If I'd written that title in French, it would be "il était un fois à Foix". Other homonyms are "foie"--liver--and "foi"--faith, offering all kinds of opportunities for intellectual French puns.
Anyway, Foix with an "x" is the capital of our department, the Ariège --the least populated capital in France according to the Internet--and, as we had some business to do, here's where we went.
Once the home of the counts of Foix, this splendid castle stands on a colossal rock and looms over the town leaving no doubt as to who was in charge.
Enough history for today. Our Ariège business finished (which took all of 15 minutes including hand-shakes) we sauntered around the narrow streets, ruined our appetites with a late-morning pain sux raisins eaten in the shade of the cathedral. Which is not to say we didn't want lunch an hour later. A sunny day, a great day for hanging washing on the line which means breezy and the temperature was just a few degrees too chilly to eat outside. Peter went for the plat du jour and I had a goat cheese salad, and drank the rosé that came with his duck confit and frites.
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