Behind the Riviera

All of you have heard of the French Riviera -- la Côte d'Azur. But behind the coastline, in the hills that back right up to the water, lie dozens of seldom-visited villages, and linked by marvelous walking trails, often the ancien paths from one village to the next. Here you'll find authentic people and an authentic welcome, and just a fraction of the tourists who vie for space along the crowded beaches below.

My job here last week was to create a self-guided walking holiday, starting at the town of La Brigue and slowly making my way down to Menton, on the Mediterranean Sea. I stayed in a local gîte for two nights in La Brigue, run by farmer Jean-Louis Molinaro, seen in the picture below.

The cozy medieval village of La Brigue is set just below the Italian border, and in fact was Italian until 1947. The town is a fusion of Franco-Italian culture: the street names, the architecture, the foods, and the language: you'll hear as much French as Italian spoken on the streets, if not the local Brigasque dialect.

The gem of the town is set 2km away: the Notre Dame des Fontaines chapel, and its eerily intact 15th century Italian frescoes, depicting a 25-step version of the Passion of Christ.

The colourful façades in La Brigue.

The walking paths around town lead up in every direction: the villages are nestled at the base of the valley and the the slopes are green and steep. The Italian border is the natural ridgeline that can be seen in the background in the photo below, and is also the watershed that divides water that falls either into the Mediterranean or the Ardiatic Seas. Via these paths, and on a very pleasant and panoramic hike, I reached Tende, the last town before the Italian border.

Where Italy meets France on the railway line...

The last French towns before the Italian border are serviced solely by an Italian train, a remnant of the region's not-so-distant Italian past. In the town of Breil-sur-Roya passengers switch to the modern and comfortable French counterpart, always a pleasure to ride (when they're on time...)

Without a doubt the most spectacular village in the valley is Saorge, perched vertiginously above a gorge, its homes narrow and many stories high (many stories by medieval standards...), taking advantage of the small space available on its rocky crag, and all facing the southern sun like a cramped field of sunflowers.

In Saorge, a seemingly chaotic, gravity-defying and lego-like architecture of homes built atop one another and separated by narrow, cobbled streets.

In Saorge...

In Saorge...

My next stop was Breil-sur-Roya, a town shaped like a crescent -- or should I say croissant -- along the Roya River. Here too you'll find a mix of all things Italian and French, with a great little off-the-beaten-path restaurant La Bonne Auberge.

From Breil sur Roya the real fun begins on the walking trails: the paths follow alongside centuries-old terrace walls and through the olive groves, halfway between valley and crest. On my last day of walking I would witness the crumbling of a section of a stone terrace wall just 50m ahead of me on the path -- a wall, several times older than myself, meeting its end before my eyes, giving me a sense of both eternal and finite at once...

In the middle of nowhere the tiny village of Piène Haute appears, just a stone's throw from the Italian border (not a figurative stone's throw but a literal one, and especially considering the village's perched position, the stone makes it to Italy without a problem).

Beyond Piène Haute, and via a path adorned with ancient specimens of olive trees, you make it to Italy, in the small village of Olivetta

In Italy the dress codes change and even the public bathroom signs are more elegant:

The menu in the village's sole restaurant could use some work, although the crazy water fish was tempting.

The walk led to the medieval town of Sospel, seen below:

Above the town of Sospel, a refreshingly shaded path through the ash forest, and in easy zigzags, leads to...

...the summit of Mont Ours. At over 1200m in altitude, I'm perched high above the Mediterranean, with an awe-inspiring panorama. In the very centre of the photo is the goal of the day's walk: the medieval village of Saint Agnès, itself perched at 800m above sea level. Only 3km from the coastline as the crow flies, Sainte Agnès is touted as the highest coastline village in Europe ("highest coastline" is a bit of an oxymoron but we'll overlook it) .

Entering Sainte Agnès' cobbled streets:

I'd been in the village at least ten times, but this would be the first time I'd spend the night. The hikers' hotel Saint Yves proved to be far more comfortable than I had imagined, its prices miraculously outdated for the Riviera, a wonderful ambiance, and two meals in their restaurant that even I couldn't finish (I'm never frightened by large portions)

A view from my room:

A stained glass maker in town:

The streets of Sainte Agnès at dusk...

From the village of Sainte Agnès, looking out towards the Bay of Menton, tomorrow's walking destination.

From Sainte Agnès most of the day is a descent save the 30 minute walk up to the perched village of Castellar. Castellar, with its quiet streets, sole bar and grocery store, is a last bastion of tranquility before reaching the Côte d'Azur.

The walk descends right atop the old part of Menton, probably the prettiest town on the Riviera:

Menton...

A week's vacation in the Cévennes Mountains

Just a stone's throw from Provence, to the west of the Rhône river, the Cévennes mountains offer gentle rolling hills, beautifully green chestnut forests, and villages built of majestic granite blocks. Here you are a traveller and not a tourist, venturing to a place off the beaten tourist path, where authentic people live in authentic villages.

In July the walking is more tolerable here than in Provence. In the photo below I'm up on the plateaus laden with broom, at this time of year their pods snapping like popcorn and dispersing their seeds.

On the banks of the Luech River, studying my map

The hills are laced with trails and tracks under the thick canopy of beech and chestnut trees, while the previous year's vintage of leaves offer a padding underfoot, unlike the jagged limestone trails that cover most of Provence.

Our hotel in Génolhac: a 12th century farmhouse, completely renovated and modern yet letting the old shine through: massive granite blocks and wooden beams highlighted in the rooms, hand-carved marble sinks imported from India, all understated luxury.




Bathtubs cut into massive granite boulders:

A small peek inside the room:

While outside the lounge chairs bathe in the sun and worship the Cévennes mountains in the background:

The trails above Génolhac, with the famed red and white stripe of the GR walking path, making for easy orienteering (the markings and signs seem to be much better in the Cévennes than in Provence)

Following a track through the chestnut forest and down to the town of Villefort:

After a long walk we arrive in the medieval village of La Garde Guérin, timeless and empty, a few dozen centuries-old granite houses separated by cobbled streets. If this village were in Provence it would have at least five candy shops and ten gift shops, and a restaurant or make that five; but here the streets are open and devoid of tourist trinkets, with vegetable gardens behind the houses.

It stormed heavily all night and the menacing clouds remained in the skies all morning, though hovering on the opposite side of the gorge, with rays of sun shining only on our village. It's all that you need for great photos!!:

From La Garde Guérin I walked to the base of the Chassezac gorge, through the greenest of chestnut forests on paths lined with mossy boulders. This walk was definitely the highlight of Cévennes for me:

And above the Chassezac, later that evening:

Up on the plateaus the folloing day we passed pastures and walked through a veritable alpine setting, just below Mont Lozère. Here we passed the hamlet of Bellecoste, just a handful of old stone homes in various states of repair and disrepair:

The farm of Le Merlet, an organic farm/honey producer/B&B. This was our last stop in the Cévennes

Peregrine's coastal holiday in July

This was the first time I've led a walking holiday along the coast in July, and probably the only time I've ever been to the Riviera during the summer holidays. The trains are packed and the beaches blanketed by a solid mass of tan-seekers. But up in the hills, just a stone's throw from the Mediterranean, the perched medieval village of Sainte Agnès remains timeless and quiet, here surrounded by a veil of thick morning cloud:




Up in the hills, we continued along an ancient cobbled path to the village of Gorbio, seen below:




In the village of Gorbio:




The morning market in Menton, including the irresistible pickled garlic :




Our morning walk in Nice was topped by a short climb to the former castle hill, from where all of Nice was layed out:





Aix en Provence on Wednesday. It's not that all of the sudden everybody is now drinking "Coca Light". More of a promotion: a dozen scantilly clad teenagers dressed in red and white and handing out free samples at a busy roundabout:





The main fountain in Aix en Provence, one of many majestic fountains in town:




On Thursday the summer heat put a halt to our walking plans. We decided to head to the Mediterranean to the tiny, modest and tourist-free fishing port of Niolon, just west of Marseille. We sat for a leisurely lunch at a wonderful café, and then tested the waters in the afternoon. It was exciting to break from plan, discover a place I had never been, and wield both camera and excitement as much as anyone else in my group:




But it is a walking holiday after all! And so on Friday we were transferred to the Alpilles mountains for a last walk, amongst the pines and aromatic herbs, with a beautiful breeze and clear views:




A view of the coliseum on our last night, in Arles.




A big thanks to Sean, Al-dog, Cynthia, Lynn, and Sharyn for your company this week.

A couple of days with my friends from Adelaide

What you need most when walking through the trails of Provence is some energy. And what better than a bunch of cherries straight from the tree?

Daddy and his little girl heading towards Bonnieux...

The three girls at the café in Lacoste, smiling not for the camera but really about the Vanilla milkshakes they've just ordered...

Seen from within the confines of the château of the Marquis de Sade, Lacoste:

Walking through the narrow cobbled streets of Lacoste:

The whole family in front of a lavender field, just outside Bonnieux:

A refreshing walk through the Toulourenc river:

The girls near the summit of Mont Ventoux, crouching in the let's-spot-a-mountain-goat position:

Near the summit of Ventoux, with gusts of Mistral winds clearing the skies and unveiling the chain of the Alps in the far background:

Up in the air

My vertical, as seen in the Alpilles mountains, through Gustav's lens...