Well, it’s as well we had our afternoon naps. We were aware of a lot of food preparation going on next door during the early afternoon: it turns out to have been in preparation for a big noisy party. We just about managed to get to sleep, but the combination of loud music and conversation - and a visit from one of the neighbourhood cats via a door we’d left ajar for ventilation - made it clear we were in for a nuit blanche. In the small hours, we gave up and went downstairs for a cup of tea. Around 03:30 I went round in baffies and goonie with a polite but exasperated ‘can’t you turn the volume down? People are trying to sleep’, leaving with an emphatic slam of the door. Well, the volume did go down a little, but not for another three hours, so it was broad daylight by the time we got a couple of hours’ fitful sleep. The still-loud music and raucous laughter went on until about 09:30.
After breakfast we went out for a drive to our favourite viewpoint over the Pic de Bugarach and the Pyrenees, which still have quite a lot of snow on the higher slopes. As usual, we were serenaded by a lark when we got there. The flowers are better at altitude: lots of orchids, broom, scabious, poppies, asphodel, verbascum and plenty more that I couldn’t name.
We had lunch in Limoux, ordering a Caesar salad apiece, emphasising that we wanted no onions. They arrived absolutely full of raw onion, and so went straight back. The replacements were satisfactory and generous. A gentle amble afterwards back up to Carcassonne and over the hill from Capendu, then down the Congoust gorge to Camplong. The party seems to have been disbanded, with replacement noise pollution from a loud-mouthed builder and his cement mixer. Such a peaceful little village, Lagrasse.
2 comments:
I gather that it was the house on Rue Magene, just down the way; no. 19 or so. We've had problems with that house before, as it's rented out during the summer, usually to loud and thoughtless visitors.
No, it was No 27.
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