Scaling the Pyrenees with friends...

Tues 12 we head off to Toulouse, where we will meet up with friends Kay, Alec, Jane and Steve from Christchurch, NZ.

Our drive takes us through huge vineyards and here we also come across acres upon acres of sunflowers. Their bright yellow faces light up the countryside as they cast a luminous golden glow across the valleys and hillsides. When I see sunflowers in the future, I will always think of France.

Rows upon rows of these docile plants, with their big heads, nod towards the sun or if it's been cloudy all day they barely lift their faces, and their big heads and petals droop sadly towards the ground. France is a big producer of sunflower seed, all of which is used for human and bird consumption and also for producing sunflower oil and meal (for animals).

Toulouse (pronounced Too-luze) is the fourth biggest city in France and is known as La Ville Rose (the pink city) due to its glow, in the late evening sun, from its red brick pseudo-Roman style buildings. We get a glimpse of this on our late afternoon walk. It also is a base for the European aerospace industry and houses the headquarters of Airbus, Galileo positioning system, the SPOT satellite system, and CNE's Toulouse Space Centre, the largest space centre in Europe. Unfortunately, we don't get enough time to explore the beauty and amazing technology this city has to offer. We have another engagement to fulfil.

Weds 13 we meet up with our kiwi friends at the Toulouse airport where we also meet up with other New Zealander's and nationalities from around the world - Australians, Americans, and English. We are all catching a special bus tour with company Sports Tours International. We are heading for Lourdes in the Pyrenees, where we will follow three stages of le Tour de France for the next few days with our excellent English guides Sam, James and Matt. We are well-cared for by these very polite and well-mannered young university graduates.

The Pyrenees is a beautiful range of mountains that forms a natural border between France and Spain, with ridges reaching as high as 3,404m. The mountain passes are important legs in le Tour de France and are included each year.

They are also older than the Alps; have a small bear population (they were hunted nearly to extinction in the 1990s); and are popular sports grounds for skiing and cross-country running.

In the lowlands of the Pyrenees, corn is a mainstay  crop and has been grown in the area since the 16th century.

Our three to four hour bus ride to Lourdes is to become just one of many bus journeys we endure and where we learn that 'hurry up and wait' is a big part of following the tour - hurry up to get on the bus... wait to get through slow traffic with hundreds of other cars and campervans that are heading in the same direction as us... hurry to buy some food at the nearest village and then find the best viewing point to watch the race... wait for the race to come through... hurry to find the bus and get on board... wait with hundreds of other cars and campervans that are heading in the same direction as us... hurry to find a place to eat when we get back to the hotel in the late evening. It all becomes part of the experience of following le Tour - waiting for hours is a good test of patience and not really a problem when you are in good company.

We are based in the Mecure Hotel right in the heart of Lourdes, a small mountain village that is full of contrasts. Lourdes is a pilgrimage for up to six million people a year who visit the Grotto of Massabielle where, in 1858, a young local girl, Bernadette Soubirous, claimed that a beautiful lady appeared to her in the grotto.

The lady later identified herself as 'the Immaculate Conception' and many believed her to be the Blessed Virgin Mary. The grotto with its statue of Mary 'Our lady of Lourdes' has been a shrine to the masses ever since and water from an underground spring is believed to possess healing qualities. There are around 270 hotels in Lourdes, the second greatest number of hotels per square km in France after Paris but more about this interesting little village later.

It is raining upon our arrival and we walk th streets to find somewhere to eat. There are plenty of shops, restaurants and cafes but not all are still open. It is also the eve of Bastille day which is celebrated throughout France and celebrations often follow on for several days.

Later in the evening, close to midnight, we hear the whistle of fireworks and loud, thumping bangs (loud enough to shake the windows) as they explode into beautiful patterns and colours in the night sky. I find a little partially open window on a nearby staircase and stay, crouched, for a while to watch as the sky lights up and the hotel shakes. It is hours before the partying dies down and we can finally get some sleep.

Thurs 14 is our first day following the tour. We are up early-ish to see Max and Alec off as they ride ahead of the tour up the Col du Tourmalet. Their climb up the Col du Tourmalet is approx 19km, 2115m high, with an average 7.4 gradient and a maximum of 10. Each kilometre is marked by the distance to the summit and the average gradient of the next kilometre.

It's been two months since Max has been on a bike but he gives it his best and is rewarded with some amazing views of a beautiful, mountainous countryside.

Dharyl, our little NZ mascot bear, goes up the mountain for the ride and gives moral support.


It's an endurance ride for both Max and Alec but they both complete the circuit of 72km from Lourdes to Luz Saint Sauveur in time to join the rest of our group to wait for the tour to come through.

In Luz Saint Sauveur, we find a good deal on some Le Tour spectator chairs that come individually in bright yellow official backpacks. We pay 19 euro each, another shop sells them for 29 and the official merchanise team sells them for a whopping 40 euro and doesn't believe us when we tell them ours has the official logo and is half the price! I also buy a genuine cow bell so I can ring it as the race comes through.

Just out of the village, we wait for nearly six hours for the race to come up the mountainside. We find a good spot to watch from and settle in for the day. To while away the hours, we eat baguettes and then more baguettes, try to mark the road with 'NZ' and 'ChCh', watch other cyclists come up the hill (some with baguettes sticking out of their backpacks), and cheer them. Then finally, an hour before the race comes through, the official Tour Caravan, with up to 180 vehicles, comes at speed up the hill.

Some are support cars, journalists, TV crews, and others are commercial sponsors, who help relieve any boredom and create an atmosphere of excitement for all the spectators. As they come past, freebies are thrown to the crowds and hands are thrust foreward in hope of catching at least one special treat - more if you are lucky (or desperate). These include caps, bread bags, key rings, fridge magnets, water bottles, newspapers, clappers, lollies, bandanas and much more... our favourite is a bag with little Madeleine cakes - delicieux!

Finally, the photographers on motorbikes come past at speed, and when we see the helicopters hovering overhead, we know the race leaders are not far away. We all edge our way foreward for a better view. Around the bend come the 'gendarmes' police on motorcycles, sirens blaring - next, the Race Director's car - then, a motorcycle with a TV cameraman hanging off the back - and finally, the first cyclist.



Amidst all the excitement and noise of the crowd, helicopter, support vehicles and sirens, it takes only seconds before he whizzes past, quickly followed by another, and more support vehicles. On it goes until finally the peleton (main bunch of riders) comes racing through. It's exciting to see them come at speed up the hill, a whirr of wheels in a tight bunch, but just as quickly they are gone.

Finally, a happy elated crowd slowly drifts its way back down the mountain. They join the queue of cars and campervans and wait for the long drive home again.

Frid 15 Max, Steve and Alec head off to Pau on their bikes to watch the start of the race. Unfortunately they take a wrong turn and end up riding a few extra kilometers - 54km to get there and a mere 34km to come back to Lourdes. Kay and Jane head off to Pau in the bus. I decide to stay behind to explore and photograph the village as the race finishes in Lourdes late in the afternoon and I plan to watch it come though then.

I wander around a huge concrete expanse known as the Domain that leads up to the Basilica of the Rosary (an exquisitely decorated chapel built between 1883 and 1889), where mass sermons are held (the Domain can take up to 80,000 people). I then visit the grotto and also drink some of the 'healing water' - it's a hot day anyway but I'd be quite happy if my eczema was cured.

People are constantly on the move around here - coming and going. A great many are in wheelchairs, some are in beds and others are in special carts and being towed or pushed by their carers.

All come to visit the grotto, pray, and drink the special water. While I am at the grotto, a man dressed in robes, maybe a priest, steps up to a pulpit and asks people to quieten down - it isn't really noisy to begin with but such is the reverence of this spiritual place.

A hush quickly spreads over the crowd. I watch as people line up and wait their turn to walk beneath the grotto (maybe 30-40 or so at a time), say a prayer, touch the walls and then themselves as they walk beneath the statue of Mary.

I am not the only one watching, I am standing with many others although some are on their knees deep in prayer. The quietness that envelopes the area is deeply spiritual and quite overwhelming.

Much later at night, we return to the grotto as it and the Basilica are fully lit up in the darkness. Both are an amazing sight to behold. We also visit an area where you can light a candle for loved ones, which we do - for all our family and friends back home.

Earlier, I mentioned that Lourdes was a village of contrasts - on one hand it is very spiritual and revered place of importance for the Catholic church. On the other hand it is highly commercial.

All around are shops spilling out onto the streets - easily 70-80 shops, maybe more - hawking souvenirs of Mary and Bernadette, slender detailed statues of the two, bottles of all sizes shaped like Mary to catch the special water, and much, much more - all vying for dollars from the people who make their pilgrimage here.

Hundreds upon hundreds of souvenirs can be found in these shops, some beautiful and others quite gaudy.

Each night the shops are lit up like a mini Las Vegas, open 'til late - each day they try to make money out of this very special place. Sadly, commercialism takes over.

No-one seems to go to bed early here. We are told that the volunteer carers, who come with the many disabled or old, like to party way into the early hours.

We also come across beggars on the street corners - some with children asleep in their arms and others with animals. And each night, they sit on the corners or sprawl across the pavements, hopeful for a coin.

Across from the hotel, in a small park, is a group of gypsies. Close by, in a tree, hangs all their worldly belongings - bags and clothes, all strewn over branches. The gypsies sit on big pieces of cardboard and argue noisily amongst themselves, oblivious to the attention they attract from people passing by, or looking out their hotel window from above.

The hotel manager shrugs his shoulders when I ask him about them. 'Oui, yes, they live there,' he says. 'you should just ignore them.'

Sat 16 we are up early, packed, breakfasted and ready to leave for the village of Les Cabanna where we will watch the race come past. Alec decides to ride part of the race route up the Plateau De Beille, 1780m, which leaves the rest of us to find a good spot to watch the race. It's a long four-hour journey by bus to get close to the village. Max and I find a good spot, uphill, 15km from the finish line and settle in for the afternoon. Luckily, we are in the shade for nearly all of the day. After the race comes through we head off to find our bus again and then wait for all our riders to return.

Finally, we are on our way to Toulouse, where we will spend the night at a Mecure Hotel and say our goodbyes to all the next day. The six Kiwis head out for late night drinks and then find a good pizza restaurant. When we get back to the hotel, we are a giggly six, and get stuck in the lift. It turns out that when we finally ring the panic button, we haven't even left the receptionist's floor, and when he opens our door, he wonders what all the fuss was about.

Really, though, it is just a good, fun way to end our tour - special friends getting together to enjoy a special adventure deep in the heart of France - what could be better!
　

　

White horses, flamingoes and ancient fortresses

Frid 8 our destination is an overnight stopover in Montagnac but we make a detour on the way to St Maries de la Mer - a sea-side village at the heart of the Carmargue. The Camargue is a huge triangle-shaped alluvial plain covering around 750 km2 and is famous for its swamps, salt marshes, flamingoes, black long-horned bulls, and white horses. This is the land of cowboys (known as Gardians), gypsies, flamenco music,and bull fights (but not to the death - thankfully these beautiful beasts live to see another day).

It is a stunning landscape and we pass many manades (ranches) where both Camargue horses and bulls are bred. By the roadside, on these ranches, are covered stalls where these horses stand in the shade waiting for people to hire them - many are saddled ready to go while others are just waiting patiently  amongst the flies and heat for their turn.

We take a stroll around the town - the sun, clear blue skies and Spanish style buildings makes this town glaringly bright and sunglasses are a must. The shops are highly commercialised and here you can find traditional Camargue herdsman-style saddles, western shirts in bright Provencal fabrics, and boots - beautiful western boots with elaborate designs and in all styles and colours.

St Maries de la Mer edges the Mediteranean - the sea is a safe swimming haven for families and the beaches are ideal for sun lovers of all shapes and sizes. We find a little place by the rocks to eat our lunch.

While we see many horses and bulls, we only catch a glimpse of a few flamingoes - their pink-ness atop tall spindly legs just catching our eye as we drive by. There are many other birds in the Camargue and we see grey and white herons by the dozens.

The Carmargue is a stunning area and one that justifies more time spent exploring its wildlife, beaches and horses -  perhaps next time.

Our hotel for the night is just on the outskirts of Montagnac and we discover it by chance and very nearly drive past. We are very excited to find it has a swimming pool - our first in France - pure watery, cool bliss!

Our travels include many different roads - 'A' roads (motorways - 130 kmph), 'D' roads (secondary roads between provincial towns - 90 kmph) and little back roads/lanes (with no markings and sometimes only single laned - 50-70kmph). To avoid paying tolls, we often take the 'D' and smaller roads - we get to see more of the countryside and experience the villages this way.

Our satellite navigator (Tom Tom) tells us what speeds we need to keep to. It also helps us find our way out of villages and towns - as our sense of direction is still in confusion (and probably won't come right until we are back in NZ).

Edging these smaller roads are colourful wild flowers - poppies, sweetpeas, spindly scabiosa (pincushion) and other pretty wildflowers/weeds I don't recognise.

Deep ditches line the roads and sometimes tall trees come right up to the edge of the tarmac like tall soldiers creating a guard of honour. We are surprised and more than pleased to find that all the roads (even the little lanes) are sealed.

Sat 9 we are on our way to Carcassonne - we only know that it is a medieval walled city known as la Cite, so we are unprepared for the sight that comes into view as we drive up to a massive stone fortress, complete with towers and turrets. We quickly discover that la Cite is a popular tourist site as we join hundreds of others trying to find car parks.

We follow the crowds across a drawbridge and through the gates of the fortress. It is 30 deg + and we find ourselves in a hot, narrow street  crammed with people and shops. La Cite is very commercialised and its cobblestoned streets and medieval buildings are filled with souvenir shops, restaurants and places to stay.








We find our accommodation for the next three nights - the YHA. Our hosts Michel and Michelle greet us and immediately make us feel welcome - Michel with his wonderful sense of humour (and also speaks English fluently).



The YHA is right in the middle of la Cite and has modern facilities. We are lucky enough to share a room instead of being separated in single sex dorms (even luckier that we don't have to share it anyone else).


Each morning we enjoy breakfast in the courtyard. The YHA turns out to be a wonderful retreat from the busy-ness of la Cite and we enjoy meeting other travellers from around the world.

In the evening, we find a restaurant for a drink and meal. There is a bit of a commotion around the tables and we are suddenly approached by a young man dressed in fish nets, skirt and wig who wants us to buy two beers for 4 euros - we are happy to oblige but negotiate for a beer and wine for 3 euros instead. We discover he is about to be married and is on a night out with his mates and has to complete a series of challenges.

Each evening, we explore the shops and the fortress, taking in the atmosphere. One night a group in the courtyard next door practices a medieval play, another night the lively tune of a saxophone, from a distant restaurant, drifts through our window as we lie awake in our beds - too hot for sleep, and yet another night we enjoy the rhythmic beating of kettle drums, played by two young girls, as we walk in the late evening around the outer walls of the fortress.

Sun 10 we decide to take a short cruise on the Canal de Midi, to give us a bit of an insight of what our own canal journey will involve. We travel 15 km all up and through two locks twice. The Canal du Midi is 240 km long and is lined with hundreds of Plane-trees or Cypress to stabilise its banks. It's a very slow, pleasant way to travel and we are looking forward to our own canal adventure.

Mon 11 we decide to head out of town and drive  into the hills of Brousses to visit le Moulin la Papier - one of the last operating paper mills in France. We park amongst the trees and walk along the road to the mill. The landscape reminds us so much of home as the forest around us is very similar to the West Coast forests back home. Down a well-trodden path we hear water and then suddenly come across an old stone building beside a stream - we arrive at the paper mill.

Our young guide speaks French but periodically she translates into English for us - we also get the idea of how it all works through viewing the drawings and machinery. The history of paper making is interesting and was originally invented by the Chinese.

Back in Carcassonne, it is another hot afternoon and we just have time for a quick lunch before making our way to the Grand Tournot de Chevalerie - an historical show that features jousting and challenges between the knights and their horses.

It's fun, fast and exciting, especially when you are right up front with your camera. I get a few good shots close to the action just a metre or so from the horses' hooves and a good spattering of sand down my neck but it's worth it.

Challenges include jousting and showing off their skills by slicing apples with their swords at a gallop, picking up  rings with long wooden spears, and scooping up flags off the ground without getting off their horses.  


The knights finished their challenges with a duel (one or two swords) to determine the winner!




 

We enjoy our time in this ancient city but it's time to move on and leave the fortress to all the other tourists who will each discover its secrets and beauty in their own way!


kiwis2go are loaded2go again!

A taste of Provence...

Frid 1 July we leave our idyllic little bay and head to Nice to pick up our hire car for the next 12 days - it's a new Ford Focus 1.6 TDI Trend 6-speed manual and it's left hand drive. It takes Max only minutes to suss out how everything works and he is quite pleased to find that the clutch and brakes are all the same as for driving a right-hand car. Driving on the motorway is a good introduction to left-hand drive with no fear of drifting into oncoming traffic but with speeds up to 130km. Provence here we come!

We get our first experience of the Mistral - a very strong provencal wind - when we stop to eat in Carpentras. We are at McDonald's - not our favourite but the only place open and where we know exactly what to expect. The Mistral blows in through the courtyard and sweeps nearly everything right off the table including the drink containers.

Our destination is Venasque, a lovely old village perched on a hilltop in the Vaucluse region. The road from Carpentras is narrow and has no centre line so driving this takes immense concentration as we try to keep to our side of the road.

The road up to the village is steep and windy with many switchbacks which we don't enjoy the first drive up, however after a few days, it is a challenge we overcome - if only the French drivers keep to their side of the road!

We park just outside the village and walk our luggage through a tunnel and along the main street until we find Impasse de l'Horloge - a tiny dead end street with a brown door that leads to our villa.

Our first impressions: we fall in love with it straight away. The stone villa with its courtyards, trees and delightful character immediately remind us of our time living in Central Otago. The villa has everything we could possibly wish for the next seven days - fully-equipped kitchen, TV, WiFi, dishwasher, fan and lovely big super king-size bed with ensuite upstairs.

Venasque is one of the many perched villages amongst the Vaucluse Hills - built high above the valleys for protection and the beautiful views. It is also classified as one of 'The Most Beautiful Villages of France' and we discover this during our evening walk.

We are also delighted to find, on our first evening, a little street market setting up - selling wine, cheese, pastries, sausages, fruit, berlingots (little fruit flavoured lollies) and vegetables.

Sat 2 - Sun 3 there is much to see and many suggested drives around Provence - and for this, a car is essential. Visiting the markets is high on our list - there is at least one in a different village each day.

We visit the l'Isle sur la Sorgue market. It is hot, colourful, and crowded, with everything on offer - a great source for traditional provencal fabrics, tablecloths and brightly coloured traditional pottery. Isle sur la Sorgue is also a mecca for antique lovers.

Mon 4 we wind our way to Mont Ventoux and stop at Bedoin for the market - it's a cooler day and the experience is quite pleasant. And for Max - there are several bike shops - we both get a few bargains!

We stop to eat a picnic lunch on the road side as recommended by many but gi-normous ants think we are on the menu so we quickly decide that a picnic out of the car boot is a much better idea. The bugs here are bigger than any others we've seen - we've seen wasps, with red wings, 10 times bigger than those at home, big black bumble bees and huge ladybirds.

Mont (Mount) Ventoux stands like a giant guardian over the valleys and plains. Its bare and barren looking summit can be easily seen from Venasque. It is a pleasant drive up the mountain through scrubby forests (where ironically we see many picnic tables). We pass plenty of cyclists on their way to the top - it's a long steep climb - some cycling, some walking their bikes, and one getting a tow, hanging onto side mirror of a van. We stop to offer assistance to a cyclist who's had a nasty accident but his buddies have already called an ambulance so we move on.

As we get close to the summit, vegetation gives way to what looks like snow but is, in fact, course white limestone scree where very little grows except perhaps the odd little alpine poppy.

At the top, we look across the valleys and plains on either side of the mountain but there is a haze which limits our view. Mont Ventoux is often included in the Tour de France, so Max is happy to have made it up this very special mountain, even if by car. It is a windless day, which is good as when the Mistral blows on the mountaintop, it can take small vehicles with it but, so we are told, it also produces deep blue clear skies.

There is a boulangerie (bakery) and a greengrocer shop in our little village and Max enjoys visiting these each morning for supplies, especially those from the bakery where he finds tantalising little tarts for supper - it's his walk of shame - his obsession to experience a new tart each day. If we lost weight in the UK, we are surely putting it back on again here in France.

Mon 5 we drive to Orange (pronounced 'oh ronge' but with a roll of the tongue on the 'r'). Here in the heat of the day we visit the Theatre Antique D'Orange - an amazing Roman theatre built during Emperor Augustus' reign and dating back to 27-25BC.

It has an intriguing past. In the early times it hosted many plays and shows with lurid themes (until the Christians came and put a stop to it); it was used for meetings and lectures; as a prison; turned into a village within its walls; and finally from 1925-37, it was excavated to return as near as possible to its origins. Gone now are the three levels which held up to 122 marble columns and once graced the 37m high, 103m long and 1.8m thick Great Wall - only one column remains. We climb, in the heat, to the top of the 'cavea' - tiered circle of seating which accommodates up to 10,000 people, to experience the accoustics. Voices from below easily reach our ears. The theatre now hosts modern singers such as Tina Turner, Police and numerous other international performers.

Our next visit is to the Pont du Gard, an ancient Roman aquaduct built with three levels to carry not only water but also people and carts. It is only a short trek from the carpark, in 37 deg, to this famous tourist attraction but well worth the sweat and exhaustion.

The Pont du Gard is the tallest of all the Roman aquaducts at 48m and took only five years to complete. The sheer size and engineering of this three-tiered hand made bridge is truly astounding. It was one of many, along with other bridges, tunnels, and siphons, built to take 20 million litres of water 50km daily from Uzes to Nimes.

When we return to the visitor centre we are pleased to discover overhead misters that send out mists of cooling vapour - sheer bliss. We later experience these, to our delight, in cafes too.

Wherever we drive or walk, we hear the loud buzzing of the cicadas. The cicada is seen embroidered on teatowels, printed on tablecloths and made into pottery and soap figures - it's symbolic of the area.

Each night we explore 'our' village, taking a different route and going beyond the village walls - finding tracks, walking roads and even discovering a cemetery down the hill and the Notre Dame de vie convent in the valley floor below.

Each night, I take my camera and document 'les chats du Venasque' - the cats of Venasque - there are a few and, as cats do, they laze about in the warm evenings on stone walls, in doorways and on windowsills - just waiting for me to catch them in the act of doing nothing.

Thurs 7 we drive through steep gorges to a very pretty but commercialised 'perched' village called Gordes. We leave the shops and hype behind and explore the little streets, tunnels, and stairways. We also discover a 'borie' near the carpark - a dry-stone beehive-shaped dwelling usually meant for one person to live in - there are many scattered across Provence and, indeed, across the world - all with different names and shapes depending on the country.

We leave the borie behind and head to Roussillion, another delightful 'perched' village, but one with a difference. For this village is in the heart of the Ochre Hills of Luberon. We take the trek with others along a red sandy path and view the steep yellow and orange/red coloured moonscape-like quarry. Our feet turn red in the sand and we take on an orange glow from the bright reflections from the ground. A most unusual but stunning attraction - we refrain from buying little bottles of layered colour sand and finally head towards home to wash our feet and sandals.

We stop on our way home to visit the Musee de la Lavende, where I learn the difference between fine lavender and lavendin -  fine lavender grows from seed and only in the Provencal hills above 800 metres, whereas lavendin grows throughout the world between 0 and 800m and is propagated from cuttings. I also view old distilleries and learn about the strong lavender history of the area. We discover some of the many lavender fields during our outings - some are well cultivated while others are quite unruly and overgrown.

From late afternoon, the local swallow population go crazy - flying in frenzied groups above our heads and calling out in their high pitched whistles - swooping down through the narrow streets, darting in and out of holes in dry-stone walls and from under the tiled eaves, and if you're unlucky, landing a poop on your head or in your drink. It's a stunning spectacle and each evening we are treated to this energetic bird dance in the sky.

On this, our last evening, we are treated to the haunting melodies and medieval songs performed by a small group called Le Trek. These men and women travel the small villages during summer to give these live performances. They move about the streets singing and playing their instruments - it is lovely to watch (they are dressed in costume) and equally so to hear their unique sound drift to across the rooftops and into our courtyard. Of course, it is also fun to follow them with the camera!

Upon reflection, the provencal landscape reminds us a little of Central Otago, Wanaka and even a little of Te Anau - its rugged-ness. It has been a wonderful week but time now to move back towards the coast and the Languedoc region...