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  • Day 8

    In Search of the Durance

    August 28, 2019 in France ⋅ ⛅ 24 °C

    Following our previous successes with early morning starts, we decided to once again head off at 7 am. This really is the very best time of the day for any sort of physical activity, and the cooler air at that time of the day is delightful.

    Our walk first took us to the cemetery that we had explored the previous day. The entire region of Provence is liberally dotted with Roman ruins, and Caumont Sur Durance is no exception. We had previously noted a couple of signs pointing to the “Jardin Romaine”, so this morning we thought they might be worthy of further exploration. As it turned out we were standing right in front of them. Even more surprising was the fact that, even at this time of the morning, the gates were unlocked.

    We then spent 30 minutes or so wandering the sprawling ruins of what was obviously an impressive garden in Roman times. The main feature was a huge tiled pool, extending maybe 60 metres or more in length. Even after 2000 years you could still see the amazing handiwork of the tilers who must have laid millions of tiny tiles over the full length of the pool. It was also possible to see traces of the original frescoes that must have covered the sides of the pool.

    There was one other major feature of the town that we had not yet seen – the Durance River. Although the name of the town translates to “Caumont on the Durance”, a more accurate name would have been “Caumont somewhere in the vicinity of the Durance”.
    We have seen no sight of the river anywhere near the town, but knew it must be somewhere around. Since water mostly travels downhill, we decided to follow a small stream to see where it led. I confidently told the group that it must lead us unerringly to the river and so, off we went.

    We found a lovely shaded Chemin (path) that followed the stream. Unfortunately the water in the stream looked quite putrid, inspiring me to suggest that maybe this was the town’s sewer. “Maybe all it will take us to is the town’s sewer treatment plant”, I added. At that time it was meant to be a joke.

    Along the way we were barked at furiously by large dogs which seemed to be a feature of every home. Fortunately the fences were high and the dogs could only snarl and growl at us through the wire. After walking for about 2 km, the path started to degenerate into a bit of a bush bash. A group of French council workers were busy cutting back some of the undergrowth that had blocked the way. We bade them a friendly “Bonjour” and continued fighting our way through the brambles, stinging nettles and briars. I began to feel like Burke and Wills, trying to reach the Gulf of Carpentaria. One prominent facility that we did succeed in reaching was the local sewer works. My earlier prediction had proven uncannily accurate.

    The path finally led us under a large bridge and into a dangerous pile of large rocks. This was getting quite ridiculous and there was still no sign of the Durance. Risking life and limb, some of us clambered over the rocks, but the others had already had enough and turned back to the town. The reduced group did eventually catch a glimpse of the mighty Durance, but it was on the other side of a very busy highway and there was no easy way to get across. Besides it was time for coffee ! We headed back to the town. Sometimes the explorer’s lot is not an easy one.

    Soon after 9 am we were all gathered outside our new favourite coffee shop, eating chocolate croissants and drinking coffee. Thanks to the magic of modern technology and the wizardry of What’s App, we invited David to join us at the table. Of course he was still thousands of miles away in Melbourne, nursing the ailing cat and its ever growing list of severe injuries (all of these cruelly inflicted by a person or persons called David). We propped the phone in the middle of the table and showed David how much we were enjoying ourselves. I suggested that he should take the cat on a nice holiday, just to apologise for what he had done to it. My friendly suggestion was met with muted silence.

    By the time we returned to the house, according to the GPS we had walked around 7 km. It was time for a rest. The remainder of the day was spent in much less active pastimes – mostly talking, doing crosswords, playing “Who Am I ?”, eating – and an afternoon siesta. It’s a tough life.

    In the cool of the evening we walked to Gael and Gerry’s penthouse and had a wonderful dinner out on their terrace. It was a magical experience to be able to enjoy a meal surrounded by the rolling hillsides of Provence. As the daylight faded, the scene progressively became dominated by the gentle sepia coloured streetlights of the township. It was picture postcard perfect and none of us will ever forget the evening we dined al fresco in Caumont.
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