Arles. March 31, 2011

I am eating outside at a little restaurant in Vieux Arles. Just ahead of me is the Roman arena, to the left is the amphitheater, and at ten o'clock is a Roman gate with one arch covered in wisteria. Overhead in a great vine, birds are chirping non-stop.
Getting here was easy enough: airport to Gare de Lyon, TGV to Avignon, bus to Arles. In case anyone ever needs to get from the airport to Gare de Lyon, it's RER B to Chatelets des Halles, then RER A to Gare de Lyon.
Tonight I'm staying at the youth hostel. Like many institutions they've had to relax their membership criteria.
Best wishes to all. I will drink a toast to you all every time that I have a vin rouge.
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Getting here was easy enough: airport to Gare de Lyon, TGV to Avignon, bus to Arles. In case anyone ever needs to get from the airport to Gare de Lyon, it's RER B to Chatelets des Halles, then RER A to Gare de Lyon.
Tonight I'm staying at the youth hostel. Like many institutions they've had to relax their membership criteria.
Best wishes to all. I will drink a toast to you all every time that I have a vin rouge.
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Day 1. April 1, 2011. Arles to Saint-Gilles-le-Gard (22 kms).

This was a very different first day from that of the Chemin du Puy – very flat and on the bitumen all the way. It was certainly a path less trodden. Usually when a grande randonnée follows a road the walkers have trodden a track alongside, but not today. I passed one couple and saw no one else en chemin. At the hostel tonight we are four, and there may be a few more in chambres d'hôtes or hotels. So there shouldn't be a problem with accommodation in the days ahead.
On leaving Arles, I passed an amusing bilingual sign. Under "Au revoir. A bientot" was "See you soon. Good-bye".
By the way, if you are reading this blog, you won't be overwhelmed with text. I'm tapping it out on my iPod Touch. I have to be very careful because it anticipates what I'm going to say and often gets it wrong. It had me down as having walked 22mm.
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On leaving Arles, I passed an amusing bilingual sign. Under "Au revoir. A bientot" was "See you soon. Good-bye".
By the way, if you are reading this blog, you won't be overwhelmed with text. I'm tapping it out on my iPod Touch. I have to be very careful because it anticipates what I'm going to say and often gets it wrong. It had me down as having walked 22mm.
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Day 2. April 2, 2011. Saint Gilles-le-Gard to Gallargues-le-Montueux.

Apologies to those of you who are receiving these posts by email. I intended merely to send you a link in case you were interested, not to plonk myself in your inbox.
Less bitumen today. I was happy to walk along some minor roads and farm lanes.
Usually les grandes randonnées follow roads and vehicle tracks, whereas in England the national trails follow the public footpaths. No other country seems to have the same ancient pedestrian rights of way joining villages. Not to mention the bridle paths. Why did these not develop in Europe? There are so many words for different kinds of walking in English. Trudging, plodding, staggering, lumbering, ambling, etc. (I do all of these.) Is there a connection between the abundance of public footpaths and the rich vocabulary of walking? Has walking become part of the English character because of these public footpaths? It certainly features in the literature. Mr. Earnshaw walked 50 miles to fetch the baby Heathcliff. Angel Clare and his mates were on a walking tour when he sees Tess for the first time. And Mr Gardiner is happy to take a ten-mile turn around Pemberly. Is there as much walking in French literature?
At a bar in Vauvert I was served coffee in a cup with a hollow underneath which fitted over a mound in the saucer. How effective for shaky hands!
French kissing puzzles me. When greeting or parting, the French will kiss each other once, twice, thrice or four times on the cheeks. Sometimes it depends on the region, but often other factors come into play as well. I watched a woman arrive at the bar and greet her friends or acquaintances. She went around the table giving four kisses to each person. Then she came to the last and gave him only three. What was different about him to merit one kiss less?
In Le Puy two years ago I watched several individuals in turn approach others already seated at the table. The first woman kissed one person twice and then shook hands with the rest of the group. The next woman kissed one person once and the rest three times. The third kissed everyone twice. How does it work?
After Vauvert I was threatened by three dogs. I told them I love dogs but that made them worse. I had to walk backwards for a hundred yards lest they nip me in the calves. I could have done with a couple of walker's poles. These were not the first aggressive dogs I've encountered in France.
Then I walked by another French phenomenon: the cinder block wall topped with broken glass. Along the top of a stretch of wall 200 yards long, some one had painstakingly embedded in cement about 4,000 pieces of broken bottles, jagged edges up. And what was inside? All I could see were rusty old vehicles.
In contrast, I saw my first poppy today. Just one. And lots of beautiful iris.
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Less bitumen today. I was happy to walk along some minor roads and farm lanes.
Usually les grandes randonnées follow roads and vehicle tracks, whereas in England the national trails follow the public footpaths. No other country seems to have the same ancient pedestrian rights of way joining villages. Not to mention the bridle paths. Why did these not develop in Europe? There are so many words for different kinds of walking in English. Trudging, plodding, staggering, lumbering, ambling, etc. (I do all of these.) Is there a connection between the abundance of public footpaths and the rich vocabulary of walking? Has walking become part of the English character because of these public footpaths? It certainly features in the literature. Mr. Earnshaw walked 50 miles to fetch the baby Heathcliff. Angel Clare and his mates were on a walking tour when he sees Tess for the first time. And Mr Gardiner is happy to take a ten-mile turn around Pemberly. Is there as much walking in French literature?
At a bar in Vauvert I was served coffee in a cup with a hollow underneath which fitted over a mound in the saucer. How effective for shaky hands!
French kissing puzzles me. When greeting or parting, the French will kiss each other once, twice, thrice or four times on the cheeks. Sometimes it depends on the region, but often other factors come into play as well. I watched a woman arrive at the bar and greet her friends or acquaintances. She went around the table giving four kisses to each person. Then she came to the last and gave him only three. What was different about him to merit one kiss less?
In Le Puy two years ago I watched several individuals in turn approach others already seated at the table. The first woman kissed one person twice and then shook hands with the rest of the group. The next woman kissed one person once and the rest three times. The third kissed everyone twice. How does it work?
After Vauvert I was threatened by three dogs. I told them I love dogs but that made them worse. I had to walk backwards for a hundred yards lest they nip me in the calves. I could have done with a couple of walker's poles. These were not the first aggressive dogs I've encountered in France.
Then I walked by another French phenomenon: the cinder block wall topped with broken glass. Along the top of a stretch of wall 200 yards long, some one had painstakingly embedded in cement about 4,000 pieces of broken bottles, jagged edges up. And what was inside? All I could see were rusty old vehicles.
In contrast, I saw my first poppy today. Just one. And lots of beautiful iris.
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Day 3. April 3, 2011. Gallargueux-le-Montueux to Montpellier.

Today was hard. With all the wrong turns I took, I walked a good 40 kms.
Still overcast, but no rain yet.
For a while I walked along a Roman road, treading where the legions trod.
Walking through a wood, I passed a group of pilgrims, about a dozen or so, men and women, who were making their way slowly towards Santiago. They were camping every weekend and reckoned it would take them four years.
Then I got lost.
A word about signage. In England the trails are marked with their own emblem. The Pennine Way, I think, is marked with an acorn. In France, however, les grandes randonnées (GRs) are all marked the same, with a white horizontal stripe on top of a red one. To indicate a turn, a white inverted L is added below to produce the effect of a 3-striped flag on a pole, with the direction of the flag indicating the turn. And the road not to be taken is marked with a red and white cross.
You still have to be alert. If you are talking to someone or are lost in your thoughts, you can miss the turn and keep on going. Or sometimes sections of the trail are poorly marked. I took a wrong turning several times today, adding three or four kilometres to a very long walk.
Another problem can arise when two GRs cross. On the Chemin de Stevenson, I took the wrong GR and walked 11 kms out of my way in rain and sleet.
Broom is starting to appear. I also noticed some crocuses and more poppies, yellow and orange this time.
Click here to follow the next section of the journey.
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For a while I walked along a Roman road, treading where the legions trod.
Walking through a wood, I passed a group of pilgrims, about a dozen or so, men and women, who were making their way slowly towards Santiago. They were camping every weekend and reckoned it would take them four years.
Then I got lost.
A word about signage. In England the trails are marked with their own emblem. The Pennine Way, I think, is marked with an acorn. In France, however, les grandes randonnées (GRs) are all marked the same, with a white horizontal stripe on top of a red one. To indicate a turn, a white inverted L is added below to produce the effect of a 3-striped flag on a pole, with the direction of the flag indicating the turn. And the road not to be taken is marked with a red and white cross.
You still have to be alert. If you are talking to someone or are lost in your thoughts, you can miss the turn and keep on going. Or sometimes sections of the trail are poorly marked. I took a wrong turning several times today, adding three or four kilometres to a very long walk.
Another problem can arise when two GRs cross. On the Chemin de Stevenson, I took the wrong GR and walked 11 kms out of my way in rain and sleet.
Broom is starting to appear. I also noticed some crocuses and more poppies, yellow and orange this time.
Click here to follow the next section of the journey.
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