Where did summer go ???

Climate Change continues to confound us all. We spent a day in the wonderland of fresh snow in the mountains. Snow is not particularly unusual at any time in the Pyrenees, but as much snow as this in September is surprising the locals a little.

Travelogue- Millau

Travelogue - We climbed to the clifftops and through the caves of the gorges of the Tarn, the Dourbie and the Jonte, relaxed in the shade in Millau and investigated the intricacies of Roquefort cheese.

We met Hadley and his cousin Elliott, and their friends, Harry, Aden and Lucy in Montpellier and headed up to Lozeres looking for a quiet spot to spend some time together. We were very lucky to find a wonderful hostel in Millau, a refreshing, relaxed town at the confluence of the Tarn and Dourbie rivers. This is the area of the Grand Causses - three large, arid plateaux, largely limestone and separated by three deep limestone gorges - an area of cliffs, caves and rushing rivers, sheep, goats and cheese. Millau is also the paragliding, rock climbing and white water rafting capital of France. The hostel is on the bank of the Tarn, set among shadey trees and adjacent to green sporting fields - a wonderful place to relax for a few days.

We walked in the Tarn Gorge, amongst an array of the most fantastic limestone cliffs and eroded shapes, a deep valley with the Tarn river running clear and strong at the bottom, little villages built into the cliffs, terraced gardens, vultures wheeling overhead. In the Gorge of the Dourbie we found caves and explored the larger ones. The caves further south are the famous Roquefort caves where the sheep's cheese is kept for months in order to develop the famous blue of the Roquefort cheese. The particular conditions of the caves, the temperature and the draughts flowing through the caves result in the process which makes the most delicious cheese. The milk comes from sheep grazed in a particular area under prescribed conditions- it is all strictly controlled, so production is limited - demand is growing - so it is a good business and is all part of the French understanding and love of local, regional produce. When McDonalds attempted to build an outlet in Millau the local farmers lead by a Roquefort producer called Jose Bove dismantled the building piece by piece handing out Roquefort chees to the onlookers and assembled media - it was a masterpiece of collective action against globalisation. Unfortunatly the McDonalds has been rebuilt but Roquefort cheese holds a very important place in France and the action has resulted in serious anti globalisation campaigns in France.

Millau is also the place where English engineers and French builders combined to build the Viaduc, an incredible bridge across the Tarn Gorge - it is a masterpiece of modern engineering and a combination of grace, beauty and functionality - it says a lot about modern France.

Shepherd

"We caught this morning, morning's dauphin" Hopkins

We came across a shepherd ( Berger ) yesterday morning on a walk in the mountains. We were following a noisy, rushing creek, fresh after rain, up a steep mountainside. As we came out of the thick forest there was a mob of sheep on the other side of the creek - a dog barked - to warn us to keep our distance or to keep the sheep away from a cliff we weren't sure. There were 200 or more in a mob making a symphony with their bells as they slowly made their way across the steep mountainside. The sheep are a wonderful local breed, all with horns, pronounced roman noses and long rough looking wool, mostly white but a few black and brown ones as well. Full of character as sheep are - they will stand on a ridge and gaze at you as you struggle past, with an amused, aloof sort of air, unafraid and completely at home on the mountainside. They are all milking sheep, producing the milk that is used to make the delicious Brebis fromage we eat on all our walks. There were two big, white Pyrenean mountain dogs with the sheep keeping a watchful eye on us across the creek. We rounded a corner and there was the berger lying on the grass in the morning sun with another mountain dog and a smaller cattle dog - a Labris - the local working dog - an endearing, scruffy, untidy looking breed, rather self contained but as tough as nails and friendly once they get to know you.

We said "Bon Jour" and he came over and we stood in the warm autumn sun, the air fresh from the rain and the cool morning and talked as his sheep crossed the creek and moved over to us, all around us and past us, on up the mountain grazing the last of the summer grass. He said they follow his scent around the mountains. He comes from Oloron St Marie, a town about 1 hours drive away down the valley and lives in a little cabin in this beautiful valley for the 3 months of summer - July, August, September. He milks the sheep twice a day for the first 4 to 6 weeks and makes cheese, then they are dried off and roam the mountains higher and higher until the first snows arrive. He stays with his sheep the whole time and brings them back to an enclosure near his cabin at night. We were told there are bears in this valley and when we ask him about bears, he says yes, they are about and he points to a very large white dog and says "This is my protection".

We talked about the price of wool and meat, as you do, and prices are down, as they inevitably are, but cheese is good ! He said he will descend from the mountains on Sunday. He is possibly in his late twenties, a quiet, comtemplative person, comfortable with silence, as you might imagine. We say "Au Revoir", he hoists a good sized pack onto his back and moves away up the mountain close to his sheep and sits down on the grass in the sun with his bear protection and the little cattle dog - the other dogs are on the edge of the mob watching.

Much later, on our way down the mountain we hear and see the mob and the berger on the steep valley side above us returning slowly to the cabin, through the trees and the lengthening shadows - the bells, sheep, dogs, a man with a pack on his back, dying light - we stand and watch -silent in the late afternoon.

Walking again

We wasted no time in getting out into the mountains again - we headed for our favourite valley on an Autumn day that was made for walking - pure blue skies, warm in the sun, cool in the shade, a gentle breeze floating through the valleys from the north. The first part of the walk, low in the valley is through thick beech forest, along the Risseau de Pombie (Pombie Creek), an enchanting walk through shady, mossy forest with little grassy glades from time to time, the creek gurgling happily and tumbling down over rocks a few metres away through the forest. As we came out of the forest at the limit of the tree line we crossed a small stone bridge and came across a flock of sheep (Brebis) all with bells on making their way noisely across the mountain, looking for the remaining summer feed - no shepherd in sight. At this stage late in the season the sheep are all dried off and are allowed to roam high up in the mountains unattended. Apparently there is usually a shepherd in one of the mountain huts who will keep an eye on a number of mobs and the owners visit regularly to check. There are lots of stories about bears !!

We walked then through a wide open valley with a hint of the desolation and cold of winter whistling through - up to the Lac de Pombie and a mountaineering cabin on the lake at the base of the Pic De Midi ( the highest peak around here - 2884 m ) There were people swimming in the lake - how, we don't know as the water is very cold, but it was a beautiful warm, sunny day. After the Lac we continued up to a high pass from which we had a stupendous view down our favourite valley - the Vallee de Magnabaigt. We walked through hard, rocky country with the Spanish peaks in the distance - all brown and rocky with bare peaks all around, when we reached the pass, the view down the other side goes forever along the Vallee d' Osseau to Pau and possibly Paris - the Vallee de Magnabaigt in the foreground is a high suspended valley, green with a clear stream running all the way through the valley, trees, dark green on the western side, blue peaks in the northern distance and a massive drop at the northern end to the Valle d' Osseau. On a small ledge just below us there was a little mob of horses, bellies full of sweet summer grass, dreamily standing in the sun, one sat down slowly and rolled luxuriously on this little, grassy ledge above the world - what would we have given to swap places !! The Vallee d'Osseau beyond was full of white fluffy clouds with sharp blue peaks poking up through the soft bed of cloud - absolutely stunning !!!

The walk back was equally memorable, the clear, clear blue sky framed by peaks and ridges - brown, grey and yellow ridges stark against the blue, and so many different blues !! As the light changes toward late afternoon the mountains change as well, shadows move quickly across, the forest becomes darker and the sky above stays blue, blue, blue. The air so clear everything is sharp and distinct, ragged ridge lines against the sky. A mob of sheep high on a peak above us, the sound of their bells floating across the valley - a walk like this makes our hearts sing and the reverberations stay with us for days after !!!

" I gazed and gazed, but little thought what wealth to me this show had brought" Wordsworth.

Port Vendre - fishermen

Travelogue - Port Vendre and the Mediterranean

We bathed breifly in the brisk Mediterranean at Port Vendre, sped down to Spain and met Hadley and his mates in Montpellier.

From Cathar country we drove south east past Perpignan to the area where the Pyrenees meet the sea - a rocky coastline with little coves and stoney beaches, fishing villages and the blue, blue sea. We spent a night in a laid back little fishing village called Port Vendre - it is a working fishing village and we were able to watch boats coming in and out of the harbour, fishermen mending nets, smoking, talking and unloading their catch, wonderful to walk around, smell the sea and hear the sounds of French, Spanish and I guess Catalan. There are also a number of large very expensive yachts tied up in the harbour and plenty of tourists on any available beach. This part of France considers itself to be Catalan, their French has a different accent and there are signs and posters talking about a separate Catalan. We watched a large group of people dancing folk dances to a small orchestra under the plane trees in the main villlage square - lots of fiddle and accordian and a few brass instruments. Folk dancing is one of the ways the Catalan traditions are maintained in a French society.

Ashur plunged bravely into the cold water and we drove back up the coast to Montpelier -flat, sandy beaches, stunning, still blue water but incredibly crowded in the middle of the tourist season and some awful looking coastal developments - units and small houses, no high rise.

We spent a night in Montpelier and met Hadley and his cousin Elliott and their mates there. They arrived from Paris on the Very Fast Train looking a little shocked but enjoying themselves in a new country - Wonderful to see Had again after 7 months in the wilds of South Africa.

Montpelier is a beautiful city, lots of young people, warm climate and a feeling of excitement and space - the centre has been largely pedestrianised so it is hell to find somewhere to park near an inner city hotel or even to unload gear but a wonderful place to walk around. We parked our car overnight in a city car park and in the morning when we attempted to leave we arrived at the pay station without having paid for our ticket and there is no place to pay at the exit barrier - cars started to build up behind us and the toots started, panic !! - Sue pressed the "appelle" (call) button and a voice came out "oui" - Sue stuttered with some French - saying how do we pay ? Or something like that - there was an inaudible sigh from the disembodied voice and the gate just lifted - obviously the powers behind the machine thought this is not worth the hassle and we parked for free.

Travelogue - Cathar country

Travelogue - We scrambled over Cathar strongholds in Languedoc, marvelling at the madness that must have existed to make people build and live in places like the castles we visited.

We headed to Carcassone from Toulouse. Carcassonne, the famous walled city is breathtaking from afar as it stands on a hill above a river in the middle of a valley. The walls are entire and there is a whole village inside the walls. Once you get inside the walls it is a bit of a different story - tourist heaven, heaps of small shops selling STUFF and hordes of tourists - it resembles a medieval village but the shops are horrendous. We had a walk around, bought a very over priced beer and left. We spent a few days visiting other Cathar castles and strongholds. ( The Cathars were a religious sect against which a pope declared the only Crusade to be conducted within Europe - it was of course really a conflict over land and power and the Cathars were practically wiped out with a great deal of bloodshed and ash - the believers who refused to convert were burnt en masse.) Queribus, the last stronghold to fall (in 1255), is an isloated fortress built straight up out of the rock dominating the valleys which run to the Mediterranean and to Spain. For a long time it was a French outpost guarding against Spanish incursions. From Queribus we could see Peyrepetuse, another cliff top castle which fell years before Queribus. We were there late in the afternoon alone with the dying sun. You can't escape the powerful feeling which remains as you gaze over the walls and wonder what it must have been like to be there surrounded by a ruthless enemy knowing all the other strongholds had been captured and the Cathars slaughtered. Like Montsegur, a clifftop fortress we viisited earlier in the Pyrenees Queribus resonates still !

The countryside is dry with small trees and rocky hills, grapes in the valleys and tree lined streams and rivers. The area is called the Ariege and is very different to the softer, moister country to the West.

At Puylaruns we visited another hilltop castle that had been occupied by Cathars and used by the French for centuries to guard against the Spanish. We spoke to some Spanish visitors about this and they smiled and said barriers are built these days in other ways and for other reasons.

Back in the Vallee d'Ossau

We have been fortunate to here when the beautiful autumn weather has arrived and are attempting to take full advantage of it. The days are splendid - incredible blue skies framed by the peaks, the air is cool and fresh - just cool enough to make it enjoyable to sit in the sun for a picnic. The forest even in the middle of the day is dark and cool and the trees are in full leaf with just a hint of a change happening. Stock are fat and shining and pastures in the high mountains are drying off and looking as though they are in need of a rest. Walking is brilliant and we are recovering our mountain legs, slowly and painfully at times as we are inevitably either climbing up or scrambling down !!

Toulouse

TOULOUSE AND ALBI - We tarried in Toulouse on the banks of the Garronne, tippled with Toulouse- Lautrec in Albi and trod on the banks of the Tarn.

Toulouse is a large, working city with a sizeable student population and a cosmopilitan feel due to the aeronautical industry which is based close to the city. It is a no nonsense sort of city, grimy but laid back and lively at night time. The city is spread along the banks of the Garronne with beautiful old pink buildings and some wonderful churches. The river in the long summer evenings is a place to relax and stroll and generally has a gathering of young people enjoying the slow sunsets on the terraces, making music, conversation and playing petanque.
The churches are amazing when you consider the time they were built, 11th and 12th centuries. Built to impress, convert and subdue, the size, architecture, stained glass windows and impression of power and wealth must have had a powerful effect on a population that was largely living in mud and stone houses- they are impressive to us today. A visit to the town and the cathedral on market day would have had most of the population quaking in their shoes and prepared to toe the line for the rest of the week at least.

Travelogue - Gers

We have spent 2 months or so wandering around the south of France and over the next few days I will briefly describe the journey and deal with some places in more depth at later times.

GERS - We gathered strength in the Gers, arming ourselves with Armagnac - soft, rolling country with vines, corn, sunflowers, ducks and geese, large splendid farmhouses and hilltop villages.

Laruns again

We are back in Laruns after some travelling through the south of France. It is wonderful to be back and we will now be able to post to the site regularly.

Back in the Vallee d'Ossau