The biggest brick outhouse

This photo will not win the best pic of 2010 award (too pretentious or dramatic?) but for us it conjures up some back stories and is of interest on several counts.

Firstly, the lone ranger quite dwarfed by the huge cathedral is Helen, wandering along waiting for me and probably musing over some obscure corner of French vocab or grammar discussed not long previously during our immersion French course at Villefranche-sur-mer.

Second it recalls elements of the rich and sometimes bloody history of this area in the south-west of France. We are in the regional town of Albi in the departement of Tarn which, like many other administrative zones renamed after the Revolution to break down fierce regional loyalties and friction, is named after the main river of the area, in this case half an hour north-east of the major city of Toulouse.

Of particular interest here is the juxtaposition of relics from two different periods and styles, early Roman and Mediaeval romanesque.

• The finely elegant stone arch framing the large cathedral, probably built about 2000 years ago, is Roman. These few remaining spans are all that is left of what is thought to be a temple on the banks of the lovely Tarn flowing quietly in the small green valley behind the camera.

• The cathedral of Albi, then. It's simply yooje, and actually made of brick, the largest such structure in Europe or perhaps the universe or something. That does not make it any more beautiful, unfortunately, as its size and solidity, when it was built in the 13th century, were intended to emphasise the message not to mess with the church after it put down with astonishing cruelty a heresy since known as the Albigensians. In contrast, the interior is more gracious and beautifully decorated. The ceiling was completed by imported Italian painters in 1513 and remains untouched and beautiful to this day.
  

I admit I am more captivated by the cleaner lines of the Église des Jacobins in Toulouse, featured in an earlier post on Trees here and there - now 18 months ago I realise.

And thirdly, there's the bricks themselves, narrow and elongated, in rich ochres and reds and peculiar to the Toulouse region (though the Zürich contingent may well have seen similar in other places like Italy).

These bricks add a certain charm and warmth to the smaller dwellings and other buildings that cluster around Big Brother, for which no such improvement can be detected. This photo is taken from an alley near the Toulouse-Lautrec Museum, housed in the Bishop's fortress-like palace which like the cathedral radiates power and almost menace.

The good bish, it seems, was not on the best of terms with the burghers of Albi whose lips were no doubt still slightly pursed after the fatal 'supression' of many Cathars, including women and children. His architect's brief seems to have chosen self-defence over inspirational qualities. The T-L museum contents, however, are wonderful.

Of course the flat bricks are widely evident in Toulouse itself, like these in this seriously old house in the back-streets of the city. We chose not to stand under it for too long.


But after all that, it was delightful to leave the busy bricks behind and retire to a drink and dinner at our friends' chateau in a nearby village of Cestayrols.