Castles in the mist

[shewhomust]

Part of the plan for last autumn's holiday was to visit the Cathar castles - some of them, at least. On a previous visit to the region we had sat at the foot of the crag, gazed up at Montségur and decided maybe not, today. On our way south, the low cloud had chased us towards the coast, so now, as we turned back towards the north, we were ready to try again.

We lunched at a picnic table tucked into the bushes which provided a windbreak round the car park below the castle of Quéribus. The castle huddled its bulk into a veil of cloud, vanishing and reappearing while we ate. We watched a straggle of intrepid tourists make their way cautiously up the slabbed causeway, and decided that we weren't, after all, going to climb to a castle we couldn't actually see, up a steep and stony causeway which was obviously slippery when wet.

Instead we drove on to Peyrepertuse, resigned to the possibility that here too we would look up at the castle and say "No, thanks." After a couple of wrong turns we found our road, which snaked up and up into ever thicker cloud. A few turns more, some of them particularly nasty, we concluded that being unable to see the castle was one thing, being unable to see across the car park was another, and here we were rapidly losing sight of the road. We found a space where we could pull in, let the Belgian car which was tailing us drive past, and went back down to the valley. Maybe next time...

Moving on, we took the road through the Gorges de Galamus, a mile or so of road through a rocky valley which had been recommended to us as scenic, and which was pretty much on our way. Amazing, a thin line of road winding along, halfway up a rocky mountain side, sharp peaks of stone above us, a deeply incised river valley below us, as if we were on a ribbon that had been threaded between the overhanging rocks and the spurs of stone - but this was no ribbon, and it had been blasted through in an extraordinary feat of engineering, to connect two small villages, to save a trivial amount of traffic going the long way round. (Now, of course, the traffic comes to admire the road, and in the summer is not trivial).

Comments

[nineweaving.livejournal.com]

Wonderfully evocative. I wouldn't climb that either...

Nine

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

Well, I would, some day when it's not quite so blue. Or cloudy - Oh, but wait a minute...

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I wouldn't fancy laying siege to that.

What names, though- what names!

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

I'd rather lay siege to it from a safe distance than try to scale the walls. But you're certainly right about the names!

I was there! What she said!

[negothick.livejournal.com]

I, too, drove the gorge de Galamus road--I posted about it in my journal last July. I was too frightened to admire the view. I had moved to a state somewhere beyond fear, into complete numbness. Luckily the road ended at a car park with toilets (really necessary!).

I remember the winding roads up to Queribus and Peyrepertuse, but luckily for me, our early July day was clear (no fog) yet uncrowded. I remember that cars were hot on my tail then as well: I wondered how many went off the un-guardrailed road every year.

The castles were state of the art and actually never fell to direct siege--but it was relatively easy to starve out the defenders, even if it took years--it just took patience. You can see how isolated they are, far from anything that grows (other than rocks and gravel). Even in high summer, there's barely a blade of grass nearby.

Summer 2009 is the 800th anniversary of the Beziers Massacre and the start of the Albigensian Crusade. I expect things to be pretty lively around Cathar Country at that time.