Belatedly today I remembered a piece of old wisdom that I should have thought of before: on hot days, get up early and get the bulk of your hiking done before midday.
So, we left at 11.
Although Nietzsche may have been right that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, it certainly doesn't seem to make you smarter.
It is perhaps unnecessary to say it, but it was another very hot day. After a long and leisurely breakfast in our very pleasant B&B La Belle de Nuit (whose owner remembered me from five years earlier on the H2H), we set off along the northern edge of the Luberon range. It was warm, but under the trees not oppressively so, and we had recovered well from the stresses of the Luberon crossing the day before. So we made good time and arrived in Menerbes shortly after 1PM.
For those who don't know Menerbes, it is one of the loveliest villages of France, set up high on a long rocky outcrop with ancient houses and spectacular views over the Luberon valley. It is where Peter Mayle lived and wrote about in his series of books about Provence... and as a result has become a tourist Mecca and in the meantime 60% of the houses are owned by Americans and English. We admired the views for a few minutes and then retired to the cool cavelike interior of Les Delices de Charlotte where we had a very satisfying lunch including (for my part) a liter and a half of mineral water (endeavoring to recharge a few salts...).
We came back out into the mid-afternoon sun at around 2:30 and headed towards Goult. It was HOT once more. As has been the case all three days so far, there has been little wind, and the little there has been has come from the south (and has thus been hot and humid). Fortunately the walking was nowhere near as strenuous, but despite that by 4PM I once more needed a long break (no dizziness this time, but I noticed that I had stopped sweating... and that's never a good thing :-). So, we sat in a shady corner of a field and I poured water over my head, upper body, and legs for a while.
A half hour later I felt more or less recovered and we climbed the 90m up to Goult. Oof! In the Northern Alps 90m is trivial... here, in the heat, it felt like a half-marathon. I think that if Oliver hadn't been with me I would have almost certainly succumbed to the temptation of the cafes around the village square, and, after a cool bottle of mineral water, have called for a taxi to take me to Roussillon. But the fact that he was soldiering on uncomplainingly somehow engendered enough motivation (was it pride? competitive instincts? responsibility -- not wanting to let him down? -- I'm really not sure) to keep me going.
He has great reserves of toughness, Oliver, and I doubt many other people would have continued... and if I had been hiking with someone who wanted to or needed to take a taxi, almost certainly I'd have done so too. So, in a very real way, he is responsible for the H3H still being a through hike -- all the way by foot, without breaks. All hail Oliver the Great!!
The rest of the way to Roussillon -- about another 2 hours -- was an easy stroll through rolling hillls along minor roads and lanes as the temperatures waned... thank goodness. We stumbled into town around 7:30PM, checked in to our hotel, and took the lift up to our second floor room. There ensued many sound effects as we sat down, got up, took of hiking clothes, etc... particularly from Oliver. He may be uncomplaining while hiking, but he makes up for it once the hike is over ;-). Showers, dinner (excellent -=- I'll post a picture shortly), and we were done. What a day!
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