Oradour-sur-Glane

Oradour-sur-Glane is a small town in the Haute-Vienne department in the Limousin region of France.  On 10^th June 1944 642 men, women and children, virtually the entire population of the town, were brutally murdered by a German Waffen SS Panzer Division.  Entering the remains of the town the first thing I noticed was a battered metal sigh propped up against the trunk of a tree bearing the word SILENCE.  A short walk on we passed the fairground where, on that fateful day, the occupants of the town were rounded up before they were massacred and burnt.   The ruined buildings still look raw even after seventy years.  The warm autumn colours did nothing to soften the harsh reality.  Today there is a new town nearby, but the original has been maintained as a permanent memorial and museum - a testimony to the cruelty humans can inflict on each other.  

The Cirque de Navacelles

The Cirque de Navacelles

I’m not a fan of driving on narrow roads, especially steep, winding, uphill with the risk of rock-fall ones.  Luckily it was a Monday and there was little traffic around.  I drove slowly, the car inching forward, the road becoming narrower.  The road broadened as we got to the top.    The hair-raising drive had been worth it.  The view looking down towards the Cirque from the information centre was breath-taking.  There was a good restaurant here too and we sat tucking into homemade quiche and salad all the while, enjoying the stunning vista.  The imposing Cirque was formed millions of years ago when the River Vis eroded a deep channel through the base of the valley, creating an incised meander which eventually eroded through creating a cut-off at the neck of the loop.  This left an oxbow lake, which later dried up.  The lush emerald green grass, the only patch of arable land for many miles around, shows clearly where the water used to be.   

Having driven here it was now my turn to be a passenger.  The drive down deep into the Cirque didn't disappoint!  At the bottom there were small clusters of houses, clearly inhabited.  The houses were pinned in on all sides and I wouldn’t want to live here – busy with tourists in the day and then dark and deserted.  We were surprised to find a gift shop, creperie and an auberge.  The cascading river Vis made a thunderous sound as it went on its way down the hillside.  There had been storms a few days previously so the flow of water was impressive.   We climbed up to the top of the mound where a statute of the Virgin Mary presides.    A swarm of bees buzzed around the base of the statue where they had made a nest a good deterrent to would-be scramblers.    

View from the other side

The sinuous roads

After a cold drink at the auberge, we drove out and up the other side – the road not quite as tortuous as before.  We parked at a swanky new visitor centre to get another perspective on the view.  Unfortunately, it being a Monday, the posh new visitor centre was closed! 

The rushing River Vis

A Close Encounter.............!

The village of La Vinzelle is famous for its very large bell, La Campana Bella, but we were here to walk on the Sentier des Buissieres, which starts by the cemetery.   It is a two hour circular walk wending its way around the village with some short ascents and descents.  The prettiest point was high up when the path led through a carpet of purple heather.   The views up here were breathtaking.  At first the village was above us clinging to the hillside and then, as we gained height, we were satisfied to see it below us.

A little over halfway we heard voices and went to investigate.  It was a group of hunters, clad in bright orange, overlooking a field below the path.   We were surprised to see them as it was a main walking path, a Saturday and lunchtime!  The eldest hunter squinted at us and when we asked if it was dangerous for us to carry on along the path he said we should turn back.    We’ve never been good at going back!   We explained we wanted to continue – he looked a bit unsure and then two more walkers hurried by so he had no choice, but to let us carry on.  One of the hunters had a radio and said he would let the other hunters know we were on the path.  As we left, he wished us “bonne chance,” which was slightly disconcerting! 

I’ve never been fast at going downhill, but the risk of getting shot made my legs move more quickly.  I was pleased I was wearing a bright red top.  We could hear the dogs in the woods above us and then suddenly they were behind us.  Reaching a clearing, where we hoped we would be seen, we stood and watched, being sure to make lots of noise.  The hunting dogs had so much character and were surprisingly agile as they made their way over the rocks.  They were completely disinterested in us.  Their tails wagged enthusiastically as they picked up the scent of their prey, a fox which had rushed passed us in a blur a few minutes earlier.  We knew that the hunters were looking for sanglier (wild boar) not foxes.  Looking up I could see a lone hunter perched on an outcrop of rock like a bright orange sentinel.  As we shouted he spotted us and indicated with a wave of his gun that it was safe for us to continue.  

La Vinzelle

The rest of the walk passed uneventfully, thank goodness.  We arrived back at the village and went up to look at the famous bell.  A sign politely asks visitors to refrain from ringing the bell, although it was very tempting! 

Close by, the Auberge du Peyral (open April to September) was doing a roaring trade and we managed to get the last table.  We sat on the airy terrace tucking into delicious salads and sipping cold rose wine as the River Lot sparkled in the sunlight far below.

Auberge du Peyral

The start of the Sentier du Peyral a short circular walk - we did this too!

Getting away - eventually!

Have we lost the ability to just get up and go?  Now we check the weather forecast endlessly, research places to stay, pack some food – in the past we just went and took our chances and it always turned out well.  So on Friday, after a day of procrastinating when we decided that the Pyrenees were going to be too wet, the coast too busy and Spain too far for a weekend, we opted to stay closer to home.  One thing was certain, we had enjoyed our previous camping trip so much that we fancied another night or two under canvas.  We had, of course(!), done some research on the internet for suitable campsites and narrowed it down to two, both on the banks of the River Lot in the Northern Aveyron.  When we arrived at the first campsite the pitches were tiny and everything looked desolate.  The nearby town didn’t look any better, so we carried on up the valley towards the border with Cantal.  What a beautiful place it is.  The second campsite, Camping La Plaine, close to the pretty village of Saint Parthem, looked perfect.  The Dutch owner, told us to choose our pitch – things are very quiet at this time of year.   He also told us about a fabulous walk, the Sentier des Buissieres, (more on that in my next post).    

We pitched our tent overlooking the river and ate our picnic lunch in the sun.    The River Lot here is so different from the broad deep river we know further downstream.  We definitely had a room with a view and the sound of the river rushing by was soporific.  In the morning a family of wild boar were spotted on the opposite bank, but unfortunately we missed them - in the rush to get away we had forgotten to pack our binoculars!  

Escapism

There is something relaxing about camping.  Maybe it’s leaving modern technology behind, or the fact that you wake with the dawn and the sound of birdsong or the fact that you can just chuck anything on to wear and not worry. We just got back from our annual camping trip with our niece.  One night in the tent is all that it takes.  We loaded up the car and went to the same campsite as last year, Camping Ruisseau du Treil.  It’s only a 45 minute drive away, but is far enough to feel like a holiday.  This particular campsite has a lovely swimming pool, although because of our poor summer it was freezing this year! 

A few years ago Richard and I used to wilderness camp.  We’ve stayed in some memorable places.  I remember one particular spot in the Pyrenees.  We had been walking all day, but hadn’t made as much progress as we had hoped so ended up camping high in the mountains.  It was an ominous place, surrounded by tall pinnacles and not helped by the fact that before we erected the tent I stumbled on a memorial plaque to a climber who had died there.  After a sleepless night, we awoke to sunshine and, as we climbed out of the gloomy gulley and reached the crest of a hill we were rewarded by the sight of a shepherd moving his huge flock of sheep singlehandedly by using his voice.  He was unfazed to have an audience.  We’ve also camped in some stunningly beautiful places by babbling brooks miles away from everything and everyone.  Of course the drawback to wilderness camping is the fact you have to carry everything, but I also see this as a blessing as it forces you to pack only the bare essentials and is a step closer to natural world and everything it can throw at you.  Yes there is something relaxing about camping.    

Our big hike in the Pyrenees 2005

The Viaur Valley

The Viaur Valley is a special place.  The river Viaur divides the departments of the Aveyron and the Tarn.  It is our favourite river for swimming and our favourite valley for walking.  There is even a roc escalade (climbing/abseiling area) – we’ll give it a go one of these days.  This time we were heading for the pretty village of Laurelie, which sits nestled in the hills overlooking the valley, opposite the slightly higher village of Bar, which is strung out along a ridge.  We parked the car by Le Moulin de Bar and set out upstream along the road running by the river.  As the road bends, we took a path leading off into the woods.  It is a tranquil path, shady in the summer, with only the sound of the rushing water to accompany you.  After about twenty minutes the path begins its sinuous accent up the hillside.   We were once joined by a ferret on this walk – a first for us!   The creature would bound ahead and wait for us to catch up.  In the end he got bored disappearing into the undergrowth.  It is a fairly gradual climb, but finishes with a short, sharp, steep incline – the view is worth the effort.  The path arrives at Laurelie.  You then have three options, to take the marked footpath to Bar, to take the road to Bar or to walk down the road towards the river.  We took the latter route.  As we sauntered downhill we could see a family of wild boar (sanglier) in the distance.  Even they seemed unhurried on this perfect summer evening.     

Bar

View from the bridge

Marche Gourmande - Lescure Jaoul

Last Saturday, 26^th July 2014 was the 10^th Marche Gourmande (a culinary walk) starting from the little hamlet of Lescure Jaoul.  We first and last did the walk three years ago with our friends who live out that way and it was great fun.  This time we dragged our visitors along to take part.  

Lescure Jaoul in the distance

The walk was 13 kms long.  It is called Marche Gourmande because you walk to each stage of your meal. The final leg takes place in the dark, and you eventually stumble into the village centre, some four hours after starting, for dessert and coffee.  It is hugely popular (we were told that 1,000 people take part) so it is necessary to reserve your place.  It is extremely well organised.  At the beginning of the walk you are given a ticket, which you show at each stop to get your food.  Wine and water are included.  Participants leave in groups from the village centre between 6.30pm and 8pm.  We set off around 7pm.  The sun was shining and we had a spring in our step.  

The first stop, aperos, was welcome and everyone was smiling.  The next leg of the walk to our starter was also okay, but the spring in our step had gone.  There was a feeling of camaraderie with everyone sat at long trestle tables tucking into their food.  As we left the sun was beginning to set.  The next leg of the walk was rather long and in the dark, although it was atmospheric to see a line of wavering torchlight behind and in front of us.  Finally, in the distance we could see the lights of the tent where the main course was being dished up.  There had been fewer smiles on this stage of the walk!  However, the food, which everyone agreed was delicious, helped to restore flagging energy levels.  

The final stage was easy (thank goodness) and we arrived back at the village centre around 11.30pm.  We had even managed to overtake a few people en route!  There was a band playing accordion music and the dance floor was packed with swirling couples – we joined them briefly, but we were no match for their elegance!   The evening was rounded off by a firework display.  I would do the whole thing again in a shot – not sure all our visitors would, but we all agreed it would be the talking point of their stay for years to come!    

Flagstaff and Palm Springs two very different cities!

Ancient Puebloan dwelling

It took us about three hours driving to reach Flagstaff from Monument Valley.  En route we stopped off at the Wupatki NationalMonument, which protects the ancient dwellings of Puebloan peoples.  Whilst having a look at one of the ruins we passed a woman who had collapsed due to the heat - the temperature was just over 100.  The park rangers were with her, but it was a stark reminder of the need to carry water even if only embarking on a short walk!  

The visitor centre housed information on the Native Americans, in particular the Navajo tribes.  An exhibition told how they had lost their land, which had arisen because, as an incentive to settle the west, railroad companies were granted ownership of huge tracts of public domain land along their routes. 

lava flow

Further into the park is the Sunset Crater Volcano National Monument, which features a 1,000 foot volcanic cone and its lava flows (the picture isn't great!)

Flagstaff is a charming town.   It is located on the original Route 66 and is about 75 miles from the Grand Canyon.  It is home to the Lowell Observatory, which is famous for confirming the existence of the planet Pluto.  With its high elevation (nearly 7,000 ft) the temperature was a pleasant 79 degrees when we arrived (it was the first time we had seen temperatures like this since leaving San Diego!) We spent a relaxing morning wandering the streets looking in all three of the huge walking stores there.  In the afternoon we visited the Museum of Northern Arizona, where we learnt more about the different Native American tribes in the area.  We also learnt that there are mountain lions roaming the area, which explains this road sign we saw in the Grand Canyon (I thought it referred to bobcats!)  We visited Walnut Canyon, but unfortunately they close the path at 4pm on the dot so we missed it by five minutes.   We were able to do the short rim walk and look at the cave dwellings far below us. 

We stayed in England House B&B.  Our hosts were wonderfully welcoming.  The gourmet breakfasts were amazing.  We had only intended to stay one night, but were seduced by Flagstaff so stayed for two.  We ate dinner in Carillo, a Latin restaurant where the food and wine was so good we decided to go there the following night too.   

PALM SPRINGS

Palm Springs is about a six hour drive from Flagstaff and two hours from San Diego so it made sense to spend our last night there.  Located in the middle of the desert, with its manicured lush green lawns, golf course and countless swimming pools it had to be seen to be believed.  Purpose built for pleasure, it couldn’t have been more different to Flagstaff!  It is surrounded by arid mountain peaks, which probably helps to protect it from the sprawl of further development.  Every Thursday evening there is a night market in downtown Palm Springs so we had a wander.  The temperature at night was still uncomfortably warm.  We ate a delicious meal at Ruben and Ozzy’s; while a soft spray of cooling water wafted over us (these cooling sprays are not good if your hair is of the frizzy type!)  It seemed wrong to be treating water in such a frivolous way, but we were told that water rates in Palm Springs are cheaper than in Oregon!  Palm Springs is located above a natural water basin, which may explain why water is in such a plentiful supply.  There was a lot more we could have explored, including a ride on the aerial tramway, but we were only there for a short time and the temperature was 115^oF!  Thank goodness for the Desert Riviera Hotel – a quiet oasis. 

Monument Valley

When I was growing up we watched a lot of cowboy films.  The scenery at Monument Valley is exactly as I’d imagined cowboy country.  It turns out a lot of films were made here in just five square miles.  The view is awe inspiring, the sandstone peaks and pinnacles (buttes) rising from the terracotta coloured valley floor up into the blue sky.  Occasionally the odd cloud would brush the tops of the buttes.  The terrain made me think how hard life must have been for the early settlers.  They only get six inches of rain a year here.

Monument Valley is just over the border from Arizona into Utah so there was a one hour time difference as Arizona has decided not to apply daylight saving time!  There is a 17 mile self-drive through the valley, but the track was rough and we were in the Mustang so didn’t dare embark on it.  The heat when we arrived was scorching so not a good time for walking.  Instead we sat on our balcony and drank in the view.  All the rooms at The View Hotel in the Navajo Tribal Park look out over Monument Valley.  It is one of the few options and the only one with a direct view of the valley.  It is owned and run by Native Americans so it provides employment meaning that people can stay close to their homeland and cling on to their culture.    

Every evening in the summer the hotel screens Wild West films that were made in the area, in an outside setting – John Wayne was showing when we were there – brought back many childhood memories! 

We sat and watched the sun going down – the buttresses and pinnacles taking turns to glow red and orange as the setting sun kissed them with its burning rays.  We slept with the curtain open so as not to miss sunrise, which seemed to begin at 4.30am.  The desert floor glowed as the sky turned from inky black to midnight blue.  The sun crept up peering above the first buttress before filling the valley with its glow. 

There is a four mile walking trail – the Wild Cat trail, but it was too hot to do it and we were in rattlesnake country.  If we had stayed for longer it would have been good to have gone out on horseback – the scenery really is suited to it.

Next stop was Flagstaff.  En route we stopped for lunch at Cameron Trading Post – the guacamole was delicious!  The ceiling of the restaurant was made of intricate moulded tin – we later learnt that as well as being decorative, tin ceilings are used to help stop fires spreading.  

Journey through Northern Arizona

Ten minutes from the green apple orchards of Julian we emerged into the blinding glare of the desert.    

The eight hour drive from Julian to the Grand Canyon was through a vast nothingness.  Much of it was along Route 78.  It wasn’t boring as the desert landscape was ever changing.  Just when you thought nothing could possibly survive in such a harsh environment you would arrive at a small town.  Weirdly there were lots of areas set up for camping cars parks or RV vehicles as they call them here – perhaps they are used in the winter months?  The temperature soared to 105^oF!  A huge inland lake, the Salton Sea, twinkled in the distance like a mirage.  We could see an area of green in the distance. It stood out for miles against the otherwise parched terrain, which stretched towards the distant horizon.  It turned out to be fields of grass being cultivated for hay.  There were hay bales everywhere.  Then we saw the reason – an industrial cow farm. I have never seen so many cows crammed into such a limited space.   We were stopped at a police checkpoint – Richard asked the reason for the check and was told that it was because highway 78 ran close to the Mexican border. 

Finally, we climbed up out of the desolate plains.  As the we gained height, the temperature dropped to a more manageable 90^oF.  The desert was soon forgotten as the road twisted through coniferous woods arriving at Prescott, a large town with manicured parks and a sense of purpose.   On the outskirts we passed ranches where the cattle roamed free.  Then, surprisingly, after this brief interlude, we were back out in the desert once again.  We drove through the town of Williams, on the original Route 66 and a popular stopping off point for the Grand Canyon as it’s only an hour away.  The town was overflowing with cheap motels, restaurants and tourists.

We were approaching the Grand Canyon from the south.  There were no clues as to what lay ahead.  I liked this surprise element.  It was $25 for a seven day pass to the National Park.   I sensed the Canyon long before I saw it, a breezy open abyss. Then I saw the pink hue of the rocks in the distance before the vista opened up.   Apparently most visitors only spend three to four hours visiting the Grand Canyon, so we were lucky as we were staying for three nights.  We stayed in the Yavapai Lodge complex.  It’s a mile away from Grand Canyon village and hence quieter.  A pleasant 15 minute walk through pine trees was all it took to get to the visitor centre and the rim (a shuttle bus also takes you there).

We embarked on the Southern Rim Trail and were pleased to have the path to ourselves for a lot of the time.  We were admiring the view (we did that a lot) when a condor soared through the air just in front of us – it was so close we could see its vivid red head.  Unfortunately I didn’t have my camera ready!  We had planned to do the walk in one day. However, although its an easy walk the heat got the better of us (they were having a heatwave) so we did the walk over two days.  Jet lag meant we were up in time to see the sunrise, although sunset was better.  On our last evening we walked to Shoshone Point – a quiet spot where we were able to watch the sun going down in solitary contemplation.  The Grand Canyon is a magical unforgettable place.

California Dreaming

First impressions of San Diego were good.  The city is located on the shores of the Pacific ocean.  Everyone seemed relaxed and friendly.   But I only got a glimpse of the city as only there for the night. We had arranged to hire a car so that we can drive out to the Grand Canyon.  We've been given a bright red Mustang!!! 

We left San Diego and drove to La Jolla.  The beaches here are popular so the roads were busy.  I couldn't believe the number of cormorants, pelicans and seagulls  scattering the rocks and then on the boulders below were seals and sea lions sunning themselves completely unperturbed by the snorkelers and swimmers.

I was impressed by the chipmunk until I heard someone whispering 'look at that woman taking a photo of a squirrel!!' After having a truly tasty lunch in the Whisknladle restaurant we headed for Julian where we are staying tonight in the Eaglesnest B&B.  Julian is an old gold mining town and couldn't be more different to La Jolla!  We've stocked up on plenty of water ready for our traverse of the desert tomorrow - it's at least an 8 hour drive to the
Grand Canyon.

A Walk With William

We last did this walk in April 2013  - see earlier blog post:-  

http://ninetoednomad.blogspot.fr/2013/04/a-walk-down-aveyron.html.  

Then we were lucky enough to see our first otter in the Aveyron River.  No such luck today, although we did spot a deer in the woods at the start of the walk.  The climb uphill took us 45 minutes – we must be out of condition!  As we got to the top, we joined the GR36 on a broad track, where there is a beautiful view of Najac.  The track becomes a tarmac road as it goes through some houses (Le Bastit).  This is where we picked up William!  We tried to reason with him that we were going on a long walk, but he kept following us!  There are GR red and white flashes to mark the way.  After about 25 minutes you turn left at a junction – again it is signposted the GR36.  After 10 minutes you turn right on the Chemin des Enfants where the trees are festooned with toys.  Now there’s an idea for all those pre-loved toys!  

Continue on the path as it goes downhill over a stream and then through a conifer forest.  Ignore the first right fork uphill and keep going straight.  Take the next right fork still on the GR36.  Eventually you will arrive on the edge of Mergieux holiday village.  Since we did the walk last April Mergieux has closed and now looks rather forlorn.  The path now runs downhill to the river Aveyron.   Turn left (right follows the GR36 towards Laguepie).  

We stopped on our usual rock for our picnic – last April the river was so swollen our rock was submerged.   The rest of the walk was a nice easy one by the river back to Najac, the only obstacle being crossing the railway bridge – we had to improvise and so made the rucksack into a lead for William!   

The walk took us longer than usual (5 hours), probably because we sat and pondered along the way, absorbing the movement and life along the river.  And what about William? Well lucky for us he had a collar with his name and telephone number on so we took him home while we made the call.  Unlucky for us the telephone number didn’t work!  So we ended up driving him back to the spot he had joined us where he was reunited with the man who was looking after him – his owners are away.    We were sad to see him go.

The Aveyron Valley Bowl

Najac stretched along the ridge

This weekend we stayed even closer to home – in fact the walk started from our front door!  We followed the yellow flashes of the local PR path.  It is a circular walk descending deep into the Aveyron valley to the river and then climbing back up over a rocky track to the hamlet of La Loubiere.   The walk is detailed in the Topo Guide – Les plus beaux villages de l’Aveyron a pied.  We chose the 9km circuit (walk no. 20).   It is one of my favourite local walks.   Much of it is along quiet roads.  The route takes you past La Singlarie where our friends run an organic farm.  For the most part, the walk rewards the walker with stunning views of Najac and its castle.  As we descended we spotted a bank of wild strawberries, which we feasted on (okay there weren't that many and they were tiny, but oh so tasty!) The climb back out of the valley gets your heart pumping, but it is worth it for the vast panorama when you reach the top.  Occasionally, on a clear winter’s day, you can see the snow-capped Pyrenees looming on the horizon. 

Lunch!

Wild flowers

The Lot Valley

Last weekend we did a wonderful walk in the Lot valley.  It is from the book Au Coeur de la Vallée du Lot, Collection les belles balades de l’Aveyron : 22 balades à faire à pied, à cheval ou en VTT (walk number 14).  We’ve got several of these books and they have some beautiful walks in them as well as listing some interesting historical facts about the area.  They are of course in French.  The books are available from Tourist Offices.  This one cost about 6 Euros.    

12kms in length, the walk starts and finishes in the town of Bouillac.    The walk begins with an ascent (about 300 metres in total).  There are some perfect places for a picnic en route with sweeping vistas over the river and beyond.  After reaching the top, the path stays on the plateau for a while.  We were lucky to see a new-born calf take his first unsteady steps.   The path then descends over a rocky path towards a road – again the views were stunning.  The wild flowers that dotted the hillside gave splashes of colour.   There is a short stretch along the main road and then you cross a bridge over the river before taking a shady path on the right that runs next to the river over level ground.   After about an hour you take another bridge back over the river to Bouillac.  

Everywhere seemed shut, but then we spotted a bar that was open so we were able to reward ourselves with a cold beer.