The season's first hikes came this past weekend, in the Luberon mountains. On Saturday I was in Roussillon, a perched medieval town -- they're all "perched medieval towns" really -- but this one is different, I promise: set next to the world's largest ochre deposit (I'll spare you the geological details, which don't flow of my tongue anyway), its homes are painted with the various hues of yellows, oranges, and reds that have been quarried here for centuries. It's a sharp contrast from the austere-yet-equally-majestic grey stone villages that sprinkle the rest of the countryside.
Below is a shot of the village, taken from beside the quarry, the best vantage point:
The village itself is quite touristy, but you can find the odd side-street or narrow passageway that's shop-free, and thus tourist free. I have the luxury of doing these hikes in the winter and early spring, avoiding the mass tourist season and benefiting from gloriously crisp skies...
I'm a sucker for Provençal shutters:
One of the natural ochre cliffs set beside the village:
I've been to the village at least 20 times, and this little narrow passageway never ceases to amaze me. I could spend hours here, trying to wait for the right light and angle to take the picture (that I've taken a hundred times) that will finally do it justice: but it never seems to work out. My excuse remains that a picture can never really capture the experience. But in reality I need to learn to wield my experience-capturing-device with better mastery...
Here's the ochre quarry, set less than 100m from the village; for 2€ you can meander through a well-kept path through the abandoned quarry, complete with explanatory panels. Better yet, go in the middle of winter when it's closed, hop over the fence, and have the whole thing to yourself. I didn't manage to get there on Saturday, but went on a 8km hike around the neighbouring countryside.
I began my hike in Roussillon itself, heading on the ochre soils that surround the village:
Not really paying attention to my footing, constantly looking at my camera, and just after taking the shot below, I managed to fall off a 15-foot cliff. No harm done: ochre soils are soft, and despite being 20 pounds above my fighting weight, I was able to spring out of the dirt with a surprising show of agility, fearing more for my camera -- which was slightly damaged -- than for myself...
My experience the following day would prove scarier...
