It was not the best night; my cold made breathing difficult and broke up my sleep. Still, we got ourselves up at the planned 7:00 to be able to get the first tram from Comedie to Mosson.
I should go back a little. It had always been the plan to get public transport to the edge of the city to avoid pavement walking. But once you make that decision, there is the temptation to go just a little further on the bus. And so it was. We agreed to get a bus to Montauban and so avoid the suburbs and commuter villages beyond Montpellier. This requited us to get to Mosson, the tram terminus, early to get the bus.
It was a very good decision as Montauban 'centre ville' is a gorgeous spot with masses of suburbia on the edge, so we avoided walking through that.
Our first port of call was this boulangerie where we got breakfast pastry and baguette for lunch. Then we walked across the street to a lovely little caft.
I loved watching the village folk arrive and settle in for their morning coffee - you would have to imagine that it is the same every day. As each arrived, the woman behind the bar would get a kiss and then they would shake hands with each of the blokes already there.
After our breakfast we found this charcuterie. You can see that it is built into the side of the hill, so that the back is like a cave. We bought a couple of rounds of pate for lunch.
The way out of town was directly into rough forest and steeply climbing through a dense forest of scrub and small pines. - no suburbs here. We did get off the path but quickly found it again after walking along the road, D111, and the track paralleled the road for quite a way - rough stony path through straggly pine trees and then scrubby oak. After about 2 hours we reached La Boissiere where we found a little epicerie with a tiny lounge area. I thought the woman very unfriendly, and Phil reckoned she was doing her tax (there was paperwork involved).
Not much further along the road to Aniane (the D27), the markers took us off onto a red dirt road (seemed Australian), which Phil's guide informed us was the route of an abandoned railway line. There were several elaborate stone bridges and viaducts. The wide, smooth road went under a stone bridge and just after that we turned off the old railway and onto a narrower path that must have been a light rail line built for some sort of mine. The way was now much rougher, with a number of cuttings (Phil found that expression quite strange) and finally to the tunnel he had been promising.
We walked confidently in but in 100 metres or so it was no longer fun! Fortunately my head torch was near the top of my pack and we continued with just enough light to avoid damage. Shortly after exiting the tunnel we had our first view of Aniane, and shortly after stopped near the edge of the town, at about 12:45 for lunch of pate sandwiches, and smelly cheese - delicious.
Actually Aniane is a town without a distinct centre, just a motley mass of lanes with shops sprinkled here and there. Fortunately we had lunched so were not concerned about finding food. Our navigation skills seemed awry again and it took a while to find our way to the St Benoit abbatiale, a once grand 13th century church, but 'modernised' in the 18th. I found it fascinating that St Benoit had been there in the 8th century - and that most of the damage was done in 1562 (very specific) during the wars of religion (on the Le Puy route there would have been a reference to 'the protestant vandals').
We were also intrigued at the design of the houses; it seemed that there were no living rooms on the ground floor (no windows). Since the old town is very low, one theory was that the town was regularly flooded. I think I prefer Phil's alternative; we read that the old abbey had been used as some sort of reformatory or prison, and he reasoned that there were probably frequent escapes and locals had decided the safest thing was to lock up downstairs and live on the first floor!!
Finally we found some markers and then a road sign pointing to St Guilhem. We were now out of forest and into vineyards and olive groves. The track gradually climbed and towards the top of the slope the track turned and went along the base of the rocky ridge, beside a drystone retaining wall that looked as though it had been there since prehistoric times. We seemed to be high above the surrounding land, but after a short time we came down gradually and joined the road at the Pont du Diable.
Pont du Diable - or at least the first bridge is so named. It is the oldest and now a footbridge. The next one is the current road bridge and the one after is an aquaduct.
The river that they all span is L'Herault, and gives its name to the department or region. We followed it to our destination for the day, Saint-Guilhem le-Desert. This is the Gorge d'Herault and is incredibly picturesque. A great volume of water pours down, and a number of waterfalls add to the volume. For much of the walk along it we had to walk on the edge of the road, not totally comfortable. Fortunately for the last portion we were able to get onto a rough track even closer to the river.
There are no other pictures because it was difficult to capture images in that narrow little valley, or ravine. There were now quite a few tourists around and we had to share the track as it approached the village. This place is a UNESCO listed site so it attracts many tourists and there were still some about when we arrived a little after 4:00.
It is a lovely place and you can understand why it is listed as a world heritage site(it reminded me of Conques - a medieval village built around an abbey and in a remote location). We walked through the village before we found our gite, run by the Carmelite sisters. It appears to be an old house with a dormitory upstairs in a small room, kitchen downstairs and a bathroom off a landing (only one shower. I got annoyed when I found a couple of fellow pelerins who had been there a while in the queue for the shower - when I wanted one desperately).
We then had a look around this delightful little place - but it is very much a 'tourist town'. There are a number of bars and cafes but only a 'hole in the wall'-epicerie. We were reduced to getting a tart as entree and spaghetti .It was now quite cool and I had to add a layer. There was a bit of a crowd in the kitchen-dining area as we each sought to cook up our respective dinners.
The Korean woman was interesting; she has been in France for 11 years and speaks French very well (even the French acknowledged this), had developed her own jewellery business and then married a Korean student 3 years younger than her. Now they were selling up the business and moving back to Korea to start all over. She had a lot of go.
Of the other French there, Anna a tall Frenchwoman had some English and we could chat, but Andre, an older bloke, had no English at all. During our talk we found that we had missed a special service for pilgrims at the abbiatale - annoying - but there is another one first thing in the morning. By the time we were ready for bed it was very cold, and the cold wind had just kept blowing. The good thing was that my washing was almost dry.
An aspect in the old village
The cerntral square is very pleasant, although that cold wind made it a cold place to sit in the late afternoon.
The abbiatale
Some research from: https://sacredsites.com/europe/france/saint_guilhem_le_desert.html
The abbey of Saint-Guilhem-le-Desert owes its name to Guilhem, a French knight of the medieval period. Born sometime in the late 8th century, Guilhem was the grandson of Charles Martel, the Duke of Aquitane, and one of the Emperor Charlemagne's chosen knights. He fought bravely against the Saracens (Muslims) of Spain and became famous as the hero of medieval ballads due to his knightly prowess and chivalrous character. A devout Christian who ended his days (died 812 AD) in the monastery at Gellone, he endowed the abbey with a relic of the True Cross, given to him by Charlemagne. Because of this relic, the monastery soon prospered and became an important place of pilgrimage in southern France.
I should go back a little. It had always been the plan to get public transport to the edge of the city to avoid pavement walking. But once you make that decision, there is the temptation to go just a little further on the bus. And so it was. We agreed to get a bus to Montauban and so avoid the suburbs and commuter villages beyond Montpellier. This requited us to get to Mosson, the tram terminus, early to get the bus.
It was a very good decision as Montauban 'centre ville' is a gorgeous spot with masses of suburbia on the edge, so we avoided walking through that.
Our first port of call was this boulangerie where we got breakfast pastry and baguette for lunch. Then we walked across the street to a lovely little caft.
I loved watching the village folk arrive and settle in for their morning coffee - you would have to imagine that it is the same every day. As each arrived, the woman behind the bar would get a kiss and then they would shake hands with each of the blokes already there.
After our breakfast we found this charcuterie. You can see that it is built into the side of the hill, so that the back is like a cave. We bought a couple of rounds of pate for lunch.
The way out of town was directly into rough forest and steeply climbing through a dense forest of scrub and small pines. - no suburbs here. We did get off the path but quickly found it again after walking along the road, D111, and the track paralleled the road for quite a way - rough stony path through straggly pine trees and then scrubby oak. After about 2 hours we reached La Boissiere where we found a little epicerie with a tiny lounge area. I thought the woman very unfriendly, and Phil reckoned she was doing her tax (there was paperwork involved).
Not much further along the road to Aniane (the D27), the markers took us off onto a red dirt road (seemed Australian), which Phil's guide informed us was the route of an abandoned railway line. There were several elaborate stone bridges and viaducts. The wide, smooth road went under a stone bridge and just after that we turned off the old railway and onto a narrower path that must have been a light rail line built for some sort of mine. The way was now much rougher, with a number of cuttings (Phil found that expression quite strange) and finally to the tunnel he had been promising.
We walked confidently in but in 100 metres or so it was no longer fun! Fortunately my head torch was near the top of my pack and we continued with just enough light to avoid damage. Shortly after exiting the tunnel we had our first view of Aniane, and shortly after stopped near the edge of the town, at about 12:45 for lunch of pate sandwiches, and smelly cheese - delicious.
Actually Aniane is a town without a distinct centre, just a motley mass of lanes with shops sprinkled here and there. Fortunately we had lunched so were not concerned about finding food. Our navigation skills seemed awry again and it took a while to find our way to the St Benoit abbatiale, a once grand 13th century church, but 'modernised' in the 18th. I found it fascinating that St Benoit had been there in the 8th century - and that most of the damage was done in 1562 (very specific) during the wars of religion (on the Le Puy route there would have been a reference to 'the protestant vandals').
We were also intrigued at the design of the houses; it seemed that there were no living rooms on the ground floor (no windows). Since the old town is very low, one theory was that the town was regularly flooded. I think I prefer Phil's alternative; we read that the old abbey had been used as some sort of reformatory or prison, and he reasoned that there were probably frequent escapes and locals had decided the safest thing was to lock up downstairs and live on the first floor!!
Finally we found some markers and then a road sign pointing to St Guilhem. We were now out of forest and into vineyards and olive groves. The track gradually climbed and towards the top of the slope the track turned and went along the base of the rocky ridge, beside a drystone retaining wall that looked as though it had been there since prehistoric times. We seemed to be high above the surrounding land, but after a short time we came down gradually and joined the road at the Pont du Diable.
Pont du Diable - or at least the first bridge is so named. It is the oldest and now a footbridge. The next one is the current road bridge and the one after is an aquaduct.
The river that they all span is L'Herault, and gives its name to the department or region. We followed it to our destination for the day, Saint-Guilhem le-Desert. This is the Gorge d'Herault and is incredibly picturesque. A great volume of water pours down, and a number of waterfalls add to the volume. For much of the walk along it we had to walk on the edge of the road, not totally comfortable. Fortunately for the last portion we were able to get onto a rough track even closer to the river.
There are no other pictures because it was difficult to capture images in that narrow little valley, or ravine. There were now quite a few tourists around and we had to share the track as it approached the village. This place is a UNESCO listed site so it attracts many tourists and there were still some about when we arrived a little after 4:00.
It is a lovely place and you can understand why it is listed as a world heritage site(it reminded me of Conques - a medieval village built around an abbey and in a remote location). We walked through the village before we found our gite, run by the Carmelite sisters. It appears to be an old house with a dormitory upstairs in a small room, kitchen downstairs and a bathroom off a landing (only one shower. I got annoyed when I found a couple of fellow pelerins who had been there a while in the queue for the shower - when I wanted one desperately).
We then had a look around this delightful little place - but it is very much a 'tourist town'. There are a number of bars and cafes but only a 'hole in the wall'-epicerie. We were reduced to getting a tart as entree and spaghetti .It was now quite cool and I had to add a layer. There was a bit of a crowd in the kitchen-dining area as we each sought to cook up our respective dinners.
The Korean woman was interesting; she has been in France for 11 years and speaks French very well (even the French acknowledged this), had developed her own jewellery business and then married a Korean student 3 years younger than her. Now they were selling up the business and moving back to Korea to start all over. She had a lot of go.
Of the other French there, Anna a tall Frenchwoman had some English and we could chat, but Andre, an older bloke, had no English at all. During our talk we found that we had missed a special service for pilgrims at the abbiatale - annoying - but there is another one first thing in the morning. By the time we were ready for bed it was very cold, and the cold wind had just kept blowing. The good thing was that my washing was almost dry.
An aspect in the old village
The cerntral square is very pleasant, although that cold wind made it a cold place to sit in the late afternoon.
The abbiatale
Some research from: https://sacredsites.com/europe/france/saint_guilhem_le_desert.html
The abbey of Saint-Guilhem-le-Desert owes its name to Guilhem, a French knight of the medieval period. Born sometime in the late 8th century, Guilhem was the grandson of Charles Martel, the Duke of Aquitane, and one of the Emperor Charlemagne's chosen knights. He fought bravely against the Saracens (Muslims) of Spain and became famous as the hero of medieval ballads due to his knightly prowess and chivalrous character. A devout Christian who ended his days (died 812 AD) in the monastery at Gellone, he endowed the abbey with a relic of the True Cross, given to him by Charlemagne. Because of this relic, the monastery soon prospered and became an important place of pilgrimage in southern France.
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