The western edge of the Luberon

Feeling somewhat masochistic in today's 30°+ summer heat, and in the middle of the afternoon to boot, I went on a short hike in the Luberon, starting in the village of Taillades, not far from Cavaillon. This is the westernmost point of the Luberon, where the limestone is sheer and jagged, and where the paths cut through narrow gorges and hover above imposing cliffs.

Below, I'm admiring the narrow path leading up the tightly encased valley:


The only sportif section of the hike: a small ladder bolted into the limestone, helping hikers negotiate a small limestone wall...


And once above the pass the views are spectacular, while the hiking path, nestled at the foot of the sheer cliff to the right of the picture, hovers on a ledge high above the plains:


A better look at the path. Not much room for error on this hike!


The path led from Taillades to the village of Robion.
Walking back to Taillades, too exhausted from the heat to attempt a return via the mountain slopes, I chose lost country roads. Back in the plains, catching my breath and wringing out my cotton t-shirt, I was able to admire the impressive cliffs from the plains, with a foreground of vineyards, olive groves, and lone farmers' huts:


The cicadas in full song, with a view of the Luberon in the background:

Ventoux

I was up in Mont Ventoux yesterday, hiking in Provence's highest mountain. While the summer heat was scorching the plains, the air in the mountains was fresh and relatively cool, with Ventoux's perma-cloud looming over the summit. Below is a shot taken on the steep northern slopes:

Late June is a wonderful time for mountain flowers near Ventoux's peak, and below is a compilation of shots taken just yesterday. In the center is the Greenland poppy, found only in two places on Earth: the Spitzberg islands in the Arctic circle, and the summit of Mont Ventoux.

Ventoux, from base to summit, has everything from Mediterranean brush and herbs all the way to the artic flowers that carpet the summit.

A healthy population of chamois live in Ventoux: about 500 of them altogether. Their natural habitat is on the steep rocky slopes, where they can escape prey with their impressive sprints uphill. Only about waist-high, but with a heart twice the volume of a human's, a chamois can gain 1000m (3300ft) in altitude in less than 15 minutes. But not fast enough to avoid my camera lens!!

800m from the summit, waiting eagerly at the side of the road, a photographer takes hundreds of shots of cyclists per day on their final ascent of Ventoux, hands them business cards, and hopes to sell the pictures via the internet...

My picnic spot after having reached the summit:

Heading back towards the Mont Serein campground, crossing impressive rockslides:

And back into the beech forest, just before the end of the day's hike...

Gordes

Gordes: One of the most beautiful villages in France. At least that's what its label says: one of about 150 villages in France, chosen based on their authenticity, beauty, and cultural/historical interests. I would argue the first point, but it doesn't really matter: the village is beautiful indeed.

But here's a warning: approach it from afar, like from the vantage point below, seeing the village in its medieval light, far from the tourist hordes (and believe me -- today was a Sunday in June -- and the village was packed). Observe how the houses are built in concentric circles, rising dizzyingly above the Calavon plains, and up to the church at the summit. To be more precise, it's the renaissance castle that sits at the summit, not the church; but the castle is partially blocked in this view, though you can make out its upper left side...


Now walk down to the very bottom of the village, where there are no stores, and thus no tourists (a chicken and egg conundrum: do the stores bring the tourists or do the tourists bring the stores?).

Beautiful sets of cobbled steps lead from the very base of the village to its summit, complete with old archways and centuries-old buildings.



Just before making it to the top...


...where I stayed all of two minutes before beginning the day's walk, a 10km loop to see the famed Sénanque Abbey. One needs only 10 minutes of walking past the village centre to lose the crowds, and be among landscapes like the one below, a picture taken before my descent into the Sénancole Valley, where the monks chose to build their abbey...


... where I arrived after about 90 minutes of walking, and found the crowds once again. The lavender fields in front of the abbey were not quite in total bloom, and so unfortunately no photos here...
From the abbey the GR (grande randonnée) path is hidden, and takes someone who knows to find it. It climbs steadily above the abbey, where you get some great aerial views, and then reaches the pass that joins the village of Gordes. But no roads for me!: another path descends alongside dry-stone walls and huts, and leads back to the village.

A great walk. Highly recommended!



Gotcha!!

A walk in the Luberon

Last Wednesday I found myself at the western edge of the Luberon mountains for a short but beautiful walk. The limestone cliffs are jagged and sheer at this end, unlike the rounded mounds farther east along the range. In the photo below, just before arriving in the village of Oppède le Vieux, the day's last rays of sunshine play with the leaves of a fig tree, while an olive grove in the foreground points the way to the vast Rhône Valley.

I managed to spot a roe deer during this walk, only the second time spotting one in the wild...

The village of Oppède le Vieux and its imposing entrance gate. From here the ruins of the village rise among the ruins of cobbled streets, and up to the ruins of the castle, perched dizzyingly above a sheer drop. No shops or tourist attractions: just an old Provençal village at its best...

Waymarks on a tree leading back from Oppède le Vieux on a centuries-old cobbled path. The walk itself was about 2 hours long, linking the picturesque villages of Maubec and Oppède le Vieux. Highly recommendeed!

Breaking News Story: the French Aquire Sense of Humour

On the famed TGV speed train, a "controleur" displays one of his many magic tricks with elated passengers. Before heading into the next wagon, we would see him make balloon poodles for smiling children, and scare a passenger by opening a wallet which would engulf in flames...

Defeated by Ventoux

It all started with a phone call. We (Walk Inn) had forgotten to equip bikes with computers for a group of Australians who began a self-guided tour of Provence today. And so after a day at the office I set off to the foot of Mont Ventoux, an hour's drive from Avignon, where the group had arrived after their first day's ride. Our famed and unbeatable Road Book led them easily to their destination, despite missing their computers...

Feeling quite masochistic today, I decided to bring my bike along, and test my legs on the dreaded climb up Ventoux. Too far above my fighting weight, and not having trained for years, I still managed 50 minutes, at a whopping average of about 8km/h (yes, you can easily run faster than that -- or even power walk), and encouraged by the spray-painted encouragements of last year's Tour de France: "Last Chance Lance", or perhaps the giant spray-painted phallus, all before throwing in the towel -- and my entire body -- disgracefully upon a tuft of savoury (an herbe de Provence) on the side of the road.


Near the base of the descent, with the evening sun hidden behind the clouds, a sea of vineyards and orchards extending toward the Rhône Valley.



A portion of the descent: don't try this at home kids...

Scandinavians in Provence

I can't say I had the best of guiding weeks; then again, I can't really say that I guided: I spent my week trailing 16 Swedes and Norwegians in a support vehicle, listening to terrible French radio stations, at speeds of about 10 to 15km/h. They already had their guide -- Magnus -- a veteran who's guided all over the world, mostly for cultural tours. My job was more a logistical one: fixing flat tires, repairing bikes, handing out water, preparing picnic lunches...

An example of a picnic lunch, set under the shade of an olive tree in the town of Roquemaure, across the Rhône river from Chateauneuf du Pape.


I managed to snap this shot below with the group in motion. I have to admit I placed the rosé there myself: the Scandinavians are too well-mannered to attempt such behaviour on their own...

Though the driving was tedious terribly boring, it was interesting chatting with the guests, whose world views, experiences, and cultural differences made for great conversion (in English of course: my Swedish is still rather limited).