Lenge Leve Norge

24 Norwegians bicycling through Provence, their Viking stature, presence and exuberant joy difficult to ignore, somewhat unsteadying at first, but quickly contagious, and a pleasure and honour to be part of.

I spent the past week cycling through the tiny villages of Provence with a group from central Norway, brought together by their local newspaper: Stjordalens Blad.



"Long Live Norway", written on a tiny road in the heart of the Provençal countryside -- and even chanted by Michel -- to the joy and surprise of the group.

Nearing the end of the first ride we arrived in the village of Fontaine de Vaucluse, the source of the Sorgue River. The waters exit the source at a constant 12°C all year. As a joke I offered a beer to the first person to jump into the waters, and they all started hopping in...

Along the quiet streets outside the village of Pernes les Fontaines:




Philippe worked the support vehicle all week long, taking care of the picnics and flat tires:




Terje outside our hotel in Isle sur la Sorgue, convinced he'll blend into French culture...




The Norwegians can't be slowed down. On their "day off" a group decided to climb to the summit of Mont Ventoux, arguably France's most difficult climb by bike:




A view of the hairpin turns leading to the summit:




But we enjoyed the plains as much as the mountains, cycling along orchards and vineyards and from village to village:

The group was accompanied by Svein Erik Vold, a professional cyclist from Norway, having finished his grueling season. He was kind and helpful all week, and we all hope to see him one day on the roads of the Tour de France.

Margit outside our winetasting cellar in St. Rémy, still managing to smile after a 2km climb up a rocky road. I had actually wanted to book a winetasting elsewhere, but I managed to mix up the estate names, and had to drag the group up a fairly arduous detour, unplanned. I was furious with myself, but the group accepted the mistake as more of a challenge, always keeping their good humour, and never once -- not any of the 24 of them -- making me feel bad about the error. It's a testament to the kindness and good nature of the group and of the Norwegian people in general.




Visiting the village of Les Baux de Provence:




Proudly displaying a Ventoux jersey after having been at the summit:




Ella enjoying the Provençal sun in a café in the town of Graveson, just south of Avignon.



And here she is again later that day with a helmetful of thyme and rosemary picked on the hills of the Montagnette.




Here's Sonja atop the montagnette and blasted by the Mistral winds.




Halvard and Anne-Brith atop the Montagnette. If you position yourself just right to take the picture, with the cathedral behind the subjects, you can get a devilish result:




After our ride around St. Rémy, and before reaching our hotel, half the group spontaneously stopped for a beer (well, you can't really qualify Norwegians stopping for a beer as "spontaneous", it's quite planned really...)



I'd like to thank each one of the group for such a wonderful time. It was an unforgettable experience for me. If only the Norwegians could export more of their joie de vivre...
Rendezvous next year in Norway for a reunion?

Reconnaissance on the Aiguebrun river

Here are a few photos from last Thursday's reconnaissance walk in the Luberon, as I was creating a new "Roadbook" for Walk Inn.

The regions' network of walking paths is so vast that even after years of experience in the same mountain, there are always new trails to be discovered, such as along the base of the Aiguebrun gorge, seen below:




This part of the path was magnificent, with lush vegetation and pools of water for swimming. But the path here isn't well trodden, overgrown in parts, and no waymarks to be found: I had to be extra careful in writing the written descriptions to guide our self-guided guests.

An old wooden footbridge over the Aiguebrun river:

The reconnaissance was to include a new hotel along the banks of the river: the stunning and elegant Auberge de l'Aiguebrun.

Part of the hotel: day beds along the river...

A short story:

During my day of reconnaissance I crossed paths with a group of 17 walkers from a major American adventure company. The major American adventure company in question, much like most other foreign (non-French) adventure companies, do not use certified and professional mountain guides to lead their groups: they use post undergrad students, who are "leaders" and not guides, happy to be paid to travel. The French guiding diploma isn't a breeze to obtain, needing two years of training and schooling, ensuring that there is a minimum standard in the guiding community, and a sort of protection for those who are certified; it is theoretically forbidden to guide without the diploma.

To try and shorten this story, let's say that on more than one occasion I've pointed out to these trip leaders that they really shouldn't be leading in France, and that they are essentially depriving professional guides -- people who do this for a living and know the region and its paths intimately -- of work. I've actually had to steer such leaders in the right direction at times, literally, as they were lost with their groups...

I met the very kind and outgoing leader of the American group in question, one of two leaders actually, and spoke to her without any of the agression I have reserved in the past for "tour leaders". Besides, I would have probably jumped on the opportunity to do what she's doing if I were in her shoes, and would never have guessed how taking the job would impact the situation of local guides. And so I was nice. Friendly. And upon return to my vehicle -- as I had left it to walk the river -- I found the following on my car, a snack that she had also reserved for her guests, and now also for me:

Good karma. It's a small token really, but a good lesson in restraint and in kindness.

All over Provence with Walk Inn

For Walk Inn Provence, this is one of my favourite holidays to lead. Using three very different bases, we set off to explore (two days each): the Dentelles de Montmirail, then the Luberon, and finally the Alpilles mountains, giving my guests a great overview of some of the most majestic landscapes of Provence.

It had rained the day before the trip start, the only non-walking day I've had over the past two weeks, and the only rains as well. But as is customary in Provence after a rainy day, the chilly Mistral winds kick in, and our first day of walking was at 15°C, a veritable temperature nosedive after walking in 30° weather all last week. But the Mistral winds always bring clear views and make for beautiful photographs. Below, we are on the crest of one of the "Dentelles", a set of three limestone teeth hovering high above the Rhône Valley.

Sitting above the village of Gigondas, the foothills of the Dentelles chain are laden with famed vineyards, planted on terraces carved into the steep slopes. In the backdrop of the picture and in the clouds is Mont Ventoux, Provence's highest mountain.

But best of all in the Dentelles mountains is the Florets hotel, nestled in the vines, and in the heart of the appellation of Gigondas. We stayed there two nights. Their food is to die for, and one of the many perks of being a mountain guide...

And we can walk off those fabulous meals the following day! Leaving Gigondas after our second night at the hotel, we find tracks that wind through the vineyards and into the plains, where we enter the olive groves of Beaumes de Venise.

After our pushup contest (which I handily lost), Christina relishes in her victory...







Walking along the Carpentras canal on our way to the centre of Beaumes de Venise:

A bakery in the village of Lourmarin, on the southern slope of the Luberon:

And just before arriving in Lourmarin, Christina makes a friend:

Our base for the 2nd part of the trip: the Auberge des Seguins hotel deep in the Luberon:

Merope at the hotel, just before dinner:

Our picnic lunches prepared by the Auberge des Seguins. Yum!

Diane preparing herself for the secret staircase to leave the Fort de Buoux:







And here's Cindy making her way down the vertiginous limestone steps, carved into the rock 3000 years ago.

Neville displaying the finer points of the game of Pétanque while brother Darryl watches. Sorry boys, you were up 12-3 but we came back to win 13-12 (just though I'd remind you...)

The photo below isn't great but captures what I've never seen from the summit of the Luberon mountains (where the shot was taken): the Ecrins mountains -- the snowy peaks in the background -- about 200 kilometers away and culminating at over 4000m in altitude.

But Neville has better things to do on the ridge of the Luberon: a Provençal sieste!

After the Luberon we took a short transfer to Saint Rémy, at the foot of the Alpilles mountains.

My favourite place to eat in Saint Rémy: the Mirabeau restaurant with its XL salads, the one below complete with an entire camembert cheese. At the expense of having to leave some of the garnishes, the camembert was finished...

Darryl nearing a summit of the Alpilles mountains, above St. Rémy. The windswept crest offers fantastic views of the Rhône Valley below, flat as a pancake.

Mother and daughter both taking a picture from atop the Alpilles of the medieval village of Les Baux de Provence, the end point of our last walk.

A sign of the times.
In Les Baux de Provence, a riverboat tourist -- in her 70s --using her iPad to take pictures of the medieval buildings.

My group outside a café in Les Baux de Provence, a building held by the same family for 400 years:

A short taxi transfer took us to the Roman city of Arles, where we spent the last night of our holiday. Here we are exploring the labyrinth of streets in the centre of town.

The whole group outside the Auberge des Seguins: thank you to Merope, Neville, Donna, Darryl, Christine, Cindy, and Diane for a great week!!

Up towards the coliseum in Arles:

Hidden villages of Provence for Peregrine Adventures

I didn't get to lead this holiday for Peregrine at all last year, which was quite disappointing; it's one of my favourites to guide: a good mix between the in-the-middle-of-nowhere Auberge des Seguins and active town of Vaison la Romaine, beautiful scenery, and lovely walks. And plus these trips always bring a group of Aussies and Kiwis, who are probably the best travellers on the planet.

We began outside the town of Bonnieux, on what would be a sizzling hot week. Below Lynne is approaching the village of Buoux, nearing the end of the first day's walk.

We spent the first three nights in the Auberge des Seguins, seen below, from the cliff that you can make out at the very bottom left of the photograph. I zoomed in to take the picture: the cliff is about 100m high here; I joked with the group that we were going to rappel down to the Auberge, but we found a hidden mule track -- hundreds of years old -- that descends gently to the base of the cliff.

I've probably mentioned it several times in this blog, but I'll repeat it once more: the Seguins is my favourite place to stay in the region. Cut off from the world (except from wifi reception, which is slowly filling in even the most remote locations), no roads, no television, at the intersection of the most beautiful paths in the Luberon mountains, total bliss.

Yours truly from my room in l'Auberge des Seguins (yes, despite the outward appearance, there's running water and even a private bathroom in each room!).

Our second walk brought us to the village of Gordes; it's a fairly touristy village, a victim of its beauty, and I like to start walking into the village from outside, up the cobbled streets where the tourists don't venture. It's much prettier without the façades of tourist shops:

Some goodies after our picnic break:

Above the Auberge des Seguins, at the Castellas goat farm, where I often encounter friendly pigs and goats:

On our "free day" I took the group to the summit of Mont Ventoux, probably my favourite hiking in the region. Below Julie is contemplating a 1000m deep rockslide:

Though Ventoux is more known for its cycling, its walking paths are stunning, first through forests of larch, beech, and pine, and then up through the scree towards the summit.

Though Tod had other ideas about how to climb to the summit...

Starting from the town of Bedoin, Tod climbed the mythical mountain and met us at the top for a well-deserved lunch.

Gotcha Chamois!!!

I took this shot at about 1700m along the north face of the mountain. Chamois spend most of their time around the steep slopes of scree, where their climbing skills are unmatched (they could beat any Tour de France cyclist to the summit from the base...).

On our last walk, starting in the village of Séguret:

The walk took us through reputed wine country, just in time for the harvest:

Here we are in front of the Auberge des Seguins. A big thanks to Pierre, Julie, Susan, Lynn, and Tod for a wonderful week in Provence.