The French Hikers’ Guide to Hiking in France ™

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