Limoux: 'notre maison loin de la maison'

Despite all the fun and excitement of the opportunities to travel around France and wider Europe, we are actually living in a very small yet proud town called Limoux. Tucked away in the south, this little town of 10,000 people is 'our home away from home'...

The view of the Aude river to the west of the town

The town of Limoux is in the Aude department, in the Languedoc-Roussillon region in the south of France. The river Aude runs through the town, which was founded in the 8th century. There isn't a great tourist population here, as the attractions in the town itself are quite limited. Limoux is on a main road though, and is only a 20 minute drive from Carcassonne, and about an hour and a half north of the Pyrenees.

The town of Limoux is known in France for two things: Blanquette and Carnaval.

Blanquette de Limoux is a type of sparkling white wine made only in this area. The story is that the method of making sparkling white wine was actually invented in the Abbey of Saint Hilaire, which is just outside of Limoux, pre-dating the drink that made the region of Champagne famous. Blanquette is served everywhere in Limoux, and is the drink of choice prior to and after a meal, and at any other time of day for that matter. Limouxins are very proud of this drink, which was, fittingly, the first thing we were offered when we arrived in the town.

Carnaval de Limoux is something that we are yet to experience, but have been told (and perhaps warned) about. Carnaval is a three-month festival held from January to March every year, whereby locals, and anyone that wants to join in, dress up with masks that roughly resemble clowns, parade through the Town Square with local bands, and basically work their way through the bars around the Square. This festival occurs three times a day on every Saturday and Sunday throughout the Carnaval period. We aren't quite sure what to expect, but no doubt I will be writing about it in January!

This old Church is hidden
in streets full of apartments

While the town is known to party, it is actually a really pretty little town, where the people are so happy and life seems easy. We have walked pretty much around the entire town; we have found a Church hidden among residential buildings, and another old Church now used as a piano museum. The river is quite pretty; we have spent afternoons just sitting on the water's edge or on the bridge looking at the stunning landscape. The town is surrounded by mountains on one side and vineyards on the other. They say that people only come to Limoux to get to somewhere else, which I guess makes it the perfect place for us to live and explore the area!

Our little slice of French heaven

The house that we live in is more like a 'granny flat' on the property of a bigger house. Most average people in Limoux live in the apartment buildings in and around the town square, with the larger houses being more on the outskirts of the town. But for some reason there is a big house with a large garden one street back from the apartment buildings, about 200m walk from the middle of town, and on one side of their garden is a two-story building, which we are fortunate enough to live in. It seems to be quite new, and is nice and cosy.

Inside is very basic, but somehow it is just what you would imagine a little French house to be like. One wall is completely exposed rock and cement, while the other walls are very thick and solid as well. Downstairs consists of a living area with a heater at one end, and a small kitchenette at the other end, with a sink, stove top, microwave and a small bar fridge.

A set of open wooden stairs lead upstairs, which is all open-plan and has our bed, shower and toilet. The floor is wooden, and a heater keeps the whole area warm. We have our own washing machine and dryer in a little shed connected to the house, which makes us very self-sufficient here.

We are really enjoying living in this small town. We feel as though we are experiencing first-hand the true way of life of France, not just the tourist version. The people here have embraced us both as they are very supportive of the town's football team; they are as equally happy to have us here as we are to be here.

The old bridge crossing the Aude was built in the 11th century,
while the Church on the left, St Martin's, was built in 1263.

Cite de Carcassonne

You know those moments when you are stopped in your tracks, completely awestruck and just speechless? They don't seem to happen very often these days, but on our first adventure in France, Marty and I had one of those moments...

We had only been in the country for five days when I decided that it was time to get out and explore. Marty had played his first game of footy for the Grizzlies on the Sunday (in 4 degree weather) and had commiserated the loss with the team over night. But I wasn't going to let that spoil a beautiful day in the south of France.

The town of Carcassonne is about a 20 minute drive east from Limoux, and we had briefly been through the town's centre when we went to arrange Marty's visa on our second day here. We had heard about how impressive the castle in Carcassonne was; so big and magical, and worth a visit. So, our first tourist adventure would be to the Cite de Carcassonne.

I should point out that Carcassonne is divided into the old medieval Cite de Carcassonne, and the lower city, built outside the fortified walls and across the river, with a population of around 50,000. We were unaware of the difference when we set out on this adventure.

We drove to the town in the morning, and from the moment we parked the car we had our eyes open for the castle. We stood outside some walls that seemed to run between housing buildings and the car park and main road. At the end of the carpark we saw a big rock wall structure, and we got excited. As we approached, we both questioned what this was, as it didn't look very big. Yet, just in case it was the castle, we continued around the wall to find out.

As we rounded a corner that seemed to bring us into what must have been part of a walled city, we saw stairs that entered this great wall. We went in, walked around, and quickly realised this was no castle. It was instead a prayer garden, with statues telling the story of Christ's crucifixion. It was old, but in considerably good shape, and a nice, quiet place; but not the castle we were looking for.

The Church that we came
across in our search.

We left the garden and started to wander down a street, looking for the next sign of a castle. We walked through streets with closed shops, and through the town's square, but there wasn't a lot of action (I had read that some shops close their doors on Mondays as their day off, and we have quickly learnt that nothing happens in France on a Monday!).

We saw another impressive rock structure; one that looked like a tower among housing buildings. When we saw it we thought it looked much more like what we would have expected. As we approached though, Marty was again questioning what it was, as it didn't have the elements that castles of the day would have had. As we stood in front of this great big building, we came to the conclusion that it was a Church. It too was closed, but very impressive to stand in front of.

So, our search continued. We weren't disillusioned though, as we were walking the small, empty streets of the old town of Carcassonne, taking in the sites of the buildings all crowded in. We wandered along in one direction, assuming that we had covered one side of the town, so it had to be on the other. We noticed some French tourists who had a map, and just as we were about to get out our translation book and attempt to talk to them, they asked someone passing by about the 'Chateau', and the local pointed in the direction we were headed. We were on the right track.

As we wandered along a street out into an opening, we looked up and there across the river was the grand Cite de Carcassonne. This was our moment of complete awe; a moment that words cannot describe, but the feeling will be with us forever. There was no mistake about it; that was the castle we had come to see. 

Cite de Carcassonne

We stopped for a few minutes, just trying to comprehend what we were seeing; castles like that only exist in movies or photos in our world, but here is one right before us. Research told us that there is 2,500 years of history around this castle; fortified with double walls all the way around, and surrounded by 52 towers, this was an impressive structure. 

As we walked up toward it, I asked my personal battle historian (Marty) questions about the walls, and why this was the way it was, and why that was built like that. I learnt about the loop-holes in the walls and towers that were designed for archers, and that the towers were built round so that attackers had no corners to hide behind. I was so excited and impressed to see these things firsthand and try to comprehend how advanced the building of the structure was for so long ago.

Marty was equally impressed with what he was seeing. This is one of the most remarkably maintained medieval fortified cities in the world, and we were walking through it. We wandered through the external walls, across a bridge and through the internal city walls. As far as we could see either way there were walls and towers. 

The narrow streets were filled with shops
and tourists

We followed the crowds of people along the cobblestone roads up the slight hill into the city. Old buildings lined the narrow cobblestone paths, and what would have once been houses were now shops with every possible souvenir you could imagine; while it was obviously catering to the tourist market now, it certainly brought the streets to life with action, colour and noise.

There was so much to see; the pubs, cafes, boulangeries, an inviting shop that sold chocolate by the slab! There were people standing at the doors to their shops inviting us inside and offering samples. 

The entrance to the Keep

We continued along the roads, taking in the sights and sounds and just appreciating where we were. We came to another impressive wall that protected the keep on the inside. Going through the gates we were met with a ticket line to visit the keep, which promised to be intact, albeit renovated and restored for tourism purposes. We decided not to visit the inside of the keep this time, instead we stood along the top of the dry moat marveling at bridge over the moat and the tall towers the stood either side of the entrance.

There was still more to see as we left the inner circle walls of the keep. We came across the city's Church, which was again impressive for its size and architecture. 

It really was a stunning building, with so much character and standing so tall among the surrounding buildings.

The Church inside the
Cite de Carcassonne

As we wandered back through the town, I couldn't help but think of what life must have been like back in the day when this was a thriving and secure city. It was an enormous construction perched atop a hill next to the river Aude; a seemingly perfect location. It has seen so many wars and battles, and was spared destruction to become a UNESCO World Heritage Site. At night the lights that surround the city cast the most amazing perspective on the walls and towers and really seem to bring the history to life.

For our first tourist adventure in France, we were beyond impressed and the bar had been set high. Fortunately for us, the Cite de Carcassonne is just one of the many historical sites to visit in the south of France, and we have eight more months to explore.

Our photos don't do justice to how impressive the Cite de Carcassonne is. Here are some images that will give you an idea of the size of the structure. And for those interested, the Cite de Carcassonne was featured in the movie Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves (the Kevin Costner version), as the exterior to Nottingham Castle.

Bonjour Limoux!

We arrived at the international airport in Toulouse around 10.30am on Wednesday 24 October. We had briefly discussed on the flight from London whether or not the person sent to collect us would be holding a sign. How else would they know who we were? Although looking around the airport I think it would have been quite obvious who the out-of-towners were.

Excitement washed away any concern that we felt when we saw an older, stocky man with grey hair and moustache - somewhat resembling Ian 'Huey' Hewitson - holding a hand-written sign that read: 'Mr and Mrs Hatfield'. He must have been equally as happy to see us, as we were the last passengers to pass through security.

This man, whose name I later found out was Michele, was very quick to state that he doesn't speak English, yet advised that it would be an hour and a quarter drive to Limoux, and we had to stop at the rugby league office first to sign some papers. As it turned out, he could speak quite good English, and turned into our translator later in the day when we met with people who really couldn't speak English.

We had been on French soil for about 10 minutes when we experienced our first moment of confusion. Michele had indicated to Marty that he get into the front right seat of the car, only for Marty to respond with concern, 'what, you want me to drive?'. Marty and Michele went back and forth in their own languages, unable to make each other understand, until Marty decided this didn't sound right and went over to the car to check it out. Surely enough, the car was left-hand drive, and Marty had been invited to take the front passenger seat. We couldn't help but laugh and put our ignorance down to exhaustion. But we did wonder; if this was a cause for confusion, what were we really in for? If only we knew...

Anyone who has ever driven with me knows how much of a cautious driver I am. I also often express concern at Marty's driving, although it isn't that bad. But I sure wish Marty was driving on the trip from Toulouse to Limoux! The speed limit was 130km/h on the motorway, but sitting in the back I had a clear view of the speedometer, which reached 170km/h at one point. Although it wasn't just the speed which had me holding on for dear life; it was the weaving in and out of the overtaking lane, and Michele answering his phone multiple times to carry on in French. While the speed certainly ensured that we made it to Limoux in great time, we were relieved to make it at all!

As we followed the road down from one of the lush, green hills in the area, we could see a collection of terracotta rooves, and Michele welcomed us to Limoux. It was beautiful and I was instantly in love with the place. We could tell straight away that it was small, as Toulouse had been big, with modern and industrial buildings; there was nothing like that to be seen here.

We drove through the outskirts of the town and Michele pointed out the Stade de Rugby: the Limoux Grizzlies' home ground. I was impressed with the stadium considering the size of the town; a big, old grandstand stood along one side of the field, which was the greenest colour of any sports field I have ever seen. I was excited about watching Marty play at this field.

Le Matador

Our first stop in Limoux was a small hole-in-the-wall bar called Le Matador, which was appropriately decked out in Spanish bull riding paraphernalia. We met the managers of the Limoux Rugby Treize football club, all five of them! Turns out that the club is run by the prominent businessmen in town, some of whom speak English, but most don't.

The managers were all very happy to see Marty, or as they were calling him, 'Martin John', and were impressed by his height. As they all stood around the bar drinking their petite glasses of sparkling white wine, they asked us if we would like a drink.

Marty's first response, perhaps instinct after so many years of playing footy, was to ask Michele if he had training that night, and after being given the all-clear, he asked for a beer. The French men broke out in laughter and gave us both our own small glass of what they were having, boasting that it was the best in the world - called Blanquette - made right here in Limoux. While I normally wouldn't choose to consume alcohol in the middle of a regular Wednesday, this was definitely worth drinking, and we soon had our petite glasses filled up.

It was around the end of our second glass of Blanquette that Marty and I looked at each other and said 'this is going to be great!' We instantly felt their hospitality and like the chances we had taken to get there might just pay off. Of course, we had this little conversation to ourselves, knowing that no one would understand us anyway.

After our second glass of Blanquette, and many failed attempts to communicate, we were invited to sit down at a table set for six to join some of the managers for lunch. This was our first meal in France, and despite what we had been told about bread and wine and great food, none of that could have prepared us for what we were about to experience.

As I had declined another glass of Blanquette, my wine glass was filled with red wine to have with lunch. I didn't want to be rude at our first meeting, so at a standard Wednesday lunch, I enjoyed a glass of wine with my meal...

We were each served a plate of salade verte (green salad) with a drizzle of olive oil and a savoury pastry. While this might not be very appetising in Australia - a plate of salad leaves with no other salad - the flavour of the oil made it so delicious, I could have had more. And the pastry was fantastic; our first French pastry.  

As we sat back, having finished our salad and pastry and sipping on our wine, we were served our second course. We were told we would be having steak and potatoes for lunch, but were served steak and chips! As it turns out, this is a standard meal on most menus, so when in doubt, Marty can always order his favourite.

As the two Aussies sat with steak and chips in front of us, our French dining partners were served an interesting meal of plain pasta and some sort of round meat balls on the side. When we questioned, out of curiosity, what they were, we were both instantly given some to try. When cut open they appeared to be a mixture of meat products that had been rolled up in skin and cooked, perhaps deep fried. They tasted very salty, and from what we could understand, they were made of pork; which bits of pork we may never know!

Just as we felt full and satisfied with our lunch, the third course was placed in front of us; a slice of a rich mousse cake. The looks on our faces must have conveyed our surprise at a third course for a mid-week pub lunch, as the waitress and bar owner laughed along with us. Needless to say, we ate every last bit of it, and enjoyed it thoroughly.

During lunch we were introduced to two other Australian players that had been in Limoux for five seasons, Sam and Phil. These boys could speak French, communicating with our hosts and advising us that our apartment wasn't ready yet so we would be staying in a hotel  for the night, and that Sam would be back to pick us up later and show us around. We could never have anticipated how lucky we were to have a couple of fellow foreigners to help us out, communicate for us, and give us some tips on life in Limoux.

The fountain in the Town Square

We went into the town square with Sam, and met up with Phil. When I saw the fountain for the first time, I instantly recognised the town square from photos of Limoux that I had Googled. It was a beautiful warm and sunny day; there were people walking around everywhere, and the cafes were sprawled out into the square with people enjoying cold glasses of beer and Blanquette instead of coffee. Sam offered Marty a demi peche - peach-flavoured beer - which is a popular drink, and a nice fruity alternative to natural beer.

After two rounds of demi peche and Blanquette (well, I am in France now), we accompanied Sam to a few local stores to start to feel our way around, just observing him as he chatted away to the store people in French. We spent the afternoon this way, just chilling out at the Commerce Cafe and taking in what Phil said would be one of the last few days of warm weather. As it turned out, he was right.

At 5pm we checked into our hotel, which is run by a strong supporter of the Grizzlies. The hotel consisted of five rooms above a bar and cafe on a corner of the town square. Our room was on the second floor, up two old spiral staircases, and was small, but warm. We were just happy to have a shower and beds to sleep in! We opened the small window at the end of the room to see the stone walls of the town's gothic-style cathedral just metres away, and above that were the gargoyles that protruded from the top of the walls. So much history was right there - I couldn't wait to get out and explore it.

But not that night; by 5.30pm I was fast asleep. I didn't realise how tired I was until the next day, when I woke at around 7.30am. Turns out Marty had also turned in early, around 6.30pm. With a good night's sleep under our belt, we began our day with a breakfast provided by the hotel; croissant and baguette with jam, no butter. Again, it was delicious. There was something about eating the pastries here; I don't know yet if it actually tastes better, or if it is just because we are in France! I will keep investigating and report on this later...

Thursday consisted of a lot of important men talking French and organising our lives. Marty signed contracts, and we met more of the managers of the club, including the co-Presidents. One of the co-Presidents took us to the nearby town of Carcassonne to organise Marty's visa. What a relief this moment was! For all the stress we had been through trying to get the visa, it took about ten minutes in Carcassonne to put the stamp in Marty's passport. We were told that they made an exception for Marty's situation, and he could play for the Limoux Grizzlies on Sunday.

Limoux, on the river Aude

Our first 24 hours in France were such a whirlwind. Even as I write this to recount our experience, I can hardly believe that it all happened. So much is happening every day as we settle into our lives here, with so much to learn about the country we call home for now and the people that have embraced us here. We are excited by the opportunity to experience it all!








This article was written shortly after we arrived in France, to recount our first 24 hours in the country.

Just Married, Will Travel

Its true what they say about your wedding day - it goes so fast. We had been given the advice to enjoy every moment of the day countless times, but somehow that didn't prepare us for how quickly the day would come and go.

Getting dressed up to look as beautiful as a Bride and Groom should on their wedding day; those first glimpses of each other before we swap vows committing our love; the chaos of family group photos; catching up and sharing stories and laughter with family and friends.

Our married life began with the precious few hours that we spent with all of our family and dearest friends as we celebrated becoming husband and wife after nine years together. 

Before we knew it, the night was coming to an end and we were saying goodbye to our loved ones, knowing it will be months before we see them again.

Our wedding day was the official start of the adventure that would become our married life. Two days later we boarded a flight with our lives packed into the maximum weight of 23kgs, headed for the south of France. Around 30 hours later we arrived at the town which we would settle in for the next eight months - Limoux.

This blog is the story of our adventures in and around France; a record of our experiences and the memories we are creating. We hope you enjoy reading our stories as much as we will enjoy experiencing them!