Southwest France - to Pont St-Nicolas

The second day's walk began with a very hurried breakfast - Elisabeth doesn't serve it til 9:00 and the taxi was due at 9:30.

We are about to break our fast quickly, so as not to keep the taxi waiting.

Cannot keep waiting the taxi driver who took us to the "hameau" of Russan (a little hamlet, not even a village).  Dropped us off at the town square and delivered our suitcases to our home for the night. This day began with a steep hike up and out of the town and looking down at the Russan Bridge far far below. Oddly, there's water upstream of the bridge, but none downstream.  Apparently during dry spells, there's little water to feed the streams, and the river recedes underground.

The Russan Bridge and the disappearing Gardon River.

This day we walked and walked and walked, sometimes seeing the river below, sometimes the cliffs beneath our feet, and many times glimpsing the cliffs across the gorge. This is pretty dramatic country. The cliffs are quite high, and the landscape is what is called garrigue.

Typical of the Garrigue?  I think so, from what little I could understand.

I don't pretend to understand that word, but the trees are quite small (an oak tree had tiny leaves no bigger than my thumb).  Many of the shrubs have fairly tough and think leaves - kind of like thornless holly leaves.  In some places it was very stark, in others there were grasses, but in many places the garrigue predominated. The trail mostly followed one of the Grand Randonees (well-marked foot trails); this was the GR6 and GR63, with occasional forays along a Petit Randonee.  The GRs are marked by a white stripe above a red stripe, with the PR having a yellow stripe beneath the first two.

Easy to spot the waymarks down low on this scruffy little tree - typical of what we saw in the garrigue.

Cleverly, if the trail turned left, the bars would be underscored by an upsidedown L-shaped arrow pointing left; and vice versa if the trail turned right.  And best of all, if there was a junction with an unwanted or disused trail, the colors crossed in an X shape.

Enlightened Traveller had provided us with very good maps and summaries of each day's twists and turns. We learned to follow carefully the company's notes.  One particular viewpoint was noted in the area, high above a great meander in the waterless river.

This reminded us of a series of meanders on the Potomac River called the PawPaw Bends. 

 When we arrived at this viewpoint, we were not alone - a local man and his lovely Australian Shepherd dog were there. While we ate our lunch, doggie knew what was going on and visited each of us in turn, looking for a hand-out. She was also smart enough to lie down in our shadows, shielded from the sun's heat.

She's a beautiful, friendly but well behaved Australian Shepherd.

A short distance along we were passed by a hunter and his bird-dog.  Seems that bird hunting season had begun.  He wore an yellow cap and his dog an orange collar.

His English was even worse than my Frence.

The worst hiking ever for me had to have been the last kilometer or two before we reached the Pont St-Nicolas.  We were hiking along the high ridge above the gorge (not comfortable for one who doesn't like heights), and the footing is what Enlightened Traveller described as "classic denuded limestone causeway". We called it the swiss cheese rocks.

Take those rocks Pat is sitting on and imagine a long trail carved into it, with holes big enough to snare a toe or a heel. Walking on this stuff was slow, scary, and always with eyes alertly examining the trail.

The best part - rather, the only good part - of this section is the periodic sighting of the bridge in the distance. It was build in mid-13th century with a series of medieval arches.  Before it was built, crossing the Gardon in the rainy season required a long detour to the Pont du Gard but, according to our notes, crossing that over the highest tier was too narrow for mules. This day if there was water in the river, it was hidden by the trees on the right bank.

Actually, we drove across the bridge after our final walk.  We learned then that the great flood of September 2002 had washed out this bridge.  It is so important to transportation that it was quickly and exactly rebuilt.

The hike's end was anticlimactic - - we never got near to the bridge, never crossed it during any of our several days hikes.

The end of this day's hike took us out of the woods and along a local road to a crossroads where we were instructed to phone the owner of the gite for a ride.  But the phone had not been tested up to then for outgoing calls, and great frustration with the instructions was suffered.  Meanwhile, all we could do was sit in the hot sun and hope for relief.  Which came in the form of hiking couple returning to the parked car near to us.  I tried in broken French to explain that we could not call our host and needed some assistance.  What I hoped for was for him to make the phone call.  Instead he offered to drive us to Russan. Of course, we accepted.  Someone showed him the name of our destination; he saw it on a sign at the edge of town and drove us to the gate!!  What a good samaritan.  And we'll never know who he was.

The host is Marc, his wife is Isabelle, and the gite is called Gite des Figouriers, or the Gite of the fig tree owners.  Inside the courtyard is a huge big fig tree.  Made me wish Joe could have seen it.

The house is much larger than what this photo shows.  The rooms were above the two doors seen here, kind of a suite connected by a comfortable bathroom.

Our rooms were pretty comfortable, the dinner was very down-home:  melon with ham, great hot lasagna, and a fruit cup of figs and white peaches, all washed down with Rose wine - which may be a speciality of the region.

Our first course, with wine, of course.

Dessert was white peaches and figs.  I was too hungry to bother photographing the lasagna.

And the dinner was served to us by the owner's daughter, probably about 17 or 18. Maybe she's breaking into the business or maybe she needed to practice her English language skills, or maybe both.  She was very sweet.

This was such a quiet place.  Had there not been a bright light in the courtyard outside my window I'd have left the window open all night in hopes of seeing many stars.

Southwest France - to Uzes and walking

I'm just back home again, after 20 days in Southwest France.  Why was I there (i.e., why not Paris)?  Well, the city of Toulouse was the site of the World Canals Conference in 2013.  Toulouse is the link between two great canals:  The Canal du Midi and the Canal Lateral de Garonne.  I had cruised upon the Canal du Midi in 2009 with five other women; it connects the Mediterranean Sea westward to Toulouse.  The Lateral I knew nothing about.  Thus they combine to make the Canal of the Two Seas - Mediterranean Sea and Atlantic Ocean.

And because my two hiking/canalling friends and I would be in a new place, I had the brilliant idea to combine two loves of mine: hiking and Roman antiquities, specifically the Pont du Gard, which has stood strong and stunning for 2,000 years.  A company called Enlightened Traveller helped us create a five-day hiking trip that would include the beautiful "water bridge" - the Pont du Gard.  So here begins our hiking trip on September 7.

This wayside exhibit shows, in red, the downward route of the great aqueduct, from its source in the springs of Uzes to the Roman city at Nimes.   

Our hike was not along the route of the aqueduct.  Rather it was along the gorge carved out by the Gardon River.

We made our way to the hill town of Uzes via plane to Paris, TGV to Nimes, and bus to Uzes, a very old city where the ancient Roman aqueduct originated. The original springs still flow, but no longer direct water to the aqueduct.

The original springs still flow, but are now directed into the Alzon River.

Uzes still has several springs, in addition to those that supplied the aqueduct.  Throughout the town were old public fountains, many bearing the legend "Eau Potable" - drinkable water.

This town was a good introduction to medieval France: buildings made of stone or brick, narrow little streets, and very much up and down, with towers and churches and flowers.

St Theodorit Cathedral and the Place de l'Eveche.  The tower is called Tour Fenestrelle.

A narrow little car-free street on the way to the Cathedrale where our hike began.

Our B&B (French = chambres d'hotes), La Maison de La Bourgade, was one or two blocks from the center of town (and the bus stop). Quite a nice place, complete with a swimming pool.  Of course, we headed for it very quickly.  Hmm.  Not heated!  But, as Elisabeth, our hostess said:  "It is quite refreshing". My room overlooked both the courtyard and the street.

You can see the several tables set for breakfast; the chilly pool is just barely visible in the upper right corner.

The town's large "Place aux herbes" is ringed with cafes and shops, with plenty of open space in the center.

Quite a large open square; the arches denote the large open vaulted area, some of which served as cafes and others as shops, with a few being vacant.

We dined there at an open-air cafe called Thierry.  The Place is also the site for the weekly farmer's market, which we visited first thing on Saturday morning.  Not really a true farmer's market (i.e., not producers only), there were charcuterie, poisson, viand, pain, and old clothes for sale.  Quite a busy place.

clearly the domain of the fishmonger; I wish I knew the French word for fishmonger.

the bucherie?  or just a stand where meat was being sold?  

"Ail" is the French word for garlic.  Imagine calling a variety of garlic "Rose du Tarn".  Tarn is the name of a river many miles away.

Between Friday evening (our arrival) and Saturday midday (our first day's walk) we investigated a bit of the town, bought postcards/stamps, and generally got acclimated.  The first day's walk was about 5 miles, down the mountain fairly gradually into the gorge.

This beautiful stone wall is somewhere between "Mas Cazotte" and "Moulin de Carriere".  I'd love to know if the herringbone pattern of the dry-laid stone wall contributes to its stability

Crossing the Alzon River; passing walled homes; investigating a former mill; through a town forest;

and rewarded by a wonderful vista across the gorge to the town and its several towers.

If I'd paid more attention, I could identify the towers; but I'm satisfied with a lovely view.
Then back down into the gorge to follow the path of the old aqueduct (here it was a channel just a few feet wide)

Pat has walked through a tunnel that is a remnant of the 2,000 year old aqueduct while Barbara rests on the stone wall.

Although the aqueduct delivered thousands of liters of drinkable water to the inhabitants of the important city of Nimes, it appears to be quite small, don't you think?

and Northward to the source - the Fontaines d'Eure.

The large sign:  "Eure spring captured by the Romans to supply Nimes drinking water through the aqueduct"

Back at the B&B we tried the pool again - - more "refreshing" than the day before.  As we walked back to the Place for dinner, rain began to fall.  Very intensely falling.

No dining in the square tonight.

We ducked into the nearest likely-looking cafe. There are several in the vaults that formed the ground floor of the surrounding buildings.  It made for a very different kind of dining experience - quite nice to be warm and dry amid the trickle of puddles and the constant rainfall. And the rain tapered off enough for us to scurry back "home" and pack up for a move to the next B & B.

Leaving . . .

No photographs this time.  Preparing to go to France for 20 days.  And the departure date is here, this afternoon.  A hiking trip of a few days from Uzes to Nimes (including Pont du Gard), then to Sete on the Mediterranean Sea so we can submerge ourselves in that ancient and mysterious and powerful sea. Someone told me yesterday that it's saltier than the ocean we know because of evaporation.  We'll find out.

I've made list and more lists, and yet another list.  In previous years, when I was gainfully employed, I had less time on my hands and so I was much more decisive about what I was going to do, what I was going to pack, and so on and on.  Obsessive is what I've become.  My list of clothing was completely organized in my head; I wrote it all down, gathered it all in one place, packed and repacked the suitcase.  And decided that this was too much.

But I was trying to balance the potential lack of laundry facilities against wearing soiled clothing.  I think the soiled clothing has won.  There's only a four day stretch in one hotel  in Toulouse, and that's during the conference itself - in the middle of my 20 days.  Funny thing about the World Canals Conferences - there are presentations in the morning and then tours in the afternoon, sometimes into the evening.  I believe there might be ONE evening that we are on our own.  That doesn't leave much room for searching out a laundromat (what is the French word for such?  Do they have such?). But I could bring my stretchy clothes line and hope that the maid who cleans the room won't knock any down anything drying there.

Plus there are gadgets that need recharging, which means adapters and converters (space eaters).  And with aging come additional medications (fortunately sorted into little daily compartments) and toiletries, and pretties for dressing up for the "banquet" (vanity, vanity).

One thing I absolutely must do is to find La Poste and mail my hiking clothing back home.  That will make hauling the suitcase easier, and give me a bit of room if there's a souvenir I want to purchase.

My hiking boots are about 12 years old and at the end of their useful life.  The goretex lining has lost its waterproofness. The right-foot boot has a crack in the leather that admits water.  So I shall leave them in some trash container or on the train or something.  (To save space today I'm wearing them rather than packing them.)  So not I just watch the hands on the non-digital clock circle round until Joe and I decide it's time to go.

I will not have electronics on this trip - - no smart phone, no tablet or laptop computer (not that I have one I could bring anyway).  So no more posting until much much later, and then with a lot of photographs (we hope)