Postcards from Provence and beyond

Thirty seven years ago today Andy and I wandered up the aisle of a little church, on the edge of the Cotswolds, and tied the knot.

So how better to celebrate the occasion than to take one of our favourite walks, on the Côte D’Azur, from Menton to the village of Saint Agnes.

During the last few years, we’ve loved spending time on the coast, over our anniversary. To be honest, february doesn’t really give many options for gentle, warm days, so the Côte D’Azur tends to be our go-to place, in the hope of seeing some sun.

Sometimes we’ve brought our bikes and pedalled along the coast road, to Monaco or Italy, and a few times up to the Col de la Madone, high above Menton too.

But, over the past few years, we’ve enjoyed the hike from Menton up to the pretty village of Saint Agnès, which perches on a rocky outcrop, many hundreds of metres above the town.

This morning, we caught the train from Villefranche through to Menton, stopping to buy a sandwich for lunch, en route, and set off on the walk, which is desiged to make us puff.

The walk starts on the promenade, before taking a turn and heading up a little road, before we head off onto the footpaths which wind their way up the hillside, criss-crossing the hairpin road, on the way.

It follows little, well-signed paths, which climb steeply between the hairpin bends,

before following the road, for some distance, where we can see Saint Agnès perched high above us. Although despite the weather forecast for the day, indicating that it would be sunny, the village remained resolutely veiled by a bank of low cloud.

We did hope that perhaps it would clear, before we arrived, as the view from the terrace at the edge of the village is spectacular. So on we climbed.

At this time of year, the air is scented with mimosa, and the banks are dotted with colour from the wild flowers that are coming into bloom.

We wandered up past verges dotted with the purple velvety faces of violets

And even the first banks of irises in flower.

The tracks twist into roads and back into stony tracks again, passing a relic of WW2, on the way.

As we climb, we get glimpses of the view back to the coast

And occasionally, as the cloud bank shifted, Saint Agnès appeared above us, as if to reassure us that it was still there.

The final approach to the village is through a little valley, where for the first time, the little stream was flowing over the rocks that have been dry, in previous years

Before climbing steeply, up an ancient path through a field that always reminds us of places that we have walked, in Devon. Today, we chatted to the pony that was happily gorging on the lush grass, as we heard the church bells tolling midday, above us.

Saint Agnès is a very pretty village with narrow cobbled streets, that are decorated with lemons, to mark the Menton Fete du Citron, but more of that later.

And even the delightful cockatoo.

Its an amazing display and that in itself is a ‘wonder of life’.

There is something rather wonderful about starting a walk from the sea and ending in a place that is about as far up in the sky, as you can see from below. It’s easy to see why Saint Agnès has the title of being the highest coastal village in Europe.

Arriving at the viewpoint is always a delight, as it’s what we describe as a rather chunky walk, to get there. And the views are to die for. Or they are, if the village isn’t shrouded in cloud. Today, the cloud acted like a veil, when we arrived, muting the view back to the coast, and within minutes, it had totally disappeared.

We found a bench overlooking ‘the view’, with the dramatic Maginot Line fortress, built into the cliffs behind…

Then pulled our jackets tightly around us, shivering as the cool, damp cloud enveloped us, very happy that Andy had carried everything we needed to make ourselves a steaming cup of fresh coffee, as we ate our sandwich.

It may not be the conventional champagne, wedding anniversary toast, but it was absolutely perfect, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Once the coffee had warmed us, it was tme to start heading back down, and if anything this is even more dramatic than the way up. We follow and ancient path that drops steeply down the rockface, in a series of tight, vertiginous hairpins.

It makes my knees wobble, if I get too close to the outside edge of the path, the sight of the steep drop, making my head spin. So I make my way down as close to the rockface as possible, gingerly watching every step, as I worry that if I take a tumble, I may roll quite a way down the path.

The air was scented with thyme that we crushed underfoot, as we made our way down, with incredibly tall ‘Robert’ orchids , growing by the path too.

Eventually the path down the rockface levels out a little and heads into woodland, the stony route winding its way through the trees, on the way back to the coast, eventually joining a little road, which we follow back towards town.

Arriving back on the promenade, after saying hello to the most incredible dog

We followed the road back towards the old town, and the port, through the seating areas that are set up for the Festival parades, before finding a bench, overlooking the marina, where we watched the world pass by, as we ate a much needed ice cream.

I do love the Fete du Citron. I remember seeing a postcard with it on, when I first visited the town with my parents, in my very early teens, and had always wanted to go. So it does have a special place in my heart.

This year, we’re not seeing any of the parades, but I am always astounded by the incredible citrus structures that dominate the Jardin Biovès, in the centre of the town.

I love wandering through the displays, amazed at what has been constructed, using a simple wire frame and thousands of fruits, which are held in place with appropriately coloured elastic bands.

I am always in awe of what is achieved by the groups responsible for each display, and this year they have excelled themselves.

The title of this year’s Fete is titled ‘Les merveilles du vivant’ – the wonders of life, and the creations are beautiful.

The huge tiger, at the entrance

The stunning whale

And the rather wonderful cockatoo

By the time we were on the train back to Villfranche, we felt we’d had a full, enjoyable and rather wonderful anniversary.

You can watch a short video From the walk and the Fête here

It has to be said, that we’re a little weary tonight, but will enjoy supper and raise a glass of wine to the last 37 years together, and hopefully many more to come.