Excursions
We should enjoy our precious snow in France, even though it seems that the UK has ground to a melodramatic standstill – as I type it is the dark days of February 2nd – with Radio 4 offering the standard doom and gloom.
However most of us lucky contributors to the fine site of AMB live here year round, and despite a bit of huffing and puffing about the state of the grey skies – we are very lucky – really – soon the skies WILL be blue again.
In the tyre-treads of the Monte Carlo Rally through the Col de Turini from Sospel to La Bollène–Vésubie
The title of this article is far from unique. It’s sinister application refers to a pivotal moment in the ascendancy of Adolph Hitler, but in its slightly more benign application it refers to an exciting stage in the world’s most famous car rally. It also leads us into an exploration of the some of the magnificent mountain scenery, and villages in the back country of the Riviera.
Four months into my newly acquired Provençal life, I decided to embark on another one of my many adventures in the Luberon. I'm never alone in these wonderful endeavors: I'm always accompanied by my boyfriend Bryan, as together we forge our way into French life. On this particular weekend, we were searching for some solitude, an escape from the daily barrage of merchants and shoppers on the streets of Aix-en-Provence. We decided to make our way deep into the Luberon and spend one more day mountain biking and other, exploring the enchanted ochre quarries of the so-called: “Colorado of the Luberon”.
The many visitors who swarm to the Riviera don’t often seem to think about escaping to the cooler climes and magnificent scenery of the Mercantour. Of those who do, about 75% of them head to the fêted, with good reason, Vallée des Merveilles where a fascinating 37000+ Bronze Age rock carvings embellish the valley floor, under the imposing Mount Bego.
The Red Hot Chilli Peppers are blasting out (“Step from the road to the sea to the sky and I do believe what we rely on”) and the Haribo pick and mix sweeties are being passed around the dive boat. Everybody is digging in to get the sugar levels up and the taste of salt water out of their mouths. Semi-euphoric smiles and light hearted banter all round.
As far as I know, none of the trendy ‘One Million Places To Be Seen In Before You Shuffle Off This Mortal Coil’ gives mention to Cabasson. This is a relief. Cabasson is a secret worth preserving.
It's difficult to say how many times I've driven from Nice Airport along the beautiful curve of the Baie des Anges to Cours Saleya and noticed, out of the corner of my eye, signs to Parc Floral Phoenix. Finally, in September of last year, six years after living on the French Riviera, I finally made it and, as so many times before, I ask myself why it takes me so long to discover these remarkable pearls.
Last Updated ( Thursday, 05 June 2008 08:14 )
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