Tarascon Pt. 2 - Pastoral Dissemination

St. Agne Train Station, Toulouse

I took the 6:49 train from Toulouse to Tarascon-sur-Ariège, a trip that lasted about 1.5 hours in total. In Europe, debit/credit cards now have standardized electronic chips that are fed into readers that allow you to make payments - unfortunately, the United States is stuck in the 20th century on that front, and my old-fashioned debit card, you know, the kind you swipe, is completely useless, except for withdrawing money from ATMs.

Luckily, I had money. 

Unluckily, the machines only take change, not bills.

So, getting on the train, I had no ticket. No big deal. About 20 minutes into the trip, the conductor came to check my ticket, and I explained my predicament. No problem, I paid him in cash, and that was the end of it. Of course, the second I opened my mouth, he knew that I was not French (also probably by my high white socks with shorts, just kidding). After he had checked all the tickets, he doubled back to chat with me a bit.

He asked where I was from, thinking that I was from Canada, and when I told him that I was from the U.S., the conversation instantly switched over to the New York Knicks and comparing Parisian and American Ghettos. We talked about that, about the President, about what I did and didn't like about my country, and about what I was doing there. He was a Frenchman, born to Algerian parents,  who had spent time in Australia and Saudi Arabia - an extremely interesting and intelligent person. It occurred to me that it would be interesting to hear his take on the changes that we are trying to study in the Pyrénées, so we lingered on that topic a bit. 

Throughout his time working for the Railroad, shuttling back and forth from Toulouse to the Pyrénées, he had met quite a few interesting characters, the most interesting of which, seemed to be a sheep herder who he'd befriended. 

Apparently he'd heard a story, in which the sheepherder had lost a couple of sheep, to some unusual circumstances-

He explained that the changes in climate had been wreaking havoc on the ecosystems of the Pyrénées, everywhere from the bottommost plants to the highest of predators (more on that to come...) The highlands support a variety of birdlife, the largest of which, the vulture, traditionally feeds on the carcasses of dead animals. Apparently, because of the increasing lack of smaller dead prey (also pushed out of the mountains due to food shortages), the vultures have had to take drastic steps to ensure their survival.

One day, while the herder was high in the mountains with his animals, he described an event where the entire sky around him became black with vultures swooping. He took shelter near a tree, and watched as a flock of aggressive birds pecked one of his smallest sheep to death. He said that what remained after the attack did not even resemble an animal carcass. 

I have no idea whether the story is true, although I have no reason to doubt its authenticity. What I find interesting, above all, is the exchange of knowledge that appears to have happened - from a primary source, an old-time pastoral farmer, to a man of a completely different and decidedly more modern walk of life. 

Abandoned Old Train Station of Terascon-sur-Ariège