The French Hikers’ Guide to Hiking in France ™

Part One

Arrival at The Gorge

I am thrilled to have the opportunity to join my compatriots in talking about hiking in France.  I like to hike regularly and do a couple of ‘boulces’ (circular trails) each week. I live in a village called Générac, just south of Nimes, and want to share with you one of my favourite walks in Provence (or ‘randonnées’ as we call them), around the Gardon Gorge and across the Pont du Gard.

As is the case with all my hikes, I choose the time of the year carefully to avoid the crowds that naturally flock to one of France’s great Roman monuments. That might sound a bit ‘snobbish’ or arrogant but, to use a Frenchman’s favourite example, given the choice to eat in your favourite restaurant, when would you go – the peaceful midweek or the chaotic weekend? I rest my case! So if you want to avoid meeting people like me at Le Pont, go at lunchtime; and if you want to miss those irritating school groups that tend to litter the lower causeway in the name of education, get there early morning or late afternoon.

Wash-rooms at St Bonnet

As for the time of year, my favourite is autumn, when both I and my object of reverence, can bask in the special sunlight that one finds at the end of the autumnal Provençal day. And we are walking Provence after all, that’s the reality on the ground, however much the central authorities might like to tell you that you are in the administrative region of Languedoc-Roussillon.

So let’s get stuck into the walk itself, shall we? Have a good breakfast (favour bread or toast rather than the croissants or pain chocolate) and natural honey will give you all the energy you need for the day’s hike. Save the cotton for your ‘après rando’ activities and don your micro-fibre shirts and synthetic shorts to ensure maximum ventilation and drying.

Late afternoon above St Bonnet

I have planned or recommended a number of walks in Provence for Walking in Languedoc. Ideally, I try to get the ‘challenging’ bit out of the way in the morning, give you a nice spot for lunch, and build in generally more relaxed walking in the afternoon. And for me personally, if there is something noteworthy en route, you have to earn the right to see it. In the context of walking the Gardon Gorge and its jewel in the crown, that means avoiding arriving directly at the new monster-of-a-visitor-centre-cum-car-park on the Rive Gauche. It’s ‘tacky’ or ‘dring dring,’ a phrase much in use under the Sarkozy regime, and represents everything wrong with state-led ‘tourisme’ in France.

The back-door route via the tourist causeway

I prefer to commence my Pont du Gard walking tour from a little village called St Bonnet, although there are alternative options. The village itself is naturally quaint and un-commercial; and for the few who take the trouble to climb to its fortified church, the views on offer are superb. Its ‘lavoirs,’ or open-air wash rooms, are also something ‘hors du normal.’

The hike commences on a small tarmac road, but you soon get onto a rather steep and stony limestone path. This takes you to the first pass from where you descend into the undergrowth along a trail heavily denuded by the seasonal rains. On a hot day you will be thankful for the over-head cover and you get to see some remains of the aqueduct high up on either side of the trail before you arrive at the Gardon gorge itself.

View along the gorge towards Castillon

Ignore the car park and the conference centre (not built by Emperor Augustus), leave the causeway and walk along the right bank of the Gardon towards Le Pont. It appears almost from nowhere, through the meridional sunlight. And your first glimpse of the enormity of this majestic structure, straddling the gorge, is one of those breath-taking moments that few other lowland hikes can boast. The enormity of Rome’s achievement is startling, and the aura that surrounds the grandiose edifice, chastening.

Part Two of this hiking post can be read here.

For a drive-hike tour that includes walking Le Pont, see Hiking Provence-Gard

For an inn-to-inn walking tour that takes you right along the Gardon Valley, see Walking tour Provence

St-Maurice from Lascours just before dusk

The French Garrigue is the name given to undulating Mediterranean lowland areas found just inland from the coast. Those of us who live here, and who are walking France regularly, are lucky enough to be able to hike it from September to late June. After that, in my opinion, it becomes too hot and dry to hike in comfort.

My favourite Garrigue is the region lying to the south of the Ardeche River, delineated to the west by the Cevennes foothills and the east by the Rhone valley. It offers many benefits to the hiking enthusiast. Firstly, it provides less physically-challenging terrain, perfect for the occasional hiker or ‘flaneur,’ with lots of interesting hamlets and villages en route. No endless climbs or lengthy and steep descents are to be found in topography that ranges from about 50 to 600 metres in altitude.

Equally as important is the intensely human nature of the Garrigue – it’s where we live and so is never far from sources of food, shelter and help. There are thus ample opportunities to replenish stocks, take sustenance in a bar or café or seek assistance if needed. For the inveterate socialite or the overtly gregarious, walking France means walking in the Garrigue. And access by air, rail and road is simple.

Mont Bouquet from Cruviers

We French are perhaps the greatest hiking nation on earth – where else does over thirty per cent of a country’s population practise hiking regularly? That also means we are generally more accustomed to hiking in isolated areas, are not frightened by this fact and prepare ourselves thoroughly for it. Your pharmaceutical provisions must amount to more than just a few plasters and a toilet role!

When walking in France we are, of course, on home territory, and one always knows one’s own patch better. And it is only natural for non-French to feel a little apprehensive about walking alone in a foreign country. Nevertheless, don’t forget that the levels of crime in France are far below those of the UK or the US and muggings don’t tend to be associated with countryside life. Moreover, French civil society protects and empowers the innocent in ways that other European countries do not, and so you need not feel guilty about carrying a pepper spray as a means of self-protection. But I digress…

The Garrigue and charming villages - an embarrassment of choice

Walking the Garrigue in Autumn is my preference. Why? The early mornings are crisp for these parts, anything from 3 to 8 celcius when we start off. This is a perfect temperature to kick-start the body’s engines, and guaranteed to install that ‘better get going’ feeling. As long as you avoid the seasonal rainy period (difficult to predict, but normally late October to mid-November) then the skies are lightly speckled with wisps of cotton wool and the sun soon burns off the residual dawn moisture, so paths are dry and there are no wet feet to contend with.

By midday you will be undressing and the afternoon is warm and sun-drenched, with cloudless skies thanks to our beloved Mistral. The distances you can cover under such propitious meteorological and topographical conditions will surprise you, with 20 to 25 kms a day being our average day’s walking in France. Of course distance is optional and there is always plenty to see and do along the way that can make arrival almost an afterthought, as opposed to the over-riding role it tends to play in many a mid-summer’s mountain trek.

Most of the vines have been well trimmed by now in anticipation of the winter season that arrives with almost clockwork precision the day the French start back to work after New Year. Of course, when you are walking France’s most important wine-making region, the vines are never monotone nor monotonous – so you will see the omnipresent yellow and red hues interspersed with leafless vines, that have a character all of their own, reminiscent of the ranks of invading Roman armies of yore.

The ubiquitous Mt-Bouquet from near Russan

The birdlife that remains in residence seems to thrive in this season, especially the birds of prey that make up such a high percentage of Garrigue wildlife – Peregrine Falcon, buzzards and Sparrow-hawks being the most popular.

Whilst it is thankfully very rare to see either a viper or an adder in the Garrigue, la couleuvre de Montpellier is quite frequent and loves the high incidence of dry stone walls on offer in The Gard. Whilst it looks menacing, at about a third of a metre in length, four centimeters wide and a colour to match its favourite habitat, it is harmless. My father used to chop them up and fry them as a remedy for ill health!

I will finish by highlighting three problems – two all-year-round and growing, and one definitely linked to autumn and winter, about which we can do little. Man’s presence has always been writ large in the landscapes of the Garrigue, and the current proclivity to overbuild and burden the landscape with the most ugly of breeze-block constructions masquerading as attractive Mediterranean villas is distressing, especially given the rich resources of stone in the region. This is something to note when buying in the Garrigue.

Enchanting paths through vine and village

Where man resides, pollution follows; and we see many a hiker, foreign or French, discarding rubbish on the open trails of the Garrigue that they would never dream of jettisoning whilst walking in the Cevennes. Strange but true!

Finally, beware of late starts as you may find yourself running the last hour of the day to get to the next village before dusk hits. The light at the end of an autumn day in Garrigue is special, as the sun shines its remaining energy like a golden torch over the sun-kissed limestone hills and valleys. But these visual delights are relatively short-lived and soon forgotten if you are half way between villages without a headlamp.

Such problems are commonplace, amongst poorly-prepared hikers flying in from around Europe and beyond, so do make sure that your walking tours in France are well planned - which should mean using locally-based hiking specialists to organize your walking. If you want to get the best out of your limited stay, don’t cut corners and put yourself at risk. It’s just not worth it. Despite 30 years experience of walking in France, I wouldn’t dream of arranging a trip to the Scottish Highlands by myself and would always use a Scottish-based firm to book my accommodation and plan my itinerary.

Bonne marche!

Marcel Germain

If you wish to see Provence and The Languedoc at its best, you have to hike it in Autumn or Fall. Why? Well, firstly, the summer hikers have just left and the over-trodden trails return to their more natural state of complementary and unorthodox thoroughfares for the informed hiker.

The leafy banks of the Canal du Midi

We all know that it is too hot to walk in the summertime in southern France and that only mad dogs and Englishmen do it. I do not wish to criticize those who genuinely cannot arrange their walking holiday in France at some other time due to the general constraints of work and life. Nevertheless, the hot, dry conditions can take a heavy toll on both experienced and casual hiker alike. Your feet will swell, especially if your footwear is inappropriate, and can you carry the three litres of water on your back, amongst other things, that the French Hiking Federation suggests is essential for a day’s hiking? The pollen burden can be high and this summer has witnessed something of a ‘plague’ of flies in southern France. Camping is unpleasant and restaurants and hotels bloated. No, the good restaurant doesn’t change when you dine out on a Saturday night – but wouldn’t you rather be at the same place mid-week, when the staff are better able to welcome you as opposed to being rushed off their feet?

Twenty million French claim to hike. Most French walking associations take a sabbatical from late June till early September, despite ninety per cent of French people being obliged to take August off ! They don’t go hiking, but swarm to the coast, making hiking in places like The Camargue almost impossible and defeating the objective of one’s exercise – to witness the fragility of this biosphere, not accentuate its problems. It’s Merton’s ‘self-fulfilling prophesy’ writ large and no-one is blameless. Just as companies should organize their staff’s working days so as not to choke the roads at rush hour, so too should governments intervene and incentivize, encouraging firms and their employees to take their main holidays off-peak.

Flaneuring by vineyards at dusk

The French are joined by many other nationalities, of course, and it is pointless to list them, but they know who they are. And many clutter the motorways in their camper vans en route to The Med. or its hinterland, where they litter the littoral and garnish the garrigue with the packaging and remains of food-stuffs brought from Northern Europe. So much for responsible tourism contributing to the local economy of visited countries. But I digress…this article is supposed to be about the delights of walking in autumn.

Almost as soon as the camper vans hit the auto-routes on August 20, so the hiking trails, along with the hotels and restaurants along their route, return to their normal welcoming selves. There’s not much left in the way of nutrition for the flies, either, who seem to take pity on the autumnal trekker and their leaner backpacks.

The ruddy hue of an autumnal vine

Summer hikers talk of stone villages where life seems to have stopped and aliens have taken away all the children. These same villages suddenly burst into life when temperatures are more tolerable and the tidal swell of mass tourism recedes to more acceptable levels. Then you’ll be able to ask the locals about the forthcoming wine harvest, la vendange, and whether it’s been a good year for tomatoes or figs. They’ll be delighted to share experiences with you and answer your questions on their alternative lifestyles.

The colours on show in the autumnal palette are a wonder to behold. You’ll doubtless have your own preferences, but mine are the red leaves on some vines and the strawberry tree, L’Arboussier. This latter bears fruit in October, and with its selective spectral focus on yellow, orange and red hues, it is truly a special feature of the Cevennes that adds value to any autumnal trek. Finally, whether you have an eye for painting or photography, the light at the end of the day of an autumnal hike is something to which no canvass or camera can do justice.

The arboussier in fruit

I have seen British websites and others run by lost American soles talking of their desire to show you, the Francophile hiking enthusiast, ‘La France profonde,’ ‘the real France’ or get you ‘off the beaten track,’ as if it were theirs to give you on a plate and available all-year-round. It isn’t on both counts, but you can be empowered to enjoy it for yourself, which is where I must leave you and Walking in Languedoc takes over.

Jacques Costeaud