Spring in Saignon

I often choose Wednesdays to do reconnaissance/field work, a way to cut the office work week straight down the middle, and help shed some of my winter fat.

Today's ambitious piece of field work began and ended in the perched village of Saignon, seen below through the cherry blossoms. I began by leaving the car in Saignon (end of the walk), and biking 20km to the village of Lourmarin, on the opposite slope of the Luberon mountain.
   

The spring fliowers were out in numbers and in great heaping patches.

Primula:

Liverwort, one of the first flowers to come up in the Spring. "Liverwort" because its leaves (not in this picture) have three lobes, resembling the liver, and at one time using the medicine of signatures this plant was used to try and cure liver disease (didn't work though...)  

The tiny village of Sivergues, nestled in the middle of nowhere in the Luberon mountains:

After completing two one-day hikes during the day I reached the village of Saignon. Below is the main square and its beautiful fountain:

Saignon to Rustrel

Yesterday's updating expedition began with a 3km climb by bike to the perched village of Saignon, wheeling my out-of-shape legs up a steep road. The village itself is huddled below the ruins of its castle, a few rows of majestic stone houses perched some 300m above the town of Apt, below in the valley.

The Belfry in Saignon:

An old, stone fountain in the centre of the village:

The walk took me from Saignon to the village of Rustrel, on the opposite side of the Calavon valley.

Rustrel is set by what the locals call the "Colorado Provençal": an ochre deposit of red, orange, and yellow sands, a veritable playground of walking paths and sandy pinnacles:

A path through the sands:

The almond trees in full bloom, and the sweet scent of honey in the air:

Luberon mountains

After a cold, cold winter, an early spring has sprung! Today it was easily over 20°C, the hot Provençal sun intensifying the scents of rosemary, thyme, and pine needles that line the paths. Within the first two minutes of walking I was dreading the decision of having worn pants and not shorts. It hasn't rained for five months in the region, and though the Mediterranean winters and summers tend to be dry, they're usually not bone-dry.


I was here updating one of our self-guided holidays with Sonja, who works with us in reservations.

A sunlit path up the southern slope:

Near the crest of the Luberon, overlooking a magnificent landscape:

Villages hidden behind Mont Ventoux

Montbrun les Bains: a village hidden below the northern slope of Ventoux, still authentic, devoid of tourist shops selling lavender bouquets and cicada-shaped soaps. It's the real deal. Listed among the "most beautiful villages in France", Montbrun's medieval centre is perched on a rocky outcrop, its cobbled streets winding around castle ruins and stone homes, and under its imposing belfry.
There are many such villages in Provence but few that have still remained below the tourist radar.

And that was precisely why I was there yesterday, with our (Walk Inn's ) new guide Charlotte, to put together a new self-guided walking trip...

The perched village of Monbrun-les-Bains:

Arriving above the medieval village, overlooking the church:

Charlotte writing walking notes through the village, to be turned into one of our famed Roadbooks:

Entrance gates into the old village:

Beyond Montbrun, a quiet farming track leading back to Reillanette, where we began our walk

The village Reillanette, in the last rays of sun cast from above Mont Ventoux.

Arriving back in Reillanette, its only commerce the hotel/restaurant where our guests will be based:

Cycling in Burgundy

Part of the 40km of cycle-path from Cluny to Givry, paved atop a dissafected railway line:

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.