Carcassonne Cite--Tourist Trap or History Buff's Holy Grail?

I walked up the hill to the Cite today.  It's a great workout; all uphill but not terribly steep, just enough to get the heart rate up. Today was the second day of the big festival and I wanted to see what was going on before the rains came again. It poured this morning around 7:30. 

You can't really see the fortress until you are almost upon it.  It's hidden by high walls of stone or earth.  So when it appeared, it did take my breath away. I was impressed by its size.  It's much bigger up close. I know there are technical terms for each one of its various architectural features.  Some people make a lifetime's study of them.  I am not one of those people. What I keep thinking about is the time frame during which  this was built and the tools and equipment, or lack thereof, used to build it. No backhoes, no cranes, no bulldozers.  Just shovels and pickaxes and buckets.  And lots of cheap labor.  We think, especially in the United States, that we are so smart and advanced.  In some ways we are, but I would be hard pressed to find anyone with the skill set to manually put up even a ten foot section of this wall.  At least a ten foot section that wouldn't collapse.

 I suspect they would not have set up tents here in the day--this was the moat..  There were so many people in costumes. It takes a lot of people to mount one of these festivals. I can't speak to the authenticity of the dress.   Even some of the tourists got into the spirit of the day and were sporting chain mail and crusader crosses.

 If you have a sword, you have to also carry a shield.  It looks like a beheading is about to occur, but I think no blood was shed.

With so many people, tents and booths spread out to manage the crowding.  Smart.

 Outside the main walls, before going over the drawbridge across the moat, there was a display of fighting.  The guys were in battle dress, with so much padding and then chain mail and steel helmets. God, how much must that all weigh?  They couldn't get dressed by themselves; they had to have help. I supposed that's what the knight's pages were for.  I also know that there's an entire lexicon for the pieces of armor and clothing; again, I don't care enough to learn and commit all that to memory.  The knights were fighting for a rather large trophy, actually.  This was more than a mere demonstration.

The bug guy in the white tunic was the referee.  The knight had interesting gloves.

Green tunic was waiting for the guy with the black headgear to get dressed.  They were the finalists.

All this metal protection is needed.  These guys mean business.

Hello sailor!  Er soldier....

Almost finished dressing

It took several guys to get his gloves on and to get his chain mail placed just so over all the padding he had.  This is no touch football game; these guys are swinging big, heavy, sharp swords around.  It's loud and for me, vaguely disconcerting.

And we agree to be chivalrous, but I am going to beat you senselesss.

The guy on the left scored a quick point.

The rules must be something like epee fencing rules.  There are judges watching to see if someone actually gets a hit.  You can bang the other guy on the head.  Even inside these steel helmets, that's got to hurt.

They started out slowly, but then really went after each other.

I think he lost.

 

 

I think this guy lost, because even though he was stronger, green tunic was quicker and more aggressive.

Two of the judges

 

 

 

Whenever one of the swordsmen would score a hit on the other's body, these judges would call the point, and the fighters would start over again.

I gathered my wits about me and crossed the drawbridge and entered the city.  The streets are narrow, cobbled passageways. Packed with people, it was sometimes difficult to get through, although it was worse when I left, around 2:45, than it was when I arrived.  Sometime soon, before the weather gets bad, I will go back and simply wander the alleys when the crowds of the festival have dispersed.  I found myself thinking about how safe the people who lived here must have felt.  And there were people who probably never set foot outside the walls of this city during their entire lives.  What must it have been like-- no electricity, animals everywhere, no running water?  We romanticize those days, but I will bet they weren't all THAT wonderful. 

The drawbridge chain.  Carcassonne basse ville (lower city) in the distance.

 

 

 

Somehow, I think there was one of those metal gates with the spikes that dropped down here.

 

A Medieval pickup truck.

I went to visit the chateau but couldn't buy a ticket because I had only a 50 Euro bill and they didn't take bills that large.  No matter, there will be other opportunities to see inside there.  I did see their nice little raised bed kitchen garden.  Well tended, but really, how many people could it feed?

Entrance to the chateau,

Not a weed in sight.

I was also fascinated by those vertical slit windows in the castle walls.  They taper to a narrow opening, I suppose, so a bowman could stand and have room to move a little as he shot his arrows through the slit. Pretty ingenious. 

Hard, unyielding and unforgiving stone-good protection.

Can you see the taper?  Enough for my shoulders to fit. Probably enough for two of those little Languedoc archers.

Yes the place was crowded.  I knew it would be. I decided to have lunch and chose one of the places that was more open and airier than some of the restaurants closer to the center square.  Had carpaccio de boeuf, and a couple of frites.  The beef was wonderful. For the uninitiated, it's raw beef sliced thinly enough to read through it, drizzled with olive oil and lemon juice and garnished with what I think was either Pecorino or maybe Parmesan cheese.  There were people with their dogs and a couple of cats who wandered in amongst our feet. I read the paper and generally had a relaxing afternoon.  I know I should be hungry for dinner, but I am not in the least.

This was taken near one of the squares.  It's a way to remind myself that people once did live inside these walls.  A few, a very few-- still do.  I think there are fewer than 250 residents altogether. Everyone else who works in one of the shops commutes here from the lower city.

Shoppers and eaters as far as the eye could see.  It got more crowded as the day wore on.  Much of the merchandise the stores were selling--I have seen for sale for less down here where I live.  And there were the expected medieval action figures, and plastic swords (and some metal ones, too) and helmets and shields.  

The Cite must bring in tremendous tourist dollars, and that's not to be sneezed at. Or sneered at.   But I think I will like it better when I can go there and really explore.  I want to walk the ramparts and look over the broad plain to the foothills. (I actually got to see some of that today, when the cloud cover lifted long enough to see into the distance.)

There is an issue with pigeons, and their "contribution" shall we say.  Every once in a while, they fire off a noise that sounds like a cannon and the pigeons scatter. But then they return.  Carcassonne was never defeated by the invaders from the north of France, but I think the pigeons are winning this battle.