Vaucluse Dreamer

In so many ways, it’s been a mad few weeks and we will soon be starting on the chaos of the summer too. So we’ve thrown a bag of clothes in the car, loaded the bikes and have pottered across to the south west of France, for a couple of weeks of peace, quiet and just doing what we enjoy most.

Millie and Pusscat are happy, being cared for by house-sitters, and from the photos and videos we’ve seen, neither of them are in too much hurry to have us back.

We set off early (5am), a couple of days ago; driving along the peaceful roads out of the valley, watching lightning dancing across the night sky beyond Avignon, before a bright red sky silhouetted Mont Ventoux, with sheets of rain blurring its edges. Not the most auspicious start to a couple of weeks away.

We had set off with the mad idea of cycling out under the Millau Viaduct. It’s something we have wanted to do for many years, and had originally hoped to fit into our long ride down, last year. Were we going to be foiled by the weather? Quite possibly.

As we headed up the motorway towards Millau, the rain began to fall, but always the optimists we kept going. Driving down towards the town, we had our first view of the impressive structure, spanning the valley beyond Millau.

Perhaps we’d just have breakfast and see if the heavy rain passed, as it would be a shame not to do the ride now we were there.

Obviously, the weather Gods were feeling benevolent, and as we sat with a pain au chocolat (or chocolatine as they’re called here), the rain stopped leaving a blanket-grey, and angry sky, but that was good enough for us. We slurped down the rest of the coffee, dashed back to the car and wriggled ourselves into our cycling kit, trying not to commit any acts of indecent exposure in the process!

The road out of the town took us along the north bank of the river, and within minutes, we had sight of the viaduct towering above us. Its elegant, almost improbably fine design belies its strength. It’s hard to understand how it can carry so much weight & deal with the vibrations of vehicles using the motorway that runs across it.

The statistics give an idea of the sheer scale of the bridge … Pillars that tower 336 metres above the ground with a total span of 2.46 km, but it really isn’t possible to visualise, until you stand below. If you stood the Eiffel Tower next to it, the viaduct would still be nearly 50 m above it. It’s dramatic and very beautiful too … Yes I know it’s a viaduct, but it is beautiful.

We stood, admiring it from a nearby viewing point, and then as the clouds were still holding onto their rain, we continued on, passing through the pretty village of Peyre, with houses clinging to and built into the cliff

A short distance further on, the clouds couldn’t hold onto the rain any longer and we got very wet indeed. Happily, it was short-lived and we carried on, taking a loop out, pedalling up to the village of Montjaux, high above the valley floor.

The views back down to the river were worth the climb, and the views from the village itself were breathtaking, with the flat tops of the nearby hills, looking as if someone had cut all the summits off, in a fit of pique.

It was then a wonderful ride, swooping back downhill, stopping again at another viewpoint…

Before heading back under the viaduct, into Millau for a quick sandwich. Refreshed, we drove on again to our first stop for a few days, in the picture-perfect village of Montfort, in the Dordogne Valley.

The little cottage sits just below the Chateau, surrounded by simply beautiful buildings, giving the village the sense of having been pulled directly from the pages of a fairytale book. We spent the evening on the peaceful terrace, watching the swifts, martins and swallows playing around the rooftops. It was the perfect way to end the day.  You can see a short video of the day Here

We used to visit this area regularly when the boys were younger, and had spent many happy holidays here, before that too. So it’s somewhere we are really fond of and were looking forward to exploring it by bike again.

Yesterday, we hopped on the bikes and started by cycling into Sarlat, where the beautiful, medieval town was filled with stalls for the weekly Saturday market. We slipped in, past the cars that were queuing for parking spaces and ambled through the narrow streets, taking in the different produce on offer.

Here, there were stalls piled high with succulent, glossy prunes (some of which found their way into my bike bag) and all manner of goodies made with walnuts (again a slab of walnut and caramel tart was added to the bag).

But we didn’t stay long, as we had planned a ride out into the hills above the town and were keen to get pedalling. As we left the town centre, we heard the unmistakable purr of a 2CV, and watched as a little line of them drove past on a Saturday-morning drive … Fifi would have been in her element!

As we started to head out of the town, we immediately started to climb, not in a gentle Provence way, but in a ‘What! I need to get up that!’ way.

By the time we had climbed out, up a gradient that sometimes hit 14%, I was already in need of a little stop, and as we had happened to reach the top by a boulangerie, we sat on a bank eating a rather good pain au chocolat (sorry, chocolatine), which revived me for the route ahead.

From there, we followed a peaceful road, winding its way through poppyfields and walnut groves, passing beautiful house, after beautiful house. We found ourselves spending our imaginary lottery win many times over, on stunning places, with little dovecotes and cabanons in the garden. Don’t get me wrong, I love Provence and it’s home, but the houses here are picture-perfect, chocolate-box worthy and simply wonderful, and we’re all allowed to dream.

In the village of Saint-Crepin-et-Carlucet, we had a choice of routes, and turned right onto a road called Route des Vieux Bourgs, just because it sounded nice (and on a bike, it’s easy to do). Within moments, we knew we had made the right choice, sweeping out of the village towards a stunning chateau, with its beautiful garden and church too.

It was one of those jaw-droppingly beautiful places and we’ve since found it is the Chateau de Lacypierre , open to visitors for tours every day at 3pm. The tours are led by the owner’s family, and having looked at the website, we really must go and take a look at some point. It’s a real gem.

We continued on, simply enjoying the ride, along peaceful lanes shaded with trees, the verges bright with orchids and daisies too. It was still very steep in places, but I kept turning the pedals just enjoying the views, and the villages we passed through. Arriving in one, after another 12% climb, we laid on a bank listening to the church bells chime midday, and just enjoyed the sound of the insect chatter & swifts screaming overhead. It was perfect.

After a delicious half hour, we had to get on again, and continued through the lanes, enjoying every moment of freewheeling down the hills, only having to puff hard to climb the next hill into another village, but every turn of the pedal was worth it. we passed so many beautiful places, that we almost lost count, but our imaginary lottery win will need to be pretty substantial to afford to buy and renovate some of the glorious places we passed. But, we’d still love to have a go.

Finally, we arrived in Souillac, crossed the river and took the little road that follows the meanders of the river. Wonderfully shaded, and with a lovely coolness, thanks to the water, we pootled along and found a spot to sit on the bank, where we could just watch the water pass.

We lay in the lush grass, staring up at the leaves dancing in the gentle breeze above us, serenaded by Blackcaps, hopping around the branches. It was blissfully quiet, with the water flowing past, fallen leaves and twigs being whirled round in little eddies, dancing with each other as they came near. A heron flew past, its wings almost touching the river surface, before it stopped on the opposite bank, and settled to its business of fishing. It was about as peaceful as we can get in this busy world.

The peace was exploded, with the joyous chatter and laughter of children approaching in an armada of bright orange canoes, and we watched them pass, waiting for the noise to fade, as they disappeared around the next corner, before hopping on our bikes and pottering on again.

At Saint Julien de Lampon, we turned back across the river and followed the off-road cycle path, which takes the route of an old railway line back towards Sarlat, passing through a long tunnel, which took away the stickiness of the day.

We left it at Carsac and took the road back to Montfort, collapsing on the terrace, with a cold beer, and relaxing after a fantastic day’s ride. You can see how much fun it was By clicking here

Ernest Hemingway once said ‘it is by riding a bicycle that you learn the contours of a country best, since you have to sweat up the hills and coast down them’

I’ve always felt the same, and yesterday’s ride was a case in point.

We have always had the car before, but exploring by bike gave me a much better sense of this area, and it is incredibly beautiful. Ride away from the main roads and well-known villages and you find yourself in a staggeringly stunning and peaceful area.

It’s such a joy to visit it again.