Blog 4: Aurignac
When one thinks of France, images of Paris come to mind. The Eiffel Tower. Notre Dame cathedral. Moulin Rouge. Wide avenues with hordes of tourists. Yet there’s another side of France. The population living in the vast rural lands lead a quieter life. Small country towns offer a special appeal, a restful charm of ancient customs with clean flower-scented air, no traffic, and friendly people.
Aurignac sits on the border of the Pyrénées mountains, close to Spain. Its origins can be traced back two millennium with discovery of a Roman bathhouse. Even much older, right outside Aurignac an 1860 anthropologist discovered a cave with prehistoric human remains. There’s a museum in town devoted to its history and artifacts. As Isabelle and I love museums, we had a very enjoyable time there.
View of the Pyrenees from our window
The city became a regional capital during the late Middle Ages and built a fortified castle and keep. The French King Henry IV felt Aurignac’s power posed too great a danger, so he ordered the structure destroyed. It survived when the town council wrote him back saying it had been done … when it wasn’t. Here’s a picture of the keep. It’s under reconstruction.
The Castle Keep, original and reconstruction
We wandered through the remains of the keep and courtyard. The narrow winding staircase reminded me of the tower turrets seen in old medieval based movies. This photo shows a peek of the countryside through its three-foot thick wall. From the keep’s peak we had a stunning view of French countryside at its best.
Just down the top of the hill from the castle sat the magnificent Aurignac church, Église Saint Pierre aux Liens. Its four-hundred-year-old statues, saint glass, and huge religious paintings had survived intact through the French Revolution … perhaps by the same city council trick. Isabelle marveled at the intricate detailed decorations.
This morning we took a walk through the countryside. We strolled downhill past a large animal feed store, already doing business as the sun crept up. At the bottom of the hill, Isabelle befriended two ladies walking their dogs. They directed us to an amazing chapel, sitting up a small hill. A plaque told that it was built in 1664 as a shrine by a family because they’d been spared of the plague. During the French revolution the Revolutionary Council ordered it destroyed, but it wasn’t. Yes, the City Council used the same trick, just lying about it, and the structure remained.
Down from the chapel, we followed the road past the cemetery. Isabelle was certain there’d be a path behind the castle, and, sure enough we found one, a 3-foot breadth hugging the edge of a hill. Inside, we could stand still and enjoy absolute silence.
As we continued, we passed cow pastures and huge fields of sunflowers. And then … we came to the hill. We two inhabitants of the lowlands had our hearts pounding when we reached the top. On we went. Just before the end of the path, we made friends with a man who was fertilizing his garden. He told Isabelle all about his family history, and a bit about the castle’s too.
Field of Sunflowers
We left our path right where Isabelle had predicted, the gate of the old ramparts. It has a history plaque, too. I’ve got to brag, she’s a great tour guide as well as translator.
Two buildings up from the old rampart gate, sits the 15th century hotel Isabelle found us. Our fourth-floor suite overlooked the mountains on the front view. That’s her in the open window. Out the side we watch the pigeons huddle on ancient tile roofs. From the hotel door, it’s an easy walk to the organic grocer, the 2-euro used-bookstore, or either of the two restaurants in town. The hotel owner provides an outdoor patio where neighbors come to drink and talk. Men play cards on Sunday morning. Isabelle befriends them all. The building has no elevators. We’ll definitely have stronger leg muscles after this trip.
I can’t write a blog about France and not devote at least one paragraph to food. The breakfast at this hotel includes your choices of meats and breads and fruit and cheese. We’re talking homemade warm pain au chocolat, buttery croissants, and baguette! It doesn’t come better than that on a cool mountain morning. We lunched at the restaurant across the street. Foodies it’s called. I’m not kidding. Foodies. After settling in for patio lunch under the grapevine canopies, we ordered the 3-course special for Isabelle and the steak and fries with sweet onion sauce for me. Hers started with a cucumber and tomato mayonnaise salad, followed by a sauced pork roast. Both her roast potatoes and my fries came out crisp, warm, and scrumptious, the meats even better. Two hours after seating, we shared the chocolate mousse for dessert. Isabelle wrote them a fine review.
Why are we in Aurignac? Isabelle has a childhood friend who lives in a beautiful renovated traditional farm in the country. Frederica has mellowed from the fast-paced youngster Isabelle knew to a wise and peaceful country-woman. Graying hair flows above her welcoming face. Tonight, Isabelle and she sat next to each other on the edge of the patio watching the sun set over the mountains. They smoked, drank a little French wine, and occasionally gabbled in French. It’s their first meeting in over forty years, and they’ve settled down like old friends. As we walked back to our car, I enjoyed the milky way shining country bright.
