Beau Soleil Blues: Saturday, September 7th

Dictionary: A malevolent literary device for cramping the growth of a language and making it hard and inelastic. This dictionary, however, is a most useful work. -Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914), [The Devil's Dictionary, 1906]

Hi Ragin' Green Bull and Dennisovitch!

Glad to hear your chameleon genes are kicking in and your colores is returning to you normal apoplectic red! Your shots fabuloso of the aftermath of the recent thunderstorms are worthy of Life! I spit on Margaret Bourke White or Ansel Adams! What did they know about The Colour Green, my Iggy Iguana from Guayabitos Friend? 

All the best to you both. Cheers, Il Conduttore!

Pics: Kinder, gentler clouds! Friday evening; Saturday morning

Had my own first thunderstorm last night around 2:30 am. Quite an exciting cacophony of thunderclaps although lightning flashes were too far away to have me worrying about being zapped as I watched from just inside my bedroom balcony, outer shutters partially closed to keep the torrential rain from coming in and inundating upper story. I was worried that my malt collection might be carried away in a flash flood! Gives new meaning to some of the roadside signs I've seen before low dips in roads close to streams/rivers, particularly on way to Vailhan. I paraphrase but something like "Accès interdit alors inondé!"  

At any rate, I went back to sleep, listening to the water running in the gutters and from the eaves, pulling the single sheet over me as there was a noticeable drop in the temperature. Delicious smell one often gets after everything is power-washed by sideways slanting torrents, wafting into bedroom. Poifect for restful sleepage and I didn't wake until 6:50 am.

Into kitchen for my java regulare. Had a banana and last of my butter beans, zapped, for  breakfast. (Where is Capitaine Barnacle when you need an ommelletto? First had Ragin' Bull's scrumptious omelettes in Croatia, in 2007, and then again in Guayabitos, in 2011.) Then off to drive to Pésenas for the Saturday market. Was looking forward to it as loads to see in town itself and I know, both from what Dennisovitch has said and from various guide books/websites, that it is reputed to be one of best, if not The Best, market(s) in Languedoc.

Had seen the signs for Parking Gratuit on the two previous times I'd been in Pésenas so headed for the lots in question and was lucky to find the one free spot in the lot closest to the Centre Historique. Just a short walk to the square filled with booths selling everything from cheap trinkets/household goods to clothing to fruit/vegetables, meat/cheese. At the top of the street I was following there were three stands offering Dégustation de vin so I stopped and had my first taste of local product. Was quite taken with the 2009 Clos de Malibran, Cuvée Secrète de Patrice Drevet, 13%, Syrah, but didn't really wish to lug it around while doing the rounds of the market so told the chap at the kiosk I'd be back. He told me not to wait too long as he would probably be gone by 1:00 pm.

Thanking him I strolled on. Quite typical of many of the markets we'd been to in 2010, on our last trip to France, but this stretches the entire length of the dog-legged, four or five block length square. Very pleasant to meander as there was plenty of room to look at things without bumping into or falling over others. I simply love all the rainbow coloured vats and bowls and trays and platters of olives and dried fruit and nuts and endless arrays of sausages and piles of cheese rounds and tubs of oysters and mussels and wonderful, sad eyed, baleful seafood on crushed ice and dressed and cut meat and stacks of baguettes and couronnes and ficelles and pain de compagne and that don't even take into account the steaming, gigantic saucepans offering paella and couscous and Thai noodles with pork or chicken or mouth watering selections of spring rolls, (I had two Nem Thai rolls, one with pork, the other with chicken, and savoured and munched as I booth-shopped.), and the mounds of fresh peaches and figs and piles of white tipped radishes and huge courge/squash and on and on and on. 

I ended up, among other things, buying a wonderful selection of saucisson, taureau/bull and sanglier/wild boar and pork, blended or seasoned or coated with Chevre or Catalan Pepper or Espetec Catalan 130, whatever the Hell that is, (Probably a neuro-toxin favoured by The Sisterhood!), and the pièce de résistance, a generous slice of green cheese, (flavoured with basil), to prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Dear Reader, that the Moon is, in fact, composed entirely of this delicious cheese!

Back to the to the vegetable stands to buy gigantic green oniones and zucchini and carrots and red peppers and radishes and then to reward myself for all my rides, more Dégustation! 

Started at the end of the three booths and worked my way towards where my car was parked so I'd have a few less steps to stumble! Began here with Domaine Terres en Couleurs 2012 Rousanne,14%, €8/$10.98). Not quite as bold as I thought/hoped it might be but will be curious to try it again to see if I missed something. Followed with their 2012 Vermentino-Roussane blend, 14%, €11/$15.10. Preferred the latter as its floral nuances and perfume were simply wonderful, wonderfully flavourful. The red, a 2010 blend of Syrah and Grenache, 14%, (€8/$10.98, was a mouthful of fruit so I was delighted to buy all three.Very friendly and agreeable owner/winemaker so I might pop in to say hello and taste again as his domaine is just outside Nizas and on one of my regular bike routes. 

Next booth, Domaine Bois en Rose where I tried both the 2011 and 2010 Syrah, Grenache, Mourvedre blend, 13.5%, €6.50/$8.92. Much preferred the older vintage as it was full and rounded with just the right amount of tannic bite. If I ever get up the courage to try to ride to Faugères, this is the AOC for this domaine, I will drop in. The 2013 Tour went through Faugères on Stage 7, en route to Albi, so there are some monster hills waiting to crush the spirit and the legs and the lungs out of any "recreational" riders foolhardy enough to attempt these ascents. Last booth, one I'd stopped at initially, and this time I tried their 2012 Rosé, 13%, €7/$9.60, made from Syrah. Liked it muchly as it was dry and crisp. Knew I wanted another hit of the Cuvée Secrète as it had such a modulated peppery finish. 

Most expensive bottle, €15/$20.59, but when I wen to pay chap only charged me €20 for both bottles. Thanking him, I staggered off to the parking lot down the street, balancing my overflowing bags and praying I wouldn't drop any of my precious hootch! Stash stowed I walked the two or three blocks down the way to Carrefour  to pick up a few more groceries, things I'd missed last time. This done I made my way back to the car and then headed for home. By the time I'd put everything away it was close to 2:30 pm and sky looked like rain might hold off so I thought I'd try for a ride. 

At 2:45 pm I girded my loins and headed towards Fontès, just to give my legs a bit of a warm-up. Turned around just short of 1 km and made my way through Neffiès to attempt my first attempt of "Mont Neffiès" from the village side. 

As I have mentioned, I had the impression that this assault would be far more arduous, (ie. steeper), than approaching from Cabrières. In fact, I was more than pleasntly surprised to find that this was not really the case. While there were a few more, shorter switchbacks, in general the grade was much the same as on the other face and I was soon at the top, drinking in the wonderful views offered as I "raced" along the road which snakes across the top of the hill.

Must say that descending towards Cabrières is a truly fantastic ride. Since there are fewer switchbacks the straightaways are not as steep and much longer. This allows one to glide, without worrying about braking, and the sensation of almost flying is exhilarating beyond belief. 

The effort of the reasonably strenuous climb is washed away in the euphoria of  the adrenalin rush as one hurtles down the smooth surfaced road and into Cabrières itself, a pretty village. Out the other side and following the sign towards Clermont-l'Hérault, my goal for the day, I was delighted to see that the way ahead seemed fairly level, the result from the road following, slightly above but parallel to the river which runs through the valley here.

Basically, on the flat, with some slight rises, and then downhill all the way into and through Clermont-l'Hérault, a fairly large town, as far as I could tell from sailing down the main street, and then out the other side to negotiate another reasonable, (more than reasonable at times, Dear Reader, I must admit), climb towards Nebian and then a bit of a respite as I swooshed down into Lieuran-Cabrières and I was back in known territory! Slight downhill grade all the way to Péret. I by-passed the first road into the village, opting to ride to the more direct approach, not that far along.

Once in Péret I continued on to Cabrières, (knowing I had a one last significant climb ahead), completing the first loop of the ride once there. Very pleased with route I had charted, I continued on to the intersection at the base of Mont Neffiès and debated whether to return that way. However, had never skirted the hill before and really wanted to approach 

Fontès this way so decided I'd save an "up-and-over, squared" for another time. Again, fairly easy going here so I was feeling rather rather pleased with myself even if a few raindrops spattered my high-fashion gear! Sky didn't look too, too dark and threatening so I remained optimistic.

Overly so as rain started in earnest just  as I was entering Fontès. Once I was under the shelter of the ubiquitous plane trees I thought I was safe, for the moment, particularly since the sky ahead seemed to be brightening up. And, by the time I was out of Fontès, making for Nizas, the rain had stopped, other than for a few intermittent drops. Was feeling rather cocky as I thought I'd make it home, but a tad damp, when there was an almost deafening clap of thunder, (I didn't see the lightening flash.), and the skies spit, expectorated megalitres on my presumption! The rain was falling so hard that the drops were literally bouncing off the tarmac and I was soaked within a few seconds. Adding insult to injury, passing cars sprayed me with jets of water as they tore past me, their tires and the puddles which covered the roadway conspiring to drench me to the bone!

Once I'd accepted that I was not escaping the deluge it was almost fun, in a perverse way, to be squelching along. That is until I started to notice that the lightening forks seemed to be getting closer and closer. I wasn't sure if I was a potential lightening rod, especially when I was riding between vineyards and there weren' t even any trees to offer their trunks, or did my tires offer enough insulation, in spite of the fact that my gear had more water in it than my camel pack! 

Nothing I could do anyway, I suppose, other than cower under some Cinsaut vines but that would mean I'd have to touch the Drenched Ground, Dear Reader, and that thought was  worse than being struck by lightening, so I soldiered on, trying not to wince every time Thor wielded his hammer. 

Bit of respite by the time I was in Nizas but once through the village I met with more torrential rain as I crossed between more vineyards, en route to Caux. Only thing that kept me from despair was the fact that iron power poles paralleled the road, at this point, and I theorized that they provided much more attractive strike potential than a stubborn, stupid mortal. 

Climbing out of this last small valley I almost felt like a spawning salmon so thick was the water rushing downhill, on this section, completely covering the road at certain spots. Into Caux itself and I could hardly keep for laughing out loud as the street gutters were raging torrents, downspouts fountaining geysers that the swollen drains could not accept, the open grates spilling the gushing water over the street to the depth of two or three inches at least.
 

Slight climb, within Caux itself, to reach exit to Neffiès and here I could have wished for a stick, a paper boat and a pair of Wellies and I would have been a small boy, once again, sailing my Brigantine on all the Seven Seas of the small lake which had formed just down from the intersection I was making for. 

Rain refused to let up as I made my way for Neffiès and such was the mist that now enveloped the landscape I couldn't see the village even though I knew roughly where it was. Having ridden this route before I knew it was up against the hills, off to my right. On a sunny or otherwise clear day, one can see much of the village, from quite a distance, and certainly the Gothic Church Tower but on this occasion even l'Église Gothique Tour had vanished!

 By the time I had reached the outskirts, I decided I'd better check out le centre de la ville just to make sure the church was still there. I did just that, not because I needed any dipsy-doodling to push my total past 55 km, Dear Reader, but to thank Jesu, Joy of Man's Cycling. Back home I literally used the "stream" flowing beneath the raised doorstep to rinse my tires. Free bike wash and was tempted to strip off, right there and then, and do my riding togs, but by this time I was starting to feel the chill of my sodden top against my back and arms so I dripped gallons on the hallway floor instead of peeling off outside. Still, a great ride, a great experience. I now feel truly baptized!

Ride stats: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/371969428#.UitRyS5Vp00.email

Peeled off in the downstairs bathroom and put my "sponges" right into the washing machine. Rinsed out my clip-ons and put them, and my gloves, in front of a fan to dry. Upstairs to spread out the contents of my money clip on the bar counter and then had a hot shower, although I was not as chilled as I thought I'd be. In spite of the fact that the rain was torrential for much of the time, the temperature was really quite pleasant. 

Once changed I set about preparing my dinner. Diced a few cloves of garlic, chopped some oniones and once they were sizzling added some of the kartofell I'd boiled the day before. Once everything was nicely browned, 

chopped off a chunk of the largest sausage I'd purchased at the market and added pieces to the mix. While all this was on the go I put together my staple green salad. Everything ready, I turned up BBC 2, Last Night of the Proms, live from Hyde Park and the Royal Albert Hall, and had a leisurely meal while I finished Gods and Beasts.

Back to my workstation, after washing up, and swotted away until just after midnight. Then, brushed and flossed, went downstairs to turn off fan. Pleased with drying process I tumbled into bed and re-read first chapter of Sue Grafton's M is for Malice. I'd started it in Vancouver but put it on hold until now. Started to read where my bookmark indicated I'd left off but couldn't remember plot to that point so decided I'd start again. Only a few chapters to re-read so not a big deal to catchup. Only made it through part of Chapter One before my heavy eyelids made continuing impossible. Switched off the light and fell asleep seeing myself swimming through Caux! To be continued...