Today didn't follow the script I had carefully planned out months ago. We were planning a day ride for the final day of the tour: a loop from Sete to Agde and back, circling the huge Thau Lagoon. Among other things, I wanted to see the eastern terminus of the Canal du Medi, which reaches the sea at Agde. After touching base with it several times during our traverse of Langueduc, I was interested to see where it ends.
Rachael and I were awakened by a tremendous thunder and lightning display sometime between five and six. It was quite dramatic, with prolonged echoes rumbling along the canal; the closest strikes sounding as though they must be almost on the street below us. In its wake it brought a downpour that lasted another half hour, before finally tapering off.
Over breakfast at our hotel, we reviewed the weather forecast - rain off and on all day, finally passing by in late afternoon. The end of the Canal du Midi will have to wait - just one more reason to come back to Langueduc, hopefully sooner than later.
We were awakened this morning by a tremendous electrical storm that crashed its way through town. We both stared in amazement out the balcony door of our room until it moved on inland. Here's Rachael's audio/video of the storm. I prefer still photography, but for some events you really do need the A/V.
We're staying at the Hotel Orque Bleue (the blue orchid), facing the ancient canal in the oldest part of the city. I didn't really look around enough to appreciate it last night, when we arrived late and a bit stressed out. Now that I'm more relaxed and have time to look around, I see that it's a very beautiful hotel - built in the late 1800's, and a former mansion from the looks of it. I'm especially taken by the blend of furnishings, artwork, and use of mirrors.
I left the room early, before breakfast when the hotel was still silent, and took my fill of photographs. Two subjects in particular frustrated me though. I walked up to the top of the beautiful four story staircase to take a photo down from the top. It didn't work well though, because the lights are motion-activated and darken again quickly after about 10 seconds. The only photo I could take was dark in the center, with only the ground and upmost floor illuminated.
The other subject was a circular mirror on one of the landings - I wanted to take a shot of the surrounding artwork reflected in it. The paintings were on the next landing up, and in the dark unless the light on that floor was on. I made four tries at getting the right shot - go up to the previous level to activate the light, and then hustle down to the mirror for my planned shot. I came close - the light would die out just as I was focusing the camera. Quite frustrating. Fortunately, I brought an accomplice with me, and so I enlisted Rachael's input after breakfast.
A well illuminated shot of the stairwell, thanks to Rachael's assistance.
You can thank Rachael for this composition too. Unfortunately I couldn't get myself completely out of the picture - I'm plastered against the wall as it is.
After breakfast we went out during a break in the rain for a wander through the neighborhood; returned to our room when the rains returned; and then went out for a longer look. I must say that both of us ended the day with a pretty sour opinion of Sete, but that says more about us, our state of mind, and the unattractive egress to the city we found. We made a pact last night that when we return to Langueduc, Sete won't find itself on our itinerary.
We were wrong. Sete, at least the historical area around the old port, is beautiful, very colorful and interesting. I'm glad that the rains caused us to stay in town and allow time for a real look at it. I suspect we'll be back, after spending more time researching the best route in. And, I think we'd plan a mutinight stay again - there is a lot we didn't get to here, especially a walk up on the hill, for its famous views across the port, the sea, and the maritime cemetery.
Fishermen can't be deterred by a little foul weather.
There's something different about France. I just don't think you routinely run into people looking like this in our part of the world. Do you suppose she has a different umbrella for each outfit?
The umbrella display on the pedestrianized street before Les Halles is a delight. It is mesmerizing watching them blowing in the wind. I'll paste Rachael's video in here when she uploads it.
This pod of cyclists, soaked to the skin, whizzed by us while we were sheltering from the rain. We're quite happy with our decision to sit this one out and explore the city.
The Sete lighthouse, at the entrance to the old port. We set out to walk to it - it's probably only a half mile from our hotel - but the closer we got, the harder the rain fell. This is close enough.
The Canal Royal, Sete. Just behind me are the queues of huge fishing boats we saw above. This section of the Canal Royal between these two bridges is the venue for one of Sete's premier attractions: water jousting. It's a very old Sete tradition - tournaments have been held here every summer since 1666.
The rest of our day was slow paced, relaxed, enjoyable. After going back to our room to dry out for a second time, we went out again to Les Halles, the main market, for lunch. Then back to the room, to pack away the bicycles. Disassembly went smoothly, other than the mild annoyance of the light situation - I broke them down in the garage, where the lights shut off after roughly two minutes. Complete two minutes of work until the world goes dark again, reactivate the lights; repeat, times thirty.
One thing I appreciated - a chance for redemption for my impatience in our arrival last night. While breaking down the bikes, the same woman enters the garage and struggles mightily to push open the garage door for a car waiting outside. I rush over to lend a hand, and then my back. It's all the two of us can do together to move it far enough for the car, and the back again. The door is huge, weighs a ton, binds against the floor of the garage. She's fairly petite and I'm sure must loath this cursed door. On the way back to the room I pass the desk and she flashes me a warm smile. Beautiful.
We leave the room at about sundown and walk once again to the old port, to a small fish restaurant where we had reserved a table earlier in the day. Unnecessary. There's only one other diner tonight. It's the quiet season. Before and after our meal we enjoy a last look at a city I've quickly come to care for very much. We stare across the sea from the jetty, thrilled by the explosive crashing of breakers against the sea wall and cliffs, throwing plumes thirty feet into the air. We enjoy strolling along the quiet, atmospheric bank of the canal, and admiring various features highlighted in violet. We admire everything, really - I'm really going to miss this place.
I've got an ample workspace for disassembly - a convenient spot, if you don't mind a blackout every two minutes.
The waves are very dramatic along the jetty of the old port. This was a tough combination of subjects for my Panasonic - it did fine focused on the fortress, or on the waves; but resolving the two together was pushing its limits.
