The Bridge over the River Vidourle at Sommieres. Something is going to happen!
The crowd is becoming impatient. But I am sure it will be worth the wait.
Here they are. The smelliest medieval sheep you'll ever see The faces of some of the onlookers say it all!
Just a quick note to say that I am back in France after a week in England, and so very very glad to be home again. Admittedly the autumnal colours were beautiful when I managed to grab the odd gap between rather grey wet afternoons, and it didn't help that the security lady at Luton insisted on taking away two tins of baked beans and a bottle of marmite which were clearly part of a cunning recipe to bring down the aircraft.
The weather here is still mild and the vines have gone from a lush green to a mix of deep burgundy and gold. After a few days of good rain, the garden has softened enough to receive about five hundred hyacinth bulbs which we turned up earlier, and the show in Spring should be quite something.
We nipped up to Sommieres on Sunday under the impression that they were holding a Medieval Fair. Clearly something was going on because usually the market is held on a Saturday, but this time, there were new stalls laden with everything from rows of crispy almond filled sacristans(and you all know how I feel about them), huge loaves of country bread, olives of every hue and flavour, herbs and lavender products, pottery, clothing and endless cheeses and wines.
We realised that whatever action was to take place would be on the bridge that crosses the Vidourle River at the entrance to the old walled town, and we stood around with the gathering crowds, expecting at any moment to be entertained with a cavalcade of minstrels, damsels, knights in armour and an assortment of kings and queens. What did we get? Sheep. Yes, you read right - sheep. Terribly smelly idiotic confused sheep with half a dozen goats chucked in for good measure (and added smell).
There seems to be some sort of ancient custom which says that on one day of the year, a flock of sheep can be driven through the streets of Sommieres, and within half an hour, all the fragrant aromas of freshly baked bread and roasting chickens were overwhelmed with the stench of ripe sheep manure.
Fortunately they left almost as soon as they arrived, having deposited their calling cards throughout the market streets, and we continued trawling the stalls while sidestepping the chocolate drops.
So what was the medieval bit we wondered. Pausing to re-read the sign which we had only read at high speed from a moving vehicle, we realised that what it said was "Market of local produce to be held in the Medieval City of Sommieres". Then again, there was no mention of the sheep but I will enquire as so why we had to put up with the stink and get back to you!
PS I discovered that this is the tradition of "Transhumance" when the sheep are moved from the high grazing lands down to the warmer climes for the winter months. A very smelly tradition is all I can say!
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