When I conceived the idea for a virtual tour de France, the Languedoc-Roussillon area was the halfway point but also my ultimate destination. All the roads in my mind lead to it. Our last visit to France was our first to this region, and it captured my heart. My goal is that in retirement, the Languedoc will be our home base for travel and other adventures.
This region, along with the Midi-Pyrénées, is now called Occitanie in the current administrative divisions of France. Culturally and historically, it was part of the region of Occitania that included most of southern France, parts of Spain and some of northern Italy. Occitan was its dominant language and still has some native speakers. For centuries, the hexagon we now call France was largely divided by language: the langue d’oïl of the north and the langue d’oc of the south. It is beyond my expertise to attempt a blog-concise summary of this relationship and history, but for those who enjoy historical fiction, some of Kate Mosse’s novels will get you acquainted.
For our visit in May of 2018, we drove from Carcassonne to La Tour la Pagèze, a winery that includes B&B guest accommodations. We found it through the Gites de France booking service, which we also used for our winery stay in Gascony. Five of five stars for both!
I can’t attribute any single experience for my continuing love affair with the Languedoc, but I can decisively say it started with Claudine, who owns La Tour la Pagèze with her family. Claudine welcomed us as if we were dear, long-missed friends. Her warmth and hospitality now define the south of France for me. We arrived weary after a week of traveling and a drive from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean, and Claudine’s remedy for that was a complementary bottle of chilled chardonnay on her balcony overlooking the vineyards. All of this, a large private room with a balcony, and an outstanding breakfast the next morning, for about 40 euros.
Claudine’s story is as beautiful as her hospitality. (I learned this in Franglish, so hopefully I understood correctly.) Her grandparents migrated from the Catalan region of Spain as laborers in the vineyards of the Languedoc, and her parents also worked in the vineyards. It was their family dream to one day have their own. About 20 years ago, Claudine, her husband Miguel, and her brother Jean-Marie, saved enough to make that dream come true and purchased the Domaine la Tour la Pagèze. My understanding is that the parents have passed, but the winery honors their memory with its Cuvée Joseph, one of the few bottles I packed in my luggage to enjoy at home.
Claudine’s generosity was not an aberration for the region. For dinner, we drove to the nearby town of Fleury d’Aude and wandered into a small café. The sign at D’ici et d’ailleurs referenced an intriguing globally-inspired tapas menu. The owner welcomed us, and our bad French gave us away as tourists, so where from? he inquired. Nous venons aux Etats-Unis. He was ecstatic: we were only the second Americans to dine in his restaurant! He explained that his menu was influenced by his wife, who hailed from Madagascar, and he kept bringing us delicious tidbits he wanted us to try. My only regret is that I was too busy chowing down to snap photos.
After a restful night’s sleep and a sunrise over the distant sea from our balcony, we ate our fill of Claudine’s generous breakfast of breads, cheeses, yogurt, fruit, and an egg or two. Worried that we might get hungry again (how could that be possible!), she packed us off with a loaf of cake for our day trip to Narbonne. “You must go to Les Halles!” she insisted. More food!
I have been obsessed with Narbonne ever since. A small city not previously on my radar, Narbonne basically ticks every box for me. A river, or rather a canal, runs through the heart of the city, connecting to the Mediterranean and the Canal du Midi. The central zone is pedestrian-friendly, with a plethora of restaurants and services. Its mild Mediterranean climate, wine-growing environs, and easy access to other destinations via the high-speed rail station could make it an ideal retirement base.
The city is steeped in history, serving as a provincial capital for the Romans. In the pedestrian center by the canal, a remnant of the Roman road reminds passers-by of this history.
Unfortunately, while visiting the magnificent year-round indoor food market, Les Halles, I was too overwhelmed to bother with my camera. The cheeses, the spices, the olives, the fruits, the fish! To think that could be my grocery every morning if I lived in Narbonne… ah.
I insist it was Les Halles that won me over to Narbonne, but my husband credits the gentleman at lunch. Although we weren’t in the slightest bit hungry, everything in Narbonne closes between 12 à 14 heures (noon to 2 p.m.) for the midday meal, so we joined in. We chose a canal-side restaurant, and while I do not remember what we ate, I remember what we drank, courtesy of a fellow diner. The couple at the next table heard us speaking English and ventured to inquire as to our origins. In a mix of Franglish, we understood them to have a son who lived in Chicago (as did we!), or perhaps he had just visited there. Anyways, the proud papa was a huge fan of Chicago as well as having great civic pride in his native city. He wanted us to try the local wine and gifted us with the remainder of his bottle. (I do love a country where people routinely order a bottle of wine for lunch).
Back to Claudine’s for the evening with our stash of bread, cheese, olives and fruit from Les Halles, and another complementary bottle from the winery, this time the excellent rosé.
Leaving the next morning was the saddest departure of our trip, and we vowed to return, a promise we still intend to keep as soon as we can cross the Atlantic again. (I know, France has reopened to visitors, but unfortunately we own an old house that will be zapping our travel funds with repairs this year.)
We drove from Fleury to Uzès, a delightful town technically in Occitanie but on the border with Provence, so I’ll include it with that chapter in our tour. We returned to the Languedoc after Uzès for a few days in Montpellier, a city that may give Narbonne a competition for our future home base.
The best thing about Montpellier for me is its approach to transportation. The city center is a car-free zone except for a few permitted delivery vehicles, whose access is controlled by retractable barriers in the pavement. A system of colorful trams circles the perimeter of the district to provide access to points beyond.
Montpellier is a lively university city surrounded by beaches, vineyards and landscapes of outstanding beauty. It also has a TGV station where a high-speed train can put you in Paris in about 3 hours.
To remember our time in the Languedoc, I prepared a Bourride à la Sètoise, a fish stew from the fishing village of Sète near Montpellier, as well as a Crema Catalan in honor of Claudine’s heritage.
Both dishes tasted better than my photos would indicate (I must get better at food photography!), and I hacked them from a compilation of recipes. Here’s a starting point for the crema catalan, and for the bourride.
As for wine, the Languedoc has much to offer. In recent decades, artisan makers have been working hard to overcome the region’s reputation for mass-produced table wine. Some very interesting and delicious wines are now made in Languedoc-Roussillon, and because they can’t command the prices of more famous regions, such as Bordeaux and Burgundy, exceptional values can be found. (See Jancis Robinson’s summary here and here for more info).
My go-to wine for the past year has been Michel Chapoutier’s Bila-Haut from the Cotes du Roussillon Villages appellation. It is $13.99 at my neighborhood wine shop and seems to pair well with every food.
A Seattle wine shop (whose owners have a home in the Languedoc) imports wines from some of the best small producers there. I’m looking forward to my first shipment from The Princess and the Bear and will try to update this blog with a review.
Stay tuned for Provence. À bientôt !
