Thursday 1st - Saturday 3rd January

Friday was a busy and successful day. I drove up high above Fauzan and followed a walking trail, which passed two dolmen. The views were stunning but the dolmen lacked their usual force. I guess I walked for a couple of kilometres and took it all in. Then I drove over to Siran for lunch at the bar: chef's salad, followed by squid in tomato sauce w/ fries. The whole accompanied by crusty bread and a half pitcher of local red. Simple, delicious and cheap.

After lunch I drove west for fifteen minutes to get above Fèlines and search for a trail that would take me into an area called Jappeloup in which there is an allée couverte. I kind of expected that the green area of roughly a square mile or so would equate to forest but in the end it didn't. I must have attempted to find the trail four or five times over the course of an hour. Each time I ran into the obstacle of thick scrubland with rocky gullies or else large hillocks with dense vegetation. Even the detailed maps I had with me seemed deceptive. Eventually, at the bottom of an area two vineyards deep and, having walked to the lower corner I caught sight of a track the width of a human body disappearing up a hill into the undergrowth. I followed it. Turning around to my right I reached the crest of a hill after walking some distance, at which point a large dry stone wall was at my right and running down into a large expanse of scrubland.

After I had followed the trail next to the wall for perhaps a kilometre I studied the map again and recognised where I was. I could see the wall featured on the map and I was 500 metres due east of where I had intended. I doubled back up the hill and around over the top through more vegetation and then down into a gully on the other side, following a walking trail. At the foot of the gully the trail expanded to a car's width. Indeed, it was clear that four wheel drive vehicles, hunters most likely, did occasionally come this way. At the top of the rise the trail snake first left then right to the peak of another hill. From here the view opened up and I knew I had found my way in to Jappeloup. Falling away beneath my gaze were three large mounds: the first, directly in front of me with the track driving straight through and over it; the second beyond; and the third and smallest, somewhat to the left of that as I faced due south. Somewhere around here was the allée couverte and the most obvious spot was atop one or other of these mounds.

I cannot adequately convey how uneasy this landscape made me feel. It wasn't just the silence, that's two a penny around here. This ancient landscape showed no sign of ever having been under cultivation. It's randomly rocky and littered with the hard ivory-coloured, tortured limbs of dead and broken trees, nothing over two or three metres in height. They seemed to crowd around the hills. I walked down the track descending perhaps 70 metres before it rose again to the summit of the first mound. Looking around me for the sign of dolmen I noticed here that there were the loose arrangements of large stones that might once have been a dolmen. The track had been driven right through this place obliterating what once might have been here. The telltale sign was the low and broken line of a dolmen jawbone. It might have been anyway.

Below this hill I could clearly see the other two and the dead white branches of trees like a crown of thorns around the summit. A path struck off at a right angle to my left and towards the smallest mound beyond, whilst the main trail continued towards the next mound. I followed it. As I reached the foot of the next mound another trail struck off to the left, I pressed on up the hill. Still no sign of my objective. This mound was much like the last but without any obvious trace of any stone that might have once formed a monument. From here I could see that I was now in the middle of Jappeloup and down the hill and in the distance I could see a small farm and beyond that the looming outline of the Chateau Paulignat. To my right was the old windmill near Fèlines-Minervois.

I backtracked and took the small path, now on my left. This lead through knee-high brush, including sage and thyme before swinging around to the right and up the smallest of the three mounds. Reaching the top I saw the dolmen. Once again, arranged with the head to the north and the feet to the south all the familiar characteristics were here: a beautiful view, some height, isolation and the distinctly eerie atmosphere of Jappeloup. I didn't want to hang around. I took a half dozen more photographs before returning up the track. Walking out wasn't nearly as hard as walking in but all the same, I was unable to retrace my steps. Eventually I emerged at a different point along the same small stretch of road and had to walk for a while to find where I had left the car.

That evening, I spent a couple of hours processing the day's photographs at le Cave Bas. I guess I had about sixty to resize, filter and/or crop. Later on I tried to upload them and found the folder in which I had placed them utterly empty. I'd somehow lost the lot.

On Saturday morning I woke early and decided to go back to Jappeloup and try to recapture what I'd lost. The previous day's photos had been taken in the afternoon on a sunny winter's day. But now, having risen very early I went outside to discover a thick fog hanging over everything. "Ok, it'll be different alright but there'll still be some great pictures", I thought. This time I started at the windmill about 9:00 am before swinging around back up the hills to the west of Fèlines. By God it was foggy and although I was sure I had a clear idea of where I emerged from yesterday I simply couldn't be sure of the path back in. Every attempt ended with me facing a wall of scrub or an unassailable gully. The mist was wet on my face and clothes and to complicate matters the hunters were out in force, it being a Saturday. I could hear dogs and the occasional gunshot around me. The first time I tried to rediscover the path I found myself at the bottom of a large and muddy field looking down into a steep gully. It was here that I distinctly heard the snorting of a wild boar somewhere below me. If yesterday's visit made me feel uneasy, today's filled me with an almost nameless dread. Jappeloup under fog was extremely spooky in a way that both attracted me to it and repelled me from it simultaneously.

I tried four times that morning to find my way back into Jappeloup but I simply couldn't. It was probably for the best, I decided as the sound of baying hounds and gunshots from below me made any descent unwise even if I had found a way. As I emerged from one of the lower fields above the scrubland I saw a hunter sporting a fluorescent orange coat. He was sure as hell visible as was the shotgun slung over his shoulder and his truck parked nearby. He seemed to be posted here in case the quarry came this way. Happily he was dog less. At this point I realised I was wearing a Police Nationale overcoat complete with badge and I would have to walk past him. He would see me. He did spot me as I walked towards the dirt track and started to come towards me. I have no idea whether he thought I might be a cop out checking hunting licences or what but I had to tell him I was just a tourist a and not a cop before going about my business. I found the car and drove back to Cesseras for lunch with barry and Jennifer. I was cooking. Penne with shredded brussel sprouts and crispy fried smoke pork strips in cream sauce.

After lunch the fog had miraculously burned away and once again the afternoon was clear and bright. The hell with it, I headed back to Jappeloup for one more try. This time, after three attempts I found a way in and repeated my journey of the day before. It was only when I came out an hour and a half later that I realised how close I had been that morning. There was a track I had missed in the fog which would have taken me right to the start of the trail.