Travel
I'm lucky enough to travel a lot but I also aim to understand a place in some depth. So I like to find out about the local history, sociology, wildlife and local arts. I prepare for a trip by looking up photos of the famous sights, they're usually a good guide both about the local visual interest and also a warning of what has already been done or over-done.
I try to use the tools of modern photojournalism and photography to communicate how I feel about a place. You’ll see that I have used Portrait, Street, Interior, Historical, Abstract, Landscape, Historical, Wildlife, Phone-camera and Selfie genres at different times for specific effects.
Aigues Mortes in the Camargue was an important sea port and the setting off point for several of the thirteenth century crusades. But silt from the Rhône blocked the sea channels and the trade transferred to Sète and Marseille. Much the same story as with the Cinque Ports on the English Channel. Thus Aigues Mortes remains a curiosity, relatively untouched by development (though the city authorised the demolition of a thirteenth century building as recently as the nineteen fifties).
We enjoyed a stay in a comfortable hotel alongside one of the canals, with the strange juxtaposition of boats in an otherwise suburban view. The name Aigues Mortes seems to be derived from Latin meaning “dead water”, ie no running water, so no drinking water for ships.
Mont Aigoual (1565 m.) is a granite rock on the watershed between the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. The name is reminiscent of both eagle and water in Occitan and French: it rains a lot and there are eagles. The slopes were controversially reforested to assure water for the southwest of France; a weather station, looking very much like a castle, was built on the summit and has been manned since the eighteen nineties.
Most of the measurements are now made by automatic instruments. There's a museum of meteorological instruments but disappointingly scarce information about modern forecasting.
The guides say that on a fine day you can see both Mt Blanc in the Savoie Alps and the high peaks of the Pyrénées but that must be at a crisp clear dawn rather than the midday mist of late summer. Even so, you still have the fantastic feeling of being on top of the world.
We came down the wooded valley of the Hérault towards the heat of the Mediterranean.
Across the watershed to where the river Tarn contributes to the Atlantic. Deeper, wider gorges than the Ardèche and even more sparsely populated. A different architecture telling the story of a land that has suffered of many wars.
Dramatic limestone gorges carved deep and liable to flash floods, the road along the top of the river Ardèche is renowned for the view contrasting between the helm oak scrubland and the meandering gorge. Distinct from Provence but still architecturally related: the Ardèche flows in to the Rhône and hence the Mediterranean.
A weekend with Pascal checking out routes of some of the motorbike itineraries the forthcoming GLME motorbike camp, which is being organised by the French club AMA.
From our base in Chorges, Pascal and I checked out routes to the dam of the river Drac at Le Sautet in Champasaur, the Col du Noyer (1664 m) and the valley of the river Béoux. And the impressive citadel and powder store of Mont Dauphin, built by the engineer Vauban.
Unfortunately, we didn't have time to enjoy the stunt bike meet at Dévoluy. Maybe another year...
