It was a restless night, we both kept searching for a comfortable position, listening to the sounds outside. As the wind ruffled the tent, I was happy to be tucked in my wonderfully warm sleeping bag.
The morning came, as it always does, brisk and clean and all new. The sunlight smacked my sleepy eyes and forced me awake. A graving for coffee was next in line and soon enough the stove was set up and water beginning to boil. After some hot breakfast and coffee we were ready to head off.
This would be our last day of hiking. The trail, which had appeared in front of us yesterday would follow the ridge all the way down to the GR10 again. The beautiful undulating ridge was basking in the sunlight, promising an easy way home.
And easy it was. Beautiful as well. We were so relieved to see the more demanding parts of the trail disappearing behind us. The trail walked us past a few smaller peaks, until leading us to a magnificent broad saddle, littered with tiny blooming heathers and other small flowers. I have never seen such a large saddle, it was like walking across a football field, high up on a mountain ridge!
After useless loitering on the wide open plain, we had to start going again. Up onto the last peak of the hike. It was a gentle mountain, that one. Not so high anymore, soft and round. But from the top we got a great overview of the whole trail and all the peaks we had conquered.
On the other side of the peak the ridge continued to be beautiful. With softly tumbling meadows on one side and plummeting cliffs on the other. All this was topped off by a small herd of young horses wandering around the mountain meadows, all wild and free.
The downwards journey advanced swiftly, soon we found ourselves below the tree line and in the middle of wild blueberries. The best hiking snacks there are! all in all our descent was fairly uneventful, we started to meet some other hikers, going the opposite way, and on GR10 it got almost crowded. I was starting to feel increasingly ill. A loud humming in my ears, blocked nose and difficulties to find my balance were making the last meters to our car little bit less of an enjoyable journey.
I was happy to see our car again. Always after a hike it seems like a promise of comfort, at least a soft seat to lay your buttocks on. But it is bittersweet happiness, since the car takes us away from the mountains too. Plus it is so hot you could bake eggs inside.
As we drove down the serpentine, my ears were blobbing between blocked and open and blocked again. Waffle was demanding I go to a doctor. I hate going to doctors, but Waffle went on and found one in a tiny village called Piolenc, the capital of garlic. We were confident that a doctor, even in the south of France, will speak English. We were wrong. Plenty of confusion, translating and hand signals later I got a diagnose of ear infection and a long prescription for all sorts of medicine. Maybe indeed I had been sick enough for the doctor’s visit.
That turned our the planning for the rest of our holiday upside down. I always become extremely feeble with antibiotics, so hiking was pretty much off the menu. Luckily we were not too far from the second home of Waffle’s parents’, which happened to be empty at the time. We retreated there to medicate me in peace and comfort.
The house is in the beautiful gorge of the Ardèche, so the situation was not bad at all. We spent a couple of nights there and during the days we searched for places to skinny dip in the rivers. And there are plenty of those! Every corner of the river hides new secrets. The water is crystal clear and and there are plenty of small pools created by water to the soft limestone. It is nicely refreshing to take a dive in a small pool of cool water in the heat of over 30 degrees. From the northern areas of the nature park of Monts d’Ardèche we even found a beautiful set of cascades!
This holiday was creeping to an end and once again we had to get onto the road and off towards home. We were on the move early enough to make a stop and be tourists. I had realized with my antibiotic-infused brain, that our route went via the Burgundy wine region. Hooray, something new for us! Quick Googling pointed out one excellent, small vineyard, Parigot et Richard, making Crémant de Bourgogne in the town of Savigny-lès-Beaune.
Turned out, Savigny lès Beaune was not at all shabby village. The houses were very French, built out of pale stone and the streets were tidy and after every corner you walked by a vineyard or two. We wandered into one of those, just by random.
We were welcomed by a man, a happy man who apparently had been in the process of tasting his own produce. He sat us at his table and started pouring wine. White and red, fairly dry, both of them. He was clearly not in favor of mixing grapes, so all his bottles were containing 100% of Pinot Noir, Chardonnay or Aligoté. Perfectly good wines, so we walked out of there with a couple of boxes and left the man himself giggling in his own reality.
After that, we actually managed to get to the house I had found earlier with Google. They were busy at work; the harvest had started ahead of time, thanks to the exceptional weather. But they did manage to squeeze us in, when they heard we were in the region only for that afternoon.
And oh boy, was I happy they did! Their selection of sparkling wines was exquisite. Bottles containing Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and Aligoté in harmonious quantities offering quite refreshing tastes. Waffle accidentally compared the product to Champagne, which was a mistake; these people clearly have a pride of their own. The wine maker was slightly insulted, remembering to mention, that the grapes of Champagne are actually from the Burgundy region! After chatting and tasting we left happily with a few boxes of sparkling gold.
After a the wine found its way to the car, we went for a walk to clear our heads, so we could hit the road safely again. We circled the town, found some vineyards and plenty of old war planes deposited into a garden of a castle. Quite a surprise that was!
An hour or so later, we got driving again for the last leg of our journey to home. Car full of wines, heads full of happy memories. We were both so glad that we finally got to do a longer hike in such a beautiful setting, even though the start of the holiday hadn’t been too promising.
