Changing arrangements, dog poo and walks

I spent Friday evening in a flurry of changing arrangements. My youngest who, chez his dad, didn't know when he was coming home, and then later he did (more-or-less), friends from afar who were due to spend the evening with us, but sent a message to say they couldn't make it which I didn't get, and other friends who rang to suggest meeting up the next lunch time. In between having to think hurriedly about eating seeing as we weren't going into town in the end. Much time was spent on mobile phones.

In the end, it all sorted itself out, as it always does. We had lunch the next day with my DB's friend and his family, and dinner in Arles with my Aussie buddy and her husband from way back (1999) in Dallas. Before dinner, we worked up an appetite by walking along the banks of the Rhone, delicately picking our way between the smelly dog turds. They marred an otherwise very pleasant stroll. We also witnessed the arrival of one of those river cruise ships - not Viking - but a Swiss company. It was very very long, and did a 360° turn to berth competently at Arles. The passengers inside were all happily finishing off their dinner and I suppose were getting ready for an evening's exploration of the town.

We had a delicious, very jolly dinner at l'Autruche, choosing to sit inside as there was an Alert Orange in force and a forecast of hail stones... I think it might have rained a bit, but hail there was not. Today I saw that the storms had devastated certain villages in Ariege and further east: mud slides, gravel slides, raging torrents, the lot!

On Sunday we went to Corconne for a walk. It's about a twenty minute drive from chez moi, and we often go past it as it's on the way to Quissac, Anduze, Alès, and Sauve. I found a walk in a book that I bought before I was married - Balades: 52 itinéraires autour de Montpellier, published in 1993! We decided to do part of the walk through the Forêt de Coutach which would take us up through the cliffs above the village, past the Pont du Hasard, through a 'forêt sauvage' to a view point, and then back to a chapel and castle ruins which overlook the village. The walk in the book is 11km and takes three and a half hours, but we didn't want to go that far so decided to walk to the belvedere (view point) and back via the chapel, probably half the distance. To show how old the book is, it says to take the PR35, but it has since been renamed the PR47 which can lead to confusion and a heated discussion about being on the right path...

Cliffs form a backdrop to an amphitheatre around Corconne

Despite the book declaring there were 'difficultés: néant' (no difficulties), we found scrambling up parts of the path to the Pont du Hasard quite challenging and almost impossible if you'd inadvertently gone with a very small child.

Path goes up to the right - spot the yellow stripes

Difficulté : néant? Try going up this if you're not steady on your legs!

At the top. The tor takes up almost all the path!

The sun was in the wrong place to take a picture of the Pont du Hasard so here is one taken by someone else:

Pont du Hasard natural rock arch

Weave your way between the rocks

It was mostly shady, but still very warm (29°C). Once on the plateau, it was plain sailing on an easy path through the forêt sauvage of scrubby trees and bushes as far as the view point which looked west towards the village of Pompignane.

View point (belvedere) looking west, Cevennes in background

Two 'teeth' that form the top of the cliffs

Cliffs 

View from chapel looking north

View from chapel looking south, note Corconne's charming rooftops

The chapel was built on the ruins of a castle that was first established on that spot before 1000AD. It is much younger, having been constructed in 1858 with, apparently, a line of villagers who passed up roof tiles one by one to the top.

Chapel, still in use on Sept 8.

Many crosses line the path to the chapel

It's amazing what a bit of water will do...

We certainly exerted ourselves going up, and down paying careful attention to where we placed our feet on the pebbly path. My DB did his 10000 steps, according to his Fitbit Zip podometer (his daily challenge), so we were able to find a picnic spot once back at the car and enjoy our lunch happy in the knowledge that he could have a snooze and slob about for the rest of the day. 

I went to pick up my youngest from the station. Hurrah!

Walking up the Pic St Loup

There is a walk about 20km north of Montpellier that every resident worth his/her salt has to do at some time - the Pic St Loup. You might recognise the name from your wine drinking - it's a wine appellation too which takes its name from this impressive limestone outcrop.

I have been on this walk several times, once even with my eldest as a baby in a sling! It's actually not quite as undemanding as it sounds as there are several rocky outcrops you have to scramble over, and scree paths you work your calf muscles on trying not to slide backwards (or rocketing forwards coming down).

You get to it by passing through the elegantly restored village of Cazevielle which now looks so clean and spruce you start to tot up the likely cost of restoration on your taxes... On the other side is a roomy car park which is often full of cars because of the popularity of this walk. I've seen grannies on it, teenagers in unsuitable shoes, folks out walking dogs from rat-sized mini things to handsome Labradors, kiddies and dads bearing babies on their backs.

The Pic St Loup is an icon for the region's residents, visible as it is from the coast to the Gard next door. It soars up to 658 m although the walk itself starts at around 350m. From half-way up on a clear day you can see as far as the sea

Looking south towards the Med

At this point, the path is nice and easy and my dearly beloved enjoyed testing out his new high-tech walking sticks.

Him: sticks and backpack. Me: camera

From being out in the open, the path also meandered through some shadier spots of stunted split trunk oaks necessarily hardy from being roasted in summer, drowned in autumnal storms, and blown about by high winds from the freezing north in winter. 

We reached the top after an hour or so, unused as we are to strenuous walks like this. Our exercise tends to come sporadically but intensely, exactly how one is not supposed to exercise, but as rule, the mind is weak and the body takes advantage...

Still, it was worth it for the stunning views even though it was quite crowded up there, standing room only almost.

A popular spot

Looking east towards St Mathieu de Treviers and Mont Hortus opposite

Looking west and north towards the Cevennes

There is no fence to protect you from elfansafety so you're on yer own with regards to falling over the rocky edge, with nothing to break your fall for a couple of hundred metres. If you fell backwards you'd have a lovely view of the gliders soaring high above and hear the regular droning of the planes that bring them up. Those would probably be your last impressions however as I'm not sure anyone has survived the fall...

There is no café up there, no stand selling drinks and popcorn, no tacky souvenir shack. You just get the glorious view, an iron cross, an observation post, a bunch of fellow walkers munching on, for example a beef tomato, energy snacks or perhaps even a picnic; the odd dog and the hermitage.

Restored hermitage

It was restored by volunteers and is a cool shady spot on a hot day, where you can admire the little shrine that has sprung up.

We left the Pic St Loup and ambled down getting stuck in a traffic jam at one point behind a family of 3 generations and a group of 3 chatty girls and their dog which kept running off to explore. When they stopped to rest/whistle to the dog, we carried on and were later ourselves overtaken by more students. It took us about an hour to get down so a good two hours in total plus mucking about time at the summit.

If you're visiting Montpellier and fancy a lovely walk, and it's not high summer, do go up the Pic St Loup, and remember that when you get back down all tired and sweaty you'll enjoy that glass of chilled rosé with even more intense appreciation.