French Sojourn

For a small country Belgium can be quite complicated. It has three official languages, French, Dutch and German and is divided into three regions, namely Flanders, the Dutch-speaking north, Wallonia, the French-speaking south and Brussels, a sort of bilingual island stranded in the middle. Ghent is staunchly Flemish. I am staying at the Novotel, which is next door to 13th century Dutch Gothic St-Niklasskerk, so, as St Nicholas is the Patron Saint of sailors, I made the church my first port of call. The entrance is rather striking with bluish-grey stone turrets on either side of a single tower. Once inside one is also struck by its giant sized Baroque High Altar with the mammoth figure of God the Father, surrounded by cherubs, fulminating on the Last Judgement. More tomorrow.

I began the day at the medieval Abbaye de la Cambre. Its attractive main courtyard serves as the entrance to the rather charming Église Notre-Dame de l'Abbaye. Inside, the church is quite simple with its rough stone walls and barrel vaulted nave. On one of its walls hangs the revered early 16th century painting "The Mocking of Christ" by Albert Bouts, depicting a mournful, blood-spattered Jesus. Adjacent to the altar was a small cloister with an inner terraced garden and an old abbatial pond, which was pleasant to stroll around. I next visited the delightful Musée Victor Horta, which consisted of two houses designed and lived in by the famous Art Nouveau architect at the end of the nineteenth century. The exterior set the tone with its knotted and twisted irowork. Photos were not allowed inside but his home displayed all of Horta's favourite flourishes such as wrought iron, stained glass and ornate panelling. The main feature was the spiralling marble staircase runnin

I moved from my AirBnB apartment to an Ibis hotel near the railway station this morning in readiness for my departure for Ghent on Saturday. When I am in Europe I frequently use Accor Hotels and on my arrival I was pleasantly surprised to see, I suppose in recognition of this, that they had upgraded me to their prestigious Beer Room, in reality a mini museum in one's bedroom with scores of craft beer lined up against the wall and even one of those football games one plays by twirling the handles. What fun! I started the day at the 14th century Halle Gate from which the city defended itself during the Middle Ages. Here is some of the armour used by the knights and their horses. I continued my walk through the aristocratic Upper Town with its grand mansions and palaces. I had a little rest at the Place du Sablon with its lovely garden. If you expand the picture you will see on the top of the fountain a statue of the Counts, Egmont and Hoorn, who were beheaded on the Grand-Place in 15

Besides craft beer and chocolates Belgium is famous for its waffles so, of course, I had one with miel (honey) for le petit déjeuner. The image I showed yesterday of the Manneken Pis was a reproduction. Here is the tiny real deal. If you expand the photo you will see him in all his glory. And not to be outdone his petite soeur, Jeanneke Pis, decided to join in and make a splash! My first stop was a visit to the splendid Gothic Cathédrale  Saint-Michel, the Archangel, which begun in 1215 and took 300 years to complete. The cathédrale has a striking, twin towered white stone façade, but this tends to fade away with the beauty of the cavernous triple-aisled nave inside. Not far away was another beautiful church, the 15th century Flamboyant Gothic Église Notre-Dame du Sablon with its original and glorious stained-glass windows. For lunch I went to the Vieux Marché aux Poissons and déjeunered on des huitres (oysters) and scampi straight from the sea.

I started the day with le petit déjeuner at the Grand-Place, one of Europe's grandest and historical squares, filled with flamboyant Baroque style former Guildhouses. The Grand-Place is dominated by the majestic 15th century Hôtel de Ville with its 96 metre spire soaring above its mutiple windows and arcaded gallery. I spent most of the day looking around the area known as the Lower Town, which contained some picturesque squares such as the Place des Martyrs, representing the 445 rebels who died in the Belgium revolution of 1810 and some wonderful buildings like the grandiose Bourse, a Neoclassical structure built in 1873 as the city's former Stock Exchange. Nearby was the Baroque Église Sainte-Catherine, a little battered from the Wars of Religion. However, inside was a sensually carved stone statuette of a 14th century Black Madonna, that was thrown into the River Senne by Protestants, but fished out while floating on a fortuitous clod of peat. I finished the day at the Manne

Here's the young chap back where he started in that delightful ville, Bergerac. It was Sunday so, as usual, I made my way to the Église Notre-Dame for the Choral Mass. A young lady with a lilting soprano voice conducted the singing. It was a magical start to the day. Afterwards  I headed to the Old Town for a final promenade, where I came across an international jeu d'escrime (fencing) between France and the Netherlands in one of the squares On the way I passed a narrow street with some picturesque medieval timber and stone houses, which are still lived in. Nearby was the 12th century church of Saint-Jacques with its amazing façade and belfry. I finished up by saying au revoir to Cyrano de Bergerac. In reality Cyrano is mythical. His genesis goes back to 1385 when the king granted  Raymond de la Rivière land in the Chevreuse valley for winning back Bergerac from the English. Naturally he named his property "Bergerac". In 1620  his descendent, Hercules d

I began the day at the Place de la Victoire, an enormous animated square where there is another masive gate, La Porte d'Aquitaine, errcted in 1753. From there I went to the Chartrons district and walked around this former grand commercial area with its stately 18th century manions such as l'Hotel Fenwick. This grand residence with two pavillons on top for observing the shipping movements in the port was built in 1796 for the American Consul. Nearby was the Église Saint-Louis with its stunning neo-gothic twin belfries culminating at 58 metres. This was my last day in this beautiful city and what a wonderful time I have had wandering around. Tomorrow I head back to Bergerac to spend a couple of days with my friend, Katy, before flying to Brussels. I have mentioned Bergerac previously so my next post will be from Brussels in 3 or 4 days.

My balade this morning commenced by walking across the Pont de Pierre, a canal bridge spanning the Garonne and linking Bordeaux with the area on the other side known as La Bastide. This stone bridge was built by Napoleon in 1810. A little further past the bridge I came across the stunning Église Sainte-Marie de la Bastide built in 1867 by Paul Abadie on marshland. You may notice similarities with the Église Sacré Coeur de Montmarte, which was built by the same architect. La Bastide also has a Jardin Botanique which contained some Australian flora such as willow myrtle, bottle brush and cypress pine. Back on the other side on my way home I passed The Théâtre Français, one of Bordeaux's original theatres built in classical style in the 18th century with Doric and Ionic columns.

I commenced my walk this moning at the gorgeous Porte Cailhau. This 35 metre high monument dates back to 1494 and was built to commemorate the victory over the kingdom of Naples by Charles V11. From its summit one gets a panoramic view of the River Garrone. Next I went to the Musée des Beaux-Arts to view their priceess collection of paintings and sculptures with artists such as Matisse, Renoir and Picasso. Here is a glimpse of what the port of Bordeaux looked like in 1804. I finished up at the Palais Gallien, a Roman amphitheatre dating back to the 2nd century AD where up to 25,000 spectators watched gladiator contests.

I started my walk at the fairy tale Grosse Cloche, one of the oldest belfries in France built in the 15th century. The bell, named Amande-Louise, weighs 7,750 kgs. I then proceeded to the massive Porte de Bourgogne, one of numerous 18th century gates built to protect the city and named after the Duc de Bourgogne, the grandson of Louis XV. Next I moved on to the 14th century Basilique Saint-Michel, built in gothic flamboyant architectural style. The Basilica is an important stage for pilgrims on their journey to Santiago de Compostella.

Bordeaux, City of Art and History, sitting on the banks of the mighty Garonne River rivals Paris for its elegance and the sheer number of historical monuments such as the Monument aux Girodins, dedicated to a group of moderate, bourgeois National Assembly deputies executed during the French Revolution in 1793 for counter-revolutionary activities. Another edifice of great beauty is the Cathédrale Saint-André, which dates back to the 12th century. I shall look forward to my brief séjour here. p

Marmande, a fertile market gardening town known as the "tomato capital" of the region, is not really a tourist destination but is well worth a visit as it is surrounded by lovely small villages. It also well known for its excellent AOC Côtes du Marmandais wine, the quality of which I can certainly testify to. Its main church, the 13th century Église Notre-Dame, has a really lovely cloister around a classical French garden with verdant shaped parterres and a pond and fountain to complete the idyllic setting. I came across this medieval half-timbered house during a walk around the town. Tomorrow I head to beautiful Bordeaux for five days.

Agen on the banks of the mighty Garonne, which flows through South-West France and Northern Spain before finally debouching into the Atlantic Ocean at Bordeaux, is another charming town with old lanes and  handsome wooden and brick houses. My first stop on my morning walk was the composite Romanesque and Gothic Cathédrale Saint-Caprais with its gorgeous water-coloured frescoes on the domed ceiling above the Altar and Choeur. I next headed to the Musée des Beaux-Arts, magnificently housed in four adjacent 16th and 17th century Renaissance mansions with its huge variety of archeological exhibits dating back to Roman times such this 2nd century AD head of a consul and a wonderful Art collection of painters such as Goya and Tintoretto. The town is famous throughout the world for its Pruneaux d'Agen (dried prunes) with their exotic flavours such as Armagnac, introduced by Benedictine monks, and I made sure to sample them. Tomorrow I continue west to Marmande.

Each town and village in South-West France has its individual charm and Montauban, originally a bastide on the River Tarn dating back to 1144, with its harmonious ensemble of warm, red brick houses, is no exception. On the same square as my hotel stands the monumental 18th century  Cathédrale Notre-Dame. Another gorgeous symmetrical church is the Église Saint-Orens with its 65 metre high clocher and beautiful Art Deco stained glass windows. The social heart of Montauban around which everything is centred, is La Place National. It is similar to the Place des Vosges in the Marais district of Paris only bigger and better with its outer perimeter in the form of an arched cloister, an inner walkway of cobbled stones and ancient stone pavers in the centre. One can relax here in one of its comfortable lounge bars and enjoy an evening drink or three. Tomorrow I change direction and head west to Agen.

Adjacent to the Pont Valentré stands the original pumphouse or Maison de l'Eau, built by Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, Emperor of France, in 1852 and which first supplied potable water to Cahors using the hydraulic power of the River Lot. Cahors has a series of secret gardens hidden away in courtyards and lanes and even in the cloister of the Cathédrale and I spent an enjoyable afternoon seeking them out. They are a delight and display flowers and herbs historically connected with the town. Here is the gorgeous Jardin Mauresque or Moorish Garden.  Tomorrow I take the train further south to Montauban.

This morning I took a balade or stroll around Cahors. My first stop was Le Barbacane, a fortification dating back to the Middle Ages. One could see the narrow vertical openings in its defensive structure from which an arquebus, a 15th century long gun limited to a range of about 50 metres, was fired. I continued on to the Cathédral St-Étienne, a 12th century Romanesque church with two monumental blue domes and an elaborately decorated portal above the north door. After this I took a relaxing croisière or cruise on the River Lot, which took us under a few of the elegant, ancient bridges spanning the river. However none were as stunning as the Pont Valentré with its three fortress towers dating back to the 14th century. These towers were originally closed off by gates and portcullises or heavy gratings that could be lowered down grooves on each side of a gateway to block entry. This fortified bridge was so imposing that it was never attacked.

What a picturesque provincial town is Cahors, the compact modern capital of the Lot department. It is surrounded on three sides by the River Lot, which meanders around the centre ville like a horseshoe while its northern entry is protected by a series of 14th century fortifications. I am staying at the Terminus Hotel, a little jaded but still grandiose former 19th century bourgeois mansion and will chill out here for a few days. The hotel has a famous restaurant with Michelin stars called Le Balandre, named after the former flat-bottomed sailing vessels transporting coal through the canals, and I shall look forward to dining in its elegant strained glass salle à manger and imbibing the distinctive Cahors full-bodied red, which is so dark it is often referred to as a "black wine".

It was Friday Market Day in the Place Saint-Martin outside my hotel so I lingered there for a while before heading south-east to Rocamadour, an important destination for pilgrims and has been so for over 1,000 years. It was built on the site of a shrine to the Black Madonna and naturally is a stop on the pilgrimage path to Santiago de Compostella. Rocamadour has a beautiful and dramatic setting as it literally climbs up a cliff face perched above the deep canyon of the River Alzou, while at the very peak stands the Château de Rocamadour and I was able to take a stroll around its ramparts for a panoramic view of the valley below. I took the funicular down to the village with its medieval houses and numerous chapels with their turrets and spires before ascending rather laboriously the worn and pitted 216 steps of the Grand Escalier, once climbed by pilgrims on their knees. I think a short poem about Rocamadour best describes it. Les maisons sur le ruisseau, Les églises sur les