It felt like I had been doing little else other than traveling lately, but the situation was near idyllic. The descent of the holy spirit upon the apostles had granted us yet another long weekend. Verdon was one of the many destinations that I had earmarked before moving to Europe as a “must do”; I had been saving the trip for a long weekend that was neither in the depths of winter nor the scorching heat of summer. With a mid-May Pentecost, it was the perfect time to take say yes, I can(yon).

Access and a bomber arrival

The Verdon river starts deep in the French Alps and meanders its way east before joining with the Durance. Not far before the confluence of the rivers sits the Verdon Gorge: a deep limestone ravine with an impossibly turquoise vein of water separating the 700 metre cliffs. The destination is a common sight taken in by people driving to/from Nice or Cannes to/from inland Provence. Unfortunately, many people admire its beauty from inside their car. Whilst there is no shortage of things to do, especially hiking, climbing and kayaking, access to the area (and most of the state of Ales-de-Haute-Provence) is fairly limited.
Coming from Paris, the closest TGV station was Aix-en-Provence, where we had originally hoped to catch a bus to Verdon. Such a bus exists but is infrequent and still leaves you far from your destination. Further information on the routes is available but we could not find a way to make it work. If one were coming from the Côte d’Azur, it would be possible to take a train from Nice to the nearby town of Saint-André-les-Alpes (a steam train no less), but the problem of local transport around the area is still a problem. Ultimately, we decided to rent a car - which is against our normal travel policy, so should indicate how difficult it is to get around - which was really quite affordable; the vehicle was rented through this site, the cheapest I could find.

Being a long weekend, packed trains were filing out of Gare de Lyon every 20 minutes destined for the Mediterranean. Normally this would not warrant a mention as it’s fairly standard, but when a suspect package is found at the end of the line in Marseille, closing the station and rendering the trains immobile, it takes a long time for the backed up traffic to filter through. Consequently, I arrived a few hours late - 20 minutes before the rental shop was scheduled to close. Mia had also been delayed from Geneva, but not quite so badly; I found her tucked away reading out the front of the station. Fortunately, picking up the car was a streamlined process and, avoiding Aix completely, we were soon straight onto the tollway headed for the canyon. It was well dark by this time and there was surprisingly little traffic around, making the dark and windy roads very atmospheric. We passed though some small and seemingly beautiful provincial towns, but it was hard to say as they were dimly lit and not too much was happening. After an hour or so, we started descending rapidly down a sequence of hairpin bends to arrive at Moustiers-Sainte-Marie, a town so pretty it has won the accolade of ‘prettiest town in France’ multiple times. We had assumed it would be easy to find a campground here, as there were three or four shown on Google maps, however it was not quite so simple. In effect, there is a single large campground, Camping le Galetas, which has a pay-by-card after-hours boomgate to provide late arrivals such as ourselves with a pile of sharp rocks to sleep on. Thankfully, the surrounding sites were filled with loud people with a wish to party all night.

To and fro

We were awoken early by our neighbours, but embraced our wake-up call. Our plan for the day was to go kayaking, but before we could get down to business, we had some train troubles to deal with. A small error with the date meant that Mia was scheduled to return to Geneva on Sunday evening rather than Monday evening. This was incompatible with our plans, so we had had to change the ticket - which meant finding an SNCF boutique. With some patchy reception, I managed to get Google to find us the closest station: Corbières, which was 75 km in the direction of Aix. We sucked it up and headed back the way we had come, which did have the benefit of allowing us to see the towns that we had driven through late at night.

The trip was uneventful up until we were approaching the destination via the Pont de Mirabeau, crossing the impressive river over the Durance that marked our entry into Vaulcuse. As we approached the spot Google was directing us to, it became clear that there was no station at Mirabeau, just a dilapidated building, abandoned long ago. But by this point it was only 10 km to Manosque, a much larger town and a train station that was sure to be serviced.

A few crazy roads later we were parked at the station, which was indeed serviced but not all that regularly, so that each arriving train was a big deal. There were quite a few people requiring attention so we were waiting quite a while; SNCF service people can never be accused of being too efficient. They can be accused of being extremely helpful though, I have only ever had super friendly people that do their utmost to help out and this interaction was no different. Changing to Monday was not an issue, but changing to Monday night was harder, as it was a public holiday and everyone else also wanted to return on Monday night. So with a midday train organised, we pointed the car back to Verdon, but not before picking up a mid-morning snack from a bakery.

The drive back took us via a slightly different and enjoyable route from the first stretch, but then we joined with the road we had taken previously, which was noticeably busier. As we approached the picturesque little towns, all hell started to break loose and I slowly realised that the quiet little towns play host to markets on Saturday mornings. Nowhere was this more evident than Riez: the tiny, single-car width streets which enchant when driving in the early morning are a logistical nightmare during busy periods. Needless to say, once we had passed through and were descending to the canyon I was a much happier person. Coming down the hairpin turns in the daylight was much simpler, but also treated us to a magnificent “reveal” moment, when we rounded the final corner, exited the trees and had a complete view of the canyon, which is nothing short of spectacular.

Kayaking on the Verdon is popular and consequently, there are a few places from which you can hire kayaks. The prices are more-or-less uniform at 20 € for a couple of hours for a 2 person plastic kayak. Initially we had planned to get half a day, but the guy recommended we get a few hours and if we were still keen after that it was easy to extend it. We stuffed our lunch into our dry sack and then paddled our way upstream, into the canyon, whose entrance is guarded by walls of many hundreds of metres; it was a fantastic experience. Unfortunately, it is such an impressive place that for many people, this is the end point of their trip. There are some large caves which one can climb into and jump from into the water, which means that there is a serious traffic problem in the area - not helped by all the kayakers with no idea what they are doing, or like us, with a kayak that refuses to travel in a straight line.

Once the people thinned out, the experience became much more serene; cruising on an impossibly blue river dwarfed by stunning cliffs. We paddled upstream until we found a bit of a beach, or more accurately a pile of rocks, which had some shade to get out of the sun and to set up for lunch. As the ravine is so steep, it was not all that trivial to find a spot to stop and our spot was not particularly comfortable, although it was practical. Afterward, our bodies loaded up with food and sunscreen, we headed back downstream.

Upon exiting the canyon and paddling on the lake to the rental location, we had had our fill of kayaking - which was to my surprise, but I am thankful for the guy that was working there for suggesting we only go for a few hours, as he saved us 10 €. We returned the gear, got ourselves a well-deserved ice cream and then set off to explore the canyon further. We did not have any real plans for what to do, but were armed with the Michelin map 114: Pays Varois, Les Gorges du Verdon, which is excellent for finding points of interest (as we had discovered in Corsica. The main tourist route for the area runs along the northern side of the gorge (D952), but there is also a road on the southern side (D71) which does eventually join up to the D952, so it is possible to make a loop. Our destination was La Palud-sur-Verdon, so our vague plan was to do the loop and end up there. The first stop was Aiguines, which was another beautiful Provincial town, but which again was plagued by traffic issues, and so we just pushed through.

Along the stretch of road which follows the gorge there are very regular lookouts, and we stopped at most of them; the landscape never gets old. I managed to get the heart rate up at one point whilst taking some photos, experiencing a slip-and-slide in an area which is definitely a “no-slip” zone, but luckily this only resulted in some cuts and bruises - which was pretty good given the alternatives!

About halfway down the canyon is a lodge, nestled in a perfect spot which is clearly aimed at the upper end of the market, but there is also a cafe with great views over the area which can be accessed from the car park. Nearby is an impressive feat of engineering, le tunnel du Fayet, which is unconventional in that it has large windows which are carved out of the rock.

The next stop was the Pont de l’Artuby, where we arrived just a little too late to see people bungee jumping. We walked out to the bungee station, which was the first time I had ever looked over the edge at a location where people actually jump from and it was petrifying. I have always said that I would love to do it, but if I were strapped in and looking over the edge of the bridge there, it would be pretty difficult to leap off!

Basically the final stop in the canyon is at les Balcons de la Mescla, which is at the confluence of the Verdon and the Artuby rivers, and where the Verdon has a large horseshoe bend. It was probably the best view in the area and would be up there with the best views in France. To our dismay, the Michelin map had rated it at only 2-stars (of a possible 3), which left us in an awkward spot as we had always agreed with their ratings thus far!

The road began to descend from the plateau through which the canyon was carved and near its lowest point was the town of Trigance, which sat atop a rocky outcrop. The town felt remote for the area and it was the only town we passed without severe congestion, which would seem not to be a coincidence. The lack of people only added to the sense of remoteness, in addition to making the town even prettier.

From here we made a bee-line to La Palud-sur-Verdon, which, while it is the main town atop the canyon, is still a tiny town, with little more than a handful of restaurants, a bakery and of course, an enormous cathedral. We set up camp at Les Bourbons campsite, which is one of the nicest campsites I have ever been to. The ground was soft, covered in lush grass and the facilities were very minimal, built at the same time as the caretaker’s house which was certainly not this or last century! While the town was still light, we went exploring the town, but it was rather superficial as everything was closed, including the bakery, on which we were relying for our bread for the following day’s lunch. This stirred some concern, as one can never be sure if a shop will be open on Sunday, especially in Southern France, even more so on a long weekend. But there was nothing we could do other than hope that it would open, and open early as Sunday was the day we were hiking le Sentier Martel.

Cooking in the Canyon

The main event had arrived: le Sentier (Blanc-)Martel. A 15 km track which runs between the chalet de la Malin and the canyon entry, Point Sublime. The track forms a small section of the 1000km-long GR 4, running from Royan to Grasse, and is reputed for being the highlight. The track was forged during a hydrological survey of the area, and much of the infrastructure was developed during the early 1900s when plans for a hydroelectric power plant were in full swing. Thankfully these efforts were abandoned during World War II and the area remains mostly untouched. We were up early, the bakery was open (thankfully!), so after loading up with a baguette and our IGN topo 25 3442OT (Gorges du Verdon), we set off from La Palud-sur-Verdon.

The walk can be done either from or to Point Sublime. It is usually advised that one leaves from the chalet to avoid the sun by remaining in the shadow of the cliffs for most of the day - this would turn out to be great advice! The logistics of the beginning and end of the walk were complicated - we planned to walk the 8km along the D23 from La Palud-sur-Verdon to the official start of the walk at the Chalet de la Maline, walk the canyon from the chalet to Point Sublime, then catch a bus the 7.5km back to La Palud-sur-Verdon. The bus timetable lists just a single return time departing Point Sublime at 1630, and as we had to factor in the 8km walk to the chalet, we budgeted for an extra two hours on top of the seven recommended to complete the track. What we would come to learn is that the bus drives into La Palud-sur-Verdon and then out to the chalet, so we could have driven to the beginning of the walk and been dropped back there, but we were not to know - information about transport in this region is uncommon and usually not much use!

So we began wandering off down the road from La Palud-sur-Verdon to the chalet; there were no other people around at the time so we had the road to ourselves. We eventually saw a van driving along the road and we decided trying our luck for a hitch. To our surprise, the van, which was full with climbers, pulled over and said they could squeeze us in! They were not going all the way to the chalet, but any distance we did not have to walk was appreciated. I asked if the group was local and they said no, but once I told them we were from Australia they changed their answer, as they were from Marseille. And in a further demonstration of kindness, they passed their turnoff and dropped us at the chalet, which was much appreciated.

The chalet looked like a nice place to stay, I think primarily it is used by people wanting to undertake the walk but not wanting to camp. We did not hang around long and started the descent into the canyon. It was fairly steep, but excellently maintained with a stairway provided for most of the steeper sections, and only the bottom sections requiring a bit of slipping and sliding on the loose rock. Within 20 or so minutes, we were next to the river with an amazing view up the canyon and at a very comfortable temperature nestled amongst the trees. Having driven along the canyon the day before, we had a reasonable idea of what to expect, but seeing it from below makes everything seem much larger. The path was mostly flat, with small paths sneaking down to the river when it was accessible. These spots would make for great private swimming holes, but if anything, it was a bit too cold in the shade to make swimming attractive.

Before too long was a signpost indicating a detour to Mescla, the junction of the Verdon and Artuby rivers which had provided such incredible vistas the day before, so taking the 30-minutes-each-way detour was never in doubt. The path began to crumble more and more before becoming a pile of boulders, which were supporting a surprising amount of flora, making it all the more impressive when we broke through. There was a point-like stack of boulders, but we scrambled down to the river and sat down to relax and take in the beauty of where we were.

Returning to the main trail, a climb brought us to la Brèche Imbert, where a very narrow gap through some rocks is outfitted with a structure of six ladders possessing some 250 steps, which allow a descent of 100 or so metres. It was at about this point we started to become very exposed to the sun; the canyon had gone from east-west to north-south, so the sun was directly overhead and fiercely cooking everything in sight. Unfortunately, this was also the most exposed area, with few trees and large cliffs that had been in the sun all day and were brutally radiating heat. Adding to the pleasure was having quite some elevation relative to the river, meaning there was no way to cool off.

After walking for what felt like hours, we descended off the large rocks, and started through le défilé des Baumes-Fères. We soon came across a pebble beach, which clearly everyone else had come across too. It eventually became evident that people were walking from Point Sublime to this beach as their outing, as the beach marks the end of the more difficult section. It was a great spot for lunch, along with being a nice place to soak our feet and watch les chevesnes (European Chubs) swimming in the shallows.

Continuing after lunch, we climbed up from the beach to view the falaise de l’Escalès, one of the premier climbing spots going around, with some seriously big multi-pitch routes suited to those who enjoy being baked onto rocks. Next, we were entering the first of three tunnels, all of which were constructed during the planned hydro project, meaning they are really large and quite comfortable (as far as tunnels go). The first was le tunnel des Baumes, which is quite short, but not long after was le tunnel de Trescaïre, which is about 100 metres long and marks the point you realise that not bringing a torch was a mistake. Following on from this was le Tunnel du Baou, which at 670 metres makes you really regret that torch situation. We had even brought jumpers as we knew it would be cold in there! About halfway along was a little turn-out point with a small window, which apart from providing a blast of hot air showed us some people in floating red suits canyoning, which looked like great fun.

Upon exiting the tunnels, we had effectively finished the walk, as all that remained was a winding track leading up through a car park to the main road and the aptly named Point Sublime. Whilst we were walking up this track, we took some time to stop and chat to some Dutch people who had been asking about the hike; this is entirely unnoteworthy, but it meant that we stopped and in turn witnessed somebody walking up the rather steep stairs, but while absent-mindedly using his phone and not observing the path. The final step was a roughly half-metre rock which one cannot simply step over, so I was watching with a perverted joy, waiting for this person to walk into the rock. Not only did they walk into it, they fell over it which sent their phone flying. As there was never any danger to them, I did not feel bad for just letting it happen; it was absolutely hilarious.

A short walk would place us at Point Sublime, where there were a few people milling around, many tourists stopping by to enjoy the view and a shop selling cold drinks and icy-poles. Given the sizzling conditions, we picked up a drink and savoured every last drop. We had arrived about an hour before the bus was scheduled, which gave us ample time to try and suss out the situation. The conclusion was that there was no real system. The location for the bus was not marked, but we found a timetable attached to a post and assumed that it would be the right location, so dumped our bags. As the time approached, more and more people were coming in from the hike and the small group that was initially there had bulged into a large crowd, all of whom observed no etiquette for queuing. It turned out our guess for the bus location was correct, but nobody was willing to let us access our initial spot as this would cause them to lose their newly acquired position, where they thought the bus door would be. The sheer number of people made everybody question whether they would get a spot on the bus, to the point that a few people that had just run the track decided to take off up the road instead. We were debating whether to just walk, or maybe hitch, when the bus finally appeared. The first bit of relief was due to the fact that the bus had been upgraded from the minibus service to a full bus service, however it was still not clear if everybody would fit. Amazingly, there was a fairly ordered process for loading everyone on; we handed over 6€ for the two of us and managed to even snap up some seats. To the driver’s credit, he wanted to ensure everyone was loaded on, so with the aisle packed we were on our way. It was upon our return to town that we realised that the bus continued to the chalet, as we were the only people to get off in town - which was fun given the can of sardines we were in!

Once we were back at the campsite, we treated ourselves to a shower, and I had a bit of a chat with the owner (who was a really nice and quirky guy) before we headed out into town. Really, this means that we went to the only place in town, Lou Cafetié, a pretty relaxed bar with a climbing theme. We relaxed here for a while before the staff suggested we try a pizza from a colourful stall across the way, which we were fine to eat at the pub, and so it was done. We stayed for a while just enjoying the view, the weather and the sunset. After spending quite some time there, we headed back to the campsite, but not before calling in at “joe le snacky”, the chicken shop across the road which Mia had been psyching herself up for, but to her dismay they were out of the day’s roasts. With nothing else in town (quite literally), the urge would be left unsatisfied; however our desire to sleep was quickly and effectively extinguished.

Aixciting

As is always the case in the south, we awoke to some amazing weather. Due to the train ticket debacle, we had few plans other than getting back to the TGV station. We did have some time to spare, so Mia directed us along a scenic route, via a few small towns. Unlike the way in, the small towns were not the kind that one thinks of in Provence, but rather just little agricultural hubs. The drive took us up to some tablelands where growing wheat was definitely the primary activity. We passed a few lavender farms, but it was still a bit early for them. It became apparent during the driving that we were not getting close to Aix at the rate we needed to, and the buffer of time was starting to melt away. There is something terrible about things being out of your control, but by definition there is nothing you can do, so we were just driving along trying to get to the station as rapidly as possible. We ditched the car in a drop off spot, and ran through to the platform to see the train just pulling into the platform. Miraculously we had made it just in time; Mia jumped on the the very full train and left me with a few hours to explore Aix.

I ventured back into town and drove like a complete tourist whilst looking for a place to park. It was quickly evident that I would have to pay for parking, so I deposited the car in a large complex near the city centre and went on foot. Destination one was Cours Mirabeau, the main drag, which in the late morning on a public holiday is a pretty relaxed place. I imagine it is pretty relaxed most of the time, but everything was delightfully easy-going, with market stalls set up along the length of the street. I ambled the length of the stalls admiring the trinkets, but before long I had wandered off the path and ended up at the Cour d'Appel d'Aix-en-Provence, which was an impressive albeit unintentioned building to find. After figuring out where I was, I made my way in the direction of the Mairie d'Aix-en-Provence, and this was when exploring Aix really become a joy. The streets, the courtyards and the general ambiance of the city is something to behold. Around every corner is another beautiful laneway housing buildings with impossibly detailed facades. It was great to have the time to just wander aimlessly, something that is rare in our usual travels.

I eventually made it to the beautiful Mairie, which is only a stone’s throw from the town’s cathedral: Paroisse Cathédrale Saint Sauveur Aix-en-Provence. Started in the 12th century and completed in the 16th century with a collection of styles, this definitely is a hodgepodge of a building. It is full of charm, but you can tell that obviously things were happening in the town during its construction, causing the building to have no clear direction or destination in mind. The interior was fairly sparse, but has some amazing lighting features, including a hole in the roof to allow a single shaft of light to penetrate through the dust and incense, creating an exquisite sight.

Further exploring would have me visit Place des Cardeurs, which was pretty but much quieter than it should have been, along with the very worthwhile Rue Lieutaud. This particular street was likely the prettiest of all, and had countless vendors selling delicious treats, both savoury and sweet. Ultimately I ended up at the Fontaine de la Rotonde, which marks one end of the Cours Mirabeau. The fountain is quite striking, but it is hard to appreciate it fully as it is at the centre of a roundabout.

With a small serving of ice cream, I passed by the Paroisse Saint-Jean-de-Malte, another of the town’s notable churches; however it was closed! As I was on the way back to the car it was not a big shame, but as it is slightly out of the way, had I not had another reason to be there I would have been a little miffed.

Back at the car, I escaped the labyrinthine parking lot, performed many U-turns in an effort to find an accessible fuel station and filled up before dropping off the car at the station and heading back to Paris. This trip, and in particular the landscape of the Verdon region, remains one of the best things I did in France. It is simply not to be missed.

Adventures

Access and a bomber arrival

To and fro

Cooking in the Canyon

Aixciting