More of the same

Another lovely day... We are being spoiled. Either that or we're going to pay for it with rain and storm! For now, everyone is enjoying the Indian Summer.
We were at the market by 9 for some reason and having breakfast at the Bar before someof the stalls had fully set up!

Too nice to sit indoors and the terrace is not sunny at this time of the year so Séguret beckoned. It's a good walk, not too strenuous but long enough to be worthwhile doing. And on the way you get interesting flora, wild and cultivated. I'm not brilliant at identifying the wild but I do know a good Yucca when I see one. They are deffo the plant of the moment. These were in a garden next to an olive tree and the pink of the buds matched the ripening olives most pleasingly.

Less aesthetic and, frankly, a bit odd, was the window display in the tearooms (or should that be twee rooms?). I mean, knitted cakes! Cleverly done, but Bake Off, it ain't. The Great Gallic Cast-Off perhaps.

Sensory overload

Once more unto the valley of the Toulourenc, that sparkly little river that tumbles down behind Ventoux with gorges we sometimes walk up- only in summer! Yesterday we looked down on it but moved on higher up the valley. Today we concentrated on the wide bowl between Mollans and Veaux.

You can walk round pretty much the whole of this in a couple of hours, which is what we did. It was hot and we wished we hadn't been so feeble and worn shorts instead of jeans. But come on now, it IS the end of October... It wasn't exactly quiet either. Down at the bottom was a camper van belting out what I believe is known as Techno music. Actually not bad from a distance! Then the hunters started shooting across the valley, and a huge delta wing jet suddenly zoomed over the crest of the mountain at full throttle. But the colours and patterns of the olives and vines took your mind off all this. It really is an exceptional year.

We followed the river part of the way back. It was splashing happily on its way and sparkling like silver behind the trees. In summer you can't move for cars by the bridge because everyone takes their picnics up stream to sit on rocks in the gorges. Today, though, there was no one.

After a sandwich in Malaucène, basking in ridiculous temperatures, we mosied on home via the back of the Dentelles, making a detour at Suzette (which still has no crêperie!) up a track towards a summit that Adrian wants to walk to one day.  On the way the road passd by houses with jaw dropping views, one of which had a garden full of yucca gloriosa - a profusion of exotic loveliness.

More pix on flickr.

Too bright

Weather has realised the error its ways and has decided not to rain. Hurrah! Dazzling blue skies tempt us to the north of Ventoux. We chickened out from going to the top, because we were sure up there it would be chilly. So in the balmy heat of the Toulourenc valley we gazed up at his greatness and snapped his backside. Sorry about prisms but the sun was on full power.

As usual on this route we had to go to Brantes, the village that scrambles up the cliff opposite. It's a nice place with paved and steep lanes, pretty gardens and a café that says it is open every day but which quite definitely ISN'T. We've tried twice recently and it remains resolutely shut, which is a pity as it sits right on the edge with the best views. We did once, or even twice, have a drink there in the past.



The road proceeds to a junction some kms up the road. Right to Sault but sign saying Route Barrée. Left to Montbrun les bains which is visible clinging to its hillside in the sun. We go left. Not our first visit but we haven't been since buying the house. 12 Noon had struck, so it was scoff time. Found a small restaurant with passable lunch and baked ourselves in the sun before taking a walk up into the old town, well village really.

The church interior was a strange mixture of ornate and plain with what seemed to be modern paint effects on the walls. But also some pretty glass in an upstairs gallery. A ladder lead from there up into the bell tower and I was half way up when I noticed just how much woodworm was in it. A hasty downward retreat!

Over the rainbow

Séguret from the terrace 4pm

Rugging up for winter

The rain is on its way, but not quite here. This morning the air is soft and warm, not a breath of wind, and the sky is  a mass of thick wadded clouds, like a giant duvet wrapping us up. We went across the plain a little way to the Distillerie - an unlovely heap of metal buildings on the roundabout between Violès and Rasteau. Why? I hear you cry. Ah well... First off these places are Interesting. Things go on in them. Things are produced. And I like that. Also, last time we passed we noticed it had signs saying they sold stuff. This is new- hitherto it has seemed shut and unwelcoming to visitors.

We parked in front of the round edifice that had obviously recently been restored and skirted passed the weighbridge, avoiding a trailer of purple grape pulp that had just driven in. Inside the spanking new interior all was sparkly and bright with a little history of the distillery and an old mobile still, and examples of their wares. Very simple and nicely done. Amongst other things they produce grapeseed oil, vinegar, liqueurs, marc. The tank itself had originally been intended to store fuel for the nearby American airbase during the war and was then sold to the distillery. Hope they washed it out thoroughly! Don't worry, I don't think it was ever used.

The way back was through the many lanes on the plain, looking back towards the hills or forwards to the Rhone. Either way it was grey but with a tapestry carpet of red, russet, orange and yellow vines.
Only one thing for it now- lunch at Roaix in the As de coeur café. Great as always. Too many delicious choices for main course - boeuf bourguignon, aligot, civet de porc. Aftaid I am doomed in WHO terms as I had Aligot, which came with two big sausages!

It was just too nice to come straight home so we pottered about by the river at the old railway bridge. These wild blue and pink convulvulous were such a surprise. Aren't they pretty.

Down across the divide between Gigondas snd Vaqueyras there is a hidden slope that runs down to the river. And it is a maze of lanes and vineyards among which you suddenly come upon this enormous repository of old earth moving vehicles. They are vast, there are loads of them, ranging from elevators, cranes to mega diggers. One trailer is sitting there with what looks like half a bridge parapet on it!

Actually, we have been passed here a number of times, but I haven't ever plucked up the courage to photograph it before because it looks like the sort of place a big man with tattoos and chains might issue forth from menacingly!

Back on the terrace I was tending my plants when this exotic waspy creature caught my eye. At first I thought it was up to no good and doing evil things to my oleander. But on reflexion, I suspect that it, too, is snuggling up somewhere sheltered and cosy for winter. Anyone know what it is?

Les Baronnies

Another warm sunny day, but hazy clouds are gathering. We had to see Buis before it all ends! But first, en route, a little detour up a rocky outcrop to Propiac le Vieux. We passed this way about eight years ago to look at the extraordinary tower perched on top and to our amazement a man beckoned us in. He was in the process of restoring this pile himself and was keen to show off his handiwork. He spoke some English as his daughter lived in Scotland! Wow and triple wow...inside the walls he'd not only refurbished the tower but had also put in an infinity pool right on the edge. Impressive. You could swim to Ventoux.

So  eight years on, we  thought we'd check on progress, and it looks like he's getting on well. And you can see just how lovely the vines are at this time of year. Every hillside is a tapestry of gold and bronze.

Lunch ( just plat de jour) at the Bar des Cigales in Buis -  outside. Almost too hot! We were somewhat agreeably surprised to find that the wine they serve is Visan. And only €2.50  for a 20cl glass. Then a quick trip up the hills to look at the olive groves and the Ouvèze. Our local river is a small mountain stream at this point and very pretty.

They've put a Viaferrata round the big rock above Buis. It's free and there are degrees of difficulty ranging from ' kids ' to 'casse-cul'. There is no polite way to translate this, it's basically 'arse-breaking'! But Adrian is not tempted to have a go. He says his rock climbing days are over

Under the bridge by the Ouvèze is this strange
graffitied Spanish motto. There is no substitute for Perseverance. The world is full of frustrated intellectuals and only attitude and patience will achieve everything.

So there!

Le weekend

rugby. Say no more. We hosted Liz and Keith both evenings in front of our pitifully small telly so they could share the English language commentary. Adrian did Cottage Pie yesterday and it's round to theirs tonight for rabbit. I am being brave!
As for the daylight hours, well it was Ste Cécile yesterday and Rasteau walk today. Lovely and warm. But today there were PEOPLE... not many, just a couple of joggers and their collie dogs (the nice shaggy wolf-like ones). The mine-canary roses were flowering as freshly and brightly as in summer and all looked quite glorious.

I fear Argentina will lose. Two tries to Aus already. We all decided that we'd support Argentina now there are no UK teams left! So here is another view of the Mur de la Peste.

Plague and pestilence

It might be the last chance for a long day out. Clocks go somewhere on Sunday morning and storms are forecast for Wednesday to be followed by rain rain rain for days. However today we had blue, sun and heat. A trip to the other side of Ventoux to explore the Mur de la Peste. This took us through the hills and the most glorious palette of bright orange, yellow, red and purple autumn leaves. Really so fabulous and impossible to do justice in photos. All with a backdrop of white limestone and dark conifers.

Eventually we wiggled up to the other side of the Gorges de la Nesque above Monieux and pottered off along the GR51 in search of the legendary Mur de la Peste.

This wall was built in 1721 during a terrible plague in southern France when over a thousand  soldiers were dispatched up the mountain to stack stones and earth into a wall along 25 km of the boundary between Provence and the Comtat Venaissin to keep the Plague out of the Comtat. They even had look out shelters where they could mount guard. In the end the wall was used in reverse, to protect Provence, because the pestilence somehow got into Avignon!

Super walk, super views.

On Safari

Up and off by 8 am to the Camargue. But first, a tale from yesterday afternoon. As it was so lovely and we wanted to stay in the sun we set off again down to the Ouvèze outside Entrechaux. There's a pleasant Botanical Trail right by the river and we've never properly investigated it. So there I was drinking in the colours and the sound of rushing water when I heard what sounded like someone falling out of a tree. A real crashing. Then out of the undergrowth  in front of me sprinted a wild boar heading down the track at some speed. All grey and woolly! We'd heard some shots from across the river so think the poor creature must have swum across to escape.

Back to today. After breakfast of coffee and croissants in Graveson we went directly to the Camargue without so much as glance at Arles this time. The best and wildest parts are on the east side of the main étang where the minor roads hug the water's edge. Loads of birds on and off the water. And such long vistas of empty marsh and reedbed and water. Great.

The target was a lighthouse - of course! One that required a LONG walk along the sea dyke at the southern end. So we didn't dither too long en route. Having left the car at one end of the track we set off down the white gravel with a pinprick of a building just visible in the distance. It was sunny but windy. And the wind was blowing right at us...

But so beautiful. The colours of the vegetation seemed unfeasibly pink and gold, the sky too blue, and those weird, unreal clouds like you see in Renaissance Italian paintings. They actually
do exist!

Flamingoes, naturally, loads of them. This is the only nesting site in France. And we heard curlews, saw white herons, great crested grebe, velvet scoters in their droves, and A Snake. It slithered darkly across our path, too quickly for me to get out my camera!

After an hour the lighthouse was in sight. We then realised we could have driven much closer! But we'd have missed all the things on the walk if we had. Well that's how we consoled ourselves as we set off in reverse for the return hour's trek.

Too late for lunch but we managed to get goat's cheese, and Camembert sandwiches in Port St Louis across the Rhône. To get there we had to take the chain ferry from Salins de Giraud. All of 5 euros - the only crossing on the whole of this east side. No bridges. That's what keeps the area safe.
There are more photos on flickr

Dentelles

We have neglected the Dentelles this year so today we paid a return visit. It was warm, no wind to speak of, and sunny. Good walk up to the ridge.

That is if you could find the path... I scrambled up a scree slope to one ledge but Adrian found a track up to another! We were calling to each other across the gulf like Running Bear and Little White Dove.

While I was waiting for him to cross the Great Divide (hoping he didn't do a Nigel Pargetter) I took this snap of Sablet below with my new snazzy telephoto lens. Can't see our house though.

Not a long walk in distance but quite a bit in time so we felt it justified a sandwich at the bar in the sun. Bruno gave us free chips- what more could you ask for!

Mornas

We went to Piolenc (home of garlic) in search of garlic but found none. That is none except some imported from Argentina! WTF?! ... Actually that isn't quite true. We did find some lovely local violet ones in a shop but Adrian wanted ones with leaves on and these had been cleaned up. Humph! The search goes on.

Spotted these great shutters as we trudged the windy streets.















Being down on the N7 we took advantage and scooted off under the motorway and TGV line to the secret flatlands by the river. Unfortunately this time our route was barred by gravel pits, several of which had been turned into fishing lakes. Nevertheless it was a good brisk walk round them, sheltered for the most part from the wind by the trees. Saw cormorants but not much else. The reeds were dramatically beautiful.

Lunchtime. A little bar in Mornas we've been to before with food cooked in a tiny kitchen by a very expert young lady. Steak and chips guaranteed. Delicious and totally unpretentious. Mornas is that ancient village huddled at the base of a vast rock on top of which is a ruined fortress. We went there earlier in the year. It's a wonderful mishmash of ancient and new, all packed together with a railway line running between it and the rock - the N7 in front and beyond that the A7 and the TGV line. Mad.

Wall of cloud

We should have headed West... It was sunny in Sablet and we reckoned it must be likewise over Bédoin way  to the East, where market is to be found of a Monday. Not that we needed anything but we haven't been over there for a while. You know how it is! Anyway no sooner had we rounded the bend outside Beaumes than we hit a wall of Low Cloud. And this did not get any the less as we proceeded round the flanks of Ventoux.
But we were committed by this stage so stoically motored on and got to Bédoin in time for a wander and the odd purchase - fresh new vivid green Picholine olives from Maussane and a barquette of vegetable noodles from the Thai stall for supper.

As we were there we felt we really should do SOMETHING. There are some strange outcrops of ochre samdstone hidden away on the slopes known as Les Demoiselles Coiffées (ladies with headresses/hats). Not exactly signed, but we have maps!






They're actually outside a village called Les Baux (not the famous one). We looked a house there but decided against it for a variety of reasons, one of which being it was right next to a sub station AND pizzeria. Another being the estate agent wanted us to pay part of the price 'sous la table' in cash to reduce the fees!

The Demoiselles were tracked down, largely thanks to a give-away road name - Le Chemin des Demoiselles Coiffées (Duh). And quite soectacular they are in a weird way. Like a giant sand pit built for The Clangers. Easy to imagine the Soup Dragon popping up, especially as it was by now lunchtime.

Upcycling

We now have a new item of furniture in top room thanks to dear kind Louise! The other day at her place I happened to mention this piece - where had she found it etc? Next thing I know it is being donated as otherwuse it would have been chopped up for firewood! We are glad of any crumbs. And it does improve the room.

Not ventured out yet this morning after yesterday's rout by the All Blacks. I expect the bar to be draped in black crêpe. Bruno had of course anticipated this result but his clients might not have.

Anglo-French

Goodness it was a cold morning.Only 6.2 on the terrace! But sunny and bright. So after some thought we went off to Carpentras for a stroll round the market and a bit of multiculture. It has been mentioned before in these pages- we like Carpentras. It has identity and some style despite odd spots of grot. The civic beautification continues apace. More grand buildings have been restored, the wonderful Coulée Verte carpark is flourishing and the rail link to Avignon is in operation. The market is just an excuse really. We didn't buy anything except figs. Yes, figs, and local ones too. However you could be excused from wondering whether it was Carpentras or Leicester at times what with all the union jack handbags and cushion covers on some stalls. And two young ladies intently discussing le Prince William. Not much fresh coriander in evidence today. Usually the North African stalls under the tower gateway are laden, but there was no one there this morning.

Main purpose of visit...hot chocolate chez Jouvaud! As you know, Jouvaud is a pâtisserie/chocolatier/salon de thé of some class. They do metre long pâte feuilletée strips of delectable savoury and sweet tartes, cakes, pastries, chocolats (70 € a kilo), and the best hot chocolate around. Spoon supporting consistency. Their window display is always original and they sell objets de décoration as well.

So after our tour of inspection round the town it was time to indulge. As we sat down we became aware of a strangely familiar song coming over the in house music system...We are the Champions. And it continued with the whole of the Queen Greatest Hits album! Not intrusive, and curiously soothing as we drank along to Radio Gaga et al.  Somewhat incongruous, though,  in this elegant establishment.

Passage Boyer is a gine 19th century arcade by the Hôtel de Ville and today they had included a display fitting the recent weather. Lots of upturned umbrellas hanging from the glazed roof.








Anyway, our English theme continues. Baked beans on toast for lunch and the final Fish et Chips of the season (probably) tonight at the Bar.

Dentelles stroll

Less than five mins' drive towards Gigondas you take a lane to the left leading up into the hillside, signed to Chocolaterie Lencieux. Unlikely but true. We have never found the establishment to be open despite it having quite a large parking area. Maybe it's just open in the summer, when we don't go. Before you reach this outpost of confectionery you pass a couple of big Chambres d'Hôtes and the hunt kennels with compounds of rather beautiful pale speckled dogs with long floppy brown ears, lazing in the sun or snuffling in the trees. Awaiting their call to arms. We've come across them in action occasionally, trotting through the woods sniffing out their quarry, always announced by the dinging of the bells round their neck. Always too intent on their quest to stop for a chat.

The road gives out by a vast complex of farm buildings in the middle of the vines and from there you are free to roam the waymarked trail leading ...well, who knows. We only went a short distance! Lovely olives full of tiny olive-coloured birds. The olive tree warbler perhaps.