Quillan Castle and the River Aude, Quillan

On Ascension (May, Thursday), we left Carcassonne for a day trip by an SNCF bus which arrived at its final destination perhaps an hour later--Quillan.  This town/village of 3,591 people does not get much space in English tour guides, but it is ideal for anyone interested in hiking on marked trails in the surrounding mountains (foothills to folks from British Columbia) or exploring crafts and local foods and wines, all of which are excellent.  We were there on a major holiday, which meant nearly everything was closed.   Although France is a post-Christian nation, its citizens take the traditional religious holidays very seriously indeed (as holidays from work).  The weather alternated between light rain and threats of rain, but this brought out the beauty of the fresh spring greens in trees and grasses.

Little remains of the 12th-c. Cathar castle perched on the hill overlooking the village and the brisk River Aude fed by mountain streams.  The disastrous Albigensian Crusade crushed the economic and cultural fiber of the Languedoc and other southern regions which had somewhat generously tolerated the 10% who were Cathars rather than Catholics.  This ultimately meant that the other 90% paid a heavy price indeed for extending religious tolerance. Modern French society still debates religious freedoms, but now while facing immigration of French colonials who take religion seriously.

The ruined castle still has a few lower walls, several openings where sturdy gates once swung, and offers a lovely view of the traffic and village life below.  This was possibly the primary gate into the 12th-c fortification, a thick wall, possibly with double gates.

The walls were constructed according to the fashion of the day, by using stone fill with cement for the inner part of the wall and then covering that rough masonry with cut stones, some of which were surely "quarried" from the destroyed edifice and used to construct parts of the town once the townspeople realized the government to the north would never allow the castle to be rebuilt.

Some openings serving as doorways and windows can still be seen, as well as outlines of inner walls for rooms, stables, etc.

Castles are most often situated on high, defensible outcroppings which overlook strategic trade routes and rivers, presumably to exact levies which help pay for the castle upkeep.  Ideally, the peasants living below the castles could seek safety and food within the castle during times of hostilities.  But water would invariably cause collapse, as would unexpected acts of betrayal, false promises believed, or paralyzing fear from the spectre of overwhelming military odds and certain death unless one surrendered when offered somewhat favourable terms.

The climb to Quillan Castle is not difficult these days, but the narrow road does keep ascending.

The Pont Vieux (Old Bridge) is also from the 12th century.  It once had a mill on one side for grinding various types of grain.

Contre-Courante, Le Portail des Terroirs, Quillan, Region Languedoc, Dept. Aude

Even though the small village of Quillan was essentially closed for Ascension Thursday on that cold gray day in mid-May, Janice discovered a truly delightful family-run restaurant that was open.  Contre-Courante, Le Portail des Terroirs is both a store for local products and a restaurant featuring only local foods, cheeses and wines.  What's more, they are very willing to tell you all about these local products.  Throughout rural France there is a very strong movement promoting local foods, much like the so-called Hundred Mile Diet in North America, only using a much smaller radius.  As Julia Child learned while in France decades ago, fresh local foods are by far the best.

As you approach the restaurant, you immediately sense its intimacy.  Through the front door you get a glimpse of the colours in the shop.

The inside seating has perhaps five or six tables, hardly more.  Local wines are proudly displayed on the fireplace mantle and the prices are given on the blackboard above cupboard for the wine glasses and plates.

Notice that the fireplace is working, in mid May at noon.  Our table was close to it, which was great.

We selected a wine recommended by the husband/waiter and then studied its labels for further information about grape types, exact location, terroir, etc.

They also bring cool water to the tables, using former wine bottles.

The day's specialty featured escargots (snails) grown locally.  Some Irish gentlemen at a nearby table feasted only on snails, bread and wine.  The snails are carefully cleaned, taken out of the shells, gently tossed in butter, wine and garlic, then returned individually to shells.  These little fellows can transform a gloomy cold Thursday noon into something absolutely exotic.

After our first appetizer (snails, but a smaller portion than Sean's), we ordered a selection of local cheeses.  Each was described, most were goat cheeses, and a small jar of raspberry jam was available to go with the bread and cheeses.

Our main course was pork roast (done to perfection in the home kitchen) served with grilled tomatoes and potatoes tossed in butter.

 

 At one point I caught a glimpse of some of the family seated in their kitchen just a few meters from the dining room. 

 

The mens restroom was decorated with progressive (usually leftist) cartoons from newspapers, all of which made delightful reading.

Perhaps two or three hours later, well-filled, we returned to the wet streets to see more of Quillan.  When I return, this restaurant will be absolutely tops on my list.  Its food surpassed anything else we enjoyed eating in the south of France this year.

Église Notre-Dame-de-Quillan, Quillan, Region Languedoc, Dept. Aude

In the centre of Quillan, a small town of 3,591 inhabitants, stands a modest 12th-century church, l'Église Notre-Dame-de-Quillan.  We visited very briefly on Ascension Thursday, arriving long after Mass had been celebrated.  The small church was open but quite dark, though the side chapels were each illuminated with a different colour.  Most tourists only get to wander through three or four of the most majestic cathedrals in France, but the small rural churches are also fascinating, reflecting the simple honesty of local life rather than the presumptuous grandeur of the nation's most wealthy and competitive aristocrats.

As I approached the front door, I stopped to see this little book on which villagers were writing condolences to a grieving family.  The funeral was to be held in the church the next day.  This suggests that many people in Quillan know each other and that the community is quite close.

The next thing that my Mennonite eye noticed was a sort of price list--suggested "offerings" for various services offered by the church.  Presumably this is to remind parishioners that it takes money to keep any church open and operating, that some services require considerably more time than others, and that private events in particular can take up quite a bit of the officiant's limited time, for these days a lone priest is too often responsible for multiple parishes.

Although the sanctuary itself was not lit, spotlights in the side chapels provided enough light for one to enter and pray--or possibly even take photographs under challenging lighting conditions.  In the following photos, we are looking from the front toward the back of the sanctuary.

Now we are looking directly across the altar rail and the steps leading up to the altar.  Across the way we see the small side chapel with its own altar, a single line of chairs, and a confessional.

The following black and white photo shows another small chapel with a statue of the Virgin Mary.  The marble tablets flanking the statue give the names of the men of the parish who were killed during the two European wars in the 20th century.  These lists are omnipresent throughout rural France, poignant testimony to the useless destruction and impossible costs of war everywhere.  Every time I see these lists, I wonder, "What might have become of these lads, had there been no war?"

The high altar at the front of the church is back lit by a skylight above the Baroque statue of the Virgin Mary.  This dramatic use of natural lighting was practical, requiring careful construction, but then no candles or artificial lighting would be needed for centuries to come. 

Another small source of natural light was the half circle above the main entrance door at the side of the sanctuary.  I am also intrigued by light entering from underneath church doors, particularly as many feet slowly wear down thresholds over the centuries. 

Chandeliers are always beautiful, even when not illuminated.  Natural light from a distant window lets us appreciate the central chandelier in a new way.  The "IHS" stands for Jesus (J did not appear in the Latin alphabet for a long time; the vowels are traditionally omitted in this type of art).