Week six - Into the mountains and back

Well my laptop has decided to play up so instead of typing on my normal keyboard I'm having to work around that by using the touch screen option which is proving to be a bit restrictive on how fast I can get the thoughts out of my head and onto this post, so please bare with me else I might throw the thing out of the caravan window and hoping that it might sink into the saturated ground that surrounds us at the moment!

Corks cut out of cork bark!

Anyways we hope you are well and that you are excited to read about our further journey around France as we enter the sixth week of our adventure in our VW campervan affectionately known as Elsie.

After leaving the gorges and the castles of the Cathars we headed further south and west towards the mountains of the Pyrenees that had been tempting us with their dazzling and dizzy heights for quite some time now but before we got to them we made a slight diversion towards the warm waters of the Mediterranean sea and the lowlands around Perpignan.

We descended into these lowlands along a twisty turny roads that cut their way up, over and then down hill, using the contours of the land to navigate the most effective path through the stunning scenery. It was these kinds of roads would define the middle part of our sixth week exploring with Elsie.

Fire watch

However before we made our way onto the plains we decided to have lunch on along a dead end road which led up to an old monastery, the building still there but the monks long gone and in their place another lonely soul who works for the fire department and who's job it is to use his binoculars to scour the surrounding countryside for any sign of smoke, which if found he would radio in to the nearest fire station for them to deal with.

Enroute to our stop over we popped into a huge super market, called SuperU, where we needed to top up with gas, in fact we bought a second bottle, probably the most expensive item we'd bought so far, except for the diesel that Elsie was guzzling at a fairly modest rate (in fact by the end of the whole trip she'd managed to return a respectable 38 miles per gallon, but more on that in a few posts time!).

As you'll remember we'd been using France Passion (a web based community of over 2050 camping sites at which you are able to pitch up in a motorhome, or campervan, for one night for free at various organic farms, shops or restaurants around France), however the France Passion site that we had picked for tonight's stop over wasn't really up to the standards that we had become accustomed to, a huge gravel car park outside a shop selling olives alongside a main road. We ventured in, took a look around and swiftly made our exit before having to explain our actions to the host, who we're sure were lovely people.

First views of the Pyrenees from a
morning run from Passa

After leaving that site we studied the France Passion bible, the superb handbook which comes with the membership that provides you with maps detailing the position of the stop over, it's facilities, such as access to a toilet or water point and whether the host speaks English etc, and found another site but after another longish journey up some hot and dusty roads found the simple vineyard closed with not a soul to be seen. Back to the bible and after another pounder we made our way to Thuir and found a very strange set up within the orchards of nectarines and plums.

Not the greatest view

The site was fine but we felt a little out of place with a view of rusty old farm machinery and a huge structure of orange and blue pallet racking which was taking up the view which could have afforded us a sunset over the Pyrenees but instead took me back to my (Tim's) days of hunting around the warehouses of the companies that I worked for in my early working life and that thankfully seem a life time away after all we have experienced since then.

We took very few pictures as we 
made our way up mountain passes
but here's one.

We slept well and I enjoyed a short run in the tightly packed orchards, hearing the chatter of the pickers who had woken early to make the most of the cooler morning air, the smells of the fresh ripe fruit filled my nostrils gave me a boost it was with a bounce in my stride that arrived back to Elsie and Maz waiting with eager anticipation as we were going to be heading towards the sea and a day at the beach!

The road network around Perpignan was the busiest we'd seen so far and was a eye opener after weeks of quiet narrow roads which had become our favourite method of getting from A to B, the roads were packed and as we made our way towards the coast they became even more clogged, thankfully it seemed that everyone was heading in the opposite direction but as we turned off of the main coastal road, which would have taken us to Spain should we have wished, towards the seaside town of Collioure it seemed like the world and his wife had also decided to make that their desired destination of the day.

Grey clouds came over the Med making
it seem grey too!

Getting through that tourist filled tiny fishing village was a bit of a mission but we could see why it was busy, tight little streets heading down to the crystal clear Mediterranean was a little tempting but we wanted something a little less crowded, especially as we'd heard that the Covid-19 cases in France were on the rise so made our way further along the coast to Cap Bear where we spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon.

Another camping spot

At around 3pm, having enjoyed a swim and Maz a snorkel in the rocks around the little bay we found, we left the beach and headed towards Passa, also spelt Paçà as we were now well and truly enconst in Catalan country where every town and village had a sign in French and Catalan. 

Maz's new friend.

The owner was cleaning down the machinery that he had been using to produce the wines that that area of France is famous for, a sweet desert wine which the locals drink by the glass and although very sweet packs a punch as the alcohol level is very high. High alcohol comes from having high amounts of sugar in the grapes and high amounts of sugar come from the hot conditions that the region is known for. However after speaking to the owner, after tasting his refreshingly chilled wine, he said that the rise in temperatures due to climate change that they had experienced over the last 10 years was making it hard for anyone to produce a wine that they could sell.

Who came to sleep in Elsie too!

Once again we had a lovely evening and were joined by the owners huge Pyrenees Mountain Dog who thought he'd make himself at home inside the van (Elsie). We both slept well and after another run around the vineyards with the mountains looking down we made our way up and into them for the next few days of our trip. As we left Passa the roads became narrower, thankfully Elsie is only 5 meters long and not much wider than a standard road car so we could take the twisting and turning mountain passes which many of the other motorhomes would struggle to get up.

Pretty mountain villages

The road was clinging to the sides of the towering mountains like a ivy and the single road track was getting narrower and narrower as the road climbed steeper and steeper. A simple low wall was all that was stopping us, and the road, from falling down into the ravines which seemed to swallow up vast amounts of air and it was around a bend in one of these roads that we not only happened upon a tunnel cut into the rock where we weren't sure whether Elsie would fit but also an old man on an equally ancient looking tractor coming the other way.

The Pyrenees

I tentatively backed Elsie around the corner, careful not to misplace a wheel for fear of dropping off and never to be seen again. Maz opened the window to say a quick 'merci beaucoup' to the weather beaten farmer, he must have noted our UK number plates cheerfully replied, 'it's very touristic around here isn't it', not battering an eyelid as to the crazy situation we had just happened upon! 

The views were stunning and although we had travelled to the Italian Alps a few years ago we hadn't really experienced anything so remote in Europe before. Up and up we climbed and with each turn new vistas of mountain tops came into view. 

A walk around the lake

Our stop over was set on a large plateau and we stayed under the gaze of a winter ski resort alongside a ice cold stream which led to a lake which we walked around that evening before the stars came out to show themselves in all their glory.

Pitch under the ski slopes

That night was cold so we slept inside the van, rather than in the pop up tent, and after a quick run around the same lake that we'd walked around the evening before we boiled up some hot water for a shower. The night pitch didn't have any facilities so we used our porta potti which was now in need of emptying, and Maz collected the water we needed for our shower from the stream which seemed even colder that following morning, it certainly took longer to heat up for the shower which was already refreshing enough standing outside with the shower pump in the luke warm water held in the collapsible bucket!

Maz collecting mountain stream water
for our morning showers!

We made our slow way back down from the plateau on the slightly wider but no less steep road, passing cyclists coming up the other way, I don't think I pressed the accelerator pedal for around 45 minutes so just how long it was going to take those hardy cycling souls to reach anywhere resembling flat god only knows.

Not Tim's favourite job.

As we continued towards the Andorra border the roads grew even wider, with larger trucks jostling for position as they made our way to supply the needs of that small landlocked nation. In some places there was even a slow lane as the roads made their way through the higher peaks and where we could also spot a small mountain railway (one which my parents had travelled on their holiday to the Pyrenees last year) way down below deeper in the valley.

On the way to our next stop over we'd pulled into a local Aires (a municipal campervan site which normally charge a few Euros for you to stop over for the night) as we needed to use the drains to empty our Porta Potti, with all that sorted we arrived at a delightful little site, set up for campers, AirBnB and tents, we had full access to a shower with warm water, toilet and even a washing machine.  

An evening swim

Set in the hills around a small village called Dun we spoke to the owner, who not only ran the site but also lived there in a new home and produced jams and beers with her husband in their newly built kitchen complex, and she suggested a walk up and over a hill to a swimming spot in the local river. We didn't need a second invitation, the day was warm and the evenings were long and sunny so that sounded wonderful, the water was a perfect temperature for cooling off, even for me (Tim)!

During our walk we had skirted passed a wooded hill and I'd spotted a track going up into those woods so once I got back I checked my Strava and found that there indeed was a looped run which took in the hill so the next morning I got up before the sun rose too high in sky and attempted a segment which covered just over 1000 meters but gained over 180 meters in height on a slippy gravelly type trail. Once at the top the views across to the mountains was awe inspiring and I was so pleased to have bagged 7th place out of the 39 people who had recorded a time.

View from the top of my run

We were making our way across the foot of France now, Pyrenees to our left but with one eye on the roads that would head us back north as we had a couple of appointments to make on the way back to England and hanging around in the mountains wasn't going to enable us do complete those.

An idea of what I could see, twaz stunning

It was Saturday morning so we decided to make our leisurely way to Foix, a stunning and enchanting town sitting on the N20 (national motorway) and famous for its castle that dominates the town. We had hoped that we might make it before midday when most of the French markets close and arrived at around quarter only to find the stall holders packing up their wares, well that went well, not!

Part of the hydroelectric dam

Back on the road we travelled on the D177 towards our next destination which sounded much more appealing than it actually was, who could resist a visit to 'Pointis-de-Riviere', when we arrived at our hosts home we found out that the site could only bae accessed through a rubble pile which was a result of half of an house which used to home over 100 old age pensioners being knocked down and  the rest was now being used as a duck farm where they produced foie gras, not the best result for a couple of plant based eaters but we had committed to taste and buy at least one product at our France Passion stays.

Foie Gras anyone........?

The hosts couldn't have been more accommodating and invited us to use their swimming pool and were also keen for us to taste their produce!, in for a penny in for a pound, we held our noses and bought a couple of tins and gave them as a present to my (Tim's) Mum and Dad, we hope they enjoyed them more than we did.

The village was a little strange too but we did manage to find access to the river and had a walk along to find it dammed and channelled to a hydroelectric powerstation, why not use free power produced by the water that always flows towards the sea.

We swam in the pool and chilled out in the warm evening air, however our nights sleep was slightly interrupted by a group of youngsters who were carearing around the village on a noisy scooter with others spray painting the walls of the local basketball center. This was the only time we really lost sleep throughout the whole 54 nights that we spent in France so one shouldn't complain too much.

The last day of the week, or perhaps Sunday is the first day of the week, we made our way further north and west through a pretty city called Auch where we walked around the cathedral. The major part of the city was built on the hill and was stunning with a regal feel about it however we were keen to see the river but as we reached it we saw that the river Gers was a brownish greeny colour and not at all pretty or inviting. 

It felt as though the locals were embarrassed by it and we were certain that if it was a fast running river like the Loire or the Dordogne it would have been the center of attention with bars, clubs and restaurants lining its banks.

d'Artagnan and Tim

We did find and have a photo taken by the statue of the areas most famous son, Charles de Batz de Castelmore, who? we hear you ask, well you'll probably know him as the Musketeer more commonly known as d'Artagnan.

Our final stop of the week was another strange one, set on a vineyard in the rolling hills just north of Auch we found the place up a long drive and upon arriving had trouble raising anyone to show us to our parking spot. The guy who eventually greeted told us that he was unable to speak English but then regaled stories of French rugby triumphs over the English and informed us that we would have to move on as he didn't like the English.

Our strange last stop of the week.

Thankfully he was only joking, about us having to move on, and showed us to our spot which came complete with a dry toilet, basically a wooden shack with an open bucket to poop into then cover with sawdust to help break it down and keep the smell to a minimum.

We joined him for a tasting which took place in a grotto filled with books, trinkets and thankfully some wine, which wasn't great but we did begin to think that our taste buds much prefered the reds and even whites that were produced further south in the Corbieres region.

After a very peaceful sleep, no noise at all, just the chatter of some red squirrels which we spotted for the first time on the trip, they are so small, and our firm friends the green woodpeckers to keep us company we made our way further north towards new friends and new adventures but that can keep for another day!

Tour de France - Part Five towards the Cathars

Albi

We hope you've enjoyed reading the previous four posts about our 54 day trip around France in our little VW Campervan known as Elsie. After last weeks week long stay at the chateaux Elsie was certainly chopping at the bit to get back on the road and also to get away from the wasps who had driven us around the bend as they made themselves at home at the swimming pool which had almost become out of bounds for us.

Wall paintings in the cathedral 

The next stage of the journey was going to take us slightly further south east towards the Languedoc and the castles and medieval towns of the Cathars, this was perhaps our most favourite week and not just because Tim was going to be celebrating his 53rd birthday!

Imposing hey!

We were keen to visit the city of Albi so headed west through beautiful Montauban, where we had watched the end of a stage of the Tour De France a few years before with our son Josh, Tim's sister and our brother-in-law and our friends who were staying at the chateaux and on to Albi which sits on the river Tarn with its fourth century cathedral made out of brick dominating the city with the old town set out around it. 

We we fascinated by the painted walls which were so intricately detailed and provided an alternative to the other cathedrals that we had visited which used the traditional stained glass option to depict scenes from the bible.

A night under the cedars

After a few hours in Albi we headed south towards Castres but before getting there we stopped at our France Passion site for the night. We arrived down a steep dirt track to a farm set in the bowl surrounded by low hills and after making contact with our host, Serge, and making our acquaintance with his friendly Austrian sheepdog we were shown to our parking space under a couple of large cedar trees which provided some welcome shade throughout the afternoon and into the evening. 

Pink garlic anyone?

Serge grows garlic in the fields that surround the farmhouse but not just any old garlic, Serge grows Pink Garlic of which the region is famed and which are able to be kept for longer than the standard white version, which he informed us were inferior in that ability and flavour. We didn't question his knowledge and before we left bought a bunch to bring back home. 

Our friendly sheep dog kept us company all evening and as I (Tim) had strained my back the day before, not quite sure how that happened but it could have been bought on by the slightly softer bed that we had been sleeping on in the chateaux. So we decided to sleep in the rear awning on the floor, which was quite comfortable and a little less hot than sleeping inside of Elsie and the dog was there to guard us as he hadn't left our side since we'd arrived some hours before.

Castres by the river!

The next morning we drove to and through Castres, another delightful town sitting on the river, this time the Agout, with its tiny streets and homes jutting out above the river it seemed like a very pleasant place to live. 

Castres

However we were keen to get to our next stop so made our way through Mazamet and up through the winding roads into the Black Mountains and towards the place we had planned to stay the night. When we got to the venue all was shut up, it was before 2pm so everyone was taking their standard two hour lunch break, however after sharing our picnic, spelt  pique-nique in French, overlooking a lively river which was cascading through the gorge below us we decided to follow the signs to a suspension bridge that we had passed under on the winding roads earlier.

The view to the suspension bridge

We left Elsie to chillout and followed a path which ran just above the river, turning steeply to the left through some woods we wondered where on earth we were going. Up and up we climbed passing a few people coming down the other way when suddenly we arrived at a hill top town called Hautpoul which was abuzz with tourists who it would seem had also made their way up the same path, we weren't so sure but couldn't find any other way of accessing this tiny medieval village.

Maz made it across!

What everyone had come to experience wasn't just the tempting ice creams or stunning views but the Himalayan style footbridge which sits just below the town. Opened in 2018 this 140 metre long and 70 meter high bridge was certainly worth the visit and even though both myself and Maz felt a little dizzy when crossing the first time the views across the mountains to the plains below were stunning. Once across you could either walk back down towards Mazamet or return the same way, this time we didn't hold hands as we found that our synchronized steps made the bridge swing from side to side quite violently so we decided to follow each other back across very slowly!

We arrived back to Elsie who was again eager to move on, she agreed with us that the parking spot on the gravel car park wasn't what we were looking for so we continued our journey up and up the twisting roads (The D111 if you'd like to have a look on a map) and then down, down, down towards Laure Minevios and our new stop over at our new France Passion site a vineyard called Domaine Fontanille Haut which was a delight. Our hosts, an older husband and wife and their son, who runs the vineyard and also mountain bike trails around the farm, made us feel super welcome and the pitch under the trees was once again a welcome bonus, as was the shower and toilet!

Wine tasting with new friends

Later that evening we joined the family and some local visitors for a wine tasting in their newly built tasting room. We were impressed by the wines, more red dominant but also their Pineux style aperitif which we bought and have enjoyed with our son and daughter-in-law since we have returned home.

We were up early and due to my bad back neither of us were running so we made a swift getaway as we wanted to visit the almost Disney like fortified city of Carcassonne. This hilltop city can be seen from miles away which made our interest grow all the more the nearer we got and after parking in the newer lower town we made our way up the cobbled streets and through one of the gates in the fortified walls. 

Disney castle or Caracasone

At first it wasn't the impressive medieval buildings or the narrow streets that struck us but the huge numbers of people which together with the large police presence and the fact that everyone was wearing masks as a protection against Covid-19 it was all a bit too much to take in.

Yes the city was stunning, who can't fail to be impressed by something so old with all its history held within the streets and if only the buildings could talk, but there was a nagging feeling that all this was little more than a show, the fact that there were 'novelty' houses, a ghost house and a knight in shining armor house, this felt even more like Disney on the inside than it had when viewed from the outside. So after a brief visit we left for the more tranquil waters of the river Tarn and the Canal di Midi which ran alongside....now that's better!

Canal di Midi

We had planned to spend a night near to Carcassonne and then move on to a town near to the canal with the thoughts of celebrating Tim's birthday at one of the restaurants located along the canal side, however upon arriving at our next planned stop we weren't to enamored so decided to celebrate a day early so made our way to that canal side town, Trebes, where we did enjoy an afternoon reading by the canal and then walking along the towpath for a few miles before spending a late afternoon and early evening enjoying some tapas and pizza (when in France and all that!) whilst watching the holiday makers moor up for the night on their hired boaty accommodation, perfect.

After a good nights sleep in a strange stop over, a secured car park of a shop that sold olives and other local produce and which we shared with around six other vans and some donkeys, I know who let them in! we made our way further south up over some twisty mountain passes which again reminded us of those we had driven during our years in South Africa. 

Birthday eve dinner
Yup plant based pizza

On the way down one of the passes we happened to spot a sign to a monastery so decided to see what all the fuss was about. Through the valley we drove and came upon a delightful little town called Lagrasse, where we walked over the river on some stepping stones towards the imposing monastery, which you had to pay for to go in so we didn't and didn't but we did enjoy a birthday coffee at a tiny cafe overlooking the river with swifts, or swallows, or both, and kingfishers skimming over the gently flowing river and then found our way to our next stop.

The monastery

This was to be one of the best stops of our whole trip and really typified the essence of the France Passion movement. Located at a small vineyard which sat on the side of a hill overlooking a small town we had a perfect view from Elsie and although the land was stony which meant that we couldn't set up the pull out sunshade. 

However we spoke with our hosts, a lady in her sixties and her son, who we found out had studied in the United States and New Zealand for his viticulture degree and who therefore spoke very good English, and they agreed to allow us to relax in their sunken garden which was surrounded by old trees which provided the perfect place to hang a couple of hammocks or two. We duly took them up on their offer and spent another afternoon chilling in the shade whilst gently being swung from side to side in the gentle breeze, who could ask for more and what a way to end a birthday.

Birthday wine tasting,
it would be rude not to!

The evening before we had had a tasting of their delightful wines, probably the best we'd had so far and mainly made using the Grenache grape, each of the wines were named after the symbols found in the Germanic alphabet of the Runes, all quite intriguing.

The owner had also recommended a walk through the vineyards to a signed track so just before bed we ventured out for a walk amongst the pines and vines which made a very pleasant end to the day.

We awoke to another stunning day and seeing as though we were a day ahead of our very loose schedule we couldn't bear to leave, so after speaking to our host, who agreed to let us stay an extra night, or even longer should we wish, we made the decision to go and find the circular route we'd started to follow the night before and venture out on a longish walk. This walk ended up in an epic adventure, everything started perfectly, we walked down through the vines and found the path, this time turning towards the village some four kilometers away, picked up some bread and fruit and headed out into the hills.

The walk was going well, the scenery was superb and the path we were following was called 'The Postman's Path' and was the old path of, yes you've guessed it, the postman in years gone by. We climbed up hills with awe inspiring views, through the pine woods and vineyards dotted around in tiny patches of land on soils that looked volcanic and hardly fit for anything to grow. 

Vines thrive on tough arid soils

The path split, we were following the yellow route which then split into a mountain bike track and took us towards the river, very dry, and a huge pool cut into the stone where the waters must rush down into during the wetter months. 

Without going into too much detail this was already going to be a 17 kilometer walk, a tough ask in the heat of the day, but after passing the pool, which we were reliably told we could have swam in once we made it back, the path seemed to peter out and we spent a few hours wandering and wondering where we should be going. The paths were wide and we didn't feel at risk of getting too lost but we did end up going one way, retracing our steps only to make our minds up that we were going the right way in the first place, only to realise later that we weren't.....anyways it was a beautiful walk which should have taken around four hours and ended up more like six. 

Chillaxing in our hammocks

Eventually we ended up in the village, not the plan, but found the bar and had a swift beer then made the now long four kilometer climb back up to Elsie who had been watching our escapades all day long, she must have been laughing to herself as she had a birds eye view and saw most of our faltering steps.

The day ended with us sleeping in the hammocks and then wearily climbing into Elsie for our second night at this beautiful place. Up in our the pop up roof beds we both slept with the canvas sides open and drifted off to sleep whilst watching the night sky open up before our sleepy eyes. 

We didn't want to leave this beautiful place but the coast was calling us, as were the mighty Pyrenees mountains which were becoming more pronounced along the horizon. 

Impressive clay barrels 

After a lazy start we said our sad goodbyes and made our way up and over the Corbières Massif, the road once again winding its merry way through the wonderful countryside. 

Our next stop was to be at yet another vineyard, this time owned and run by a young lady, assisted by her husband, in the town of Caudies-de-Fenouilledes which sat at the bottom of a delightful ravine called Gorges de St Jaume which we were to explore the next morning. 

Braai time

Her setup was totally different to anything we had ever seen before, and that includes a lot of vineyards in now both France and South Africa! For the first time we were shown her cave/cellar full not of oak barrels but those of ancient times made out of clay, these she said allowed the wines to show their true character rather than being dominated by the heavy oak flavours which red wines especially are known for. 

These clay vats weren't small either and standing next to them they were at least five feet tall and perhaps four feet in diameter. The wines she produced were so different in both appearance and taste with more subtle tones of which she was rightly proud.

Once again we were made to feel very welcome and after they had cooked their own food on the BBQ, using old vines as fuel for the fire, they offered it to us so we cooked up some aubergine steaks and sweetcorn fritters which went down well with a glass or two of her beautifully crafted wine. 

A walk up the gorge

Before we went to bed she asked us how long we were thinking of staying, and seeing as though it was the weekend and we weren't in any rush we opted to stay another night which once again gave us time to explore the surrounding area.

Our week ended with a walk up into the gorge with its rushing river cutting its way over cascading waterfalls with a tiny path cut into the rocks upon which we climbed and climbed to a small village which was dominated by the ruins of castle of the Cathars. 

The views from the top were incredible and we were so glad we had the opportunity to stay another night and as we drifted slowly off to sleep we could almost feel the Mediterranean calling us, but that story and that of the continued road trip into the Pyrenees will have to wait till next time!