Danger Ahead!
Fire!
8/15/20263 min read
It was Friday afternoon. We had just enjoyed a birthday meal at our favourite vineyard restaurant and were setting off home. B.'s phone rang. When I took the call, I realised that it was our current gîte guest. He explained that they had been planning to leave for home later that night in order to avoid Saturday's traffic- jams en route. But now, they were rushing to clean and pack, for they had just become aware of a fire close by. He could see smoke in the distance, while the sound of Canadairs filled the sky. When I asked in alarm, where the fire was ,he explained that it was in the next valley. However, he had heard that the motorway around Lodève was already clogged. This was not normal for a Friday afternoon, although it would certainly be exceedingly busy the next day. These are not called 'Black Saturdays' for nothing, as holidaymakers head back from the Mediterranean coast.
As you may well imagine, we worried for the length of the journey, but not so much as to pass by Bouzigues where we stopped to buy some fresh mussels for lunch. the next day. Grey clouds were amassing to the north, but they looked less like smoke than dark rain clouds gathering. A possible thunderstorm was forecast for that evening. As we proceeded, overhead motorway signs informed us that the road to Lodève was clear, but that the stage beyond that, which climbs the winding road to Pas de l'Escalette, would add an extra hour to the journey on top of the ten to fifteen minutes that it normally takes. When we drew closer to Lodève, we left the motorway and followed a 'rat run' around the town , knowing that traffic had already been building up on the motorway ahead. Three large yellow Canadair skimmed the rooftops as we passed. On leaving Lodève we spotted a tall column of smoke rising up ahead of us. We were now approaching the roundabout where the road branches off to our village. Alas, traffic was being diverted off the motorway at this point . Our faces fell, for as like as not there would now be a long procession of cars through St Étienne de Gourgas and on over the Causse to Le Caylar. Would we ever get home? When we reached the front of the queue however, we saw that our road was actually blocked. A gendarme waved us on towards a minor road which ran along the other side of the motorway." But we live up there," I protested. Fortunately he let us through , but not before taking a picture of our number plate.
When we reached home, our guests were still there. We learned that the danger had been caused by a vehicle catching fire as it climbed towards the top of the Causse . This had since spread over the adjacent ten hectares. I explained the traffic situation and advised them to avoid the congestion by climbing to the top of our valley and entering the motorway further to the north. That evening we heard the odd siren, but the skies fell silent. It seemed that the disaster of a spreading fire had been avoided.
This morning all risk of fire seemed to be over, but alas, the heat wave continues. Only 1.5 ml of rain had fallen overnight...barely enough to dampen the ground. A bag of mussels from Bouzigues sat in the fridge, begging to be cooked for lunch. I dreamed of ' moules à la brasucade,' that traditional Hérault way of cooking mussels over a fire that we had recently enjoyed at the Quatorze Juillet village feast. I had the perfect recipe, using garlic and chilli, fresh herbs from the garden ( rosemary, parsley, and thyme) and mixing these with olive oil and a generous dash of Pernod. When it was made, B. set about cleaning the mussels. "But of course, we can't light the charcoal barbecue. It's forbidden!" he reminded me. Alas, I had forgotten. We wavered, knowing that we would have a hosepipe close by. For a brief moment we decided to go ahead regardless. But that was stupid , for charcoal barbecues pose a very serious risk of fire in these times. We soon saw sense and the mussels were cooked on the stove instead. Then we added the marinade. They were delicious, but no way as good as they might have been when imbued with the smoky flavour of the barbecue. Perhaps one day soon, when all risk of fire is over, we will return from Bouzigues with more mussels and have a real feast. Why don't you join us?
