I'm in one more beautiful place, just before I entered a village called Sauve, on my way to Nimes. I expect to find a train to take me to Macon, from where I will cycle to Taizé. That's the only place now I want to visit on this journey in France, so I also hope I can get a train from Macon to Calais... I will see about that...I'm also hoping I will be able to cross the British Island as I didn't bring my passport, but that will be a story for another post... Hopefully a good one!
Sometimes I come a bit out of my route to find a place to sleep at night or rest during daytime as it has been over 35° Celsius these days, but most times I find hidden places where I can have enough privacy to be on my own...
Last time I wrote I was going to leave the coast and get on a train as far as I could get towards where my friend Sarah Avril lives, after Toulouse. I arrived at the train station of Tarbes, just after the famous "Lourdes", which is something like "Fatima" in Portugal. Beautiful Mountains around it from the Pyrenees. From the train I was already marvelling the landscape...the massive peaks still with snow... I couldn't wait to cycle around them.
I arrived around 9.30pm so I knew I couldn't go far. I saw a big forest just outside Tarbes and was hoping for a nice spot to lay my hammock, which I did in this "Communal forest of Semeac"... "Commons land" in English, "Baldios" in Portuguese. I saw quite a few of this "Commons" in several places until the Black Mountains and it pleased me a lot. I'm not sure how they are managed today, but I'm glad they exist.
They used to be the source of essencial resources, specially for the poorest who didn't own land and women who could make a living of it... People could pick firewood and kindling for warmth or cooking, material to make baskets and other crafts with either saplings or coppiced trees, or they could let their animals graze... unfortunately, these are all things that are not so valued anymore in our generation where most things are manufactured and sold by big companies which extract most of the materials unsustainability... I had to think a lot about our friend Julie Tomlin as she is making a whole thesis about the commons and all that it involves... She was very pleased to know about these ones in this region.
I was hoping to arrive at Sarah's on Wednesday as she told me she would be free, therefore I was more focused on my cycling and even taking car roads more than cycling sightseeing tracks. France and French drivers are actually quite thoughtful and patient with cyclists. There are a lot of them and it's so nice to cross eachother and greet with a smile.
Sarah's availability depends on her work and I surely didn't want to mess up with her schedules and life as she also has a family with a husband, Damien and their 2 beautiful kids, Joan, 13, very good on sports, specially football, and Marin, 10, the artist, as I observed.
I've been seeing a few of these Canoeing places and as they have access to a river, which I have to say is not as easy to find in France, I went in and had a look...
It was perfect, I didn't see anyone to ask permission, so I asked the place itself as I usually do and respectfully set up my camp in this little opening in the forest next to the dirt track... Next morning I made my coffee, and left it as I ve found it and started to pedal as I wanted to pass through Toulouse that day...
My only picture of Toulouse, "La Garonne", the River. It took me 2 hours to cross the city, from the western suburbs to the Eastern suburbs. I only pulled in at a kebab place when I saw the cook exhausted outside after lunch hours. I went in and asked the younger man and he pointed to the toilet at the end of the corridor, the only inside space besides the counter. The basin tap was too low for my bottles so I looked to the open door on my left and it was the kitchen with a big and deep sink... I was sure the chef wouldn't mind. I thanked him when I came out with a smile on my face and my water bottles full.
My next sleeping place was the only one, so far, when my instinct failed, and I was tricked by the description on the map... It was called a "Lac", which means Lake, but it was more like a water reservoir for farmers. When I turned into the track I hoped to have access, I met a farmer inside a massive tractor who said there is no way out, and to be careful not to go to the "lake" because it was for irrigation and it can be dangerous to swim as it has a big siphon that sucks... Well, it definitely sucked for me, especially because I went quite a way out of my route and uphill, and at the end of my day when I just wanted to stop and rest... Oh well, he told me where I could have access, but warned me again not to swim.
I got in, despite the forbidden sign as the picture shows... "Je ne parle pas français" anyway... I only had a little gap between a massive rock with a chain on one side and a ditch on the other, but when there is a will, there is a way... In this case I didn't have much of a will, but I was just exhausted and in need to stop for a night sleep.
I quickly realised I was in a hunter's training site. Possibly an Association of local men. It had a toilet and a tap outside I was hoping to have water, but no, it was off and possibly the tap was inside the locked toilet...there was a container that could have been an office, a wooden shelter with wooden seats and a table, a small wooden cabinet with glass walls on all sides that was supposed to be the trophy display, but it was all messy and trophies piled on top of each other... I kinda liked that. They were probably not in for the trophies, but for the fun... and another roof where I found out it could only be the place they would practice their shooting into flying plates as I found loads of broken clay plates all over the only strimmed grass field that was in front of that shelter and it would go all the way to the little stream that fed the reservoir...
That was not so nice, but at least it was clay. In the edge of the forest I found piles of grass cuttings mixed with plastic tubes possibly from the bullets. Not nice. I apologised to the forest for the lack of consciousness of these human hunters.
I tried to see if there was access to the wider part of the lake but the forest was covered in brambles and the only place I could access a bit further was the one in this picture... As I was getting closer with my foldable bucket, to collect water to take to my camp above, and my shirt and socks to wash, I realised a second too late that it was very slippery with clay... Before I had time to think I had my ass as well as my waist pocket filled with slimy gray clay, and my flip flops almost sinking through the clay... That's just what I needed... I had to laugh at myself, even though annoyed, the whole thing was hilarious. I calmly removed my flip flops and preferred to walk barefoot despite the bramble situation, then I saw a nice fallen tree trunk I could balance myself and go a bit further to get more depth in the water and less mud... No, I didn't fall... I made it nice and slowly. I collected water in the bucket, washed my African cloth, shirt, socks and belt with the waist pocket where everything, including money, was all dry, thankfully. I went back to the woods where I set up my camp. It was at least very private and silent which was the best of it all.
In the morning as I was preparing my coffee with almost all the drinking water I had left, I was surprised with a guy coming in with his tractor and a trailer. I waved and said "Bonjour", as you do, and he just lifted his greeting arm and continued down the strimmed field. Not sure what he had to do, but possibly just checking the stranger that came in, I don't know. He came back, lifted his arm again without saying a word and went away as if nothing was out of order... I was grateful, I guess it must be a surprise to see a middle aged women wild camping on her own and breaking in private property. I'm glad to be a woman and older just for this reason.
On the way I saw a man in his yard and asked for water which he gladly did. No one has refuse me water so far.
Anyway, I was determined to reach Sarah that day as soon as I could.
I'm taking pictures of random things that amuse me and I couldn't help it but stop to take this one... Not only are all the churches and chapels I pass closed, abandoned or left for tourism, but also what once were sacred shrines are now in the middle of farmed monocultures...in this case sunflowers, which will at least look nice.
This one I'm seeing in many places and I think it's a great idea, to switch off street lights in the night to avoid pollution and for the night birds not to be blinded by them.
Soreze was the small village before Sarah's farm house. I got there by 12 so I was very pleased. She did warned me that it was a long way uphill to her house, and only when I got to Soreze I could see what she meant... I saw the Beautiful and Majestic Black Mountain, or " Montagne Noire", smaller than the Pyrenees, but much older, said Sarah... I had 10 km up the steep hill which I did in about 2 hours, mainly walking with my bike side by side... I actually don't mind walking with the bike as she carries all the load and I can develop other muscles. I also found out that I much prefer to cycle or walk with my flip flops instead of shoes. Only if it's cold or the terrain is rough I use my working boots.
The start of the walk was tough, not because of the hill, but because of this site ...
A rock quarry that has been digging the precious and sacred Mountain for years... The noise of the machines was constant for a good while and the thought and feeling of it all was not pleasant... I know I also buy gravel and sand for building or to fix our track, but seeing this is making me question where it comes from and how it's mined.
Thankfully it passed and I continued my walk... It was also hard to hear the river all the time, knowing it was just there, but really no access to be seen... The roads are often much higher than the river banks and the edges filled with brambles...
It must have been already 5km of steep uphill when I finally saw what could have been an access to the stream... And it was.
It was a funny image of my clothes literally dropped on the ground in different places as I walked towards the stream to get myself fully immersed in this perfect pool where my whole body could fit.
I was so grateful for this precious and sacred being that is our fresh and living water in this planet... I let myself soak for a bit before moving on...
The best was coming ahead, as I was marvelling the huge majestic Oaks and Beech and the mixed forest that composed that perfect ecosystem, I suddenly see another biker ahead of me... It didn't look like other bikers as I've encountered a few, and it looked just like Sarah as I remember her. And it was... It must have been 1.30pm already and I've messaged her at 12 from Soreze. She wanted to check if I was ok and also for solidarity she decided to cycle and meet me on the road... It was precious as all our meetings have been. We both look like pretty much the same as when we met in India, with more wrinkles, but that's part of getting older. Her hair is the same, long and straight, my hair is the same with dreadlocks... I had much less luggage in India and I was walking and not biking. I only had a sleeping bag I made, stitching a zipper in my own duvet, a hammock I made with canvas I bought there and stitched the ends for a rope to pass through at the top and bottom. a book to write, a stainless container to get water, a pot to cook and a chapati plate... Then some stones, feathers and bones I would find in the wild, and my walking stick with feathers hanged on them.
I was 22, Sarah was 21, and that journey, in 1997 shaped our lives until today. That's when I started to feel the presence of a Greater Spirit guiding me and protecting me, mainly speaking to me through Nature. That was also my first alone experience of wild camping and being minimal and low cost traveller. Sarah, besides being a mum, a fascia therapist and a good musician, she has been dedicating her life since that first visit to India to teach a traditional dance from Rajasthan, where she goes frequently and where she found a family she loves and cares for dearly.
It's a beautiful old farm house, 2 stories and a loft, with beautiful flowers, herbs and a veggie garden that Sarah plants and tends to, bees that Damien looks after and harvests delicious honey and propolis, and an amazing barn with all the tools and machines a farm needs. Damien is a mechanic engineer and I could see his engineering mind when he showed me his invention to catch Asiatic Wasps who are killing his bees... I loved it, he seems to be one of those that will find solutions for everything...The land is not so big, but who needs a lot of land when you live in such an abundant natural ecosystem. They are within a protected area and on the edge of the "common forest", so they also have a lot of restrictions when it comes to building which they totally understand.
I felt very privileged to be hosted by this beautiful family as they are not an open place as we are at Mount of Oaks. They are a family and their focus now is to raise their kids as best as possibly, as parents do, and to have a quiet place to come back to from work, surrounded with a natural ecosystem and far from city life. They are doing it quite well.
The kids are getting into their teenage years so they are not such fans of off-grid living and composting toilets, but hey, they will get over it one day. They go to school in the local town and Joan, the 13 year old son, goes already on his own, in the bus that stops at the end of their lane. He is quite cool. As my french is limited and I noticed he is a bit shy, like me, I tried to connect through football and I guess he was impressed I could do some nice kicks at my age... I enjoyed playing with him... Marin is younger and he seemed to like drawing and he would be often in his own world, happy doing his own thing. We all played badminton too. That was fun! But I hurt my middle toe. It's almost healed now.
On Wednesday evening they were going to the local town, Revel, to meet their local friends and have a rehearsal to play the following Sunday. Everywhere in France, during solstice, every village has a celebration with music. They are not professional, but they have been practicing together for some years once a week and I could see the deep and sincere relationship and love they all have for one another. I was blown away to be invited to their rehearsal.
Suddenly , after weeks pedaling on my own, I found myself in the yard of Lisa's house, one of their friends who played the accordion in the group. I got to listen to quite nice folk music played by this closed group of friends I never met before.
Sarah was playing another accordion and so was Olivier and Lisa as I mentioned.
Damien was in the fiddles, he had 2 in different notes, and he was really good. No wonder he loves Irish music.
Frederick was great with the guitar, Catherine on the violin and Noel in the clarinet. Hannah got a bit late to join with percussions and I could even play along and gently accompanied them with a nice Madagascar drum Lisa brought from inside.
Can you imagine? It was beautiful. They don't practice so much, so they need to rehearse on Saturday again before their gig on Sunday, but they are all so good in their instruments.
They will also make a bike trip with kids and all through a trail I'm so glad Sarah mentioned to me.
Actually I'm very grateful for all the tips Sarah gave me for my route, I even just passed today the place she was born, on the Cévennes Mountain Range, another stunning wonder of Nature.
I had all day Thursday for myself, to dive deep into rest and writing while they were all out, working and at school. I washed myself and all my clothes, charged up all my electric devices, ate some nice leftovers and washed the dishes even though they have a washing machine. I can't help it.
Another amazing day and really nice chats with Sarah. It's very interesting this relationship. It's our 4th encounter in 29 years, the last one was maybe 24 years ago in Lisbon, and we don't keep in touch often either, but it's like we are sisters for long time. A kindred spirit. There was some strong experience we shared in India that I think will connect us forever. It's too long of a story to share here, but she saved me somehow from what could have been a not so nice experience for me. I will be forever grateful for her crossing my path at just the right moment. She is a very precious being and I'm very pleased to know her.
They all got invited to come to MoO in Portugal, so let's see when will our next encounter be. I hope in less than 24 years.
The nice thing of biking is that, after every uphill, comes a downhill...whoop whoop! Down I went!
I even found my first open church... Finally, as it should be. Saint John called my attention. I have the feeling he might be my patron saint, because of his calling, and the way he lived - out of the system and out of religion. A wild Essene. It's his day tomorrow by the way. Happy Saint John s day.
I entered, prayed and asked a blessing for my journey and took some holy water from the sink. I saw no-one. Only a sign to keep silence and turn the sound off the mobile phone. Simple, as it should. A house of prayer for all who want to come in and be still... Why can't we find this more often?
I got to the town where the "green trail" was starting as Sarah suggested and stopped one more time for supplies. I had a lovely encounter with this gentle man, Laurent with 69 years old, and we were both appreciative of each others settings in our bikes. He was obviously a pro and on this for many years which I'm very pleased to know. I loved his design and I got some ideas.
The track was beautiful and easy. An old and unused train track converted into an 80km bike and walk lane, mostly flat and easy for beginners and children. Perfect for their group of friends with their kids.
I was just glad to get so many kilometres in a day and a half. From there to my next destination, "Le Salagou", were only 36km more, so I was there in the evening to find my spot.
And what a spot. I enjoyed the evening and spent most day next day, as it was too good to just spend the night.
What was coming next was not so bad either, but I wanted to get to Nimes on the 24th to go to Taizé, insha'Allah by train, so I did move on from another river I fell in love with, the Hérault. Pictures will speak for themselves now
I slept on another canoe place as you might have noticed. There was people there this time. The working team that seemed to be wrapping up the day. I asked if I could pitch my hammock and spend the night and they were very promptly showing me where to go... I said "Merci beaucoup" , went away and did my thing ... I was longing all day to swim in this deep green bluish river, the Hérault.
It's 5.30pm now, I will throw myself in this fresh water again and around 7pm I will cycle maybe 30km more until a river just before Nimes. Tomorrow morning I would only need to cycle less than 20km so I can go to the station and find out about which trains I can take my bike in.
Blessings to all .
Thanks for reading and encouraging me to write.
Next post I would like to share about my journey with Emma to Israel/Palestine in Autumn. You can click on the link of "Tent of Nations"on the right side to know where we will be going .
On the post, I will share how could you support this project if you are interested.
Salaam.
Shalom.
Peace.
Paz.
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