John Doonican, who’s father Val must have been one of Waterford’s most famous sons , has written to me asking about the Tramontane wind that people talk about in this part of the world.
It is a most interesting question and has set me off Googling and Wikapediaing at a great rate.
My first personal contact with this wind was when we were doing the tour of the castle in Carcassonne. At one point the guide made a little joke about the wind in the turrets and then explained that she always made this joke at this part of the tour because “In Carcassonne it is always windy”
This wind is the Tramontane.
From what I can gather this word Tramontane, which most likely means the Across Mountain (wind), has been used for hundreds of years usually to mean a cold northerly wind coming from (you have guessed it ) across the mountains.
Often in Italy (where it is called the Tramontana) and other eastern European countries this is a wind which has been chilled by passage over the Alps.
This of course means that it is very closely related to that wind which whistles down the Rhone Valley and which is the scourge of Provence and the Cote d’Azure; the Mistral.
The Tramontane in Languedoc however is something different and quite specific.
Between the Atlantic coast of France and the Mediterranean there is a natural corridor caused by the Massif Central to the north and the Pyrennees to the south and it is down this narrow corridor that our version of the Tramontane travels- or indeed near Carcassonne often gallops.
Therefore , in the Languedoc, it is a north westerly rather than a northerly wind and indeed it is often welcome here in the heat of summer.
In the winter it is not always so welcome and at the moment it is being blamed by the weathermen for our most unseasonal snow.
Comments
martine
on March 11, 2010You remind me a poem from Victor Hugo, and a song from Brassens (The wind that blows accross the mountain…”
Gastibelza, l’homme à la carabine,
Chantait ainsi:
Quelqu’un a-t-il connu doña Sabine ?
Quelqu’un d’ici ?
Chantez, dansez, villageois ! la nuit gagne
Le mont Falu…
Le vent qui vient à travers la montagne
Me rendra fou. Je ne sais pas si j’aimais cette dame,
Mais je sais bien
Que, pour avoir un regard de son âme,
Moi, pauvre chien,
J’aurai gaîment passé dix ans au bagne
Sous les verrous…
Le vent qui vient à travers la montagne
Me rendra fou.
Quelqu’un de vous a-t-il connu Sabine,
Ma señora ?
Sa mère était la vieille maugrabine
D’Antequarra,
Qui chaque nuit criait dans la tour Magne
Comme un hibou…
Le vent qui vient à travers la montagne
Me rendra fou.
Quand je voyais cette enfant, moi le pâtre
De ce canton,
Je croyais voir la belle Cléopâtre,
Qui, nous dit-on,
Menait César, empereur d’Allemagne,
Par le licou…
Le vent qui vient à travers la montagne
Me rendra fou.
Vraiment, la reine eût près d’elle été laide
Quand, vers le soir,
Elle passait sur le pont de Tolède
En corset noir.
Un chapelet du temps de Charlemagne
Ornait son cou…
Le vent qui vient à travers la montagne
Me rendra fou.
Dansez, chantez, villageois, la nuit tombe
Sabine, un jour,
A tout vendu, sa beauté de colombe,
Tout son amour,
Pour l’anneau d’or du comte de Saldagne,
Pour un bijou…
Le vent qui vient à travers la montagne
M’a rendu fou.
Le roi disait, en la voyant si belle,
A son neveu:
Pour un baiser, pour un sourire d’elle,
Pour un cheveu,
Infant don Ruy, je donnerai l’Espagne
Et le Pérou !
Le vent qui vient à travers la montagne
Me rendra fou.
Victor Hu
Martin
on March 11, 2010Thanks Martine, beautiful words.
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