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| Relaxing |
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| After A Frustrating Day |
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| Carcassone |
Oct. 11, 2015-Carcassone
Frustrating Carcassone
Carcassone is only two hours from Arles. It's toll road most of the way. It took us five hours to get to the walled city and Medieval Chateau (castle). Here's why.
The terrain was changing. It was more parched with the appearance of red clay soil. Vineyards were still in abundance as well as the typical white horses of the Camargue region we were leaving. We were entering the honey capital of France. Every town had a castle. Dozens of modern windmills dotted the hills.
The road was smooth and relatively new. We chose to stop at a rest area for gas, etc. It was new, clean, and beautifully appointed. There was a patio with bright umbrellas for picnics. The ladies room stall doors were decorated with laminate in a riot of floral bouquets. David pulled up to a pump and tried to use his VISA, but it was rejected. We went inside and used the card to make a purchase. It worked. American cards require signatures. In some places where that's not possible they're rejected. We explained to the cashier about our problem and he said to pay later. I remembered how to say "pump 14" in French. We left the card with him. David tried again and failed. I went in to be sure the pump was on. It wasn't. Eventually gas got pumped. We were on our way. At least a twenty minute delay.
At last we arrived at the Tourist Info Bureau in Carcassonne. Where to park. The main underground lot was closed. It was Sunday. After parking in two lots we finally figured out that parking was free today. We settled on the second open street level lot. We found the Info place and were given maps of the town, the surrounding area, and a hotel booklet. Of course, we hadn't pre-booked. We were winging it in France. We felt rushed then realized they were closing. Lights were being turned off and we were escorted to the door and out.
Lunch was in order. Not a lot was open, but we found a cafe offering double cheeseburgers and fries. What we got were single burgers with cheese on the top and bottom of the burger. It was double cheese, not double burger. No matter. I tried calling hotels to see about booking. I didn't know which numbers to dial of those given. For example, our hotel, the Ibis, is 33 (0)4 68 72 37 37. The waitress tried to help but had trouble too. I'd tried variations, but she got a ringtone leaving off the 33. For some reason this is a very busy week end here. We finally found a room and reserved it by phone.
We walked to the hotel and arranged to park the car for $10 in their garage. We walked to the car, found the hotel again, and pulled down a narrow chute into a dead end facing a garage door. We had a code to enter but didn't see a keypad. Miraculously, the door rose. A car was exiting. We did a back and forth dance and were inside. Our space, #4, was easy to find but was encroached on by the car in slot #5. I went up to the lobby through a maze of doors and buzzers to explain our plight. I hadn't realized that the garage was monitored by cameras so the clerk knew the problem. She said we should exit the garage using the keypad and pointed to a free street spot we could have until the car in #5 checked out this evening. Down I went, but not far. The door to the lot said to push then pull. I did and nothing happened. The door was stuck. Up to the lobby I went. The clerk ran down the steps with me and pointed out that "push" meant to push a button near the door then pull the door. Who knew? By the time David and I emerged from the garage the street space was taken. The solution was now that we'd use the hotel code to park in the underground lot (costing $8) across the street that was posted as closed. We did, it did, and we checked in.
Carcassone is only two hours from Arles. It's toll road most of the way. It took us five hours to get to the walled city and Medieval Chateau (castle). Here's why.
The terrain was changing. It was more parched with the appearance of red clay soil. Vineyards were still in abundance as well as the typical white horses of the Camargue region we were leaving. We were entering the honey capital of France. Every town had a castle. Dozens of modern windmills dotted the hills.
The road was smooth and relatively new. We chose to stop at a rest area for gas, etc. It was new, clean, and beautifully appointed. There was a patio with bright umbrellas for picnics. The ladies room stall doors were decorated with laminate in a riot of floral bouquets. David pulled up to a pump and tried to use his VISA, but it was rejected. We went inside and used the card to make a purchase. It worked. American cards require signatures. In some places where that's not possible they're rejected. We explained to the cashier about our problem and he said to pay later. I remembered how to say "pump 14" in French. We left the card with him. David tried again and failed. I went in to be sure the pump was on. It wasn't. Eventually gas got pumped. We were on our way. At least a twenty minute delay.
At last we arrived at the Tourist Info Bureau in Carcassonne. Where to park. The main underground lot was closed. It was Sunday. After parking in two lots we finally figured out that parking was free today. We settled on the second open street level lot. We found the Info place and were given maps of the town, the surrounding area, and a hotel booklet. Of course, we hadn't pre-booked. We were winging it in France. We felt rushed then realized they were closing. Lights were being turned off and we were escorted to the door and out.
Lunch was in order. Not a lot was open, but we found a cafe offering double cheeseburgers and fries. What we got were single burgers with cheese on the top and bottom of the burger. It was double cheese, not double burger. No matter. I tried calling hotels to see about booking. I didn't know which numbers to dial of those given. For example, our hotel, the Ibis, is 33 (0)4 68 72 37 37. The waitress tried to help but had trouble too. I'd tried variations, but she got a ringtone leaving off the 33. For some reason this is a very busy week end here. We finally found a room and reserved it by phone.
We walked to the hotel and arranged to park the car for $10 in their garage. We walked to the car, found the hotel again, and pulled down a narrow chute into a dead end facing a garage door. We had a code to enter but didn't see a keypad. Miraculously, the door rose. A car was exiting. We did a back and forth dance and were inside. Our space, #4, was easy to find but was encroached on by the car in slot #5. I went up to the lobby through a maze of doors and buzzers to explain our plight. I hadn't realized that the garage was monitored by cameras so the clerk knew the problem. She said we should exit the garage using the keypad and pointed to a free street spot we could have until the car in #5 checked out this evening. Down I went, but not far. The door to the lot said to push then pull. I did and nothing happened. The door was stuck. Up to the lobby I went. The clerk ran down the steps with me and pointed out that "push" meant to push a button near the door then pull the door. Who knew? By the time David and I emerged from the garage the street space was taken. The solution was now that we'd use the hotel code to park in the underground lot (costing $8) across the street that was posted as closed. We did, it did, and we checked in.
Our room is a tad bigger than a Microtel, but newly appointed and clean. There is only one outlet in the room. It's on the wall under the TV. Can't watch TV and have anything plugged in. Our iPad, phone, and most importantly David's CPAP machine have to be plugged into the extension cord we brought.
By now it was 3 PM and we were just starting across the ancient bridge over the River Aude to the UNESCO old city, castle, and ramparts. Uphill we went. We enjoyed an ice-cream cone and pushed through crowds of tired families with crying kids all making their way to the next souvenir shop or cafe. We lined up for tickets and audio for the castle by 3:30 PM. It was in the high 70's, the sun was blazing, and we were getting cranky. The castle visitation ended at 5 PM. We got to the ticket booth at 4:10 PM and were told they were starting to ask people to leave the castle by 4:30 and closing at 5, but we could still pay full admission for a twenty-minute walkthrough. We declined. Wasn't going well.
We groused to each other as we walked around the old town and up on the rampart walls. David wanted to see the basilica and it was a good place to rest. It surprised us by being one of the loveliest we've seen. The stained glass was delicate and the primary colors caught the sun giving a kaleidoscope effect. As we tried to deal with our disappointment, four men appeared at the base of the steps to the altar. They lined up in a row as for a picture. One had a strange otherworldly look on his face. Then they began to sing a cappella. The acoustics and their clear, strong, soulful sound helped center us. It was good we didn't understand the words they sang. Words would have detracted and distracted. The tone alone was soothing. They sang two songs then offered to sell their CD to benefit the church. A bit tacky, but understandable.
We went on to visit a schoolhouse from the 1800's where posters cautioning against alcoholism caught my fancy. They said too much drink led to smaller children, muscle weakness, epilepsy, and idiocy. Not far off.
Minds at ease, we decided to continue our rampart walk admiring the countryside from a sovereign's eye view. The light playing on the fields and red tile rooftops cast shadows hinting at dinnertime. We chose a place at random and enjoyed the plate du jour. Along with soup or salad we had chicken with ratatouille and fries. It was peasant food, somewhat akin to paprikas, but perfect for the setting. David enjoyed his first glass of French wine on this trip, and we finished with poached pear covered in chocolate sauce.
As we crossed the bridge back to our hotel, I couldn't resist looking back at the castle.
Tomorrow we head East back to Italy. I don't know how far we'll get. It's over seven hours to where we want to go, CinqueTerres, so we'll break it into two driving days.
Toby
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