A walk up the hill to a lookout over Quillan

This afternoon Tom and I go exploring up the hill above Quillan’s old castle. Despite the sunshine, I wear many layers of clothing. You can’t be too careful at this time of year. Tom is more lightly dressed. More sensibly dressed, as it turns out.

We start by going up Rampe du Chateau. This leads us onto Rue de Bitrague. Now we go offroad.

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Chateau de Quillan

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A walk above Ginole

Nicholas and I went for a walk on the tracks above the tiny village Ginole, France. It was warm for the time of year, so Nicholas was happy to leave the extra layers of clothing in our bag. We stopped to look for vultures a few times but saw none. We saw a long-legged spider walking up the track and we followed it some way. Nicholas was careful to not step on it.

The village bell donged 12 times at 11am (no adjustment from summer time to winter time, apparently), then repeated that two minutes later. I counted the chimes and Nicholas stamped his foot to the rhythm.

The track was crumbly and steep in places so we held hands.

A very pleasant morning. Thanks, Nicholas.

At the farmer’s table

For the latest organised Saturday walk, the rest of the family having arrived in Quillan, Tomos opted to stay at home with his brothers, leaving me to enjoy a walk in the winter sun, ‘on my own’. It was a little odd, not having my constant companion at my side, but a chance to chat with different people and, sometimes, just to enjoy ambling along on my own, at my own pace, without the need for conversation.

This week’s walk, like the first, was again for Telethon, a big event here with weeks of fundraising events culminating this past weekend with televised coverage, and a full programme of activities from zumba, to vide greniers (a community garage sale) and organised walks. There were two walks of different lengths to choose from, both leaving from the hamlet of farmhouses at Pailheres near Esperaza, known as Les Soubirous.

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Holes

There’s something about holes. They’re real – everyone knows that. And yet, they’re not really real. A hole is really just the absence of the real stuff that surrounds it. It’s as real as a shadow. In fact, a shadow is a hole; a light-hole. I’m thinking about holes because the day after tomorrow I plan on walking with an organised group to a hole (I hope) in a mountain above a town in the Pyrenees. Continue reading