Hiking to the Abbey
October 19th, 2010 · 1 Comment · Posted in Travel
It was a much longer hike than Bob let on
Our destination was the Benedictine abbey at St. Martin-du-Canigou, about an hour from Perpignan in the Pyrenees, but a curious thing happened when we stopped in the nearby town of Vernet les Bains to try and mail some post cards. The post office was closed, naturally. But we literally walked into an old friend of Bob’s, Nicole, a retired English teacher who was taking a three-week cure there. It didn’t take her two seconds to decide to join us.
Unless you hire a four-wheel-drive vehicle, access to the abbey is by foot along a paved path up a steep grade to 3,500-foot elevation. The hour-long hike winds through forested hillsides with stunning views into surrounding valleys takes. About midway, my wife developed a huge blister on one heel owing to the flimsy socks she was wearing. We were all grateful to finally arrive at the top.
The Romanesque chapel approaching sunset
Built in the 11th century, the abbey compound fell into severe neglect in the 19th century. Few of the original buildings survived intact. Our friend Eric and his wife Mary years ago lived and worked here with a single monk. A larger contingent from the Community of the Beatitudes now makes this their home.
You can walk farther up a nearby hill for a dramatic view of the compound. No one in our crew seemed so inspired.
A steep cliff at one side of the abbey
The abbey was already closed to tourists for the day by the time we got to the top, but on the door to the church we noticed a sign inviting visitors for mass at 6 pm. We waited a short while and at the appointed hour, we rang a bell and a woman attendant opened the door and showed us into the chapel. Bob insisted we would only stay a few minutes–until we saw the door being locked behind us.
No worry. The mass was a meditative moment for us. We watched white-robed monks and nuns file in. A Scottish priest, speaking in French, presided. The singing and chanting in the ancient stone chapel was thrilling to hear.
Afterwards, a young nun showed us the way out and asked where we were from. She wore a big smile and traded humorous banter with us. Nothing stodgy about this abbey, apparently.
Blood sausage and potatoes for dinner
The hike down the hill went a bit quicker. After dropping Nicole off at her apartment in Vernet, we raced home and got to a “Super U” for groceries minutes before it closed. We found dinner at the huge charcuterie display–an unimaginable selection of pates and sausages and cheeses. The clerk in his white jacket was eager to practice his English. We came away with two huge blood sausages–one each for Bob and myself–and one boudin blanc for my wife.
I fried potatoes in duck fat. Bob sauteed the sausages. Crack open a bottle of local red and call it dinner, and another fine day in the Pyrenees.
What a spectacular location! I’m gong to put that on my ‘places to visit’ list.
The boudin noir looks yum!
Celia