WALK INN PROVENCE

!#?% COLD !!!

2012-02-09T03:26:00.000-08:00

A coldspell has taken over, and it's hardly justified to complain about sub-zero temperatures in Provence when other regions of Europe have been hit much harder. But I'll complain nonetheless. This sucks. I've been without water now for 6 days, Provençal plumbing insufficient for this type of cold. It's amazing how easy it is to take water for granted, and how stuck you are without it. Pipes in the region have frozen, others have burst. In 1956 and in 1986 the region suffered a similarly cold winter, so this happens every 30 years or so.

You may (if the you in question is Canadian) scoff at complaints of -5°C or -10°C. And so would I. But the Mistral! The northern Mistral winds have been howling at 100km/h, piercing any number of layers of clothing you may be wearing, sending the "feels like" temperature to levels that are keeping even a hardened and hearty Canadian such as myself indoors.

Below and above a waterwheel in the centre of Avignon, glazed with an icy coat, Rue des Teinturiers.

In the centre of Avignon...

cycling in the Alpilles

2012-01-26T01:58:00.000-08:00

Getting paid to cycle all day in the Provençal countryside isn't a bad deal really, and a welcome change from all the time I've been spending in the office lately.

Yesterday's reconnaissance took me some 80km through a countryside of olive groves windswept fields, while a moderate Mistral wind -- about 30km/h or so -- which was helpful at the start, but had me cycling directly into a headwind for the last two hours or so.

Below is the Oustau de Baumanière 5* hotel, nestled under the village of Les Baux de Provence. I was here to put together a new cycling itinerary staying in luxury accommodation: Cycling in Luxury

Below Les Baux to the south I cycled along tracks and back roads under a beautiful winter sky, in close to 15°C weather.

Someone should inform the Spanish broom that it isn't quite yet springtime:

But the mimosa is right on time:

At the end of my ride, climbing atop the pass and above the village of Les Baux de Provence, with the setting sun highlighting the 1000 year-old medieval buildings.

Vines in the winter

2012-01-17T02:00:00.000-08:00

Vines hidden in the countryside in between Gigondas and Sablet. I was here yesterday, rewriting a paragraph of the Roadbook of Walk Inn's holiday: Under the Silhouette of Mont Ventoux. You'll see in the photograph that the vines have been recently pruned, a very important step in the winter to limit the yield for the following September

We have had more than stellar reviews of our Roadbook for this particular holiday but needed to tweak one small section, where some of our guests became confused in orienteering. We take every tweak seriously, and for me it's a wonderful excuse to get out of my winter-hibernation-phase-in-the-office and get out on the trails.

David and Wendy's trip in the Alpilles Mountains

2012-01-13T06:12:00.000-08:00

The following are pictures taken by David and Wendy during their Alpilles trip with us in 2011, and were kind enough to share them with us. For more information about the trip, click on the link below:

A Walk Through Van Gogh's Provence

Walk through Van Gogh’s Provence

David & Wendy, Tasmania

May 2011

Our second trip with Walkinn. The accommodation, breakfasts and dinners were as expected. The hotel at Les Baux, Le Mas d'Aigret, was quite special. Our room had french doors onto a terrace where we could relax under an olive tree, and the restaurant served exquisite food. The walk itself was not as varied as our Luberon walk last year. The highlight was the first day up on the ridge line (do the extension walk – it is tough in places but well worth it). St Remy is a beautiful town and we were fortunate to be there on market day. Les Antiques and Glanum just outside the town were a delightful discovery and along with St Paul de Mausole deserve a separate visit on your first afternoon rather than just a quick look passing next day on the walk. Les Baux is a bit touristy but interesting none the less. No packed lunches this time which we preferred – all the bakeries will make up (wonderful) sandwiches for you. There was a mistake in the road book coming into Les Baux but that has now been fixed. Great weather as you would expect at this time of the year. We would again unhesitatingly recommend Walkinn.

Les Baux, seen from the walking trail:

Le Mas d'Aigret in Les Baux:

"Le rocher des des trous" (the rock of two holes), on the first walk from St. Rémy.

Forestry track leading up to the ridge of the Alpilles mountains:

Roman ruins in St. Rémy:

January in the Luberon

2012-01-12T02:16:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I went into the Luberon mountains to scout a new hike between the villages of Bonnieux and Lourmarin, and this for a luxury walking tour that Walk Inn now proposes: Luberon in Luxury.
But first was a visit of Lourmarin, and the B&B we'll be using there: Côté Lourmarin.

The 18th century building in Lourmarin was entirely restored last year by Christine Delatour, and converted into into a more-than-charming-actually-downright-sumptuous B&B. There are only two room in this guest house, set above the cobbled streets of the centre of the tiny village, and overlooking the cafés.
Below is the "lavande" room. As a male who has no sense of style or detail, I made sure to take as may photos as possible to remember...

The bathroom, with a marble sink.

The bathroom of the suite, with a luxury bathtub set in the centre and a huge walk-in shower, with possibly the largest shower head I've ever seen...

These "linear" walks, from A to B, require yours truly to use a bicycle at either the beginning or at the end of the walk. It was at the beginning this time, after leaving the car in Lourmarin (end of walk) and cycling up the road to Bonnieux (beginning of the walk). That doesn't make sense, does it? In any case this was one of those unfortunate times where the beginning of the walk just happened to be 250m higher in altitude than the end, which makes for an easy walk, but a sweaty bike ride.

The walk starts from Bonnieux and quickly reaches the crest of the mountain, from where -- at least yesterday -- the snow-capped chain of the Alps was clearly visible. It reminds me just how close everything is in France. From Sea to Alps just a short drive away...

It was a beautifully sunny winter's walk, about 15°C, and even up on the crest I was in a T-shirt, overlooking the gentle forested slopes of the Luberon:

Mont Ventoux looking back towards the north:

Rosemary in bloom on the sun-parched hills:

From the crest now looking towards the south:

On the path above the southern slope, getting ready for my descent towards Lourmarin. It was a beautiful walk, nice paths, and I'm more than convinced that Walk Inn's guests will enjoy it as much as I did.

It's days like these when I'm reminded why I moved here to Provence, surrounded by magical countryside, caressed by the warm sun and by the concentrated scent of thyme and pine needles.

Fontaine de Vaucluse

2012-01-10T01:04:00.000-08:00

Photo of the day: Kevin sent in a picture of the famed Fontaine de Vaucluse spring, taken in early November on our Colours and Scents of the Luberon holiday. After heavy rains this fall the level of the spring was quite high here, as it collects water from the intricate system of underground rivers and lakes...

The spring is at least 300m deep but no one or machine has ever made it to the very bottom...

John and Marcia's "Walk Inn" Provence...

2012-01-06T03:37:00.000-08:00

I'm really excited about posting the following blog entry: I didn't write it, not did I take the pictures. The following is an excerpt of John's photos and captions, taken from his Picassa albums. He and Marcia embarked on our full-week Luberon holiday in April 2011, and they were very generous in sharing their photos with us:
Luberon: Medieval villages and Hidden Trails
At the bottom of the blog entry I've included links to the full Picassa albums, which are very enjoyable...

The next day we taxi to the nearby village of Fontaine de Vaucluse to begin our walk. At about noon we start on our walk. We're headed to the "perched village" of Gordes, about 4.5 hours away.

We climb and climb, but seem to get nowhere. Despite perfectly clear instructions, I have stupidly led us up the wrong trail! (nice trail, though).

... straight to our B and B, just beyond town!

But the next morning is lovely and we happily hit the trail! Our goal is the ancient Abbey of Senanque, hidden somewhere in this dry, stony landscape. After several hours of pleasant walking we reach the abbey, famously set in fields of lavender (not yet in bloom). Founded in 1148, it still houses a community of Cistercian monks.

We loop back to Gordes via a more dramatic route ...

We explore medieval Gordes ..

Today we walk from Gordes to Goult ...

...mostly along quiet lanes bordered by stone walls and bories, olive groves, and the odd cliff dwelling. It's an easy 4-hour walk, and we meet almost no one ...

Soon we enter the charming village of Goult.

We also get good views of Mt. Ventoux, the highest mountain in Provence.

At lunchtime we reach the village of Lacoste, dominated by the Marquis de Sade's ruined castle. After lunch at the Cafe Sade, we climb to the castle. This deserted stone village is perhaps slightly sinister? Or is it just my imagination? At the castle, the door is shut (fine with me). Let's move on.

Leaving Lacoste, we head for Bonnieux.

Looking north, Mt Ventoux ...

After the long relaxing lunch we saunter on ... reaching, quite unexpectedly ...

... an astonishing precipice! Our inn lies below. A rocky descent into the Aiguebrun Gorge brings us to L'Auberge des Seguins, our refuge for the night.

We start our last day walking in the gorge by the Aiguebrun River. The trail is completely ours, as usual.

.. and enter Sivergues, a hamlet far off the beaten track.

... all the way to Saignon, our final destination. We find La Pyramide, our delightful B & B.

... We climb to the top for a fine view of Saignon. Goodbye, France. Tomorrow we go to Spain.
(the end)

John's Albums:

View Album

Hi Stuart,

We had a wonderful time on your "Medieval Villages and Hidden Trails" walk last spring and I'm now really itching to do the new one from the Alps to the Sea. Unfortunately, we live far far away, so it will be some time before we are in France again. Meanwhile, I'm sending you separately my four detailed photo albums of the Luberon walk. Feel free to post the links or use any or all of the material.

Thanks so much for the wonderful service you provide.

John, Hawaii

Chico and the Gypsies

2011-11-07T00:26:00.000-08:00

You think you know everything about Provence until you feel dumb about something you really should have known but didn't.

Let me explain: The Gypsy Kings are originally from Arles, in the South of France. The founder of the group, Chico, parted with the Gypsy Kings early on (contract dispute) and formed his own group -- Chico and the Gypsies -- who we listened to on Thursday, in Arles. 15 years ago Chico built a restaurant/small concert hall complex on the banks of the Rhône River, in Arles, called Le Patio. Chico and the Gypsies perform concerts there, among more prestigious venues in the country.

Dinner was a paëlla cooked on a wood fire, best I've ever had:

My last week of guiding this season: Peregrine Adventures in the Luberon

2011-10-19T02:28:00.000-07:00

There are many paths to choose from in Provence; a spiderweb of trails criss-crossing the hillsides and mountain ranges. And after 6 years and perhaps 600 days out in the field either guiding or scouting, I'm still discovering new paths.

I took my last group of the season along a new trail -- at least new to me -- along the Aiguebrun River in the heart of the Luberon Mountains...

...crossing an old wooden footbridge,

...and taking a swim. The water was around 10°C, and Chelsea was able to brave the waters. (her facial expression lets us know just how cold it was). As any guide should I jumped in as well!

Via the Aiguebrun we reached our place of stay for the next three nights: the Auberge des Seguins. Here Frances is lugging her suitcase among the centuries-old buildings.

The following day we began our walk just outside the village of Gordes. The heart of the village is quite touristy, but the outskirts remain souvenir-shop free, a cluster of stone homes and cobbled paths leading down to the Calavon Valley, and here with an old 4L car.

Climbing up towards the heart of the village of Gordes:

Lunchtime in the countryside, and Chelsea having her dose of chocolate:

The autumn colours (the fustet or smoke tree) adorning a path above Sénanque Abbey and back towards Gordes.

On Wednesday, heading out of the Aiguebrun valley and up towards the village of...

...Sivergues, a small town with a permanent population of about 30.

Sivergues comes from six vierges in French, meaning "six virgins". Apparently, at least as the story is told, the village was first settled by six virgins and one monk. Lucky guy.

Above the village of Sivergues we reached the Castellas farm, where Chelsea did her best to communicate with one of the locals.

The end of the walk took us to the remains of the Fort de Buoux, some parts of which are 3000 years old.

On Thursday morning, after climbing out of the Aiguebrun Valley, and looking back towards the fort on the opposite slope:

A short transfer by car took us to the village of Lacoste, where we visited the ruins of the castle of the Marquis de Sade. Looking out of the old village gate in the picture below, you can contemplate the Roman-tiled roofs of the old homes and Mont Ventoux in the background.

In the village of Séguret at the outset of our last walk:

Walking above the vines on a farming track:

Mont Ventoux seen from our base in Vaison la Romaine. We climbed to the summit on Friday, theoretically a day off for the group, but most were keen on getting to the top. Unfortunately your truly forgot his memory card for the camera the day of the climb, and so no pictures to put on the blog... We saw a group of chamois near the summit; the camera was missed...

In Vaison la Romaine in the old town:

Beth getting to work as we prepare for the wine and cheese evening at the hotel.

A tiny square in the village of Séguret, and Chelsea blending into the background?

The cobbled streets in Séguret:

Our last walk through the vines:

Thanks to Sally, Mina, Chelsea, Frances, Beth, and Bob for a wonderful end to my hiking season.

And now it's back to the office...

Lenge Leve Norge

2011-10-16T04:22:00.000-07:00

24 Norwegians bicycling through Provence, their Viking stature, presence and exuberant joy difficult to ignore, somewhat unsteadying at first, but quickly contagious, and a pleasure and honour to be part of.

I spent the past week cycling through the tiny villages of Provence with a group from central Norway, brought together by their local newspaper: Stjordalens Blad.

"Long Live Norway", written on a tiny road in the heart of the Provençal countryside -- and even chanted by Michel -- to the joy and surprise of the group.

Nearing the end of the first ride we arrived in the village of Fontaine de Vaucluse, the source of the Sorgue River. The waters exit the source at a constant 12°C all year. As a joke I offered a beer to the first person to jump into the waters, and they all started hopping in...

Along the quiet streets outside the village of Pernes les Fontaines:

Philippe worked the support vehicle all week long, taking care of the picnics and flat tires:

Terje outside our hotel in Isle sur la Sorgue, convinced he'll blend into French culture...

The Norwegians can't be slowed down. On their "day off" a group decided to climb to the summit of Mont Ventoux, arguably France's most difficult climb by bike:

A view of the hairpin turns leading to the summit:

But we enjoyed the plains as much as the mountains, cycling along orchards and vineyards and from village to village:

The group was accompanied by Svein Erik Vold, a professional cyclist from Norway, having finished his grueling season. He was kind and helpful all week, and we all hope to see him one day on the roads of the Tour de France.

Outside our winetasting cellar in St. Rémy, still managing to smile after a 2km climb up a rocky road. I had actually wanted to book a winetasting elsewhere, but I managed to mix up the estate names, and had to drag the group up a fairly arduous detour, unplanned. I was furious with myself, but the group accepted the mistake as more of a challenge, always keeping their good humour, and never once -- not any of the 24 of them -- making me feel bad about the error. It's a testament to the kindness and good nature of the group and of the Norwegian people in general.

Visiting the village of Les Baux de Provence:

Proudly displaying a Ventoux jersey after having been at the summit:

Ella enjoying the Provençal sun in a café in the town of Graveson, just south of Avignon.

And here she is again later that day with a helmetful of thyme and rosemary picked on the hills of the Montagnette.

Here's Sonja atop the montagnette and blasted by the Mistral winds.

Halvard and Anne-Brit atop the Montagnette. If you position yourself just right to take the picture, with the cathedral behind the subjects, you can get a devilish result:

After our ride around St. Rémy, and before reaching our hotel, half the group spontaneously stopped for a beer (well, you can't really qualify Norwegians stopping for a beer as "spontaneous", it's quite planned really...)

I'd like to thank each one of the group for such a wonderful time. It was an unforgettable experience for me. If only the Norwegians could export more of their joie de vivre...
Rendezvous next year in Norway for a reunion?

Reconnaissance on the Aiguebrun River

2011-10-16T04:20:00.001-07:00

Here are a few photos from last Thursday's reconnaissance walk in the Luberon, as I was creating a new "Roadbook" for Walk Inn.

The regions' network of walking paths is so vast that even after years of experience in the same mountain, there are always new trails to be discovered, such as along the base of the Aiguebrun gorge, seen below:

This part of the path was magnificent, with lush vegetation and pools of water for swimming. But the path here isn't well trodden, overgrown in parts, and no waymarks to be found: I had to be extra careful in writing the written descriptions to guide our self-guided guests.

An old wooden footbridge over the Aiguebrun river:

The reconnaissance was to include a new hotel along the banks of the river: the stunning and elegant Auberge de l'Aiguebrun.

Part of the hotel: day beds along the river...

A short story:

During my day of reconnaissance I crossed paths with a group of 17 walkers from a major American adventure company. The major American adventure company in question, much like most other foreign (non-French) adventure companies, do not use certified and professional mountain guides to lead their groups: they use post undergrad students, who are "leaders" and not guides, happy to be paid to travel. The French guiding diploma isn't a breeze to obtain, needing two years of training and schooling, ensuring that there is a minimum standard in the guiding community, and a sort of protection for those who are certified; it is theoretically forbidden to guide without the diploma.

To try and shorten this story, let's say that on more than one occasion I've pointed out to these trip leaders that they really shouldn't be leading in France, and that they are essentially depriving professional guides -- people who do this for a living and know the region and its paths intimately -- of work. I've actually had to steer such leaders in the right direction at times, literally, as they were lost with their groups... I met the very kind and outgoing leader of the American group in question, one of two leaders actually, and spoke to her without any of the agression I have reserved in the past for "tour leaders". Besides, I would have probably jumped on the opportunity to do what she's doing if I were in her shoes, and would never have guessed how taking the job would impact the situation of local guides. And so I was nice. Friendly. And upon return to my vehicle -- as I had left it to walk the river -- I found the following on my car, a snack that she had also reserved for her guests, and now also for me:

Good karma. It's a small token really, but a good lesson in restraint and in kindness.

With Peregrine Adventures ...

2011-10-16T04:19:00.000-07:00

I didn't get to lead this holiday for Peregrine at all last year, which was quite disappointing; it's one of my favourites to guide: a good mix between the in-the-middle-of-nowhere Auberge des Seguins and active town of Vaison la Romaine, beautiful scenery, and lovely walks. And plus these trips always bring a group of Aussies and Kiwis, who are probably the best travellers on the planet.

We began outside the town of Bonnieux, on what would be a sizzling hot week. Below Lynne is approaching the village of Buoux, nearing the end of the first day's walk.

We spent the first three nights in the Auberge des Seguins, seen below, from the cliff that you can make out at the very bottom left of the photograph. I zoomed in to take the picture: the cliff is about 100m high here; I joked with the group that we were going to rappel down to the Auberge, but we found a hidden mule track -- hundreds of years old -- that descends gently to the base of the cliff.

I've probably mentioned it several times in this blog, but I'll repeat it once more: the Seguins is my favourite place to stay in the region. Cut off from the world (except from wifi reception, which is slowly filling in even the most remote locations), no roads, no television, at the intersection of the most beautiful paths in the Luberon mountains, total bliss.

Yours truly from my room in l'Auberge des Seguins (yes, despite the outward appearance, there's running water and even a private bathroom in each room!).

Our second walk brought us to the village of Gordes; it's a fairly touristy village, a victim of its beauty, and I like to start walking into the village from outside, up the cobbled streets where the tourists don't venture. It's much prettier without the façades of tourist shops:

Some goodies after our picnic break:

Above the Auberge des Seguins, at the Castellas goat farm, where I often encounter friendly pigs and goats:

On our "free day" I took the group to the summit of Mont Ventoux, probably my favourite hiking in the region. Below Julie is contemplating a 1000m deep rockslide:

Though Ventoux is more known for its cycling, its walking paths are stunning, first through forests of larch, beech, and pine, and then up through the scree towards the summit.

Though Tod had other ideas about how to climb to the summit...

Starting from the town of Bedoin, Tod climbed the mythical mountain and met us at the top for a well-deserved lunch.

Gotcha Chamois!!!

I took this shot at about 1700m along the north face of the mountain. Chamois spend most of their time around the steep slopes of scree, where their climbing skills are unmatched (they could beat any Tour de France cyclist to the summit from the base...).

On our last walk, starting in the village of Séguret:

The walk took us through reputed wine country, just in time for the harvest:

Here we are in front of the Auberge des Seguins. A big thanks to Pierre, Julie, Susan, Lynn, and Tod for a wonderful week in Provence.

A week with Walk Inn Provence

2011-10-16T04:14:00.000-07:00

For Walk Inn Provence, this is one of my favourite holidays to lead. Using three very different bases, we set off to explore (two days each): the Dentelles de Montmirail, then the Luberon, and finally the Alpilles mountains, giving my guests a great overview of some of the most majestic landscapes of Provence.

It had rained the day before the trip start, the only non-walking day I've had over the past two weeks, and the only rains as well. But as is customary in Provence after a rainy day, the chilly Mistral winds kick in, and our first day of walking was at 15°C, a veritable temperature nosedive after walking in 30° weather all last week. But the Mistral winds always bring clear views and make for beautiful photographs. Below, we are on the crest of one of the "Dentelles", a set of three limestone teeth hovering high above the Rhône Valley.

Sitting above the village of Gigondas, the foothills of the Dentelles chain are laden with famed vineyards, planted on terraces carved into the steep slopes. In the backdrop of the picture and in the clouds is Mont Ventoux, Provence's highest mountain.

But best of all in the Dentelles mountains is the Florets hotel, nestled in the vines, and in the heart of the appellation of Gigondas. We stayed there two nights. Their food is to die for, and one of the many perks of being a mountain guide...

And we can walk off those fabulous meals the following day! Leaving Gigondas after our second night at the hotel, we find tracks that wind through the vineyards and into the plains, where we enter the olive groves of Beaumes de Venise.

After our pushup contest (which I handily lost), Christina relishes in her victory...

Walking along the Carpentras canal on our way to the centre of Beaumes de Venise:

A bakery in the village of Lourmarin, on the southern slope of the Luberon:

And just before arriving in Lourmarin, Christina makes a friend:

Our base for the 2nd part of the trip: the Auberge des Seguins hotel deep in the Luberon:

Merope at the hotel, just before dinner:

Our picnic lunches prepared by the Auberge des Seguins. Yum!

Diane preparing herself for the secret staircase to leave the Fort de Buoux:

And here's Cindy making her way down the vertiginous limestone steps, carved into the rock 3000 years ago.

Neville displaying the finer points of the game of Pétanque while brother Darryl watches. Sorry boys, you were up 12-3 but we came back to win 13-12 (just though I'd remind you...)

The photo below isn't great but captures what I've never seen from the summit of the Luberon mountains (where the shot was taken): the Ecrins mountains -- the snowy peaks in the background -- about 200 kilometers away and culminating at over 4000m in altitude.

But Neville has better things to do on the ridge of the Luberon: a Provençal sieste!

After the Luberon we took a short transfer to Saint Rémy, at the foot of the Alpilles mountains.

My favourite place to eat in Saint Rémy: the Mirabeau restaurant with its XL salads, the one below complete with an entire camembert cheese. At the expense of having to leave some of the garnishes, the camembert was finished...

Darryl nearing a summit of the Alpilles mountains, above St. Rémy. The windswept crest offers fantastic views of the Rhône Valley below, flat as a pancake.

Mother and daughter both taking a picture from atop the Alpilles of the medieval village of Les Baux de Provence, the end point of our last walk.

A sign of the times.
In Les Baux de Provence, a riverboat tourist -- in her 70s --using her iPad to take pictures of the medieval buildings.

My group outside a café in Les Baux de Provence, a building held by the same family for 400 years:

A short taxi transfer took us to the Roman city of Arles, where we spent the last night of our holiday. Here we are exploring the labyrinth of streets in the centre of town.

The whole group outside the Auberge des Seguins: thank you to Merope, Neville, Donna, Darryl, Christine, Cindy, and Diane for a great week!!

Up towards the coliseum in Arles:

A week with Pierre and Gina

2011-09-27T06:43:00.001-07:00

The 4 star Welcome hotel, set on the Villefranche bay, made for an elegant setting for a Walk Inn holiday last week. The building is centuries old and has "welcomed" illustrious guests, including Picasso.

Breakfast at the Welcome hotel as the morning bustle plays out on the bay, with local fisherman and café owners. I never miss a chance for bacon and eggs when I can get it (some North American traditions die hard...)

After a week with 18 guests, this week had only two: Pierre and Gina from New York.

Our first walk on the peninsula of Saint Jean Cap Ferrat included the purchase of a 3€ tomato at the small market stall below.

The 14th century Rue Obscure in the heart of Villefranche sur Mer

The sky the following morning as we left for the train station. The rain would hold off all day and the cloud cover would provide solace from the hot summer sun as we walked through the back country.

The church steeple as we look up to the village of Castellar, to the lower right of the photo. We had planned an easier walk from the village of Sainte Agnès to Gorbio, but decided upon another route leading all the way down -- save the 200m climb to Castellar -- to the Mediterranean Sea. On two more occasions we would stretch the "level 1" walking holiday into level 2, considering Pierre and Gina are still fit for even more challenging outings (do a level 3 next time!!).

Gina in the sleepy town of Castellar, after a long climb. Luckily Pierre was by my side to keep the pace reasonable, as Gina could have otherwise run circles around me.

In Castellar:

Arriving in the town of Menton after a long day's walk:

The following day, after a train ride to Cannes, we walked on the island of Sainte Marguerite. Set just 1km off the coast of Cannes, the unbuilt island, with its quiet coves and walking paths, offers a stark contrast to the Louis Vuittoned coastline in Cannes (yes, I just used Louis Vuitton as an adjective).

Gina admiring the views from the island.

We spent the night in Nice, and walked along the famed Promenade des Anglais. Hey Pierre, can you spot yourself in the picture?

Colourful statues sitting and kneeling in quiet contemplation, overlooking the Place Massena in Nice.

After a night in Nice we spent the day in Aix en Provence, not planned for in the itinerary but Pierre and Gina had never been there before, and it was on the way to the Luberon. We went to my favourite restaurant in town, Jacquou le Croquant. You will note that when using Google, or any other internet translator, the results can be interesting, such as on the menu below:

But who cares about the translation on the English menu when the Cassoulet is good:

From within the cloister of the Saint Sauveur Cathedral in Aix en Provence:

My Provençal parents joining us on our hike in the Luberon mountains, looking over a limestone wall...

Our hike in the Luberon took us up to the rounded summits, laden with thyme:

From with a "borie": a centuries-old dry stone hut where we had a break during our final walk to the village of Lacoste:

Nearing Lacoste:

We passed some ripe muscat grapes, and couldn't resist the temptation:

Under the village of Lacoste, crowned by the ruins of the castle of the Marquis de Sade:

Through the medieval streets of Lacoste, just under the castle:

Thanks to Pierre and Gina for a wonderful week of jokes and hiking through the countryside. Next time bring me some pickles.

The Swiss on the Golden Islands

2011-09-27T06:40:00.001-07:00

Prosenectute: a group of retired Swiss walkers, French-speaking, spending the week with me walking the Iles d'Or: the "Golden Islands". We were based in the seaside town of Le Lavandou and every day we walked through the region, whether on the coastline or on the islands.

The group members were easily recognizable by their orange hats, which each of them sported when I met them at the Marseille train station:

Taking the train from Marseille to Toulon:

Our first walk began from the hotel in Le Lavandou, and up to the town of Bormes les Mimosas, famous for its flowered gardens and streets. Leading the group in the photo below is Candide, over 80 years old and still walking strong...

Our second walk was on the island of Porquerolles, a 45 minute ferry ride from Le Lavandou.

Being the end of August the island was packed with cyclists and beach-goers, but we still found some seldom-used paths to get away from the crowds. In the photo below, up at the fort, Rosemary overlooks the bay:

"Couscous de poisson" at a restaurant on the island. I was the only one who
managed to finish the plate (there were 19 of us...)

Alice, almost 80 years old, still climbing trees...

The island of Porquerolles harbours a botanical conservation zone, including an olive grove with dozens of varieties of olive trees. In the interior of Provence you won't find any olive trees this big, as almost all of them perished in the frost of 1956.

Back at the Petite Bohème hotel, a gecko on the wall while we were eating at the restaurant...

But the gecko was hungry too, and managed to swipe a cricket as we watched the scene. The ladies in my group let out some bursts of laughter, and the gecko, now frightened, dropped the cricket and hid behind the menu board (to the right of the photo). Displeased with the outcome, Alice (from the olive tree) got up from her seat, picked up the cricket, and standing up on a chair put it back on the wall...

Our third walk together was along the coastline of the mainland and probably, at least as far as my experience goes, the most spectacular walking in the region. From the Pellegrin beach to Cabasson beach the coast is unbuilt, with a path carved into the jagged rocks and along hidden beaches. In the photo below Marie-Claire is heading towards the Brégançon fort, seen to the very left of the photo. The fort is now used as the President's vacation residence (though Carla Bruni has better real estate 10km to the east)

Children playing on a kayak in the water:

My last evening at the Petite Bohème hotel/restaurant, complete with a jazz band in the magnificent courtyard.

Bruno, the hotel manager (formerly a chef), serving our table. You'll notice the headscarves on the ladies in my group: knowing that the band would play some gypsy-style music, my Swiss group decided to play the part...

Our last walk on the Island of Port Cros, the national park:

Leaving the port and heading towards the lush forests of cork oak and tree heather:

Candide sitting on a trunk of tree heather:

Hedwige looking over the sheer cliffs to the south of the island:

Along one of the many paths of the island. This is what a Mediterranean forest should look like if untouched and protected, not the brush vegetation so often associated with Provence:

On the ferry back to Le Lavandou after a week's walking vacation:

The whole group with the village of Bormes les Mimosas as a backdrop. Many thanks to a wonderful bunch of ladies (and Roger and Candide, the two men), showing that even in your 70s and 80s there's still lots of adventure left in your legs...

A new walking holiday in the back-country of Nice

2011-08-19T06:40:00.000-07:00

All of you have heard of the French Riviera -- la Côte d'Azur. But behind the coastline, in the hills that back right up to the water, lie dozens of seldom-visited villages, and linked by marvelous walking trails, often the ancien paths from one village to the next. Here you'll find authentic people and an authentic welcome, and just a fraction of the tourists who vie for space along the crowded beaches below.

My job here last week was to create a self-guided walking holiday, starting at the town of La Brigue and slowly making my way down to Menton, on the Mediterranean Sea. I stayed in a local gîte for two nights in La Brigue, run by farmer Jean-Louis Molinaro, seen in the picture below.

The cozy medieval village of La Brigue is set just below the Italian border, and in fact was Italian until 1947. The town is a fusion of Franco-Italian culture: the street names, the architecture, the foods, and the language: you'll hear as much French as Italian spoken on the streets, if not the local Brigasque dialect.

The gem of the town is set 2km away: the Notre Dame des Fontaines chapel, and its eerily intact 15th century Italian frescoes, depicting a 25-step version of the Passion of Christ.

The colourful façades in La Brigue.

The walking paths around town lead up in every direction: the villages are nestled at the base of the valley and the the slopes are green and steep. The Italian border is the natural ridgeline that can be seen in the background in the photo below, and is also the watershed that divides water that falls either into the Mediterranean or the Ardiatic Seas. Via these paths, and on a very pleasant and panoramic hike, I reached Tende, the last town before the Italian border.

Where Italy meets France on the railway line...

The last French towns before the Italian border are serviced solely by an Italian train, a remnant of the region's not-so-distant Italian past. In the town of Breil-sur-Roya passengers switch to the modern and comfortable French counterpart, always a pleasure to ride (when they're on time...)

Without a doubt the most spectacular village in the valley is Saorge, perched vertiginously above a gorge, its homes narrow and many stories high (many stories by medieval standards...), taking advantage of the small space available on its rocky crag, and all facing the southern sun like a cramped field of sunflowers.

In Saorge, a seemingly chaotic, gravity-defying and lego-like architecture of homes built atop one another and separated by narrow, cobbled streets.

In Saorge...

My next stop was Breil-sur-Roya, a town shaped like a crescent -- or should I say croissant -- along the Roya River. Here too you'll find a mix of all things Italian and French, with a great little off-the-beaten-path restaurant La Bonne Auberge.

From Breil sur Roya the real fun begins on the walking trails: the paths follow alongside centuries-old terrace walls and through the olive groves, halfway between valley and crest. On my last day of walking I would witness the crumbling of a section of a stone terrace wall just 50m ahead of me on the path -- a wall, several times older than myself, meeting its end before my eyes, giving me a sense of both eternal and finite at once...

In the middle of nowhere the tiny village of Piène Haute appears, just a stone's throw from the Italian border (not a figurative stone's throw but a literal one, and especially considering the village's perched position, the stone makes it to Italy without a problem).

Beyond Piène Haute, and via a path adorned with ancient specimens of olive trees, you make it to Italy, in the small village of Olivetta

In Italy the dress codes change and even the public bathroom signs are more elegant:

The menu in the village's sole restaurant could use some work, although the crazy water fish was tempting.

The walk led to the medieval town of Sospel, seen below:

Above the town of Sospel, a refreshingly shaded path through the ash forest, and in easy zigzags, leads to...

...the summit of Mont Ours. At over 1200m in altitude, I'm perched high above the Mediterranean, with an awe-inspiring panorama. In the very centre of the photo is the goal of the day's walk: the medieval village of Saint Agnès, itself perched at 800m above sea level. Only 3km from the coastline as the crow flies, Sainte Agnès is touted as the highest coastline village in Europe ("highest coastline" is a bit of an oxymoron but we'll overlook it) .

Entering Sainte Agnès' cobbled streets:

I'd been in the village at least ten times, but this would be the first time I'd spend the night. The hikers' hotel Saint Yves proved to be far more comfortable than I had imagined, its prices miraculously outdated for the Riviera, a wonderful ambiance, and two meals in their restaurant that even I couldn't finish (and I'm never frightened by large portions).

A view from my room:

A stained glass maker in town:

The streets of Sainte Agnès at dusk...

From the village of Sainte Agnès, looking out towards the Bay of Menton, tomorrow's walking destination.

From Sainte Agnès most of the day is a descent save the 30 minute walk up to the perched village of Castellar. Castellar, with its quiet streets, sole bar and grocery store, is a last bastion of tranquility before reaching the Côte d'Azur.

The walk descends right atop the old part of Menton, probably the prettiest town on the Riviera:

Menton...

Check our website soon for this new holiday, available as of September, 2011!!!

Pierre's trip with Walk Inn...

2011-07-26T00:44:00.000-07:00

Our friend Pierre, a very experienced guide, led Walk Inn's latest walking trip through Provence. But Provence isn't just about walking: below Pierre is describing the finer details about the strategy of the game of Pétanque. The only thing missing from the scene is the glass of Pastis...

But Pierre did indeed walk with his group. The photo below was taken atop the Alpilles mountains, at a spot called the Rocher des deux trous, or "rock of two holes". One of the holes is seen below, framing the town of St. Rémy de Provence.

In St. Rémy de Provence Pierre took his group to his favourite off-the-beaten-track spot, a restaurant set within an ancient quarry, where its proprietor and only worker, now 80 years old, still does all the preparation and cooking himself (I'll have to check it out next time I'm in St. Rémy).

Here is the famed Auberge des Seguins: a renovated 17th century goat farm, and modernized into a hotel.

And Pierre's group atop the Alpilles mountains, overlooking the 1000 year-old village of Les Baux de Provence.

I'll be leading this very same trip in September, and there's still some space available. To check out the holiday:
www.walkinnprovence.com/wine, mountains, and perched medieval villages

Peregrine's French Riviera trip

2011-07-09T10:09:00.000-07:00

This was the first time I've led a walking holiday along the coast in July, and probably the only time I've ever been to the Riviera during the summer holidays. The trains are packed and the beaches blanketed by a solid mass of tan-seekers. But up in the hills, just a stone's throw from the Mediterranean, the perched medieval village of Sainte Agnès remains timeless and quiet, here surrounded by a veil of thick morning cloud:

Up in the hills, we continued along an ancient cobbled path to the village of Gorbio, seen below:

In the village of Gorbio:

The morning market in Menton, including the irresistible pickled garlic :

Our morning walk in Nice was topped by a short climb to the former castle hill, from where all of Nice was layed out:

Aix en Provence on Wednesday. It's not that all of the sudden everybody is now drinking "Coca Light". More of a promotion: a dozen scantilly clad teenagers dressed in red and white and handing out free samples at a busy roundabout:

The main fountain in Aix en Provence, one of many majestic fountains in town:

On Thursday the summer heat put a halt to our walking plans. We decided to head to the Mediterranean to the tiny, modest and tourist-free fishing port of Niolon, just west of Marseille. We sat for a leisurely lunch at a wonderful café, and then tested the waters in the afternoon. It was exciting to break from plan, discover a place I had never been, and wield both camera and excitement as much as anyone else in my group:

But it is a walking holiday after all! And so on Friday we were transferred to the Alpilles mountains for a last walk, amongst the pines and aromatic herbs, with a beautiful breeze and clear views:

A view of the coliseum on our last night, in Arles.

A big thanks to Sean, Al-dog, Cynthia, Lynn, and Sharyn for your company this week.

Walking with Peregrine Adventures along the French Riviera

2011-06-27T08:11:00.000-07:00

Waiting for my train in Nice for Villefranche, along with two SNCF workers, the guide's bags stacked on the platform and ready for an action-packed walking adventure along the French Riviera.

Below three curious Kiwis in my group examine a kiwi on ice skates, on St. Jean Cap Ferrat, set just beside our base in Villefranche sur Mer.

Leaving our hotel in Villefranche sur Mer, along the ancient and cobbled streets. Despite being in the heart of the glitzy and overpopulated Riviera, Villefranche has seemed to escape the new era along the coastline, still clinging to its old-world charm of an authentic fishing port. During mornings or evenings, after the cruiseships have departed, the town feels almost like home.

The morning market in Menton on Tuesday, a glimpse of a buyer's basket of fresh fruit and vegetables...

As the crow flies, we are just 3km from the Sea, departing from the village of Sainte Agnès. But we are now at 600m in altitude, with fresh almost-mountain air, and the fast moving clouds providing intermittent cover. A totally different landscape and ambiance than along the coastline... We walk along ancient cobbled paths, through the Spanish broom and wildflowers, towards the village of...

...Gorbio

The village of Gorbio, itself just a stone's throw from the Riviera, sits perched on a rocky crag at 300m above sea level. Its timeless limestone houses are bunched together in various states of renovation and disrepair, but none of it tainted by the spoils of the Riviera below. The tiny streets pass under stone arches and curve around the central church, devoid of tourist shops and restaurants.

It is not planned for, but we spend two hours visiting the village, walking along every one of its streets, enjoying the contrast from the busy coastline.

In Gorbio:

More of Gorbio:

The second half of our journey centres around the town of Aix en Provence, where Cézanne tirelessly painted his Sainte Victoire mountain. Below the evening sun highlights the buildings surrounding a bistro-clad square in the centre of town:

The next day's picnic at the foot of the Sainte Victoire mountain is prepared by the group. Each picked a picnic item from the hat, collected at the market in Aix. What I imagined to be a fun way to assemble a picnic becomes a feast! Thanks for the great food guys!

Vivienne and her mother Berice, at the foot of the Sainte Victoire mountain. I have to say that Berice was an inspiration to all in the group, proving that even at 78 you can still be too young and adventurous for a bus tour or a cruise (this is a hint to you Mom and Dad!)

Our last walk set atop the Alpilles mountains, Judith and Trevor looking out towards a never-ending valley of olive groves and vines, and perhaps a glimpse of the Mediterranean Sea?

We are lucky enough to have two guides this day: below my colleague Gustav sets the course to storm the castle of Les Baux de Provence, set in the upper-left of the picture.

A group marvelling at the 14th century cathedral in Arles, our final stop of the tour:

Thanks to Vivienne, Maggie, Trevor, Judith, Berice, and Robyn for a fantastic week of walking and indulgence in Provence

Singing and walking in the rain...

2011-06-08T02:04:00.000-07:00

A week with Peregrine Adventures along the French Riviera: below on the peninsula of St. Jean Cap Ferrat, which would prove to be the only sunny day of the week. Upon careful observation you'll notice that not all my guests are Aussie this week...

Our second walk, Denis is perched above the village of Ste. Agnès, and at 750m it's "Europe's highest coastal village".

A bit of a misnomer, no?

Through the covered passageways of Ste. Agnès, as the crow flies only 3km from the sea, but an altogether different ambiance...

Leaving Ste. Agnès, the rocky path made somewhat slippery from the rains:

It's sunny by lunchtime and the umbrella doubles as a parasol, as seen in Frances' elegant display:

Pizza night!!!

A visit in Nice. Below is the Place Massena, recently renovated, and in stark contrast to the narrow streets of the old town.

At lunchtime in Nice, Ainslie the Kiwi displays a bit of affection for her "sister", an ornament on the table, and whose edible version would prove to be on the menu ...

On Thursday, I convince everybody, including the penguin below, to complete the planned walk at the foot of the Ste. Victoire mountain, dispite the weather, saying that it would probably clear. But is doesn't: it would rain on us for all three hours of the walk. Is this really Provence?

Under the Provençal rains. It has to be said though, that after the hot and sunny months of April and May, the rains were badly needed.

On Friday, more rain. We move to plan "B": a discovery tour of the town of St. Rémy de Provence. The rains continue, and throw a blurry veil over the lavender fields behind Van Gogh's hospital, almost as if he had painted them hismself.

On Saturday in Arles. More rain!! Aargh!

Walking with Peregrine Adventures: a hot week in the Luberon

2011-06-06T07:39:00.000-07:00

I guided the following walking holiday for Peregrine Adventures: 3 days in the Luberon mountains and 3 days around Vaison la Romaine, just north of Mont Ventoux.

Our journey begins in the village of Bonnieux, nestled in the heart of the Luberon mountains. The spring has already been one of the hottest ever recorded and today is no exception: it's still the month of May but the temperatures are that of the middle of the summer, in the mid 30s.

We seek refuge in a "borie" for lunch: a centuries-old dry stone hut used to house tools and for shelter. The thick limestone walls keep the inside cool in the summer, and we stay at length to escape the midday heat.

After two years of walking through all kinds of terrain, and under 200 pounds of constant pressure, my sandals finally give way, ripping in three places at once. A good laugh is had at the expense of the guide (though laughing with, and not at me), who in this case sets a poor example for footwear...

I provide entertainment but also accept pity: Pierre takes out some electrical tape from his bag

and I wrap the sandal back together. It would hold about an hour, and I would spend the next two weeks walking in them...

The May poppies along an old stone wall, just outside the town of Buoux (pronounced "Pukes", but with a B -- that way you don't forget).

No sandals needed in here! At the end of the first day's walk we arrive at the Auberge des Seguins, hidden in the far depths of the Luberon, for a 3-night stay. The pool is only 18° or so, but after a hot day in the Provençal sun, the cold waters are more than soothing.

On Tuesday the temperature climbs again. We begin our walk in the town of Gordes, listed as one of the "most beautiful villages in France".

Though the village itself is busy with shops and tourists -- Gordes has become a victim of its beauty and popularity -- we approach it from afar, through its ancient, quiet, and timeless cobbled streets. And once we leave town by foot, along its stony paths and toward the famed 12th century Sénanque Abbey, we don't see a soul. A total absense of people. And this can be explained in two ways: 1) few travellers venture far from the heart of this village, or any other Provençal village for that matter, which is why it's so important to stray from the well-trodden tourist path. And 2) it's hot enough to stay inside, lay naked on a ceramic tiled floor, and with all the fans on full-blast, or air-conditioning if you're lucky to have it...

But my hearty group of Aussies (and Ainslie the Kiwi), used to the heat (except maybe for Ainslie the Kiwi), is ready to take on all challenges....

Bernie takin' it easy at the town square in Gordes:

And Wednesday is even hotter. We leave the auberge early, and climbing up the Luberon mountains we get a soothing breeze, the northeren Mistral winds that make an untolerably hot day somewhat tolerable.

Ainslie the Kiwi seeks midday shade after lunch:

Back at the auberge, lounging by the pool, and slipping in and out of a sieste, a butterfly lands on my shoulder. Then my knee, then on my head, then on my back. It flutters off to a nearby tree and promptly returns with a friend, and both dance circles around each other and around me, taking breaks to land on my body, and this for about 15 minutes (I'm easily amused on my long and lonely guiding expeditions...)

We begin Thursday with an unplanned visit to the village of Lacoste, perched in the Luberon. It must be said that my spontaneous decision to stop here was spurred by sadism. The Marquis de Sade, that is. Three days previous, driving to the start of our first walk, I had pointed out the town of Lacoste, mentioning the ruins of Sade's castle. Much interest ensued: talks of whips and beatings and of "40 days of Sodom", one of Sade's works I recommended -- in jest of course.

Sade's castle, overhanging a labyrinth of cobbled streets in the old village. I highly recommend visiting Lacoste: off the beaten tourist path, and a magical collection of village homes packed in tight quarters, winding up to the castle.

In Lacoste:

We arrive in Vaison la Romaine after a short walk, and at dinner on a terrace we enjoy a spectacular sunset:

On Friday morning Pierre and Catherine prepare for their ascension of Mont Ventoux. It's not planned on the Peregrine itinerary: today is actually a day off to explore the town and take a break from walking. But why stay in town when you can climb Provence's highest mountain, and in the bad weather!?

The accumulation of heat over the week is often a build-up for the rains, and today is no exception. The air is cool at our starting point, at the sort-of-ski-resort of Mont Serein. At 1400m the temperature is 11°C, a drop of more than 20 degrees from yesterday's walk.

Pierre looking down Ventoux's northern slope, as the clouds become more ominous:

The last 45 minutes of the climb are through the scree, under the rains and Ventoux's ever-present winds.

At the summit, now 8°C in the rains and in the strong winds, we seek refuge in the chapelle Sainte Croix for lunch. In the photo below, after an emotional climb, Janice is relieved to escape the harsh winds at the summit.

In the evening I organise a wine and cheese dinner, where we enjoy some of the region's best wines and stinkiest (and therefore best) cheeses. We are to have a reading this evening: unbeknownst to me, keen after a visit to Lacoste and after much discussion and laughter, Pierre found and downloaded --on his "Kindle" -- the aforementioned work of the Marquis de Sade. The actual title turned out to be 120 days of Sodom, not the "40 days" I had previously evoked. This made Pierre's search for the work more difficult, but he found it nonetheless. But what he found he deemed unsuitable for any audience, not one of the 120 days acceptable to share aloud, and so Pierre left it to our discretion, and in our own free time, to read the Marquis' work.

At breakfast, an Aussie is caught (not mentioning any names, Bernie) with a tube of Vegemite, which according to most Australians tastes good, and cures several ailments, including some forms of cancer.

Our last walk, on Saturday, begins in the town of Séguret, surprisingly quiet. We take advantage of this, exploring the town at length and at a slow pace.

Pierre and his almost-beret admiring the old clocktower:

And Catherine admiring a sea of vines: the Rhône Valley.

A group photo at the crest of the Luberon, on the rounded pastures parched by the sun, fresh even after a 500m climb. Thanks to Pierre, Catherine, Ainslie, Roz, Bernie, and Janice for a wonderful week...

For Peregrine Adventures: when the group is faster than their guide...

2011-05-16T05:08:00.000-07:00

It all started with a wait for one of my guests in the border town of Ventimilia, in Italy. Unlike the French towns set within a stone's throw along the coast -- such as Menton, Nice, and Monaco -- Ventimilia is unassuming, devoid of the glitz of the French Riviera.

I had always known Ventimilia through its tourist stores and restaurants close to the train station. This time however, with more time to spare, I strolled through the newly cobbled streets of the old centre, the delapidated façades of buildings exposing the uneven patchwork of bricks behind. A labyrinth of archways and narrow lanes, children playing, clothes drying on lines outside the modest homes, all seemingly timeless.

False advertising in Ventimilia:

Once back in France, settled into our hotel in the town of Villefranche sur Mer, we took the time to explore, here looking outwards from the "Rue Obscure". Villefranche is much more manageable in size than its neighbouring Nice, a population of 6000 huddled in the protected cove on the Mediterranean Sea. That same protected cove attracts cruiseships the size of the city itself, about one or two of them a day during the tourist season. But by nifghtfall the ships have left and the town remains quiet.

Our first walk took us around the ultra-chic peninsula of St. Jean Cap Ferrat. Here Judy watches as a cruiseship arrives in the bay. I knew things would be different than usual: my guests were walking faster than me, charging up and down the steps carved along the coastline. This all seemed too easy for them. And so we set off for a little "side-loop", adding a few kilometers, and from that day forward none of the walks would be as planned...

The following day I thought I'd challenge the group, and so I took them on a 400m ascent starting from sea to the perched village of Eze. But it was still too easy.

The ancient cobbled path zigzags up the slope, the same path up which Nietzsche walked during his many trips to the Riviera. For Nietzsche, the exercise helped him in his thinking. But for me, even with thousands of hours of guiding in my legs, I can't really say I'm all the smarter...

Arriving below the fortified village of Eze, perched like an eagle's nest high above the sea. On the climb up to the village we saw no one, before bracing ourselves for the busloads of tourists walking through the village itself.

In the village of Eze:

Sally's attempt to hide behind a bay tree:

Descending back towards the sea, among valerian and Spanish broom, we would see two young women dressed in flipflops and sundresses, making their way up the path. And so ensued the second of two misunderstandings between the Aussie guests and their Canadian guide: Aussie says: "Did you see the girls in their silver thongs?". Canadian guide, flustered and perplexed that he wasn't the first to observe this, had misunderstood "thongs" as something altogether different than footwear...

At our hotel in Villefranche, having a pizza night. Excellent pizza.

After two walking days we had a day to "stroll" through the streets of Nice, below at the famed market in the Cours Saleya. We ate salads overlooking the town on the perch that once held the castle, as I listened intently to a schoolteacher describe the panorama and history of Nice to his students (I did a simultaneous translation for my Aussies)...

After Nice I slept for most of the taxi transfer to Aix en Provence, before we settled into our hotel for the next two nights. Below is one of the many famed fountains in the town centre.

Aussies and Canadians share the same queen but manage to speak with different tongues. On the very first day I wondered why Sally was asking about the spice needed in our bags, when in actual fact she was referring to "space", only with her "accent". We had a good chuckle over this slight misunderstanding, and the joke remained over the course of the week.

Since the Aussies do indeed live upside-down, many of their behaviours are also backwards. Take Sally for example, wearing her "frontpack" along the trails. This behaviour enables the Aussie species to eat the contents of their packs without stopping, as seen in the photo below...

Ok, so the first two walks were too easy. The only thing left to do is to climb up to...

... the summit of the Sainte Victoire mountain, seen above-right in the photo below. Ae we nuts?

As we climb the views get better, and the cool breeze soothes the efforts of a three-hour ascent:

Judy and Sally grew up on a sheep farm, but prove to be veritable mountain goats up the cragged path towards the summit. The cross, seen in the picture below, stands at 946m in altitude, offering the group a breathtaking panorama of Provence.

Walking along the crest of the Alpilles mountains the next day, our last walk of the holiday:

Sally's famed "frontpack" angled toward the medieval perched village of Les Baux de Provence, where we would finish the day's walk:

A group photo taken just below the village of Eze. A big thanks to Rosemary, Bill, Sally and Judy for a fantastic week in Provence.

Mont Ventoux guided walking...

2011-04-30T00:59:00.000-07:00

Walk Inn's inaugural Mont Ventoux walking trip begins in the village of Séguret, listed as one of the most beautiful villages in France. We stroll through the ancient cobbled streets before...

... following ancient tracks wedged between the vineyards and olive groves. The paths are green with spring growth and the temperatures are ideal for walking.

After a night in a hotel hidden in the vines, our second day's walk takes us high above the vineyards, through the Dentelles de Montmirail mountain range. The vine-clad terraces rise until the slopes are almost vertical, while the summit of Mont Ventoux looms in the distance.

The dark and rumbling skies above the village of Gigondas give us warning, but we continue onwards. Before we reach our hotel the skies open, and within moments we're soaked to the bone, experiencing a typically fierce but brief Mediterranean storm...

Roger, his first time in France, making up for lost time during a picnic break:

Our third walk proves to be te toughest, around the foothills of Mont Ventoux, but smiles still paint our faces:

For our fourth walk we change the itinerary: the group is keen to climb to the summit of Ventoux, atop the roof of Provence. Here the vegetation changes from Mediterranean to Alpine, the young cones of a larch tree below:

The impressive slopes of Ventoux along the bare rock... the haze prevents views extending to the Alps on this day, but the landscapes are breathtaking nonetheless:

Among the mountain pine, larch, spruce and fir, Barbara and Roger spot some birds above our path. Barbara is a keen birder, donating her time to a bird rescue centre in the U.S.

Near the summit we encounter a patch of snow, still fending off the rising temperatures of Spring. Ross and Sheena from Australia bask in the novelty, while the couple from Chicago remains unimpressed.

We stage a video here which I've kindly left out of the blog, for the sake of all families involved, but more or less goes as follows:
Man from Chicago gives Aussie a small pocketknife, and Aussie responds: "You call that a knife?"
Aussie then gives man from Chicago a snowball, and man from Chicago responds: "You call that snow?"

The final few paces to the summit of Ventoux, above the trees, finishing a spectacular zigzagging path leading to the top:

An afternoon initiation of the game of pétanque; note the concentration in Barbara's face as she strives mercilessly to destroy the competition (which she does).

With four days of walking in our legs, the last walk feels almost like a Sunday stroll, through the thyme-laden hills above the village of Suzette.

Our final destination is Vaison la Romaine, where we stay in the heart of the medieval village:

The five of us a day before, at the summit of Mont Ventoux, overlooking all of Provence and happy to enjoy a week of walking together...

To learn more about this holiday, visit our website:
www.walkinnprovence.com

First group of the year!!!

2011-04-23T11:51:00.000-07:00

Me and my first group beneath the haunting ruins of castle of the Marquis de Sade, crowning the village of Lacoste.

Cherry blossoms in April...

2011-04-08T07:37:00.000-07:00

Just outside the picturesque village of Vénasque, in the heart of Provence, the cherry orchards are in full blossom; and with the evening's last rays of sun we stop to bask in their sweet perfume...

February in Mont Ventoux

2011-02-16T02:10:00.000-08:00

In the plains the temperature has been hovering close to 20°c for a week, the almond trees are in flower, an early spring has hit Provence. And so I decided to climb up to mont Ventoux to put the final touches on the self-guided walking holiday that Walk Inn now offers in Provence's highest mountain. What I didn't expect was about 30cm of snow, fallen just the day before...

Overlooking the Baronnies mountains to the north, on the freshly fallen snow:

A sprinkling of new snow on the mountain pines leading towards the summit:

For more information about our self-guided holiday in Mont Ventoux, check out our website:

Ventoux: hiking on the roof of Provence

Near the roof of Provence...

2011-01-27T06:51:00.000-08:00

A gorgeous winter's day brought me to Mont Ventoux on a reconnaissance walk, putting together a self-guided holiday on the roof of Provence. The photo below is was taken from Mont Serein, at the end of the walk, with the last rays of sun highlighting the bare summit.

There hasn't been snow here for a while, and the last of it is quickly melting away...

From Mont Serein, at 1400m, on a clear winter's day such as this one, the entire chain of the Alps is visible.

I began my walk at 700m in altitude, on a logging road through the pine forest. The pines in the photo below are Austrian black pines, planted 150 years ago during reforestation.

The mornings are crisp up in altitude. Fearing a cold day I brought not only my gore-tex jacket but also a down jacket, stuffed into my backpack. I didn't wear either, sticking with a simple polar fleece all day...

Nearing the end of the walk, approaching the "ski resort" of Mont Serein, some patches of leftover snow still carpeting the slopes:

In the beech forest, one of the very few specimens that survived the intense deforestation of Ventoux over the centuries. Only a few dozen of these "relic" trees continue to grace the slopes:

Nearing Mont Serein, cutting it close with the setting sun:

Moi!

What a wonderful walk, on a beautiful winter's day: didn't cross a soul over 5 hours of walking, crisp mountain air, gorgeous views, and the ever-present Provençal sun. And they pay me for this?

from Malaucène to Vaison la Romaine

2011-01-14T02:31:00.000-08:00

It doesn't feel much like winter. With temperatures flirting with 20°C, a slight Mistral headwind, and a beautiful Provençal sun, I set out from the town of Malaucène for an 18km walk to Vaison la Romaine. This stage marks the final walk of Walk Inn's weeklong self-guided tour of Mont Ventoux and the Dentelles de Montmirail. Speaking of the latter, the tooth-like limestone chains of the Dentelles are clearly visible in the photo below, with the tiny village of Suzette (and its population of 99) also visible here:

From the highest point of the walk, at the Pas du Loup, in the heart of the wild garrigue (shrub land of aromatic herbs, boxwood, and sparse aleppo pines and evergreen oak). The limestone breach provided shelter from the Mistral wind as I faced south and bathed in the sun, and ate my not-so-Provençal peanut butter and jelly sandwich...

About two thirds of the way through the walk the hamlet of Le Crestet appears, a tiny cluster of limestone buildings and cobbled streets set on a high perch, overlooking the valley below. Normally the "Panoramic" bar here provides a wonderful ice cream and coffee break, complete with one of the best views in Provence, but hélas, it's winter, and the bar is closed...

Le Crestet, through the branches of a truffle oak:

Mont Ventoux looms in the distance, and only tiny dots of snow seem to grace the north face of the mountain today (the white at the top is bare limestone, not snow). Quel dommage for the ski resort up there...

Reaching Vaison from behind, the silhouette of its medieval castle protecting the town:

In the heart of Vaison, the cathedral and the setting sun:

From Buoux to Lourmarin

2011-01-11T01:23:00.000-08:00

Today's reconnaissance walk took me into the heart of the Luberon Mountains, starting from the Seguins hotel in Buoux. The clouds remained low, sweeping through the hills, a rarity here, giving these Mediterranean mountains more of an alpine feel.

Not yet written in our arsenal of hikes through the Luberon, today's walk will be used for a custom-made walking holiday for a group that contacted us through the wabsite.

And as usual, during my winter walks, I have the hills to myself. These past few days have been mild, temperatures in the high teens (celcius!), a real pleasure to walk.

The tracks crisscross along the crest, a mix of forestry roads and walking paths leading every which way through the Luberon. A truffle oak is in the foreground of the picture but I didn't check whether it was harbouring a winter truffle (no dog or pig at my disposal!).

The town of Lourmarin, and the fading sun above its church, weaving through the low-lying clouds...

A winter's walk (I don't care if it's still not really winter) in Ventoux

2010-12-02T00:51:00.000-08:00

Today's walk took me from the tiny village of Le Barroux to Malaucène, through the foothills of Mont Ventoux. Walk Inn's roadbook got a bit of updating today, ensuring the paths and waymarks are a perfect match to the information provided in the written notes.

It had rained all morning, but by mid-afternoon the sun made a brief appearance. And at only 600m in altitude I was high above the clouds, staying low and carpeting the valley.

A view of the Dentelles range to the west, a set of cragged limestone teeth peAking and peEking above the cloud...

Nearing the end of the hike, the town of Malaucène comes into view, and about time: I was running out of daylight..

And the sun sets on the Rhône Valley, the cloud covering all but the 12th century castle atop the town of Le Barroux, where I began the day's hike...

To learn more about our self-guided walking trip at the foot of Ventoux: http://www.walkinnprovence.com/ang/walking-product-D0.html

Winter (not quite yet) in the Alpilles

2010-11-25T01:39:00.000-08:00

The winter blues are somewhat soothed by the reconnaissance walks I do in the hills. The cool and crisp weather brings great lighting for photos, better visibility than any other time of year... Below are the ruins of the castle of Les Baux, a photo taken from the hotel Mas d'Aigret, Walk Inn's base in the Alpilles.

Also taken from the hotel, perched above the famed olive groves, their silvery leaves shining in the winter sun (well, not quite winter yet, but it sure feels like it).

A shot taken from the Alpilles, looking toward the plains to the north, and towards the first snowfall on the summit of Mont Ventoux...

And now looking to the south, the vast plains of the Camargue park leading to the Mediterranean Sea...

To learn more about Walk Inn's tours in the Alpilles mountains, check out the holidays below:

walking: http://www.walkinnprovence.com/ang/walking-product-A0.html

cycling: http://www.walkinnprovence.com/ang/cycling-product-A0B.html

4 Yanks and 4 Aussies in Provence ...

2010-10-25T06:34:00.001-07:00

Bittersweet: the last walking tour of the season for me, before a long winter hibernation behind the desks of Walk Inn (would anyone like to sign up for a winter tour, PLEASE!!??).

With the Mistral winds howling we set off from our hotel in Gigondas and into the Dentelles de Montmirail mountains, a landscape painted with terraced vineyards and jagged limestone cliffs. Renée, below, examines the scene with a "purposeful purse-full" of baguette...

On our first day of walking we stop at Château Redortier for a winetasting -- the harvest nearly complete, the last bins of grapes returning to the estate, and the air smelling of roasted pine needles and fermenting grapes:

One of the full-bodied reds we tried at the estate:

Back at our hotel les Florets, the late afternoon sun highlighting the terrace. We would stay here two nights, enjoying fabulous meals and a sumptuous setting:

http://www.hotel-lesflorets.com/gb.html

The rooftops of the village of Gigondas, its homes squeezed tightly together within broken ramparts, the Roman tiles glistening in the sun:

One of the many disadvantages of the Mistral winds is losing belongings in the gusts, like my walking map below, fallen into the Carpentras Canal during the second day of walking. Allen and I chase down the map...

And dry it in the sun. Thanks Allen!

The Romanesque tower of Notre Dame d'Aubune chapel, just outside the town of Beaumes de Venise. It's more Italian than French in style, complete with intricate carvings and decor.

strange clouds in the afteroon, dancing in the Mistral winds:

Near the end of the second walk, overlooking the Auberge des Seguins, our place of stay for the next two nights, lost in the heart of the Luberon mountains:

http://aubergedesseguins.com/

The Auberge is a 17th century goat farm, converted in the 1950s into a hotel. Here we admire Renée's little house, nestled among the other stone buildings:

Near the end of our first walk from the Auberge des Seguins, at the Fort de Buoux, negotiating 3000 year-old steps, vertiginous but exhilirating:

Caught mid-air: Danielle shows off her pétanque skills back at the Auberge, her boule heading towards the cochonet (the jack). One of the techniques of better pétanque play, as seen to the right of the picture, is to counterbalance the weight of the boule with a glass of wine in the opposite hand:

The Auberge at night, taken from outside by room. Otherwordly: a backdrop of steep cliffs and night stars...

The morning of our fourth walk, leaving the Auberge, and an unusually early frost covering the ground. The Mistral swept skies offer wonderful lighting for pictures, breathtaking views, but a definite chill!

Up to the high ridges of the Luberon, the thyme-laden hills soft and rounded, with views of the high Alps and the Mediterranean Sea... (well, we saw them, not you!)

Some action on the ridge: when we reach the top we see a hunter chase down the boar and fire two shots. The season started a month ago, and this is the 20th boar (about 60kg here) this particular hunting group has killed:

A sprig of thyme in the mounth replacing the traditional apple:

I would become vegetarian for the evening, eating only a salad for dinner, but I'd come back to my senses 24 hours later...

Allen overlooks the Durance valley and the southern slope of the Luberon. Here we enjoy warmth and sunlight, pausing at length to soak in the rays and the views:

The nine of us: 4 Aussies, 4 Yanks, and a Franco-Canuck. I've rarely seen a group gel as well as we would this week, sharing days and evenings of laughter and friendship. As a guide, these wonderful weeks offer just a touch of sadness, knowing that after a week's time it comes to an abrupt end... (how about walking next year guys?)

Roman monuments in Saint Rémy de Provence, after our two days in the Luberon mountains:

A walk in the Alpilles Mountains above Saint Rémy (why did I do this one in black and white?)

Danielle overlooks the plains from the ridge of the Alpilles Mountains, stretching toward the Mediterranean:

Our last night is spent in Arles, and fortunately this time there's no bullfight (the hotels weren't sold out!). Allen's photos and videos provide the pre-dinner entertainment before a last meal shared in town...

to learn more about the day-by-day of the adventure:

http://walkinnprovence.com/ang/walking-product-WDLA0.html

Epilogue

After being dropped off in Avignon I head to the foot of Mont Ventoux, Provence's highest mountain, for a date with my ascension by bike. I did it last for my 30th birthday, and this marks exactly 5 years later. I start this time from below the village of Sault, 700m in altitude, offering the easiest of the three climbs to the top.

The clouds are dark and the weather crisp, the streets lined with maples and other deciduous trees not found in the plains. The first section -- about 19 km -- rises relatively gradually to the ski "resort" of Chalet Reynard at 1400m in altitude. I would see no other cyclists on this section, nor on this same section on the way back down.

From Chalet Reynard the road steepens, some sections above 10%. This is part of the traditional climb to the summit used in the Tour de France. The rains pick up and the winds drive them sideways, and visibility is zero. By the time I hit the steepest slopes my legs rotate in slowmotion, at some sections almost at a standstill (it doesn't help that my granny-gear won't slip into place).

About 2 hrs and 30 mins from Sault I reach the summit, my hands so cold I'm barely able to take my camera out for this shot. It's freezing at the summit with incessant rains and heavy winds. On the way down, having forgotten my gloves, my hands freeze and I can't brake properly. They start to sting with the cold and I can sense frostbite setting in.

6km below the summit, I rush into the Chalet and get a pair of yellow, rubber kitchen gloves from the staff for the rest of the descent, with my body shaking in the cold and in the rain.

This guide was poorly equipped, and was given a well-deserved talking-to by the staff at the chalet.

On this day 5 years ago, it was sunny and warm at the summit, the entire chain of the Alps stretching out in the backdrop.

So we'll see what Ventoux has in store for my 40th birthday...

a week with Neil and Helen...

2010-10-10T09:43:00.000-07:00

Helen and Neil from Australia: A guided walking tour of Provence, almost à la carte.

And both manage a smile below, despite finishing a 400m climb to the perched village of Eze, high above the Côte d'Azur. Based in the small riviera town of Villefranche sur Mer, we would spend half the week exploring the coastline villages and paths. We are on the Nietzsche path here, a path the philosopher used to take on his many trips to the riviera.

From the top of the village of Eze, in a cactus garden, overlooking the Riviera. And yes, we climbed starting at sea-level, all the way down there!!!

The peninsula in the background -- the one behind the leftmost flowering cactus -- is called St. Jean Cap Ferrat. It was our warm-up walk the day before: 11km around the peninsula on a coastal path surrounded by lavish homes.

Some of the hilltop homes of Eze, perched like an eagle's nest over the Mediterranean Sea:

Eze village, below which, hidden from the tourists that crowd the village (and there were many!!!), we find a secluded spot to eat our picnic lunch:

In the afternoon we hop on the coastal train and only 10 minutes later reach Monaco. Not planned in the itinerary, Helen and Neil wanted to visit this independent state, where escalators are as prevalent in the city streets as in shopping malls and casinos:

Only 2 square kilometers of land for only one country. And so what can't be built in sprawl needs to be built in piles: piles of appartment buildings as tightly packed as puzzle pieces, turning to seek the sea as a field of sunflowers seeks the sun.

The next day we head on the coastline train to the east. And which Riviera town is Helen closest to in the photo below? You'll never guess. It's a pristine island with hardly a building in sight, 8km of beautiful shores and walking paths where we cross few travellers.

Haven't guessed yet? It's Cannes. Just a kilometre off the shore, on the island of Sainte Marguerite. No Louis Vuitton here, no film festival, just a set of tracks lined with eucalyptus and pine, tiny idyllic coves offering hours of quiet contemplation...

Speaking of tiny idyllic coves offering hours of quiet contemplation:

In the afternoon we reach Nice: its shops, markets, streets bustling with people, its cafés filled with blondes holding dogs and listening to honky-tonk bands...

Enough of Nice. We needed some countryside in the heart of Provence, far from the crowds. And no better place than based in the Auberge des Seguins, lost in the Luberon mountains, a centuries-old goat farm restored magnificently into a hotel. As a base for two nights, we would explore the forgotten hamlets and paths, passing beside truffle-oak plantations and cherry orchards...

Helen and Neil inside their bedroom, once a shelter for the flocks...

The auberge in the evening (how's my tripod shot?), my room the closest in the picture, and in the background a cliff that attracts amateur rock climbers from all over the world.

Speaking of amateur rock climbers:

Though we're by no means rock climbers, we still manage to attack a set of vertiginous limestone steps, 3000 years old, in the Buoux fort (steep drops to the left of the picture). And a round of applause for Helen, not a fan of heights, who manages to surpass herself, leaving her comfort zone without shouting explitives at the guide or at her husband.

After two days we leave the auberge behind and cross into the Petit Luberon, with southern winds hinting at the possibility of rain (which hold off all week!!!)

The town of Bonnieux, set above the Calavon plains, one of the towns in Peter Mayle's A Year in Provence.

The tightly packed homes of Bonnieux, and Mont Ventoux in the far background, above the church spire.

In Bonnieux, after finishing the last walk. Usually it's a bad sign to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but in this case it leads Neil into the cobbled streets of town, alive and well, extatic after a wonderful week along the trails of Provence.

A message from Neil and Helen: "From our arrival at the very hospitable and funky Hotel Welcome at Villefranche sur Mer we knew this would be a memorable week. The beautiful harbour with its cruise ships and relaxed feel is a far cry from the hustle and bustle of Nice. The three days spent on the Mediterranean coast provided varied perspectives of landscapes and lifestyles, stunning views from 400m+ to seaside walks with waves crashing against the rocks. Our days spent inland in the stunning Luberon gave us breathtaking scenery amongst a variety of dramatic contrasts from sheer rock walls to truffle farms.

Stuart, our guide, did everything he could to make this an exceptional experience ensuring that he catered for our specific needs. The food was amazing, making use of the fresh local produce available wherever possible. We enjoyed a wonderful variety of meals from cafes to gourmet feasts and scrumptious picnic lunches. Stuart's vast knowledge of the area, its history and the food gave us a greater insight to Provence than we could possibly have found otherwise. We will most certainly be recommending this trip to others and would have no hesitation in doing another Walkinn tour. In short, a fantastic week!"

Thanks for a great week Neil and Helen!!!

Interested in the tour?

Well here it is!!! http://walkinnprovence.com/ang/walking-product-WZL0.html

Canadians in Provence

2010-09-12T14:14:00.001-07:00

It's Sunday afternoon in Avignon; knowing that I have 8 fellow Canadians in my group, I attempt the practical joke of I-don't-speak-English -- and with a very thick French accent -- something I promised myself to keep up all evening. It lasts about 5 minutes. I blow my cover, letting the group know they've crossed an ocean only to find one of their own to lead them through the hills of Provence.

Here we are, a Canadian invasion of Provence, ready to attack the toughest of trails:

But equally important is the food. Our first place of stay is hidden deep in the limestone mountains in the town of Gigondas, surrounded by a sea of reputed vines. Below is my dessert on the first evening, as much a work of art as a dish: a mango whatchamacallit-something-or-other (I wasn't listening to the waiter when served, my attention focused on the plate...)

Walking day 1: I suppose we have to walk off the great foods, and earn our evening's feast to come. And so we climb into the vineyards behind the hotel, admiring views of Mont Ventoux and the vines of Gigondas. Everyone in the group has quite a bit of hiking experience, and so I lead them on a lesser-known side trail, climbing high above the Rhône valley, with outstanding panoramas:

Our lunch:

...followed by a snooze: teach us Ronn, master of snoozes:

After our walk we return to the village of Gigondas for wine tasting in the main square:

And then dinner: a marriage of foie-gras and melon in various forms, a picture that doesn't really work out but a dish that's absolutely fabulous...

Walking day 2: actually, let's rewind a few hours, into the night, providing a never-ending grumbling of thunder and heavy rains. The first rains of the season: in some towns of the region over 30cm would flow through the streets during the day, causing some major flooding.

I have never missed a day of hiking in my 5 years of guiding, and today would be no exception, makeshift raingear and all:

The parched tracks, after 2 months of dryness, all of the sudden become muddy with the rains, and provide some slipping and sliding along the way:

But the sun returns quickly, highlighting the bunches of ripe grapes ready to be picked:

In the afternoon we are transferred to the town of Buoux (for pronunciation, remember the golden rule: "pukes" with a "B"). After visiting a truffle oak plantation we head down a centuries-old mule track towards the base of a canyon...

...to here: the Auberge des Seguins, a 17th century goat farm, restored with taste, modern yet faithful to its rustic beginnings. Though we're in the middle of nowhere, in the heart of the Luberon mountains, in a stone-built hamlet with a night full of stars and the sound of the waters, Ipads and Blackberries are removed from their holsters (I should think about confiscating all those toys...)

...except maybe dice. Yes, for all those in mergers and acquisitions, the plural of die is dice!!! (inside joke)

Here's the Auberge des Seguins in the morning, without a doubt my favourite place to stay in Provence. Thanks to Amélie and her great team for making us feel so welcome.

Walking day 3: after following the Aiguebrun gorge we climb to the lost hamlet of Sivergues. Population: 40.

And one dog named Chopin:

Our morning break is taken at the Castellas goat farm, where I fail in negotiating some goat cheese for the group for lunch, but succeed in getting us some coffee.

From the ridge of the Luberon moutains the view of Mont Ventoux is clear and inviting. How about next year? (was the pitch good on that one, Ronn?)

Descending back to the Auberge des Seguins we visit the Buoux Fort, 3000 years old, filled with protective walls, drawbridges, silos, vertiginous cliffs,

...and the secret steps as an escape route. Here John negotiates the steps with ease:

Walking day 4: we head back up the ridge of the Luberon, with outstanding views, including the Mediterranean to the south and the Alps to the east.

Snooze-master up to his old tricks after lunch...

...before a long descent on the south face of the Luberon, through the thyme-laden hills, and down to the village of Vaugines.

Café in Vaugines: closed. No beer. Fail

Walking day 5: in Saint Rémy de Provence, set among the landscapes immortalized by Van Gogh, we head into the Alpilles mountains for a morning walk...

Things get serious in the evening, when pastis is mixed with a game of pétanque:

The game is picked up quickly by the competitive Canucks, realizing the similarities in scoring and in strategy to their sacred game of curling:

Setting up the line, asking for an in-turn draw to the button. The line is good. HURRY!! HARD!!

The evening ended in a singalong at the hotel led by John, where food was eaten, where Canadiana was sung, where wine flowed, and where we were asked by the hotel management to keep it down.

Question: how do you get 9 Canadians to keep it down?

Answer: you say: "hey, Canadians, keep it down".

Works like a charm.

Walking day 6: back up to the ridge of the Alpilles mountains, under a canopy of pines, before an exquisite path along the top of the mountain, with 360° views...

On the ridge, at our lunch spot:

And in the evening, after 6 days of walking in our legs, a visit of the town of Arles, all dressed up for its bull fight:

Some thoughts from John:
"Our one week of rambling in Provence in 2010 proved to be a delight. Exquisite French cuisine, beautiful landscapes, and new friends. Stuart led us with humour, and encyclopedic knowledge of the pathways, vegetation and history of the area."

Walk Inn's inaugural bike tour!!!

2010-09-04T08:20:00.000-07:00

More often than not, when Mont Ventoux is as clear as you see it in the photo below -- taken from Avignon -- it means the Mistral winds are howling. And this time is no exception.

Cycling Day 1: Teresa from California and Nikki from Australia, two friends who booked their cycling trip together, made up the smallest group I've ever guided. Together we set out from Avignon by bike, battling a fierce headwind into the Provençal countryside.

By the time we hit Tavel -- a town famous for its rosé, the winds are hitting us from the side, providing the beautiful blue Provençal sky but less than stellar cycling conditions. To console ourselves we carry a bottle of prized-winning Tavel up to the picnic spot where we enjoy...

...way too much food. And after years of doing this I still never learn. Lunch for 3 resembles a feast for ten. But we take our time, listen to the rave music emanating from somewhere in the nearby hills, and somewhat synchronized with the chants of the remaining few cicadas singing their last hoorahs from the branches of pine trees.

The last few kilometers to Uzes along a plane-tree lined boulevard, ending a 50km day of pedaling...

The centre of Uzes, its narrow, cobbled streets lined with centuries-old, and noble grey stone homes. Though an extraordinary town, Uzès is cleaned and restored to a state of perfection that seems almost unnatural, as if each house had just been recently built, as if the town itself was a museum... but I suppose it's better to have THAT extreme than its opposite...

Our hotel: Le général d'Entraigues, a magnificent 17th century building in the heart of the old town, its swimming pool on a terrace overlooking the city, its breakfast feast the best I've ever had in Provence...

Cycling day 2: a loop from Uzès. I manage to veer from the planned itinerary from the start, and onto a mountain bike track in the forest. Beautiful but not necessarily appropriate for our hybrid bikes...

We pass several perched towns in the countryside, praying for the moment that our path returns eastward, so that the &#!!@ Mistral winds can be of help, pushing us towards St. Quentin (no Teresa, not the prison) for a well-deserved lunch.

Cycling day 3: leaving Uzès, Teresa is caught flagrant délit with her iPhone (should I mention here that Nikki is in the bike store doing some shopping?)

We reach the imposing Pont du Gard, a Roman bridge, the tallest ever built during the Empire. I take the girls away from the tourist masses and up a path leading above the bridge, enjoying the site/sight in all its splendour.

The Mistral is at its worst today, particularly angry, and we tuck in behind a cemetery wall, facing southeast, to enjoy a potato salad...

And dessert!

Luckily we're heading southeast, and with the Mistral behind us, the kilometers zip by, and we cross the Rhône River with ease...

Before reaching our destination, at the foot of the Alpilles mountains, we cross vast fields of fruit trees and alongside a picturesque canal outside the town of Tarascon.

The 60km are worth the effort: we reach the Mazets des Roches hotel, nestled at the foot of the Alpilles. Wow. The busy tourist season ends at the beginning of September, and we have the hotel practically to ourselves. The meals are as spectacular as the setting. Below is my interpretation of a starfish in the pool... (do I really get paid for this?! Yes, I do)

Our lunch plates at the hotel, prepared on slate boards, under the shade of mature trees...

Cycling day 4: NO MORE MISTRAL!!! A 650ft climb takes us to the perched village of Les Baux de Provence, where we dismount and walk through a labyrinth of medieval streets.

And enjoy a coffee:

Cycling away from the village, climbing even higher, the views open to unveil Les Baux at its most stunning:

Hiking day 1? Ok, it's really not a hiking tour, but being at the foot of the Alpilles mountains we couldn't miss out on some of its beautiful trails, could we? I take the girls on a short hike into the hills, among the fragrant plants and brush, and we enjoy the views of the plains below:

Cycling day 5: in the afternoon, after a beautiful lunch and swim at the Mazets des Roches, we head into the flatlands, cruising on seldom-used roads and among sunflower fields. The ride is short and quick, taking us to the Roman city of Arles.

Arles seen from the coliseum:

Cycling day 6: south of Arles, in the Camargue delta, the scenery changes abruptly. We exchange rolling hills and perched villages for flatlands as far as the eyes can see: vast empty spaces with few buildings, and a never-ending horizon of marches and salt-rich soils.

Below a few flamingoes search for food in the marsh:

The Vaccarès marsh, offering a cool breeze on a hot day...

Back in Arles, at the Coliseum, after the last day's ride:

The Saturday market in Arles, just before parting ways with Nikki and Teresa...

Having left Teresa and Nikki, and walking back to the train station, I run into a hoard of tourist groups arriving from river boats and into town. They are led by microphone-wielding guides whose monotone stories and factory-like-ushering-of-crowds-through-town comforted me in my tour this week: more intimate, a true exchange, friendship, and a more authentic glimpse at my beloved Provence.

Thanks for the great week Nikki and Teresa!

A few words from Teresa:

"Six days, 260 km, wind, sun, ancient villages, vineyards, fields, orchards, canals, rivers, marshes, birds, horses, dogs, and a constant stream of laughter and witty repartee. Riding thru Provence exceeded all my dreams and felt like Heaven on Earth. Thank you for a beautiful holiday and see you next year!"

Strolling through Provence...

2010-06-17T00:49:00.000-07:00

We run a walking trip for a company called Country Walkers, one of our partners, based in the US. While I was typing away at my computer in the office (arrrgh!), two of my guiding colleagues, Mariska & Pierre, led the Country Walkers through the magnificent Provençal countryside...
Below, the vines in all their splendour:

Walking up to the timeless hamlet of Sivergues, lost in the Luberon mountains. "Sivergues" comes from "six vierges", or six virgins. As the story goes, the hamlet was first settled by six virgins and a monk. Lucky guy...

The group in front of the village of Lacoste, with the ruins of Sade's castle looming at the summit. Mariska, the guide, is at the bottom-left of the picture.

Enjoying a wonderful meal together...

One of our guests' comments:
"It was a fantastic trip, and we would like to give full credit to Mariska and Pierre. They were both really nice people and tried very hard to please the group. And the group consisted of all great travellers, and we all had an amazing time together."
Jane

Defeated by Ventoux

2010-06-07T14:17:00.000-07:00

It all started with a phone call. We had forgotten to equip bikes with computers for a group of Australians who began a self-guided tour of Provence today. And so after a day at the office I set off to the foot of Mont Ventoux, an hour's drive from Avignon, where the group had arrived after their first day's ride. Our famed and unbeatable Road Book led them easily to their destination, despite missing their computers...

Feeling quite masochistic today, I decided to bring my bike along, and test my legs on the dreaded climb up Ventoux. Too far above my fighting weight, and not having trained for years, I still managed 50 minutes, at a whopping average of about 8km/h (yes, you can easily run faster than that -- or even power walk), and encouraged by the spray-painted encouragements of last year's Tour de France: "Last Chance Lance", or perhaps the giant spray-painted phallus, all before throwing in the towel -- and my entire body -- disgracefully upon a tuft of savoury (an herbe de Provence) on the side of the road.

With the evening sun hidden behind the clouds, the vines extend into the horizon...

Hey kids: don't try this at home...

Scandinavians in Provence

2010-06-05T13:05:00.000-07:00

I'll be perfectly honest: this past week wasn't one of my favourite guiding expeditions; but then again, I wasn't really guiding: I was driving the support vehicle for 16 Swedes and Norwegians who descended upon Provence to cycle for the week. They arrived with their own guide -- the very cultured Magnus -- who's guided for many years (no Magnus, I won't disclose your age) and in many different countries for the Swedish comapany TEMA.

And so where does Walk Inn fit in?: we supplied the bikes, the vehicle, and the "mechanic" (moi), and prepared picnics for the group along their cycling route (moi aussi!). I have to admit that while driving at 15km/h behind the Scandinavian peloton and listening to French pop music, I couldn't help but want to hop on a bike myself (though I did find my opportunities during the week). But I faithfully performed my duties: fixing flat tires, adjusting brakes, putting bike chains back into place, handing out water, and cheering on the Scandinavians as they battled a ferocious Mistral wind that blew every day but the last.

In the olive tree that provided the shade for the group's picnic lunch, I await their arrival with some fresh baguettes, several kinds of cheeses, pâté, and all sorts of other goodies, including the rosé...

Speaking of rosé, it was so popular with the Scandinavian cyclists that -- at least in this case -- it replaced the water bottle...