Blog 4 2019

    Written 25^th September 2019

    Two things happened since we last wrote in early July.

        We had another heatwave, this time up to 43ºC (109ºF)

         Virtually all the canal system in central France closed due to lack of water 

         and left many stranded with only 10 days notice.

Since the 26^th July we have been trapped in our home port between 2 closed locks, for the duration of the season. 2 ‘dry’ winters are responsible and we hope this changes before next year, so we can travel again.

So, after a brief return home during August, we came back to France and drove down to the South of France to visit an English friend with an old barge on the Canal du Midi which, strangely, is still open along with one or two sections of other canals. Obviously the rivers are navigable, if you can reach them.

The journey itself was one of the best road trips I have ever had, once we had got the first days travel behind us and left the extinct volcanoes of the Puy de Dôme in central France behind us.

The A75 AutoRoute from Clermont-Ferrand to Montpellier is a marvel of engineering and stunning landscapes through the Cantal, Lozère, Aveyron and Tarn départements to the Med. In Hérault.

As we entered the motorway the TomTom announced ‘keep straight on for the next 340 kilometres’ and we relax with the superb smooth surface and quiet traffic level of the motorway.

For the next 4 hours or so, the road repeatedly climbs to over 1200 metres (higher than Snowdon) with pine-clad hillsides dotted with cattle and sheep, then plunges down sweeping bends with escape lanes and huge signs  recommending drives to ‘engage engine braking’.

I disengaged the automatic gearbox and did so several times to save my brakes as the slopes were steep and very, very long.

Just when it seemed we had reached the bottom, the road ejected us from between two steep hillsides and across dizzying viaducts over gorges and valleys down below. In this way the car flew high over entire villages, looking like little models with the ochre roofs typical of the region.

I glanced down at church spires hundreds of feet below while Sue peeped through her fingers muttering ‘don’t tell me – I don’t want to know’.

Then we would start to climb again and the whole performance repeated with impossible viaducts over pretty villages, steep climbs and drops.

Then came the ‘piéce de résistance’ (which came as a bit of a shock to Sue!) – the famous Millau viaduct, a 2.5 km long viaduct joining 2 valley sides at a breathtaking height.

As we swept down from above and rounded a bend it came into view ahead and below us, looking impossibly beautiful and delicate hanging in mid-air on seemingly thin silver strands of wire like a spider’s web. A magic fairy-tale and an engineering masterpiece at the same time.

Fortunately, I would get to see it again on the return journey. Sue was impressed but not very happy but, some 20 viaducts later I hoped her fear of heights would be allayed a little (Note from Sue – ‘Nope!’).

The A75 ‘Méridienne’ is the nearest thing to flying in a car and, amazingly, the only AutoRoute mainly free of tolls (there is a fee for crossing at Millau), and my favourite as you have probably gathered by now!