Conquering Mont Ventoux

Mont Ventoux by Brompton #KTTinyTourer

Two weeks ago, I achieved something epic, something that put me way out of my comfort zone and something that six years ago I would not even have considered attempting. I cycled up Mont Ventoux, the Beast of Provence; a barren, rocky mountain summit, almost 2000m above sea level where little grows. A cyclist’s dream ascent (or nightmare), home to many Tour de France winning highs, but also lows, notably the death of Tom Simpson, one kilometre from the top, in July 1967.

 

We had arrived in Montbrun-les-Bains on Wednesday afternoon, for the second part of our South of France, post-confinement getaway, and a quick check on the weather forecast told us that Thursday morning would be our best chance of kind weather to attempt Mont Ventoux.

 

This had been Adrian’s dream since early 2014, when the plan had been to spend some time in the area on our Mini Cooper road trip, with Adrian hiring a road bike from Sault and cycling to the top of the mountain. I would provide the back-up, food stops and water refills from the comfort of Gizmo, the Mini. It never even entered our heads to think of parking up Gizmo for the day, hiring two bikes and cycling up together. My fitness at that time would have made it impossible. Gizmo breaking down on day two of our road trip, meant it was impossible for Adrian that year too.

 

In 2017 he planned once more to give it a go. There is something about Mont Ventoux that when it takes hold, its grip is difficult to shake off. Once again, he never even made it to the start point, having crashed off his bike in the Ardeche, damaging his shoulder. There was a small part of my head that felt someone was trying to warn us away from this particular cycling challenge and the best thing to do would be to forget all about it. Then earlier this year I found myself thinking, what if we give it one more go, to celebrate his 50^th birthday and this time do it together? Everything seemed to be in alignment this time. Cycling has become a regular part of our lives, winter and summer, meaning we are both much fitter now than either of us were six years ago. His Mum gave me her blessing, even agreeing to come over and dog sit while we were away and the cherry on the top was discovering that due to road works at the summit, the road would be closed to motor traffic all this year. Then Covid-19 burst into our lives and all plans were on hold.

 

Adrian celebrated his 50^th during lockdown with a virtual ascent of Mont Ventoux on his turbo trainer in the garden, but it didn’t quite quench his thirst. A quick look on the map of France when planning our route to and from Lou Messugo on the Côte d’Azur, showed us that Mont Ventoux was once more a possibility. Something even more poignant was that our last conversation with our nephew Ben before he died, was about cycling up Mont Ventoux. This time it seemed the mountain was ready for us.

Mont Ventoux in the distance from Montbrun-les-Bains

 

The closer we got to Mont Ventoux on the drive in, the bigger and more intimidating the landscape looked, despite a pleasing, softening blush of lavender in its first days of flower all around us. The enormity of Mont Ventoux and our plans to attempt to climb it really hit home, right in the pit of my stomach. I could taste and feel my fear. A quick text to fellow blogger Julie, from Vauclause Dreamer, who has conquered Ventoux on her bike many times, helped to calm my nerves. Her advice was to take it slowly, don’t rush it, stop when I wanted to and enjoy the ride. I’m not sure I’d ever considered the possibility of enjoying it until I read her text, but it worked.

 

The climb from Sault is twenty-eight kilometres, but we were staying twelve kilometres from Sault and not wanting to use the car unnecessarily, at 8.30am I found myself cycling (uphill) towards a morning coffee stop in Sault where the top of Mont Ventoux looked a long way away. 

 

By the time we set off a steely determination had taken the place of the fear, especially as we were doing this For Ben, clocking up the kilometres on our virtual cycling challenge to get our teams the 7500kms from Loughborough to Istanbul and back. Our Mont Ventoux kilometres would be special ones as today would also be the day that the fundraiser hit its £30,000 target.

 

Lavender fields leaving Sault

I don’t remember every twist and turn in the road, but I do remember cycling through fields of lavender, the sun warming us as we slowly began the climb. The fields were then replaced with pine forest and steeper corners where cyclists who had already been up were sweeping down towards the sunnier planes. There were other cyclists with us, some who overtook us, some who we overtook. Some were friendly, some ignored us with our odd looking small wheeled bikes. Those who did speak, wanted confirmation that they were electric assist, which they are not – if only we had a euro for every time that was asked.

Tom Simpson memorial Mont Ventoux

 

At Chalet Reynard we feasted on coffee and snacks, the stark rocky mountain looking fierce from the bend in the road where the café is safely situated. The final six kilometres are the hardest, but I was ready. Slow and steady I plodded on, turning the pedals rhythmically and steadily. Some were out of their saddles, rocking from side to side with the effort, not me, I just sat and concentrated on safely getting to the top. I even managed to smile for some of the professional photographers who sit in wait to snap you at your lowest point, and although many overtook me, surprisingly there were some who I overtook too. We stopped, as is the custom, at the Tom Simpson memorial, my legs shaking with the effort to stand, the last kilometre looking to be the longest yet. The view is harsh here, with no contrast from left to right, just stark rock all around, and the only thing to do is keep looking forward and turning the pedals, each turn a little closer to the top.

Top of Mont Ventoux

 

Rounding the last bend and joining the throng of weary cyclists at the top was quite a strange feeling. I’d done it. I hadn’t had to get off and walk and my legs no longer felt like jelly as they had only a kilometre ago. My breathing wasn’t dry and ragged like I’d thought, I didn’t even need to sit down. I was smiling and elated as I stood proudly at the sign for my victory photo. Mont Ventoux was conquerable and we’d done it, in Adrian’s 50^th year and #ForBen.

Together and smiling as we cycle up Mont Ventoux

Mini Cooper Road Trip, Day Seven back to home

La Rochefoucauld, Poitou-Charentes

We set off from Rocamadour on our preferred back roads heading north west, and were straight away driving through walnut orchard country. This inspired me, or maybe that should be encouraged me to check out the boulangerie selection of walnut tarts when I was supposed to be buying a baguette only. We didn't need another patisserie today as the two Russe we bought in Meyrueis were so big we'd shared one and saved one yesterday. However it would have been surly to ignore a walnut tart in walnut country, so I didn't, although it was only tiny. We crossed the river Dordogne and then found ourselves in the dry lands between the Dordogne and Vézere rivers, dry of coffee stops that is, but thankfully we found our fix just before crossing the Vézere. 

What we did notice in this area was the somewhat quirky tradition to hang a shield and tricolour flag high up on the outside of the homes of the village Maires and local councillors, accompanied with the words "Honneur à nos élus" (To honour our elected). From a bit of google searching it seems to be linked to the arbre de mai (a tree symbolising liberty) and takes place at the beginning of May following the local elections (which were last held in 2014), to celebrate the newly elected council. They can be accompanied with a newly planted tree, they can be decorated with flags or ribbons, they can be at each individual's house or just one communally. We certainly drove past rather a lot of them and I'm rather glad we live in Poitou-Charentes rather than the Lot, Correze or Limousin.

Rillettes from Rocamadour

We lunched in a lay by, which was nicer than it sounds and the duck rillettes from Rocamadour were delicious. By early afternoon we were back in Poitou-Charentes and stopped by the chateau in La Rochefoucauld for our patisserie, half the walnut tart each and a quarter of the Russe, which generously left half a yummy Russe for Ed when we got home. It was great to be back in Poitou Charentes and seeing its beauty with fresh eyes again. This feeling was reinforced by Adrian's parents excitedly telling us how lovely the drive back from Ed's music lesson was, a drive I do twice a week, in the dark, the rain, the fog, the ice, but also at sunset and in the glorious late summer evenings. It's become my routine and I'd forgotten how lovely our local landscape is.

Daily patisserie, the Russe and walnut tart

Our holidays are not really the relaxing and recharging of batteries type holidays, more a feeding of the senses on a journey that is the holiday rather than a means of getting to a destination. It is the changing scenery, building styles, landscapes and the flora that fills us with energy. Even the patisserie choices changed from region to region, stimulating our taste buds too. One thing I did notice this year was my poor eyesight compared to three years ago. With the car bouncing around I really struggled to read the road numbers on the map and have decided I might need one of those neck mounted magnifying glasses next time. I've never struggled to read a map before and I'm not sure I like the idea of getting old.

Within an hour of arriving home and despite feeling relaxed and refreshed we were about to get a real shock. Ed was out at a party with friends when a Gendarme van pulled up outside our house and straight away confirmed we were M et Mme Brown and that we had a fourteen year old son, Edward. In that second my heart stopped beating, before beginning again and hammering away in my chest. 

Thankfully all was well, Ed had witnessed the theft of a bike from school and they needed to interview him, with us, as he is a minor. As we had been away and not yet seen Ed, we had no idea what was going on, especially as he had neglected to mention the incident on the phone. It wasn't quite the welcome home we were expecting and it certainly took me a while to breathe easily again.

I hope you have enjoyed our little adventure in a Mini Cooper in France. I'll let you know when we hit the road again.

Mini Cooper Road Trip, Rocamadour in pictures

Early evening in Rocamadour

We parked right outside the hotel in Rocamadour l'Hospitalet and entered the reception by the bar, the view over the valley being cleverly concealed by the side of the building. Inside, our tired eyes took in the interior, but failed to notice the view from the terrace behind us, so knowing we had paid a bit extra for a room with a view, we entered our room excited to catch our first glimpse of Rocamadour. However the shutters were down so still we saw nothing, until we waited for them to slowly rise up. 

It was stunning. An uninterrupted view of the valley, the rocks and the perched village set into the rocks over many levels with an imposing church at the top. What surprised me most during our stay was that the view kept changing and each time I looked it seemed better than the last. There was a slight haze when we arrived, but as we dined on the hotel terrace and the sun began to set it started to glow.

Dinner overlooking Rocamadour

Back in our room at sunset it looked fabulous.

Sunset at Rocamadour

After dark it was illuminated and I could have sat and watched it all night. 

Rocamadour at night

The following morning, the early dawn light gave it natural highlights and I thought that was my favourite view.

First light at Rocamadour

But then, although the cloud came down a little it couldn't spoil the amazing sight of hot air balloons rising from the valley floor between us and the village. This changing view alone was worth staying in Rocamadour l'Hospitalet, in my opinion. 

Hot air balloons at Rocamadour

We were up and out early, although not quite as early as the balloonists, to do some walking and exploring with high hopes of beating the crowds and enjoying our breakfast croissant in Rocamadour. Gizmo enjoyed his roar down the valley and through the tunnel and we were delighted to find the parking was free until 10.00am, so leaving the car by one of the stone gateways we set off on foot through the narrow streets. 

The narrow streets of Rocamadour

It seems that Rocamadour, like Sarlat, is (unfortunately) not a morning place and although the neck-cricking views of the churches are certainly very impressive from the lower streets looking up, the deserted village gave the impression we shouldn't be there yet. We climbed (most of) the 200 steps of the Grand Escalier that links the lower village with the higher places of worship, on our feet rather than our knees as many pilgrims before us had done, but we were alone in our journey and our footsteps echoed eerily. 

Rocamadour from below

We failed to find a boulangerie to buy our croissants or a café open for a simple coffee, even the tourist shops selling knives and smart phone cases were shuttered closed, although what they would add to village life is questionable in my opinion. A real village should be about daily life rather than just tourist attractions that open when the parking charges apply and we felt more like we were out of hours visitors to a theme park than travelers taking a morning wander in a living village. Sadly, with 260 kms to drive we were on the road long before Rocamadour opened for business, although the nice lady with the farm shop just out of town was very happy to talk to us about her duck products, sell us some tasty rillettes for lunch and some wine to take home for a celebratory drink with Adrian's parents.

Mini Cooper Road Trip, Day Six to Rocamadour

View over River Tarn

Sleep came easy despite, or maybe because of, the thundering river outside the hotel that sounded like heavy rain and we awoke refreshed and ready for the day. Continuing our tradition of the last few mornings we enjoyed a pre-breakfast leg stretch, this time a yomp up the GR62E footpath to the Notre Dame du Rocher chapel that sits high above Meyrueis, before enjoying a coffee and croissant in the company of Gaspard the parrot who chatted away happily. Before setting off west to tackle the Tarn gorges we drove a circular 50km route from Meyrueis via Mont Aigoual as we had done three years ago. The scenery changed from dark and shady pine forests where the air was cool to flat open plaines with sunshine and fragrant yellow broom. The view was of craggy slopes of a sleeping ski station and rolling hills disappearing into the horizon.

Tarn Gorges

After morning coffee we crossed the impressive Tarn gorges where the ravines are almost a kilometre deep in places and where I felt very small. The rock colours had changed again to a sandy yellow and the verges were alive with Alpine type wild flowers in yellow, pink, white and purple. The other side of the river Tarn, on the high Causses we saw cereal crops again for the first time in a few days. By lunch time we had reached the river Lot once more and picnicked in the shady churchyard of Ste Eulalie d'Olt in the Aveyron, a quiet and almost forgotten gem of a Plus Beaux Village. The parking was free, the streets were quiet and we bought a delicious local goat cheese from the village epicerie for our lunch.

Ste Eulalie d'Olt, a Plus Beaux Village

The afternoon was a hot drive through countryside where the houses were built with round pink stone, the fields contained grazing cattle or were market gardens with poly tunnels and brightly coloured rows of lettuces and the air smelt of freshly cut hay. As in Meyrueis, the houses were substantial with severe looking slate roofs. In the forty-five minutes it took to find a shady lay by to take a break in, our energy and sugar levels dropped, the outside temperature rose and the roof lines changed again to terracotta tiles. We were getting desperate, but eventually found somewhere to tuck into our patissiere from Meyrueis, called a Russe. Lots of layers of flaky pastry with raspberry jam and almond flakes that was perfection in every bite. We made it into Rocamadour l'Hospitalet ready to be wowed by our room with a view and jump into the hotel pool to cool off.

Mini Cooper Road Trip, Day Five to Meyrueis in the Cevennes

The lavender fields of France

Having indulged in a delicious wood fire pizza each last night we decided a pre-breakfast walk up the steep cobbled pathways to the chateau at the top of Montbrun-les-Bains was a good idea before tucking into the breakfast of rustic breads with local honey and homemade organic jams. 

The slightly quirky chambre d'hôtes with its odd plumbing, dated tiling and no wifi was charming and very relaxing. I've certainly never come across an outdoor sensor light in a bathroom before and it was rather funny that I was too short to set it off, but I still managed to find my way around without any issues. 

Mont Ventoux

Our drive out of town took us to the north of Mont Ventoux where there were more lavender fields and quiet, empty roads. The views of the mountains were no less breathtaking from this direction and the air was heavily scented. We weren't quite the only thing on the roads as we passed a rock plough/road cleaner vehicle who was ensuring the road was swept of fallen rock debris, not something we see around our way. Our winding roads took us through the Drome, the Haute Vaucluse and Provence Alps Côte d'Azur all before morning coffee. There were also a few cyclists out, but nowhere near as many as we saw in Malaucène when we stopped for coffee. It must be the first town in France I've been to where the bike hire shops outnumber the cafés, boulangeries and hairdressers. We saw cyclists of all ages, shapes and sizes, kitted up in Lycra and riding all styles of bikes up and down the high street. I'm assuming they were warming up and were all about to set off up Ventoux, rather than just posing in town.

Goat cheese and olive fougasse

A few years ago on a previous tour, we began our tradition of indulging in a daily patisserie. This year as well as the patissiere and the local cheeses we are buying for our lunch, we have been adding a bottle of local wine to take home too. We are hoping to have quite a collection by the time we return home. Somehow yesterday and today, an extra treat of an olive fougasse ended up being bought and enjoyed, but thankfully (for my waistline) I don't suppose that will continue as we head away from the olive groves of the south. By lunchtime we had crossed the Rhone and stopped for a picnic on a shady bench overlooking a lake, where the clank of pétanque balls competed with the bird song. For us it will always be known as lovers lake as the bench next to ours was occupied by a couple far more interested in each other than their lunch. As they sat, their bodies inclined towards each other, she touched his face as they chatted, he stroked her thigh, their eyes locked and they laughed. When their lunchtime was up, their goodbyes were sad and drawn out before they got in their cars and left separately, their illicit rendezvous over, until next time.

Once we were west of Orange and back in the Gard we found more lavender fields and these were noticeably bluer than the last ones - yippee! We were also on roads much easier to stop on so I finally got the pictures I was after. The temperature was in the high thirties and we were soon climbing back into the forests where the hot air was scented with pine and herbs and the scenery was craggy and rocky. We spent a fun afternoon twisting, turning, climbing and descending before arriving in the Lozère department and being welcomed to the Cevennes national park by a herd of cows whose bells gently chimed as they slowly moved their heads. The small valley town of Meyrueis was just as we had remembered it from our visit in 2012. We parked the car in the same spot outside the same hotel before having a beer on the balcony and booking a table in the same restaurant we had eaten in last time. Despite the set menu seeming rather familiar it was a very different dining experience as in April 2012 we ate in the cosy indoor dining room, but this time our table was on the terrace overlooking the river. The trout from the river that runs through town was just as delicious as I remember it. 

Tomorrow we will be heading west to Rocamadour for our final night.

Meyrueis, Cevennes

This post has been linked to Paulita's Dreaming of France blog link up. To read more posts about France, click here.

Mini Cooper Road Trip, Day Four to Montbrun-les-Bains

Tree lined avenues of Provence

It was a hot night in Nimes and as we both awoke early we decided to take a morning walk before breakfast and see the things we'd not had the time for last night, when beer and food were calling. We joined the street cleaners, dog walkers and Lycée students out and about before eight and although warm, it was pleasantly cooler than the night before. I think the gardens and water canals were my favourite sights and I'd return just to spend more time there. The Nimes flag shows a palm tree and a crocodile which we learned came from Roman times when the returning soldiers who served Julius Caesar in his Nile campaign were given plots of land around Nimes to cultivate. This explains why the square where our restaurant was last night had both a palm tree and a huge crocodile fountain.

We set off and soon found ourselves driving through the most beautiful tree lined avenues that I can only describe as being stunning. They went on for kilometre after kilometre and honestly took my breath away, especially when I looked up. If there hadn't been so much traffic I would have loved to stop and hug them, I am a bit odd, I know. The plan was to have morning coffee in St Rémy de Provence, however it was market day, the bars were packed out, the traffic was stationery and just as we arrived so did a group of thirty plus touring cyclists who were also looking for somewhere to park and a quiet spot for coffee. We left them to it and carried on our way. We found our coffee at a small restaurant at the side of the road, that was much calmer and gave us the strength to battle more traffic in Cavaillon. Oh Provence, why do you have to be so busy?

Gordes, Provence

Thankfully we found a quiet and shady spot overlooking Gordes for our picnic, which included an olive fougasse we had bought in a boulangerie in Nimes. After lunch we decided to return to our preferred back roads and headed up into the hills and away from the crowds and began our search for the lavender fields, which we found. Some even had their first blush of colour, which made me very happy as I've only ever seen them looking stick-like in early spring. It was a little cooler up on the plains as we made our way to Sault at the foot of Le Mont Ventoux and the air smelt herby. The best thing about driving with the windows down is smelling the scenery as well as seeing it. Our final stop before heading to the hotel was to tackle Mont Ventoux, although it wasn't a cycling challenge for us this time. This was no bad thing as I found even driving up Ventoux to be very moving, especially when we watched lots of cyclists rounding the last bend and being cheered home by friends, family and strangers. There was something about the size of it that really made my stomach wobble, so I'm not sure I'll ever get to the top by bike. 

Le Mont Ventoux

After a patisserie, which was unfortunately a supermarket purchase and not particularly exciting despite eating it on the stark white rock of Ventoux, we left the Vaucluse and entered the Drome. Our home for the night was Montbrun-les-Bains, a small spa village with medieval cobbled pathways rather than roads and where we could have done with a donkey to carry our bags from the car. It was a beautiful place, with a friendly hotelier who served us a fresh pressed apple juice on arrival and where we found a perfect shady spot to enjoy a beer, with a welcome breeze and a view. Tomorrow we will be turning around and making our way back to the west by the Cevennes.

Montbrun-les-Bains

This post has been linked to the Lou Messugo All About France blog link. Click on the link to read more great posts about France.

Mini Cooper road trip day two, the nuts bit

Continued from Day Two. We rolled into a parking place in St Beauzély and Ade took a peek under the bonnet. It didn't take him long to notice that hidden away under the air filter was a plate held in with three nuts and bolts, but only two were there. The clunking sound left him with no doubt that the missing nut had been sucked into the engine head. The only option, if we were to get Gizmo running again, was to perform major roadside surgery and strip the engine down to find and remove the debris and hope the damage it had caused was minimal. Obviously when I say 'we' I mean Ade (my hero), but I was chief nut and bolt holder, spanner fetcher, umbrella stand and kitchen roll dispenser so all bits could be dried before reassembly. 

Nut debris - ouch!

I have now seen bits of a car engine I never knew existed and can't quite believe just how many pipes, hoses, nuts, bolts, wires, gaskets and bits fit into such a small engine bay and how many of them needed to be removed in the correct order to get to the bit we needed to get to. This procedure took about two hours in a village high up in the middle of nowhere in the pouring rain - where oh where was the sunshine of yesterday when we needed it most.

My hero, who was not only well prepared with a boot full of tools and a head full of knowledge, but also kept calm enough to logically think the problem through, did it -  Gizmo fired into life once more, although Ade still has the scars from the scratches and blisters earned that day.

A perfect Mini covered workshop

We made it into Millau (about an hour from Meyrueis where we were headed) and found a handy Mini-sized covered workshop in a supermarket car park to make some further checks as although running we had a stuttering, lumpy engine rather than the meaty, throaty roar we are used to. Like our old cat whose legs are slightly bowed and who climbs the stairs slowly and cautiously, Gizmo too struggles a bit more than he used to. Ade had spent many hours working on him prior to setting off to ensure he was in tip-top condition but maybe with this road trip we were expecting too much of him.

We were tired, cold, damp and hungry and with evening approaching we both felt carrying on would be unwise. We sought refuge in a Campanile hotel that we could see from the car park where we gratefully made use of a warm room (with radiator to dry out the ECU), a bath, a restaurant, a clean bed and most importantly wifi; to catch up with news from home, research further the engine problems and unfortunately cancel all remaining hotel bookings.

We do have breakdown cover via our French car insurance, but we knew we were unlikely to be able to get hold of a Mini specialist on the Easter public holiday weekend to help us fix him. It was far more likely that Gizmo would have been towed to a local garage where he would have sat outside waiting for someone to look at him on the Tuesday and more than likely decide a new engine the only fix. We would have been given assistance to get home (or a hire car to continue), but for us, abandoning the car (who has been with Ade for twenty years) was not really an option.

Following a bit of spark plug adjustment Gizmo was running a bit better on Monday morning and with our hearts as heavy as the thick cloud shrouding Millau, we set off on a direct north/west course for home. There is something quite frightening when faced with the possibility of being stranded and unable to get home safely, but each kilometre driven was progress and as Gizmo warmed up, so did the weather. It was soon obvious that stopping and starting was more of a problem than foot-down driving so we ignored our morning coffee needs and munched through the kilometres passing by towns like Rodez, Figeac and Sarlat where we would normally have stopped. The further we drove the more it began to feel like getting home in one day was a real possibility.

The Dordogne redeemed herself from the cloudy uninspiring place we had driven through on Saturday afternoon and was bathed in sunshine, her quiet roads lined with pretty chateaux and attractive towns and villages. To stop a while would have been nice, but our mission continued and crossing the border into Poitou-Charentes was quite emotional. I was immediately struck by how colourful our special region of France was. The fresh bright greens of spring, the vivid yellow of the colza/rapeseed crops and the dark earth of the fields recently sown with sunflowers. We may not have mountains and gorges, but the rolling hills of the south Charente felt very welcoming and on a road we had not driven before we could see in the distance the castellated skyline of Villebois-Lavalette looking like a mini Carcassonne and enticing us enough to promise we will be back to visit it soon.

Sometimes in life it is not the places you visit, but the people you are with that matters and I'm so proud of what Ade was able to achieve and rescue us from the mountain. We picked ourselves up and carried on, albeit in a different direction, but it did make us realise how much Poitou-Charentes still has to offer.

Day two, Tarn et Garonne to the Aveyron

Day two dawned moist and damp, we are on holiday so I won't use the 'r(ain)' word, but a delicious breakfast set us up for the day and we set off east to Montauban and then found ourselves in Bruniquel for morning coffee. This is our third Plus Beaux Village de France in two days and although it would have looked better with yesterday's blue skies and sunshine it was still worth climbing the cobbles to the top of the hill.

Bruniquel

The driving was Mini-fantastic, twists, turns, gorges, stunning scenery and best of all tunnels. For those of you who don't know, the only way to drive a Mini through a tunnel is to open the windows, drop into second gear and ROAR through like a dragon - and yes, it always puts a smile on our faces.

Cordes-sur-ciel

The Gorges d'Aveyron led to the Gorges du Viaur and it's impressive viaduct. We left behind the low fruit orchards of yesterday with their fresh, green new leaves and climbed the high roads of the Parc Naturel Regional des Grands Causses and the Plateau du Levezou towards Millau. We saw blossom in the hedgerows and the Brebis milking sheep of Roquefort in the fields.

Viaduct du Viaur

Because of the weather we were often up in the clouds, but rounding a bend and catching a distant view of the Millau viaduct, it's tips with their flashing lights just visible, poking out of the distant hills was superb.

Then, with a clatter and a clonk Gizmo stalled at a junction in the small village of St Beauzély and the holiday sparkle lost it's shine!

Day one, Deux Sevres to Tarn et Garonne

A week ago today we set off for what should have been an eight day blast around the south of France in our Mini Cooper. We were excited, optimistic and looking forward to visiting lots of lovely places (see here), however if you are a follower on Facebook you will know that things didn't go to plan. Here is part one of what turned out to be quite an adventure.

We set off in the sunshine which is worth a mention as despite the lovely weather we've had recently, blue skies and sunshine aren't normal weather for when Ade's parents are visiting. I hope it continues for us and them!

Ready to go

Our morning route took us through the Cognac vineyards to Aubterre sur Drone, one of the Plus Beaux Villages de France, but sadly not one thoughtful enough to provide picnic tables for travellers, however being quick on our feet we snapped up the only bench to munch our baguettes. It is a very pretty village clinging to the hillside like many of its Provençal cousins, has a Romanesque church and a monolithic underground cave church (which we didn't get to visit this time) and has been on my wish list to visit for a while. Patisseries are always an important part of our road trips, but the choices in Aubterre were not great and we agreed we should have bought them from our boulangerie before leaving home (desolée Bernadette). 

Some of the funniest things we saw this morning was a lamb chasing a German Shepherd dog around a garden and some old supermarket trolley shelters being used for cow shelters in the fields. (Little did we know then that we would soon find our own original use for a trolley shelter.)

Aubterre sur Drone

Having driven through clouds in the Dordogne the sun came out again as we left the Bergerac ring road and found ourselves in rolling vineyards with hilltop chateaux and plum orchards. A sight that made it really feel like we were on holiday. We then drove into the Lot et Garonne and Bastide country, there are over 350 fortified hilltop towns in the south west of France, and Montflaquin provided a great place for our afternoon patisserie with a view. We were joined by lots of swallowtail butterflies enjoying the sweet chestnut blossom and sunshine. All was well with our world!

Afternoon tea with a view

We drove a total of 350km today and took no wrong turns, although we did manage to bypass Riberac so only glimpsed what looked to be a lovely church from the distance. Our rest for the night was not far from the banks of the Garonne river at Douce France, a B&B with friendly hosts, a welcome beer in the sun and a covered pool. Thankfully we swam plenty of lengths before walking just over a kilometre to dinner as the pizzas were HUGE. The restaurant also had a very friendly cat who was well behaved until she jumped onto the table.

We were a mixed group at Douce France; a Belgian/Irish couple, a Franco/Italian couple and us all conversing in French (as best we could). Thanks to Fred and David for making us so welcome.

The Pizza Cat 

Ready, steady, go - Gizmo on Tour 2014

17th April 1998

The lovable small Mini car has always held a special place in our hearts. We met through the London and Surrey Mini Owners Club, our two Minis plus our friend Jo's Cabriolet were our wedding cars, our wedding cakes were Mini shaped, Ed has Cooper as his middle name and no prizes for guessing where Mini the dog got her name from! 

In the years before Ed, most of our holidays were road trips in France with our Mini Cooper (Gizmo) and although things changed for a few (baby) years, when we moved to France in 2004 Gizmo came along too and since 2008 every two years we've been hitting the roads again. Ade's parents come over to look after Ed and the animals and we pack Gizmo and go, planning our route to avoid motorways and main roads and actively seeking out gorges and pretty villages.

April is the perfect month for a road trip in France. The weather should be reasonably warm, the main tourist areas won't be too busy and we get to celebrate our wedding anniversary (17th) and Ade's birthday (22nd). This years trip begins on Saturday and for anyone who wants to virtually follow our progress here is where we're going:

Day one, Deux-Sevres to St Nicolas de la Grave, Tarn et Garonne

Day two, to Meyrueis, Cevennes 

Day three, to Nimes, Gard, Languedoc-Roussillon

Day four, to Cassis, Bouches du Rhone, Provence

Day five, to Montbrun les Bains, near Mont Ventoux

Day six, to Orange, Vaucluse, Provence

Day seven, to Le Puy en Velay, Haute-Loire, Auvergne

Day eight, to Sarlat, Dordogne

Day nine, back home

Ade will be swapping the car for a road bike on day six and will be cycling up Mont Ventoux! Gizmo and I will be his back up team and cheering him on.

I will try to post regularly and keep you up to date as we make our way across France. I'm sure we will have lots of photos to share along the way.

Gizmo near Meyrueis, Cevennes 2012