Photos of L'Abbaye Fontfroide

Autumn countryside near the abbey

It is a beautiful Saturday.  I completely crashed when I got home last night from our outing into the Aude.  I woke up sometime around 2:00 A.M. and realized that I had missed the concert. Oh well, I can't do it all.

So many different shades of green

I have been out to the market and got my morning paper.  There is a big article about the bust across the street.  Apparently the police had been watching this man for some time, because he was the suspect in a burglary that happened in early June.

Bob and Chris, my Australian neighbors, DID go to the concert last night and apparently there was dancing.  I am so disappointed to have missed it, but I just couldn't have done one more thing yesterday.  I needed to give them my share of the gas money so I knocked on their door on my way back from the market--10:30 or so, and they were still abed. I felt bad for having awakened them, but when Chris told me about dancing the night away, my sympathy nearly evaporated. Actually, I am glad for them.  

Jealous, but glad.

Notice the cross atop the limestone hill.

As promised, I have some photos from yesterday.  I have done some chores, and I am planning to sit in the windowsill and work for the rest of the day.  The radio has been playing old Francoise Hardy recordings--I still have her album, from way back in the 60's.  God, I can't remember where I put the keys, but those old French lyrics are still firmly embedded. 

Approaching the entrance to the abbey complex

As I mentioned yesterday, I have never seen a landscape quite like this one.  Along the drive out of Carcassonne, we passed many crumbling ruins of old Cathar castles.  It seemed that wherever there was a high spot, there was a ruin or a castle. It's drier over toward Narbonne, which is near the Mediterranean.  Limestone outcroppings and scrubby vegetation--I can think of no other way to describe it. And the shades of green there are a greyer green than what I am used to on the rainy Oregon coast.

My first olive grove.  My heart went "thunk" in recognition.  NO idea why.

A missing arch.  There is water here in the winter.

The abbayes, however, or at least the ones we visited yesterday were in valleys.  I am guessing that's because there was a water source there.  But not all year round, apparently, judging from the dry waterways at the abbaye. 

Abbaye Fontfroide (Cold Fountain) was one of the richest abbeys, at least until the French laws put an end to monastic life in the early 1900's. Apparently the Cistercians weren't as dedicated to poverty as were the Franciscans or the Dominicans.  I am ashamed to be so ignorant about this subject.  I don't know the difference, don't know the history, the timeline.

Lions guard the main gate.  Can't you see people along the pathway to the left?

 The restoration of the buildings and grounds has probably made it nicer now than it ever was at any given point in its history.  I can see a certain appeal to that kind of life. But I don't have that kind of discipline, especially when it comes to silence.  Or getting up in the dark. 

Never let it be said that the French ignored any esthetic detail.

 These are the urns which house the lights that shine upwards along the walls of the abbaye.

The tour of the Abbaye begins with a walk along the kitchen herb garden.  I SO want this...these beautiful raised beds.  Not a weed in sight. I didn't recognize many of the herbs, or even the herb families.  So many things on this experience have served as jarring witness to what I do not know.  I should be ashamed.

The raised bed herb gardens.  I SO want one of these.

No matter, I loved it in spite of my profound ignorance.  Maybe some of the herbs were medicinal, as there were plenty that I did not recognize as anything I have ever used in cooking.

Everything is beautifully maintained.

I had no idea what many of the herbs were.

They then take you into the main gate...I was taken with the doorbell. I didn't get a good photo of it, but put the two I did get together and you get the idea about the ringing the bell.

 

The chain to the bell leads......

.....to here.  I like the idea of the bell as opposed to the button.

The guide talked to us about Frere Jacques....and the dormitories and burning the candle to tell the monk when to ring the bell for matins....and also told us that this entire abbey now is in the 4th generation of the same family. Can you imagine owing such a property? All the work?

We climbed these steps to get to the upper dormitory.

One of the gazillion corridors. I just like this photo, with its promise maybe of light along my pathway.

 

 

 I was completely fascinated with the door hardware.  It has to serve a function, but there is no law against it being beautiful as well.  In fact, the French insist upon beauty.  One of the worst insults a French person can utter is to call someone "ugly."

When someone locks you behind this latch, you stay locked in.

I think this led to someone's cell.

 I was struck, once again, by the scale.  The doorways are either huge or if they are "normal" sized, I would have to duck to enter.  People were so very much smaller then, and many of the French still are today.

The ironwork holds the boards together, but are beautiful at the same time.

There were iron grilles and grates at nearly every turn. Maybe there are even now, secret passageways in the complex.

One of the side "nook" windows

Frere Jacques, dormez-vous?

They no longer hold services in the church, but the Abbaye does have concerts and lectures and conferences.  Most of the happenings occur in the summer, naturally, when tourist season is in high gear.

A very modern looking stained glass window.

But the stained glass was interesting; the biggest window looked surprisingly modern and incorporates some ideas of the astrological calendar (is that the correct term?) as well.  That seems borderline heretical, and I can't believe the Cistercians allowed it.  I noticed that one of the windows had been removed for repair.  I had a little trouble getting my camera to get good photos inside, but I think I finally got a few passable shots. I never claimed to be a photographer.

There are indeed a number of spots around the monastery for meditation. The entire place invites you to sit and bask in the peace and beauty.  I don't know if it gets terribly crowded in the summer; I suspect it might, but it felt spacious and serene in early November.

Everything in the "Garden of Eden" was green and healthy.

In the center of the garden

It was a riot of arches and circles.  There were few hard edges and many of those were softened by plants. 

Wisteria?

I had forgotten how much I love wisteria.  Can you imagine this when the blooms are hanging fragrant?  How can I not be here to see that?

Pattern in the stonework.

This wall stopped both Chris and me in our tracks.  Those stones didn't fall naturally into that pattern; a human hand did this.  Who were these people?

Modern commerce

I am told by people who know about such things that the wine of this region is quite good.  My palate, unfortunately, is not that discerning, although I did like the local rose we had at lunch.  Besides tourism, there has to be a way to raise funds to sustain and maintain all this loveliness.  And thank goodness, someone is in charge of doing just that.