Pezenas and Narbonne

Day 9

Determined to spend as little time at our gite as possible, we set off immediately after breakfast for Pezenas and the weekly market. It seemed that we were becoming connoisseurs (or gourmands, depending on your point of view) of weekly village markets on this trip.

The market, with all the usual suspects, was in full swing when we arrived. Cheeses, produce, sausages, pastries and breads, olive oils and the best flower displays I had seen. I fell in love with the way bouquets were wrapped up- cellophane and butcher's paper tied with colorful ribbon, creating little freestanding vases. And for the first time in my life, I discovered the beauty of a blooming artichoke.

A well preserved medieval village, Pezenas was a joy to stroll through- the narrow cobble-stone streets, beautiful open squares, grayish-white stone buildings with their pastel colored shutters that shone so beautifully in the crisp sunlight. As we wandered down one of the streets, I spotted a bakery with Pezenas' specialty, clive pies in the window. Ever the intrepid gourmand- I had to try one. Hmmm-OK, it was tasty- but not really my cup of tea. A little too treacly.

We also noticed posters all over town announcing the "Reconstruction of Moliere". No festival activities seemed to be taking place as we continued exploring Pezenas and so we decided to bail and head to Narbonne.

Narbonne was majestic in relation to Pezenas' medieval charm. The crown jewels of Narbonne are the Palais des Archeveques and the Cathedral St. Just. Both structures are a jumble of architectural styles, as different sections were built over the span of several centuries.

Tucked away on the second floor of the Palais, we happened upon the Museum of Art and History. The fierce wind rattled against the windows as we explored the galleries. Though many fine paintings graced the walls, I was fascinated by the faience (earthenware pottery) room and the large gallery hall with pharmacist's jars on display.

The massive Cathedral St. Just pretty much floored me. Both inside and out, the architecture was astounding. It is the largest cathedral in France, according to one source I checked, but I could be wrong. I was entranced by the soaring height of the nave, the beautiful chandeliers, the rhythms created by the columns and windows. As you entered, there was a wall of marble 'merci' plaques, framing the patron saint of the cathedral. At the rear, behind the altar in the Lady's Chapel, was a beautiful white stone altarpiece from the 14th century that had been painstakingly restored to most of it's former glory. And of course, I had to snap photos of the bishops' sarcophagi (is that a word?) since religious effigies scare the beejeezus out of me.

Stuffed with enough art and historical culture for awhile, we deposited ourselves at a cafe for our sometime customary wine and cheese break. A debate ensued regarding where to spend our evening. My vote rang for Narbonne, but my husband convinced me to return to Pezenas, for the Moliere Festival.

We arrived back in Pezenas just as the festivities began. My initial fear that things would be too crowded immediately dissolved as we stumbled upon our first group of revelers. The mood in town was infectious! As we hurried through the streets, I felt like a kid at Christmas...when even though the last present you had unwrapped was great, you couldn't wait to tear open the next one to see what treasures awaited you.

There seemed to be about ten different groups, ranging from groups of tribal musicians to actors putting on plays to jugglers and even a roaming troupe of guardsman. Behind the main square, they had recreated a slice of medieval Pezenas, where the town fool pontificated and the actors horsed around. Near the Jewish ghetto, was another recreation of medieval life, where they had set up a pub and even had livestock and an old smith.

In the main square, as I was taking pictures of the guardsman- they decided to turn the tables on me. One grabbed my camera, while the oldest, most haggard looking and silliest grabbed me for our own photo shoot. What I couldn't see, was a third guard sticking his sword through my new friend's legs and making it rise up every time the guard kissed me. All in good fun. I laughed when my husband told me about the little joke.

We were both getting really hungry, but didn't want to miss out on any of the action. So I quickly ran to the emptiest looking restaurant in the square (for once, we could have cared less how good the food might be) to see if they had a table available for dinner. Luck was on our side again! We scored a table with a perfect view of the entertainment. And luckily, our food was pretty good too. I ordered grilled calamares and my husband had some kind of meat stew. As the festivities continued on, we were impressed by the level of acting from the troupe that staged a short play, including their sword stage-fighting abilities. And every time the fool passed through the square, we laughed as he set off 'bombs' that made everyone in the restaurant around us jump in their seats.

Eventually, the troupes took leave for their own dinner, and the square was taken over by children and adults who heartily indulged in a huge hay fight, desiccating the bundles stacked everywhere.

After dinner, we grabbed some gelato and reworked our way through the town, enjoying the infectious joy of the revelers in the warm glow of the evening light.

As we fell into bed that night, we both remarked at what a wonderful and unexpected day we had enjoyed.