Friday, October 06, 2006

hiking mont de la sainte victoire

After 21 days of baguettes and brie, vin et foie gras, and everything else wonderfully French, I felt it was time to get out and move around.

Mont Sainte Victoire, the mountain backdrop to Aix en Provence, was a favourite subject of Cezanne.

We pass along the moutain on our way into Aix on Provence every day, and have a stunning view of it from the house we're staying in. Way up high on the western peak is a cross you can just see from down below.

I decided to hike it.

I carefully copied the driving directions to the trailhead from Via Michelin (the one-lane French highways don't appear on any of the maps I bought) and managed, after a couple of wrong turns and stopping to ask at the village cafe, to find the tiny parking spot.

I wasn't sure what to expect; Frits had told us the hike up was over 2 hours, and it's been nearly a month since I did anything more strenuous than stroll through medieval villages.

After passing several "Reserve de Chasse" signs on the way to the trail, and seeing a notice that Friday is wild-boar-hunting-day in the vicinity of Mt Ste Victoire, I figured I'd better stick to the trails.

I didn't have a map, but the trail was simple enough; follow the red and white signs, which indicate the French "Grand Randonee" hiking trails. There are thousands of kilometres of hiking trails in France, all carefully marked and mapped; I didn't have any sort of map so was really hoping those red and white markers were accurate.

I set off with my lunch - baguettes, cheese, salami, apples and (of course) cookies, and a litre of water, half-running the first section in my excitement to be out on the trail.

I slowed down considerably as the trail turned upwards. The first part was a lung-busting 45 minute climb through fragrant, scrubby pine forest - a bit like the Grouse Grind, only hotter; in early October, it was still nearly 25 degrees.

All that fabulous food was weighing pretty heavily as I pushed myself forward.

Just as I was questioning why exactly I thought I should hike after 3 weeks of lazing around, the trail came out into the open, criss-crossing the rocky mountain. I could see the summit.

45 minutes later I was at the prieure, a 17th century church and refuge. Another 10 minutes of scrambling brought me to the summit - the cross on the top of Mont de la Sainte Victoire.

The summit, with stunning views in all directions, was more than worth the climb. I settled in with my lunch, perched on the side of the cross, looking west to Aix and watching paragliders swoop and float past the mountain.

It was the best way to spend my last afternoon in Provence.

The knee-shattering climb down took nearly an hour. It was after 6 by the time I got back to the house, and dinner was waiting; Craig and Christa prepared a Provencal dinner for my last night. Frits joined us as we ate al fresco, with candles and a few bottles of local wine.

It was a perfect last day in France. Tomorrow morning, 6 a.m. I'm off to Italy, to meet Kat; we're spending a few days near Verona before heading back to Munich.

I can't wait to have my first Italian latte.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home