Driving into Autumn: Haute-Loire

 

Driving into autumn

Saint-Didier_en_Velay

We have continued on our road trip moving further north and west. There is something quite invigorating about setting out on the backroads here in France and just taking in the surprises of what is revealed along the way.

 

Leaving Sisteron this morning and arriving at our 'gite,' deep in the countryside of the Haute-Loire, took us on quite some adventure. 

Precipitous mountain passes, narrow roads and hairpin bends of the Cols, and glorious vistas as each range of mountains were crested. 

Remote villages along the way, few cars and people and the rich pastoral landscapes that make France so special.

Driving into the unknown and wild side.

What struck me the most was experiencing the change in the seasons from the fiercely hot late summer in the south-eastern most corner on the Mediterranean Sea to the cooler, almost cold weather of autumn here in the Haute-Loire. 

We have literally been driving into autumn, the trees have turned all the shades of yellow, orange and red and the leaves are falling. 

The days are shorter, the light quality is changing and we are also feeling the changes, eating indoors, needing hot food, wearing a jersey, looking to sneak into bed a little earlier to keep warm, even considering get a fire going in our gite...

Snowy owl moments: 'Maman' at the Guggenheim, Bilbao

'Maman', bronze by Louise Bourgeois, Guggenheim Museum, Bilbao

There are times on long extended overseas travel when it's too easy to compromise, it's easier to say no for whatever reason, Fred and I call these decision moments, Sharon's 'snowy owl'. We had been travelling across Canada and Alaska for a couple of months and had arrived back in Anchorage, a couple of days earlier than expected, after a particularly arduous birding trip out to the Pribilof Islands.

I thought about planning a trip up north to Barrow, the furtherest northern community in the USA and an excellent sighting spot for the Snowy Owl. But I didn't. We went bear watching, glacier viewing, cooked salmon and halibut instead, all special but I have yet to see a Snowy Owl, a must on any birders' list.

It was a decision where I settled, rather than being bold and following what I really wanted to do.

And here we are, in Bilbao, Fred having driven across the 380km from Salies-du-Salat, and this is not a snowy owl moment, we braved traffic, a parking garage, signs we cannot read to get to the Guggenheim this evening as heavy rain is predicted all day tomorrow - our museum day.

I have just experienced what I have desired to see and do, which is to experience the power of art,  'Maman'! 

'Maman' is monumental, 9m in height, predatory but protective of her sac full of eggs. 

She hovered above me on those bronze spindly legs which are like Gothic arches, she is powerful and fragile. 

Happy and grateful.

'Maman' looking towards the bridge.

"il attaque": a circular moment between Marly-le-Roi to Salies-du-Salat

"Elle attaque" Kirstie loving the fresh baguette!

Shawni and me in 1987. 

The story.

We lived in Marly-le-Roi, a village to the west of Paris in 1986/7. We would pop into the local boulangerie for our daily baguette and on one of those days, when our French was rudimentary at best, the baker was yelling at us "il attaque, il attaque" and we had no clue what was being said or what was happening. 

Eventually we worked out the Shawni had lent out of her pram and was systematically breaking off the tops of the baguettes that were stored in a basket near her pram!

So I was so mindful of this story when we ambled down into the village this morning to buy baguettes and I loved breaking off the tops when Kirstie asked for some. A true circular moment.

A morning walk into Salies-du-Salat
with James and Kirsten

A pilgrim path and walking meditation: Saint-Bertrand-de-Comminges Valcabrere

 

The cloister of the Cathedral of Sainte-Marie, perfect for my walking meditation.

Pilgrim way between Saint-Just and the Cathedral.

Yesterday we walked the pilgrim path between the Basilica of Saint-Just of Valcabrere and the Cathedral of Sainte-Marie. These stopping points in Saint-Bertrand-de-Comminges are listed on the Unesco's World Heritage List as belonging to the routes that ultimately lead to Santiago de Compostela. How wonderful to briefly touch this ancient way and for a while to be part of its story.

It's a small community, completely off the beaten track with a history that goes back to being a thriving capital of the Roman Empire - Lugdunum.

The cathedral's construction dates back to 1083 with many transformations and additions over the centuries and as we walked the path it floats on the hill and dominates the gentle surrounding landscape.

Both the interiors of the basilica and the cathedral were restful and each in their own way magical. My favourite place though was the cloister, overlooking the Pyrenean piedmont, with its pebble floor and its detailed carvings on the capitals of the pillars; peaceful. 

The remarkable cathedral with the historic lower and upper town,
 among the ancient ruins from the Roman Era

Detail from the Upper Town, medieval Cite, 16th C half-timbered house.

Au Coeur des Géants: Col du Lautaret and Col du Galibier

A perfect summer day in the Hautes-Alps

 

A day in among the giants of the Alps. We drove the road from the south of the Col du Galibier, a twisting 8.5km from the Col du Lautaret. It's one of the highest paved roads in the Alps and we passed through the tunnel at 2556m which is the highest in Europe. 

Another legendary Tour de France landmark, the most visited climb in the event's history and a mecca for all cyclists. We spoke to a young German girl who is cycling the classic passes with a group and they put in months of training and planning, its a life event for many and it is for Fred and me too.

And its all about the outstanding viewpoints from both the Col du Lautaret and the Col du Galibier and we had unrestricted views across to Mont Blanc (4810m)! 

Mont Blanc from the Table d'Orientation at the Col du Galibier

Day three in the Alps and we saved the best for last, such beauty wherever we looked.

Typical alpine scenery and the iconic switchbacks.

Moments of reflection and gratitude: the Collegiate Church, Briancon

Collegiate Church of Briancon dating from 1703 floating above the Haute Ville

I have set a practice in place for these two months of travel through France, Italy, Spain, Belgium and the Netherlands. 

Between the busyness of finding a good coffee and pastry, of planning our walking, of road tripping, of sight seeing, of managing photos and blogging, of baguettes from a Boulangerie, of daily provisioning, of time with friends and family, of packing and unpacking... I will sit quietly in each church I happen upon.

The opportunities for reflection and particularly for gratitude seem to get lost in the daily hustle. 

Stepping into the quietude of a church, however grand or plain, finding a back row seat, taking in the lofty skill of the stonemasons, the floors and stone steps that are worn from centuries of footsteps, noticing the fresh flowers and the subtle lighting, loving the sunlight through the stain glassed windows, suppressing the need to tidy and declutter, feeling the gentle warmth of the wooden pew around me, I am able to breathe deeply and just sit. 

These restful moments are restorative and a keen reminder for me to pay attention to all that I am grateful for.