Chapter 25 - France again - and again
Quite a different variety of experiences was involved with the next Dickason trip to cottages in France in 2003. With a distinct memory of the difficulties associated with the charter flight and the 9/11 episode, we completed research which produced a much preferred flight booking. British Airways had introduced two flights daily from Vancouver, and by buying seats on the earlier of the two, it was possible to take the bus from Heathrow to Gatwick and transfer to a connecting flight to Toulouse on the same day rather than overnight near one of the London airports.
The same research led to the discovery of the World Traveller Plus class on BA. This level, for a premium paid over the economy fare, provided economy class food and wine but a two-four-two seating configuration [compared to three-four-three in economy] in a small section of the aircraft, forward of the wing. With fewer than 40 passengers and one flight attendant, it proved to have faster service, was quieter, and seemed to have fresher air than the World Traveller or economy section further back in the plane.
The Dordogne and the Pyrenees cottages combination was the original plan, but having sworn to return to the cottage where we had spent but two nights in 2001 after the cancelled flight, a week in Gascony was added. The referral of friends to the Richard’s cottages was succeeding since the initial arrangement, and adding the third week was at no cost to the travel budget because of the ‘credits’ we had accumulated.
A booking for a Renault Clio was made through Andre in Montreal, and a Novotel airport hotel reservation made for the Friday of our arrival in Toulouse. The World Traveller Plus flight from YVR was quite relaxing with the extra legroom and the wider seats. The National Express bus to Gatwick gave us ample time to switch to the flight to Toulouse, and the shuttle at the Toulouse airport took us to the hotel in time for a pleasant dinner outside on the patio - pate, coq au vin, confit de canard and some local red wine were a perfect introduction to eating in France again.
Late in the morning on Saturday, the hotel shuttle returned us to the airport where the EuropCar desk confirmed our booking. After a quick orientation to our new car, we headed north to the Dordogne cottage, stopping outside Cahors for a picnic lunch. The information from the Richards indicated that there were no shops in tiny Berbiguieres where the cottage was located, so we first stopped at the super-market in Siorac-en-Perigord to buy staples for the first few days, and continued the final 4km to the cottage.
‘La Maison du Chateau’ is a simple Perigord stone cottage, one of several in a horseshoe shape surrounding the chateau which was originally a military stronghold in the 11th century. The Dickasons were delighted to find that the view out the front living room window was across a farmer’s field, with crops already planted and
sprouting early in May. The entry to the cottage was into the large living/dining room with white walls and oak floor - the kitchen was separated from this by a half-height wall and had a door to a small patio. The main bedroom, bathroom and laundry were downstairs, and upstairs was a loft with two single beds.
A surprise woke us the next morning - bells at the local church starting at 7am. The sound ensured Les was out on his pre-breakfast walk that Sunday, and each morning during the week as well. The Dickasons tried to determine the logic behind the number of peals each day - it varied - but gave up after three or four days.
The list on the kitchen wall informed of a market in St. Cyprien on Sunday morning - just 4km from our cottage - and visiting that and buying fresh fruit, vegetables and wine in the plastic jug occupied the first morning, with lunch back at the cottage on a hot and sunny day.
After reading through the box of tourist literature and the journals of previous renters, it became obvious that this cottage was within very easy reach of a wide variety of places to visit. The Dordogne River wound through the area, and on almost every bend there was another castle or fort. Each had a long history, and some had interesting recent residents of note too. To ensure a steady stream of tourists, tours with guides [or audio-guides] were available at almost all attractions.
Others such as such as Chateau de Castelnaud advertised a specialty. Here a display of MIddle Ages clothing, furniture, mosaics and weaponry [small items inside, large items like catapults outside] was particularly well done. From the ramparts here it was possible to look in both directions along the river and see other castles and forts at each bend. Some sites enhanced their attraction by adding activities such as
demonstrations of birds of prey at Chateau de Millandes where the Dickasons and a crowd of tourists were fascinated by the eagle owl and various hawks as trainers put the birds through their acts. The interior of the building featured the history of a 20th century owner, Josephine Baker, a US born musical hall star who turned into a Resistance fighter.
A routine was very quickly established in this cottage with a picnic being packed into the car for a short trip to a walled town or castle for a tour or walk. The picnic lunch was eaten at a picturesque viewpoint before a short trip to formal gardens or to another famous town or village. Sarlat, Beynac, Roquegageac, Cadouin and Montpazier were recommended by entries in the journals, and they did not disappoint. The Dickasons were tempted by the potential of renting a canoe from Roquegageac and taking the leisurely two hour trip down river past four chateaux, but it never seemed to fit the schedule, though we watched others paddle along past us during our picnic lunches.
One morning, while approaching Montpazier on a small winding road, the Clio was tailgated by a yellow Porsche. Les pulled over to allow it to pass, only to find a black Porsche was immediately behind the Clio, with a silver grey one behind that. After parking in the lot outside the walls of the town, the Dickasons walked through the arched gateway, along the narrow cobbled street to the town square. Our eyes
widened as, parked in straight lines in the square were more than 40 Porsches. Apparently breakfast for the Porsche Auto Club was planned for 10am right there in Montpazier. Under tents were tables with plates of croissants, pate, cheese, bread, fruit, Cognac, Sauternes and more as the drivers and their passengers [and dogs] enjoyed the gathering.
Throughout the week, we noticed flowers budding everywhere. In Berbiguieres, climbing roses and wisteria suddenly added colour to cottage walls in the ruelles, and while driving past some fields the Dickasons saw the red poppies appearing amongst the grasses.
During the week, dinner was in the cottage each evening except one. The ingredients for most meals were bought at local markets and at road-side stalls. One neighbour operated a van which he drove to markets to sell local cheeses. His weekly schedule meant he visited twelve different towns, and we recognized him and his van and bought cheese from him and bread from the baker he recommended.
Consistently high praise in the ‘restaurant’ book at the cottage was for the Auberge de la Nauze in a small town just 7km distant. On Thursday night we dined there and enjoyed the Perigord Noir cuisine with terrine with fois gras, veal with a morel sauce, with apples and walnuts all featuring as local products.
Too soon, it was house-cleaning and car-packing time, and the Clio was pointed south to take the ring road to the east of Toulouse and continue another 100km to the south east to the town of Mirepoix where the Pyrenees cottage [La Maison des Penitents Blancs] was easily found.
The contrast between the Dordogne and Pyrenees cottages and their location was very marked. Berbiguieres was a tiny village with no shops; Mirepoix a town of over 3000 souls, with all facilities. The Dordogne village bordered a farmer’s field; the Mirepoix cottage was a three storey building with shutters and an entrance off
the pavement on a regular street [with parking restrictions].
However, the Mirepoix home was comparatively large, would sleep up to six adults, and had been renovated beautifully. It was just four blocks from a super-market on the edge of the town, so before arriving to open the door, the Dickasons augmented the supplies carried from the Dordogne week, then explored and unpacked once inside. After dining on local sausages, a stroll into the walled town was the most obvious activity.
Within two blocks was one of the gateways into the old town [see the photo at left below], and another two blocks inside the walls was the Place des Couverts - a central square surrounded by medieval houses and arcades which provided covered walkways for the shops. Of particular interest was the Maison des Consuls which had over 100 carved wooded heads on the ancient woodwork of the beams on the arcades. The square was large enough to have trees, benches, a merry-go-round, and that Saturday evening, many arm in arm couples were strolling.
On the far side of the square, Les grabbed Pat’s hand and steered her towards the cathedral. Having heard some music, the hunt was on for the source, and it was not very distant. Inside the very gothic Cathedral of Saint Maurice, the organist was practising for Sunday services, and the Dickasons enjoyed the impromptu concert. When leaving the cathedral, Les stood on a large stone which was loose in the flooring, and realized that it was vibrating due to the massive
bass sounds from the organ. This unexpected musical event was particularly satisfying because during previous stays in cottages, there seemed to be a musical jinx on the Dickasons. Posters in tourist offices and shop windows often advertised an appealing event the week before or the week after our visit but nothing within reach during our rental week. The jinx continued for the balance of this France visit, and the following one too. The photo at right shows the cathedral in dawn light later in the week.
Another contrast to the Dordogne region became apparent when the previous renter’s journals and recommendations were read later the first night. Mirepoix was on a plain in the Ariege department, and while there were many recommended sites to visit, most required longer drives that those in Dordogne where everything was so close. But, a plan for the week was drafted, and fascinating contrasts were revealed through the week.
The Pyrenees cottage was touted as being in Cathar country - and mountain-top strongholds of the heretics of the 13th century were dotted through the region. On Sunday the Clio was driven to Montsegur, where after a long siege, 200 heretics had been burnt to death. After parking the car, the Dickasons made the steep climb to the ancient fortress [see photo at left], and wondered at the motivation of those who built it and survived in it so many years ago. The afternoon was spent wandering around Limoux, finding a tasting room for the sparkling white wine which is produced in the area - Blanquette de Limoux. While not taken with the apple peel flavour of this specialty, it was very refreshing on a warm Sunday afternoon, and a bottle accompanied us back to Mirepoix where it was enjoyed with some sea bass bought at a Limoux stall.
The Pyrenees - the chain of mountains bordering Spain - were just 30km south of Mirepoix. On Les’ pre-breakfast walks on clear days, the glaciers and snow pack were visible in the distance.
Monday was market day in Mirepoix, so the Dickasons gathered the shopping bags from the hall of the cottage [and the plastic jug] and spent a productive morning buying local cheeses, vegetables, and filling the jug from a winery stall. After lunching at one of the many cafes around the plaza and depositing the purchases back at the cottage, there was just enough energy left to drive to Camon, another walled town nearby. The Abbey there dates from the 8th century, and the travel gods smiled at having our visit coincide with Camon’s Rose Festival. Every house sported pots of roses, and climbing roses growing from tiny pockets of soil against brick walls, and public areas were a mass of colour from the varied plantings.
The photo at left shows the roses at their peak in Camon.
One of the other contrasts with other cottages was revealed when we had a visit from the local managers. During stays in every other cottage, there was little or no contact with a manager. But here, Barbara and Martin phoned and dropped by to check that everything was up to their standard. They were from the UK, lived in a house outside Mirepoix, and had rented a large plot of land which they had planted as a vegetable and fruit garden. They invited the Dickasons to drop in for tea if passing - we did - and finding them very interesting people, we invited them to join us for what was a 38th anniversary dinner for the Dickasons at La Flambee, Mirepoix’s highly rated restaurant. A photo is included below.
Other highlights of a very busy week included a day trip to Carcassonne, a visit to another Cathar stronghold at Puilaurens, a drive to the west to the city of Foix, a picnic lunch at Castelnaudry, and a visit to an organic winery.
The fortress at Carcassonne was originally a Roman edifice which was augmented in the fifth century. Inside the fortress are Chateau Comtal and the Basilica of Saint-Nazaire [with wonderful stained glass windows] and a complete village. Despite the designation on the UNESCO list of World Heritage sites, the Dickasons found it a strange mix of wonderful historic buildings which were beautifully restored, and a sort of Disneyland dressing of shops, tours, and attractions [such as wax works] designed to pry money from the more than three million visitors who arrive annually. We were very glad to have arrived before the gates opened [a recommendation in the cottage visitor book]. Parking then was easy in the massive lots outside the walls; and our first walk along the ramparts and into the Chateau and Basilica were pleasant. But, later in the morning, as dozens of huge buses had arrived, walking on the narrow cobblestone streets was slow and difficult, and taking photographs without intruding tourists was impossible.
At that point, we ate a picnic lunch, strolled to the lower town outside the fortress walls for a very different view of the walls. The photo here at left shows the Chateau from below the ramparts.
The visit to Puilaurens revealed another Cathar ruin, this one dating back to the early 11th century. Once again, the path was steep, but the views were spectacular, and the panels illustrating the history very interesting.
Foix, the largest city in the region, sprawls around the Chateau and the Abbey, both of which date back to the 9th and 11th centuries, and have famous towers which dominate the
skyline of the city. The museum in the complex was impressive, and provided warmth on what proved to be the only cold day of the week in the Pyrenees region.
Castelnaudry is a market town based on the Canal du Midi. It has several claims to fame, but none of more interest to the Dickasons than ‘the home of cassoulet.’ A can of one of the more famous varieties was purchased for a dinner the following week.
One of the favourite memories of the week though was of a picnic lunch alongside the Grand Bassin, a large stretch of water near the locks of the canal and across from Castelnaudry. The view across to the town, the quiet sounds of the barges preparing to enter the locks, and the lunch of local market-bought goodies combined to reinforce the reason for the trips to cottages in France.
After a salmon dinner at home on Friday night - with accompanying Limoux wines - house-cleaning and packing followed. Saturday was moving day, but with a relatively short drive to the Gascony cottage, about 200km to the west on secondary roads.
When checking the availability page of the website of the Richard’s cottages many months earlier, it was a surprise to find that the owners would be in the Gascony cottage the week before us. They had a routine whereby every ten months or so they would travel from Australia to France and spend a week or two in each cottage doing needed maintenance, checking with the local manager, replacing kitchen equipment, reading the journals - and enjoying up to twelve weeks in France. E-mailing from Dickasons to Richards before this trip confirmed that the owners would accept an invitation to stay an extra night in the Gascony cottage as guests of the in-coming renter Dickasons, so that we could meet and go out to dinner together.
The Richards, Geoff and Kathy, were at La Maison des Arcades in Tillac waiting for us and had moved their gear to the bedroom on the top floor so that we could occupy the main bedroom on the first floor. They had made a reservation at a favourite restaurant in Villecomtal just 15km distant, but before we left for the much anticipated dinner, Kathy asked if they could remain in Tillac for most of the next day too. On Sunday, Tillac would celebrate its annual Foire de Broccante - or antique fair - and the Richards had reserved seats at the outdoor lunch and hoped the Dickasons would join them and two other friends who had bought the end unit in the
arcade where the Richards’ cottage was.
The Dickasons and the Richards had much in common - and the dinner at La Rive Droite was followed by a late night with more wine and swapping of stories from Australia, and of the cottages. During Sunday breakfast, the street outside and all others in Tillac were bustling as hundreds of vendors established stalls then drove their vans off to the designated parking areas outside the village. Stepping outside our front door put us right behind the counter of a book seller, with many other stalls to the left and right. The photo included here was taken before the vans had left the streets and the market had officially opened.
Most of the morning was spent wandering the stalls, and each of the four of us found something of interest to buy. At coffee time the clip clop sound of hooves came in the open window as the first circuit of the horse and cart ride, complete with a piano accordionist went by the house.
It being a sunny day with temperature topping at 25C, the lunch was outdoors at long tables, and the Richards introduced the new neighbours who had bought the cottage at the end of the street. Anne was a librarian in the UK, and two mornings that week played tennis with Les at the local courts before she returned to England. Her husband Geoff stayed on to continue renovations and furniture buying and he dined with the Dickasons one night when pork
from the Tillac butcher was featured in the main course.
The Richards left for the Dordogne cottage after the lengthy lunch, and the Dickasons settled down to a typical week in a French cottage - pre-breakfast walk for Les, plans for the day finalized over breakfast, picnic lunch packed [in the new back-pack picnic basket complete with wine glasses, cheese board, cutlery and freezer pack containers], a drive to a recommended site to explore, picnic, a drive to another site or a market town, and finally back to the cottage for appetizers, local wine and dinner at home. One of the dinners featured the canned cassoulet bought in Castelnaudry previously - it went well with the hefty Buzet reds we bought and drank with much pleasure in Gascony. Local Armagnac was the finish to the meal of course.
The previous short visit did not allow time to visit the Pyrenees, but on a beautiful sunny, warm day the Dickasons plotted a route to Col d’Aspin which was familiar to us from our viewing of the Tour de Lance [oops - France]. The climb to the summit of the road is challenging for cyclists, being almost 1500 metres high, with gradients from 5 to 8% on the 13km route from the valley below. The view from the top was truly amazing, and we did pass some cyclists testing themselves on the narrow road to the summit. In the photo here, the valley floor is visible to the left of the resting cyclist and to right of the post.
Difficult as it was to leave the idyllic picnic spot with the view as seen below, the Dickasons returned to the valley, then took a different route back to Tillac.
The Clio passed through alpine villages with white water streams, artisanal shops, markets, and with signs pointing to the many ski hills in the region.
Other highlights of the Pyrenees week were the visits to Pau, the Cathedral Ste. Marie with its huge organ, and to many nearby picturesque bastide towns. Pau was almost 100km to the west, but the recommendations in the journals made this longer drive a must. It is a large city with over 60 000 inhabitants, and the site was fortified in the 11th century. Of the several attractions there, the Dickasons chose to begin with the Chateau, birthplace of Henry IV, complete with a museum with a remarkable collection of tapestries. But, the travel gods were not in a good mood - the sign at the locked entrance included the fateful words “La Greve.” There were rotating strikes across France and the staff of the museum had not reported to work.
However, Pau had other attractions, and the plan B included the Funiculaire which connected the upper and lower levels of the city, the Casino, the wide streets and pleasant walkways and parks. Unfortunately the British tourists had discovered Pau, and many of the shops and restaurants had English names and featured products designed to bring in the visitors from the UK.
Pau was the site of Les’ second most embarrassing travel experience [remember ‘humping’ at the Winnipeg station?]. Previously, the notes and coins of the ‘old French’ money, francs and centimes, had been taken from the 3377 safe and carried to France on visits to the cottages, but attempts to change them to Euros were not successful. Small towns and cities did not have a branch of the required Banque de France where the change to Euros could be made, and a deadline of February 2005 had been announced. Pau did have a national bank, and the Dickasons parked on a nearby street, entered the grounds after explaining the reason for the visit to the armed guard in the gate house, and joined the short queue inside after using the complicated speaker phone system at the front door to the main floor to gain admission.
With new Euros in hand, when walking out along the driveway, the Dickasons watched as a huge armoured truck squeezed slowly through the gates. Les pulled out his camera and tried to line-up a scenic shot of the truck and the gates and gatehouse. But, not finding a ‘keeper’ composition in the viewfinder, Les put the lens cap on and pocketed his camera as an alarm sounded, lights flashed, the gate closed, and an armed guard appeared from nowhere, demanded the camera and firmly escorted Les to the front door of the bank. In halting French, and with the aid of the English of a second guard from inside the building, Les explained why he had visited the bank, where he was from, where he was staying, and ensured the questioners that he had not taken a photo. The two guards took a few steps, discussed the situation, then returned the camera and allowed Les to rejoin Pat and wait for the lights to stop flashing and the gate to re-open so they could leave, start breathing again, and return to the car. There are no pictures to show to illustrate this embarrassing story!
The influence of the British tourists also had a negative effect on Tillac in that the promised restaurant just outside the town gate, Le Relais de la Tour, had opened since the first short visit, but proved to be a French version of a British pub. The owners, from the UK and South Africa, were pleasant hosts, but the Dickasons had but one drink there one evening and decided the offering of beers and crisps from Britain and patrons who spoke only English did not rank highly on the list of reasons for renting cottages in France.
An unexpected highlight one morning was the medieval walled village of St. Bertrand de Comminges with its roman ruins, a Romanesque cathedral [with Gothic additions and a Renaissance organ], and the famous goats with their bells ringing as they roamed the fields outside the walls.
Our final full day broke a temperature record with a maximum of 33C under sunny skies. The restaurant review book had several raves about a small family run Chez Georgette in a bastide town, Barran, which was 30km from Tillac. Arriving mid-morning we passed a castle, crossed a 16th century stone bridge over the river and watched swans in a moat outside the village. Geese were used as guards inside the stone walls of several gardens - as Les discovered when he walked close to a gate without seeing the
goose which lunged in a loud attack which was thwarted by the gate.
One of the other attractions in this idyllic setting was the church - with a twisted steeple [pictured in the photo below]. The restaurant lived up to its reputation, and the Friday four-course lunch special included only local ingredients, and wines from nearby producers too.
Siesta was required on such a hot afternoon, and after house-cleaning and packing, an evening stroll around the Tillac village completed the week in the fifth of the six cottages in France owned by the Richards. Only one remained, but before the Dickasons completed the circuit, there was one more rental of two previously visited cottages - with friends Janet and Roy from Nanaimo [previously Vancouver, Chicago and Claremont].
The Taylors had some commitments in Europe in early spring 2004, and almost a year before that suggested we four could share a vehicle and the cottage rental costs. The Pyrenees and Haute-Provence worked well with the Taylor’s other plans, and were available for the dates needed.
Once again, Europcar through Andre in Montreal was contacted, this time for an SUV-type Renault Kangoo, which the Dickasons collected in Toulouse at the airport early on Friday morning. The rendezvous with the Taylors was to be at the train station in Carcassonne, and the Kangoo with its box shape and sliding rear doors easily accommodated the luggage and four adults when the pick-up was made. Two rooms had been reserved at a small hotel in the centre of nearby Castelnaudry for the Friday night, and though the location was perfect, the rooms were on the third floor, accessible only by a narrow winding staircase. Only one suitcase at a time could be carried as the quartet negotiated the many landings several times to reach the rooms with all of the luggage. The dinner in the hotel restaurant soon had Taylors and Dickasons relaxed, and an early night helped the latter to conquer some of the jet-lag.
The drive south on Saturday was in cool, grey, showery weather and the Pyrenees were not visible when we reached Mirepoix, but later in the week, they appeared with a heavy covering of snow. Shopping at the nearby supermarket was completed before we used the keys to open the cottage and the experienced Dickasons showed the Taylors around La Maison des Penitents Blancs.
During the time in this cottage some trips were to sites previously seen by the Dickasons, and some were chosen because they were new. Cathar castles, the Prehistoric Art Park, the church in the rock at Vals, Carcassonne, a long day driving
to Albi for the Toulouse Lautrec Museum, a return visit to the organic winery at Castel Negre [see photo below], markets and dining at home easily filled the quickly passing days.
The drive from Mirepoix to Buis les Baronnies in the fully-loaded and underpowered Kangoo was long and tiring, but with the knowledge from the previous visit, the cottage was found quickly and no assistance from young boys was required.
The weather was cool for most of the week; there was still snow on Mont Ventoux though the road on one side was open. With a low ceiling and showers, the views were elusive from the summit. On the return from the mountain, the gas gauge was showing just under a quarter full, so the Kangoo was pulled into a gas station to ensure a full tank for the next day’s planned trip. The convenience store was closed, it being Sunday afternoon, but the pumps were unlocked and appeared to be operating. Les inserted his VISA card, but discovered that the pump did not respond, and worse, the card did not return. Despite efforts with fingers, a screwdriver and paper clips, eventually hope of retrieving the card disappeared and we continued to Buis.
There, the car was successfully filled, and, given that we did not plan to drive all the way back to the gas station near Mont Ventoux again, a collect call to VISA reported the ‘lost’ card. The pleasant agent in Toronto who answered Les’ call was most amused by the story of the gas pump ‘swallowing’ the VISA card. She cancelled the card, promising to mail a replacement to Nanaimo in time for our return. Pat’s card was used for the balance of the trip.
Day trips were to markets, Vaison La Romaine [where another Ansatu print was purchased], and Nyons for tasting and buying olives at the Co-op. The Buis market was bustling and included some new vendors, and we all enjoyed lunch after the market at one of the restaurants under the arcades. Despite the need for jackets because of the weather that week, picnics featured on several days, though dining at home, with Dickasons and Taylors alternating culinary duties was enjoyed each night. Local lamb, pork, chicken, were prepared simply - preceded and followed by pates and cheese - and all enjoyed with the wines from the Mont Ventoux and Beaumes de Venise appellations, with the plastic jug put to good use again.
Some of the cottages had a set for petanque or boules stored in a cupboard, and Buis had a lovely esplanade under trees beside the river where locals often
played. So Les and Roy took the set there, and with much encouragement from Pat and Janet and amusement for the locals, soon developed some skills - Roy leading 25 to 23 before the chill began to set in and the quartet walked back to the heated house for appetizers and pre-dinner drinks.
One of the reasons the Taylors were in Europe was to visit a friend in Switzerland and this required that they leave the Buis cottage two days early. Their train reservation was from Orange, a large city about an hour’s drive to the west.
An accident on the outskirts and resultant stalled traffic delayed progress and made us all very pleased we had left the cottage in plenty of time to reach the station on Thursday.
After confirming that the train was on time and which platform it would depart from, farewells followed, and the Dickasons set off to explore Orange. This city was an important Roman centre and the beautiful Arc de Triumph dates back to Augustus and draws many tourists. Nearby was the Roman theatre, reputed to be the most impressive in Europe and still in use, and the Dickasons climbed to the top seats and heard a demonstration of the acoustics when a guide leading a tour spoke to her group from the stage. With the now expected Dickason jinx, no events were planned in this very active theatre for the week of either visit to the Haute Provence cottage. Pat, in the yellow jacket is visible to the left in the photo below.
Once again it was time for housecleaning and packing, and a final dinner before heading back towards Toulouse. Knowing that it was a long drive from Buis to Toulouse, a night was booked in an auberge in Nailloux about 50km to the south east of the city, but within easy reach of the airport the following day. This facilitated the return of the Kangoo, check-in and start of the return to Canada. Over dinner in Nailloux, the Dickasons discussed the advantages and disadvantages of re-visiting cottages and made plans for another trip to France to complete the cycle of the six cottages.... Provence would be next.
The Richards maintain a website for their cottages, and maps and details can be found there - www.cottagesinfrance.com.
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