On the Road Again
4:17 PM
After Carcasonne, one of those challenges of travel, the long stretches "between"--4 1/2 hours more to Biarritz, on the bus. A nice bus, brand new (we were the first group in it), but a bus.
Liz entertained us with stories about what we wouldn't see. There to the south, in the Rhone River wetlands, lived "the white horses of Camargue," a phrase poetic enough that I may have to go back just to hang out in a little village there, and stare at the horses [here, read more ] and the flocks of flamingoes.
And Liz told us that this week was the gathering of gypsies, come on pilgrimage on May 24 to the south of France where Sarah, the maidservant of the Three Marys, landed--one of their origin stories. And there is some Da Vinci Code link in this, too.
More stories--Liz talked about her old, old home in Glastonbury, where supposedly Joseph of Arimathea had brought Christianity, the Holy Grail, and a "thorn" from the Cross to Britain. I lost the connection here, though there is some link to France. ??
And we would later pass north of the tiny country of Andorra, ruled jointly by the bishop and the President of France, who inherited the title and allegiance when the Revolution got rid of the King, oh, a while back. I was ready to detour, to visit Andorra, since I seem to have traveled in large circles around it several times, but alas, on we drove to the coast--occasionally with the ballet of windmills (though this photo might have been earlier in the day).
But the countryside we drove through was pretty, gradually changing from lowland farms to distant mountains, the Pyrenees, and the group got tired of history. Liz put in a movie (new bus!) to keep us from being too cranky (all except David, who rejected all the romance)--My Life in Ruins. Here, the official trailer. Seems like it might be a good preview of our trip to Turkey and Greece next May.
Still no plans for Andorra.
bob
Liz entertained us with stories about what we wouldn't see. There to the south, in the Rhone River wetlands, lived "the white horses of Camargue," a phrase poetic enough that I may have to go back just to hang out in a little village there, and stare at the horses [here, read more ] and the flocks of flamingoes.
More stories--Liz talked about her old, old home in Glastonbury, where supposedly Joseph of Arimathea had brought Christianity, the Holy Grail, and a "thorn" from the Cross to Britain. I lost the connection here, though there is some link to France. ??
And we would later pass north of the tiny country of Andorra, ruled jointly by the bishop and the President of France, who inherited the title and allegiance when the Revolution got rid of the King, oh, a while back. I was ready to detour, to visit Andorra, since I seem to have traveled in large circles around it several times, but alas, on we drove to the coast--occasionally with the ballet of windmills (though this photo might have been earlier in the day).
Still no plans for Andorra.
bob
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