We Went Down to the Sea

Palm Sunday, April 13

We had decided to visit the Mediterranean coastline today, but first we set out for the town and the church. We thought 10am might be a good time to see if there would be a Palm Sunday procession. We were walking up the street to the church when the bells started ringing. We noticed that there were a couple of women walking behind us who were quite purposeful in their strides and who were each carrying a handful of branches--not palms, but branches of some sort. (I finally figured out that the people were carrying olive branches. Per our Google search about this, we learned people in non-palm areas use whatever might be local, and that it is called Branch Sunday in many places.)

More and more people arrived, all carrying branches. Eventually, we had quite a crowd. There was a service being held inside the church, but the doors were open. About 10:20am, someone came out and erected a microphone and set up a table with a bowl of water and a branch stretched across the bowl. At 10:30am, the priest and his Bible-carrying acolyte came out to the steps. A couple of women said some words, with mentions of "le semaine sombre" (somber week) and "le passion et la croix" (the passion and the cross). One woman led the crowd in the singing of Hosannas while they raised their branches. Eventually, the priest read some text and said some words and raised a branch, which the crowd then did too. After about 15-20 minutes, the crowd processed into the church, many of them dipping their branches into the vessel of water as they went.

We were glad that we'd decided to go to the church. It was very interesting to see the French--or at least, Pezenas--version of our Palm Sunday tradition. I was only able to catch bits and pieces of the French spoken, but fortunately we know the story, so were able to follow along and understand generally what we were seeing.

Still taking guidance from our reading of Virgile's Vineyard, we drove south to visit several spots in the coastal portion of this area. Our first point of interest was the small town of Pinet, where we hoped to taste Picpoul de Pinet, a crisp white wine of the area. Alas, we were foiled again. The Pinet cooperative was not open yet in April. (As is quite standard in the Languedoc, the farmers belong to a cooperative, which actually makes the wine. The farmers bring their production of grapes, but the coop owns all the equipment and storage facilities for the wine. The coop makes the wine--blended from all the producers of the appellation--and markets and sells it too. The farmers are just that--farmers of grapes. There are more and more growers who are choosing to follow the model of being their own winemakers. They can bring their own taste and sensibility to the wines. They can choose what to grow and blend, though there are still rules about what they're allowed to call the wines given the grapes and combinations chosen. Until more recently, this has been a pretty daring choice. It is thumbing one's nose at tradition--and France is big on tradition.)

Our next stop was Marseillan, a port town on the Bassin de Thau, which is a large lagoon separated from the Mediterranean by a very narrow strip of land. The Bassin is known for its oyster aquaculture and has what must be acres of platforms from which the seedlings are suspended. We wanted to visit the tasting room of Noilly Prat, the famous maker of vermouth. Yet again, we were thwarted in our efforts--this time because it was a Sunday in April.

Marseillan turned out to be a very attractive little port, with sailboats and motorcraft and quayside benches and cafés. We chose a little cafe and, in defiance of our morning's tasting defeats, we had an aperitif of Noilly Prat Ambre (something we've never seen stateside) and a demi-pichet (or half liter) of Picpoul de Pinet with our lunch.

After lunch, we strolled around the quay, enjoying the fabulous weather we're having. We then took a loop drive around the Bassin to Sete, a large, super-touristy town. From here, you can take ferries to Morocco, Ibiza, and a number of other exotic-sounding ports. Being a beautiful Sunday, everybody and their brothers were out and about on the streets of Sete. We drove the scenic corniche out of town and down the long strip of barrier land between the Mediterranean Sea and the large Bassin. There were myriad beaches, with huge parking lots, and many of them very full. With temps in the upper 80's, everyone wanted to be on the beach or overlooking the sea.

It is quite incredible--and enjoyable--to have such pretty weather. We've had to keep pinching ourselves that it can be so warm and balmy in mid-April. Everything here is in bloom and full leaf. There are lilacs, and iris, and lots of lush stands of wisteria. We have been eating both lunch and dinner outside, taking afternoon naps in the sun (well, once anyway). Quite blissful. We've got lush green hills, beautiful blooming flowers and trees, charming, historic towns, the sea and vineyards. Remind us why this is somewhere we're just visiting for a short while?


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