Canadians in Provence

It's Sunday afternoon in Avignon; knowing that I have 8 fellow Canadians in my group, I attempt the practical joke of I-don't-speak-English -- and with a very thick French accent -- something I promised myself to keep up all evening. It lasts about 5 minutes. I blow my cover, letting the group know they've crossed an ocean only to find one of their own to lead them through the hills of Provence.

Here we are, a Canadian invasion of Provence, ready to attack the toughest of trails:

But equally important is the food. Our first place of stay is hidden deep in the limestone mountains in the town of Gigondas, surrounded by a sea of reputed vines. Below is my dessert on the first evening, as much a work of art as a dish: a mango whatchamacallit-something-or-other (I wasn't listening to the waiter when served, my attention focused on the plate...)

Walking day 1: I suppose we have to walk off the great foods, and earn our evening's feast to come. And so we climb into the vineyards behind the hotel, admiring views of Mont Ventoux and the vines of Gigondas. Everyone in the group has quite a bit of hiking experience, and so I lead them on a lesser-known side trail, climbing high above the Rhône valley, with outstanding panoramas:

Our lunch:

...followed by a snooze: teach us Ronn, master of snoozes:

After our walk we return to the village of Gigondas for wine tasting in the main square:

And then dinner: a marriage of foie-gras and melon in various forms, a picture that doesn't really work out but a dish that's absolutely fabulous...

Walking day 2: actually, let's rewind a few hours, into the night, providing a never-ending grumbling of thunder and heavy rains. The first rains of the season: in some towns of the region over 30cm would flow through the streets during the day, causing some major flooding.

I have never missed a day of hiking in my 5 years of guiding, and today would be no exception, makeshift raingear and all:

The parched tracks, after 2 months of dryness, all of the sudden become muddy with the rains, and provide some slipping and sliding along the way:

But the sun returns quickly, highlighting the bunches of ripe grapes ready to be picked:

In the afternoon we are transferred to the town of Buoux (for pronunciation, remember the golden rule: "pukes" with a "B"). After visiting a truffle oak plantation we head down a centuries-old mule track towards the base of a canyon...

...to here: the Auberge des Seguins, a 17th century goat farm, restored with taste, modern yet faithful to its rustic beginnings. Though we're in the middle of nowhere, in the heart of the Luberon mountains, in a stone-built hamlet with a night full of stars and the sound of the waters, Ipads and Blackberries are removed from their holsters (I should think about confiscating all those toys...)

...except maybe dice. Yes, for all those in mergers and acquisitions, the plural of die is dice!!! (inside joke)

Here's the Auberge des Seguins in the morning, without a doubt my favourite place to stay in Provence. Thanks to Amélie and her great team for making us feel so welcome.

Walking day 3: after following the Aiguebrun gorge we climb to the lost hamlet of Sivergues. Population: 40.

And one dog named Chopin:

Our morning break is taken at the Castellas goat farm, where I fail in negotiating some goat cheese for the group for lunch, but succeed in getting us some coffee.

From the ridge of the Luberon moutains the view of Mont Ventoux is clear and inviting. How about next year? (was the pitch good on that one, Ronn?)

Descending back to the Auberge des Seguins we visit the Buoux Fort, 3000 years old, filled with protective walls, drawbridges, silos, vertiginous cliffs,

...and the secret steps as an escape route. Here John negotiates the steps with ease:

Walking day 4: we head back up the ridge of the Luberon, with outstanding views, including the Mediterranean to the south and the Alps to the east.

Snooze-master up to his old tricks after lunch...

...before a long descent on the south face of the Luberon, through the thyme-laden hills, and down to the village of Vaugines.

Café in Vaugines: closed. No beer. Fail

Walking day 5: in Saint Rémy de Provence, set among the landscapes immortalized by Van Gogh, we head into the Alpilles mountains for a morning walk...

Things get serious in the evening, when pastis is mixed with a game of pétanque:

The game is picked up quickly by the competitive Canucks, realizing the similarities in scoring and in strategy to their sacred game of curling:

Setting up the line, asking for an in-turn draw to the button. The line is good. HURRY!! HARD!!

The evening ended in a singalong at the hotel led by John, where food was eaten, where Canadiana was sung, where wine flowed, and where we were asked by the hotel management to keep it down.

Question: how do you get 9 Canadians to keep it down?

Answer: you say: "hey, Canadians, keep it down".

Works like a charm.

Walking day 6: back up to the ridge of the Alpilles mountains, under a canopy of pines, before an exquisite path along the top of the mountain, with 360° views...

On the ridge, at our lunch spot:

And in the evening, after 6 days of walking in our legs, a visit of the town of Arles, all dressed up for its bull fight:

Some thoughts from John:
"Our one week of rambling in Provence in 2010 proved to be a delight. Exquisite French cuisine, beautiful landscapes, and new friends. Stuart led us with humour, and encyclopedic knowledge of the pathways, vegetation and history of the area."