Sunday, May 19, 2013

May 18 To Turenne, a "Plus Beau Village"

After breakfast and paying our bill (something that seemed to be much-appreciated by our hosts) we bid adieu to Richard and Pauline. They were off to Mouchan to close up things in their home their before returning to the UK and we were returning back north with a brief stop in the Limousin region before dropping our car off at the Gare d'Austerlitz in Paris.

We had a grand time experiencing one of the more fascinatingly tragic chapters in the history of France. In some ways experiencing the Cathar lands in southern Languedoc was not unlike the last time we were with Richard and Pauline "feeling the power of the stones" in Brittany. Both were lands once inhabited by strange people now long gone leaving just stone and rock behind as mementoes of their existence.

Leaving Domaine Mournac we wound our way down the hillside, through Antugnac and Couzia. Once we reached Limoux we opted to forgo returning to Carcassonne and opted to take the back roads to Castelnaudry and pick up the A62 there. Driving north through light rain we again remarked on how this part o fFrance looked so much like Tuscany.

Bad weather couldn't spoil the views. By mid-afternoon we had reached our turnoff for Turenne just south of Brive la Gaillard, and before long we pulled in sight of one of the prettiest villages we've ever seen. This place has to be seen to be believed. Really, it's that cute.

We spent our one and only night here in LA Maison des Chanoines, which we found in a recent issue of France magazine.

The rain refused to let up but didn't hamper our efforts to explore the little village once we had checked into our hotel.  Before wandering up to the top of the hill and the roof of the tower, we stopped at two of the local shops (the only two open in fact). One was run by a local man and his wife where we purchased a delicious Gentian liqueur and the other operated by a young British woman who also runs a local gite in the village as well.

For dinner I had the veal cooked to perfection and Susie had the chicken; delicious food served in the quiet of a cosy, nearly subterranean dinning room.

Susie went with a delicate dessert while I sprang for the cheese plate:

The next morning we ate a scrumptious breakfast, packed ourselves in the car, paid the bill and hit the road north to Paris leaving the quiet of Turenne for the heady edginess of the City of Light.

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