Castellane

Basecamp shift down the Valley

Leaving La Palud with the favourite sandwich ingrediants procured we headed out of town to Point Sublime to watch climbers on the cliff face. Incredible that people actually challenge themselves to this extreme.

Our view down the Gorge overwhelmingly reminds us that gravity is against us and that hand rails are there for a reason. Sitting at a specially chosen venue on the side of the road (read - Camilla saw a gravel patch big enough for the car, 2metres square) we had a late breakfast of baguette, nutella, lavendar honey and without question a cup of tea. On this stretch of road it is impossible to not be blown away with the sight of huge mountains and green valleys. Amazing what a drop of rain and decent snow melts can do to the earth.

Setting up tent at a new destination has become very routine. Within 10 minutes a dry safe haven can be erected anywhere and sleeping gear laid out. By the time we had camp sorted we both had a funny feeling that the car was not being well utilised. Typically in Australia the average holiday drive would involve hours of dry straight road to mull through. Here we have moved down the valley bombarded with glorious views an entire 40 kilometres with photo stops.

Castellane - 30 April

Castellane is a small town with again (cut and paste) 'winding narrow streets, gorgeous squares, little fountains, and a chapel on a big rock'. If it is there you should climb it, that is the motto for all hardened and exhausted backpackers feeling lazy from the use of a car. Driving around the corner before the climb we set up a picnic in the river bed on dry rocks and commenced with smoked salmon (firtst time since Australia), cheese and avocado - Camilla's favourite. Our standoff with the sprinkles of rain lasted only a few minutes before we retreated to the campsite.

Had we listened to our feet and legs prior to climbing Le Roc, or taken a quick glance at the looming black (BLACK) clouds overhead we may have opted for a second cup of tea before departure. Following the map in our Verdon Gorge walking book it was exclaimed that an essential element of this adventure was to diligently follow the itinerary. Within minutes Steve had us following other tourists up the short cut. The lesson learnt here was that communicating any variations to Camilla is far more important than the shortcut.

On arrival at the top, and realisation that we missed walking through the historic centre of town, we found ourselves tired and needing to rest. At that precise moment the black clouds let out a bellowing clap of thunder that rolled through the valley and around the peaks promptly followed by our good friend, rain. The slippery descent did not encourage us to detour off the shortcut back even though the 9th century ruins in the fields were only metres away. Safely at the bottom we walked past a very welcoming French pizzaria which lured us back for dinner.

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