Alpes-Maritimes - September 12, 2000

When I awoke the sky out our window was streaked with light pink. I took a shower and looked at the maps. I decided that Sospel was much too far for one day's hike (though Madame had said it was only six hours). I thought that Saorge looked like a better route if Madame would still drop us beyond l'Authion. At this point I heard cowbells � Madame had told us how much she enjoyed the cows and their bells (cloches) as they walked by the hotel each morning on their way to be milked. I rushed up with my camera and the cowherd we had seen the previous day brought them by accompanied by one of his dogs. After talking with madam and her husband, a large man naked to the waist who was putting down a couple of the local liquors before breakfast, we agreed on Saorge and she would drop us at the trailhead. As we approached her large Toyota I said that she had a big car and she said, "C'est obligatoire." We put our packs in the back and drove out the way we had walked the previous evening and down to the trailhead. We thanked Madame as she gave another man directions.

The trail turned out to be an easy flat dirt road which wound nearly at the top of the mountains for about eight miles. There were mountains to the south and taller ones to the east and, when we could see them, to the north. Steep grassy slopes plunged down from the trail at a 45 or 50-degree angle from our road. The grass looked terraced a little � I said from grazing and Bon from the sandstone underlying the grass � an issue that we never resolved. But we did hear the bells of a goatherd ahead of us and saw the goat tracks on the trail. We also passed more gun emplacements from the Maginot Line high on the mountain overlooking the pass to the south. It was much hotter and hazier than the previous day as we were walking on the south side of the mountains (versus the north the prior day). But the road was easy and we made good time in the early part of the day � the first three or four hours. All day, in contrast to the previous day, we went downhill very gradually and finally we came to some switchbacks. We left the road and took a path which was not very well marked but went by a couple of old stone buildings before descending around the mountain. It was very dry but there were blue thistles and another purple flower like chicory. Even the dried plants were striking and we saw wild lavender and a variety of bay leaf. The path wound through a rocky area next to a farm with many incongruous bathtubs to catch the water. We were high above Briel-sur-Roya to the south, with the Roya River below, and Saorge to the east perched on the opposite cliff. The trail looked as if it went straight down into the Roya river gorge.

At about 1:45 p.m. we stopped at a cave-like indentation by the trail which was shaded and was just adjacent to an old stone village and a terraced area. The closest house appeared to be used as a summer home and had electricity strung to it, but the rest of the village looked deserted and of a different time. I had gotten two jambon sandwiches from Madame in the morning. Together the sandwiches looked like a full flat loaf of bread the size of a large dinner plate with two thin slices of smoked ham. It was delicious glutinous bread which was tough and chewy. We had these and three green purloined plums from Bon's dinner of the night before last, an orange and the last of our beloved sesame cookies. We took off our boots and socks to aid our sore feet, had a nice picnic and rest and were back on the trail at 2:30 p.m. We struggled to find the trail, but Bon found it through the old stone village and across the terraces. It was very stony, winding and slow going all the way down to the road and Roya River, but we had rocky gorge views all the way. We finally descended to the road next to the river across from a bridge that had been washed away. We crossed another bridge to the south, taking a deserted road back up to the washed-out bridge. We were tired now having gone about 12.5 miles. It was about 4:00 p.m. Saorge was still a long way up a steep slope. We began a hot and thirsty ascent on a trail which had one long switchback up to the village. The Saorge buildings looked a little dilapidated as we neared the town but the terraces nearer the village were well kept vegetable gardens. I picked up a couple of wild figs on the path. We reached the town and, after walking up narrow streets with tall buildings on each side, we asked two women if there was a hotel. (Bon's literature which was a couple of years old said that there was one.) They said no, but that perhaps there was an �tape or hostel and that we should go and inquire at the Mairie. At first the Mairie looked closed but one door was open and upstairs (everything was further up), I found a woman who said that the only hotel was at Fontan, two kilometers up the road. We passed the two women we had asked directions of earlier and they assured us we were going in the right direction. We went north high above the Roya and passing terraced olive trees some of which reached to the road displaying very green olives. We passed an old moulin (mill) for pressing olive oil which seemed the major industry. There were views in all directions: back to Saorge on the cliffs, up a gorge to the west and another to the north. We walked down through a long tunnel which and on to the railroad station which served both Saorge and Fontan. There a teenage boy from Paris who spoke good English was waiting for the 16:08 train and it was now 16:30. I assured him that our train had been late too. We went on through another short tunnel or overpass and then downhill to Fontan. As we crossed the bridge over the Roya, I asked a woman if there was a hotel and she pointed (of course uphill) to the end of the town along the river and the Terminus Hotel.

We were shown to a pleasant room (26) on the deuzi�me �tage � third floor � with a nice shower. It overlooked the Roya at the back of the hotel. We arrived about 5:00 p.m. after about eight hours of hiking � very tired and footsore. (The pedometer read 13.33 miles, 28,720 steps and 1402 calories.) Bon got a cold bottle of fizzy water which was wonderful. After showers we walked to the end of town and back. Bon called it the Haverstraw of France (after a similar town in Rockland County, NY) � a run down river town with a busy main road running through the center of the town. I tried to call Mother with a French calling card we'd bought earlier, but no answer. Then back to the hotel restaurant where we ate a simple meal of salads and pizzas with olives on an outside patio. Then, in the dark, we wandered back to town and (with my phone book this time) we were able to reach Dad and Bon's mother. Fun to be able to talk to both of them. Afterwards, we returned to the hotel where we rubbed our sore feet and went quickly and soundly to sleep.