Although this entry appears just a bit forbidding, it is the front door (so to speak) of the Chateau Comtal, or Castle Comtal--however you'd like to think of it. Apparently, in those early centuries, no amount of protection was too much, so this sturdy Chateau sits within its own set of walls which, in turn, are set within the double-walled City of Carcassonne.
Once through the Chateau's entryway, we find ourselves in the main courtyard which houses a conglomeration of connected buildings dating from the 12th and 13th centuries. From here, we wander in and out of doorways, climb multiple flights of stairs, admire treasures from days gone by, and explore the northern ramparts. It's cold, a little windy and spitting rain during our visit, all of which (as I mentioned in an earlier post) adds to the atmosphere of this massive medievel fortification.
Oddly enough, I don't think I've ever had a burning desire to go to France; not like I hungered for England, Scotland and Ireland. I've been with a tour group in Paris and with another for a few hours in Aix en Provence, and while those were wonderful experiences, I've still remained neutral about France. This trip, however, has changed all of that. I would go back to France in a heartbeat to do the type of touring this trip allowed. I think I'm actually happier to cover a smaller area, as long as there is enough time to see it well...and to savor it with a bit of rich hot chocolate and friends.
Obviously, the Chateau within the walled city sits on the highest ground, so we always seem to be looking down and over the countryside. But, actually I'm OK with that.
Uh oh...let me think about this. We're standing in the courtyard (ground level) looking into a low window covered with iron bars and thick cobwebs. My heart tells me "of course it's a dungeon." I hope, however, that it is not the dungeon in which Raymond-Roger de Trencavel--he who built and lived in the Chateau we are visiting--died under mysterious circumstances in the early 1200s, while negotiating his terms of surrender to the Papal Legate. The Legate, apparently, was displeased with Raymond-Roger's suggestions.
The stones used to build the Basilica of Saint Nazaire and Saint Celese (above center) were recovered from a 6th century church once located on the site. Pope Urban, in 1096, blessed those ancient stones and some decades later, the church was completed. Today, the exterior has been restored, while the interior remains rather stark, cold and Gothic. As is my habit, I lit a candle for my Mom at St. Nazaire. She, I think would have enjoyed everything about our day in Carcassonne.
I do love looking through the windows of centuries ago and imagining what they might have witnessed. I wonder about the people who passed here. Did they (I hope) find some happiness in Carcassonne, even amid the uncertainty of the times? What were the scandals of the day and where did the ladies' maids stop to gossip? Will we ever really know?
Frankly, as I'm sure you can tell, I can't get enough of these little blue round-peaked roofs. Actually, as I look at them now, I'm reminded that the Renaissance Faire is about to begin east of Phoenix. These pictures make me think we should drive over, take in a bit of jousting, then purchase a couple of greasy turkey legs and rip them apart with our teeth.
If memory serves me right, this is one of the only times we saw color remaining inside of a building. We're in the Vaulted Hall of the Castle Keep, which houses a museum containing treasures from the general area.
Carcassonne is elegant in its history. However, even those who live within its walls are subject to the every day duties of life. Rain or shine, Thursday is, apparently, laundry day.
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