Second try... Stage 82 -- Chalet de la Maline to Moustiers-Sainte-Marie

(posting problems rear their ugly heads again)

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Friday, Oct 12th, 2007

It took us 2 days to get to the mountains, and 80 to hike through them. Today we finally came down out of them for good. Oh, there are still some hills to be crossed ahead of us -- the Luberon and the Alpilles -- but both are separate from the Alps through which we have been hiking for so long.

The feeling when we came up to the top of that last ridge and saw ahead of us the flat Plateau de Valensoie stretching out into the hazy distance of an autumn afternoon was for me much more satisfying than seeing the sea from the heights above Monaco. Then I knew that we still had a significant amount of tough hiking to do. Now all we have ahead of us are gravy days, or at least that's the way it seems.

Today is also significant for two other reasons: we only have 10 stages left until the end of the hike, and today is the last day the three of us will hike alone, since our father will join us tomorrow for the remainder of the H2H.

But seeing the flat plain was the most remarkable thing: I can't get over it. The mountains had come to seem endless and it ws if I had forgotten what the world could look like away from them. The sea didn't count somehow -- perhaps because it is always that way and there is no difference between near and far. But the plains -- it felt like you could see for ever....

And it was another great hike. The first hour was along the road on the northern edge of the Gorge du Verdon, with continual spectacular views across and down into it, then came a couple of hours along a trail about 2/3 of the way up the canyon walls. After that a steep climb to a ridgeline to the north, then after a couple more hours through the endless emptiness of eastern Provence we came to the final descent into the valley of Moustiers-Sainte-Marie.

The village itself is lovely, almost picture-perfect set into a cleft of the mountain with a river tumbling down a ravine through its center. We'll stay here for the next couple of days, meet Dad and our cousin Oliver, and then walk to the west over flat farmland to the Luberon.

We are out of the mountains!

Stage 82 -- Chalet de la Maline to Moustiers-Sainte-Marie

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Friday, Oct 12th, 2007

It took us 2 days to get to the mountains, and 80 to hike through them. Today we finally came down out of them for good. Oh, there are still some hills to be crossed ahead of us -- the Luberon and the Alpilles -- but both are separate from the Alps through which we have been hiking for so long.

The feeling when we came up to the top of that last ridge and saw ahead of us the flat Plateau de Valensoie stretching out into the hazy distance of an autumn afternoon was for me much more satisfying than seeing the sea from the heights above Monaco. Then I knew that we still had a significant amount of tough hiking to do. Now all we have ahead of us are gravy days, or at least that's the way it seems.

Today is also significant for two other reasons: we only have 10 stages left until the end of the hike, and today is the last day the three of us will hike alone, since our father will join us tomorrow for the rest of the way

"Rest" day at the Chalet de la Maline

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Thursday, Oct 11th, 2007

For, I believe, the first time so far on the H2H, we hiked on a day that wasn't a hiking stage day. Around 11 we went down into the gorge once more, crossed a graceful arching bridge over the pitiful trickle of water that in other years and seasons is the mighty Verdon, and hiked downstream along the Sentier de l'Imbut.

Whoa! The Sentier Martel was impressive, but this was even better. The gorge became ever narrower and the path ever more rugged. At times we hiked in a gallery cut into the rock walls, holding on to cables, a hundred feet above the stream. Neither Dad nor Mel would have enjoyed it :-).

At the end of the trail the river disappeared under a jumbled mess of huge boulders, which I would have been tempted to explore further if I had not been alone: the other two had refused to hike any further after lunch, apparently remembering what rest days have been traditionally used for on the H2H.

So, the hike took about four hours in total for me: an easy day. For dinner we (Russ and I) had raclette -- and Brigite assured me that despite appearances she had not given us what would usually be given to four or maybe six people. I'm feeling rather rotund.

Tomorrow we hike to Moustiers-Sainte-Marie, where I should have cellphone contact once more. This will be good for three things: I can upload these last couple of posts to the blog, I can check and see if the acquisition of a company on whose board I sit went through as planned, and lastly I can let Lidia know that we were once again not shot by hunters.

Assuming, of course, that we aren't shot tomorrow.

Stage 81 -- Rougon to Chalet de la Maline

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Wednesday, Oct 10th, 2007

Well, les Gorges du Verdon and the Sentier Martel lived up to their reputation: a wonderful hike. We started late because the baker in Rougon overslept and bread wasn't ready until 9:40. Then Russell couldn't find his camera (eventually he went back to the Gite and retrieved it from his bedside table). So we didn't really set off until around 10... which was just as well since the fog didn't dissipate until around 10:15.

We went down past Point Sublime into the gorge -- a mere 10m or so wide at the point of entry. From there the trail went up and down stairs and ladders, through tunnels (the longest of which was over 1km), at times right next to the river, at times far above it, for about 12km until the climb out to the Chalet de la Maline where we were to spend the night.

Unlike the past several days, we saw, as expected, many other hikers -- the trail is one of the more famous in Europe -- but it didn't feel crowded. The terrain is extremely rugged: after seeing it one understands why the gorge was first explored in the 20th century.

The Chalet de la Maline is one of the least well sound-insulated buildings I have ever come across: sitting in our bunkroom I can hear every word being said in the dining room below, or the rooms on either side for that matter. Furthermore, both the building and its gardienne are somewhat quirky, the former having, for example, 6 showers, 14 wash-basins (plus a wash-basin in each 8 person bunkroom), but just 2 toilets... for 80 beds... while the latter gave Russell his first "Doreen Whitehead" moment on this trip.

Those who have read my account of our hike across England on the Coast-to-Coast trail (see c2c.eurohiker.net) will recognize the name Doreen Whitehead as belonging to one of the true dragons of our times. Brigite, the gardienne, does not come close to attaining Doreen's terrifying rigidity, but she has her moments.

Such as when we arrived and she asked if we would like some split-pea soup (which we did), and then when Sally requested hot chocolate along with the soup (the day had ended a little cool) Brigite made a pained face and explained that, since soup and hot chocolate so didn't go together, Sally could have either one or the other now, then the other or the one in an hour or so if she still wished, but not both at the same time. Sally, perhaps because of her years in the military, quickly recognized the futility of protest and opted for soup :-).

At dinner, which was quite nice and all home-made, she forbade Russell to salt his meat before cooking it on the mini-barbecue on our table -- no, no, she said, afterwards -- the salt afterwards. Russell, having not been in the military, restrained himself only with difficulty, and was heard to mutter after she left that if she was going to make him cook his own dinner she ought to let him cook it as he wished!

Stage 80 -- Castellane to Rougon

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Tuesday, Oct 9th, 2007

After a satisfyingly immobile rest day in Castellane we started late today because I had to handle some business. After buying lunch (I have become very fond of having a piece of Quiche Lorraine) we set off around 10:15 through mist down the deepening Gorge du Verdon. However the sun soon burned its way through and we were able to see the landscape in all its glory: VERY IMPRESSIVE. Already. And it only really gets spectacular tomorrow.

It was a short hike, about 4.5 hours, and it seems as if one of the consequences of this is to leave Russell with too much creative energy. As we were walking down to Rougon towards the end of the hike he suddenly motors by me following, apparently, a stick he was holding in an outstretched hand. "Follow the stick", he kept intoning, "Follow the stick."

For those who know Russell well enough, which for the purposes of this reminiscence is a group that is probably limited to his immediate family, there was no practical or conceptual difference to the invisible dog he used to have dragging him around when he was 12. Looks like he has had more than just a metabolic reset....

Rougon, the village where we are staying for the night is tiny, charming, medieval, and superbly positioned high over the Verdon River with a view into the narrow part of the gorge to the West. Very nice. Even better: their restaurant is open for the night so we will get dinner!

Oh, and for those who have let me know that they are concerned by my accounts of a countryside teeming with hunters: we saw and heard none today. Apparently they are much more active on the weekend, so we should be ok for another few days at least.

Another poetic contribution -- Dreamers of the Alps

Once more our aunt Rosalind has put pen to paper, at least metaphorically, and crafted an H2H-themed poem. Enjoy!

----

Dreamers of the Alps

They are the Talk of the Alps, that plodding line of three
Together where'ere they go, in stalwart unity,
Almost, indeed, a trinity!
The locals speak in solemn tone
Of gallant feats with not a groan!
Such steely brows, such earnest souls
Speak volumes of their lofty goals!
The first in red, the giant last, the valorous girl between
Surge onwards, at one, through the Alpine scene.

But cows have this gift, it is said,
To hear what is in the human head.
Our thoughts, our feelings fly to them
That buzzing tide they cannot stem!
And those fed on the mountain streams
Hear each and every of the dreams.
Of the trinity of three.

"I long for a taxi in the valley"
Surely that's Sally?
"Pray God there's no Porkie in the shower
With a snout both leering and dour"
We're betting that's Russell, so prone to cower!
"If only Mont Blanc had glaciers of cream
Whipped and with nuts and soft jelly beans"
Such visions must come from the guy in red,
Who thinks with his stomach more than his head!
"I just wish it were over, I'll then lie in clover
And paint my toe-nails pink"
That's Sally, we think!
"I have to report to the Alpine Alien Agency
Re a matter of porcine urgency,
Our meaty limbs are under threat!"
That's Russell, whom we just now met
(Is he crazed or just dazed?)
"I hear there's a wonderful bar in Nice
Where glorious fare will put me at peace"
Their leader, of course, that avid feeder!!

Knowing nought of airborne revelation
Our glorious team greet hikers from every nation
Who gaze in jelly-legged admiration
At the trinity of three,
So wonderful to see!

But, lo! There booms a choir of bovine bells
Across the peaks and vales
They're telling frightful tales
About our doughty males …………(and damsel)

"Their dreams are like candy floss
And that includes the boss!
We hear their airy-fairy thoughts
Laced with desires of every sort!
Leisure and pleasure abound in their dreams
A bed lined with silk, a pillow rich in down,
A sumptuous restaurant in the best street in town
Cakes topped with cheese, they're not hard to please!
Ignore those lofty brows, just listen to us cows!

But the folk of the Alps and the weary walkers
Don't have a clue about bovine talkers.
Transfixed, they watch that noble line of three.
"Just watch them go and go!" They cry,
"The first in red, the giant last, the valorous girl between
Surge onwards, at one, through the Alpine scene!"

Stage 79 -- Brianconnet to Castellane

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Sunday, Oct 7th, 2007

A mixed bag, the hotel in Brianconnet: on the one hand they served the largest, most heavily laden pizzas that I have ever seen (and charged a pittance for them), but on the other the beds were like bananas, and the owner was incapable of providing us with a packed lunch. It seems as if Sally had the best of it: her chambre d'hotes (B&B that also does dinner) was very nice, the food good and plentiful, the bed comfortable, and the company congenial. Worth the walk, she felt.

Dinner table conversation apparently turned to hunting and her hosts told her a couple of things. A little disturbingly, they said that the hunters shoot one another all the time. And amusingly they said that the wild boar appear to be way smarter than the hunters: when the hunt is on the south side of the valley, they regularly see boar trotting by their place on the north side heading upslope into the forests. I wonder what the kill ratio is of hunters vs. boar? And vs. hikers?

The hike was very like the day before: beautiful countryside, no other hikers, frequent sounds of hunters, and lots of whistling. We went over the watershed between the Var and the Rhone (well, actually the Verdon, but it ultimately flows into the Rhone) at a village called Soleilhas around midday. All downhill from here! We wish....

We got lucky with lunch: there was a restaurant in Soleilhas, and it was open, and it served plentiful and hearty food, so we were not forced to eat the slowly defrosting loaf of bread which was all that our host in Brianconnet had given us. That cast a completely different light on the afternoon than I had feared, and it was with a significantly improved attitude that we walked off after lunch over the highest remaining point on the H2H: the 1365m Col de Saint-Barnabe. Quite a change from the Pas de Cavale!

On the way down along a forest road we stepped aside to allow a convoy of eight vehicles to pass, one of which was a pickup truck transporting two dead wild boar. Apparently the hunters do win from time to time. On a related note, I saw no dead hunters or hikers.

After a long downhill, shortly before we got to Castellane, we stopped for a few minutes to rest our tired feet. It was another fairly long day -- almost 7 hours -- and since it was the fifth in a row our feet and legs were starting to feel severely compromised. Russell being Russell expressed his feelings at this state of affairs in a series of loud incoherent cries, prompting the lady of the house behind which we were sitting to come and see what was wrong.

One thing led to another and we spent a pleasant hour chatting with her and her husband over coffee and orange juice in their garden. We talked about the usual subjects -- our hike, the drought, hunting, and wild boar. He works in Nice and he said that it has only rained twice there in the last 12 months and that the trees are starting to die. They said that they detest the hunters, and also whistle whenever they go out into the woods at this time of the year, usually when looking for mushrooms, but that there haven't been any this year on accont of the drought.

On the subject of wild boar, he pointed to his rooted up lawn and said that if he had a gun he would have been able to shoot a couple from his living room window the night before. Apparently there are tons of the destructuve little beasties around, and, one assumes, would be even more if the hunters didn't kill a bunch each year, so maybe the hunters are something of a necessary evil.

Castellane is a slightly larger village than those we have seen over the last few days, and with a spectacular setting on the Verdon River just next to a huge rock monolith (200m high) on the very top of which is perched a church. Another time I'd be interested in climbing up there. But not today. Today, our rest day, I'm going to do as little as possible!