I guided the following walking holiday for Peregrine Adventures: 3 days in the Luberon mountains and 3 days around Vaison la Romaine, just north of Mont Ventoux.
Our journey begins in the village of Bonnieux, nestled in the heart of the Luberon mountains. The spring has already been one of the hottest ever recorded and today is no exception: it's still the month of May but the temperatures are that of the middle of the summer, in the mid 30s.
We seek refuge in a "borie" for lunch: a centuries-old dry stone hut used to house tools and for shelter. The thick limestone walls keep the inside cool in the summer, and we stay at length to escape the midday heat.
After two years of walking through all kinds of terrain, and under 200 pounds of constant pressure, my sandals finally give way, ripping in three places at once. A good laugh is had at the expense of the guide (though laughing with, and not at me)...
I provide entertainment but also accept pity: Pierre takes out some electrical tape from his bag
and I wrap the sandal back together. It would hold about an hour, and I would spend the next two weeks walking in them...
The May poppies along an old stone wall, just outside the town of Buoux (pronounced "Pukes", but with a B -- that way you don't forget).
No sandals needed in here! At the end of the first day's walk we arrive at the Auberge des Seguins, hidden in the far depths of the Luberon, for a 3-night stay. The pool is only 18° or so, but after a hot day in the Provençal sun, the cold waters are more than soothing.
On Tuesday the temperature climbs again. We begin our walk in the town of Gordes, listed as one of the "most beautiful villages in France".
Though the village itself is busy with shops and tourists -- Gordes has become a victim of its beauty and popularity -- we approach it from afar, through its ancient, quiet, and timeless cobbled streets. And once we leave town by foot, along its stony paths and toward the famed 12th century Sénanque Abbey, we don't see a soul. A total absense of people. And this can be explained in two ways: 1) few travellers venture far from the heart of this village, or any other Provençal village for that matter, which is why it's so important to stray from the well-trodden tourist path. And 2) it's hot enough to stay inside, lay naked on a ceramic tiled floor, and with all the fans on full-blast, or air-conditioning if you're lucky to have it...
But my hearty group of Aussies (and Ainslie the Kiwi), used to the heat (except maybe for Ainslie the Kiwi), is ready to take on all challenges....
Bernie takin' it easy at the town square in Gordes:
And Wednesday is even hotter. We leave the auberge early, and climbing up the Luberon mountains we get a soothing breeze, the northeren Mistral winds that make an untolerably hot day somewhat tolerable.
Ainslie the Kiwi seeks midday shade after lunch:
Back at the auberge, lounging by the pool, and slipping in and out of a sieste, a butterfly lands on my shoulder. Then my knee, then on my head, then on my back. It flutters off to a nearby tree and promptly returns with a friend, and both dance circles around each other and around me, taking breaks to land on my body, and this for about 15 minutes (I'm easily amused on my long and lonely guiding expeditions...)
We begin Thursday with an unplanned visit to the village of Lacoste, perched in the Luberon. It must be said that my spontaneous decision to stop here was spurred by sadism. The Marquis de Sade, that is. Three days previous, driving to the start of our first walk, I had pointed out the town of Lacoste, mentioning the ruins of Sade's castle. Much interest ensued: talks of whips and beatings and of "40 days of Sodom", one of Sade's works I recommended -- in jest of course.
Sade's castle, overhanging a labyrinth of cobbled streets in the old village. I highly recommend visiting Lacoste: off the beaten tourist path, and a magical collection of village homes packed in a tight bundle, winding up to the castle.
In Lacoste:
We arrive in Vaison la Romaine after a short walk, and at dinner on a terrace we enjoy a spectacular sunset:
On Friday morning Pierre and Catherine prepare for their ascension of Mont Ventoux. It's not planned on the Peregrine itinerary: today is actually a day off to explore the town and take a break from walking. But why stay in town when you can climb Provence's highest mountain, and in the bad weather!?
Yes, bad weather: the accumulation of heat over the week is often a build-up for the rains, and today is no exception. The air is cool at our starting point, at the sort-of-ski-resort of Mont Serein. At 1400m the temperature is 11°C, a drop of more than 20 degrees from yesterday's walk.
Pierre looking down Ventoux's northern slope, as the clouds become more ominous:
The last 45 minutes of the climb are through the scree, under the rains and Ventoux's ever-present winds.
At the summit, now 8°C in the rains and in the strong winds, we seek refuge in the chapelle Sainte Croix for lunch. In the photo below, after an emotional climb, Janice is relieved to escape the harsh winds at the summit.
In the evening I organise a wine and cheese dinner, where we enjoy some of the region's best wines and stinkiest (and therefore best) cheeses. We are to have a reading this evening: unbeknownst to me, keen after a visit to Lacoste and after much discussion and laughter, Pierre found and downloaded --on his "Kindle" -- the aforementioned work of the Marquis de Sade. The actual title turned out to be 120 days of Sodom, not the "40 days" I had previously evoked. This made Pierre's search for the work more difficult, but he found it nonetheless. But what he found he deemed unsuitable for any audience, not one of the 120 days acceptable to share aloud, and so Pierre left it to our discretion, and in our own free time, to read the Marquis' work.
At breakfast, an Aussie is caught (not mentioning any names, Bernie) with a tube of Vegemite, which according to most Australians tastes good, and cures several ailments, including some forms of cancer.
Our last walk, on Saturday, begins in the town of Séguret, surprisingly quiet. We take advantage of this, exploring the town at length and at a slow pace.
Pierre and his almost-beret admiring the old clocktower:
And Catherine admiring a sea of vines: the Rhône Valley.
A group photo at the crest of the Luberon, on the rounded pastures parched by the sun, fresh even after a 500m climb. Thanks to Pierre, Catherine, Ainslie, Roz, Bernie, and Janice for a wonderful week...
