PROVENCE - ROUSSILLON TO DORDOGNE

14/4 ROUSSILLON!!

Morning run for both the old ones up into the village of Reillane, which perches on a hill, cute as a button & exploding with abundant gardens full of blossom but unfortunately looking down on it’s on sewerage treatment plant.

A clearing day!!  Sun starting to appear, blue sky to the west (where we are going), did an hour or so of school, 1st cuppa tea, then a coffee (why not?), then away from a great roadside stop, along tree lined picture perfect curvy avenues, thru the town of Apt which on this Saturday is holding a huge market and it’s standing room only, certainly none for a 7.5m long Eddie, and it seemed to be mostly bric-a-brac........

So on to Roussillon, another incredibly cute very small hill top village, unique for it’s nearby ochre quarries and subsequently most buildings are reddish.  Found a campsite down the hill run by a pair of very practical women with short hair and deep voices, ever so caring they guided us to a site of our choice, plugged us in and we sat in the sun and ate a lunch of pate, bread from the local boulengerie (=bakery, we love that word!), tomato/cheese/cucumber and strawberry jam slapped together in all sorts of combos, shared about with loud and vehement blessings of each other’s concoctions (ah the simple life!).

Patched Kel’s puncture, onto the bikes and back up the hill to explore the village in more detail.

Street signs in all towns direct to the local boulangerie

  Pulled over for the 2nd time today by the lovely little lady traffic cop who asks us to kindly get off the bikes in the village so we locked em up and hit the Ochre trail, 45 min wander through ochre formations with lots of info on it’s origin and uses, then via the crepery & ice cream shop into the town which is too cute, too pretty to describe.

  Lots of little galleries and touristy shops but still lots of genuine lived in French/Provence class, some pics to help.......

Munching on ice-cream & sight-seeing ( heaven)

There are some 151 “Les Plus Beaux Villages de Francais”, this being one  - but how one ever chooses!

gorgeous red stone & gorgeous blue boy

Rode the bikes back down the hill to Eddie, all enjoyed a warm shower and mum’s marvelous fish curry before a bit of Ace Ventura and bed.

Dice roll

Wil (best natural wonder) - the ochre, the colour and how some is very fine like powder, other quite grainy. My favourite colour is the deep red.

Kel (best natural wonder) - 4 cats cuddling in the sun

Jen (best taste) - the pate on fresh baked bread over a layer of bovril and steakhouse seasoning to garnish!

Jeff (best part) - my son saying his favourite song is Khe Sanh and bellowing out every word!!  

15/4 Gordes and Orange, and Happy Birthday Honey Dan!!

slept in till 9.  No worries, sunny out but cold wind, post school and run/cycle we headed off via the same Boulengerie in Roussillon to the next ‘plus beaux’ village on a hill - Gordes.  As we approached from below we judged it as inferior to Roussillon but as we got closer we were forced to revise that. Parked Ed &  cycled the rest of the way up the white cliffs to be welcomed by another spectacular busy central plaza watched over by a dramatically beautiful fortress with rounded ornate turrets. 

Wil starts a Beanie Kid story distracting all the uphill walking

The French really get out & comb their magnificent countryside on cycle,foot,”camper-cars” and most commonly, dinkie-car sized diesel voitures. This seems in strong contrast to the Spanish whom we rarely saw with towns frequently feeling deserted. The former seem to have continued living in slowly eroding enclosed courtyard arrangements whilst these folk seem always to be sensitively restoring & complementing the old with clever architecture that makes adjustments to open windows & turn living more to the outside. “Bonjour” is literally sung out with so many different melodies & syllables at every passing ( even if pounding up ridiculous gradients on bike or running ) - so much for the hostile or arrogant French!

A refreshingly beautiful church inside as it was light, airy & decorated with uplifting blues & oranges.

Wil tells part 2 of the Beanie Kid story

Eddie headed on to the city of Orange through gorgeous crops of blossom trees, vineyards and waterways to see the grand UNESCO listed RomanTheatre Antique, one of only 3 in the world that boasts its well preserved stage wall. We parked up,braved the screaming wind  & cycled to the centre ( Kel asking why it seemed so hard to move given that we weren’t going uphill)  We were blown away by the immense size and elegant structure and how well preserved it is. Another example of French pride in so tastefully & aesthetically presenting & preserving all things historical and beautiful. 

 We’re getting a fine idea of some of the strategies that aided the success of the Roman Empire as we consider their enormous efforts to unite their community through spectacular arenas & theatres  entertaining and bringing people together of all class and religious background.

With an ice gale blowing,we packed back into Eddie and set Tom for a drive west, cupfuls of dried corn,almonds,peanuts+beans+cherry tomatoes+dried apricots for a snack towards the Dordogne region with it’s (even more?) beautiful villages.  Stopped in a free aire in the town of Bagnols-Sur-Ceze, cheek by jowls with 1/2 a dozen other camping cars, right on a busy roundabout.  But all is private,cozy and soothing in our Ed. 

16/4

screeching traffic ‘round-about music’ all night long. Poor Jeff feeling a bit ragged and planning a quieter,earlier one tonight. I tried a run but traffic thumping with no real lanes pour moi.

Maths and then a day of grocery shopping and into the office at McDonalds for interneting/business & research before setting Tom Tom for Gordes du Tarn .Still hoping for a warm enough sun to possibly canoe/kayak .Alas icy winds and grey skies. Nonetheless, a delightful drive meandering through green fields all the way accompanied by full waterways & canals.

another castle - name?

Through the escargot town,Ales, and up along the Cevennes corniche watching with anticipation as the gradients on the hugging rock walls increase and the water is pressed into serpiginous shapes. Tired, we pull off highway-side and river-side just beyond a small stone town and short of Ste Enimie, the watersports mecca. Sun has timidly come out for a last hooray. We pull out novels & the kids clamber down to the river for a last play.

17/4 Happy 9th birthday Harry! Wish we had internet to skype you - hope you got the email sent yesterday.

Jeff woke to brave the freezing winds on the bike but made the mistake of going downhill first. Unable to feel his toes and fingers, he spun about for an uphill grind and,passing us again, found the town we drove through unawares last night was of unimaginable beauty. Bursting with adjectives, he urged I don another layer, take the camera and go for an exercise of sorts. A hundred meters up the road carved into the rock walls high above us ,sat a grand,stone castle it’s size exaggerated even further by surrounding finger-shaped rock formations ! What!

 And then the most devine old stone bridge to an even tinier sleepy stone, riverside village cluttered with welcoming homes puffing smoke from their decorated chimneys, their coloured wooden shutters not fully open yet allowing one only a glimpse of their posies of fresh window flower arrangements. Sigh.

Back for coffee and breakfast on an orange & pink sandstone rock ( beneath the castle & overlooking the broad,shallow,pebbly bottomed pale blue river). The sun only starts gently warming us at ~1030. Usual school whilst little kids across the road skim stones in the river with their grandma.

A day of unparalleled beauty unfolds as we take about 2 hours to drive 40kms alongside the majestic gorge,gasping,sighing,stopping at look outs & taking a million photos. 

We are treated to sculptured roads, walls of white,red,black & green -some shear & grand and some with steps supporting majestic rock ‘carvings’ in all shapes ,stone tunnels through massive orange mountains ( having to stop,reach out and fold in our rear-vision mirror for the European mirror-kiss as Jeff calls it ) 

and a river,laced at the bottom,sparkling like a jewel, sometimes in delicate beaded threads,at times powerful and white, at times broad ,green and serene and at times in large, crystal clear azure blue-green still pools lazily reflecting the castle on it’s banks. 

Around every bend, another stone village, some ash coloured, some richer reds always with castle or church perched, ancient and handsome.

Too much breathtaking beauty to photograph - will have to store it in our retinas and keep it alive in our collective memories. Must return to canoe,walk in the forests and mountain bike ride along the old moss-covered curved stone ‘highways’ etched closely into the folds of the gorge walls. 

Canoe season has not started yet - way too cold but by the looks of the infrastructure, thousands must crawl around these parts come July. We enviously pass numerous fit, kitted out,muscled cyclists on fancy carbon bikes plowing up endless mountain passes , & are often surprised by their older age. Roadside signs frequently describe the cyclists gradient and remind the already very considerate & aware motorists to be mindful when passing them  - cartoon pic of cyclist & phrase“ pense moi”(think of me). Love this place! 

Steadily, Ed climbs 1000m out of the gorge, through further crops & vivid green fields, past tractors and more creative round-abouts to a 

French lunch roadside beneath another castle whilst motorists whizz past honking in greeting.

Kids read,listen to music,make paper dolls & contentedly chew on a treat of ‘gum-gum’. 

Mr Max calls !!( RPM mate from Toowong) and we plan to rendezvous at the Sarlat markets tomorrow! Fancy that!!

Some 5 hours later after one of our biggest driving days yet, we pull into Gramat at a community aire. 

Wil does his literature review on chapters 3&4 of “All Quiet on the Western Front “ in preparation for ANZAC day at the Somme. Raining again..to sleep.