Sunday, 11 January 2015

Canal du Midi

After a nice little stop over in une lieu dit Garbajon, with representatives of the clown gods we roll down, down, down to the Canal du Midi. And there it was in all it’s glory! And it really is like that, like in all the pictures… just like this one…. here’s the picture. What a picture! We chose the right season, too with the golden leaves falling down and everything glistening and shining in the warm autumn sun….

This old lady here was also taking advantage of the warm autumn sun. Leaning against the wall sun bathing she went: “Psst! Attention! There be giant chickens about. They might even be on bicycles. They been rampaging through the country side for a while now causing havoc and leaving the occasional nid de poule or even an entire auberge.” And right she was. We cycled past a chicken auberge. Sadly it was closed and there was no giant chicken to be seen. We hope to see more velo auberges for all kinds of creatures on bicycles on our travels.
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Popping round the corner to stop for a little coffee we come across this collage of edifices. Ancient and modern dominantologies, dominating the skyline, the church of Jesus and the church of Power. Look who’s winning this time round….

Back on the canal in the company of lovely, funny Max who vient d’ Agen where we did our show in the market of Estillac, where we made all the babies cry, bought the famous pruneux d’Agen and enjoyed the atmosphere of locals being local, and starting a great little local market.

After a picnic by the lake we said good bye to Max and cycled on to the famous cloisters of something or other who’s name we have forgotten. We didn’t go in because it was a ticketed event and we didn’t get past the information desk. So we poked our noses through the big impressive doors, into the church instead.  Round the corner behind the altar, through a whole in the fence we saw these rather lovely wooden figures.

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Meanwhile, above the door, these chaps were looking up to god, discussing something very important… we could hear them talking about something like where to get the best cake in town and things about other deadly sins...

And on the walls these peeps where getting right on down with the deadly sin stuff, looking all a bit emacieted… hmmm, starting to feel a little bit peckish…

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So was that little walrus monster here, tucking into a virgin.

Everything began to be a bit gluttonus…. and then the modern electric glutton gargoil came hoovering round the corner and our glutton glands took over and we headed for cake….

mmmmh, we went for a double treat…
After cake we startyed coming across some giant evidence! Giant stone boots by the way side….

A car thrown into a field…. Boules de voitures !?
Was the giant catching cyclists to build his fence out of their bikes?

We hurried on down the canal to find refuge in the castle of Carcassonne.

Aaah Carcassonne! - Do you remember the story about these two fellas? - No I wasn’t listening. - It’s alright, she’ll tell you -… And she did, but we’ve forgotten it. It went something like that, the story we think.

The canal was getting a little bumpy now...

a little wilder and bendier...

and a little artier, even if the music was a bit wooden. Elvis, Bob and Georges just jammin.
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There’s a wise owl and a naked lady… there must be a book shop somewhere near…
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Behold the three wise folk who know where everything is kept and where to go next…
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“Follow the signs” they say. But what do they mean?
Of course, they mean follow that sign.
Of we went following the signs and we couldn’t go wrong. The path got slimmer, we had to pass through the contamination, along the roman bridge, along the bumpy path…

….along the track that gets narrower and narrower…..
… and takes us to our next adventure.

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