Travels without a Donkey- The Cevenne and Champagne



At dinner on our last night in Croatia, (a delicious truffle extravaganza in the hill top village of Motovan) we noticed on our water bottle a quote from Robert Louis Stevenson which proclaimed........

............which seemed a spooky coincidence as we were heading towards France to walk in the footsteps of Robert Louis Stevenson (or RLS as he is know on the trail) through the Cevenne, where he penned Travels With a Donkey. We sped through Slovenia and Italy in one long day of riding (lots of toll roads-though thankfully I had mastered the art of toll paying- see the last post!) and hit the French border at about 5pm, which was at the top of a spectacular pass in the Alps. There was ice still banked alongside the roadside, and , as we hit the border, it actually started to snow! And it was May!!! A bit chilly, we pushed on a little lower before stopping for the night.


Camping in the Alps

We woke to a stunning backdrop of snowy mountains bathed in sunshine, and had an absolutely spectacular drive over snow clad mountains, past hill top chateau, through alpine greenery, down through red hued gorges and onto the undulating slopes and vines of the Rhone valley. A journey made for being on a bike and we were seriously loving the KTM.



Riding through the gorgeous gorges in France

But, as if we had jinxed it with our praise, there was a small hiccup as we pulled in to check out a map at a tourist office in the Loire Valley.  We went to pull away from the car park only to have the bike fall straight over. I had been worried about a situation in which we dropped the bike, but thankfully it was fine (and almost comical) and we had it up-right straight away, with only a scratch to the panniers and a perhaps some bruised egos (though it was pretty quiet, so I don't think anyone witnessed our unceremonious toppling).

Further investigation revealed that the bike stalled, not because of driver error (or short legs), but because we were developing a problem with the clutch. Apparently a crappy clutch is a known KTM 990 problem, with many people on overland trips opting to replace the original 'clutch slave' (see how I am getting into the biker jargon here!) with a non KTM part. So while the bike may have momentarily lost its shinny orange halo, I do have to say it did seem to develop problems in what was the most convenient of locations. We were not too far from Le Puy en Valy, the place where we were planning to abandon the bike for a couple of weeks to walk the RLS Trail.......and there happened to be a KTM mechanic in the town. Clever KTM! The price of parts and repairs stung a little, but on the plus side we knew the bike was safely tucked away getting fixed, we didn't need to waste any time  and it had resolved the problem of where exactly we were going to store it for the time we were on the trail. Let's just call it very expensive secure parking.

The RLS path doesn't start properly in Le Puy, but it is less than a days walk to the official beginning, so this forms a kind of prologue to the journey. Le Puy itself was a buzzing place, filled with people with rucksacks- the Camino de Santiago goes through here as well.

It was a glorious morning as we set out in classically French country side and the first town we came to even had a farmer's market in the town square where we got some delicious sticky buns to munch on while we had our first coffee. The day continued along in similar style, though the official start to the walk in the town of Monastier was a bit of a disappointment- it was a ghost town sort of a place, and, as it was a Sunday, absolutely nothing was open. This is in sharp contrast to the lively market scenes depicted by Stevenson when he began his journey 1878. It was in Monastier village square where Stevenson acquired Modestine, the donkey which accompanied him on his travels, which he describes as "diminutive she ass, not much bigger than a dog, the colour of a mouse, with a kindly eye and a determined under-jaw". One of the treats of doing this trip was to read 'Travels with a Donkey' as we followed the trail- and some of the conditions and descriptions still rang true 136 years later- though we think that RLS was a bit of a wimp complaining of "interminable hills". Clearly, he had never been in the Himalayas!

 

 

 

Funnily enough the weather we experienced (after the first few days of glorious sunshine) was similar to Stevenson's experience; we too found that "all the way up the long hill from Langogne it rained and hailed alternatively". I had to laugh- one day where the weather was particularly grey and grim we spoke about it reminding us of Scotland, only to read that evening that Stevenson had described this section as a "journey through one of the most beggarly countries in the world. It was like the worst of the Scotch Highlands, only worse".

The wild weather made for some interesting adventures- one afternoon we set up camp and wandered to the Inn for dinner, where, by our cheese course (after our pretty delicious starter of local charcuterie and comforting beef bourguignon main), the weather had turned and was now very wild and windy. The owner seriously doubted that our tent would still be standing and he drove us the mile or so back as he was so worried (our trusty tent was fine!). We also arrived back at the tent one night (incidentally after our favourite meal of wild boar stew- food is obviously a highlight of walking in France!) and it was actually snowing, big fat flakes resting on the tent. It cleared into perfect and more settled weather after that, and it was amazing as we climbed out of the village that day to see the dusting of snow covering the peaks we had crossed the day before.

 

Rainy in Pradelles

 



Breakfast French style!!

 

 

 

 Strangely enough, just as for Stevenson, the weather improved for us as we reached the Cevenne proper and,  like him, we were (almost completely) "done with rains and winds and a bleak country". The landscape became more wild and varied and we were on 'springy and well scented' terrain, relatively empty with 'no company but for a lark or two' and into the 'steep rocky red mountains, their edges eaten by the rains and winds into a fantastic and precarious lace work'. On the route we saw red squirrels, deer, quaint villages and extraordinary displays of wild flowers. The trail itself ends officially at Saint Jean du Gard, but we continued further along to Ales across a fabulous ridge walk which itself was a highlight. In the end we had crossed 271 kms of French countryside in 10 days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We then made our way back to Le Puy, where we were happily reunited with the bike.We headed towards the beautiful Puy de Dome, a remarkable landscape of 'sleeping volcanos' where unfortunately the views were obscured by clouds and fog when we reached the top, though the surrounding countryside made for some spectacular ridding. We then moved to Nevers, a very pleasant riverside town and home to the macabre spectacle of the body of Saint Bernadette (of the grotto in Lourdes fame), which I was intrigued enough by my catholic school background to seek out. It was somewhat of a shock to see her lying in a glass coffin - like Snow White- in the chapel, some 137 years since her original burial, but seemingly un-decomposed. James' reaction of "You have got to be ####### kidding me" pretty much sums it up!  You can imagine this said inappropriately loudly in this shrine and pilgrimage destination.

 

 

It was then onto Epernay, home of Champagne, where it seemed rude not to sample a least a few glasses (who am I kidding, bottles) of the local beverage. The tour of the Moet and Chandon cellars was interesting, and the hundreds of kilometres of fizz lining the walls of the underground cellars was mind blowing. Enough to make you work up a thirst. We also took a tour of a family run vineyard Domi- Moreau, which was even more fascinating, and though it did de-glamorize life as a champagne maker (its tough!), the product was good enough that we sent a case back to the UK.

And then we were  back across the channel to the UK for a weekend of music at the Isle of Wight festival and then off back to Cairo for a wedding. Tough life.......