Narbonne

Flight from Edinburgh to Amsterdam, then onto Montpellier, then a train to Narbonne. Travel by train is great, it provides an impersonal view of other people's lives through backyards always looking onto the tracks. One is treated to a constant tableau of frayed knickers on washlines, assorted appliances that should have been sent to the dump, old Citroen cars on blocks and vegetable patches. This appears to be the form of gardening the French love, the remainder of the garden can be scrubland, but the tomatoes are immaculate.
Also passed the vast oyster farms in the lagoons around Seté, all organic, or as it is referred to here, Bio.

Narbonne, very old and beautiful city. Dating back to 118BC it was the Roman capital of Gaul. And a Roman bridge still exists in the town, in daily use. Great engineers they were. The city has not suffered gentrification, slightly delapidated houses with lovely wrought iron balconies and wooden shutters line narrow streets. Could be a set for a movie in the Twenties starring Belmondo in a white suit.
Late at night glanced through open shutters, young couple kissing with great intent. They outdo themselves at being French at times.
Very hot, day and night, and the locals seem to view sleep as optional, three in the morning and groups still sitting outside cafes, happily chatting away.

Les Halles, the market is stupendous, a wonderland for anyone who loves food. And how they do, endlessly discussing the virtues of this cheese versus that, the aroma of today's melons and on. Very proud of their culinary heritage and rightfully so. Everything fresh, produced with pleasure and affection. Vast array of olives, garlic ; large pink globes fresh from the fields or barrels filled with pickled cloves to be munched by the handful. The common cold cannot possibly be common here.
Bought some tiny black figs (figue de Toulouse), achingly sweet, flat white peaches and melons. Cheese and butter, this with tiny flakes of salt and a large farm chicken from a rotisserie where they turn, constantly dripping fat onto the potatoes in the tray below. Heaven.Read more