives part of the year in Maine explained to me that it is similar there, too.

         "People figure how much they need to live on", and work only enough during the season to be able to stop for the winter", she said.

           Caunes is not quite like that: La Table d'Emilie stays open year round, as does La Marbrerie. For which I am grateful, even if I have not yet spent a winter here.  Nevertheless, the village is somnolent by nine o'clock, although the cafe on the main drag stays open, keeping the drinkers in liquid, another thing I am grateful for.

           I wanted to experience Caunes in the colder weather and I am doing that.  However, it makes me want to leave as soon as I possibly can.  Cycling is out, as the wind fights the cyclist, and I've no desire to fight back.  So I've decided to book a night in Rocamadour, the village with the monastery and pilgrimage site perched on a cliff.  I'll leave Monday, a day earlier than I had planned originally.  Frankly, if I could find another place to go on Sunday, I would.

           While in the MInervois, as in most places, people don't shake their routine easily, I want to be off.  With the temperatures dropping and cold weather gear becoming essential, there seems no reason not to venture further afield sooner.  The back country is beautiful, but I am a citadine, a city-dweller, at heart, and the fresh air is not enough to keep me happy.  I must be off.