Day 15
As we drove out of the valley and headed south on A9, for the first time we were able to view the entire summit of Mount Canigou. We marvelled at the massive peak, as it sat majestically in the distance, so beautifully framed against the cerulean blue sky. And then we continued on, for we had one more stop to make in France before crossing the border....Ceret. Our hosts in Spain had mentioned that we should pick up some of the famous Ceret cherries as we made our way to their B&B from the Pyrenees, and we couldn't disappoint them.
Ceret is the last exit on the A9 autoroute in France before crossing the border into Spain. It's yet another charming little town in France that has had its share of famous artists in residence- including Chaim Soutine, Picasso and Juan Gris. There is a renowned museum of modern art in Ceret that we didn't visit, but for enthusiasts, it's supposedly a must see.
But, our real mission here was the cherries. I thought it would be easy, since they were in season, to find a little shopkeeper selling them. Come on now, cherries must be pouring out of chimneys this time of year, no? As we wandered through town, I was disappointed that we were finding ourselves in yet another S.O.L. position. After wandering for nearly twenty minutes, my husband spied a wooden sign advertising cherries for sale. He tore down the street (it was nearly 1pm, lunch closing time for many stores) in hopes of procuring the precious cherries. The cherry vendor was in an old building with the wooden doors that latch when closed. Inside, there were massive tables laden with nothing but cherries for sale- three different varieties. The dark purple cherries were the sweetest and melted in your mouth like candy made from spring water. The red were also sweet, but with a bit of a tart edge(but not as tart as the Michigan cherries I grew up with). And the pale yellowish red ones had the most delicate taste, I wanted them to taste like cherry flavored custard, but alas, it was not to be. Preferring the deeper flavors, we chose a half kilo each of the dark purple and the red semi-tart. Whew. Mission accomplished.
En route back to the old part of town and our car, we passed by a wine shop for the Vigneron Dom Brial. Since we had enjoyed the wine we had with our picnic the night before (and a thankful nod to Sharon for first telling us about the wonderful Dom Brial wines), I wanted to see if we could pick up another bottle or two.
Sometimes people's dreams do come true, and then unfortunately, sometimes they don't work out quite the way they had hoped. Sharon and Barry had opened L'Ombre du Fort two years ago, with dreams similar to ours. We learned during our visit that due to a number of reasons, this was to be their last season. They had sold the B&B and were returning to Ireland. It's a loss to us and to future travellers. I know we would have made a return visit.
It was time to shove off. We said our good-byes to Sharon and sincerely wished her and her family all the best. We had really enjoyed the Pyrenees and looked forward to returning to the region again. But onward ho! We were headed to Spain for two nights. Being so close to the Spanish border, we (well, I) thought it would be interesting to get a taste of Catalunya from the Spanish side...and see if we would find ardor outside of la belle France.
It was time to shove off. We said our good-byes to Sharon and sincerely wished her and her family all the best. We had really enjoyed the Pyrenees and looked forward to returning to the region again. But onward ho! We were headed to Spain for two nights. Being so close to the Spanish border, we (well, I) thought it would be interesting to get a taste of Catalunya from the Spanish side...and see if we would find ardor outside of la belle France.
As we drove out of the valley and headed south on A9, for the first time we were able to view the entire summit of Mount Canigou. We marvelled at the massive peak, as it sat majestically in the distance, so beautifully framed against the cerulean blue sky. And then we continued on, for we had one more stop to make in France before crossing the border....Ceret. Our hosts in Spain had mentioned that we should pick up some of the famous Ceret cherries as we made our way to their B&B from the Pyrenees, and we couldn't disappoint them.
Ceret is the last exit on the A9 autoroute in France before crossing the border into Spain. It's yet another charming little town in France that has had its share of famous artists in residence- including Chaim Soutine, Picasso and Juan Gris. There is a renowned museum of modern art in Ceret that we didn't visit, but for enthusiasts, it's supposedly a must see.
It was a lazy and tranquil Friday morning, as shopkeepers and townspeople unhurriedly went about their business. Strolling down the Avenue d'Espangne, we relished in the pleasant shade offered by the plane trees lining this wide boulevard at the foot of the fortified city. It was nice not to feel rushed even though our visit would be short. After a cup of coffee at a cafe, we enjoyed another picturesque stroll through the old city, with it's stone gray whitewashed buildings and narrow cobble-stone streets.
But, our real mission here was the cherries. I thought it would be easy, since they were in season, to find a little shopkeeper selling them. Come on now, cherries must be pouring out of chimneys this time of year, no? As we wandered through town, I was disappointed that we were finding ourselves in yet another S.O.L. position. After wandering for nearly twenty minutes, my husband spied a wooden sign advertising cherries for sale. He tore down the street (it was nearly 1pm, lunch closing time for many stores) in hopes of procuring the precious cherries. The cherry vendor was in an old building with the wooden doors that latch when closed. Inside, there were massive tables laden with nothing but cherries for sale- three different varieties. The dark purple cherries were the sweetest and melted in your mouth like candy made from spring water. The red were also sweet, but with a bit of a tart edge(but not as tart as the Michigan cherries I grew up with). And the pale yellowish red ones had the most delicate taste, I wanted them to taste like cherry flavored custard, but alas, it was not to be. Preferring the deeper flavors, we chose a half kilo each of the dark purple and the red semi-tart. Whew. Mission accomplished.
En route back to the old part of town and our car, we passed by a wine shop for the Vigneron Dom Brial. Since we had enjoyed the wine we had with our picnic the night before (and a thankful nod to Sharon for first telling us about the wonderful Dom Brial wines), I wanted to see if we could pick up another bottle or two.
Inside the store, we happily discovered the wine we were looking for, and the helpful salesperson also pointed us to a limited edition 2001 red of which there we only two bottles left (and thanks to us, now there was only one!). And, an even bigger bonus- they carried one of my favorite French wines from the Languedoc region that I had been hoping to come across- Domaine La Fage. The La Fage white wine is a really wonderful white, with a little effervescence- like a Spanish Rueda, with good fruit/floral nose and enough grit to balance out the 'sweet'. Everyone I have introduced this wine to has fallen in love with it. I wanted to do a taste test, to see if there would be a difference between the imported bottles to the US and what I could get in France. Unfortunately, they were out of the white. But, they had a rose from Domaine La Fage that was a 2004 Silver Medal winner. And at only 4.90eu, it was an easy decision to add it to our well travelled collection of french wines.
As I was settling the bill, my husband noticed wine casks lining the wall behind the cash register- in other words- the fill'er up style of wine. He became very excited and begged me to ask the sales staff if it would be possible to fill up his own bottle and if there was a minimum amount that you had to purchase. Yes! And there was no minimum. But it became very comical (and apparent that my french was OK but a far cry from fluent), as I continued to translate and try to explain my husband's excitement and desire to fill an empty container with wine. They eventually understood, and even went so far as to offer up an empty Evian bottle for my husband to use. It was amusing to see my husband so excited, as he tanked up the recycled Evian bottle with red table wine. This moment had been two trips in the making, and to see that giddy, boyish grin on his face again, well, I don't know if you could put a price on it. In fact, he was so proud of being able to do this, he set up a little photo op before we left town with his conquests.
As we drove out of town, my roving eye spotted a banner hung on the side of a bridge, announcing the Festival Del Toros. On the bridge, perched above the banner was a giant dancing bull- cha-cha-chaing, with huge huevos del toros hanging between his legs. We were highly amused. It was an omen of sly humor to come...
Day 15 to be continued...
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