The colourful seafront façades in Villefranche sur Mer:
The "Rue Obscure": obscure both in its French meaning -- dark -- and in its English one, too.
Waiting for the group to arrive I had what was probably the best Salade Niçoise I've ever tasted, almost too pretty to eat (and as good as it was pretty).
We had originally planned to meet at 6pm but mother nature had planned bad weather for the next few days. And so I arranged for us to meet earlier, at 2pm, and lead an unscripted walk while the weather was still clement. And with the wonders of modern-day communications, even with a group composed of people from all over the planet, and some in transit, I was able to contact all but one, and with a bit of added luck, the one in question arrived just before 2pm anyways, and was able join as well.
Within the first 15 minutes of walking we had what would prove to be the only incident of the week: Jackie decided to leave a trace of her passage along the Nietzsche trail...
... but responded positively to treatments of red wine:
Our goal was the perched villages of Eze, hanging on its rocky spur some 400m above sea level.
And here's the view from the very top of the village, looking down towards the Mediterranean. To the right of the scene is Saint Jean Cap Ferrat, the setting for the next day's walk.
Leah admiring the views from above:
Our dinner at the Cosmo restuarnt on the first evening...
...and breakfast the following morning at the Welcome, watching the world go by at Villefranche's port:
We left the hotel by foot to walk around the peninsula of Saint Jean Cap Ferrat...
The bay of Villefranche seen from the cape:
Allan, Leah, and Rosemary at our picnic site: a post-sandwich smile:
Leslie and Angela on thr coastal path, wedged between the blue waters of the Mediterranean and some of the most expensive real estate on the planet (hidden by high fences!)
Agave in flower. The plant flowers only once in its lifetime, creating a flower so big -- up to 10m high -- that it drains the plant of all its energy, and it withers and dies within a year: a good way to go!
It may seem as though Allan has also been drained of all his energy, but he's just enjoying the tranquility of the beach: he would impress me and the group on more than one occasion with his ability to fall asleep anywhere and within seconds.
The beginning of our next day's adventure, walking from Villefranche.
Our wait at the train station would prove to require patience, as most of the day's trains were cancelled due to a strike:
Jackie led us through some stretches:
After a lengthy and difficult ordeal of cancelled trains and grumpy bus drivers, we finally made it to the hilltop village of Sainte Agnès, where we began the day's walk.
Sainte Agnès is listed amongst the "most beautiful villages in France", its old cobbled streets lined with timeless stone buildings.
Leaving Sainte Agnès by foot we took a cobbled footpath along a lush valley.
Allan and Jackie along the path:
Breathtaking views from the trails, including the sea to the rightmost part of the scene:
A well-earned picnic lunch in the sleepy town of Monti:
What? We have to climb up there?
The village of Castellar pictured below, the day's final destination
Wildflowers in the stone wall: Star-of-Bethlehem.
Views overlooking the valley from Castellar, with the beginning of the walk -- the perched village of Sainte Agnès -- hidden behind the clouds.
Our return on the train, crowded due to all the day's cancellations. Some forethought was required before dismounting...
On our third day of walking we traded the mountains for the sea, taking a short ferry ride from the Riviera town of Cannes to the unbuilt and peaceful island of Sainte Marguerite.
Leaving the port in Cannes:
On the island of Sainte Marguerite, walking on a coastal path :
Angela showing off her balance...
...and Leah doing a balancing act of her own...
... while Jackie preferred soaking her feet in the cool waters:
Our picnic on Sainte Marguerite:
Jackie contemplating the natural coastline, a far stretch from the glitter of the nearby Riviera:
Cistus flower (rock rose) in bloom:
Arriving at the Place Massena Square in Nice, where we settled into our hotel:
Our lunch at Lou Fran Câlin the following day, trying some of Nice's regional specialties...
...before trading the bustle and glitz of the Riviera for a 17th century goat farm hidden in the Luberon Mountains: the Auberge des Seguins.
Angela admiring the old hamlet from her room:
The following morning we set off from the Auberge des Seguins, along the centuries-old cobbled path above the Aiguebrun Gorge.
Our goal was the hamlet of Sivergues, seen below. The hamlet counts only 40 souls:
A sign pointing back towards our hotel. A little translating is required here for the line at the bottom: "the same as everywhere else". Not sure whether it's sarcasm or fact, or somewhere in between...
Terence showing off his ping pong skills. This would be the only time I'd actually see the ball off his racket, captured on my camera: Terence spent the previous day annihilating the Chamonix mountain rescue team, and made short work of us. He is one of Canada's top senior players, and has a chance to qualify for the world championships.
Leaving the Auberge by foot the next day, almond blossoms and an old farmhouse:
Leslie entering a "borie": a dry stone shelter which we'd use for a break:
Cherry trees in blossom:
Margaret looking no worse for wear after a full week of hiking:
Arriving at the perched medieval village of Bonnieux, after a week's worth of walking:
Many thanks to Leah, Allan, Rosemary, Angela, Margaret, Leslie, Jackie, and Terence for a wonderful week!
