I am no stranger to flirting with danger. I've driven through Epping. However, the events of Saturday night in the medieval city of Carcassonne were alarming, even for me.
It all started with Saint Nicholas. He and his merry men appear this time every year outside the huge, imposing drawbridge of the fortified city. This is celebrated by a torch lit procession through the narrow streets of Carcassonne called 'Le March aux Flambeaux'.
The festivities began with a huge medieval market, with lots of lords-a-leaping and maids-a-milking. Minstrels mingled, torturing their authentic looking instruments into emitting strangled sounds. A Jester drew a large crowd showing off his juggling skills but I'd just seen Le Cirque du Soleil perform in Toulouse, so I wasn’t impressed.
As the light faded behind the fortified ramparts, Christmas lights appeared in the trees and the fire dancers arrived. These flame proof performers defied belief as they ate, breathed and twirled flaming hoops and swords. I was impressed.
Then it was our turn. The idea, in theory, is a good one. You buy a torch for three Euros and the proceeds go to the Muscular Dystrophy Association. It's only when the fire dancers started lighting everyone's torches and the crowd heaved forward to the start of the walk, that I wondered about the absence of standby fire fighters and medical staff.
Our torches were remarkably simple but had all the potential of a Molotov cocktail. A long piece of wood had been wrapped in wax-soaked gauze, with a length of bare wood at the bottom as a handle. A nice touch was a round piece of thin useless cardboard at the bottom, which I presumed was to stop hot wax dripping on to your highly flammable gloved hand.
By now it was pitch dark, except for a sea of bobbing flames against the outline of the Citadel. The crowd had increased alarmingly in size. Many hundreds of old and young, some with pushchairs and dogs, walked huddled together, each proudly holding aloft a flame that danced dangerously close to their neighbours.
Everyone was mostly silent, except for the odd exclamation, followed by the smell of singed hair.
As we followed the rotund, dancing Saint Nicolas and the beating drums through the ancient, narrow streets, lined by highly flammable wood fronted houses and shops, inhabitants opened their top floor shutters and shouted encouragement. I started to feel a primeval instinct that rose from deep within my ancestral depths. Peasants had once marched along these cobbled streets in protest of feudal tax increases, pitchforks and torches at the ready.
My musing was interrupted by a fierce gust of wind. Immediately, the sky was full of thousands of firefly like sparks from our torches that slowly descended on to the many puffer jackets, that then ignited briefly before melting like snow.
Resolutely, we continued our parade, over the ancient bridge into the town, the torches now melting worryingly close to our hands.
At last, the street opened up into a large square and we were able to extinguish our waxy stubs in waiting water barrels.
As part of Carcassonne's Magic de Noel, the square had been transported into a winter wonder land of fun. Everything that stood still had been covered with coloured twinkling lights or animated projections of snowmen and Father Christmases. In case we hadn't had enough of an adrenalin rush, there was a huge ferris wheel and fun park. An icy white skating ring waited for the brave, surrounded by rows of brightly decked Christmas trees.
It was picture perfect. As someone who hasn't had a Northern hemisphere Christmas for forty-three years, I could only look on in wide-eyed wonder. I felt a tsunami of cherished childhood memories.
Arriving in France in winter and finding ourselves locked into a rental that was cold and miserable, has been very difficult. However, standing there, surrounded by such brilliance and gently nursing my blistered fingers, I felt that living dangerously was worth it.
For video evidence, go to
Fun Fact about France - outside of Paris and Marseille, all firefighters (known as Pompiers) are civilian volunteers. In addition to fire protection and rescue, they also provide emergency medical services.
Oh my goodness, I loved reading your blog. It made me smile. I could feel the tension amongst the crowd. I will be following you every step of your incredible journey in France .
I always loved torch marches 😂