Darren left first thing this morning to go to a conference in America, and now we are only seven.

It was cold and raining this morning so we decided to drive up into the mountains (Montagne Noire) to explore more Cathar country. In the beautiful village of Saissac was a gorgeous old ruined castle and medieval village. Our first point of call was a restaurant that had a panoramic view overlooking the gully and mountainside including the beautiful old castle. (See the view from our restaurant – it was still cloudy and wet at this stage which made the view all the more atmospheric).

We then proceeded to have one of the best lunches I have ever enjoyed! First course – bread and several type of pates and local terrines, second course – foi gras on soft gingerbread with fig jam, third course – scallop mornay on the shell with small local freshwater lobsters. At this stage I really thought I couldn’t eat any more, but then the fourth course arrived – confit of duck with green beans. By this stage we were groaning – but then we were served reverse bomb Alaska (Praline and nuts on the outside of an ice cream ball with meringue in the middle). By this stage we were truly stuffed and received the bill that was quite a bit higher than we had expected (huge mark up on the wine and coffee). The meal finished with the owner of the restaurant driving me to the neatest ATM, flying through the tiny streets in his little car smoking a cigarette, wearing no seat belt talking to me nonstop in French!

We rolled out of the restaurant and down the hill to explore the castle. A very interesting history accompanies this castle – it is a small castle, but well designed and perched on the edge of a very steep cliff. In the early 1200s, Simon de Montford and his troops spend 10 years trying to break into this castle in their crusade against the Cathars. In the end the noble man who owned this castle and was sympathetic to the Cathars, handed himself over to Catholic troops and the residents of the castle were allowed to leave and resettle to establish the village). My French is still completely terrible, but pictures within the tourist site seemed to suggest that residents of the castle were made to leave in the nude (I may have misinterpreted that although I am not sure what else the picture would have been conveying!).

The castle was a beautiful ruin which we were allowed to roam through and explore freely. It was an Enid Blyton moment where we could walk through the rubble, peer into old dungeons and position ourselves behind archers’ slits and imagine ourselves firing at Crusaders below.

While I have been here I have been learning a lot about the history in the local area which I have found absolutely fascinating. The whole area is broken up with old villages every 5kms or so and I never get sick of wandering into an old church and seeing the wonderful frescoes and art works within them.

I have become particularly fascinated with the history of the Cathars who lived in this area around the 1100s and were exterminated by the Catholic Church over a period of 100 years. From what I can understand, the Cathars were a Christian sect who had rejected the materialism of the Catholic Church and tried as much as possible, to live like the early Christians. Their sect was gaining popularity in this region as well as Spain and parts of Italy and the Catholic Church decided to lead a “holy” crusade against their fellow Christians to eliminate them. Over this time thousands of people (men, women and children) were slaughtered or burned at the stake. One village nearby has a plaque explaining that 50 people were burned at the stake in their square at the same time. In the town of Beziers, the priest in charge of the crusade allegedly instructed his army of noblemen and mercenaries to kill everyone in the town, Catholic, Cathar or atheist, as “God would know his own”. It’s easy to think that men in power in those days were completely ruthless and we know so much better today, but then we watch the news of what is happening in the Gaza strip this week in the name of God, and we realise that not much has changed in 1000 years.

I’m not sure what happened in St Felix during this time. In those days it was called Belle Vue but was named after a French Saint Felix (a hermit who devoted his life to God and returned soldiers) around this time.

There are many ruins of Cathar castles in the Pyrenees and Andorra area which I hope to visit in the next few weeks.

Riley is heading back to Singapore today so that last two days have been devoted to kids’ fun, to give him some lovely memories to send him off. Yesterday we all headed to Cri de Tarzan which is an outdoor adventure play area with big trees to climb and flying foxes. When we arrived with five very excited boys, we found out that Michael could not participate because he was wearing the wrong shoes (crocs instead of sneakers). Michael bore this news pretty bravely and luckily he was allowed to go into the little kids area where there was a less challenging parcour course and a jumping castle.

The big boys were briefed in French regarding the safety equipment as they climbed into the tree tops, with Blaise translating for Nick. (Blaise has acted as a translator for us several times over the last week and Nick has started to become interested in learning French – he downloaded a French learning app onto his iPod and has been practising in the last couple of days). And then the boys were off – climbing trees onto high platforms, walking across rope bridges and sailing across gullies on flying foxes. It was absolutely excellent boy fun and hopefully we can return before we go home so that Michael can participate fully.

Today we drove into Toulouse to have lunch at an American Diner, which the boys loved, and Go Carting, before dropping Riley off to the airport. He is such an experienced traveller that he is flying to Singapore by himself with a changeover of planes at Heathrow. He is the oldest of the boys in the family and a really lovely person who has made Michael especially feel very welcomed and included. We miss him already. Tomorrow morning Darren leaves to give a paper at a conference in America. The house will be much quieter and emptier without the two of them.

It’s been a few days since I’ve written in the blog because life has been so busy and fun. Generally everything runs later here – we all get up around 9.00am, have lunch around 3.00pm and eat dinner around 10.00pm and go to bed around midnight. The day start off coolish and then the cloud burns off and the afternoons and evenings are hot. Sunset is around 10.30pm.

Darren and Cecily have a few friends around the area – mostly English people who live in the area. They have introduced us to most of them and there have been long, boozy lunches and dinners with amazing food.

Two days ago Cecily took me for a walk into the village. We walked past a local fig tree, found a perfectly ripe black fig which we picked off the vine and ate, and then climbed the steep hill into the town. As we rounded the corner of Rue des Nobles into the village square we walked past the tavern where the locals were sitting outside having an “apero”. An old friend of Cecily’s who had also lived in Singapore was there and bought us un kia and we sat outside for a few hours shooting the breeze and enjoying the ambiance.

The next day was market day in the neighbouring village of Revel so we set off with plenty of shopping bags and bought a feast. Culinary treasures included Brie en fig, cathar cheese, salami, cherries (big box for 3 euros), two different types of olives, Roma tomatoes, baguette (of course) and the most flavoursome rotisserie chicken I have ever eaten. We brought it home, and sat in the sun by the pool for a beautiful Saturday lunch.

In the afternoon we walked up to the village to be fitted out for our costumes for the village parade next Saturday. Every year the whole village dresses up and parades through the streets in medieval costume. This year we will be a part of it. The church hall has over 1800 costumes from different periods in history which they often loan out to people around the world (including Melbourne). This year we are all dressing as Renaissance people. The boys look beautiful in the jackets, pantaloons, and chapeaus (photos to follow on Saturday). Cecily and I will be wearing Renaissance style dresses with head dresses (more photos to follow). The parade will be followed by a medieval feast in the chateau. Apparently they didn’t have vegetables in medieval times so we will be eating venison and lentils! I hope they had cutlery in those days!

When we got home, Cecily had some friends over (an English lady who has lived in Australia for 14 years and her French husband). We cooked coq au vin and peach crumble for dinner and drank lots of delicious wine (the wine is so cheap and so good here that I could become a total alcoholic if I stay here too long).

Today we got up early and drove to a nearby village where they had a dog show. Lots of dogs were running though obstacle courses with their masters and plenty of puppies were on sale (we all fell in love). Nick had a go at archery, shooting at a fake rabbit and ordered a ball of candy floss that was bigger than his head!

At lunch time we met with a group of Cecily and Darren’s friends at a restaurant next to the Canal de Midi to celebrate multiple zero birthdays (some were turning 40 and others 50). We enjoyed a degustation menu in the sun, had plenty of laughs and enjoyed the wine so much bought a crate of it to bring home.

Chris is more happy and relaxed than I have ever seen him. The kids are enjoying exploring and hanging out with their friends. I’m enjoying the unique experiences on offer here and am beginning to relax enormously. It’s such a beautiful part of the world with the old villages and rolling green hills of sunflowers…..totally happy. 🙂

Chris’ foot was much better the next morning. Such a relief that those antibiotics are working.

We loved Orleans, but we were keen to get on the road. By 11.00am we had checked out and began our journey on the freeway to St Felix Lauragais. At lunch time we pulled off the freeway to a small village and found a restaurant/bar that appeared to be serving lunch. It was full of workmen and truck drivers and the hostess bid us to find a table. There were no menus, but soon she arrived at our table with four plates with soft baby leeks, coleslaw, boiled eggs and a slice of pork that had the texture of silverside. None of us liked the look of it for a start, but once Chris and Nick and I had started eating it, we found it absolutely delicious (Michael wouldn’t touch it, much to the hostess’ disappointment). We were ready to leave when she arrived again with a big platter laden with savoury rice and stuffed tomatoes which were absolutely delicious. Halfway though lunch Chris went to the bar and ordered me a glass of white wine and was given a bottle. When I thought we couldn’t move, the hostess returned with a large plate of local cheeses – so of course we had to try them all. Finally she retuned a fourth time with a plate of ice creams. I really couldn’t eat any more, but all my boys ate them them very happily. I was curious to see what this would all cost as there were no prices listed anywhere. It was……wait for it…..42 euros including the bottle of wine! Unbelievable! France can be so cheap once you are outside of Paris.

We continued our long journey toward Toulouse stopping every few kilometres to pay a toll. At the first toll gate we discover that our card was not accepted and we had to wait for several long minutes with a queue of cars behind us until someone came to accept cash from us instead. But the drivers behind us were patient and no one tooted their horns!

It was close to an 800km trip between Paris and Toulouse which is equivalent to a trip between Sydney and Melbourne. As we finally turned off the highway at Toulouse and drove towards Cecily and Darren’s house the scenery changed dramatically. Imagine bright blue skies, rolling hills filled with sunflowers everywhere and the occasional 12th or 13th century walled village sitting on top of a hill. It was stunning! We finally arrived at the Hanson’s country home at around 7.00pm to a very warm welcome. The kids ran off, we explored their property and then we had a beautiful (Australian weber BBQ) out on their deck looking the the walled 12th century village of St Felix lit up in front of us. Magic.

The next morning we awoke and Cecily took me into the village to buy provisions from the boulangerie. The shop keepers in the village speak no English but Cecily speaks fluent French – she ordered a wide range of pastries for our breakfast and some baguette for lunch. We joined the boys by a nearby lake for breakfast and ate our delicious pastries in the sunshine. From there we traveled to the nearby village of Castelnaudry to explore some more, before lunch at the Canal de Midi. There we watched boats floating down the river, and travelling though a loch to continue down the river. These boats have to go though a gate, and sit in a holding area that fills up with water until the water level is level with the canal in front of it, before passing though. This system dates back to the 1600s and it was fascinating to watch.

In the evening after dinner, we went to the Chateau in the village to watch a French jazz band play in the courtyard as the sun went down. It was surreal. We watched the sky turn a beautiful shade of indigo blue that I have only seen in story books and sat quite entranced as the band played a wide range of French songs including “Oh Toulouse”. Sometimes I just want to pinch myself.

We got up at 6.00am, and found Chris’s foot to be a bit better. In our usual fashion left home late (after bidding good bye to John and thanking him for his wonderful hospitality – he even donated his bed! Nicest nephew ever!) and then panicked all the way to St Pancras to check back into the Eurostar.

The children were their usual, noisy, high spirited selves which really stands out among the Brits but stands out even more among the French. Chris and I feel like we are enacting a parody of National Lampoons European Vacation – our family is so boisterous, we must seem like total hill-billies to the locals.

We landed in Paris again, (God it was good to be back!) jumped onto the metro and headed out to the Citroen factory to pick up our brand new lease car! The hand over went very smoothly, we packed up the car (all the luggage fit easily into the boot) and off Chris drove into the wild Parisian traffic. Thank god he is driving! I have done this before (25 years ago) but every time we turned a corner my impulse was to turn into the left side of the road instead of the right. But Chris was confident and seamless and seemed absolutely delighted with himself (as he should be!). Part of his confidence was instilled by our GPS which we made sure our new car would have. Within a few minutes it became obvious however, that the GPS was on another planet or at least another city, as it directed us down non-existent streets and showed our progress driving across the city parks (I can assure you Chris stuck to the streets!). It became clear that if we didn’t do something, we would still be driving around Paris even now. Good old Apple. Is there anything that iPhone cannot do? We pulled ups the maps and giggled as we watched the two GPSs directing us completely opposite directions and eventually, by what seemed like a complete fluke, we ended up in Versailles. The plan had been to spend the afternoon here before driving onto Orleans, but one look at the crowds outside ( there would have literally been thousands of people lining up outside) we decided to grab a baguette for lunch (yah, back in the land of baguettes,) and keep driving. Hopefully we can return to Versailles at some stage in the next few weeks.

We arrived in Orleon a couple of hours later (no thanks to the car’s GPS), checked into our gorgeous French hotel and looked around the city. It is absolutely equisitite! (Look at the photos if you don’t believe me!). The architecture is beautiful and some of it dates back to the 1400s or before, it has trams but they’re colour coordinated with the buildings and the streets and buildings are completely pristine.

I begged the boys to not embarrass me (any further) in front of the polite and reserved French and the threatened them with iPod removal. Of course they completely ignored me while I was in a chemist which resulted in a street altercation (yes NLEV!!) and tears from Nick, which led to much discussion from mum and dad and finally an impromptu visit to the Joan of Arc gallery which in happened to be outside. Joan’s story inspired the boys and we went searching for more Joan paraphernalia around the city. We then came across a square where there were fountains……..and looked what happened next!

Yes my repressed little monkeys ran through the fountains screaming and yelling while the French looked on in amazement! (Nick even peeled his top off until I yelled at him to out it back on). But we all felt much better.

Dinner was at a French pub and it was lovely. I ordered the rump steak, medium rare, and it was served completely blue. I’m sure it doesn’t get more French than that. Chris and I had a Sancerre and a Rose and the kids had crepes for desert and we finished the day completely happy.

Chris awoke to find his foot was no worse (if not better), so we decided to stick to our plan to visit his godmother, Busby, in Bulmer Tye. After two tubes and two country trains we arrived at the gorgeous village of Sudsbury to find Busby waiting for us. I was completely entranced with this beautiful place – many of the houses were over 800 years old with tiny little doors. The streets were narrow and there were pretty English gardens everywhere. It must be wonderful to live in a place like that.

Busby drove us in her little car to her house nearby – Bulmer Tye House. Parts of her house date back to the 1600s and the whole house is really interesting – from the rainbow coloured kitchen with the Aga, the decorative clavichord and dolls house that Busby’s husband Peter made or the toy museum in the attic (full of toys and clothes belonging to her parents and grand parents). We had coffee in the garden while the children played with Busby and Peter’s grand child, Leno.

After lunch Busby showed us some interesting artefacts her father had gathered in his exploration of the artic in the 1930s such as an ash tray made for him on his birthday by an Eskimo or the replica of the Eskimo canoe he paddled in made with seal skin. It was a really interesting and unique afternoon and Busby and Peter were lovely hosts.

We took the trains home to meet John and went for a seriously delicious curry. Our last night in London was a sad one. We haven’t seen nearly enough of this interesting city. We must return soon.

We have been doing a lot of walking and it has started to take a toll on our feet. Chris had a blister which had become infected and when he woke up this morning his whole foot was swollen and infected. Being a Sunday, there weren’t a whole lot of options open to us so we jumped into a taxi and took him to the A and E at Whittington hospital. Apparently no one pays for medical treatment in England and that includes unfortunate tourists, but the hospital looked like something out of a modern Charles Dickens novel with outside peeling off and a minimum 6 hour wait for medical treatment. (Not unlike an Australian public hospital actually). We were advised to find an out of hours GP, so Chris rang a service and was given an appointment at another public hospital around lunch time. The taxi ride to the second hospital took us through a few London suburbs and I was struck by how depressing some of them were with tall, dark, ugly brick buildings piled next to each other and unkempt, uncared for gardens (where residents were lucky to have one). But then you’d stumble across the most beautiful park and realise that London residents have access to some great public, community spaces ( as well as free public health care). At the second hospital we ever seen early by a lovely doctor who nearly yelped when he saw Chris’ foot ( and refused to touch it!). He advised him that it was very lucky we hadn’t waited any longer for treatment, prescribed two different super strength antibiotics (to cover the two most likely strains for infection) and warned him that if it got any worse we needed to return to the hospital tomorrow for intravenous antibiotics! Yikes!!!!

We returned home, via two different pharmacies and put Chris’s foot up. It was effectively my last chance to see London, so I grabbed Michael (Nick was fed up with sight seeing), took a tube into Waterloo and went for a stroll along the river with 2 million other people. It was incredibly vibrant along the riverside with different types of buskers every few steps, ice cream vans everywhere (yes Michael got another ice cream) and crowds! I was feeling quite frustrated about London – I’ve read so much about the history, there was so much I wanted to understand and look at, but so far I felt I had just seen the outside of a few places and felt really unsatisfied. Michael and I hopped onto a boat with very low expectations, but we found a couple of seats up the top and at the front, where we got a great view, and discovered there was a commentary (yah!!!!!!). As we cruised down the river our very helpful guide explained all the buildings and monuments along the river side and their origin. It wasn’t as much detail as I wanted, but for an hour long cruise it was great – we saw Cleopatras Needle, Wren’s Steps, Ladies Bridge and my favourite Tower Bridge.

When we returned home, Chris reported that his foot might be feeling a little bit better. Fingers crossed.

Today we got a late start because we are all beginning to feel so tired. We dragged ourselves out of the house at around 11.00am and took the tube into London (catching 4 different train lines in an effort to be as efficient as possible). We decided to alight at Whitechapel which turns out to be a Muslim area with interesting markets. We strolled through looking with interest at burkas for sale alongside exotic looking jewellery. Eventually we came to Auldgate, the old gate to the City of a London still guarded with a griffin. we had learnt earlier in the morning about the City of London’s unique status separate from the rest of England and how the city is still guarded by the griffins when you look around. As we strolled though the old city I was struck by the groovy juxtaposition of the very old sitting alongside the very new. Everything about London is funky.

We couldn’t resist lunch at an old English pub where we had an excellent meal in traditional English surroundings, before walking further to the (for me) the long anticipated Tower of London. I have read so much about what has happened here over the years that I was bursting with expectation. The outside of the Tower did not disappoint – a huge castle, with two walls guarded by lions alongside Tower Bridge.

Sadly for me, because my expectations were so high, the rest of the tour felt frustrating. There were a million tourists there and I really wanted to explore and get to grips with the “real” Tower of London – instead there were people constantly in the way of everything I wanted to look at and lots and lots of exhibitions on guns, cannons, armour blah, blah, blah. The great thing was that both boys fully engaged with the Tower and what it had to teach them. Nick was really inspired by the castle and the way it was designed and very impressed that his ancestor, William the Conqueror, had built the white tower in the centre. Michael loved the armoury. I of course, wanted to know all about King Henry VIII’s wives and what happened to them here.

At the end of the day we took another very hot, and very crowded tube home (God we are so lucky we don’t have to deal with that every day) and had another lovely evening chatting to John.

The day began with a walk across the park and ride in a double decker bus. Nick raced to the top and scored us the front seats and we had a fantastic view as the aggressive driver drove up the back of cyclists and sped through red lights. We alighted at Piccadilly Circus and found ourselves in the heart of London. From there it was a short walk to Trafalgar Square and then a rest from the intense heat and sunshine in St James Park.

Nick was flagging badly so we had to miss Buckingham Palace 🙁 but we pushed on to Westminster Abbey and Parliament House before catching a stinking hot tube home.

John returned home early from work and we had a party at his place with some of his friends. Sinead, his girlfriend, made beautiful gin and tonics with mint (!!) my new favourite drink, while the kids ran around outside having nerf gun wars. By 1.00am it really was time to go to bed.