Herbstferian

In Transit

First French Town

After touring Trier for a much longer time than planned (the usual state of affairs), we jumped in the car and were headed towards France by late afternoon, having to traverse Luxembourg on the way. We were excited about changing countries, particularly since we had originally planned on spending the entire vacation in France. We also had some cultural notions to ponder. The folks we had stayed with in Trier were in love with France, but said that it might be hard to get used to the unkempt appearance of the homes, especially after all the well painted and well kept houses in Germany: "The French prefer to spend money on food, wine, and pleasure, not on the appearance of their homes. Germans, on the other hand, feel compelled to make everything just so." Little did they know that we were used to East Germany, which still has an unfinished appearance due to economics and the obvious historical factors. Interestingly enough, we recently heard sentiment similar to the one in Trier echoed by an Austrian, who said: "Germans live to work, whereas Austrians work to live." It will be interesting to see what happens to cultural diversity and perspectives under the new organization of the EU. It also makes one wonder where North Americans fit into the scheme of things, since they work too much, don't seem to really go out of their way to tidy up their living quarters, and certainly wouldn't pass up a big Mac for a five course meal and a bottle of Bordeaux. They do love their cars though......

On the road....

Unlike the previous days, we were trying to put some distance behind us, although we did get off the highway as soon as was practical, just south of Nancy. We had very little time to stop and admire the sites, but there was at least some very remarkable countryside. Eventually, we neared the point of wanting to stop driving, passing through a town or two that had some nice looking pensions and hotels. We wanted to go a bit further...

Gradually, it began to get dark and it was hard to tell the cows from the billboards. There were no rooms or hotels to be seen anywhere. Eventually, our small road had to pass under a highway. There was a brand new hotel perched right at the off ramp, we clearly couldn't go on, and stopped. It was expensive, it was poorly built, it was only 5 km from a fighter base that was sending out practice flights, but what could we do? Stop and sleep, after eating a picnic lunch on the beds. The planes roared overhead, but fortunately stopped their bombing runs at about 10 p.m..

...rushing past...

In the morning, we hopped in the car again, none too eagerly, and hit the road.. We stayed on the two lane highways, most of the time. The French four laners are crowded with lots of fast trucks and cars (surprise, surprise), people are not as courteous as in Germany, the tolls are incredibly expensive, and the scenery is not so good. The smaller roads are much nicer, with a few exceptions that can mostly be associated with being in moderate- or large-sized towns or cities. Intersections are often resolved by rotaries, which we at first hated. Road signs are cryptic at best, which actually ends up explaining why there is an underlying beauty to the rotary. You keep driving around and around until you decide which way to go. I will never complain when I am in Boston again.

...a stretch of France.

We briefly gave up on the smaller roads in Lyon. We had been around one too many rotaries, it was rush hour, the city traffic was the pits, the road signs were incredibly uninformative, and we were a bit tired of finding our way. We jumped on the four lane, gritted our teeth, paid the tolls and escaped Lyon without a scratch, jumping off on another two lane road to snake along the Rhone River valley, once we were free of the city. We continued on until dark then got back on the four lane road for a stretch, trying to find a place to spend the night. Fortunately at a highway rest stop we picked up a booklet for the Ardèche region (without knowing what it was) that listed hotels. We settled on the small town of Bourg-St-Andéol where we had a very nice room looking out on the Rhone. The chef in the hotel restaurant was also excellent!

Gorges de l'Ardèche

We spent a comfortable night in our Bourg-St-Andéol hotel, and decided that we would like to visit the Gorges de l'Ardèche in the morning, weather permitting. However, we weren't too optimistic; in the evening there were very impressive thunderheads to the west, the direction of the gorge,and in the early morning there was thunder, a wicked wind, and pounding rain in Bourg-St-Andéol . However, by the time we rolled out of bed the storm had passed, there was a clear blue sky to the west, and only the remains of storm clouds could be seen to the east. Decided! We would tour l'Ardèche and its canyon. The Ardèche is a river originating in the Mazan Massif , north of Provence. Before it joins the Rhône near the village of Pont-St-Espirit, it cuts a deep canyon out of the limestone plateau, which is riddled with caverns and grottos.

Canyon detail

Our trip began by climbing along a small, winding road from Bourg-St-Andéol near the Rhône River to the heights of the Plateau des Laoul. This provided a grand view of the Rhône in one direction and a somewhat eerie view overlooking the cooling towers of a nuclear power plant in the other. In spite of the reminder of 20th century technology, it was exciting to be surrounded by Mediterranean vegetation, with its distinctive herbs, shrubs, and trees, providing a feel reminiscent of home in the Southwestern U.S.

Once up on the plateau we approached the town of St. Remèze, passing through a series of farms, growing fine herbs for the fabled food of Provence. We then followed the road to the town of Vallon-Pont-d'Arc near the entry point to the main gorge, and a popular jumping off point for river trips. The road leaves Vallon-Pont-d'Arc, and traverses the northern boundary of the Gorges de l'Ardèche, providing a number of remarkable views (belvédères in the local parlance) of the gorge and river as it snakes towards the Rhône. One of the first belvédères encountered along the road provides a view of the Pont-d'Arc, a natural arch over the river. This was quite spectacular, particularly since the river was quite high because of the recent rains. The banks in many places were overflowing with water and a number of trees were partially submerged.

After leaving the river near Pont-d'Arc, the road climbs to a higher vantage overlooking the deeper parts of the canyon. One of the more spectacular viewpoints is the Belvédère d'Autridge, which provides an excellent view of the river and canyon. Because of the wide view of the canyon at this point, there was a group of conservationists scanning the area for eagles and taking data on sightings. They were in radio contact with other observers scattered among several of the other belvédères. Sharing this good position with the birders were several goats wandering about in search of food and entertainment.

Continuing on we stopped at several viewpoints, each one spectacular in its own way, eventually becoming supersaturated with magnificent views and a bit jaded. But fortunately our senses weren't completely dulled and we had enough enthusiasm left to appreciate what is, at least according to the green guide of Michelin, perhaps one of the best views along the route: the Balcon des Templiers along La Haute Corniche. This point overlooks a tight bend in the river and several meanders flanked by high, limestone cliffs. From a slightly different vantage point, you can look down on a peninsula of land thrust into the river bend and see the ruins of the leper hospital, Maladrerie des Templiers.

Orange

Orange rooftops

After leaving the gorges in late afternoon, we headed south along the Rhône Valley with the idea of finding a camping site to spend the night. The sky was clear and there was no hint of rain. We ended up finding a campground in the town of Mornas. Like most camp grounds we have seen in Europe, the setting was most suitable for "campers" and the accommodations were not exactly suited for tents. The most annoying aspect of the campgrounds is that there are no tables provided and the ground is usually a fairly hard surface, great for leveling a vehicle made of metal, but not so good for supporting a back. Nonetheless we settled in and headed to a local hotel restaurant for a spectacular 4 course French meal. If you're going to camp on hard ground in a tent, you should always soften it up with a good four course meal. At least that is our current opinion.

The weather may have started clear, but by morning it was raining, the tents were soaked, as were we by the time we got packed up. We hit the road after a brief , in the car, breakfast and headed for the town of Orange, well known for its Roman buildings. We passed a massive Roman arch on the road, but didn't stop as we hoped to make some time. However, we got trapped by the theater. We couldn't resist its charms, as it is reputedly the best preserved Roman theater in the world and is quite spectacular to visit, even in the rain. Although it is a ruin, it also houses a well known music festival every summer.

Avignon

From Orange, we headed to Avignon, one of the more majestic cities of Provence. We arrived late, spent a great deal of time finding a suitable place to park and decided to spend the next day site seeing. However, before we set off for the always enjoyable task of finding housing, we walked out on the Pont St.-Benézét, made famous in the song: Sur le pont d'Avignon l'on y danse tous en rond . Martha remembered the song from her 6 years of French lessons and sang it nostalgically, while sashaying along the cobblestone.

Gypsy Quarter of Avignon

The bridge itself is somewhat bizarre, as it only makes it half way across the Rhône before giving up the ghost. How come? Well it has a storied history, having been originally constructed during the 1100's, the result of a direct command from the heavens, at least as legend would have it, . The bridge was rebuilt several times, but in the 17th century was broken in half by the rampaging Rhône, apparently a somewhat unforgiving river. The portable electronic guide, given to all visitors who walk out on the Pont (after paying a suitable admission fee that is), discussed many legends involving the unfortunate travelers who fell into the Rhône off the Pont. Not us we hoped.

After our quick visit to the Pont and its view of Avignon, we set off to find housing and decided to go outside of Avignon, after suffering several near heart attacks by asking for the rates within the city proper. We were a bit worried about finding rooms, because we had been told that all of France had school vacation during this week and thought everything might be booked. Wrong, wrong, wrong!! Instead, all the hotels seemed to be closed; we were apparently in Provence after tourist season had ground to a halt. We drove around inquiring at every hotel we could find with no luck. Finally,we followed signs for a locale gîte (small cottage with cooking facilities) and found the owner outside talking with friends. No luck. She was closed, but fortunately friendly. She called a friend on a cell phone who ran a chambres d'hôtes (bed and breakfast). Luck. They had room to put us up. So, the madam of the gîtes jumped in her car and had us follow her to the chambres d'hôtes. Success. We had a very nice place to stay in Châteaurenard.

The next day we headed to Avignon for another round of exploration. We found a free parking spot, after wandering around

Detail Palais des Papes

for half an hour, getting turned around, confused and befuddled. The lot, near the Pte Thiers, was incredibly crowded, as would be expected for free parking in a very popular tourist town, even in off season, reminding Kirk of his youth growing up in Santa Fe.

We locked up the car and set out to explore, wandering around the streets in the general direction of the Palais des Papes. Old Avignon is a walled city, with several entry gates and very narrow streets. One of the first buildings we visited was the synagogue, which was quite old. The Rabbi explained the long history of Judaism in Avignon to us, which was quite fascinating, as the Jews had been protected for some time by the church during the inquisition.

After leaving the synagogue, we passed by the Église St-Pierre and its impressive entryway, constructed of two massive doors of finely carved, wooden Renaissance panels. Eventually we neared the Palais des Papes, entering a winding street, cut through rock partially forming the foundation of the Palais and exiting to face an impressive tromp l'oeil, which breaks the gray monotony of the building it adorns.

Now to the Palais des Papes. The Palais is literally the Palace of the Popes. Previously unknown to us, being ignorant of many of the details of early European history, Avignon had been the residence of the Popes during the 14th century, when the pontifical court had been forced from Italy. One result was the construction of the massive Palais, with its many rooms and art works. Our discovery of these facts also shed new light on why one well-known wine from this region is called Châteauneuf-du-Pape.

Upon finishing our tour of the Palais, we wandered around the city some more, with its many shops and restaurants, eventually finding our way to the Rocher des Domes, a beautiful garden located on top of a rock outcrop, situated adjacent to the Palais and within the confines of the wall. From here there were very good views across the Rhône of the walled city of Villâneuve-lès-Avignon, the "City of the Cardinals".

Les Baux

Catapult at Les Baux

After visiting Avignon, we still had some time left in the day. We took the opportunity to head south of Avignon, climbing some steep hills to visit Les Baux-de-Provence, an old castle and town sitting in ruins on top of a rock outcrop bounded by steep cliffs on all sides. We arrived quite late and debated whether or not to pay the entry fee, as the site closed in half an hour. However, as it turns out, you can stay on the site as long as you want, just so long as you enter before closing. After much gnashing of teeth, we decided to take the chance, pay the fee, and tour the site. Good decision. Les Baux is extremely beautiful, with grand views of the valley extending below towards the Mediterranean Sea (our ultimate goal). There were only 3 other people sharing the space and the sunset was magnificent.

Finally, we had to leave before it became too dark to see the edges of the cliffs, potentially a fatal state of affairs. We headed back to Châteaurenard with groceries to make a small dinner in our room. Our hosts, however, would have nothing of it. Charley and Collette insisted that we eat in the dining area. We stayed up for hours talking. Our hosts were very gregarious, especially Charley, who was fascinated by all things of the American west, not the stereotypical aloof Frenchmen at all.

Cassis

Cassis olives

After Les Baux and Avignon, we were starting to run out of time, but needed to reach the Mediterranean Sea. It had been our goal from the outset, but somehow we just hadn't gotten there yet. Now was the time.

For some reason we picked the small town of Cassis. We had heard, along the way, that it was a nice town, not as famous as other destinations along the French coast, but nice nonetheless. We left Châteaurenard and drove by Les Baux on the way towards Aix-en-Provence, skirting the Camargue, which is supposed to be a very interesting wetland complex. We had considered going to the Camargue instead of Cassis, but it is not supposed to be very nice during the Fall, especially after a period of rains like the area had recently experienced. Another attraction of Cassis was that it is the gateway to the Calanques, a series of limestone canyons leading into the Mediterranean Sea. We were somewhat burned out on culture and cities and were ready to spend some time hiking. The Calanques seemed to fit the bill.

We finally arrived in Cassis and found another Chambres d'hôtes, hoping to repeat our previous experience. This was not to be. The owners were pretty much all business, but the other guests made up for it in atmosphere. There was a French couple from Switzerland (there for the hiking), a German couple (rock climbing and both doctors), and a couple from Holland (site-seeing and hiking). We had a good time talking during breakfast, comparing notes of travels around and about.

Cassis itself is a relatively quaint, little fishing village that has not been destroyed by tourism, although it does attract its fair share of tourists. The fishing harbor sits in a bay bordered to the west by the Puget heights and to the east by Cap Canaille, a wooded escarpment. We took a nice walk in the evening along the waterfront and went for a short exploratory drive. At one point we were hiking along some rocks and tidal pools extending into the water and looked up to see a helicopter moving back and forth over the landscape. It seemed a bit odd, but on a closer look it was clear that there were booms hanging to the sides and the 'copter was spraying the village and surrounding countryside. We began to wonder what the French attitude was towards public exposure to toxic chemicals, especially having the fresh image of a nuclear power plant in mind from on the Rhône. We asked several folks over the next day, if they knew what the spray was for. We got several answers, none of which seemed quite right, until we asked the proprietor of a youth hostel, who said it was a spray campaign against tent caterpillars, which are plaguing the area.

Calanques

We reserved the day after arriving in Cassis for a hike in the Calanques, a series narrow, steep-sided, valleys, carved out of limestone. We parked the car just outside of Cassis at a trailhead that would allow us to do a round trip to one of the supposedly more beautiful calanques, Calanque d'En-Vau. We could then pass by two others, Calanque de Port-Pin and Calanque de Port-Miou, on the return.

Berries along the trail

The first task was to pick a route. We could either head up the Calanque de Port-Miou along the narrow valley floor and then climb to the ridge tops, eventually crossing over to Calanque d'En-Vau, or we could start by climbing to the top and then cross over on the high route. We chose the high route, hoping to make better time to Calanque d'En-Vau, our goal. We had been told to get to Calanque d'En-Vau as early as possible in the morning, since the sun only penetrates the narrow mouth of the calanque, warming the small beach, for a short period of time. As we climbed, we had a very good view of the harbor in Calanque de Port-Miou.

We were very lucky that the weather was completely clear for our hike; it had been raining for 5 days prior to our arrival, only to clear up completely the day before. The large number of plants in bloom and fruiting along the trail were most likely a testament to the recent weather patterns. The air was also redolent with the smell of wild rosemary and other herbs growing in the area. No wonder the French are masters of cooking with fine herbs.

Soon after starting our hike, we emerged onto a broad plateau of limestone speckled with gray-green vegetation. Many of the bushes were low lying stony scrub oaks whose leaves were similar to the scrub oak of California, brittle and protected by a waxy layer against drought. The oaks and other plants of the area are well adapted to survive the dry summer season. Because of the dry summer, the Calanques are quite susceptible to fires and it forbidden to hike in the area from the beginning of July to the end of September. We were lucky to be visiting in late October, when hiking is allowed.

The trail map we had was not too clear, so we stopped at a youth hostel that sat at the junction of several trails and asked for directions. The proprietor was quite friendly and told us a short cut to take for hiking down into Calanque-d'En-Vau. This was fortunate, because it saved us several kilometers and, as it turned out, we were the only party staying at the chambres d'hôtes that did not get lost on the trail that day. This would not be the case if we hadn't asked for directions. Let that be a lesson for all you macho mountaineers.

The next segment of the trail dropped down into the calanque. This was a beautiful little valley, again with lots of plants in bloom and in fruit. Many of the species weren't found higher up, as the canyon was quite well protected from the sun, making it a bit damper than above and more amenable to the wide variety of herbs, trees and bushes that we saw. This area may also be a bit more protected from fire.

We reached the beach around noon. The sun had already left, but we went for a dip anyway in the cool water. After a picnic lunch sitting on the rocks, we were ready to head back on the second half of our hike, but weren't completely sure what direction to head in. The trail head for the return was not readily apparent and it looked like the only way out, other than returning the way we had come, would be to scale the very steep canyon walls. Fortunately we saw a red and white trial blaze painted on the rock through the binoculars. We then easily found the trail head and decided to give it a try, agreeing to turn back if it became too steep to manage with two young children.

The trail was quite steep in spots, requiring some rock climbing to traverse some narrow passages, but affording a very nice view back to the crystal clear water of the Mediterranean Sea. We managed to make our way up the canyon wall, eventually finding the top. The trail was actually very well kept and marked, which was good as it would have been fairly dangerous to go off course.

Once at the top, there were great views towards Ile de Riou to the west and Cap Canaille to the east. The rest of the hike was quite easy, eventually leading us back to a view of an area of Calanque de Port-Moiu disfigured by a former rock quarry, which supplied stone used in building the Suez Canal and the Statue of Liberty.

Rapid Return

After our day in the Calanques, we were running out of time and had to hightail it back to Leipzig for the start of school. We took a somewhat slow route the first day as we couldn't quite give up the addiction of sight seeing. We passed through some nice countryside, but could only stop for a second here and there; definitely no time to hike around.

Fleeting glimpse of Sisterone
(on the way home...)

On a tip, we left Cassis and drove to the small town of Gémenos, which is a major entry point to the Massif de la Ste-Baume, the most extensive and highest mountain range in Provence. From there we took a small mountain road over the range, passing by an interesting complex of buildings in the middle of nowhere. There was no time to snap a photo, no time to get out and explore, but we quickly read through our Michelin guide to find out, 4 km later, that we had just seen L'Hotellerie, a rest house for a very famous pilgrimage site, the Ste-Baume grotto, which was where Mary Magdalene lived her last 33 years. It would have been interesting to visit, but no time, no time.......

We dropped down off the massif into the small town of Nans-les-Pins, where we had lunch in the town square, then it was back in the car. We took the smaller, two lane roads to the Durance River valley, paralleling the river. Here, we passed by (again at speed) a very interesting rock formation, the Rocher des Mées. We eventually left the river valley heading to Gap as our approach to the Swiss Alps. The mountains were near the peak of fall coloration in places, but the beauty was diminished by a thick haze, produced in part because of the large number of small fires that seemed to be burning everywhere in the countryside.

We spent the night in the small town of Lafferey, in a hotel situated next to a lake. The next day it was back into the car, through more haze, and into Switzerland, passing by Lac Leman for a lunch break. We overnighted with our friends in Zurich and straggled into Leipzig the next day, after a couple of German Staus (naturally).