As Boronia mentioned, we have now come down out of les hautes alpes, and the walking is much easier.
We began in Briancon on Tuesday 14 September, and spent nights in each of hte following locations: Bouchier, L'Argentiere Les Besses, Mont Dauphin, Chateauroux Les Alpes, Embrun, Savines Le Lac, Montgardin, Gap, where we had a rest day, Venterol, La Motte du Caire, Saint Genieux, Sisteron, Peipan, Les Grandes Molieres, Lurs (Le grande bastide), and Forcalquiere.
Our cumulative walking distance is around 270 kms to date, though the ups and downs, sometimes exceeding 1000 metres in the days walking, has moderated out total.
The next towns on our route include Lincel, Cereste, Apt, Coustellet, Orgon, St Renee de Provence, Fontvieille and Arles.
I have just lost a section of text....will have to wait our next post to enlighten you all of its contents
mike
.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Into Provence
This post is being written in Forcalquier - a provincial centre, with an internet shop. We are now walking through the rolling hills of Provence - the fir trees have been replaced by rockroses, rosemary and thyme. While the countryside is much softer, the designer of our path is determined to keep sloth at bay, and has stayed faithful to the master plan of going to the top of any hill in sight and through the centre of any villages in view.
We were walking for some days with an English-speaking French couple, fifteen years older than us but veterans of the walks of St Jacques. They say that the path we have chosen is much more difficult than any other path to Santiago de Compostella. It doesn't seem to affect them very much - they always leave later than us in the morning but reach the target an hour before us. They have now gone on ahead, and we have said goodbye, and are not likely to see them again.
My navigator and I are still working out some of the rules of the road. Is the man obliged to wait while the woman looks for good figs, or picks blackberries - or can they just keep walking without looking back? This is a very difficult question. I am still perplexed. You could SMS 'yes' or 'no' and we could will the votes.
Handing over now to the navigator, whom I am realising is always right.
Boronia
We were walking for some days with an English-speaking French couple, fifteen years older than us but veterans of the walks of St Jacques. They say that the path we have chosen is much more difficult than any other path to Santiago de Compostella. It doesn't seem to affect them very much - they always leave later than us in the morning but reach the target an hour before us. They have now gone on ahead, and we have said goodbye, and are not likely to see them again.
My navigator and I are still working out some of the rules of the road. Is the man obliged to wait while the woman looks for good figs, or picks blackberries - or can they just keep walking without looking back? This is a very difficult question. I am still perplexed. You could SMS 'yes' or 'no' and we could will the votes.
Handing over now to the navigator, whom I am realising is always right.
Boronia
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Sisteron
We have arrived at Sisteron. Internet access islimited, so this post will merely report that we are well, slightly footsore, enjoying the countryside, the companyof fellow trekkers, the french food we are eating in the various gites - essentially home cooked country fare, and that we are generally very happy with how we are travelling.
best wishes to all
mike
best wishes to all
mike
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Arrival in the regional centre of Gap
We have been making steady progress, up mountain and down dale. At Embrun, we stayed in a small family run hotel where the meal served is essentially what the family eats, that is no choice of menu. It was very good, the family which ran the hotel were Belgian and plied us with a range of belgian beers, all especially enjoyable at the end of a day's walking.
On Sunday, we walked the 18 kms from Embrun to Savines le Lac, a relatively new town on the shore of a large lake whose name escapes me. Savines le Lac is a tourist town built around water sports. Our accommodation at the Hotel des Sources was clean and pleasant.A meal in the local vietnamese restaurant was perfectly adequate. After dark, the lights of the village of St Apollinaire, tomorrow's first stop, shone down from what seemed - and ultimately transpired - to be a great height.
Monday morning, we set off across the bridge, and up to St Apollinaire, where we boiled the billy - Boronia doesnt travel very far nor very happily without regular infusions of tea. From St Apollinaire, there is a fantastic vista back to Embrun, across to the hills hiding the monastery of Boscodon which we had diverted around the day before, and down the valley for at least two days walk. By the end of the day, we had made Chorges where we had planned to stay, but despite extensive use of hte mobile phone, we couèld find no accommodation. We decided to walk an extra three kms to Montgardin where there is an Auberge.
As we left Chorges, we went looking for water....taps are in surprisingly short supply when you need them, though most villages have permanently running fountains. In any case, we decided to walk into the yard of a nearby factory or storage depot to ask for water. We were met with quizzical looks, which I put down to my hat - which Boronia despises - and poor french, and given two large bottles of water from a nearby pallet. It was only as we left that we noticed the sign which explained that we had walked into a huge water bottling factory asking for water.
The Auberge du Moulin at Montgardin was superb. Restful garden setting, very french and friendly hospitality, wonderful food, much of it grown on the farm and transformed into confitures, fruit salads and more.... in short, heaven. We could have stayed a week.
Tuesday morning saw us setting off for Gap via Laus, a site of some importance to local catholics for reasons we dont entirely understand.... I think it was where St Benoit lived and worked. Of course, it is situated half way up a huge mountain, and our pathway took us to the very top before wending our way down to Gap after around six hours trekking plus a couple of rest stops for tea and lunch. We both managed the climb remarkably well, but felt quite sore by the end of the day.
We are spending a rest day in Gap, so have booked into a proper hotel including access to the internet which is allowing this blog update. Boronia jumped straight into the bath on arrival, but I decided against doing so on the grounds that i would have to fold myself in thirds to fit in, and given how stiff I am feeling, it might have proved impossible to unfold myself once I inserted myself in the bath cavity. I cant help thinking that the shape, size and comforts of baths in Paris or New York would be much more enjoyable than what is available here, let alone at home in Canberra, but then again, the privations of a pilgim's trek must amount to something if we are to gain the deferred benefits promised by the promoters of such adventures!
I dont think we have explained that we are following a set route, one of France's Grande Randonnees; ours is the GR653D, from Col de Mont Genevre / Briancon to Arles. Our next major stop is Sisteron, where we will take a day off if I can persuade Boronia to cease her incessant pedestrianism. It will take us around 24 days walking to Arles, and our progress beyond will require further negotiation.
So far, we have covered a total of over 130 kms in seven days, at an average of 18 kms a day. I count this as very good progress given the amount of climbing involved. At my lowest ebb yesterday, coming down into Gap over rocky paths, my feet feeling sore and sensitive, I asked myself why this might be so, and calculated the number of steps we had taken since Briancon. Some 180,000 steps, 90,000 for each foot!
We wish all readers of this idiosyncratic trek account the very best
mike
On Sunday, we walked the 18 kms from Embrun to Savines le Lac, a relatively new town on the shore of a large lake whose name escapes me. Savines le Lac is a tourist town built around water sports. Our accommodation at the Hotel des Sources was clean and pleasant.A meal in the local vietnamese restaurant was perfectly adequate. After dark, the lights of the village of St Apollinaire, tomorrow's first stop, shone down from what seemed - and ultimately transpired - to be a great height.
Monday morning, we set off across the bridge, and up to St Apollinaire, where we boiled the billy - Boronia doesnt travel very far nor very happily without regular infusions of tea. From St Apollinaire, there is a fantastic vista back to Embrun, across to the hills hiding the monastery of Boscodon which we had diverted around the day before, and down the valley for at least two days walk. By the end of the day, we had made Chorges where we had planned to stay, but despite extensive use of hte mobile phone, we couèld find no accommodation. We decided to walk an extra three kms to Montgardin where there is an Auberge.
As we left Chorges, we went looking for water....taps are in surprisingly short supply when you need them, though most villages have permanently running fountains. In any case, we decided to walk into the yard of a nearby factory or storage depot to ask for water. We were met with quizzical looks, which I put down to my hat - which Boronia despises - and poor french, and given two large bottles of water from a nearby pallet. It was only as we left that we noticed the sign which explained that we had walked into a huge water bottling factory asking for water.
The Auberge du Moulin at Montgardin was superb. Restful garden setting, very french and friendly hospitality, wonderful food, much of it grown on the farm and transformed into confitures, fruit salads and more.... in short, heaven. We could have stayed a week.
Tuesday morning saw us setting off for Gap via Laus, a site of some importance to local catholics for reasons we dont entirely understand.... I think it was where St Benoit lived and worked. Of course, it is situated half way up a huge mountain, and our pathway took us to the very top before wending our way down to Gap after around six hours trekking plus a couple of rest stops for tea and lunch. We both managed the climb remarkably well, but felt quite sore by the end of the day.
We are spending a rest day in Gap, so have booked into a proper hotel including access to the internet which is allowing this blog update. Boronia jumped straight into the bath on arrival, but I decided against doing so on the grounds that i would have to fold myself in thirds to fit in, and given how stiff I am feeling, it might have proved impossible to unfold myself once I inserted myself in the bath cavity. I cant help thinking that the shape, size and comforts of baths in Paris or New York would be much more enjoyable than what is available here, let alone at home in Canberra, but then again, the privations of a pilgim's trek must amount to something if we are to gain the deferred benefits promised by the promoters of such adventures!
I dont think we have explained that we are following a set route, one of France's Grande Randonnees; ours is the GR653D, from Col de Mont Genevre / Briancon to Arles. Our next major stop is Sisteron, where we will take a day off if I can persuade Boronia to cease her incessant pedestrianism. It will take us around 24 days walking to Arles, and our progress beyond will require further negotiation.
So far, we have covered a total of over 130 kms in seven days, at an average of 18 kms a day. I count this as very good progress given the amount of climbing involved. At my lowest ebb yesterday, coming down into Gap over rocky paths, my feet feeling sore and sensitive, I asked myself why this might be so, and calculated the number of steps we had taken since Briancon. Some 180,000 steps, 90,000 for each foot!
We wish all readers of this idiosyncratic trek account the very best
mike
Saturday, September 18, 2010
So far so good
We have survived four days of walking!!!! We arrived in Briancon by train on day one, and checked into the Hotel de la Gare. From my childhood, I have known about railway hotels = in my home town, the Railway offered a range of trades = in dubious services. Some time in the middle of the night, I was set upon by a famished bedbug, which having sized up the dining options, decided that I should be the chosen one, completely passing Michael over: Having commenced his sup, in a decorative ring around my neck, the offender was caught and despatched.
Day 2 We start our walking on the GR 653D to a Gite in a very small village at the top of a very, very big mountain: I find that a relative of the bedbug has transformed itself into my backpack, and gradually sucks the life force out of me as the climb goes on, up, up, up and then more up. Our Guidebook says that food is available in the village, but when we finally arrive, there is no food = NO FOOD. Starving after the climb, we assemble our meagre rations to work out how they might furnish dinner and breakfast. We have eight rice crackers and some cheese. There are some goats outside and they look mighty tasty: At sundown; we are joined by another pilgrim who looks a bit lean to eat, but he has a jar of peas and carrots and some breadsticks! We discover some eggs in the kitchen, and put together a very passable meal of omelette and the vegies, and there's even enough for an egg on a rice cracker for breakfast.
The Gite is a fairly sparten affair, with bunkbeds, but it has a wondrous washing machine and a dryer; It is also the home of a large telescope, with a special room with an opening roof for viewing. We don't get to see the view through the telescope, but the view of the nightsky is truly beautiful.
We sleep well.
Day 3 The bedbug gets a grip early in the day. After the first 30 minutes of climb, I feel exhausted. The mountains are magnificent from a distance, but at close quarters are a torture chamber with the path designed by some twisted mind. Michael has taken on the form of the devil, and says 'there's not much more uphill', but it's a lie. Beware of false prophets on the path! Somehow, after about six hours we arrive in Argentiere. My pilgrim staff props me up, with little rests every hundred metres. As we stumble into the village, we make our first sighting of fellow pilgrims = a couple of around our age - I am embarrassed as they catch me at my lowest ebb, doubled over and moaning into the handle of my pilgrim staff. We discover that they speak French and not much English. We are too tired to make much of an effort, and they wonder if they should make a wide berth of this insane woman. We greet each other, and go to our respective accommodation. We walk thrugh the village to our Gite. We find that our hostess is wonderful, and shows us to a simple room, which is light and airy. We pack up two large boxes of surplus clothing and chattles at the La Poste; and send them back to Australia. The bedbug is firmly encased at the bottom of the first box. We stagger back to the Gite and fall down on the bed. Our host serves us a beautiful 3 course meal which ends with a creation of creme anglais, stewed peaches, stiffly beaten egg whites and crushed almond macaroons. I resolve to recreate it when I get back to my own kitchen.
Day 4 Legs getting stronger = first three quarters of the walk to Chateauroux Les Alpes is actually enjoyable. The scenery is spectacular. The day is hot, but the path takes us through shady forests, even if it keeps going ever up. I start to notice the many different wild flowers we pass - trying to drag their Latin names into my exhausted consciousness -was that Exygium or Erigeron?? And that's a hellebore, and there are lots of scabiosa. Most beautiful of all are the colchicums - or autumn crocus, which fill whole paddocks. If I keep a sharp eye out, there are also ripe blackberries, and surplus grapes on unguarded vines. Michael even concedes that he likes the walking poles! We find our hotel, just as our legs are buckling. Our hosts are very helpful, and have been alerted to the Australian couple staggering their way, by the pilgrims we met earlier on the trail.
Day 5 We are comforted by the red and white stripes that mark the way. Occasionallly in bigger towns, like Embrun where we are today, there will be a path of brass shells marking the way on the footpath. My heart has a little jump when I see them. But today, it was wet and we lost track of the red and white stripe markers two thirds of the way up a very high hill. Michael is a fantastic intuitive navigator but I have no sense of direction. I rely on the stripes - the STRIPES - where are they!! After much backtracking along various forks in paths in the grass and muddy tracks, we strike out on a forest trail that seems to be heading in the right direction. It goes on up, up qnd then more up, into the mists. We can see nothing below us now. We hear the bells on cows in the gloom. A man with a gun looms out of the mist. We ask him in broken French which way to Embrun - his hands go up and down, then up again, and he says something we don't catch, but it doesn't seem entirely hopeless, so we keep struggling up the path. Then the path goes down - and down - and we come to a junction where - hallelujah - we're reunited with the stripes!!!! And we do get to Embrun!!!
Day 2 We start our walking on the GR 653D to a Gite in a very small village at the top of a very, very big mountain: I find that a relative of the bedbug has transformed itself into my backpack, and gradually sucks the life force out of me as the climb goes on, up, up, up and then more up. Our Guidebook says that food is available in the village, but when we finally arrive, there is no food = NO FOOD. Starving after the climb, we assemble our meagre rations to work out how they might furnish dinner and breakfast. We have eight rice crackers and some cheese. There are some goats outside and they look mighty tasty: At sundown; we are joined by another pilgrim who looks a bit lean to eat, but he has a jar of peas and carrots and some breadsticks! We discover some eggs in the kitchen, and put together a very passable meal of omelette and the vegies, and there's even enough for an egg on a rice cracker for breakfast.
The Gite is a fairly sparten affair, with bunkbeds, but it has a wondrous washing machine and a dryer; It is also the home of a large telescope, with a special room with an opening roof for viewing. We don't get to see the view through the telescope, but the view of the nightsky is truly beautiful.
We sleep well.
Day 3 The bedbug gets a grip early in the day. After the first 30 minutes of climb, I feel exhausted. The mountains are magnificent from a distance, but at close quarters are a torture chamber with the path designed by some twisted mind. Michael has taken on the form of the devil, and says 'there's not much more uphill', but it's a lie. Beware of false prophets on the path! Somehow, after about six hours we arrive in Argentiere. My pilgrim staff props me up, with little rests every hundred metres. As we stumble into the village, we make our first sighting of fellow pilgrims = a couple of around our age - I am embarrassed as they catch me at my lowest ebb, doubled over and moaning into the handle of my pilgrim staff. We discover that they speak French and not much English. We are too tired to make much of an effort, and they wonder if they should make a wide berth of this insane woman. We greet each other, and go to our respective accommodation. We walk thrugh the village to our Gite. We find that our hostess is wonderful, and shows us to a simple room, which is light and airy. We pack up two large boxes of surplus clothing and chattles at the La Poste; and send them back to Australia. The bedbug is firmly encased at the bottom of the first box. We stagger back to the Gite and fall down on the bed. Our host serves us a beautiful 3 course meal which ends with a creation of creme anglais, stewed peaches, stiffly beaten egg whites and crushed almond macaroons. I resolve to recreate it when I get back to my own kitchen.
Day 4 Legs getting stronger = first three quarters of the walk to Chateauroux Les Alpes is actually enjoyable. The scenery is spectacular. The day is hot, but the path takes us through shady forests, even if it keeps going ever up. I start to notice the many different wild flowers we pass - trying to drag their Latin names into my exhausted consciousness -was that Exygium or Erigeron?? And that's a hellebore, and there are lots of scabiosa. Most beautiful of all are the colchicums - or autumn crocus, which fill whole paddocks. If I keep a sharp eye out, there are also ripe blackberries, and surplus grapes on unguarded vines. Michael even concedes that he likes the walking poles! We find our hotel, just as our legs are buckling. Our hosts are very helpful, and have been alerted to the Australian couple staggering their way, by the pilgrims we met earlier on the trail.
Day 5 We are comforted by the red and white stripes that mark the way. Occasionallly in bigger towns, like Embrun where we are today, there will be a path of brass shells marking the way on the footpath. My heart has a little jump when I see them. But today, it was wet and we lost track of the red and white stripe markers two thirds of the way up a very high hill. Michael is a fantastic intuitive navigator but I have no sense of direction. I rely on the stripes - the STRIPES - where are they!! After much backtracking along various forks in paths in the grass and muddy tracks, we strike out on a forest trail that seems to be heading in the right direction. It goes on up, up qnd then more up, into the mists. We can see nothing below us now. We hear the bells on cows in the gloom. A man with a gun looms out of the mist. We ask him in broken French which way to Embrun - his hands go up and down, then up again, and he says something we don't catch, but it doesn't seem entirely hopeless, so we keep struggling up the path. Then the path goes down - and down - and we come to a junction where - hallelujah - we're reunited with the stripes!!!! And we do get to Embrun!!!
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Change of Plan
Over a very nice meal here in Montpelier, we have decided to start our trek from Briancon in the Alps, and head west, towards Toulouse and Spain. Boronia's stated reason is that it will be cooler walking at this time of year - and it is quite warm. I have a suspicion however that the fact that we start high and end low may also have something to do with it. We travel by train to Briançon tomorrow.
mike
mike
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Singapore and London
Our flight to Singapore was uneventful. I watched some movies, the best of which was Animal Kingdom about Melbourne's underworld. And really about how we are prisoners of the choices we make.
Singapore was a chance to relax, explore,and enjoy the local food. Day one was spent exploring the areas around our hotel, the Muslim quarter, the Singapore Art Gallery, and the parliment house area, all on foot. A delicious lunch in a Burmese restaurant in the city. Day one was topped off with a text message from JB indicating that Labor had secured an agreement which would allow it ot form a minority government.
Day two was planned as a walking day in some of Singapore's parks,but our plans were abandoned shortly after what ended up as a three hour torrential downpour began. Instead, we explored Little India, and made a short foray into the old chinese quarter, which was too touristic for our tastes, so we made a quick exit. After lunch in Little India - biryani curry, and in the face of continuing rain, we headed for the airport, where we could relax in the lounge.
The flight to London was not too bad considering its length. Twelve hours sure beats twenty. Boronia had secured good economy seats, with plenty of leg room, the main criterion for me. We arrived at five thirty am this morning, feeling a little bleary. First priority was our hotel to drop our bags. Check in is around noon.
Second was to walk through the city for a while until the Tate Modern opened at ten am. A couple of hours there, and we were ready for a siesta. Lunch in a local Italian trattoria. On the way back we passed William Bligh's house in Lambeth Road. My joints creaked, my buttocks are already stiff from walking a few hundred meters with the pack. My arthritic knees almost buckled. I felt a mutinous twinge against the tyrrany and oppression of the trek organiser, but suppressed it in the interests of harmony and survival. The potential tongue lashing at any sign of mutiny would be worse than any cat o'nine tail available to Bligh. Here's hoping she doesnt read this! We have another couple of days here before we fly to Montpelier on Saturday evening.
I am pressuring Boronia to work out how to post some photos for your enjoyment!
Posting is likely to be irregular!
Singapore was a chance to relax, explore,and enjoy the local food. Day one was spent exploring the areas around our hotel, the Muslim quarter, the Singapore Art Gallery, and the parliment house area, all on foot. A delicious lunch in a Burmese restaurant in the city. Day one was topped off with a text message from JB indicating that Labor had secured an agreement which would allow it ot form a minority government.
Day two was planned as a walking day in some of Singapore's parks,but our plans were abandoned shortly after what ended up as a three hour torrential downpour began. Instead, we explored Little India, and made a short foray into the old chinese quarter, which was too touristic for our tastes, so we made a quick exit. After lunch in Little India - biryani curry, and in the face of continuing rain, we headed for the airport, where we could relax in the lounge.
The flight to London was not too bad considering its length. Twelve hours sure beats twenty. Boronia had secured good economy seats, with plenty of leg room, the main criterion for me. We arrived at five thirty am this morning, feeling a little bleary. First priority was our hotel to drop our bags. Check in is around noon.
Second was to walk through the city for a while until the Tate Modern opened at ten am. A couple of hours there, and we were ready for a siesta. Lunch in a local Italian trattoria. On the way back we passed William Bligh's house in Lambeth Road. My joints creaked, my buttocks are already stiff from walking a few hundred meters with the pack. My arthritic knees almost buckled. I felt a mutinous twinge against the tyrrany and oppression of the trek organiser, but suppressed it in the interests of harmony and survival. The potential tongue lashing at any sign of mutiny would be worse than any cat o'nine tail available to Bligh. Here's hoping she doesnt read this! We have another couple of days here before we fly to Montpelier on Saturday evening.
I am pressuring Boronia to work out how to post some photos for your enjoyment!
Posting is likely to be irregular!
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Almost on our way
Last minute preparations are well under way. Boronia has done a terrific job in researching lightweight materials, purchasing what is required and planning potential routes.
We are largely packed, though having trouble finding space for the last few items.
Mike has had trouble tearing himself away from work, with a range of issues still in play, and a degree of uncertainty about the final result. But he is working hard to focus on the trip now, and leaving the delights of parliament house behind. He was given a wonderful send off by his colleagues (who he will miss very much!). Next step scheduled for this afternoon is to give up the blackberry. Complete recovery may take some weeks.
First stop is Singapore where we stay two nights, before flying to London for a couple of days. Then we fly to Montpelier in the south of France. Beyond Montpelier is a subject of ongoing debate.
Option One (originally planned by Boronia and presently preferred by Mike) is to head for Italy via Arles and Col de Mont Genevre - a pass through the Alps. Option Two (being canvassed by Boronia) is to head west towards Toulouse, and thereafter, who knows. Resolution of this impasse will be the subject of intense negotiation over the coming days, and results will be advised once they are finalised. We are both committed to total transparency in assessing these issues, and any concessions made between the parties will be made public and if necessary independently costed.
We look forward to keeping all out friends informed of our progress and if we can manage it to posting the odd photograph.
In the meantime, we wish our friends, colleagues and family all the best.
mike
We are largely packed, though having trouble finding space for the last few items.
Mike has had trouble tearing himself away from work, with a range of issues still in play, and a degree of uncertainty about the final result. But he is working hard to focus on the trip now, and leaving the delights of parliament house behind. He was given a wonderful send off by his colleagues (who he will miss very much!). Next step scheduled for this afternoon is to give up the blackberry. Complete recovery may take some weeks.
First stop is Singapore where we stay two nights, before flying to London for a couple of days. Then we fly to Montpelier in the south of France. Beyond Montpelier is a subject of ongoing debate.
Option One (originally planned by Boronia and presently preferred by Mike) is to head for Italy via Arles and Col de Mont Genevre - a pass through the Alps. Option Two (being canvassed by Boronia) is to head west towards Toulouse, and thereafter, who knows. Resolution of this impasse will be the subject of intense negotiation over the coming days, and results will be advised once they are finalised. We are both committed to total transparency in assessing these issues, and any concessions made between the parties will be made public and if necessary independently costed.
We look forward to keeping all out friends informed of our progress and if we can manage it to posting the odd photograph.
In the meantime, we wish our friends, colleagues and family all the best.
mike
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