As I visit castle ruins in France, I have become conscious of the isolation that life on the precipice entailed. The sites are located on the highest spot in the visual range and use the natural bedrock of a cliff for the base foundation. Although a spectacular view, I can imagine the loneliness. Earlier this month In Paris, I was reminded of Marie Antoinette's demise by the guillotine.
Today we drove on a narrow road that curved through the Languedoc region of the Cathar castles. In the distance, elevated above the landscape, there was a stronghold ruin. We had to stop. As my companion photographed, I could not help but be in wonder of the building ability - the simple need to haul materials to the site seems astronomical for the 12th century. And as History reports, after accomplishing amazing
architectural feats
the Cathars in the fortresses were still conquered by the Crusade sieges of the 13th century. These strongholds fell and inhabitants were burned at the stake.
My little granddaughter wants to be a princess ... should I tell her that in times gone by being a "princess" has not been a secure career move?
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