I stood on the stony beach of the Riviera in the hot morning sun, watching the seagulls bobbing on the waves where the waters of the Var River flow gently out of its wide mouth to mingle with the salty Mediterranean Sea. All was quiet. It was too early in the day for the holiday beach-goers to be up. Suddenly, the seagulls lifted into the air as one, screeching loudly in protest as a large plane flew just over their heads and touched down on the Nice airport runway on the opposite bank of the river of the river.

I hadn’t come to watch the planes but to contemplate the river at its endpoint. The Var River had intrigued me since I moved to the Cote d’Azur many years ago, as I often crossed it when driving from my home in the hills behind the coast on my way to Nice or to Italy to visit my parents-in-law. From where in the Alps did it flow? Why is it called the Var when it does not flow through the region by the same name? On this hot summer day, tempted by the cooler climate of the mountains behind the city, I set out to follow it upstream in search of answers and adventure.

“This great madman, fit for nothing and incapable of being brought to its senses.” That was how Marquis Sébastien Le Prestre de Vauban, one of the most celebrated civil engineers in the history of France, described the 125-kilometer (78-mile) run of the Var River back in the 17th century. Its course has been partially tamed by dams and dikes over the centuries, but the Var still has a tumultuous history of disastrous flooding. In 1996 this deceptively calm river rose so quickly that the resulting floodwaters killed seven people and caused catastrophic damage to property and land along its length.

Nice and surroundings have been fully part of France since 1860. Previously, the area had various masters (Provence, Savoy, Sardinia, briefly France). At times, the Var River served as a natural border between ruling parties. A possession of the Kingdom of Sardinia in the mid-19th century, Nice and surroundings, were transferred to France, then under Napoleon III, in exchange for France’s military aid in keeping Austrian forces out of the Italian states. The Savoy region further north along the Alps was also embraced by France (and vice versa) at the time. Before the exchange, the Var territory stretched further to the east than it does now, bordering the river that gave it its name. The border of the department of Var is now drawn further west, leaving the Var River to run mostly through the department of Alpes-Maritimes, with a twist through Alpes-de-Haute-Provence, as it reaches Entrevaux.

Entrevaux

Leaving the stony beach and harried seagulls behind, I followed the road that mirrors the flow of the river, towards the Alps, now the formidable border between France and Italy. At the beginning of the drive, the river and road cuts through the middle of a wide plain corralled by steep hills on either side. Occasionally, the road passes through sleepy, candy-colored villages shaded by plane trees. Just over an hour’s drive from Nice, the medieval village of Entrevaux looms into view.

Entrevaux clings to the side of a steep rocky outcrop, protected on three sides by the swirling river. The only feasible entry to the pedestrian village is via an ancient stone bridge arching high above the turbulent waters, and through a menacing portcullis that was built to keep invading hordes out of the village streets and protect the castle perched high on the promontory above. The walk up to the castle starts from the cliff side of the town by way of a cobbled path of unshaded switchbacks. I trudged upwards in the summer heat, wishing fervently that I had brought a bottle of water. The exploration of the half-ruined castle and the spectacular views up and down the Var Valley made the hike to the top very much worth it.

The Daluis Gorge

After a rejuvenating ice cream and now armed with a large bottle of water, I returned to the car to continue the drive alongside the river. Just a five-minute drive further up the valley from Entrevaux lies the hidden entrance to the Daluis Valley. A road sign points into a tunnel chipped out of a rock wall, where the river makes a sudden right-hand turn through a narrow cut in the seemingly impenetrable cliff. As I emerged from the unlit tunnel, the valley opened out before me like a verdant Land of the Lost, with the sparkling river bordered on either side by empty green fields and steep tree-covered hills. The road then winds up into the mountains following the river and passing through the stunning, narrow Daluis Gorge. On entering the gorge, the rocks and even the road itself become a dark red color in this area formed 250-million years ago from iron-rich volcanic ash.

I stopped at the Berthéou Bridge and set out to search for a viewpoint where I could eat my picnic lunch. After a short hike over purple and red rocks, I came to the aptly named Point Subline outlook. The cliff here juts out into the gorge to give a stunning view of the entire valley from the mountain peaks at one end to the grassy plains at the other. I cautiously approached the guard-rail and peered over it to the churning river hemmed in by steep dark walls far below. After backing gingerly away from the vertiginous drop, I settled myself on a large rock and ate my sandwich while studying the vertical wall across the valley, trying to spot all the dark mouths of the mine entrances vertiginously cut into the rock walls hundreds of meters above the valley floor. From prehistoric times to the early 20th century, people risked their lives digging for copper and other sought-after minerals here, using ladders and ropes to scale the cliffs to mines that are no longer accessible.

Discovering The Source

As I travelled further up the valley and into steeper mountain terrain, the Var River became smaller, constrained by its surroundings to create waterfalls that led it on its downward path toward the sea.

In the late afternoon, I finally arrived at Estenc, a tiny village nestled at the end of the valley just below the 2,326-meter (7631-foot) high Cayolle Pass. Enjoying the cool mountain air, I walked along a signposted trail to a pretty lake, then with mounting excitement to the source of the Var just beyond the lake. I pushed through some bushes and came face to face with a very small, muddy pool leaking brackish water.

The sight was underwhelming yet it was accompanied by the great pleasure of knowing that that this humble beginning is the start of a powerful river that has had such a huge impact for centuries on the people and landscape along its length.

I stared at the mud puddle for a few minutes, then walked back to the quaint 2-star Relais de la Cayolle, the only hotel in Estenc. There, I enjoyed a hearty dinner of coq au vin and zucchini gratin, before settling in for the night. I was lulled to sleep by a silence broken only by the occasional owl hooting and the splashing of the Var River as it begins its journey through the valley and down to the coast.

If you go

Relais de la Cayolle, Route des Grandes Alpes, Hameau d’Estenc, 06470 Etraunes. The hotel has no website. To reserve a room and/or book a table at the restaurant call +33 (0)4 93 05 51 33.

For those without a car, it is possible to enjoy the rugged and spectacular views on a day trip into the Riviera’s back-country from Nice to Entrevaux on the Train des Pignes. See the official website of the Pignes tourist train for information for schedules and prices.

Text and photos © 2022, Lisa Watson.

The post The Riviera Backcountry: In Search of the Source of the Var River appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

By Ester Laushway

Life in the south of France can be a beach, and a crowded beach at that. So when looking for a higher water-to-people ratio than is usually available along the Mediterranean I head from my home in Aix-en-Provence for the heart of Provence.

There, the hills and mountains are linked by a liquid lacework of clear streams and limpid lakes which offer a secluded, refreshing alternative to the sea. Deep green, tranquil blue, or transparent as glass, the cool, fresh waters of the Sorgue, the Durance and the Verdon gush, splash, cascade and flow through the landscape or sit still and welcoming, a peaceful mirror to the blue sky.

The Sorgue

Fontaine de Vaucluse: If I were to design an aquatic tour of Provence I would begin 20 miles east of Avignon at Fontaine de Vaucluse. Tucked away in the hills at the end of Vallis Clausa, the closed valley, this hamlet is both the source of the name of the department of the Vaucluse and, more spectacularly, the source of the Sorgue River. The spring that’s the source of the Sorgue has been a tourist attraction since at least the 14th century, when the poet Petrarch settled in this remote, wildly beautiful location, to dedicate himself to his writings.

Gushing out of the foot of a 755-foot-high cliff and tumbling over the rocks, the spring is one of the fastest flowing in the world – at least from late autumn through spring. When my mood calls for a spectacular, rushing torrent I might come here during those rainy seasons. In summer the fountain subsides back into its rocky bed, leaving an eerily still, bottomless pool. The summer months are ideal for admiring the village’s gorgeous setting, encircled by high, erosion-sculpted cliffs, shaded by immense plane trees and cooled by the crystalline waters of the Sorgue as it flows through an emerald-green bed of water plants.

From the village’s town hall it’s just a few steps to the main square, Place de la Colonne. A little bridge leads across the Sorgue, to the Petrarch Library-Museum, which stands near the spot where the poet lived from 1337 to 1353.

Cross back over the river and walk with it on your right to the Vallis Clausa Paper Mill. Powered by the Sorgue, which kept over two hundred mills of all types running in the 19th century, Villas Clausa still makes paper out using 15-century techniques. Visitors are taken through the process, step by step, from an overhead walkway. The lovely hand-made paper, with flower petals pressed into it, is sold, with or without printed poems, in the mill’s gift shop.

Next to the paper mill is the fascinating Ecomusée du Gouffre, Museum of the Underground World. Here, trained speleologists take visitors on an intriguing visit into the bowels of the earth, through a life-size reconstruction of an underground cavern, including cave paintings, a river, a small lake, and a speleologist’s camp.

Most intriguing for me is the history of the explorations of the funnel-shaped chasm out of which the Sorgue springs. In 1878, the first diver made it down to a depth of 75 feet. In 1983, a German diver completed a record dive to a depth of 672 feet. To begin to imagine what an achievement that was, it helps to know that it took him only 30 minutes to plunge down, but 8 ½ hours, in the pitch dark, in 10° C water, to make his way back up to the surface!

Unmanned explorations have penetrated as far down as 1010 feet – as deep as the Eiffel Tower is high – and have discovered other galleries and caverns that run down further still to unfathomable depths.

It’s a short, uphill stroll from there to the source of the Sorgue. By the time you reach the actual fountain, you can admire it all the more for knowing what a unique natural wonder it is.

L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue: Once it has burst out of the rocks, the Sorgue, content to have made a dramatic entrance, flows swiftly but serenely eastwards, towards L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue. Originally inhabited by fishermen, who lived in houses built on stilts, the village is now home to the largest concentration of antiques dealers in southern France, 350 of them.

L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue is located just beyond a divide in the river, and one of the most pleasant ways to spend two hours on a hot summer’s day, is to rent a canoe and paddle from Fontaine-de-Vaucluse to that divide. Even the most inexpert and youngest paddlers can navigate the cool, calm, shaded river here while admiring the water weeds on the bottom that give the Sorgue its emerald hue.

Two companies offer guided canoe trips, bringing you back by minibus to the point of departure: Canoë Evasion, south of Fontaine-de-Vaucluse and Kayak Vert, right in Fontaine-de-Vaucluse.

The Durance

Between the Sorgue and the Verdon Gorges flows the once-mighty Durance. A formerly wild, tempestuous river that regularly flooded its banks, its sculpted effigy on the fronton of the former Grain Exchange in Aix-en-Provence is a bare-breasted temptress, with one foot dangling over the edge to show her unbridled nature. But the Durance’s days of behaving badly are long past now that several dams, hydroelectric plants, and a system of canals have reduced large parts of it to a lazy stream crawling sleepily among sandbanks and reeds, particularly in the dry summer season.

Driving east, or upstream, alongside the Durance offers unspoiled views of its broad bed and delicious places to swim. Among the latter, 12 miles northeast of Aix-en-Provence, is a former quarry outside the village of Peyrolles-en-Provence that has been transformed into an artificial lake, with grassy banks and a lifeguard on duty.

The Verdon

Twelve miles further on, the Durance River is quietly joined by the Verdon, which has exhausted itself from the Herculean task of carving out the Verdon Gorges, Europe’s deepest river canyon.

Further east the Verdon widens into the Lac d’Esparron, a tranquil water reservoir and nature reserve, where you can rent flat-bottomed electric boats that avoid noise and petrol pollution. The boats are child’s play to handle, letting you glide peacefully over the still waters, stopping to picnic or swim wherever you like.

Lac Sainte Croix, another 30 miles east, is a vast expanse of turquoise water created in 1975 by flooding of about 2200 acres as part of project to build a dam. Little beaches line its edge, where you can swim and rent pedal boats or canoes, and shady picnic grounds line. In summer, whole flotillas of brightly colored boats head to the northern part of the lake, by the village of Aiguines, where the emerald-coloured Verdon River emerges from its rocky canyon.

By pedal boat (excellent for abdominal muscles) you can enter the canyon. After about 30 minutes of pedaling, you’ll hear the rush of a waterfall and can stop to cool down with a swim.

The Verdon Gorges are a truly awesome sight: a 12-mile long chasm lined by vertical cliffs, sometimes 2300 feet (700 meters) deep and in its narrowest part only 20-feet wide. Just how the Verdon succeeded in etching its way so deeply through the hard limestone of the region remains a geological mystery. But however mysteriously it was created, the result is one of the showpieces of Provence, a spectacular end to this aquatic tour.

© 2010, Ester Laushway

Ester Laushway has lived in Provence for the past 15 years. She holds a degree in oenology, works as a restaurant critic for the Gantié Guide, and organizes food and wine tours.

The post Cool Runnings: An Aquatic Tour of Provence appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.