The South of France: Paraza, Languedoc-Roussillon

What a delight this area is. They say it’s like Provence thirty years ago and I can see why. It has a raw beauty that’s a bit rough still around the edges without the manicured prettiness of parts of Provence, and it’s still a relatively untouristed region, far more so than I had imagined when I worried that everyone would speak English and there might be a lack of authenticity.

But the small rural villages remain much as they have for centuries, baked dry by the sun, faded green shutters shut tight against the heat all day as well as at night. Swallows and house martins still make their nests of mud and straw high up under the eaves of houses and churches. Old men sit on park benches in the shade and talk about days gone by or the latest rugby match, and recommend good local wines to complete strangers.

We stayed in a converted wine-maker's house in Paraza on the Canal du Midi where these days holiday-makers from canal boats provide the main source of income for the village. Nights are warm in summer and the sun was high by 9am with temperatures soaring quickly to around 33C every day. It was a bright, hot heat and the swimming-pool was the best way to stay cool. Either that or the air-conditioned car.

 

 

We ate and drank well. A crunchy baguette from the shop down the road cost a euro ($1.60), a luscious rock melon was two, black olives from the local market were a couple of euros for a bagful and a bottle of good rosé about five ($8). We ate in mostly, cooking in the kitchen of our lovely full-of-character house. It was the coolest room.

The Canal du Midi passed by not far from our front door, its waters providing a relaxing break for dozens of holidaymakers. We preferred to hire bikes and cruise some of the towpaths and tiny lanes, mostly smooth and flat, which form part of the 500 kilometre bike route from Bordeaux on the Atlantic to Sète on the Mediterranean - a future adventure?

We cycled through the pretty village of Ventenac, bright with flowering oleander and geraniums, to the even more charming Le Somail with its little stone bridge and canal-side café, a delightful spot to sit and watch the boats go by. There is even a grocery shop on a house-boat on the canal and, nearby, what is reputed to be the most extensive second-hand bookshop in the world!

We passed fields of sun-bleached barley under huge blue skies. Fat, ripening grapes hung on vines everywhere, in fields, on river terraces and amongst limestone outcrops. The area from Carcassonne to the Mediterranean is the largest wine-producing wine region in France and there are domaines (wine-producers selling their wines) in even the tiniest of villages. The land is hot and dry. To the north it rises through gorges and gullies to a plateau where vineyards stretch for miles. To the south it climbs more sharply to the foothills of the Pyrenees studded with Cathar castles straddling impossibly steep crags.

A day trip to Carcassonne was a must, even though it’s so crowded and touristy. But it’s such an impressive structure, surrounded by an enormous moat, its vast ramparts and landmark grey conical towers rising steeply from the town at its base. Much of the old town inside remains: narrow cobbled streets, the castle, the church, shops and houses, even some hotels. We watched tourists buying key rings and candyfloss and tried to imagine something of who had gone before.

  To the east, past the elegant city of Narbonne with its lofty cathedral, bustling market and spacious canal-side promenades, are the wide sandy beaches of the Mediterranean. Here, fish-eaters can find much to enjoy. On the recommendation of our house’s owner, we found a café which serves the freshest fish and seafood. You sit on wooden benches under a canopy of shade by a salt-pan, red by day from the algae within, then turning blue in the evening as the sun sets. Your cutlery, plate and glass arrive wrapped in a tea-towel and you can sip a cold just-pink local rosé and indulge in prawns, oysters, a huge stuffed crab or a whole fish cooked in a salt bath.