Yet Another Car Trip

La Couvertoirade and a windmill on the hill; seen from a distance.

      

   Yet Another Car Trip 

It seems we’re still on the theme of car trips. And why not? One of the reasons we chose to stay in this part of France was our interest in the surrounding area, and the many places to visit. So long as Mark and Mary had their rental car, we were more than happy to accompany them into the Montpellier countryside! 

The entrance tower to the village.

Today we’re visiting an old Templar town, La Couvertoirade (and as many times as we’ve attempted to pronounce this name, it still seems like there’s an extra syllable in there!). Least you have forgotten (or never knew), the Knights Templar were an organization of “warrior monks” started in 1119. They were heavily engaged in the early Crusades to “recover” the Holy Lands, both as renowned fighters, and, perhaps more importantly, by providing protection for the pilgrims. It’s a long story—but what interests us here is the ongoing interest in their presence all over France, even now, 700 years later. 

To be clear, the Templars were disbanded by King Philip IV of France in 1309 (the king was jealous of their considerable power and fame, and also owed them a ton of money!). Early on the morning of October 13^th the Templars in France were arrested, jailed, and most were tortured and executed. (It was a Friday, leading to the superstition that Friday the 13^th is unlucky.) 

The entrance arch...

...and what lies beyond.

By now the remnants of the order has been picked over pretty thoroughly, and there are no surprises. Still, France has many churches, abbeys, fortresses, and entire towns that were built and occupied by the Templars. And La Courvertoirade is one such town. 

The chapel on the hill.

View from the chapel on the hill. 

The village website promised a town full of tourists, but we limited the number of other visitors by coming mid-week, in the winter, and during a pandemic. And yet, there were three Porsches parked in front of the main tower entrance when we arrived; just three guys out for a drive in the countryside. They were, however, more interested in their drive than the town, and soon left. But I did have an interesting conversation with one of them. He said he was an architect, and mentioned that when he ran into a tough design problem, he always checked what the builders in the Middle Ages did, because they certainly managed some lasting solutions. (And I’ll just mention here that any legendary myths of the incredible powers and knowledge of ancient builders are due mainly to survivorship bias: today we see only their successes because their failures—and there were no doubt many—failed!) 

Mark views the village from the chapel on the hill.

Moments before I took this picture a guy crossed the courtyard carrying a pizza  and
disappeared into that door at the top of the steps. The town is, indeed, still occupied!

It was an meaningful introduction to what was a truly wonderful little town. There are only about a dozen streets, but each is filled with plenty to see. By now we were used to the cute artists’ galleries, the unique restaurants, the satisfying cafes… all closed. So we were free to stroll the empty, cobbled streets, enjoy the ancient tile roofs, and marvel at the 700-year old walls. I for one really appreciate the physical texture of the stone and the tile. And for that, La Courvertoirade does not disappoint!

We liked this guy, peering down from over the entry way!

Stairs of stone.

          Another Day, Another Town: Avignon

Abbey St. Andrew seen from Avignon, across the river.

Avignon: not just home to the famous bridge (Sur le pont d'Avignon / On y danse, on y danse…), but once home to the alternate pope (the Alt-Pope?). It’s a yet another long story, part of the history of the tumultuous fourteenth century which included several rounds of the Black Death that wiped out about a third of the population of Europe. And we think we’ve got it bad!

We were all interested in visiting Avignon. I remember being there some 30 years ago or more with my mother; Paula and I passed through more recently but still a good while ago. Mark and Mary had spent a month there; it was on their short list of places to live (eventually, though, they settled on Paris). So we all had our reasons for a (re-)visit!

 

The covered market (Les Halles), with it's "living wall."

Street scene in Avignon. See that guy on the third floor, leaning on his elbow? He's not really there,
just painted in. Another fine trompe l'oeil, not uncommon in this area!

 

Of course, as we expected pretty much everything was closed. On a main street we did find a large boulangerie doing a brisk business selling sandwiches and coffee to go. We took this opportunity to get lunch for later, and then stood on the street corner sipping the surprisingly good coffee. (Still miss the cafés, dammit!)

Slipping between the palace buildings on their rock outcroppings.

A secret entrance? Or just for the servents?

Oh good, we can get out of here!

 I could see spending some extended time in Avignon. It’s a manageable size, walkable, yet with lots going on. It has a modern, lively feel with a cherished and preserved past. And the theaters! There seem to be dozens of tiny theaters throughout the city. All closed now though, of course.

 

Façade of the Palais de Papes

The thinly-populated square facing the palace.

In addition to the famous bridge (or what’s left of it; it no longer stretches all the way across the river) Avignon’s claim to fame is the former Papal Palace, It’s quite a magnificent building rising from its rock outcropping, erected during the middle and late 1300s. There’s a huge square in front of the vast façade; it’s easy to imagine it filled with café tables and the noise of people enjoying themselves, eating and drinking. And these days imagine it we must; the only people we saw were scattered around the edges and sitting on the steps, eating sandwiches. Which reminded me… yes, lunch! Mark and Mary had a spot in mind, and we followed them up to an overlook with a fine view out over the river and the fabled (half-) bridge.

 

The famous bridge; or what's left of it.

Ah, lunch at last!

With the bridge and the palace both closed (of course) we meandered through town on our way back. There was nothing extraordinary, but it was pleasant.  We strolled along one street bordered by a small canal; apparently in times past this was where the dyers lived and worked. The canal carried off the waste from the dying process, and, later, drove water wheels to power the machinery. I’m sure it’s a much cleaner and more pleasant today that when the dyers were at work!

The Hotel de Ville: city hall for Avignon.

 

A canal through the dyer's discrict.

What's not to like about this neighborhood!

A waterwheel, no doubt a 19th century addition. Plaque on the wall announces this to be 
Rue des Teinturiers, Street of the Dyers.

We found this odd sculpture on Rue des Teinturiers. No explanation given as to by whom, or why, or when it was made!

Of interest to me (if unnoticed by everyone else) was this unassuming building with its plaque announcing: “In November of 1782 Joseph-Michel Montgolfier discovered in this house the principle of hot-air flight.” Yes, the one-time home of the two Montgolfier brothers, Joseph-Michel and Jacques-Étienne, who pioneered lighter-than-air flight using hot air balloons. To this day the French word for hot air balloon is la montgolfière.

Home of the Montgolfier family, 1782.

 

We never know what we will find on these excursions!

An early fight by the Montgolfier brothers.
 Image: © Photos.com/Jupiterimages, via Encyclopedia Britannica

Us, in Avignon.

Wishing you all the best, wherever you may be!

Next up: No more car! Where will we go? 

Take me for a Ride in Your Car Car--Part 2

The valley behind Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert, known as le Cirque de l'Infernet

This is the second part of our two-part series on our recent car trips. The first part (available here) covered our visits to the towns of Sauve, Saint-Jean-du-Gard, and Beaucaire, plus the amazing Roman aqueduct Pont du Gard, and our surprise discovery of Chapelle Saint Laurent. Here, we’ll start with our (latest) visit to Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert.

         Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert

We’ve been to this town several times before, but there is always more to see—either physical places we missed before, or, of course, the same physical place, but showing up differently.

 

Cascade du moulin, just before the turn-off to Saint-Guilhem; looking up the Gorge de l'Hérault from the Devil's Bridge

On our most recent visit, in March, we were also accompanied by Mark and Mary. Before that it was early winter, December of 2019. (we were all so blissfully unaware of the Corona virus then!). We went with Nicolas, the owner of the apartment where we were staying. On that December trip we didn't visit the village so much as the surrounding hills, and learned that Saint-Guilhem is a major trail head, with  trails of varying difficulty heading out, and up, from the town.

Saint-Guilhem town square in winter, with its noteworthy tree.

 

For some background info on Saint-Guilhem, and a lot more pictures, you can look here for our trip with Nicolas, and here for our trip in the spring.

 

The Cloisters of the Abbey at Saint-Guilhem, looking out and looking in (sort of!)

As we had expected, the village was quite dead. We visited the church and the cloisters again, and followed the ancient streets downhill to the very bottom of the village. Where we found, oh joy! Coffee! Cafés are just not open in France, but many places do offer take-out. And right at the very bottom, on the edge of the village, we were able to get coffee in paper cups, and drink it while standing around in the deserted yard. We could only imagine what this place might be like, surrounded by tables filled with animated customers talking and laughing.

 

Art installation? Actually, a motorcycle repair shop. Closed, like everything...

Definitely an art installation! Also closed...

Yeah, well, maybe not so full in January—it was cold and overcast. But still! Feeling warmed and a bit less desperate —and after thanking our hostess profusely—we wound our way back up the hill to the car and dug out our picnic lunch. The same spot where we’d had a picnic lunch 10 months earlier. Lunch was good, and we certainly had no problem finding a table, as we were the only people there.

At the bottom of the village the creek continues, perhaps to the Cascade du moulin.

Hiking time! Mark and Mary and I opted for the flat trail that wound through the valley floor, rather than the much steeper one that climbed to the overlooks above. Paula and Kate chose to explore closer to the village.

Easy walking...

...until we got to the end of the trail!

The valley is filled with brush, the well-defined trail flat and wet, thanks to the recent rains. Things got steeper and rocky as we approached the end of what seems to be a box canyon. The trail petered out; there may, or may not, have been a path out the end of the valley, but it sure didn’t look like it!

 

Kate and Paula, waving from the bottom of the wall.

The three of us returned, and climbed up to the large stone arch, gateway to the upper trail. It looks like it was an opening in a wall that ran down from the heights to the valley floor; high on a peak above the town are the remains of some lookout, the Château du Géant. In times past, as with most places, the village needed to defend itself from… bandits and foreign armies, I suppose. But, the chateau--which must offer fabulous views out over the valley--is now closed to visitors (probably because the locals got tired of rescuing inexperienced would-be mountaineers attempting to reach it!) 

The formidable ruins of the Château du Géant

On our way back to the car we passed the best find of the day: Saint-Guilhem's Brasserie artisanale Làsarde, serving artisanal homebrew! We quickly made our way inside, where the pleasant woman behind the bar asked us to wait a moment; she had an important task with the current batch. We were able to watch her stir the brew via a large-screen monitor mounted over the door. She was back in a moment to serve Paula her hot mulled wine, and paper cups of the excellent blonde to the rest of us.

The Brasserie Làsarde (Thanks to John Smith via Google Maps for the photo!)

 What a find! A real live person serving… well, anything! And the beer was excellent, as was the warm wine on a chilly January day. We all bought some bottles of brew to take with us, and made our way back to the car, and back home.

 

         Mouréze

The plan was to spread the adventures out, so we took the next day off. Two days later we were up bright and early (well, 9:30, which seems early enough) we were off for the village of Mouréze. There isn’t much to the town, population nearly 200. Mark and Mary had been there once before, but our goal this trip was to hike the surrounding area, known as the Cirque de Mourèze, and noted on Google Maps as an "Area of jagged limestone rock formations." Yeah, and DaVinci was a painter…

The village of Mouréze, from the road.

Seen in the street--I don't think anyone will be riding these bikes!

It seems like this was another artists’ village, judging from the decoration on the buildings, and the sculptures left lying around (still no people!). There really wasn’t much to the place—very cute and nicely done, but small!—so we were quickly done and ready for lunch (well, I was, anyway). Again, it was sandwiches in a deserted picnic area, and we were soon ready for the slopes.

Or the area jagged limestone rock formations. Whatever.

These rock formations turned out to be very popular! It was, after all, a Sunday, which explains the number of families out showing the kids how to scramble up and down the rocks. We didn’t actually get very far along the extensive loop trail, but there sure was a lot of up and down. And judging from the pain in my legs even three days later, we had quite a work out!

This little guy stopped by for a visit while we were resting. He's called a gorge rouge (red throat).

Mark making a call--or changing into Superman, we weren't sure which.
(And yes, phone booths are as rare in France as everywhere else!)

All in all it was a great outing: pine trees in the clean air, with those fabulous formations. And the views! 

Our legs gave out before the day did, and it was still a bit early to head home, so we meandered. We headed towards Lake Salagou, a man-made recreation area known for its red gravely soil. Paula and I had spent a full day exploring it a few months ago, and were happy to revisit it. But first, we had to explore Salasc, a village we passed en route.

Paula and Kate pass old, vine-covered stone walls.

What IS this place? Just someone's home...

Visitors have "decorated" the red hills of Lake Salagou with the abundant white stones found in the area.

For a different view on our travels, and some fabulous photos, check Mary’s blog here:

Hiking in the Hérault* – The Let's Get Lost Game

We’ve had a bit of cold weather here, in the South of France. The temps were below freezing on  few mornings! Not so bad according to some, but we’re from California. But signs of Spring are in the air, and buds are forming on the trees. Travel is still pretty much shut down

Take Me for a Ride in Your Car Car--Part 1

View from Sauve on a chilly morning, with woodsmoke in the air.

 We’ve finally gotten out of the house! The strict French confinement has been replaced by a somewhat more lenient couvre-feu (curfew), requiring every one to be inside by 6 PM, and while most businesses are open, restaurants and cafes, museums and attractions, concerts and sporting events are still closed. As we have discussed amongst ourselves over and over, while we can go places, what can we do once we’re there? 

We decided to find out! Our friends Mark and Mary had returned from Paris (their official residence in France; technically, they’ve just been visiting Montpellier since the lockdown was imposed last spring), Mark had his newly-minted French driver’s license, and Mary had—finally—gotten her Illinois licensed exchanged for a French one. So they rented a car for 10 days (Rental cars are pretty cheap right now, you need only brush aside the cobwebs at the rental desk and they are very happy to have some business!) 

M&M had spent a week keeping to themselves (always a good idea after travel of any kind in these pandemic days), got Covid tests, and felt confident that they were ready for some travel. The three of us—Paula and I, plus our friend Kate—also got tested. The testing, done as walk-ins at a local pharmacy, took less than a half-hour, not including the 30 minutes we spent walking around waiting for the results. Which, we were all glad to note, were negative. 

While at the pharmacy we picked up some new masks, tighter and more restrictive, and more effective, for wear in the car. 

Nine-thirty the next morning we gathered at the parking area near our building and headed out on our first adventure in a long time! 

 

            Sauve

Entering Sauve: view from the bridge

Paula and I had visited this village, about an hour north of Montpellier, a few years ago and found it utterly charming. The town is still charming, even in the winter, but the leafless landscape is a bit dreary. And, apart from the funeral that was just ending, we found it empty. Plus, we were cold. Charmed, but cold, and with but a single thought: let’s find a warm café, have a coffee and a fresh croissant to nibble on, discuss what we’ve seen and head out again warmed and refreshed. Except… oops, no cafés! And, perhaps more importantly, no rest rooms! We asked the boulanger who was just closing his stand at the market, and he confirmed: all the toilettes were closed due to Covid. But we persevered, wandering the streets, finding many intriguing shop windows (and doors!).

 

A little alcove off a side street

Mary and Paula walk through the potentially very lively and cute town square; very quiet this chill pandemic morning!

I've always suspected that one of the reasons we really enjoyed visiting French towns was having lunch: finding that special restaurant, distinct from the restaurants near home—and everywhere else, for that matter—and sampling what the local chef had to offer. Confirmed! Now, with no coffee, no lunch… these visits are just not the same! Still, there are many artists and studios in the village, and we found the studio and ateliers (or, at least their locked doors and windows) endlessly interesting.

A bit of trivia: Sauve is the current home of Robert Crumb, famed for his contribution to the alternate “comix” of the 60s and 70s, and his character, Mr. Natural. We didn’t see him, though (not Mr. Crumb, nor Mr. Natural, nor, for that matter, much of anybody else!) 

Surprising what one finds in these small towns! And yes, hanging from the balcony that is a Donald Trump doll with pins stuck in it...

Does an artist live here? 
(This may--or may not--be the front door of Mr. Crumb and his wife, Aline.)

Let's take a closer look at that door! In the center, images of The Sacred Heart of Elvis, flanked by boxed action figures of Kamala Harris and Joseph Biden. Hand of Fatima on the  lower right, Hello Kitty on the lower left...

Street art, on the road out of town.

We will definitely revisit this town in the spring, when it’s warmer, greener, and there's a bit more happening!

 

 

The morning warmed a bit and the sun came out, leaving us with this view of the old bridge connecting Sauve to the highway.

                Saint-Jean-du-Gard

Our next stop was in the slightly larger town of Saint-Jean-du-Gard, famous for being the spot where Robert Lewis Stevenson ended his trip through the mountains of the Cevennes. (You can read his full story in Travels With a Donkey in the Cevennes, his 1879 book about… well, traveling with a donkey in the Cevennes.) I was particularly pleased to be here because I read this work, and thought it would be a fine thing to visit the villages he mentioned (although I’d do it by car; certainly not by donkey!).

 

Mary, in the deserted town center.

A mosaic of R.L. Stevenson on the trail with his donkey, Modestine.

Our visit started simply enough with lunch in the parking lot: we sat in the sun and ate the sandwiches we’d brought. Thus fortified—and warmed—we went forth to find another quite charming and mostly empty town. It’s clear the town traffics on the fame brought by Stevenson, and Modestine, his donkey. It’s also clear it’s a center for hikes in the surrounding hills, part of the extensive Cevennes range, with signs pointing the way and providing destinations, distances, and trail numbers. (Wilderness hiking is very well organized in Europe!)

 

The old bridge spanning the river that splits the town. Who knows, perhaps a century and a half ago Modestine's hooves trod it's roadway...

A restaurant, very closed. Judging by the age of these shutters, Stevenson himself may have eaten here! 

Mary and Kate admire a rather more modern façade.

We arrived home well before dark, so we could rest up for our next day’s adventures. (And then, there's that 6PM curfew thing...)

 

A house along the river, just out of town. I imagine the people lived upstairs due to flooding; quite a magnificent stairway they had!

 

Pont du Gard, an ancient Roman aqueduct spanning the river.

The Pont du Gard

“Gard” is the name of the Département (an administrative district similar to a county); pont means bridge. The simple name, Bridge of the Gard, obscures a truly remarkable structure: a Roman aqueduct built over 2000 years ago. This is another site Paula and I had visited before: we’d been here almost two years ago with Paula’s brother Mark and his wife Brenda. But this time there was an added twist: the place was empty! 

Cold, but sunny; and, we've got the place to ourselves!

It was a repeat of the previous morning; up early, the five of us meeting at the car, masks tightly secured as we worked through the seating arrangements. (French cars are quite good, but a bit tight for five people!) An hour later we reached our destination to find… it was closed! Oh no! We’d checked, several times! But that was definitely a lock on the gate… Ah, but there’s another parking lot, across the river. So a short time later we were easing through some definitely open gates into an empty parking lot.

What it was all about: the water channel, to supply the city of Nimes, 20km distant. 

 

Peering under a lower arch.

Of course, all the shops, cafés, and the video program explaining the construction of this magnificent structure were closed up… as was the ticket office. So we walked in and had the whole place to ourselves. Oh, there were the occasional hikers and bikers, but we had no problem sharing! Once more, all the rest rooms were closed, but with lots of trees and no people, that was less of a problem…

 

Mark and Mary contemplate what was.

Looking downstream from the top of the Pont

                Beaucaire

This medieval city, surrounded by a prosperous new town, is located on the Rhône River about an hour’s walk upstream from Arles. We arrived and immediately got lost, driving through endless tiny one-way streets dead-ending into endless tiny one-way streets heading the wrong way. Eventually, though, we came out at the river, and parked along the canal right in front of an open (finally!) boulangerie selling great sandwiches. So we sat in the sun eating our lunch while admiring the boats along the canal.

I think my travel companions were less interested in the canal, but I was thrilled to learn that this was the Canal du Rhône á Sète, which runs just south of Montpellier; and Beaucaire is the point where it joins the Rhône River. From here a boat can go south to Arles, or north to the extensive canal systems in central and northern France. Or, follow the canal back to the town of Sète, not far from Montpellier. The Port of Sète gives access to the Mediterranean; or head west through the Étang de Thau (a shallow lake) to continue on the Canal du Midi. This 16th century engineering marvel runs 240 km (150 mi) to the city of Toulouse. (The Canal Latéral de la Garonne carries on from there to Bordeaux, providing access to the Atlantic Ocean.) We’ve covered parts of this route by boat, and driven along and across much of it. I found it tremendously gratifying to be at the far end of this extensive canal system crossing all of southern France! 

Observation tower? Lighthouse?

Ruins of the chateau-fort of Beaucaire

Wintertime view along the Rhone, from the ramparts of Beaucaire's castle.

Old and the new: wind turbines behind the ancient roofs of Beaucaire.

'

Chapelle Saint Laurent

We had a special treat on the way home, the kind of surprise that you really need a car to appreciate. We drove past a large empty field with a Romanesque church, perfectly preserved, right off the road. Mark did a quick u-turn (well, not so quick, it was safe!) and we spent some time investigating this find.

 

 

A special treat on the ride home: the 12th century Chapelle St Laurent (it's only open once a year, and today was not the day!)

 

Rental cars are cheap right now, so Mark and Mary got one for 10 days. This has been the story of the first two of our five road trips, during this window when we can go out, but there's nothing to do when we get there. In our next blog we'll talk about the rest of our trips! And, Feb 8 is the day for my driving test, when I'll get (hopefully!) my French license. Stay tuned!