Messing about in rivers
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So last time we had spent a few days at Pont du Gard and now we were finally heading east to our original destination; Chateau neuf du Pape. Fans of Only fools and Horses will probably recognise the name of this famous wine region and this town at the heart of it. Home to the remains of the summer residence of the Popes of Avignon (the Papacy relocated to Avignon for 70 years during the 14th Century) at the top of this hill overlooking the Rhône river.
A beautiful little village where we had a glass of wine at a bar overlooking the hills toward the centre of Provence. After a stunning walk up to the remains of the Chateau, we headed back to the van and then a short hop west to the Rhône for our overnight stop.
This was a pretty great place. And despite the baking heat, this little spot beside the Rhône in the shadow of a ruined and privately owned castle was a perfect place to spend an evening and watch the sunset.
An Austrian couple in their van joined us just over the way with their dogs. After his evening dog walk, the guy told me that the moon was full and visible behind the castle on the hill if I walked down the river a small way. So thanks to that chap, as what resulted was one of my favourite photos with the new camera (thus far). Though I do want an even bigger telephoto lens now!
The next morning we packed up and headed further up the Rhône to the ancient Roman town of Orange. The town known for the Dutch Royal family? That Orange! This was meant to be a flying visit for an hour and then to do some laundry and wash the van etc.
But then we found that not only was this yet another gorgeous town, but also the amazingly preserved and restored Roman Theatre needed a lot longer than just an hour! This place is huge, one of the first built outside of Rome and is now used again for hosting shows and concerts. We spent hours here, including an interesting VR experience to help envisage the theatre during its golden era. A must see if you are near this north-western region of Provence.
After a quick wander to get some long shots of the Roman triumphal arch (again, incredibly detailed and preserved!), we headed back to the van. Next stop, laundry and van wash. Then we could get on with the long drive further north and eventually up through the colossal, awe-inspiring, Gorge d’Ardeche.
Wow. That’s it. Wow.
The Gorge d’Ardeche is on the sort of scale you’d expect to see in the US. Certainly we never expected to see a river gorge of this magnitude weaving its way through the French countryside. The hills erupted from the plains and carving its way through the immense cliffs was the Ardeche river, the final kayakers of the day working their way downstream toward the pick up point at Plage de Sauze beneath the cliffside town Aiguèze.
We stopped at every viewpoint on our ascent toward the park up we had chosen in the gorge. So now my camera is full of repeated landscapes of this gorge. Yet I had not yet learned that my camera had the ability to blend bracketed photos itself, so they were all a bit lacking in all honesty. (I wouldn’t learn this until the end of the week annoyingly.)
The next morning we had a quick chat with the French lady who had also stayed at the same park up about the amount of litter at the spot. She was in the process of picking it up and welcomed us to France “which is apparently a bin” (in French).
Heading off, we made it through the gorge and past the beautiful Pont d’arc to the town of Vallon pont d’arc. Here we checked into a vineyard with France passion and after booking ourselves a kayak for the next morning we took a walk into the town. A very hot afternoon followed, and I yet again got plenty of photos whilst Ellen bought herself some goodies from the various shops. We ended the day back at the vineyard with an obligatory stop in their Cave to buy ourselves some wine. Here I finally broke and bought a box to have in the van that would keep and not mean we need to drink an entire bottle if we want a glass of an evening. God bless the French I say!
A lovely evening taking a million photos of the birds in the baking heat and enjoying the wine that was being grown just metres away from us. Not a bad life really.
The next morning we were up at the crack of dawn to get to the Kayak pick up point. We had bacon and eggs for breakfast in the car park before grabbing our gear and heading to the pick up point.
After a brief problem with dates whereby the website had changed the date to American format and then booked us onto 6th November instead of the 11th of June (no idea how, we double checked and have U.K. IP addresses on phones) we were grabbing our gear and preparing for a day on the water. We had originally booked onto the 24 route but upon seeing it didn’t include the Pont d’arc and required us to get a bus further downstream we asked to upgrade to the 32km. Obviously they were more than happy as it meant no driving in the morning and also it wasn’t any more expensive as you’re still hiring the kit for the day! Happy days!
So, after a safety brief we wandered down to the river to collect our kayak, got everything strapped on and heaved off into this fast following and very shallow section of the Ardeche. As we battled the current we heard “Monsieur Madam!” from the shore. The German group behind us (yes German, speaking French as we are in France remember) had spotted our water bottles still sat on the shore!
I told Ellen to head to the opposite shore so they could paddle them out to us, but the fast water dragged us onto the rocks before she could assist me. This poor guy then walked them out to us in the strong current before heading back to his own kayak on the shore.
This was only the first time these bottles would fall foul of our cock ups today!
On we paddled, phone still in my board shorts pocket until we came to pont d’arc. We pulled off to the left bank and stepped ashore to take a moment and get some photos (camera well and truly safe in the van of course!).
From now on I would leave the phone in the waterproof tub with all our belongings and lunch etc. Good move. We pressed on and straight into the first of many rapids. However, a photographer in her kayak had pulled onto a rock in the middle of the river and this being our first experience of this just assumed she had pulled off on a rock on the left and was in the way. So we went to the right and straight away we ended up aground.
Good lord, and I was on the helm as the rear paddler, so despite our discussions, I can only take full responsibility!
Anyway, after a long and arduous trudge over the shallows we were finally free and continued on through the towering cliffs of the Gorge d’Ardeche that we had driven over only two nights before. Multiple rapids crossed our path and we started to get the hang of them, getting bolder and wetter each time. Thank God I put the phone int he tub!
That was until we hit a particularly fast and violent set of rapids later in the day. This needed a lot of fast manoeuvring to keep up, and clear lines of sight to navigate. But unfortunately for me, I couldn’t see well past Ellen and didn’t react fast enough to a large rock in our path halfway down. Full speed we smashed into the side of this rock as I tried to steer us to starboard. The port bow of the kayak slammed into the rock and the current was so strong, it lifted the kayak, me and Ellen both up onto the rock, threw us out and flipped the kayak over. Ellen went into panic as she fell into the deeper faster water. “Float and lift your legs!” I kept shouting, “float! Legs up! Let it take you down!”, “I’m scared!”, “Try to relax! Legs up!”
She made it down with a few bruises but safe. Phew. Meanwhile I had managed to slam my feet into the rocks in the shallower (but not much slower) water and brace against the current to get my bearings.
Once I knew she was safe, I then turned to fight to current toward the kayak now upside down and caught on the rock we had hit. As I was fighting, another guy had gone to shore and gotten out to try help but then realised how strong the current was. I told him (in French of course) not to worry, I could manage. I didn’t want more people going in because of my cock up.
I reached the kayak and using our two paddles that I had recovered as I had gone in, levered the boat free. It was no easy task given the current trying to keep it on the rock, but eventually it flipped off and I grabbed on. As the kayak took me down the rapids I looked to see Ellen’s water bottle which had been loose in the boat with mine, bobbing in the rapids close to the edge and under the cliff overhang. I made a note and let the kayak drag me down the rapids that Ellen had been dragged down a few minutes earlier. As the water calmed into the main river, I pulled myself aboard, paddled to my water bottle bobbing about in the current and then over to the shore where a distraught Ellen was waiting.
After a brief consoling and check that she was ok I decided I would go hunt for her bottle. She was ready to let it go but I couldn’t, it was covered in stickers from our adventures all the way back to our honeymoon in Tasmania where we bought them.
I walked up the shore back toward the scene of the accident. I couldn’t see her bottle downstream, mine hadn’t gone that far after all so it could only be nearer the rapids.
Sure enough, I hadn’t seen it bobbing about under the cliff, but in fact wedged up the side out of the rapids… but on the other side of the deep, fast water! Shit. Well… screw it, you can do this Tom!
I fought my way back out across the shallows from earlier and up stream a ways from the bottle, then dived in and swam for my life up stream and across. I timed it perfectly and the combination of forces, my swimming and the current, took me right where I needed to be and I climbed up onto the shelf next to the bottle. I strapped Ellen’s bottle with my own, oh yeah, I of course took mine with me for some stupid reason, and sat waiting for a long line of kayakers to descend the rapids.
A break in the line of boats and I jumped back in and let the rapids take me back down. Back in calmer waters I swam back to shore and walking past a scandalised looking German chap, handed Ellen back her bottle.
What a hero! 🤣
I must stress that we were both wearing life jackets throughout this whole ordeal. I wouldn’t have dared jump in without one!
After we had both calmed down, and I had eaten and drunk something, we got back on the water. The rest of the day was simply gorgeous and despite the aching arms and shoulders by the end of the day, we had a fantastic afternoon with plenty of swim breaks along the river.
Knackered upon our return to the kayak depot (bus transfers, very handy), we chucked our gear in the van and drove 10 minutes up river to a CampingCarPark on the old municipal campsite at Ruom.
This was a lovely spot and most pitches were in the shade. Which wasn’t too much of a problem for one night given our solar needs. But in the morning we decided we were too achey to do anything so would stay an extra night. So, I dusted off the electric hook up cable, buried deep in the depths of the van garage since early March and we settled in for a relaxing day. I continued working through my day skipper coursework and Ellen went for a wander into the village and up to the riverside. Later that evening we both went for a swim in the river for an hour before heading back for a shower and out in the village for dinner.
It was still light by the time we got back to the van after dinner. We decided that as we were in a proper site, we would sit out at the table and play a game of Carcassonne outside. I’m ashamed to say, that despite my prowess at fields, Ellen beat me this time!
The next morning we got up early to walk back into the village for the Friday market where we stocked up on fruit, veg and yet another leather wristband to add to my collection.
Back at the van we then hit the road for the long drive up into the Cantal in the Auvergne Rhône Alpes. After a decent drive we reached a quaint little village nestled in the valleys called Severette. Here we parked the van and walked down the road for coffee and leg stretch. The only open bar was typically rural French. For some reason I ordered a Cappuccino thinking it would be more likely than an allonge (a normal coffee for the uninitiated, not quite an americano). Which was met with a “non”. Ok so obviously an allonge is simpler so this should have been expected. “Stupid English”
After leaving this little pocket of rural France behind, we pressed onward. Eventually we arrived at our park up for the night at a lakeside in the baking heat. Plage de mallet on the reservoir of the Bés river was stunning and a great place to relax and Ellen went for a swim out to one of the islands and back.
We ended up spending two nights here too. Ellen relaxed out by the water most of Saturday whilst I did yet more day skipper work before joining her later in the afternoon for a swim and chill.
Back on the road in the pouring rain Sunday morning, we headed further into the Cantal. Making it to St Flour to grab some food at the few open supermarkets (Sundays in France, always fun) and to dump and fill the van. Then up into the mountains, well technically, extinct volcanoes.
We found a little spot nice and secluded with amazing views and settled in for a documentary on the history of London. Of all things. Ellen got some hiking in when the rain stopped in the afternoon. And whilst she fought with some grumpy horses blocking her route, I did a bit more day skipper and played a few video games. I'm still not sure who had the better deal!
All in all, another chill evening in a beautiful location, ready for yet another week of adventures ahead.
