To Gruissan

October 27, 2022

We both groaned when we arrived a our hotel yesterday and found it closed and dark, with the sign in the window stating that there was no reception until seven. Seven? We’ve never had a place with that late of an arrival time. We’ve already killed an hour sitting at a canalside cafe, me nursing a small biere pression and Rachael downing as much goop as she can from her massive chestnut and caramel crepe topped with a few m&m’s. Both were surprises, served up by our cheerful but perhaps inexperienced young server who doesn’t look much past fifteen. I thought I’d ordered a larger beverage, Rachael wondered why she got the goop rather than the vanilla scoop she’d been anticipating.

No big deal. It’s still a delight to sit beside the canal on this unseasonably warm afternoon and watch the world go by for an hour until we can take our chances on the hotel and head over at 4:30, a half hour before the arrival time declared on their Booking listing. When we prepare to leave our table Rachael pulls out a ziploc bag and carefully slips in the last half of her crepe that she didn’t really like that much but will save for leftovers. Ever since our first visit to Lagrasse very little of Rachael’s food goes to waste because you just never know.

But we’re not waiting until 7 to get to our room. I’m starting to think we should bag this one and see what else is around but Rachael calls the listed number and the hotel has it covered. They give us the access code for the keypad, and on the counter of the reception desk is an envelope with the key to our room and an information sheet, thoughtfully printed in english.

Now that we’re in, we find that we like Hotel de France quite a bit. A vintage place that looks like it’s being renovated, it works well for us - economical, excellent location, comfortable room, good WiFi, space for the bikes. We’d definitely stay there again on our next time through. But we’re taking a pass on the their allegedly modest breakfast this morning and walk over to the public market for some excellent pastries, a quiche, and a quartet of cafe au laits. A good breakfast, an enjoyable experience, and a start to the day we’ll plan on repeating in the weeks ahead.

When we leave the hotel and bike north along the canal an hour later it’s slow going for several blocks because the Thursday market is on and both banks are jammed with pop-up booths and white vans. Streets are crowded with the market crowd, buskers are out. It’s a lively, appealing scene to leave town on. Narbonne is a place that definitely sings for us, and we’re wondering this morning why we’re leaving after only a single night. We’ll be back, I feel confident.

Leaving Narbonne from the north end, along the edge of the Robine Canal.

There are about half a dozen canal crossings in central Narbonne, stitching the two halves of the city together. A few like this one are pedestrian only - colorful and scenic, but not the easiest on a bike.

And then - what? Wait just a second, I’ve got an incoming message on the other line.

Sorry folks - I’ve just been informed that I’ve nearly used up my word budget for this post and need to wrap it up. Should have planned better. Embarrassing, but TTFN.