|
NOT FOR PUBLICATION!!! Goodbye Italy (very sadly for the last time), Hello France with a bit of a focus on the wines along the Loire/Vienne.  Above: The volcanic activity up on the plateau in the Auvergne was unique and yet varied ... how's your French? We had decided to major on the Loire, France's longest river, and attempt to follow it from its source to the sea with a slight detour along the Vienne to visit our favourite campsite at Chinon's rive gauche. But first we had to get to the Auvergne, source of many French rivers including our chosen one. Getting to The Source. To get there, having crested the Alps at Claviere/Montgenèvre, we picked up La Durance which tumbles down its valley to Briançon and beyond until we could we could switch to a tributary of the Rhône, la Drôme, which rises in the Hautes-Alpes somewhere towards the Alps Maritime that separate France from Italy. We paused in our descent of La Durance for nostalgia's sake to revisit the ancient Cité Vauban that we had explored with Kate and her friend Ashley a few years earlier. It was a relief to park Campy for a while and re-acquaint ourselves with its grandeur and alleys that we had enjoyed on our previous visit. It can be difficult to explain how stressful manoeuvring a 7.2 metre beast can be down those steep and twisting passes. Resuming our journey if was a relief to continue along a more sedate La Durance as our guide to Lac de Serre-Ponçon where we'd planned a couple of peaceful nights in the local campsite overlooking the lake. Above (l-r, top to bottom): Shan insisted on snapping this early-70s DS in a side street in Savines-le-Lac - I think her Mum had one, once upon a time; sunset across le Lac from our campsite on la rive droite du Lac; the info board at le Claps; a few of the impressive post 1442 rocks that fell into position at le Claps. Knowing very little about the area of France to the South West of Briançon we studied a map hoping to find an obvious place to cross the Rhône before climbing into the Auvergne. As luck would have it, La Durance, which we were already following, turned left after Briançon. This was our general direction of travel and would take us near enough to the source of the Drôme (a few dramatic Alpine passes notwithstanding. Our route, in turn, took us to Le Claps, an extraordinary place we hadn't known existed before we pitched up there in Campy. There was a smidgeon of frisson when we discovered that the giant stones that had fallen there had done so less than 600 years earlier. We trod carefully around the paths in the proximity of Le Claps and admired our discovery. A place we hadn't known existed until we stumbled upon it en route to Saillans, where we'd planned to spend a day or two at a campsite beside the Drôme. Saillans. As a town it was relaxing with a pretty centre and, nestled in the Drôme valley, it has magnificent views and opportunities for cycling, which got us on our bikes, which we'd transported in Campy so that we could get out and about. Our campsite was a mile out of town, nestling against the Drôme so we could walk along the river into town if that took our fancy. Once on town the back alleys were quaint and charming to I'd venture to say that as a a town it had all the mod cons, mountains, a river and a relaxing sense of charm ....  Above (l-r, top to bottom): ; ; ; oh no not another fascinating old city to distract us from our mani goal, la Loire After an interlude of pure relaxation and a fair amount of cycling in the hills surrounding Saiilans, we sped (insofar as Campy was capable and speed limits allowed) towards our next Milestone, viz Mont Gerbier de Jonc where the River Loire rises up in the southeastern quarter of the French Massif Central in the Cévennes range (in the department of Ardèche within the Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes) at 1,350 m (4,430 ft)[source].. It was tempting to stop at places like Crest and feast our eyes over the Tour de Crest and the handsome town beneath it. However we were conscious of the fact that France is choc-a-bloc such attractions dating back 600 to 1,000 years. Stopping at each one would keep us from reaching the source of France's longest river, let alone making the mouth at Saint-Nazaire on the Atlantic Ocean. So we "sped" on, ditching the humble Drôme where it poured itself into France's mightiest river ... the Loire may well be the longest but the Rhône pours more water into the sea than any other French waterway. One only has to look at a map of the Auvergne to see how many watercourses rise there. The River L'Ardèche itself rises about little over 20 miles from Mont Gerbier de Jonc and flows into the Rhône a bit down stream from the Drôme. Finding the source of France's longest river. We crossed the Rhone at Le Bourg and followed the L'Ouvèze through spectacular scenery, past it's catchment area before turning North-West into an area that gradually transformed into a landscape above 1,000 metres that resembled a moonscape[banner] with luscious grassy vegetation. Strange rocky outcrops marked out the sites of dormant volcanoes, culminating in Mont Gerbier de Jonc and the source of our mighty Loire, the first river we met knowingly that flowed in a Westerly direction. Actually more like North-West with wiggles and turns amounting to approximately 1,000 km (625 miles-ish). Above (l-r, top to bottom): France's longest river starts hereabouts. Getting to and from the source forced us through the gorgeousness of the mountains of L'Ardèche and over the other side of the unique volcanic plateau with more rugged scenery We chose a path via Yssingeaux because we liked the sexy name but can't remember now whether it had any particular attraction. Saint Victor Sur-Loire. We were headed for Saint Victor Sur-Loire and what could only be described as a lake although it was actually a one of quite a few dams on the mighty river. Obviously a boating paradise, we used it as another quiet moment on our travels. Admiring the beauty and walking about a bit. I'll leave its attractions to the upcoming pics.    Above (top to bottom, l-r): our first view of le Lac de Grangent; we strolled up to Château de Saint-Victor-sur-Loire (3) with its abundance of floral attractions; heading back down to the water; taking time out to admire some fishing and its reflections; Shan doing a bit of path posing; beach adjoining the Port de Saint-Victor; views from campy in the late afternoon and at sunset (2); Château de Grangent; the Grangent Dam wall. A serendipitous consequence of the damming of the Loire at Grangent was the creation of a "new" island, adding a romantic air to the medieval Château de Grangent in the mid-1950s. One has to wonder whether the quest for hydroelectric power vs. preservation of ancient sites was a controversial one but the whole thing is pretty damn magnifique when being viewed after the fact. The Lac de Grangent is one of those places where one could easily spend a week or two being absorbed by the peace and beauty together with other opportunities missed such as longer walks, sailing and perhaps fishing. But we had to move on ... we were on a mission to absorb one of the world's finest wine regions a little further up the road. Sancerre, Pouilly Fumè, Vouvray, Crémant de Loire, Chinon, Anjou, Saumur and Muscadet spring to mind, amongst many others. Digoin. Our next stop was to be in Digoin where I had an ambition to cycle up into some hills in a loop up and down the Loire and we were intrigued bu its riverine "crossroad" . The crossover was a bit of a curiosity where Le pont canal de Digoin crosses the Loire and lunch can be eaten in a canal boat while suspended over our favourite river.  Above (top to bottom, l-r): rive droit up in the hills above the Loire (in the background); getting back to Digoin via the cycle route alongside the Canal latéral à la Loire; after 48 km a well earned rest; people eat on top of it; canal goes over it; river runs under it. The Canal Latéral à la Loire itself must've been a feat of engineering. It was constructed in 1827-1838 and travels parallel to the river for 196 km, connecting Digoin and Briare. The canal was built to alleviate the erratic water levels of the Loire. Our campsite was separated from the river by what looked like a manmade embankment and I think we were relieved that we didn't live below water level permanently. En route to some serious business we tried to sneak through a fairly insignificant town named Herry, that prompted us to revert to our South African roots and the pronunciation of one of my nicknames. I had been called "Herry" as in "Herry Herrison". And then we spotted Herry's Bar and became mildly hysterical repeating "Harzit Herry" too many times. A photograph was essential! Such is the idiotic frivolity of spending too much time together in a campervan. The completely dodgy looking exterior didn't help either but we resisted the temptation to actually stop short of Sancerre for a dodgy beverage, apart from a brief pause for this photo. Sancerre at last. For me a high point of the French part of our European adventure would be lunch in Sancerre accompanied by a wee bit of wine tasting. I will apologise now to Shan whose only dislike in the world of white wine appears to be Sauvignon Blanc. But needs must in Sancerre ..Especially if you're probably not about to pass there again soon.. Above: its had to be done x2 ... the beige and the mustard. The joys of having a campervan cum delivery vehicle and doing a pre-Brexit sweep. Most of the good stuff got stored in my "double" bed at the back and it did become a bit of a challenge to find a comfy nook in which to sleep. I was also going to have to make up for the predominance of Sauv to my travelling partner somehow! We might just have sniffed out a bottle or two of Chardonnay as supplies before entering the main Loire regions. A bit more Loire before a sneaky shortcut along the Vienne. We managed to edge up our chosen river to Briare where the Canal Latéral peters out. We found a delightful campsite beside the river, freeing me up for some relaxed evenings trying for the ultimate sunset shot. It did work out despite a torrential downpour in the middle of one night in which some restorative work had to be undertaken to resurrect our awning. We also managed a bit of an epic (28 km there and back) ride on our bikes up to Glen, which has some splendid old buildings and a longer bridge than we were accustomed to on the Loire, the canal having stopped at Briare. All in all, Briare had turned out to one of those "hidden" gems to one stumbles across when performing a long distance loiter in a camper.  Above (L-R, top-bottom): this little fella bursting with the joy of a bad and freedom to run beside the Loire; back with his "parents" out for their stroll; a random boat moored under a willow; Briare abounds with canals and water; Shan in full flight on the path to Glen; c'est moi trying to restore Campy's awning after a typical Loire-side downpour; the approach to Glen; locks, boats and bridges (2) abound in Briare; the Digoin-Briare canal crosses the Loire river at its journey's end; the sunsets (3) were a treat. In fact our Briare campsite's location was perfect for quiet evening strolls and we capitalised on them with the result that I have far too many sunset pictures of this section of the Loire, conveniently facing downstream in late Spring. All too soon we were to move on and, shock-horror, desert the Loire for the Vienne. These two rivers rise 200km (the source of the Vienne being ENE of that of the Loire) from each other and travel in a generally Northerly direction, although the shorter Vienne flows about 46 km (30 miles-ish) to Limoges before turning to the North. Chinon and the Vienne We had already established on earlier trips to France that Chinon was one of our favourite places on the planet to chill out and savour the unique wines of the region. It also has a magnificent castle, with legendary links to Joan of Arc, and a fascinating troglodyte cave house community in the cliffs that tower over the the right bank of the Vienne. And much of this can be enjoyed from a deckchair on the grassy left bank while holding a glass of wine with a capacious store of refills in Campy parked close by. So what could we do if we'd seen it all before? First there was a 33-mile cycle journey downstream to the confluence of these two great rivers, taking in swathes of unspoiled countryside, picturesque villages and a grand Abbey at the zenith of a steep climb ...  Above: thankfully we'd brought our own bikes in Campy's garage ... We first tackled right bank so that we could get a feeling for the quiet rural villages in the area and probed the inland of the "peninsular" formed by the two rivers. It was true to form and strangely peaceful cycling through the Savigny-en-Véron commune, especially when we turned back to the Vienne at Port Guyot. From there we meandered along the riverbank until we rand out of road at the confluence and had no option to continue on the left bank and into Candes-Saint-Martin. We'd originally intended to climb up to a hilltop viewpoint to take in the spectacle of the two rivers joining force (in fact the Vienne disappears at this point, having served its purpose as a tributary of France's longest river). However, it turned out with a bit (actually a bit more than a bit) of a climb we could also visit the rather splendid village of Fontevraud and its Abbaye-Royale.  [Endnotes]:
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
|
RSS Feed