Villecomtal, Aveyron

Backroad Wanderings: Palmas, Aveyron

Looking up at the Eglise Saint-Vincent de Palmas

Last Sunday we had magnificent weather here, and I was itching to get out and do a little more backroad exploration. Unfortunately -- no, let's say fortunately, it needed to be done -- my husband got me wrapped up in a home improvement project at about 3pm, right before I was planning to leave.

"It won't take long!" 

I've heard that before! 4pm, 5pm, 6pm...I finally hit the road in the early evening which, on what was a hot day, turned out to be most pleasant.

My only plan was to head east, as I know very little of the whole area between Gages, where we live, and the impressive medieval city of Sévérac-le-Château. 

My first stop, and the object of this post, was the tiny town of Palmas -- just 14 kilometres from my house, yet I had never set foot there.

A precarious and surprisingly accessible climb

I was pressed for time (grumble grumble, yet that home improvement project WAS worth it), and I'm afraid I didn't do the place justice. Naturally, I found myself drawn to the most clearly visible site to see: the stark yet stunning Eglise Saint-Vincent de Palmas.

Were there really no railings up this staircase?

I was intrigued at the apparently permitted possibility of climbling up an exterior staircase to a tiny terrace, and even more surprised to be able to open the iron gate to go into it.

I perched up there for a few minutes, feeling a bit dizzy, and forgot to take any photos looking down.

The narrow door at the top of the stairs

The door at the top of the stairs was only about a foot and a half wide -- I wondered about its purpose, and wondered even more about the advisability of passers-by (read:me) being able to climb up the stairs with no railing. But of course I was thrilled to be able to do so!

A church with a built-in mailbox

Front view of the bell tower

My visit to Palmas started and ended here. As the only person wandering around the village, I was already feeling conspicuous. An elderly woman had started observing me from her window; a dog started barking as I stood in front of its house to take this last shot.

My future backroad companion

I later found out I had missed a lot: the vestiges of a castle, three distinct "quartiers," a 16th century bridge. 

I have an excellent book by Daniel Crozes , a well-known local author, that gives an exhaustive wealth of information about every nook and cranny of Aveyron, but I have been consulting it after my outings only.

On further expeditions, Daniel Crozes will guide me -- at least once I've landed in the place I plan to explore. 

An emotional visit to Albi, a place that used to be home

Albi, looking UNESCO-picture-perfect

Albi was my first French home, and for years I carried around a heavy, lump-in-the-throat nostalgia about it.

We lived there for two years in the early 90s; our first daughter was born there; I easily imagined staying there indefinitely.

But professional changes led us to spend a few years in Touraine, and then return to the Midi-Pyrénées area: not to Albi (sniff -- no, sniffed), but to Aveyron -- as you all know.

Rodez is now less than an hour's drive from Albi, but when we arrived, the road was sinuous and slow, and we immediately figured out that with two small children, we weren't going to get back to Albi that often.

I was shocked, though, as I planned a day trip there last weekend with one of our exchange students, to find that I had not been back for exactly (to the day!) 7 years -- not counting, of course, driving past the town on the way to Toulouse.

Tourists come from far and near...and why wouldn't they?

A lot has happened there, even since 2008. The Episcopal City of Albi, including its cathedral, became a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2010, giving it the same worldwide cultural standing as Chartres Cathedral or the Pont du Gard. 

Albi was a tourist attraction even when I lived there, but the swarms of visitors in early May, and the rather alarming number of tourist-trappy-looking restaurants sprung up around the cathedral, attest to a significant boost in the town's popularity.

The St. Salvy/Salvi Cloisters, May 2, 2008

My favorite place in Albi, and one where I could always find a moment of cool calm when I lived there, is The St Salvy Cloisters. 

I'm glad I got this photo 7 years ago, because this time around, the cloisters were overtaken by a boisterous and vociferous group of young (but adult) Spanish tourists using the secluded site to take multiple photos in a variety of oh-so-amusing poses. 

Their raucous photo shoot took over half an hour, so I gave up on any hope of cloister "zénitude," as the French would put it -- athough I did think that was what cloisters were for, even now. Call me old-fashioned.  

Blooms have replaced the dirt in the previous photo, so at least I can reflect from the comfort of my own computer

The day marked a turning point for me. 

Yes, Albi, you are drop-dead gorgeous, certainly, at least at first glance,  the most beautiful medium-sized city in the region. I will definitely be back before 7 more years go by -- although perhaps in February.

And yes, you deserve your UNESCO status, and I might add in passing that the powers that be did a fantastic job fixing you up. You wear your honor well.

But, finally, after many years of "what-ifs," you no longer feel anything like what used to be home.

A few glimpses of Rodez: new and old

Striking view from the inside of the new Musée Soulages

Last weekend I got to play the tour guide to a friend of ours from Montpellier who barely knows Rodez. 

I'm proud to say that despite the glacial winds, she was duly impressed. 

I wish I had taken more photos, but I didn't want to slow her down with that. 

Other than in the museum, I also didn't want to take my gloves off.

We did two full afternoons of full-mode Rodez exploration, starting on Saturday with the Musée Soulages and tea at Café Bras. Even though "Soulages," as it is fondly called here, will soon have been open for a year, I still can't quite believe, even when I just walk past it, that Rodez is home to such a splendid modern art museum.

The cathedral bell tower in all its splendor

We moved on from the museum to the cathedral. Going up the stairway of the évêché is one of those things I only do if accompanied by a visitor, so the above is a view of the cathedral I had rather forgotten about. 

My friend was surprised that we could just wander into the Bishop's palace courtyard as we pleased, and it struck me that the cathedral has absolutely no surveillance either, at least at this time of year. 

Also, it never ceases to amaze me how few tourists one finds in Notre Dame de Rodez, despite its undeniable grandeur. We ran into only four other people inside -- quite a contrast to the teeming museum galleries.

I hope the many tourists coming into town to visit the Soulages museum aren't missing out on the city's huge and somewhat eerie cathedral. 

St. Martin de Cormières -- another find on the backroads of Aveyron

What's wrong with this picture?

Last week's visit to the snow-covered Lévézou area was not without a magical discovery: the St. Martin de Cormières church, a historical monument that is part of the community of Le Vibal.

I don't know why a telescopic crane had to be sitting next to it right at this time, but I guess machines have to live somewhere too.

Not a cathedral, but still...the work, the work

Although considered a small church, it is still quite imposing. We often hear about "the cathedral builders," but as I contemplated this more modest structure, I gave a thought to the efforts needed to build it in the XVth century. 

How long did it take? Were lives lost? Did the laborers work even through the glacial winter?

Once again, locked doors

I truly wasn't expecting the doors to be open, but I wish they had been; photos of the church here promise a magical and manicured interior.

  

Could this be the key? Certainly not...

Feeling like an intruder in the sleepy, snowy hamlet, I stole a quick photo of the cross on the village square. Only now, as I post the photo, do I notice the key on it. 

What could that symbolize? 

So much to think about....

A church definitely worth seeing in the winter

I suppose tourists are very rare here in the dead of winter -- and I even have to wonder about the summer, as nothing but the sign on the main road indicated the presence of this classified historic monument. 

I have a feeling I'll be back.

Further explorations: L'Eglise de St. Martin de Limouze

L'Eglise de St. Martin de Limouze, a gem of a church about 5 miles from Rodez

My wanderings are accumulating, and I will certainly need to be including more photos if I ever want to "catch up."

To pick up somewhat of a story line, these are all photos from the unforgettable day of January 7, 2014, when I went out exploring in what seemed like the most peaceful of worlds, and came back to work to a chilling reminder that even France is not that peaceful.

When I visited the site, there was a man parked in the church parking lot, seemingly doing nothing. Perhaps he was glued to his radio. 

No public entrance at random hours

Blissfully unaware of what was going on in the world, my main concern was whether this church just might be open.

No such luck, as is the case with most small churches in Aveyron these days. 

This must be a tourist site, however...

The edifice seems to be on a tourist route and ready to greet visitors in several languages, but January must not be the right time.

I'm ashamed to say I don't know what this is...
(PS: I do now -- see comments!)

So I contented myself with a walk around the grounds, and taking a look at the church from all sides and all angles.

The light was lovely that day...

The church is referenced on the official regional historical register website, and some photos of the interior are shown there.

This is a place I will go back to.

This all seems so long ago...

Approaching Anglars

When you follow the signs to Anglars, a hamlet that is part of the village of Bertholène, you can quickly tell that there is going to be something special about it.

L'Eglise d'Anglars/ The Anglars Church

The tiny community is home to a glowing 15th century church, with unusually bright stone for the area. One can almost imagine it in Provence. 

Yes, two weeks later, I am still writing about my New Year's Day exploration of Bertholène, a village only a few miles east of my house, and its surroundings. 

It all seems so long ago. I was buoyed by the sun, the thought of a new year, and memories of the lovely New Year's Eve party spent with friends.  

The next time I went out exploring was on January 7th, during my lunch hour. I had slipped out of work a bit after 12 without running into any colleagues, and enjoyed a peaceful, sunny break in an area I didn't know whatsoever. 

When I got back to my office at about 1:30, I checked the news.

Things haven't really been the same since.

Bertholène 3: The abandoned presbytery

Clearly, nobody is home

My best friend pointed out early on that I was "one of those people who liked to stick my nose up against windows of abandoned buildings."

I plead guilty. Nothing architectural gets my juices flowing like a good abandoned building, whether it be in the countryside or in the city; in the US or in France.

A few curtains are still up, which adds to the sense of mystery

Most every village church I have seen in France has a presbytère nearby. 

Sometimes it is totally separate from the church, walled off with a lovely yard, as is the case in my own village, Gages. 

Other times, it is across the street, or even a little ways down the road.

Unfortunately for its real estate future, Bertholène's is joined to the church at the hip by a short stone wall.

With plunging mass attendance and a shortage of priests, few, if any, village presbyteries in my area are inhabited by anyone connected to the church. But many are sold as private homes, and they do make lovely ones. 

Who was the last person to knock on this door?

Exploring in my own back yard: Bertholène 2

The austere 19th-century church of Bertholène

Yesterday's cliff-hanging episode of my New Year's Day adventure left me driving out of the surprisingly large Bertholène castle parking lot, feeling frustrated at not having been able to get close to the edifice's intriguing stones.

But then I noticed that the village church appeared accessible, so I parked again about 20 spaces further.

Does anyone out there remember when French churches were almost always open? When I moved to Aveyron 20 years ago, this was usually the case. 

But then again, a priest was often living in the presbytery right next door, which is usually no longer the case.

At any rate, the Bertholène church was resolutely locked, and looking quite lonely.

The abandoned presbytery gave off an even stronger sense of desolation...as we will see tomorrow.

Nature Outing with New York Daughter in Gages, Aveyron

View onto the Aveyron River from Gages

This is the view onto the Aveyron river from a little stone bridge just a few kilometers from our house. If the weather is nice, I stop there occasionally on the way back from the grocery store in Gages-le-Pont. 

With our New York daughter home for the holidays this week, I have enjoyed seeing Aveyron through her city eyes.

We had some splendid weather the days before Christmas, and one of the activities she really wanted to take part in was "getting out into nature" -- this from a young lady who couldn't be convinced to take a 45-minute family walk after the age of 13.  

So on Monday, we got out and about. We didn't undertake a long hike, but several short strolls, stopping at sites not far from our home.

Daphné admitted not really remembering that the above bridge view even existed.

Montrozier and its privately owned castle

Then we moved on to Montrozier, which is part of the Gages-Montrozier community, and historically, its starting point.

To me, Montrozier is a well-kept secret. I'm always surprised that so few tourists drop by  -- perhaps if the castle were public, it would draw some crowds. Then again, a stunning stone village that seems virtually undiscovered by anyone except the locals is a treat to visit too. 

View from Montrozier

Daphné was agog at pristine views such as this one, and I was touched to watch her rediscovering the beauties of her French home.

Gazing at grazing cows was a priority

She was also keen to see some animals. On this outing, we were only able to find cows, but when we got home, a local mare and colt had been left in the pasture next to our house, so she has been able to enjoy watching them all week. 

The church in Gillorgues

At one point, I took a road out of Montrozier that I was not familiar with at all. I had no idea where we were going, but knew we were definitely heading somewhere. We ended up in the little community of Gillorgues, officially part of the town of Bozouls. 

All of this was well and good, but after an afternoon "out in nature," a family Christmas, a day in Toulouse, and a number of outings to Rodez, Daphné knows it is time to head back to her job and 24/7 life in the big city.

Monday, she will be back on the plane.

The church of Gabriac, Aveyron

L'Eglise de Gabriac

October 31, 2014

This splendid yet little-reputed church is just miles from my house, yet I had never even noticed it. Perhaps I had never even driven past it. 

So many beautiful places so nearby; so many reasons to start this blog up again!

And so much to learn about the Blogger platform that I haven't touched for several years now! 

On. Vacation. Happy. Holidays.

Rodez's little Champs-Elysées, decked out for Christmas 2007

First, HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL!

I know many people work through the 24th of December, and even on the 25th.

But as a teacher, I have been sorely spoiled -- and working until 6pm this evening has made things seem, somehow, un-Christmasy to me.

I'm sure that will change tomorrow as I rush into gear to prepare a Christmas Eve meal...or as all four of us leave in a panic to approach an airport in a warmer climate.

One thing is sure: our Christmas will be atypical.

We are flying off on Christmas morning for a surprise European destination; the trip is the girls' -- and the family's -- main Christmas present.

Hopefully the weather will cooperate. For the moment, things are looking quite good, even if Aveyron is under an "alerte orange" for snow tomorrow.

To be continued, after the facts.