Artistic influences

As we cross the French border, I moan, “Our Spanish break’s over. Let’s blast through France...” But my co-traveller pipes up, “France in April is designed for meandering, so let’s do that instead.”

I’m persuaded as much by the snow-dusted peaks of the Pyrenees, as by my dear one’s logic!

Soon we’re driving by fields of serried vines, the sun coaxing the new leaves to unfurl on their outspread arms. The Judas tree’s magenta blooms glow like virulent candy floss, shouting out that spring has sprung in southwest France.

Stopping for a coffee at an aire on the A9, we step through a portal to medieval Languedoc. We follow a sign for Forteresse de Salses, a Catalan fortress, through purple-flowering thyme, pines and cypress trees to the fort’s soaring brick and limestone walls, battlements and tunnels. You can almost hear the clash of sword on shield as fifteenth century knights guard the erstwhile frontier between Spain and France.

Near Gourdon, the driver ignores my directions and follows the sat-nav, whereby the disembodied woman sends us down a road so narrow that our ’van just about squeezes between a sixteenth century walnut mill and a farmhouse.

Setting out for a walk from our riverside campsite (Camping la Plage), ‘he who should know better’ thinks we’re going to stroll 500m (green oaks circular walk).