We are living above the Cafe du Fleuve, a site that provides for endless hours of entertainment, including observation of human behaviour, the comings and goings of tourists, and the eating and drinking habits of locals – French and English-speaking.
We have been enjoying fresh fruit and veges, farm cheese and eggs from the market but we can also hunt and gather our own food from the local environment. Here is a hat-full of wild cherries, from neighbouring Ginoles. Yum. Actually, this lot were picked by our neighbour and kindly passed on to us, but the boys enjoyed scaling the trees to gather some of their own on a walk at the weekend. That’s the life.
On Saturdays in Quillan the market is a larger affair, and sets up in the larger space between the station and the outdoor pool gym complex. The market includes all the usual fresh produce, with additional artisan stalls, and a rambling vide grenier (garage sale-style flea market).
Can you guess why Quillan reminds me of Gore? Continue reading Where are we: Gore or Quillan?
It’s the end of our second week in Quillan and the boys have survived a whole week of the final term of school at the Ecole Paulin Nicoleau.
The first week is always the hardest, and they have done an amazing job at navigating the challenges thrown at them. Even if we left now, they’d have done themselves proud.
On Wednesdays, there is a regular morning market in Quillan, and they have the decency to hold it in the Place de la Republique, right outside our windows.
This afternoon I put on my running shoes and explored a few kilometres east along the Aude river. Here are the photos I took, plus a few notes. Continue reading A jog beside the Aude river
Moving your family halfway round the world is a daunting undertaking, so friendliness goes a long way. I’ve always found people very welcoming when I’ve travelled – especially when you bring a positive attitude, a smile, and make an effort to speak some of the local language. But I have been really amazed by the universal friendliness of those we have met in Quillan. I haven’t struck a bad egg yet. Continue reading The kindness of strangers
Quillan Castle (ruined, and with an ugly water reservoir building beautifully placed in the middle of the interior) is a short walk across the square from our apartment, over the Pont Vieux, and up the Rampe du Chateau. From the top you get a great view of Quillan and the surrounding hills. It’s from the castle that the view of Quillan in our blog cover photo, is taken.
