Méthamis

 After staying indoors for the better part of two weeks, and with no water, it was time to get back out onto the trails. The daytime temperatures finally rose above freezing, and the ground still showed evidence of the snow that had fallen a week before. The photo below highlights the absolute rarity of snow in the region, below a patch of cactus-pears.

I began the walk outside the lost village of Méthamis, completely off the tourist radar (not that it really matters this time of year), huddled at the foothills of Mont Ventoux. Ontop of Ventoux you see bare limestone and not snow, even though the temperatures hovered around -30°C at the summit last week. It's the problem with Ventoux in the winter: it's cold enough to snow but there's hardly any precipitation...   

The vines below the village of Méthamis:

Most of the day's walk was on a snow-laden path as I climbed up to the pass at about 620m.

The village of Méthamis upon return:

A Cold Winter's hike

 Day 9 of no running water at home and of freezing temperatures. Rather than stay at the apartment and stare at the faucets, praying for the thaw, I decided to go hiking near the village of Fontaine de Vaucluse.  Even the day temperatures are below zero...

And even as low as 300m in altitude there's snow on the ground...

 And what's supposed to be a spring in the mountains has frozen for the time being...

 The rotting sqaush on the side of the hiking paths, placed by the hunters awaiting the wild boar (not really fair, is it?).

 Once up on the plateaus you can see part of the 300 year-old plague wall (far background), built in 1720 when the plague last reached Provence, to keep the sickness out of the region. 

COLD!!!

A coldspell has taken over, and it's hardly justified to complain about sub-zero temperatures in Provence when other regions of Europe have been hit much harder. But I'll complain nonetheless. This sucks. We've been without water now for 5 days, Provençal plumbing insufficient for this type of cold. It's amazing how easy it is to take water for granted, and how stuck you are without it. Pipes in the region have frozen, others have burst. In 1956 and in 1986 the region suffered a similarly cold winter, so this happens every 30 years or so. 

You may (if the you in question is Canadian) scoff at complaints of -5°C or -10°C. And so would I. But the Mistral! The northern Mistral winds have been howling at 100km/h, piercing any number of layers of clothing you may be wearing, sending the "feels like" temperature to levels that are keeping even a hardened  and hearty Canadian such as myself indoors.    

Below and above a waterwheel in the centre of Avignon, glazed with an icy coat.  

In the centre of Avignon...