Cassoulet, Sardana and Awe in Perpignan

The sun dipped down toward the Pyrenees and the Med sparkled seductively on the horizon as our ancient Mercedes bounced across the cobbles of the one way system in Perpignan. The Madame at the chambres d’hotes we found bustled into the room ahead of us, throwing open the shutters of the windows and chattering away at top speed, hands gesturing wildly towards the mountains now turning violet as dusk fell. The curtains fluttered gently as I leant on the balcony and breathed in the scent of Southern France. The city buzzed with excitement as crowds filed through the narrow streets. It was 23 June and we had stumbled into this ancient Catalan town on the border of France and Spain on the night of Le Fete de St Jean.

Whilst the festival of St John the Baptist is celebrated in many Catholic countries, this Catalan area of France and Spain has made it its own. A fire within Le Castillet, the main city gate, that burns throughout the year is taken by horseriders to the top of Mount Canigou, the highest peak for miles around, where it is transformed into a gigantic bonfire. More riders, carrying more flaming torches spread out across the Pyrenees until the mountains blaze. The night sky alight and the air heavy with smoke, the horseriders drive cattle and horses in a grand procession back to the city.

We strolled through the streets as children ran laughing, adults chatted in groups, young teens held hands and babies dozed in strollers, on the warm summer’s evening. Bands of musicians played flutes and tambourines and older Catalan men and women joined hands in circles dancing the Sardana. The streets hung with the scent of cassoulet bubbling in pans in open doorways of cafes and every face you saw wore a smile. Choruses of ‘Bonne Soir. Ca va’ echoed through narrow alleys as even strangers greeted each other with two kisses on the cheek.

Finally, at midnight, the spellbinding scene unfolded around us, as against the backdrop of Le Castillet, a light show was projected against the red brick walls and the crowds surged forward as fireworks exploded in the star bedecked sky and music in time to the explosions drowned the gasps of wonder as everyone watched the spectacle. Music played as the fireworks reflected against La Tet, the river which winds its way through Perpignan and onwards to the Med. We discovered another world that night, so far removed from our own, where we weren’t strangers but friends of the warm-hearted Perpignan people.