Friday, June 21, 2013

The Longest Day:

Pézenas and Méze via Béziers and back

          I have scheduled a morning visit to Pézenas, a town associated with Molière, the 17th century playwright, actor and founder of the Comédie Française, so that Alline can see the town and the work of its artisans.  We are due to meet Francine in Mèze, where I am dropping off groceries in anticipation of my week of cat-sitting while she is in Denmark, and then the three of us are having lunch.

          But before I launch out in an easterly direction, I have to find out whether the garage at Levignan-Corbières has received the replacement battery for the Clio #4.  Yesterday Monsieur Pascual told me to call him at 10:00 a.m., so today, after going about 12 miles, Alline and I stop in Homps, the village and boat basin on the Canal du Midi to have a coffee before I call him.  Monsieur Pascual tells me the battery has not arrived and that I will have to call him Monday, when it is likely to be delivered.  This is highly inconvenient, as on Monday, I will be two hours away in Mèze, meaning a four-hour round trip is in store for me.  I try getting Europa Car to extend the rental of the Seat until I return to the area, but the Europa Car emergency service personnel are adamant.  So long as I am in France, they say, I have to pick up the car Monday.  On to the next challenge, driving to Pézenas.

          I have no problem driving out of Caunes or traveling the local roads as far as the western outskirts of Béziers, where I am supposed to turn left and drive north around Béziers to the junction for Montady and Pézenas.  Notwithstanding, once I reach the left turn-off, I am stymied by the traffic signs and waste an hour trying to stay out of the Centre Ville.  Finally, I give up and we head for the toll road to Mèze, turning off at Exit 33 and making it to Mèze by noon.  Francine is, once again, incredulous at my divagations, although she does concede that it is difficult to negotiate the traffic circles without getting lost.  "In six months, I am sure you will be a master", she says encouragingly.

          Fortunately, the trip to Pézenas is not so fraught.  In Place Gambetta we visit Tout Ce Qui Brille ("All That Glitters"), the workshop of Olivier Dahlman, a master gilder.  He sorts out a question that has long troubled me: What is the difference between gilding with water and gilding with oil?  The answer is that the former is an older technique, but a more wasteful one than gilding with oil.  However, incising any kind of designs on a surface can only be done after water gilding.  In both cases, the finished product is polished with a piece of agate mineral.  Anything can be gilded Olivier tells me: clients bring their children's baby shoes to be gilded, for instance.  Throughout the workshop, and more to my liking, hang examples of mirrors he has gilded in a variety of shades of gold, lovely antique pieces given a second life. 

          Further on, we see the shop of a master potter and painter of faience, François Siffre.  He makes his wares in the style for which nearby Montpellier was famous in the 16th century, a grey base onto which blue borders are painted, the centers embellished with brightly colored flowers.  Finally, we reach Le Carrefour de Soie ("The Crossroads of Silk"), where Ahmed Chakkaki weaves silk in the style of Damascus.  We have only scratched the surface of the creativity of the Péznois artisans.  

          In the former hotel particular that belonged to Baron Vulliod-Saint German, now a museum that bears his name, there is an exhibit of clothing worn by the wealthy of Pézenas from 1789 to the Second Empire.  I am struck by how very small and delicate the wearers of the finely made garments were.  More striking still is the great wooden chair, tall, stiff-backed and made of the heaviest wood known, as le fauteuil de Molière.  Molière, a traveling player who spent considerable time in Pézenas, was friendly with a barber named Gély, who took such a fancy to the wordsmith that anyone attempting to sit in the chair was shooed away.  The chair remained in the family for more than two centuries, until a few years ago, the Amis de Pézenas, a civic organization, clubbed together and bought the chair so it could be placed in the Musée Vulliod-Saint Germain.  There is one other fauteuil de Molière: it stands at the entrance of the Comédie Française, in Paris, Molière's memorial.

          Tonight is the Fête de la Musique all over France, a sort of culturally-mandated party in celebration of the first day of summer, which involves musical celebrations in town squares throughout the country.  In Pézenas, technicians and musicians on a sound stage are getting ready to perform in a few hours.  Alline and I have a salade peznois in a café opposite: lettuce with walnut oil dressing, garnished with raisins and garnished with a pastry that looks like a large spool for thread and filled with mincemeat.  Indeed, these pâtes de Pézenas, have an interesting history.  They were introduced to Pézenas in the mid-18th century by an Englishman, Robert Clive, First Baron Clive, conqueror of India.  Clive lived in the Château de Larzac in 1768, at which time his Indian cooks introduced the delicacy, a variant of the savory known as keema nan.  They are available all over Pézenas.

           We are able to leave before the noise starts, and make it back to Caunes-Minervois swiftly, as I am now getting the hang of the road to Béziers, even if it will take a few more trips before I can get to the A75 and east.  I have driven in and out of so many narrow corners, negotiated enough tight spots, driven through enough ruts masquerading as roads, that I am gaining confidence as a driver, a role I never imagined for myself.