
Southern France
by Tom Koppel
The captain and deckhand swiftly dismantle the roof and windows of our boat’s raised wheelhouse as an ancient stone bridge comes into view. We crouch and duck our heads; the vessel just barely fits underneath. Beyond, the boat slips serenely along on a ribbon of green under a shady canopy of plane trees. At the occasional break in the foliage, we spot a tall church spire, sprawling vineyards and the distant snowy peaks of the Pyrenees. Our captain will not need to replace the wheelhouse for days to come. It is May, and the weather remains blissfully warm and dry. Welcome to the Canal du Midi, which crosses Languedoc in the sunny South of France.
My wife Annie and I are among only four guests traveling on a lovely hotel barge, the Caroline, as it wends its way slowly westward for six days along one of the world’s most remarkable canals.
We arrive in the town of Beziers on the 330th anniversary of the canal’s official opening. Gala concerts, sound and light shows, and fireworks mark the event. With narrow cobblestone streets, a beautiful hillside park, and inviting little outdoor restaurants, Beziers is the birthplace of Pierre-Paul Riquet, the genius who conceived and spearheaded the 150-mile long canal project, beginning in the 1660s. The goal was to link the Atlantic with the Mediterranean, thereby avoiding the dangerous journey around Spain and past the fierce Barbary pirates. Its design is unlike most other canals, in France and elsewhere, which are excavated trenches that generally follow natural river valleys and draw their water supply from those rivers. The Canal du Midi follows the contours of hillsides and crosses right over natural features like rivers and streams on the raised archways of elegant stone aqueducts. Its source of water is a large mountain reservoir. Near Beziers, the canal leaps up a steep stone “staircase” of nine consecutive locks and later tunnels through a low mountain. A 17th century engineering marvel.
Captain Uli Weber picks us up at our hotel, along with our Australian companions Jan Kenchington and Janette Frost, and drives us west out of Beziers to join Caroline, which we have booked through FranceCruises.com. Built in the 1920s as a classic Dutch sailing barge, the boat is brightly painted with graceful hull lines, upswept both fore and aft, and a broad, spacious main deck. We are greeted by Uli’s wife Ute, who takes us below and shows us to our well-appointed cabins.
We had taken a barge cruise in France once before, but Caroline’s ambiance is very different. Our previous boat, like so many on French canals, was larger and operated by a foreign-owned company. It was ultra-deluxe, expensive and a bit formal. However attentive and friendly, the staff of five were employees. They wore uniforms and went home at night. The cruise itinerary was arranged in great detail, with all side trips scheduled and both lunch and dinner menus for the week printed in three languages. We enjoyed it, of course, and perhaps that’s the only way to organize boats that carry eight, ten, maybe twelve or more passengers. In fact, some may prefer to travel and socialize with a somewhat larger group.
Caroline, however, is a much smaller and more intimate boat. Uli and Ute are the owners. They live aboard year-round and do everything themselves, which allows them to charge considerably less. He pilots the barge, is waiter at mealtimes, and serves as driver and highly knowledgeable guide during side trips in their mini-van. She is the five-star chef, with 250 cookbooks in her collection, as well as chambermaid and deckhand while docking or going through locks. From the first moments, we feel ourselves to be guests in a lovingly decorated home. It is an informal space that is planted with on-deck flower beds and studded with cushioned deck chairs, zany wooden sculptures, even a tiny pond full of fishes and water lilies. Although there is a cozy salon below, with a dining table, sofas and a wood-burning fireplace, we are favoured by good weather and take most meals up on deck.
And those meals are memorable. The first dinner opens with a cleared tomato soup, features breast of duck in a raspberry sauce, accompanied by ratatouille and champagne rice, and finishes with dessert and a wonderful assortment of cheeses. Subsequent dinners feature coq au vin, bouillabaisse, salmon mousse with scallops and black caviar served on a puff pastry, and leg of lamb dressed with garlic and Roquefort cheese. There are marvellous desserts like homemade strawberry ice cream on meringue and a superb creme brulee. Accompanying both lunch and dinner are excellent Languedoc wines, and always the cheeses for which France is so renowned. There are also fine touches, such as Ute’s homemade preserves at breakfast and an ever-changing and quirky collection of salt and pepper shakers. Ute even picks wild herbs right along the canal.
For guests who prefer to sample the many interesting canal-side eateries, the Caroline cruises offer a lower priced half-board option. Guests take breakfast and a large lunch on board but eat most dinners in nearby restaurants at their own expense. We do this one night and enjoy an excellent dinner with wine at a classic auberge within easy staggering distance of the moored barge. Another variation is to have lunch in a market restaurant during a side trip, or to select and bring back the fixings for a picnic lunch or a barbecue on board the boat. Uli and Ute are flexible and open to all suggestions. One side trip takes us to the morning market in a nearby town, where Uli invites us to select anything we want him to purchase for our lunch. There are at least 25 kinds of olives, prepared in different ways, and an amazing assortment of cheeses and dry salamis, with each vendor offering taste tests. I am eager to try the Mediterranean oysters, and Uli knows just who has the best shellfish. Back on board, Ute serves me half of them raw, and they are the freshest and most succulent I have ever eaten. The rest she grills lightly with Parmesan cheese and parsley for the others to taste. They are sublime.
Most side trips, however, are focused on more than food. Languedoc is rich in historical sites. In Narbonne, we view a small excavated section of the Via Domitia, the ancient road that linked Rome with Spain. Hannibal probably passed this way with his elephants to attack Rome in 218 B.C. We tour the fortified hilltop village of Minerve. A little museum with dioramas tells the grim tale of how the redoubt was besieged and captured in 1210 during a papal crusade against the region’s heretical Cathar Christians. Nearly everyone, including women and children, was slaughtered in the fighting or burned at the stake afterwards. Uli drives us to a hilltop to view a huge, strangely symmetrical depression in the land that stands out even from Earth orbit. It marks where a lake was drained around 1200 to eradicate mosquitoes. Local monks did this by digging a precise pie-shaped network of ditches that converge at the centre of an enormous circle, now planted in orchards and grape vines.
Nearly every day, Annie and I venture off a bit on our own, either on foot or riding the bikes carried on board, to explore the nearby villages. It is fun to walk ahead along the towpaths, where animals used to pull the barges, and wait for Caroline to catch up at the next lock. At one, there is time for a quick espresso, served by the lock-keeper’s wife, while Uli steers the boat in and Ute handles the ropes. At another, the lock-keeper himself is a noted artist, whose off-beat works (mainly of welded scrap metal or carved wood) are on open-air display, and some are for sale.
All too soon, it is time for a farewell dinner and sad goodbyes the next morning. Uli drops us off in the medieval fortress city of Carcassonne, where we spend an extra day on our own, enveloped in the stunning architecture. And we cannot come this far south without spending a few days on the Mediterranean itself. We have heard that Cassis, just east of Marseilles, is the region’s most charming little port and beach town. It proves to be the most dramatic as well, nestled between steep mountains with precipitous cliffs that attract rock climbers. We take an exciting boat excursion into the nearby network of calanques, which are short fjords lined by sheer rock walls soaring as high as 450 metres. We watch the men play boules in a park fringed with cafes. And we round out our visit to France by swimming in the Med from a crescent beach lined with palm trees. Our final evening, a rainbow appears in the sky.
If You Go:
France Cruises offers a wide selection of barge and other boat trips on canals and rivers in France.
– www.FranceCruises.com
British Airways has convenient connections to major French cities via London.
– www.BA.com
In Beziers, the friendly three-star Hotel Imperator is centrally located on the main boulevard.
– www.hotel-imperator.fr
In Carcassonne, the four-star Hotel Donjon offers quiet luxury right in the old citadel.
– www.hotel-donjon.fr
In Cassis, the two-star hotel Cassitel is close to the beach, restaurants and lively port action.
– www.hotels-capcanaille.com/cassi.html
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Winery Visit with Food and Wine in Carcassonne
About the author:
Tom Koppel is a veteran Canadian author, journalist and travel writer who has contributed travel features to numerous newspapers and magazines for over 25 years, including the LA Times, Chicago Tribune, Dallas Morning News, Columbus Dispatch, Georgia Straight, Globe & Mail, National Post, Islands Magazine, Sydney Morning Herald and Canadian World Traveller magazine. He recently completed his fifth book of popular nonfiction, about the South Pacific islands.
All photographs are by Annie Palovcik.

Roman Alvarez Gonzalez is a teacher by profession. We met him during a boat ride along Rio Aviles. Currently he is serving as the Councilor for Culture and Sports in Aviles. Roman’s history 101 lesson includes among other things that Aviles sits on the most northerly tip of Spain and is the third largest city in the Principality of Asturias with 80,000 residents. The natural estuary made it a perfect seaport in the Middle Ages and a key to the salt trade with France, when salt was worth more then gold. Sabugo now a district of Aviles began as a fishing port on the Rio Aviles. In part because of over fishing the fishing industry is no longer a major player in the economy. For a time in the mid 20th century shipbuilding and a steel industry also prospered on the waterfront.
El Café de Joey is in old town Aviles. Joey is Asturian/American and a bit of a history nut. Never reluctant to share his knowledge as he rushes about catering to his customers, Joey tells me over a potato tortilla and cold drink that Aviles was a key to Spain’s exploration for new territory. He points out that the 16th century Spanish explorer Pedro Menedez de Aviles sailed from the walled city to the new world where he founded America’s oldest continually populated city of San Augustin (St. Augustine, Florida). San Augustin is their sister city and their patron saint. While he stops to top up my glass Joey expounds on Asturians in Cuba. Spaniards sailed from Aviles to the Caribbean Island where they were instrumental in developing the island country’s tobacco farming prior to Castro’s regime. El Café de Joey now sits where the medieval cities wall once stood.
That brings us back to The Beltaine Festival. Celtic music is a big part of Asturian history including bagpipes or gaitas, as they are known in Spain. The Gaiteras are usually accompanied by tamboril (snare drum) and requinta (fife) and folk dancers. The Beltaine Festival attracts Celtic performers from around the Principality of Asturia, Scotland, France, England and this year Juan Carlos took a leap of faith and for the first time invited a Canadian group. From the start of the festival The Inverglen Scottish Dancers performed on the main stage in Parque De La Muelles, in the Plaza De Espana and around the old town to enthusiastic audiences.
A short train ride away is Gijon, much more touristy then Aviles it is worth a day trip. The Museu del Pueblu d’Asturies preserves the history of the Asturian people and includes a collection of habitats and Horreos from the 17th to 20th century as well as the Asturian Pavilion that was built for the Seville Expo ‘92. It’s well worth a visit. Before catching the train back to Aviles check out the market in Plaza Mayor or just enjoy the sun and sand along Plaza de San Lorenzo.
Joe, my husband, and I arrived in Munich, Germany on a sunny afternoon in September. Using the airport mini bus service we arrived in Kundle an hour and a half later. Anna, the Master Carver’s wife, a small, slim lady with sparkling eyes ran down a flight of stairs to greet us. She whisked us to a spacious second floor guest room with a large deck overlooking gardens and a spectacular view of the mountains. We followed Anna as she ran across the garden and up another flight of stairs that led to a door with an impressive eagle carved in relief. Stepping through the door was akin to entering a tree house filled with industrious wood spirits. Sunlight filtered through floor to ceiling windows of a huge workshop, sharp tools sizzled across fragrant pine. Intricate carvings came to life under Herr Binder’s soft spoken direction and shrewd eye.
Carving in Kundle was a unique experience, surrounded by beautiful carvings it was impossible not to be inspired. Eagles, wings outstretched, perched near windows as though waiting to take flight. Alpine Ibex, with enormous backward curving horns, seemed ready to leap off craggy, wooden rocks. Larger than life faces with swirling beards, tangled hair and mischievous eyes smiled down from walls as we carved.
Postcards often depict glimpses of destinations quite unrelated to reality. Kundle is the exception. Intricately carved wooden balconies and eves changed pastel colored walls of houses, shops and restaurants into whimsical gingerbread creations. Geraniums, petunias and ferns tumbled in cascades of color from every balcony and window box. The Hanging Gardens of Babylon could not have looked more beautiful. Narrow winding streets led to fountains where children splashed on their way home from school and towns people gathered to eat lunch. Five restaurants served a variety of food, we enjoyed authentic Austrian dishes in a restaurant where massive wood furnishings, beams and doors were heavily decorated with carvings. Family members gathered in large groups for dinner and men in colorful lederhosen stopped for a pint of lager en-route to festival rehearsals. As the atmosphere filled with camaraderie, clinking glasses, bursts of regional songs and laughter, enhanced by wafts from the kitchen of frying Wiener Schnitzel, Goulash and apfelstrudel, we felt we were on stage, part of the cast in a movie extravaganza.
Strolling home one evening after a delicious meal of smoked trout in a mid seventeenth century Pension we heard the clanging of cow bells. A herd of cows came bustling up a side-street heading for their night quarters in a barn attached to a house. At seven o’clock in the evening it was the duty of anyone passing by to stand at the top of the street and encourage the animals not to make a detour through town.
I signed up for three weeks carving instruction, choosing to carve mornings only, leaving time to catch the train to numerous small Tyrolean towns within thirty minutes ride of Kundle. Even the smallest town boasted a castle, large or small, huddled on mountain tops the castles looked down on the inhabitants like benevolent protectors. Rattenburg with a population of 440 is the smallest town in the country. Founded in the 14th century it was built in the shadow of Rat Mountain to protect it from marauders. Following ancient cobblestone streets we stumbled upon a glass blowing demonstration. A cavernous area hewn deep into rock displayed hand blown glass animals, birds, dragons and flowers. Suspended from the cave ceiling lit by soft, revolving colored lights the glass sculptures cast dancing shadows across ancient stone walls. Sparkling Austrian crystal, dazzling rainbows of color, glistened like stalactites in dark corners. This little town, characterized by its medieval ambience is known far and wide as “glass town.”
Kufstein, located between South Tyrol in Italy and Bavaria in Germany is known as the “pearl of the Tyrol.” It has about 15,000 inhabitants, the majestic Kufstein Fortress, a massive fortification dating from the mid 12th century rears above the town on a precipitous crag. An interesting feature of the fortress is the “Heroes” organ built in 1931 it was the first open air organ in the world. During summer months concerts are played at noon each day in memory of those who died in the two world wars. In both world wars the Fortress tunnels were used for shelter. Sitting in an out-door café by the beautiful Inn River savoring chocolate cream cake while listening to the soulful organ music float down from the fortress and drift through the flower filled historical district below is a magical experience. The music can be heard eight miles away.
The year was 1492 and as they rode into town Ferdinand and Isabella were accompanied by a certain Christopher Columbus, there to seek support for an expedition to the Indies.
Perhaps the royal couple did not pick up on the allegorical design (the original meaning of harem, or al haram, is sanctuary). The four streams of paradise flow from each wing to the central fountain of aforementioned lions. The impression is that of a desert oasis, with the columns lining the courtyard standing in for palm trees.
The conquest of Granada was of such importance to Ferdinand and Isabella that they commissioned a royal chapel in the city to house their remains. Visitors can still pay their respects here, just around the corner from the muscular Christian cathedral.
There was to be another brick-and-mortar response to Islam and at much closer quarters, within the walls of the Alhambra itself . When Charles V came to power in Spain, not long after the conquest of Granada, he wanted his residence to be both close to the Nasrid palaces and fit for an emperor.
It would appear that alongside the religious fervour that was to culminate in the expulsion of all Muslims from Spain in 1609, there was something of a grudging respect for their culture. On the day they entered Granada, Ferdinand and Isabella wore elaborate Moorish costumes which had been commissioned especially.
Walking up the Caldereria Nueva, a sloped street in the lower Albaicin and within sight of the Alhambra, you could be forgiven for thinking you’re not in Spain at all. That or you are, but it’s the middle ages. The narrow street is lined with souk style North African merchants and Moroccan teterias, or tea houses. The owners sit outside their shops at the quieter times and gossip here as they do in Fez, Cairo and Damascus. From the teterias the aroma of minted tea is accompanied by that of the sheesha, or water pipe. Arabic is the lingua franca in this neighborhood, along with French, Spanish and of course English.
Coincidence it seems, is to be found at the heart of this city’s defining moments as often as are these two faiths. Across the Darro valley, the Alhambra’s most prominent feature from here is the Comares tower which houses the Hall of the Ambassadors. It’s the most impressive and stately of the rooms a visitor will see on their tour, having just stepped in from the bright light of the Courtyard of the Myrtles, a delight for the ear as well as the eye, its fountains babbling at either end of a mirror smooth pool.
Some things change, and some never seem to. The centuries that have passed since Columbus’ voyage have frequently been troubled by encounters between Islam and Christianity, between both and secularism. The ramparts of the Alhambra have withstood. In our times of idealogical clash and religious hatred, the Moorish edifice stands all the more alluring; a testament to the shared history of cultures and faiths, if not reconciled then at least intertwined in the stone and tile work of the Alhambra and in the lives of its occupants.
Pope John XXIII praised the Ðakovo’s landmark as “the most beautiful church between Venice and Istanbul.” We were impressed by the cathedral’s neo-Gothic-Romanesque style even without the Pope’s words. Before we had time to fully appreciate the magnificent cathedral, we had to join in the first program of the day.
Religious practices have always been an integral part of all Croatian festivals. Ðakovacki Vezovi is no exception. Mass at the St. Peter’s Cathedral follows the parade.
The highlight in the afternoon was equestrian competition and performance held in the hippodrome, showcasing the Lipizzaner breed. Ðakovo’s first official stud farm was founded more than 500 years ago, long before the Lipizzaner horses came to Ðakovo in 1806. But Ðakovo soon shifted exclusively to the breeding of these noble horses. The Lipizzaner breed has made Ðakovo famous beyond the Croatian borders for more than 200 years.
Visitors could go to the stable for a close contact with these beautiful creatures. To my surprise, the horses remained calm even though so many strangers were moving around them. In the meantime, the equestrians were busy preparing the horses for the performances at the hippodrome.
