Castle in the clouds

The old city of Carcasonne.

Carcasonne is schizophrenic.  Have you heard the phrase, “Neurotics build Castles in the Clouds.  Psychotics live in them”.  Well, Carcasonne has a castle in the clouds.  I know, because I was up there.  I don’t know what that says about my state of mind but reality has never been my strong suit.  Ask Telen – she’ll tell you.

View from the Ramparts of the old city (cool word - "Ramparts")

The reason I say that Carcasonne is schizophrenic is because it has a split personality.  There are two distinct cities.  One is the lower city  - which is like an accountant’s wet dream – it is laid out in a perfect grid.  This is the more modern of the two cities and is orderly and sedate.  The other city is the old city and it is an accountant’s nightmare.   It is a very old city that was originally fortified by the Romans and upgraded periodically as invaders came and went.  Currently it sits up on the hill like a fairy-tale castle looking down with some distain on the lower city.  I am not talking Disney fairy-tale – I am talking Brother’s Grimm.  It is solid, grey, foreboding and impregnable.  All the things you want in a castle.

Another view from the Ramparts (love that word!) of the new city

Once you get through the main portcullis the defenders of the city attack you.  These days it is considered bad form to shoot invaders with arrows or stab them with swords so the defenders are more subtle.

They take your money.

The city is one huge tourist trap with a million shops selling swords (plastic, wooden or steel), armor (plastic or metal) and crossbows (wooden with suction cups on the arrows).  All of these are exorbitantly priced and of questionable quality.

I am of two minds about this.  I am not sure I want to see swords of good quality being sold in tourist shops after seeing a couple of little boys with wooden swords hammering away at each other protected only by plastic helmets and imaginary armor.  Luckily for them and their parents the boys seemed to think the object of the exercise was to smack the swords together and yell a lot.

The majority of the shops sell these things along with various and sundry other fantasy/medieval things.  I don’t understand how all those shops can be selling the identical things yet still stay in business.  I did stop into a knife shop in the city because the knives made in this area have a reputation for being of extremely good quality.  Indeed they had many knives along with actual swords, battle-axes, morning-star maces, and daggers.  I half expected to see a couple of grown men outside the shop speaking in stilted English and slicing at each other with sabers.  It’s all fun and games until someone puts an eye out.

The bridge into the castle.  As you can see the moat is now being used as a garden.  I guess the invaders are not coming back.

I have always been fascinated with castles, knights, quests and chivalry.  Ever since I was a small boy I found the tales of King Arthur fascinating.   They were always a heady mix of history and fantasy.  I always pictured myself as a knight in shining armour on my gallant steed with my magic sword and pure heart rescuing the beautiful damsel in distress. 

Things did not turn out quite the way I imagined.  My attempts to become a knight fizzled somewhat and I became a pharmacist instead.   Not high on the gallant, charging to the rescue side of things.  I have a magic sword – or reasonable facsimile thereof – it is my Swiss Army knife.  I call it Bob. When horses see me coming with a saddle in hand they tend to startle, rear and gallop for safety.  So, my gallant steed is a bicycle.  Since riding a bicycle in full plate armor tends to be slow and noisy I have to wear Lycra.  Pure of heart?  As I said – I am a pharmacist.  As far as rescuing damsels in distress - it tends to be more the other way around these days.

Knight in shining armour?   I don't think so!

This is the first time I have ever been in a castle.  I did not realize just how cold, damp and drafty they are.   But very cool nonetheless.  Castles are made to defend oneself from attacking armies and as such they are sturdy, made of stone and high up on a hill.   Carcasonne is all of these and it is tres cool in both a temperature and a status sense.  I really liked it.  I had heard the terms portcullis, curtain wall, ramparts, drawbridge, battlements and keep but I had never seen them.  My inner medieval knight tried to awaken at the sight of them.   I had this terrible urge to whip out my trusty Swiss Army knife, Bob, and brandish it at the foe, sweep Telen up onto my bike and ride into the sunset with a trumpet salute in the background.

Telen said, “Put that stupid knife away before you poke your eye out!”

Oh well.

Damsel in distress?   Nope.

Telen writes:

The castle is indeed beautiful.  Apparently the movie “Robin Hood-prince of thieves” was filmed there.  I certainly had neither the desire to play the gallant knight like Rand or be the helpless princess locked up a tower waiting to be rescued.  My goal was to taste a famous local dish called cassoulet.

Cassoulet is a rich, slow-cooked casserole from the south of France.  It contains meat (typically pork sausages, goose and/or duck), pork skin and white haricot beans.  I was able to eat only 60% of it because it was very rich and filling.  I could imagine how wonderful this would be to a farmer, hungry after a day working in the fields.  Unfortunately my stomach protested violently afterwards.   My search for the ultimate French dishes continues! 

I miss Italy.