On the Road Again, Part 2a--Les Casses & Gorges du Tarn

The Viaduct of Millau, with the city itself off to the right.

This is the second part of our most recent travels in France, The first part, about our search for poppy fields, is here. The third and final part will be done soon!

Les Causses are a series of high-elevation plateaus about an hour and a half north and west of Montpellier. At one time a vast elevated plain, over the millennia rivers have cut deep channels, isolating the causses one from the other. The Tarn, one of the more significant rivers in the south of France, carved a gorge that is today a very picturesque tourist attraction. We made it the focus of our two-day trip.

The valley of La Dourbie, cutting through the causse.

The GPS routed us up the Autoroute A75, exiting just before the toll section, where we found a convenient turnout. I’m glad we stopped, because it was far more extensive than it looked, and gave us a good introduction to Millau and the start of the Gorges du Tarn. We got a good look at the causse and the gorge carved by La Dourbie, a tributary of the Tarn. We also had an overview of the city of Millau, and, in the distance, a stunning view of the Millau Viaduct, a spectacular bridge that carries the road (the A75) across the valley of the Tarn. 

I first heard of the Viaduct on a French television program some years ago. It seems that the city of Millau sits right on the main route between Paris and the Mediterranean coast, and every summer Millau would be inundated by travelers on their way to the beach for their annual vacation. Traffic backed up, and by the 80s it would take hours to get across the valley. A number of proposals were made to move traffic away from the city.

The outskirts of Millau and the incredible green countryside.

 One concern of the townsfolk was that any bypass around Millau would result in a serious loss of business; the town would just dry up and blow away. The solution finally implemented was this bold and stunning bridge which broke several world records when it opened in 2004, and is still the highest roadway in Europe. It became a tourist attraction in its own right, and for those visiting the Viaduct, Millau is the obvious place to eat, drink, and spend the night.  

 And for us, too... but not yet! We had more exploring to do!

 

Le Relais de la Muse, a restaurant and auberge in the Gorge of the Tarn (closed, of course!)

Our route along the river led us around the city and through the surrounding hills along the narrow and winding river gorge. It was actually a very pleasant drive: the road was good, slow but not dangerous, and the hillsides, rocky cliffs, sights of the river emerging out of the lush springtime vegetation, and the occasional stone villages clinging to the river banks made for an engaging and ever-changing journey.

We saw this appealing church and churchyard from the road...

 

... and stopped to see it: Église Notre-Dame-des-Champs de Mostuéjouls.

The towns we passed through were pretty dead, with shuttered shops and cafés. But it was clear that this was a decidedly touristic area. In normal times… Actually, we were pleased that we had it almost all to ourselves, with few people and almost no cars!

 

The village of La Malène; looks like it was pretty lively, but dead when we came.

We made a stop on the river. It was hard to tear ourselves away, but we were on a road trip...

A ruined bridge once leading across the Tarn to Le Rozier--and a fabulous-looking resort on the river!

Still, lunch time came, as it always will, and all we found were shuttered shops and empty streets. But we persevered… maybe in the next town, maybe another 10 or 15 minutes… and then we arrived in Sainte-Enimie. Ah, people! Cars! Restaurants selling food to go on the main street!

 

We saw this village across the river--the sign says "Village en Peril." Which means just what it seems to: the village is in peril. The guy at the cheese shop explained that almost no one lives here anymore; with no road, the only way in and out is by canoe or zip line across the river!

At last--a town with people! Activity! Lunch!!

And what a charming place! Thirteenth-century buildings, and high up above the Tarn a former monastery, or maybe a tomb, where local legend has it that St. Enimie herself is buried.

 

Us, in St-Enimie

Paula and Kate exploring in St-Enimie

According to a 13^th Century poem by a famous troubadour, Enimie was the daughter of a king who did not wish to marry. Her prayers to God were answered when she contracted leprosy (which certainly made her less attractive as a partner!). The search for a cure lead her to a spring, a tributary to the Tarn. The blue, copper-infused waters are said to have cured her; she settled down and founded a convent, where she spent the rest of her days.

 

This story was related to us by a cheese shop owner. We were drawn to his shop by the compelling sounds of the Grateful Dead’s “Casey Jones” (“Driving that train, high on cocaine…”); the owner spoke excellent English and chatted with us for a bit. As we were finally leaving, he asked if we’d like to buy some cheese. “Maybe later,” we said. Ah, “later” means “never,” he responded with a smile. True, very true. We resolved to get some of his excellent local sheep cheese later, before we left town, but alas, we, ah, never did. 

After lunch—take-away salads we ate while contemplating the cliffs across the river—we visited la source, the spring where Enimie bathed. Yup, it was blue! The adjacent information station was playing a video of underwater spelunkers exploring the cavern below the spring. We studied the accompanying diagrams of how the rain seeped through the adjacent causse and ran underground 12 km to emerge here and thence aboveground to the nearby Tarn.

 

The copper-infused blue water that cured St. Enimie of Leprosie.

It was getting late, and while we’d already decided to spend the night in Millau, that was an hour away, and we did have to finalize arrangements with our Airbnb host. Kate handled that chore while we crouched in an alleyway with 600-year old stone walls towering over us. Our accommodations handled, we were ready to get back on the road.

 

But first, we had a lengthy chat with a Brit who’d heard us speaking English. He said he was a truck driver, a forestier, a wood worker, and a chocolatier. He and his wife had a shop selling beautiful wooden cutting boards and chocolate; they’ve been here in Sainte-Enimie three years and love it. We had a pleasant conversation, and enjoyed hearing about the town (and the frequent floods!), but we felt the need to move on. After all, a 7PM curfew was still in effect all over France, and we were at least an hour down a long windy road to our home for the night.

Up Next:  We spent another day in the area, including some time under that fabulous viaduct. We'll here about that in the next installment. And that will have to come soon, because in a few days the cafés open, and we will be on the road once more, exploring... well, you'll have to wait and see!

AND---Cafés are now open! Finally! We're seeing tables on the sidewalks once again, with patrons sipping coffee and enjoying full meals. That changes everything!