This place really is becoming a travel blog, isn’t it. Did you know I study rocket science Monday to Friday? You wouldn’t know it by this website, that’s for sure!

Anyway, my adventures in the middle of nowhere last weekend continued with my trip to the town of Marciac in southwestern France. It was a short drive by sunflower laiden fields to get here from the village where I’m staying, and soon enough, we were stepping out into the classical French town.

Lil l’historie

Marciac was founded in 1298 and is named after Guichard de Marzé, a Chamlain of the king at the time. The town still displays some of its original layouts, such as its elliptical shape that was once defined by a stone wall. These days, the town has more modern buildings (at least from the past century or so) and is a popular spot for locals in the southwestern French area

Marciac is most well known for its jazz festival, which is held for two weeks every summer and attracts performers and watchers from all over the world. Sadly, I’ll be busy elsewhere when the festival is on, so I’m missing it. But of course there’s always next year, and that doesn’t stop me from exploring whats here today!

In the centre of town is the Place de l’Hôtel de ville, a large square surrounded by shops and cafés where most people tend to congregate during the day. Here, my chums and I are getting a few drinks and just enjoying the French summer!

Time to Explore

Of course, me being me, I never sit still for long, and soon I wanted to explore more of the town to see what was happening. I began by circling the square and seeing what shops were available. Sadly, it was a Sunday, so most of the shops were closed, and I could only gaze longingly through the windows.

There were food shops and novelty shops; kitchen shops and clothes shops. Certainly enough to keep one satisfied if it were too difficult to get to a big city. Before long though, I’d left the main square and ventured out to the side streets of the town. Venturing around, the first thing I came across was a centuries old church not far from the centre.

Ancienne église des Augustins

The church, translating to the Ancient Church of Augustin, used to be a lot more built up than it is today, but in 1579 many of its galleries were destroyed by protestants! After that in 1909, the last of the galleries was sold, shipped to America, and lost! Thankfully, in 2016, it was able to be located and brought back to its rightful place here in Marciac.

The church is completely open to visitors, where you can see much of the restoration work being done as well as learn about the history of the building. An interesting part for me was the large wire frame that displays where the many arches would have once been hundreds of years ago; now remaining as just a silhouette of history.

I continued my wandering around the town. One might say I was lost, but truly, I had no destination. It was nice to just see a classic French town and imagine all of the lives that have been lived here over the centuries.

Fear Incarnate

Eventually, I came across a second church and started about trying to find the entrance. As I did, though, something that will haunt me for many years to come happened.

It was extremely loud, louder than anything I’d heard in years, as an air raid siren began blaring from the town centre. I’ve never heard one in person myself, only in old recordings and movies, but I can tell you now it is a truly haunting sound.

My whole body went into panic. Had the Americans finally snapped? Were they launching an attack around the world? Maybe my own people were taking revenge for the hundred years war? The sirens continued to whirr as the thoughts did around my head.

My life began to flash before my eyes just as I was always told it would. Had I explored enough of the world? Taught enough science? Yet here I was in the middle of this beautiful town, maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad place…

What felt like minutes – but was most likely a few seconds – passed with the air raid siren still blaring until eventually a new sound began also, bells. They were coming from the bell tower of the church, the classic melody signifying that another hour had passed. Sure enough, the sirens stopped, and I checked my watch. It was precisely midday.

What I didn’t know, and possibly learned in the worst way possible, is that every day at midday Marciac activates the old air raid siren from the second world war simply to signify that it is midday. I’m not mad at anyone, but it would have been NICE TO KNOW THAT.

It’s always fun to be reminded of your own mortality nonetheless!

Heart Attack over, it’s time for Church!

I eventually found the entrance to the second church, Eglise Notre-Dame de l’Assomption or the Church of Our Lady of the Assumption. This church was much more put together than the other one and had some absolutely beautiful architecture, unfortunately as it was Sunday there was a mass going on and not wanting to be rude I paid my respects and left to continue adventuring.

I think it’s a good thing to highlight for all of these adventures I go on. Yes it’s nice to see things, to wander around and to take pictures; but a lot of these places are just peoples homes and they are just trying to go about their lives. The last thing I’d want to do is disrupt people, irritate them with my tourism, or give people like myself a bad image. So it’s imperative to be completely respectful and if you find yourself somewhere you’re not supposed to be, to turn around and walk back out without making a fuss!

*

I headed back to my friends in the main square who were just about finishing their drinks. After a breif discussion on the usage of oxford commas, we stood up, paid, and headed off (see what I did there). On the drive out of town I could see all of the stages being set up for the Jazz festival soon to occur and felt I must advertise it more here.

If you find yourself in southwestern France between the 21st of July and the 7th of August this year, take a trip to Marciac and check out the jazz festival. You don’t just get to see some excellent music, but also get a nice day out in a beautiful French town! Of course though, if you can’t do it this year, you can always plan to come next year instead! It is annual after all.

The streets and houses gave way to fields and trees as I left the town back towards nowhere. The adventure must always continue, but it was nice to make a stop here.

Maestro, play on!

Cassie