Wednesday, October 19, 2011

My last week of guiding this season: Peregrine Adventures in the Luberon


There are many paths to choose from in Provence; a spiderweb of trails criss-crossing the hillsides and mountain ranges. And after 6 years and perhaps 600 days out in the field either guiding or scouting, I'm still discovering new paths.

I took my last group of the season along a new trail -- at least new to me -- along the Aiguebrun River in the heart of the Luberon Mountains...





...crossing an old wooden footbridge,



...and taking a swim. The water was around 10°C, and Chelsea was able to brave the waters. (her facial expression lets us know just how cold it was). As any guide should I jumped in as well!




Via the Aiguebrun we reached our place of stay for the next three nights: the Auberge des Seguins. Here Frances is lugging her suitcase among the centuries-old buildings.




The following day we began our walk just outside the village of Gordes. The heart of the village is quite touristy, but the outskirts remain souvenir-shop free, a cluster of stone homes and cobbled paths leading down to the Calavon Valley, and here with an old 4L car.




Climbing up towards the heart of the village of Gordes:




Lunchtime in the countryside, and Chelsea having her dose of chocolate:




The autumn colours (the fustet or smoke tree) adorning a path above Sénanque Abbey and back towards Gordes.





On Wednesday, heading out of the Aiguebrun valley and up towards the village of...





...Sivergues, a small town with a permanent population of about 30.
Sivergues comes from six vierges in French, meaning "six virgins". Apparently, at least as the story is told, the village was first settled by six virgins and one monk. Lucky guy.





Above the village of Sivergues we reached the Castellas farm, where Chelsea did her best to communicate with one of the locals.





The end of the walk took us to the remains of the Fort de Buoux, some parts of which are 3000 years old.





On Thursday morning, after climbing out of the Aiguebrun Valley, and looking back towards the fort on the opposite slope:




A short transfer by car took us to the village of Lacoste, where we visited the ruins of the castle of the Marquis de Sade. Looking out of the old village gate in the picture below, you can contemplate the Roman-tiled roofs of the old homes and Mont Ventoux in the background.





In the village of Séguret at the outset of our last walk:




Walking above the vines on a farming track:






Mont Ventoux seen from our base in Vaison la Romaine. We climbed to the summit on Friday, theoretically a day off for the group, but most were keen on getting to the top. Unfortunately your truly forgot his memory card for the camera the day of the climb, and so no pictures to put on the blog... We saw a group of chamois near the summit; the camera was missed...





In Vaison la Romaine in the old town:





Beth getting to work as we prepare for the wine and cheese evening at the hotel.




A tiny square in the village of Séguret, and Chelsea blending into the background?





The cobbled streets in Séguret:




Our last walk through the vines:





Thanks to Sally, Mina, Chelsea, Frances, Beth, and Bob for a wonderful end to my hiking season.


And now it's back to the office...

Sunday, October 16, 2011

Lenge Leve Norge

24 Norwegians bicycling through Provence, their Viking stature, presence and exuberant joy difficult to ignore, somewhat unsteadying at first, but quickly contagious, and a pleasure and honour to be part of.

I spent the past week cycling through the tiny villages of Provence with a group from central Norway, brought together by their local newspaper: Stjordalens Blad.



"Long Live Norway", written on a tiny road in the heart of the Provençal countryside -- and even chanted by Michel -- to the joy and surprise of the group.




Nearing the end of the first ride we arrived in the village of Fontaine de Vaucluse, the source of the Sorgue River. The waters exit the source at a constant 12°C all year. As a joke I offered a beer to the first person to jump into the waters, and they all started hopping in...




Along the quiet streets outside the village of Pernes les Fontaines:




Philippe worked the support vehicle all week long, taking care of the picnics and flat tires:




Terje outside our hotel in Isle sur la Sorgue, convinced he'll blend into French culture...




The Norwegians can't be slowed down. On their "day off" a group decided to climb to the summit of Mont Ventoux, arguably France's most difficult climb by bike:




A view of the hairpin turns leading to the summit:




But we enjoyed the plains as much as the mountains, cycling along orchards and vineyards and from village to village:




The group was accompanied by Svein Erik Vold, a professional cyclist from Norway, having finished his grueling season. He was kind and helpful all week, and we all hope to see him one day on the roads of the Tour de France.




Outside our winetasting cellar in St. Rémy, still managing to smile after a 2km climb up a rocky road. I had actually wanted to book a winetasting elsewhere, but I managed to mix up the estate names, and had to drag the group up a fairly arduous detour, unplanned. I was furious with myself, but the group accepted the mistake as more of a challenge, always keeping their good humour, and never once -- not any of the 24 of them -- making me feel bad about the error. It's a testament to the kindness and good nature of the group and of the Norwegian people in general.




Visiting the village of Les Baux de Provence:




Proudly displaying a Ventoux jersey after having been at the summit:




Ella enjoying the Provençal sun in a café in the town of Graveson, just south of Avignon.



And here she is again later that day with a helmetful of thyme and rosemary picked on the hills of the Montagnette.




Here's Sonja atop the montagnette and blasted by the Mistral winds.




Halvard and Anne-Brit atop the Montagnette. If you position yourself just right to take the picture, with the cathedral behind the subjects, you can get a devilish result:




After our ride around St. Rémy, and before reaching our hotel, half the group spontaneously stopped for a beer (well, you can't really qualify Norwegians stopping for a beer as "spontaneous", it's quite planned really...)



I'd like to thank each one of the group for such a wonderful time. It was an unforgettable experience for me. If only the Norwegians could export more of their joie de vivre...
Rendezvous next year in Norway for a reunion?

Reconnaissance on the Aiguebrun River

Here are a few photos from last Thursday's reconnaissance walk in the Luberon, as I was creating a new "Roadbook" for Walk Inn.

The regions' network of walking paths is so vast that even after years of experience in the same mountain, there are always new trails to be discovered, such as along the base of the Aiguebrun gorge, seen below:




This part of the path was magnificent, with lush vegetation and pools of water for swimming. But the path here isn't well trodden, overgrown in parts, and no waymarks to be found: I had to be extra careful in writing the written descriptions to guide our self-guided guests.




An old wooden footbridge over the Aiguebrun river:





The reconnaissance was to include a new hotel along the banks of the river: the stunning and elegant Auberge de l'Aiguebrun.





Part of the hotel: day beds along the river...






A short story:


During my day of reconnaissance I crossed paths with a group of 17 walkers from a major American adventure company. The major American adventure company in question, much like most other foreign (non-French) adventure companies, do not use certified and professional mountain guides to lead their groups: they use post undergrad students, who are "leaders" and not guides, happy to be paid to travel. The French guiding diploma isn't a breeze to obtain, needing two years of training and schooling, ensuring that there is a minimum standard in the guiding community, and a sort of protection for those who are certified; it is theoretically forbidden to guide without the diploma.


To try and shorten this story, let's say that on more than one occasion I've pointed out to these trip leaders that they really shouldn't be leading in France, and that they are essentially depriving professional guides -- people who do this for a living and know the region and its paths intimately -- of work. I've actually had to steer such leaders in the right direction at times, literally, as they were lost with their groups... I met the very kind and outgoing leader of the American group in question, one of two leaders actually, and spoke to her without any of the agression I have reserved in the past for "tour leaders". Besides, I would have probably jumped on the opportunity to do what she's doing if I were in her shoes, and would never have guessed how taking the job would impact the situation of local guides. And so I was nice. Friendly. And upon return to my vehicle -- as I had left it to walk the river -- I found the following on my car, a snack that she had also reserved for her guests, and now also for me:


Good karma. It's a small token really, but a good lesson in restraint and in kindness.

With Peregrine Adventures ...

I didn't get to lead this holiday for Peregrine at all last year, which was quite disappointing; it's one of my favourites to guide: a good mix between the in-the-middle-of-nowhere Auberge des Seguins and active town of Vaison la Romaine, beautiful scenery, and lovely walks. And plus these trips always bring a group of Aussies and Kiwis, who are probably the best travellers on the planet.

We began outside the town of Bonnieux, on what would be a sizzling hot week. Below Lynne is approaching the village of Buoux, nearing the end of the first day's walk.






We spent the first three nights in the Auberge des Seguins, seen below, from the cliff that you can make out at the very bottom left of the photograph. I zoomed in to take the picture: the cliff is about 100m high here; I joked with the group that we were going to rappel down to the Auberge, but we found a hidden mule track -- hundreds of years old -- that descends gently to the base of the cliff.

I've probably mentioned it several times in this blog, but I'll repeat it once more: the Seguins is my favourite place to stay in the region. Cut off from the world (except from wifi reception, which is slowly filling in even the most remote locations), no roads, no television, at the intersection of the most beautiful paths in the Luberon mountains, total bliss.





Yours truly from my room in l'Auberge des Seguins (yes, despite the outward appearance, there's running water and even a private bathroom in each room!).








Our second walk brought us to the village of Gordes; it's a fairly touristy village, a victim of its beauty, and I like to start walking into the village from outside, up the cobbled streets where the tourists don't venture. It's much prettier without the façades of tourist shops:





Some goodies after our picnic break:





Above the Auberge des Seguins, at the Castellas goat farm, where I often encounter friendly pigs and goats:





On our "free day" I took the group to the summit of Mont Ventoux, probably my favourite hiking in the region. Below Julie is contemplating a 1000m deep rockslide:






Though Ventoux is more known for its cycling, its walking paths are stunning, first through forests of larch, beech, and pine, and then up through the scree towards the summit.






Though Tod had other ideas about how to climb to the summit...

Starting from the town of Bedoin, Tod climbed the mythical mountain and met us at the top for a well-deserved lunch.






Gotcha Chamois!!!

I took this shot at about 1700m along the north face of the mountain. Chamois spend most of their time around the steep slopes of scree, where their climbing skills are unmatched (they could beat any Tour de France cyclist to the summit from the base...).






On our last walk, starting in the village of Séguret:






The walk took us through reputed wine country, just in time for the harvest:






Here we are in front of the Auberge des Seguins. A big thanks to Pierre, Julie, Susan, Lynn, and Tod for a wonderful week in Provence.