FRENCH VILLAGE LIFE

We Arrived Too Early For The Festival des Vendanges

But this medieval village looks better at night anyway

Église de l’assomption de Notre Dame, Puissalicon, France (all photos by author)

By mid-September, the grapes in the vineyards in this part of southern France are hanging from the vines in heavy purple bunches, or they’ve already been picked — either by hand or by mechanical pickers that strip the fruit from the vine, leaving the skeletal stalks behind.

Harvest time in the Languedoc

It’s the busiest time of year for vignerons and also interesting for those who just enjoy a glass or two of local wine. My partner had marked the Festival des Vendanges in the nearby village of Puissalicon on the calendar and we headed out this morning to check it out.

Metal barriers surrounded the entrance to the village and signs directed us to festival parking — two massive fields that were strangely empty. We parked anyway and walked into the village where tables were being set up, a band was rehearsing and we discovered we’d arrived four hours too early.

Always good to check the time first.

No big deal, we decided to come back later. Meanwhile, we took a stroll around the village. One of the Languedoc winds was blowing — there are three or four of them that blow in from all directions — but gently, not the raging gales we often get in this part of France.

Chateau and pomegranates, Puissalicon

Puissalicon, like most of the villages around us, dates back centuries and while some of the architecture and the grand houses seem incredible to my ex-California sensibilities, none of the villages make the list of Les Plus Beaux Villages de France or are listed in local travel guides.

Gated domaine and unmentionables hung out to dry.

We walked — past the picturesque and less than picturesque — then decided to have lunch at a place we sometimes stop in. Relaxing enough that after the Tortilla des patatas (Spanish omelette) and a couple of glasses of local wine, we decided give the festival a miss and call it a day. The band, still rehearsing, wasn’t exactly my thing anyway.

Maybe next year.

Besides, while Puissalicon is pretty by day, it’s mysterious and enchanting by night. We last visited a couple of years ago, a new restaurant had opened on the village square. The food was unimpressive, but the village under street lamps felt like a walk back in time.

Just one of the many unsung places that make up this part of France.

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