We caught the €1 bus to Perpignan and then a train to Narbonne – only 45 minutes away. The train trip was much more expensive at €24 each  / return. We had heard this city had a wonderful indoor market called Les Halles. Once there, we also noticed that Narbonne had prettied itself up for Christmas. 

Narbonne was once a major fishing port but it is now located 13km from the sea. This canal was built to try and keep the city’s link to transport and sea husbandry. The bridge in this photo is a famous spot – known as the Pont Les Marchants (Merchants Bridge) because it has homes and businesses built on it in a similar fashion to Pont Vecchio in Florence. 

This is me blocking the view of the bridge. 

Mick was very keen to get to the markets before they were fermée – some websites had told us it was 1pm and others 2pm, anyway we made it and had more than two great hours there. 

Christmas brings out the best, and the worst in people. Take this display for example. 

I was actually more interested in the seafood, but not necessarily this type. 

We bought some trout and oysters but Mick was attracted to a few stalls that did not interest me so much. He bought some meat that I’m going to let him have all on his own. 

We found a Spanish tapas / wine bar called La Bodega in the markets for lunch, and of course we continued our research into the local wines. 

The only mistake Mick made when he ordered lunch was not to have ordered a bottle of wine – it would have worked out a lot cheaper than the two glasses each we had. 

You might be able to see all the bottles of wine under the counter that you could buy by the glass or the bottle. This is the one Mick chose. 

There was also a Christmas market on across the canal so we spent another hour there on our way back to the train. 

Mick trying the vin chaud – which was very sweet. 

Then trying another glass of red – at €2 each they were cheaper than what we had with lunch but nowhere near as good. By the way, that empty bottle was NOT ours. 

This bar’s theme was truffles but we were both too full to taste any. 

Surprisingly after all that wine, we did make it back to the train station only to find out our train was delayed 40 minutes. Mick’s quick thinking and the tickets seller’s good command of English allowed us to catch a different train back so we could catch the bus home. No one checked our tickets ever – we’re thinking of returning next week without buying any. 

Only joking. 

Don’t you love France? That car is millimetres from the tree trunk.