La Sanch Procession in Collioure

Good Friday

Collioure is very close to the Spanish border and I travelled up from Roses. The La Sanch procession is at 9.00 pm in Collioure (11.00 am the same morning in Perpignan) so it suited me very well, if I could find a way of not having to drive in France and if I could get back the same night for work the following morning. The trains don’t cross the Spanish-French border after 7.00 or 8.00 pm at night. So I drove the desolate coastal road just over the border to Cerbère and took a 10 minute train ride. I got there a couple of hours early, had a coffee, bought a bottle of Languedoc wine to bring home, wandered the streets and pottered around on the beach, then parked myself under a doorway in possibly the worst viewing spot in town, just to stay out of the rain.

I was chatting in bad French to a Frenchwoman and her grandchild and she told me the procession changed route every year and no one knew until it appeared which way it was going. We were close to the church on the pier and there were two walls of people bordering the obvious seafront route, more at the other side of the church door in case they bolted out the back. They weren’t coming our way anyway. But after a chat with a tradesman up the road she said they were, and they did, and I was so shocked to have an uninterrupted frontline view I pressed all the wrong buttons on the camera. The photos are terrible, one so bad it is almost good. Here it is:

Blood Brothers

The brotherhood of La Sanch (the Blood) dates to the early 15th century, when it was founded in Perpignan by the influential preacher Vincent Ferrer, a friend and supporter of anti-Pope Benedict XIII, who was residing in Perpignan, the new 'Vatican', after being driven out of Avignon. The early purpose of the brotherhood was to assist and accompany condemned prisoners to their execution. Vincent had had an epiphany after an illness in 1398 and saw himself as a messenger of penance, sent to prepare mankind for imminent judgment. He  subsequently travelled around Europe for 20 years, attracting thousands of followers, many from the criminal classes, and the pointed red and black hoods worn by the intinerant sinners were intended to protect them from being recognised and lynched.

The procession today commemorates the Passion and Agony of Christ and marks the start of the Holy Week ceremonies. The lead penitent, le regidor, is dressed in scarlet and rings a bell to warn of the approach of the black-robed penitents on their way to the gallows. Behind him the penitents carry statues, crucifixes and banners representing the scenes of the passion. In Collioure a pious narrative was relayed by low-volume loudspeakers mounted at second-storey level on every street, but the procession itself is silent, except for the bell. Once it has passed, what many people seemed to be doing, and moi aussi, was cutting across town to a new viewing spot to get a second look. Alas, my photos never got any better, most being of the back of the head of the person in front of me. In my frenetic need to come out of it with something I missed much of the spiritual reward and I vowed to go back again with my hands in my pockets.

Having expected something between a Hallowe’en performance and a Ku Klux Klan outing (sorry, but I couldn’t dismiss the images in my head, all the more having read of the infamous and ubiquitous Abbé Saunière’s supposed links with the brotherhood), I was surprised at the simple piety of the commentary overhead and the respectful, intimate and non-threatening atmosphere of the event. There was no background racket, no sniggers from the crowd, no pushing to get a better view. Being from Ireland, I had been surprised to see so many shops open on Good Friday, including craft shops, eateries and cafes. But they all had pretty displays with flowers, candles and statues, and everything closed just before 9.00 pm. For the record, the procession is not organised by the Church, although it includes members of the clergy, but by the “brotherhood of the very precious blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ, La Sanch.”

Cost

I was the only person at the station and wondered what I would do if the train didn’t come. There wasn’t a room or a bed to be had anywhere. When it did arrive it showed no signs of stopping and I ran and ran and ran uselessly as it glided by until I ran out of breath and platform. But the platform hadn’t run out of train yet and eventually it stopped. It must have been a mile long. There were about 3 passengers aboard as well as myself but the train was merely going to bed down in Cerbère in preparation for a busy weekend. I was home by midnight. The total cost of this stimulating and should-have-been spiritual outing was around €12, including petrol, return trainfare and coffee (didn’t count the wine).

Carcassonne to Girona

OK – here’s a little gem!

RyanAir starts up its flights to Carcassonne from Cork now at the end of March, so if you are flying from Ireland, this one is for summer, but that’s a better time to do it anyway. Mostly it depends on whether you want to include the dip in the sea, and what flight deals are on offer. See if you can set this up with a 1 Euro one way ticket, flying back from Girona. It’s a two or three-nighter, depending on how low you want to limbo-dance the costs. You won’t need a car – you’ll be travelling mostly by train, and to get into the spirit if it, you will be leaving your car at home if possible and booking a return Bus Eireann ticket to the airport (all connections, even if it is 3 different buses) online, ie you get discount for booking the whole thing together and you get the discount for booking online. It is just so much easier – and cheaper – than airport driving and parking. But however you plan it, the flight is going to be the cheapest part of it – thank you thank you thank you Michael.

Carcassonne
Look it up, if you haven’t heard all about it. This is the ultimate postcard medieval town, sitting high, high above the surrounding plain. It is all cobbles and high artsy renovations and the north east polar wind will freeze the ankles off you if you get it on a bad day. But you are not going to fly into this town and not visit it, so click on this link for all the public transport information you will need for getting around: airport to town, to medieval town to railway station etc. Go to Practical Information, then Transport.
When you are done, down you go to the railway station and get a ticket for Narbonne and/ or to any further train stop down in the direction of Barcelona, depending on how long you have got and how deep your pockets.

Narbonne

After all the traipsing around on cobbled stones you might want to spend the night in Narbonne, and have a look at its gigantic cream stone pile of a Cathedral or settle into a bottle or two of Narbo 118 (Narbonne was founded in 118 BC), the wine grown by the local agricultural organization and aged for 17 months in the town’s Roman cellars, where you can sample it. The municipality gives 100% of the profits to water projects in Burkina Faso. There is something warm and embracing, as opposed to damp and gloomy, about this ancient sidelined metropolis, with its tree-lined canal. And it is at the centre of three classified wine areas, so you can move on from the Narbo 118 to sample a few more and maybe put a bottle or two in your bag, now that you are off the flight and no longer weight restricted.

I haven’t stayed at this place, and don’t know the first thing about it, but I like the review for Bruno’s place, which you can read below. This is just to get you started looking, remembering that, since you are on foot, you will need to stay in town:
 Perpignan, Argèles-sur-Mer, Collioure, Cerbère

Perpignan could be your next train stop (or indeed your starting point if you fly in there instead of Carcassonne). Or you could pass on to the tiny but perfectly formed Collioure. In fact Collioure might be better, because it is right on the sea and you may already be thinking of jumping in. Personally I wouldn’t, because it is the Mediterranean, not a thermal bath, but I wouldn’t deprive you of the suggestion. This is where you pick an overpriced little café for your mocca, so you can watch the tiny but perfectly formed French riches et chics d’un certain age stroll by with their little yapping dogs. It is a buzzing place, and you can snap snap away with your digital camera (and then blog blog away when you get home). Or you could hop out at Argèles-sur-Mer, a big wide sweep of a sandy place, for the swim. The thing is never to get too far from your home on the train.

Spain
The train journey is getting cheaper (only about €20 so far, or maybe even less, and that is the French part). If you set out early enough from Narbonne, you could have dealt with the hangover in Collioure and be in Spain by lunchtime, with or without the swim. When the cold wind blows down the Languedoc, Spain is nearly always warmer. This train journey is chug-along easy and hugs the very pretty coast a lot of the time. The distances covered aren’t huge, so you get a lot of variety – and without a car!

Llanca

This is a typical Costa Brava seaside town and this is going to be your last chance for the swim on this journey, so jump in, and then jump back on the train. On the other hand, if you are going to spend the night here, then check in and go straight down the promenade past the little fisherman’s port to the very far right hand side of the town and head out the coastal path with your ciabatta roll and cheese and olives and bottle of Narbonne red, and find any one of scores of scenic spots in coves or cliffs to settle down with the view. There is a similar walk from the other end of the beach, but this has higher cliffs, and a pirate’s cave.

Figueres

You mightn’t be back here for a full holiday, because it is 18 kms inland from the coast, but spend the 12 Euros you saved on the picnic and take the opportunity to have a good hearty laugh in a museum. For this is the Dali Museum, just 10 minutes walk from the train station. This is where you will find the Lip Couch, in the Mae West Room, along with the rest of the accoutrements that make up her features, the massive Car-naval installation with the monster fat lady bearing down the bonnet of a vintage Chevrolet, and the nude of his wife Gala that turns into a portrait of Abraham Lincoln if you stand back far enough. This museum is a fun palace, inside and out, sitting all red and green with its geodesic dome and rooftop trim of cream eggs and gold Oscar-like figures, in the very heart of Figueres, a fine, stolid, old fashioned looking market town, a Skibbereen of the Costa Brava (never mind).

Run now, because you are nearly done, unless you are going to take in Barcelona. The train journey to Girona from Figueres is around 50 kms and costs €2.90, yes €2.90, and there are trains throughout the day.

Girona

I think you should stop here, because I am exhausted. Just get yourself up to the Cathedral on foot – about 10 minutes walk – and you will have crossed the river and covered a good part of the territory of the old town. Leave your bag in the station, because you will be coming back here to get the airport bus just outside the door. The Cathedral is ginormous. The Museum is next door and on the feast of St Narcis (Narcissus) the patron saint of the city, entrance is free (but you don’t have to do a complete Michael. Pay the fee. It is worth it). And when you have snapped all the bits and corners of the vast interior trying to get a shot that would capture the size of it, go past the altar to the right and have a look at the Last Supper painting that shows Mary Magdalene with her head in Jesus’ lap. Yes, it is true. Go see for yourself. And then get yourself a big slap-up meal and go home and get someone to buy you the book City of Secrets by Patrice Chaplin and read all about Girona’s connection with that whole Rennes le Chateau thing. Or better again, get it before the trip.

How’s that!
You could probably do this for about €150. And don’t forget to clap when the flight lands early.